Your Neighborhood Convict Page 3

  “Want to get out of here?” she asks.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I UNLOCK the deadbolt of the front door, push it open while stepping aside to allow Maggie space to walk in first. She drops her bag on the couch as I turn on the lights and then she removes her jacket while turning around to face me.

  “I don’t know what it is that is drawing me so strongly to you, but I’m not wanting to fight it. I want you,” she says seductively.

  “Yeah?” I tilt my head in question as I toe off my shoes beside the door.

  “How long has it been since you’ve been with a woman?” she asks, slowly closing the distance between us. Her hands wrap around my neck and she leans up to place a chaste kiss against my lips.

  “Um, it’s been a bit. A little over six years.” My voice sounds like gravel.

  She hums in contentment and then leans up again as my hands circle her waist.

  I pull her flush against my body as we kiss. A first kiss that makes lights erupt behind my closed lids.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” she asks against my lips.

  I don’t break away from her, instead I turn her and walk her backward down the short hallway into the bedroom. The back of her legs hit the bed, and I gently lay her down while hovering over her.

  “Are you sure about this?” I ask her, hoping that she will ignore the question.

  Her fingers run through the back of my hair, and she pulls my face closer to her. Our lips meet again, and our tongues tangle. With one hand beside her head on the bed holding me up from fully crushing her, my other hand wanders over her curves. My palm rests on her breast, squeezing gently and moving the fabric of her tank top aside to get closer to her skin. The demi cup bra she wears barely covers her nipple as I pull it down, and with the tips of my fingers, I tug lightly on her pert nipple. My lips move away from hers and down the column of her neck, to her shoulder, to the roundness of her breast, until I have her nipple in my mouth. I suck lightly, and Maggie bows her back from the bed with a loud moan. She holds my head to her breast as I lavish her. I move down her body, so I’m not at an awkward angle. She opens her legs to allow my body space, and I’m wanting to divert straight for her pussy. She’s wearing a skirt and I know that there’s not much between us, aside from a thin panel of material. I can smell her arousal, and my mouth waters.

  My hand skates down her torso to her thigh, and just as my fingers touch her bare skin on the inside of her thigh, my cock is as hard as a rock, and I know that there is no turning back.

  “Wyatt, I need to feel your fingers inside of me,” she moans as if reading my thoughts.

  “Maggie.” is all I manage to say as I slide down, and my knees hit the floor. I move under her skirt to lift it as I want a view of what I’m doing. Both of my hands spread her legs wider, and I can see the wet spot on her panties from her excitement.

  One hand is on her knee as my other hand is peeling her panties away from her, pulling them down her legs. As my hands move back up her legs, my fingers dance along her skin, tracing patterns along the way.

  “Fingers, Wyatt,” she moans impatiently.

  I bring my hand to her pussy, and the tips of my fingers trace the crease of skin between her pussy and her thigh. The tip of my finger dips into her dampened folds and sinks into the warmth of her pussy with a contented sigh from the both of us.

  With close attention, I watch my finger dip in and disappear into her wetness. Her walls clamp down on my digit as I pull out.

  I add another finger and continue watching with ultimate desire, and while holding my breath, as my fingers move in and out of her with her hips circling and low breathy moans escaping her lips. I lean in and lightly lash my tongue against her, flattening it across the bundle of nerves above my fingers. I massage her and soon she’s coming apart against me. Her pussy squeezing my fingers as her hands run through my short hair and push me against her as if I could get any closer.

  “Wyatt!” she cries into the quiet room.

  She releases the back of my head and melts in to the mattress with a contented sigh.

  “That was, that was, amazing!” she muses after a moment of silence, while she catches her breath with her head resting against the pillow.

  “I’m not done with you, not yet,” I tell her as I crawl up her body. “I want to tease you, I want to make you desire what I can give you, and I don’t want to be just a fleeting thought. I want you thinking of me and what my tongue can and will do to you, but tonight, we will not be fucking,” I say against her lips.

  “But-.”

  I stop her protests by kissing her. Tongues tangling once again, her hands roaming across my shoulders.

  When I pull away from her, her eyes are glassy, and she has a content smile on her face.

  With her soft curves molding into the contours of my body, I press my erection against her, her writhing underneath me. We still keep our clothes on while our mouths are fused together, and our hands roam one another’s bodies.

  Some time later, her head is resting in the crook of my arm as she trails her fingertips lightly across my arm behind her head.

  “I should get going, maybe we can see another again?” she asks as she sits up.

  “You don’t want to stay?” I ask, unsure of what to do and how to act. Her staying seemed only logical considering what we just did.

  She gets up and straightens her clothing, bending at the waist to pick up her panties from the foot of my bed.

  I get out of bed and arrange myself.

  “I have an early morning, besides, I don’t do sleepovers. This is a small town, and people talk. I don’t like having those kinds of personal conversations with my parents, if I don’t have to - and if they saw my car in front of this house, they would come around asking questions.”

  “Sure,” I say, not completely sure what’s transpiring, following her through the house.

  “Great. I’ll see you later,” she says, exiting the house.

  My back hits the wall by the front door, and I’m floored by what just happened.

