Classic (Adrenaline Book 1) (11 page)

“Are you?” I question. “Are you just looking for a new challenge to pass the time by?”

“No,” he answers. His eyes pin mine down and challenges them to move. When my mouth dares to argue he cuts me off. “I was looking for something to get out of bed for in the morning. Something to be the reds and oranges that fill my life. Something worth living for. Something more than money. More than cars. More than sex. I was looking for you.”

We can't both swoon! Someone has to say something! What do you mean that's me? Shit...no no. Me. Mine.

“I was looking for you too,” I confess.

“Oh yeah?” His nose brushes against mine. “Why?”

“Because you're not afraid to come after me.” The corner of his mouth curves. “You're not afraid of the consequences of getting to know me. You're not afraid of my father.”

“The only thing I'm afraid of Jovi is you walking away.”

On a soft sigh I push my lips to his. Very slowly our lips part to welcome the long over-due exchange.

It's been a few days since we've seen each other.

Before the kiss can get out of hand, he pulls back. “Ready to see another one?”

After my quick nod, I grab my bag as he opens my car door to let me in.

Tonight the drive is the opposite direction of the route we went to see the sunflowers. During the drive he holds my hand, dropping it only when he needs to shift gears. He tells me about some car he was working on at the shop, the story full of energy and joy.

I don't know shit about cars and honestly I don't care. I swear it's like he's speaking a foreign language, but the way he can't stop gushing makes it worth it. Worth every. Single. Word.

“And Knoxie is like your big sister right?” My chance to finally enter the conversation appears.

“Big sister mom figure. Depends on the day really. Prevents Madden from swallowing me whole like a dingo.” I chuckle and he shrugs. “Knoxie definitely keeps Madden in check even if he'll never admit it.”

“Are they together?”

“Not yet,” Merrick answers pulling onto a back dirt road. “Some day. I hope.”

Deciding to drop the subject since it's probably none of my business anyway, I look out the window noticing the lake hiding behind the trees. “Where are we headed?”

“Almost there...” His answer feels in slow motion as if trying to remember exactly where to go.

While I'll be mad if this was just a less than clever rouse to get me to make out with him in the car, I won't be that mad. I swear kissing him is becoming my new favorite habit.

Merrick pulls into a gravel parking lot of an empty restaurant. The building looks rundown and slightly tacky by the out of season Christmas lights dangling from the door. He parks, tilts his head for us to get out, and leads me by the hand through an unlocked wooden gate around to the outdoor dining area that faces the lake. Wondering where on earth he could have painted the artwork he wants to show me, I look to him for answers.

He smiles and instructs, “Look down.”

Underneath our feet is the famous Cafe Terrace at Night spray painted with beautiful bright colors that look even more alluring in the moonlight. With a huge smile I start dragging tables and chairs out of the way along with him, anxious to get a better view of the magnificent recreation.

“How...” I whisper out, preparing to take pictures. “How on earth did you do this and not get caught?”

“I knew I wanted to paint it by the water and the guy who runs this place has two major problems. Holding his liquor and gambling. Put the two together and you can get almost anything from him,” Merrick explains hopping up on the edge of one of the tables.

Raising my camera to my eye I question, “Is that why we waited so late? So that they would be closed?”

“Yup.” He nods. “Most people don't even notice it's under their feet, which sucks because it's one of my favorite pieces and one of the more timely ones.”

I snap another couple of photos before moving around to grab every possible view I could want. While I'm clicking away Merrick is just watching, admiring me praise his hard work.

Slightly weird relationship huh? But it's special. It's ours. Almost like these random taggings of classic artwork he does. Glimpses of something extraordinary in everyday life. Beauty placed in the ugly, forgotten, or overlooked. Sometimes I feel like that. A piece of something special no one can see because of my last name. Because of who my father is. Trapped. Around Merrick though, I guess I feel free.

“A kiss for your thoughts?” The offer gets a look tossed over my shoulder. With his all knowing smile he beckons me his direction with a finger.

Shaking my head I deny him, even though I want it too. “Nope. It's gonna take more than a wiggle of a finger to make me come.”

“Two if memory serves me correct,” the flirty comeback causes my jaw to drop. Snickering he wiggles his eyebrows. “We can retest that if you want.” My lips press together not sure of how to respond. “Or we can test something else.”

Intrigued I ask, “Like what?”

In a sexy tone he answers, “Like anything you want baby.”

“Anything?”

Now the one with a nervous look he says, “Within reason, yeah.” Still weary he suggests, “Wanna go for a walk down by the lake?”

“Nope.” I shake my head slowly putting my camera down. “I want you to sit in the chair.”

