Chapter 11 #2
“So, where’s this package? Gretch is starving and she needs her noms,” Omen says, changing the subject.
I move to my trunk, popping it. I lean in to wrestle Glenn’s dead weight out of the back, slinging him over my shoulder to take him closer to shore, dumping him on the ground.
“I love when he does that manly stuff,” Kristie says out loud, not even fazed by the laughter and jeers coming from the men, offering to show her what they can do. She ignores them all.
Pulling the knife from my boot I slice open the black plastic Glenn is wrapped in, before moving to take Kristie by the hand, leading her to the platform with the rest of the MC sans the Landrys.
I get her settled then stand behind her, pulling her into my chest. She stiffens for a moment, then relaxes into me, her small hands covering mine over her soft belly.
“You ready?”
She nods, her dark hair tickling my nose.
Omen lets out a whistle, he and his brothers working in tandem, doing something at the water’s edge. There’s a splash to the right and moments later Gretchen pulls herself from the water, lumbering onto the bank.
“Wow, she’s beautiful,” Kristie whispers.
“Come on, Gretch, we have your noms,” Saint coos, and the gator falls for his velvety tones, walking right up to him and letting him stroke her on the nose.
I feel Kristie’s head tilt a little, so I lean forward to whisper in her ear. “The Landrys rescued Gretchen when she was a hatchling. She’s incredibly gentle and tame.” I press a kiss to her temple and she melts even further into me.
Gretchen makes her way further up the bank, making a beeline for Glenn’s corpse.
“Buckle up, fuckers! It’s show time!”
Kristie
She’s breathtakingly beautiful. Dangerous and yet gentle with those she loves, I think she might be my spirit animal. She moves with grace, powerful and steady. She stalks Glenn for a moment, moving this way and that, her tail swishing in the long grass, studying her prey.
“Not long now, boys,” one of the MC brothers behind me says.
I don’t know which one, and I don’t want to turn around to find out either.
I’m locked in place, safe on the platform with Dima’s arms around me.
My eyes glued to an animal that I feel more in common with than any human I’ve ever met.
Gretchen and I are death bringers who were lucky enough to be saved by people who saw our worth.
She stalks her prey much in the same way I like to stalk mine.
Circling, watching, waiting. I jump slightly when she lunges, large jaw open wide before latching onto Glenn’s chunky leg.
She thrashes him around to the cheers of the MC behind me, their voices sounding far away as my whole focus is on Gretchen as she drags Glenn into the water with her.
There’s splashing, flailing and before I know it dark red colors the murky waterway.
“Damn, she must have been hungry. She usually plays with them for longer,” Vex says, hands on his hips.
“Speaking of, we got food at the clubhouse so let’s round up.” The Pres circles his finger in the air, jumping down off the platform, the brothers following him.
“Come on, Ved’ma moya,” Dima says gently.
I look at his handsome face over my shoulder. “Do you mind if I stay for a bit?”
His eyes search mine, as if looking for something.
He must find it because he tips his chin before pressing his lips to my forehead.
The loss of his warmth is immediate, causing my gut to clench but the stubborn side of me refuses to follow him.
Instead I sit on the platform, dangling my legs as I gaze out into the water, waiting for glimpses of Gretchen.
It’s almost meditative, eyes glued to Gretchen’s feeding ground, slivers of scaled skin making appearances here and there.
I watch as she slowly disassembles a man that was so evil he deserved everything that brought him to his end.
My only regret is not knowing about Gretchen earlier.
If I did I would have given him to her live and kicking.
My mind drifts to Dima, the man with the piercing blue eyes that see too much.
The man who from just being him has broken down more walls than I thought possible.
He makes me feel things. Warm. Safe. He has me wishing for things that I’m not sure I can have, and that sucks harder than a $2 hooker on a Sunday.
A throb begins behind my eyes, and I screw them shut, holding them tightly closed for a moment before blinking them open, my vision slightly hazy.
I screw them shut again, repeating the movement, hoping that the throbbing isn’t the onset of a migraine.
Or worse, a stroke. Typical. I get halfway through my little side quest and I have a fucking stroke.
