Hooked (8 page)

He rests his forehead against mine and sighs, "Let's get the fuck outta here."

"Fuck, I need to get stoned after some shit like that..." His voice is shaky as I follow him into the house once we return after that fucked up run-in with Tony.

He immediately slinks into the back room to retrieve a blunt he rolled for the night before to smoke with the boys. As he sits down in his recliner with a deep sigh I lean down over him.

"C'mere, let me see your neck..." I touch his jaw gently, trying to turn his face, but he jerks it away in aggravation.

"No! Stop. I'm fine," he grunts, tucking his head to hide his wound from me. The last thing he wants to feel like after a stand-off in and alley with his gun pushed to some guy's chest is a little pussy who needs a band-aid.

"Lex, just let me see it." I straddle his lap, craning my neck to peek under his jaw and get a glimpse of his singed flesh, my face screwing up at the sight of it.

"It's just a fucking burn, ok? Get off me! Damn!" he groans and pushes back against me, but I grab his face gently in my hands.

"Stop trying to be a fucking hardass...it looks bad, Lex." I struggle with him. Damn, he's so stubborn. "Stop!" I bark loudly and he sighs in defeat, relaxing under my touch. "Here...just let me look..." I tilt his head back gently, turning it to the side and he groans deep in his chest, twisting up his face in pain as his blistered skin stretches across the scald. "Does it hurt?"

He swallows hard, sighing, "Yeah."

He winces as I run a finger over the skin, burned smooth from the hot metal of the gun and a shiver runs down my body as I flashback to just an hour ago. I shake the scene from my head as I gently kiss his neck, over his jaw and up his cheek. He sighs and smiles a little as I nuzzle his nose but he groans impatiently.

"I need to get high, Leala...we can play doctor later, ok?"

He pushes back on me gently, lifting himself from the chair and crossing the room to sit on the couch. I collapse into his chair with a sigh, still not sure that my mind has completely wrapped around the events of this afternoon. He fires up the blunt, and the sweet smell pours slowly through the living room as he smokes, passing it to me occasionally.

We smoke the whole thing in silence. Well, he smokes most of it, and I'm waiting for him to just pass out on the couch at any moment having smoked himself to sleep, but he just sits there, head back, eyes half-open staring at the ceiling, mouth agape.

"What would you have done if I had...you know...gotten whacked today?" he finally speaks.

"What?"

"You know...like, if shit got rough with me and Tony." He peers at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"You mean, if you got shot?" I ask uneasily, not really sure why he's venturing into this hypothetical situation.

He grins lazily. "Yeah...like, if he killed my ass." He giggles a little, but I tense up inside. Shit like that just isn't funny to me, I don't know why he doesn't get that.

"Don't say some fucked up shit like that," I mutter, but he keeps giggling, higher than a kite.

His chuckles slow to a stop. "No really, like...what would you have done?" He lifts his head a little to look at me curiously.

"I woulda...fucking flipped probably," I confess slowly with my eyes focused down, shifting uncomfortably. "Like...I don't even know."

His face softens when I finally meet his eyes with mine, and I hope he can see the worry there, the fear, the absolute relief that he's still here in front of me, alive.

"That's why I had to go with you," I continue, "I don't know what I woulda done if you didn't come back."

He's silent for a moment. "C'mere..." he beckons me softly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. I hesitate to get up from my chair, smirking a bit, and he laughs, "C'mere, girl..."

I cross the room to sink down into the couch next to him, and he throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I curl my legs up onto the couch, head on his shoulder, and I sigh deep and relieved, resting against him for a moment.

He takes his free hand across his body, hooking it under my knee to pull me across his lap until I'm straddling his legs and he drinks in my body through half-open eyes, his lids heavy from chiefing. He grins at me lazily and I can't fight down my giggles. Pot makes him so lazy. It's a nice change of pace from the coke, which makes him like a fucking rabbit.

He slides down on the couch until his ass is barely on the cushions and I have to scoot up on his lap to keep from falling through his widely-spread knees. He moans a little when I sit up on him, my lap directly over his dick, thick in his sweats but not hard, because, well...weed doesn't do that to him. He smokes to relax, and trust me we've been there and done that enough times...he stays relaxed.