  Did we kind of hook up and she just took off?

  Did I do or say something wrong?

  Was going down on her and not fucking her a disappointment?

  At the bar, she was fine with my past and even seemed to be turned on by it, so what the hell just happened?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YOU HAVE A LOT OF TATTOOS,” one of the older women at a nearby table says to me as I place the plates and cups from a neighboring table clearing everything into a bin.

  “Thank you,” I reply with a smile.

  “I didn’t say that I liked them, why do the youth of today like to ruin their bodies with writing on it? I’ll never understand it.” She shakes her head as she purses her lips and turns to her table companion. “Did you know that Julie Everett’s boy moved to the city, and the last time he came to visit his mama, he had pierced his ear and had a big tattoo on the back of his leg?”

  “Oh, Bev, times have changed since we were kids,” her friend says, then moves her head around Bev to see me. “I like your tattoos son, they’re very colorful,” she offers me a smile which I politely return.

  “You can’t seriously see something attractive from ruining your body with that stuff, it’s poison,” Bev says to her friend. “No offense to you, young man. I’m sure that you are a kind boy, you just look like…a derelict.”

  She turns around and I see her friend lean in, and in a hushed whisper, says something just as I walk past their table and bring the dishes into the back. I pull the dishes out and place them in the sink, returning to the front of the bar and making sure that none of the other tables need bussing before I set out to load them.

  I retreat back to the kitchen and almost walk into Percy, the main cook here at the bar. Sometimes, he’s quiet and grumpy, other times he’s loud and grumpy. But he’s a decent guy and stellar cook. Percy is an intimidating bastard, and he knows how to use a knife really fucking good from what I’v
e observed just today.

  “Whoa, buddy, you in a hurry or something to do them dishes?” he asks with a laugh and his hand on my shoulder stabilizing me.

  “Shit, didn’t see you there, man.”

  “Can you do me a huge favor?” he asks. “If I leave, I won’t get this shit started in time for the evening rush, and Ferny called out.”

  “Sure, what you need?” I ask.

  “I’ve just run out of tomatoes. The ones I get from my farmer aren’t going to be here until tomorrow morning, but the market at the end of the road sells the very same tomatoes. Do you think you can do me a solid and grab some?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck.

  I nod, willing to do whatever it takes to keep on the good side of him.

  “Nice. Miles will give you some cash. Whatever they have, grab.”

  “What if there is a hundred?” I ask dumbly.

  “You’ve been here for a few days now, you’ve seen the food go out of my kitchen. Gauge it out by what you’ve seen, if they have at least fifteen, get me fifteen tomatoes.”

  “You got it, man.” I go in search of Miles, and in minutes, I’m out the door and heading in the direction of the market.

  I head straight for the produce section and smile as soon as I see the shapely beauty squeezing the avocados on the stand right beside the tomatoes. I grab a bag and saunter over to her and smile as I reach for a large tomato.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, looking around the space with caution.

  “Shopping, that’s what one does when they go to a market.” I wink at her.

  “For some reason, I wouldn’t have thought to have run into you here, at the market,” she says.

  “Hey, a guy’s gotta eat too. But right now, I’m here on official business. We ran out of tomatoes and Perce needs tomatoes for the dinner hour,” I say, holding up a tomato, inspecting it then placing it in my bag.

  Her body visibly relaxes, and she steps towards me, closing the gap between us. Her hand finds my hip, and she loops one of her fingers through my belt loops, leaning up on her tip toes. With her mouth to my ear, goose bumps erupt across my skin as she begins to talk.

  “I want to finish what we started last week.”

  I smile and nod my head. “That can be arranged, but would you be running away right after again?”

  “Depends, will I be able to walk afterwards?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  FIVE HOURS LATER, I’m hovering over Maggie. Our clothes are strewn on the floor, and she’s wiggling underneath me as I finger fuck her slowly. Leaning down to kiss her, I run my tongue along her lips and nip at the delicate flesh of her skin every few moments or so.

  “I need you,” she moans while exhaling, her chest heaving and her back bowing from the pressure on her lower half as my thumb lightly brushes against the tight nub of pleasure at the apex of her thighs.

  I retreat my hand and fumble for the foil beside my knee on the bed. I tear open the condom with my teeth and lean up on my knees to sheathe my straining cock.

  I direct myself to her entrance and slowly sink into her. Once I am fully seated, I release a breath and hold myself steady.

  “I need just a second,” I say to her quietly. “It’s been awhile, and I don’t want to go too quickly.”

  “Take as much time as you need, just start moving soon,” she replies with a wicked smile.

  My forehead rests on her shoulder while I move my hips slowly. Her pussy pulls at my cock, and I fight back all the urges I have to piston into her and come immediately. This feels exceptional. It’s almost as if I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have my dick deep inside a pussy, since the only form of sex that I’ve had for the past several years is with my hand.

  Her tiny breaths in my ear excite me even more, until I push myself up and look down upon her face. Her eyes are on me, her lips parted as she licks her bottom lip, and breathy mews escape her mouth.

  My head dips to meet her lips as our bodies buck wildly with one another, the sounds of sex echoing off of the empty walls of my bedroom while we both seek our orgasms.