My hazy vision clears a little, but I’m not looking at the water waiting for glimpses of Gretchen.
I’m looking at a mansion house, large white columns on either side of the front door.
Dima is there, staring at something in the front yard.
Following his gaze I see a woman in a white gauzy gown running, from what I have no idea.
Turning back to Dima his blue eyes meet mine, softening as he smiles gently at me.
Movement over his shoulder catches my attention and there, in the shadows, is a face I know well.
Or, a partial face I know well. It’s off, not quite human, more like a mask of a face I know well.
Blinking my vision clear, the throbbing dissipates completely until I’m staring at Gretchen coming toward me, water rolling off her body, her rough skin glistening in the sun.
She moves closer, tail making a soft swish swish through the grass, stopping once she’s in front me of, snout very close to my dangling feet.
“Well, girl,” I murmur gently to her, “that was fucking weird. You ever get moments like that?” Her reptilian eyes blink, her attention still on me. “Probably not. I like what you did back there. Really respect your work, lady.”
She makes a soft chuffing noise, before she turns, heading back to the water. Just as I wonder if she gets lonely, another much larger body appears, this gator massive and somehow scary. He moves toward Gretchen and they walk side by side, slipping back into the water, together.
“Well, I didn’t see that coming,” I say to myself.
I mean, if Gretchen can find a partner who will stick with her through thick, thin and her murderous phases, could I possibly find one too?
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dima’s lightly accented voice drifts through the still air, over my right shoulder.
I don’t turn to look at him, because there’s no point. I can feel him with every part of me. It’s like a feeling of peace settles over me when he’s near.
“Thought you were at the clubhouse.”
“I was, but I brought you a plate. Can’t have you killing people on an empty stomach.”
I smile as he sits next to me, his long legs dangling, feet touching the ground. “Good thinking.”
He offers me a plate of ribs, slaw and a roll. “So, who’s next?”
I think for a moment, wondering who is next. There are at least four more on my family list and I’m not very picky about what order I do them in.
“Massimo Martella. He’s one of the higher ups according to the whispers.”
“Massimo it is then,” Dima smiles, watching as I pick up a rib and tear into the meat with my teeth.
We sit there, side by side, staring out at the water.
It strikes me again how comfortable I am with Dima.
He doesn’t talk to fill the dead air. He’s happy to just be with his own thoughts.
Mine on the other hand bounce around between what I need to do.
Locating Massimo, the floor plan of his whereabouts, the best way to get in and out to get the job done.
That’s not even mentioning whatever that weird headache and vision thing was that I had.
Shaking my head I finish my meal, hands a mess from the delicious barbecue sauce on the ribs. I place the paper plate to my left, then busy myself licking sauce from my fingers.
“Kristie, fuck,” Dima groans beside me and I try to hide my smirk and I slow my movements down just a little. I know what I’m doing.
My eyes dart to Dima’s trousers, his thickening cock visible through the fabric as he shifts his hips, either trying to hide the effect I’m having on him, or trying to find a more comfortable position for his hardness.
“What?” I ask, eyes wide and as innocent as they can be.
A look crosses Dima’s face, one of pure determination.
He reaches out, snagging my hand, bringing it to his lips.
His tongue darts out, licking up my index finger before sucking it into his mouth and then releasing it with a gentle “pop”.
He moves on to the next finger, then the next and damn if my pussy isn’t clenching with the need to be filled by Dima.
Any part of Dima. This is how dangerous he is.
Never once in my life have I ever felt this level of need for any other person.
Not even La Madrina and she has fantastic tits.
He moves to my other hand, allowing me to twine my fingers through his hair, guiding his lips to mine once he finished his ministrations.
The kiss starts off gentle, the taste of barbecue sauce tangy on his tongue as it slides against mine.
The soft, gentle kiss fades as my hunger for him takes over and I find myself in his lap, thighs spread, his hard cock pressing against the seam of my jeans and my aching pussy.
“Dima, I need you,” I whisper when I tear my lips from his.