I push the hood back off of his head and kiss his forehead right at his hairline, my fingers scratching gently at his scalp, and another moan escapes from deep in his chest. His tongue snakes out spreading wide and warm across my neck, licking and sucking at my throat, the sensations heightened by the THC in my blood.

Fuck, how does every single touch feel better when we're on drugs?

I push my hands up under his hoodie and he lifts his arms as I take the thick fabric over his head gently, giggling a little when his white t-shirt comes halfway up his body and gets stuck under his arms. I toss the sweatshirt to the floor and he smoothes down his shirt, a small strip of skin still peeking out because his sweats are so low on his hips.

My fingers play on the sensitive skin right above the waistband of gray cotton and I bite my lip as the muscles in his abdomen contract, quivering a bit. I can feel his cock beginning to stiffen underneath me, but I know that because he's so toasted getting him up is going to be a slow process, if it even happens.

He smoothes his hands up my thighs and bites at his bottom lip, tipping his head back against the couch. "You wanna?" And I know exactly what he's asking for.

"Lex, you never wanna fuck when you're stoned..." I say it knowing that it's not that he never wants to...he just usually can't.

He grips my hips with his large hands, his long fingers almost reaching the middle of my back, "I just wanna make you feel good." And he's giving me that lazy grin again. He blinks his glassy eyes slowly, his lids heavy and red at the lashline from the drugs, and I flood between my thighs as his tongue runs along the inside of his mouth.

He leans forward on the couch, holding my lower back as he leans over me, pressing his chest to mine and I wrap my arms around his torso, clutching him under his shoulder blades. His tongue runs out along my neck again and I dip my head to kiss his mouth, slow and lazy and with lots of tongue.

God, that tongue...

I grind my hips down onto his lap slowly but I know better than to start this shit with him because one of us, or both of us, are going to end up very unsatisfied. It always happens that way when he gets blazed. But he's insistent today, "C'mon." And before I can object he's pushing me onto my feet and dragging me into his bedroom.

He slips out of his sneakers and flops down onto the bed, rolling over flat onto his back and stretching his arms overhead, legs spread just slightly. I grin at him as I slide off my shoes and socks, crawling up slowly over the foot of the bed, stopping to tug his socks off of his feet before running my hands up from his shins to his thighs.

He moans a little and shifts his hips and I see his dick pressing up against his sweats, but not in a way that's suggesting he's gonna get me off anytime soon.

I pull myself up onto his thighs and smile down at him as I run my hands up his torso, bunching his t-shirt up at his chest, leaning down to kiss that delicate skin between his bellybutton and the top of his sweats. With my lips still on his skin, I peer up into his eyes, grinning a bit and sneaking my tongue out as he watches me under heavy eyelids. I feel his hips twitch again and his dick is pressing harder against my leg, but I know it's still not enough. This could take all fucking afternoon.

I slide up onto his body, stretching forward to lay my chest flat against his and he rolls me over onto my back. I fumble with the button and zipper of my jeans and he tugs them down my hips anxiously, chuckling a little as I kick them off my feet onto the floor.

He bends my knees up and presses them open, sinking his weight down against me, and I rock against his hips a little, creating some friction that will hopefully get him going. He reaches around over his head to pull off his shirt and I smooth my hands up his torso from his hips to his chest, fingers splaying across the tattoos printed onto his skin. His lips cover mine as he tugs at my shirt and I lift my arms, breaking the kiss to allow him to draw the fabric off over my head.

We're both panting now, and I feel him half-hard between my legs, pressing against my center, my panties soaked with desire for him, but I hope it doesn't go to waste.

"Can you get it up for me, baby?" I finally breathe the words against his lips as he unsnaps my bra and I slip my arms out, tossing it to the floor. He nods and presses harder into me; maybe mimicking the motions of fucking will get him in the right mind frame.

I reach into his sweats impatiently and he's naked underneath and God, he knows I love that shit. It's like a fucking surprise. He's thick and heavy in my hand, and I feel him stiffen a little when I pump him slowly up and down, and he's almost there...fuck, just a little more and it'll be good enough so we can get on with this.