Merrick lifts an eyebrow, but slides down into the wire chair next to the table. “Please tell me you're at least gonna sit in my lap.”

Grinning, I straddle him, and drape my arms around his neck. Immediately his body goes taut under my touch and the response is like a gold star reward. I run a fingertip down his scruff covered jawbone line before tilting his chin up to the sky.

Once his head is tilted back at the sky I lean my lips to his neck and whisper, “Tell me what you see.”

“Uh...” he stutters. “Um...” I lightly taste his neck with a lick. “I don't...I don't know. I can't...I can't focus when you're doing that.”

My tongue swirls around softly before I insist, “Try.” He groans in frustration. “Trust me.”

“I see...” Merrick stumbles over his words, his heart thumping heavily against mine. “Crisp clean black with rolls of white roaming across it.”

His description is rewarded by my tongue drifting downward for his collarbone while my hand slips between us to massage his jean covered hard on. “Keep going...”

At the first rub, he groans again this time louder, his head falling backwards. “Jovi.”

“If you want me to keep going, keep talking.” My demand is in sync with my hands that are caressing his cock, enjoying my first experience with one. “What else do you see?”

“Stars,” he barks out as my hand starts undoing his belt. Moving my body to the side, I continue my path of seduction to the other side of his neck. “They're bright bursts. Soul swirling.” At those words, I grip his hard dick in my hand and squeeze the warm entity. Merrick whimpers at my touch and louder when I start stroking. His eyelids get heavy, but he continues, clearly desperate for me not to stop my new expedition. The last words out of his mouth are, “Life consuming.”

Pleased with his responses I start stroking faster, loving the feeling of him gripping me tighter.  I listen to his breathing become ragged, the sound so sexy my pussy begins to soak my thong.

Holy shit. Holy shit! Do you think I'm going to make him come? Do you think I should taste him first? I should right. Glad you agree.

Lowering my body to my knees, I softly request, “Please be gentle.”

“About wh―” is the most that has a chance to come out of him before my mouth replaces my hand, the thrill of being out in the open mixed with the salty taste on my tongue making my muscles clench again. “Goddamn.” Merrick's fingers wind through my hair, getting a soft grip as his dick slips further into my mouth, the suction increasing.

Did you worry about doing this wrong the first time? Is there a wrong way to give a blow job? I mean as long as the end result is him coming right
?

“A little harder,” he pleads in an airy voice. Following the suggestion, I increase the pressure, eyes shutting as I suck in every sensation, every slurp more delicious than the last. Rolling my tongue around and around, teasing the tip, I'm rewarded with deep hearty grunts and grumbles, of my name and curse words, the mixture bringing me to my own personal pornographic poetic heaven. Merrick warns, “Baby...if you don't want it in your mouth, you're gonna have to let go now.” When I add my hand back to help finish, a cry of ecstasy so powerful comes out of him, I swear he's going to combust into a million pieces.  Several hot spurts fill my mouth with the most bitter taste I've ever had, but the sound of him crying out, “Baby...” erases the care.

Fair warning next time. That shit is not pleasant to the pallet.

In a quick motion I swallow the liquid, give his sensitive crown a final suck, and lean back on my heels innocently looking up at him. “Did I do okay?”

For a moment the only sound outside, besides his harsh breathing, is the chirping of crickets. Becoming increasingly worried with each passing second, I rise to my feet prepared to take the hit of screwing up the first time I gave head.

“Was it that bad?”

An eye creeps open and Merrick grabs my hand as best as he can, pulling me onto his lap. I stare down at him until he finally lifts his head up, blue eyes such a harsh color of blue it almost looks like he's stoned.

That's a good thing right?

“Promise me something, Jovi,” he starts.

“What's that?”

“I'm the only guy in the entire fucking world you'll ever do that for.” The request makes me smile wide. When I don't immediately do it, he says in a firmer tone. “I mean it Jovi. I'm the only one. You're mine baby and I don't plan to ever share any part of you.”

“Me either,” I shamelessly agree.

“Good.” Our fingers fold together. “Because you're my own little piece of heaven Jovi and I never wanna leave.”

Before I can concur, his lips softly touch mine, looking for compliance. Giving it with soft pushes of my tongue I get wrapped in the false security we've created around us.

Things like this built on hopes and ideals never last as long as romantics like us plan for it to. That scares the shit out of me. But guess what? I've lived enough of my life not taking risks, suffocating under the rule of fear. I'm not doing it again. No more of that bullshit.

Merrick

“Won't eat a waffle, but will eat the hell out of a waffle cone,” Jovi teases from beside me on the bench outside the ice cream shop. “That doesn't make sense to me.”

I wrap my arm around the edge of the bench and she leans in closer to me. “Doesn't stop you from eating my ice cream does it?”