He pulls back, staring intently at me. He scoops me up under my arms, gently placing me to the side of him so he can hurriedly undo his trousers, shimmy them and his boxers down slightly so his cock is freed. The length flush against his belly, the happy trail wet with precum.
Ugh, he looks so fucking delicious. I stand, toe off one of my boots, tear down my zipper and pull my jeans down far enough to be able to free one leg.
I straddle Dima’s slim hips, his wet crown kissing my pussy lips momentarily before slipping between them, nudging my clit as I rock back and forth a little, making sure I’m wet enough to take him. Ha! Who the hell am I kidding?
I raise up on my knees a little, grip the base of him in my fist and aim for my opening, sinking down as soon as his crown comes into contact with the part of me that needs him most.
He grips the back of my neck tight, almost painfully as he groans long and low against my throat.
“Ah, Ved’mochka, you feel so good,” he whispers as he drops gentle kisses along the column of my throat.
My movements are slow, deliberate as I ride him in the open air, the warm breeze cooling the sweat on our faces, the gentle water sounds soothing as we rock our way to completion, as one soul, one being.
Both gifted and cursed, exquisite torture at how we complete each other and yet we can never be.
“Kristiana, look at me,” Dima’s low voice, the slight Russian accent pulls me from my spiraling thoughts.
I blink my eyes open, a burn in my throat, vision blurring with the tears pooled in my eyes.
“Fuck your curse. Fuck everything you think you believe. The fates led me here and I feel complete for the first time, because of you, little witch.” He cups my face in his large hands, his thumbs brushing the tears making tracks down my cheeks.
“Nothing will tear me away from you. In this life, or the next.”
“Do you really believe that?” I whisper, my voice blowing away with the breeze.
“Da. But what’s more important, is that you believe. Trust me, Ved’ma moya.”
My eyes search his and for the first time in a long time, I choose to believe that everything will be fine.
That this time, death won’t catch up with someone I love.
Shit. Love. I think I love him. And I don’t have time to spiral or overthink this, especially not with his softening cock snug inside me.
And especially not with the rustling behind me.
Dima leans to look over my shoulder and his body vibrates gently as he snorts.
Looking over my shoulder I too let out a snort, before my head tips back and I laugh, my clenching pussy squeezing a groan out of Dima as his cock starts to harden again.
The joys of the newly deflowered, his recovery is speedy as hell.
Gretchen stares at us, the big male beside her looking decidedly more judgemental than ole Gretch.
“Ved’ma moya, as much as I’d like to fuck you three ways to Sunday, I don’t really want to become gater bait with my cock out.”
“I thought Gretch was used to being around people?” I ask, unstraddling him and feeling a little bereft as Dima slips out of me, making me feel as if I’m losing a limb. I guess in some ways I am. Ha.
“Gretch is, but I don’t know enough about Smiley to be able to trust him.”
“Smiley? Who the hell is naming these things?” I stare at him as he tucks himself back into his boxers. I wave, saying a gentle goodbye. “You’ll have to ask Saint. They’re his babies.”
I shake my head, pulling my panties and jeans up my one naked leg, trying my best to catch Dima’s dripping cum before it goes further down my leg. I stuff my foot in my boot and stand on the platform, taking one last long look at my spirit sister, Gretchen the Gator.
“Bye Gretch.” I wave at her and I swear she nods at me before walking back toward the water, her tail swishing in what I’d like to think is a hip swing. No wonder she has Smiley eating out of the palm of her hand.
“You two are similar, you know,” Dima says, coming to stand next to me.
I lean into his body a little, surrendering to what is happening between us. It’s better to love and lose and all that jazz. “You think?”
“Both badass, dangerous women who don’t think anything of taking out a man who deserves it? Definitely.”
“You’re a real sweet talker, you know that?”
“Imagine how good I am in my mother tongue.” He nips my ear and I can’t help the shiver that runs through me.
But we don’t have time for this, so I gently backhand him in the stomach. “Down boy! We got people to take care of.”
“Lead the way,” he says, holding his hand out, gesturing I go first.
“And you’ll follow?”
“Always.”