  I put all my weight on one of my arms and move the other between our bodies as my fingers go in search of her magical button. I flick her clit and add pressure to it as my shaft pumps into her, eliciting a cry from her lips. I feel her pussy clenching onto me in rapid beats of pleasure. Maggie’s back bows as she cries out that she’s coming. I piston my hips, and with a wild abandon, I fuck her. With my hand still circling her clit, and her hips bucking up below me meeting me thrust for thrust, my balls tighten, and I release into the condom.

  I pull away my hand from her body and languidly pump into her a few more times before stopping. I make sure that I don’t press her into the mattress with all my weight as I lean my forehead against her shoulder, kiss her skin, and move to pull out of her.

  She sits up slowly and bends to pick up her garments from the floor. I look over my shoulder and confusion must be evident in my expression as she stops her movements.

  “I need to get home; I have to feed my cats,” she offers.

  “I’m beginning to think that you’re just using me, doll,” I state.

  “No, no. That’s not- this isn’t - we’re not-”

  “Listen, I’m not asking for a relationship, unless that’s something that you want to do. I just hope for the courtesy of at least letting me get the condom off my cock before you start rushing out of here.” I stand and throw the condom in the garbage in the corner of the room.

  Her eyes search the area for her panties, and she bends to pick them up when she notices they’re at the foot of the bed.

  “Listen, I’m not sure what this is. Can’t we just have a little fun?” she asks.

  “I’m good with fun, but rather than just taking off after the deed, talk to me for a second.”

  “You want to talk?” she asks.

  “I mean, I’m fucking you, I should know something about you, right?” I return.

  “I can stay for a little bit, but I really should get back home. My cats are on a schedule, it’s like they can tell time. Guaranteed that once I walk in the door, they’ll be screaming at me for feeding them so late.” She smiles, offering me a pathetic excuse.

  I pick up my shorts from the floor and put them on. I don’t bother with a shirt, not caring that she sees the tattoos on my chest and stomach as I have nothing to hide. I motion to the living room and she takes a seat on my couch.

  “Why were you in jail?” she blurts out immediately upon sitting.

  “I was friends with the wrong people, bad influences. They made money sound like the only way to be someone. So, we robbed a shit ton of places and one of which was at gunpoint. I was stupid and thought that my shit didn’t stink.”

  “And now?”

  “And now? Now I’m older and wiser. I know better and look back on those days as not being mature enough to understand the consequences of my actions. If it was now, I wouldn’t think twice and turn that shit down in an instant. Besides, I’m wiser with my choice of friends.”

  “So, you can say that you’re a new man?”

  “I would say that I grew up. I was a child then, and now, yes, a new man.”

  “That’s cool,” she nods, playing with a strand of her hair.

  “What about you? What’s your story?” I ask her.

  “Grew up around here, got my real estate license and cats.”

  “Cats who control your schedule,” I smile.

  “I mean, they’re like little children. They need to be fed, and I need to clean up after them,” she shrugs.

  “And that, along with the small-town gossip, is why you don’t want to stay longer than a quick fuck?” I ask her.

  She doesn’t immediately reply but instead looks around the house.

  “I don’t like people talking about my business. Like I said, this is a small town. I don’t need my mom and dad on my case about anything; they’re old fashioned.”

  “On your case, w
hy would they be on your case? Would it be because of me?” I ask her, daring her to come out and say that my tattoos, my past, would be unfavorable to her family.

  “Yes.”

  Okay, I wasn’t really expecting her to be so forth-right.

  “I mean, it’s nothing against you, it’s just the way that you look. My mother would be super judgy and I wouldn’t ever hear the end of it. So, it’s better to just not even make it a thing that is on her radar.”

  “So, I’m like your dirty little secret?” I laugh.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “I MEAN.” She looks apologetic as her shoulders lift slightly and she whispers with guilt in her eyes.

  “Well, I’ve never dealt with this before.” I scratch my temple in contemplation.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologizes.

  “I get it, I have tattoos, and I don’t look like the standard guy next door. But I’m not, and I’m not going to apologize for it, but I think that you shouldn’t let anyone else, whether parental or feline, define what you do,” I say, emphasizing her need to tend to her cats.

  “I’m not.” She puts her hands on her hips.

  “I’m fine if you want to just hook up, but I’m not going to pretend that I don’t know you if I see you around town, if that’s what you’re looking for. I have a past, and while I’m not proud of parts of it, I’ve learned to not let who I was affect the person that I am today.” I stand and grab the sweatshirt that’s sitting on the chair by the door.

  “What are you doing?” she asks.

  “I need to take a walk. Besides, you have to go, right? I think your cats are waiting to be fed.” I open the door and stand there, waiting for her to get her belongings together. She rushes out past me and stands on the grass of my front yard.

  “I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” she offers with her voice cracking.

  “It’s alright, I mean, it’s something that I need to accept, right? People having preconceived thoughts about me, just because of the way that I look or what they hear about me. But I want you to think about this: these tattoos are just an expression of art. The past is a mistake that I’ve owned up to, but the guy that I am right now, is someone worth getting to know.”