LATCH (5 page)

Waking up, the sun is shining through the gigantic windows on the east side of my apartment and it’s hitting me right in the face. It feels good – warm like a pussy. Clearing my mind of all the stresses I can’t control, I sit up and check my phone. There is still no word from Abby and it’s driving me crazy. Normally, the first thing I do when I wake up is text her, but now I can’t, and breaking the habit it hard. I’ve gotta let her go, and I’ve got to find a way to clear my mind, longer than just fucking someone, which isn’t even helping anymore. Heading to the kitchen to make myself a smoothie, I decide a run and workout might do just that, especially since it’s been over a week since I’ve worked out and that’s not like me.

Making a smoothie, I drink it quickly and then change into some workout clothes. Stretching a little before I hit the pavement, I turn on some music that’ll clear my mind and pop my ear buds in before leaving to head across town. As I jog out of my neighborhood, the morning traffic is at a standstill. I look around staring at all the people trying to get to work and feel thankful I don’t have to live a life like them. That could be me, stuck in a fucking car, wearing a goddamn suit, working a nightmare nine to five job. As much as I didn’t get along with my dad, he always told me to develop a skill that allowed me to be my
own
boss. I might not agree with his lifestyle, but it’s who he is and over the years he did teach me some shit, not as much as my mom…but some.

I can still picture her face today. She was simple, happy being a good old lady and doing anything for my dad and I. But, six years ago, that all ended. My life changed the day we got the news. I’ll never forget the look in my dad’s eye when he told me that my mom was dead. I was devastated. Losing her was the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through, and thinking of it now still brings tears to my eyes. Especially how it happened; another club killed her for some shit my dad did. He tried to avenge her death, but no matter how much killing he does, it’ll never bring her back. Since then I haven’t been able to let go of the blame I put on him for letting her get in the middle of shit. It’s tarnished our relationship, but let’s face it, my dad being the kind of man that he is, we were never destined for great things.

Shaking my head to clear it of that dark place, my phone vibrates, changing my mind’s thoughts, and I stop running, looking to see a text from Scott, a regular client of mine,
Can you meet Tracy and I tonight at 10:00, normal spot?

Scott and Tracy are a blast, plus my highest paying clients, so when they call…I jump.
Absolutely,
I text him back.

Great, see you then.

I also like working with them because I don’t need to bring any toys as they have an awesome playroom at their house. First, we meet for drinks to unwind and then go back to their place where I work Tracy until she’s toast. Sometimes Scott joins in and other times he just watches us.

Walking inside of the gym, I scan my pass and get right to it, taking out all of my pent up aggression on as much weight as I can handle. As I work out, I do everything I can to keep to myself and keep my mind blank of Abby. The music flows through my ear buds and I am in my zone. Right now, I need this relief. I need to be as far away as possible from the reality that is tormenting me.

After over an hour in the gym, exhaustion and the irritating mindfuck consume me. I can’t push Abby away. As much as I try, she’s always there, fresh in my mind. The song changes and I can picture Abby dancing to it, the vision of her rings in my head and I can’t block it out.

Sitting back on the leg press machine, I rub my temples in an attempt to keep control over my mind. And when I open my eyes, I notice two girls whispering to one another. I see them here often and they always have their eyes on me, distracting me from getting in my zone when I spot them. One of them walks across the gym, her eyes all over me as she struts her barely covered body to the private changing rooms. She gestures me to her and automatically I get up, walking over. Maybe she can be a mind eraser. She walks in and leaves the door cracked.

I open it and look around the gym, catching her friend watching me with a shocked expression on her face.

I wink at her before proceeding inside. Once we are both in, I lock the door and look at her as she is leaning against the sink. Her hand is on her pussy as she works it through her shorts. I pull my t-shirt above my head, and she pants, staring at my body.
Fuckin’ tattoos
. I know what she wants, and right now, I need it too. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” I ask her as I remove a condom from my wallet.

“Jannie,” she swallows, and I grab the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head.

“You want me to fuck you, Jannie?” She stands with her tits out and I lean into her neck kissing softly, nipping on her sensitive skin as I tease her nipple with my free hand.

She moans a little and leans her head back, resting her hands on my sides. My cock is getting hard and I can tell that she is ready for it as she reaches down and grips me through my shorts.

I grind myself against her hand, sucking on her skin as my hand trails down her body and into her shorts. “Are you wet for me?”

“Mmmhh,” she whimpers, and I begin to finger her. She throws an arm over my shoulder and hangs on as I please her in a way that I am sure no other man ever has with just his hand.

Jannie reaches in and clenches my cock, jerking and stroking it, clearing my mind. “See how hard I am for you?” I ask her and slide my shorts down. She looks at my cock, still in her hold. “Take your shorts off,” I tell her, and she removes them.

Fire blazes in her eyes as I keep playing with her and finally she requests, “Fuck me and make me come from your cock.”

I smile, wanting nothing more right now and take the condom, rolling it down my length. “Give me your leg,” I order her and hoist her up on the sink. With her leg in my right hand, I spread open her pink pussy with my left and nudge my way inside of her, to find the clarity I’ve been searching for all day. Fuck, she’s wet – sloppy wet.