Jovi sticks out her tongue playfully before taking a lick of the cone we're sharing.

Fuck. Me. That tongue she has...that fucking thing is dangerous as shit. At first I thought she was fucking with me when she implied she'd never given head before, but one roll of that thing and I didn't fucking care. It was so good, I came and wanted to keep coming for hours. Talk shit about me all you want for coming a little fast, but I have been jacking off to that scene twice a day since it happened. That shit's good.

With a smile I lean over. “You've got ice cream on your face.”

“Where?”

My tongue dart out of my mouth to slowly lick off the chocolate drop from the corner of her lips. In the process, she tilts her lips towards me, donating them to my tongue. Thrilled at another chance to have her tongue with mine, I slip it in her mouth, hand gripping the cone to the point of possibly crushing it.

Did I mention her mocha skin is as smooth as the ice cream we're eating? Tastes better though.

After exiguous whimpers come from my girlfriend, I lightly pull my lips away from hers, having another swipe of the melting treat in my hand, loving the head in the clouds look that Jovi has.

You see that right? She looks high...I fucking love it.

“So,” she sighs once her brain kicks back into functioning. “Tonight....dinner? Movie?”

Knowing not to act anything other than absolutely fucking cool, I shake my head. “Can't. Have to work for a bit. How about tomorrow? I can take you to my favorite little nacho spot.”

“You're always eating nachos.”

“I love nachos. Chips. Beans. Cheese. Meat. Dip that shit in sour cream and more cheese, what the fuck isn't there to love about that?”

Jovi giggles and I realize the sugar rush from ice cream can never fucking compete to the one I get from this girl. “You're weird.”

“You're strange.”

Not missing a beat Jovi says with sass, “You're picky.”

“You're perfect.” The compliment closes her mouth and I have another lick of ice cream in victory. Afterwards I smirk. “I win.”

“This round,” she huffs and checks her cell phone. “Why do you have to work late at night?”

“We have a couple of private jobs for higher clientele that require a little extra time. It happens occasionally. Couple times a month. It's not a big deal,” I lie.

There's no way I can tell Jovi where I'll actually be. And wipe that skeptical look off your face. I'm not cheating on her. I would never cheat on her. She's fucking amazing. I just can't tell her where I'm going because...it has to be kept secret. But don't we all have secrets?

Accepting the answer at face value, she smiles. “I understand. I'll just wrap up a little more of my project tonight then and free up my evening for you tomorrow.”

“Exactly,” I say before changing the subject. “Speaking of, how many more photos do you think you need?”

“Maybe one more photo shoot and then you can paint me. I've got three weeks on the project left and then it has to be turned in the last week for finals. After that it's just a few weeks and...” her voice trails off not wanting to discuss the subject.

“And then I'm driving hours to come visit you baby,” I speak up and the words make her smile in relief. “Now, do you want any more of this thing? It's making my fingers sticky in the wrong way.”

Jovi giggles and denies the offer. I stand, toss the cone in the trash, wipe my hands, and hold it out for her to take. “Come on. Let's get you back to campus before your next class.”

She grabs her bag from beside her feet and slips her hand with mine. With similar grins we head back towards my car in a sweet silence.

It's weird I know, but I don't feel I have to talk every minute she's around. Just being in her presence is enough. Fuck. Is this what Romeo sounded like too? If I start talking about seeing a friar, nut punch me.

**

Two sharp pounds on my bedroom door let me know Madden is ready to go. I finish tucking in my long sleeve black shirt and open the door. With the same grim expression he always has when it's time for this kind of work, he gives me a nod to acknowledge my status. I nod in return and head for the living room where Destin is set up behind the computer prepared to change traffic lights, redirect cops, and track our whereabouts.

On my way over to Drew who is sitting at the kitchen table I call over to Destin, “Green light?”

“Almost,” he answers as my other brother opens the two briefcases on the table.

Spreading my fingers wide I allow him to replace my fingerprints with the fake ones.

If you were thinking we were low class criminals, you were very mistaken.

He repeats the process for Madden, before handing me my pure white mask I wear while I drive. What most people only see during masquerade parties or Halloween, I've turned into a symbol of fear and intrigue. I hold the object in my hand and continue to admire the blankness of the face that the police can't catch.

How Drew does this kind of shit I'll never understand, but he's always made my masks. And while they look creepy and suffocating from the outside, it's molded to gently become one with my face to point sometimes I forget it's still on.

“Knoxie is downstairs with Daniel,” Drew says handing us ear wedges. “Green Light.”

Ugh. I hate putting this shit in my ear. Swear it feels like a wedge of cheese ground inside.

Madden pushes his wedge in his ear. “Triple D!”