I pull my hand out and tug his sweats down over his hips and ass, and he wiggles out of them while I pull my panties off. He settles back down against me and I feel him reach down between our bodies, propping himself on one elbow so he can roll on his side a little. I watch him wrap those long slender fingers around his dick, working it slow, trying to get it all the way up.

I kiss and lick at his neck, being careful around the tender skin of his fresh wound, moaning into his ear a bit to encourage him, hoping silently that he gets it up because holy fuck do I want it inside of me now more than ever.

He grits his teeth, panting a little, his strokes quicker. "Shit...c'mon", and I'm breathing in his ear, running my fingertips up and down over the bumps and grooves of his lean torso.

"C'mon Lex, get it up for me." I reach down to stroke his inner thigh slowly, running my tongue along the outside of his ear, and he's grunting, frustrated.

"Fuck, just...just give me a minute, ok?"

And he's working his shit out, but I finally stop him.

"Just put it in me baby, c'mon."

And I roll onto my back, pulling my knees up and open and he guides the head to my slit, soaked and throbbing from watching him stroke himself, wishing his hand were my pussy. He thrusts into me swiftly, but it's just not the same as it usually is, but I'm so horny I could give a fuck less.

I grip his shoulders as he starts a quick rhythm, but even though he's still thick and solid, he's not as hard as he usually is, and the friction isn't getting me off. I sigh, frustrated, and grip his shoulders tighter.

"C'mon Lex, fuck me like you want it," I whisper, hoping that him picking up his pace might solve my pleasure problem, but I can tell he's just not into it.

Fuck. I knew this was gonna happen.

"Lex...Lex, stop." I push on his shoulders and he slows his hips to a stop. "If you can't...we don't have to..."

And he sighs, hanging his head.

"Damn, baby. How the fuck do you think this makes me feel right now? I just...I can't get there, you know how it is when I smoke. Shit." He pulls out of me and lays beside me, turning me onto my side to face him. "I wanna watch you cum so bad...I wanna make you say my name. Tell me what you want." And he's pressing into me again, still half-hard against my thigh, his hand creeping between my legs.

Well, I wanted you to fuck me...

Of course I wouldn't say that shit right now. I know that'll start a fight quicker than I can get the words out.

I sigh softly when I feel the pad of his thumb brush against my clit, and I instinctively draw my leg across his hip, opening myself up to him more, pressing my forehead against his.

"You want that?" he breathes against my lips as he rolls his thumb across my clit, pressing harder, sliding his index finger back against my slit. "You want these fingers in your pussy?"

And I nod slightly, mouth agape, and he presses into me with a second finger.

"I want you to cum for me," he whispers. "I want you dripping on my sheets."

He probes me with his fingers and I close my eyes as pleasure waves wash over me, and God, his mouth is so dirty. I love when he talks dirty to me with that mouth...I just wanna fuck it.

I reach down and seize his wrist with my hand, fingers digging in slightly, and I lower my eyes at him. He grins slowly, "That's not what you want now? You change your mind?"

But I can't speak. God, I just want that mouth...

His fingers pull out of me and he wraps his arms around me, bringing his face so close to mine, his lips barely touch mine as he whispers, "Well what do you want then? You want this mouth on that pussy? You want me to lick that little snatch?"

He licks his lips after he says it and that simple action paired with those words almost sends me into an orgasm right there. He brings his open mouth to mine, pushing his tongue past my teeth slowly, lapping at the inside of my mouth with his tongue, sucking on my lips as he pulls away.

Yes, that's exactly what I want...

I nod slowly, and he smirks, blinking, eyes still bloodshot, eyelids still heavy with intoxication.

"Well you better come sit on my face then."

I hold my breath when he says it. He rolls onto his back, taking me over with him.

"You better come sit on my face so I can eat that pussy up just like you want me to."

I bite my lip and my stomach quivers a little as I sit up on him, pushing against his chest for leverage. He tucks his hands behind my knees and pulls me up while he wiggles his body down the bed underneath me.

His facial hair tickles my skin slightly as he kisses my inner thighs and he hooks his arms around behind my legs, gripping my hips with his strong hands. I lean my weight forward above his head against the mattress onto straight arms, and he slowly pulls me down, pressing my aching center to his mouth, coating his lips with my fluids.