She looks at my lips as I sink all the way in and kisses me. I kiss her back, our tongues a twisted mess as I please her the way I know how to. I lose myself in what comes so naturally for me. My cock matches the movements of her kisses, which is what girls like, and I pinch her nipple, working her so that I can make her come quickly.

The room is quickly filled with the noises of our skin slapping together. She pulls away and chants, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Looking me in the eye, with her fingernails digging into my back, causing me to just go harder. My body burns; the tip of my dick is almost numb from fucking her so roughly. And yet my release evades me. Again. As Abby penetrates the corners of my mind any time I let my guard down.

I can’t run from her, as much as I try, she is always there, calling me to her, yet…I can’t have her. Pounding Jannie’s pussy even harder, I focus on making her feel good and out of nowhere, she shudders, screaming as she comes, so loud that I have to cover her mouth with my hand. Slamming her cunt as she works through her orgasm, she hangs on to me limply. She is annihilated. I let go of her leg and it falls to the floor. Pulling off the condom, I toss it in the trash, knowing that it would take me a lot longer to find my release, as Abby won’t leave my mind.

“Let me make you come.” She gets to her knees and I look down at her perky pink lips.

“Next time.”

She looks up at me a little shocked, but smiles as I help her stand. I feel bad for her, but she’s the one who called me in here. I gave her what she wanted. It’s not her fault that I’m all fucked up right now.

Heading back to my place, I decide to take a cab; my fucking workout burnt me out. On the drive, my phone vibrates and I see a voicemail from my Grandma.

Fuck!

I was supposed to meet her for brunch today at ten and missed it. We meet once a week, but with everything consuming me, I forgot all about it. I don’t bother listening to the message, instead I call her.

“Everything okay?” she answers on the first ring in her usual chipper tone.

“Yeah, I mean…” I trail off, not able to lie to her; she’s the only person in this world I tell everything to, “No.”

“I didn’t eat yet; come on over.”

“’Kay, I’m on my way,” I tell her. Then tell the cab driver, “To Kingston and Crown Street, please.” My grandma lives just five minutes from me. She is what brought me to New York after my mom passed; she helped me get on my feet when I left my dad’s. And she understands the issues that I have with him. She’s never accepted his lifestyle, and I know he’s broken her heart again and again with the choices he’s made.

Walking up the front stairs to her old Victorian house, I enter the unlocked door and she says, “I’m here in the kitchen, Latch.” She has a smile on her face when she sees me and hugs me even though I’m all sweaty.

“Sorry, I just came from the gym.”

“I don’t mind. I hope you’re hungry.”

“You know I am.”

“Good, I made your favorite.”

We walk out back to her lavish balcony where all of the food is spread across her outdoor table. She always makes a feast and I feel terrible that I almost missed it. Right now, talking with her about everything is exactly what I need.

“Dig in,” she says, handing me my favorite blueberry pancakes.

Looking at all of the food, I pile it high on my plate and she asks me before I can take my first bite, “So what’s bothering you?”

“You know that girl, Abby, I told you about?”

I tell my grandmother everything and she is as sharp as a tack, so she remembers it all. “Of course. The client who you work with most?”

I nod.
Yes, my grandmother knows what I do for a living.

“We had to stop seeing each other.”

“Why?”

“Her husband caught us.”

She sets her cup down hard against the table.
Well, maybe not everything.

“She’s married?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“Uh huh.”

“Why are you working with her?” she asks, agitated, knowing I normally only work with single women and married couples, that being a home-wrecker is not my scene at all.

“When I met her, she sparked something inside of me. Something that made me forget about all of my rules. For months all I could think about was her, and as time progressed, it was the only way that I could see things working for us. I was willing to accept whatever I could get.”

She blinks a few times, trying to process what I am telling her. “Latch, why would you think that?”

Her question takes me back to the day that Abby and I met. I can remember how my heart fluttered when I looked into her eyes for the first time. “There is something very real between us and always has been.”

“Then why would you have made her a client? Have you always thought that all of the women you sleep with need to be your clients?”

“I guess so.”

“Why?”

“Because no woman in her right mind would understand why I do what I do for a living, so I might as well work with them in order to have the ones that I want and enjoy them for as long as I can.”

“But if you found the one, don’t you think you should give her the chance to understand you?”

“You know in the past I’ve tried dating and it doesn’t work. They never understand my work and I can’t open myself up. I’m unemotional, detached.”

“Why do you think that happens?”

“Because I don’t want to end up like Dad.”

“But if you don’t open yourself up to anyone then you’ll be just like him…angry and alone.”

“At least, I’ll never have to face heartache.”

“Latch, you already are by losing this girl, I can see it. Have you ever really thought what
your
future looks like? Don’t you see yourself getting married and having children?” I spit out the sip of coffee that I’d just taken into my mouth. “I’m serious, Latch.”

“So am I. No, Dad fucked me up enough. I don’t need to go and do the same thing to some poor innocent child and woman.”

“Stop, you’re nothing like him.”

I nod, knowing that she hates it when I compare myself to him. But as much as she hates it, I am still cut from the same cloth, heartless and emotionless just like he is. I can run from him all I want, but he made me into the man I am today. Scarring me by letting my mother die; he’s as responsible as the fucker who pulled the trigger and killed her.