Destin looks up and shoves his piece in his ear. I look over to see Drew doing the same.

Disapprovingly Madden gives me a stern look.

“I'll put it on in the car.” His eyebrows raise. “You know how much I hate these things.” Madden rolls his eyes and I say to Drew, “You can make a mask that fits my face so naturally but can't make an ear piece that doesn't feel like you've broken off a block of cheddar and wedged it inside?”

“Bitch. Bitch. Bitch baby brother.” Drew shakes his head. “Get your head in the game.”

“My head is fine. Better if it wasn't full of fucking cheese,” I playfully remark and Madden elbows me. Taking the hint, I say, “See you on the other side Triple D.”

“Safe drive.” Destin turns back to his two laptops hooked up on the coffee table.

“Safe ride,” Drew echoes.

Without another word we exit and take the stairs to the inside of the garage where Knoxie is leaned up against the edge of one of the work stations, dressed in her tight black jeans, tank top, and tennis shoes ready to work like the rest of us.

Before Madden can question her she flashes him the keys and points to the ear piece already in place.

See. No one likes to listen to Madden bitch.

He slips the keys out of her hand, tugs on the edge of her shirt where her stomach is peaking out, and gives her a short grunt that makes her smile.

I don't speak caveman. Do you?

“Ghost,” Knoxie says to me grabbing my attention before I have a chance to open the door. “Don't let 'em see you.” I wink and she continues, “Glove compartment has the location. You're bringing home a Hot Tottie tonight not a present. Last of Triple D is already waiting.”

Translation? Tonight we're swapping this car for one that The Devil is having delivered. If we were picking up a present, it would be some sort of drug he needed brought back to him. Why can't he move his own cars? I try not to ask questions, but what I've gathered is when he we pick up a present its always him being brought whatever product it is he is pushing, and when we bring him Hot Totties, there's typically money and the car is acting like a giant packaging distraction.

The two of us slide in the car and Madden hands me the keys. Before starting the cherry red Ferrari, I run my fingers around the steering wheel, caressing her the same way I would a canvas before painting.

Crime is an even more delicate art form than the others.

As soon as I start her up Madden, says to me our traditional warm up statement. “What's the way of the McCoy?”

“Finish first on the road and last in bed,” I answer and slip on the mask.

Knoxie lets up the garage door and I back out slowly, as Madden pulls out the location.

Besides navigation, Madden's job is muscle. Once upon a time he did my job, but when The Devil found out I could out race him, he couldn't resist twisting Madden's arm into letting me take his place. To say I hate this, would be a lie, but sometimes late at night I wonder what life would be like if I would've never begged to be a part of this lifestyle. Don't tell anyone, but I fear that I'll never be able to get out...

“Triple D I've got an address. You ready?”

“Do it.”

Madden reads off the information and I pull out on the street. Destin begins doing his part, giving me the route he wants me to take to get me to the exchange on time and unseen. Shifting into Ghost mode, I take off, aware of the small window that's given to us.

The Devil never allows a reasonable amount of time for any fucking thing. Between the amount of heat on us and the type of business he does, the less amount of time with weak points exposed the better.

I weave in and out of traffic, the engine purring at me in approval as I take more daring choices than my brother approves of by his heavy sighs.

Some are for purpose. Some are fun. If I'm gonna commit this kinda crime, I told myself I wanted to do it with a little signature swag.

Reaching the 110 mark, I fly down the highway increasing the speed to make sure to stay on time and decrease the chance of being seen.

“Triple D?” Madden questions over the ear piece.

“Clear for the next 16 miles.”

Pleased with the answer, I push the car a little more, a little harder, a little forceful.

Hey, it's what they're made for.

The two of us follow Destin's directions until we arrive in the swap location in an abandoned parking garage with 2 minutes and 25 seconds to spare.

Not my best work, but not my worst.

Knowing the drill, I park and wait while Madden gets out to make the actual exchange. I watch him head over to the two men standing beside a white Lotus Elise that's got my hands gripping the wheel tightly in excitement to get behind it. Words are exchanged and I stare on prepared to put the back-up plan in motion if anything goes wrong.

Both of us have thin bullet proof vests under our shirts, but that doesn't mean they won't aim for somewhere else. Overly cautious? Maybe. But I try to remind myself there may be codes in the criminal world, but obviously we're all on this side of the law for a reason, ya know?

As soon as Madden has the keys in his hand, he gives me the signal to exit the vehicle. I do so cautiously, both hands raised indicating I'm not armed and make my way to the other vehicle just as slowly. Once we're switched, I slide in the front seat, start her up and peal out before second guesses can be made.

The real trick isn't in the amount of time it takes to get to the exchange, but the amount of time it takes to get back.