Diego
Warmth blooms through my mind like the creeping heat of the sun’s rays stretching across the sky. My dreamless sleep has been the best night’s sleep I’ve had since Valentina scrambled into my car and the desire to leave it is very minimal.
I want to sleep forever.
To soak up every bit of rest I can possibly get before the next disaster hits.
But the warmth doesn’t dissipate. It spreads through my body and grows in strength until tingling goosebumps rush up and down my arms. Sleep fades in slow, relaxing waves and the waking world around me grows in strength.
The soft pillows beneath my head. The lumpy mattress that’s not at all worth the cost of this room. Rough sheets against my skin from a wash that doesn’t know the meaning of fabric softener. The warm, wet heat of… of…
Wait a second.
Cracking open one eye, it takes a shamefully long few seconds for me to realize that the warmth I’m soaking up is coming from Valentina’s mouth wrapped around my cock. Glancing down the length of my body, I gently prop myself up on one elbow and meet her wide-eyed gaze.
Pink flushes across the tops of her cheeks, her gorgeous hair pools to the side over one shoulder like an amber curtain, and her lips stretch around my cock. A stretch that widens the more awake I become and all my blood immediately rushes south at the erotic sight of her mouth around my cock.
“Good morning,” I croak, screwing up my eyes just slightly toward the sunlight streaming in through the threadbare curtains.
Valentina hums her greeting and the vibrations shoot straight through my cock, sending me back down against the pillows with a long, low groan. I have no restraint this early in the morning, especially not when I’ve just woken up, so every second of her attention is amplified in my mind.
Her tongue rolls and curls against the underside of my cock, suction pulls all the heat to the base of my gut, and her soft hums send delicious vibrations through my shaft.
Curls of pleasure settle deep in my balls and I close my eyes, debating whether I have the strength to stop myself from coming immediately like some horny teenager.
She makes it impossible. One hand strokes up my inner thigh and then settles around my balls, lightly squeezing and massaging them against her palm while she continues to slowly bob her head up and down my cock.
I’ve no idea what I did to deserve this, but it’s a dream to be woken by a beautiful woman unable to keep her hands to herself.
Am I really living that dream right now?
“Holy shit,” I whisper. My hips lift slightly off the bed as Valentina sinks low enough that my cockhead lightly bumps the back of her throat.
She swallows, and the silky compression of her muscles around the crown of my cock coupled with the intense pressure as she sucks is more than enough for me to lose complete control.
Not that I had it to begin with.
My orgasm crashes over me in gentle yet intense PULSES. My balls tighten, my cock twitches, and all my pent-up heat explodes forth in a rush that Valentina repeatedly swallows down until I’m completely spent and sagging back down onto the mattress with a pounding heart.
“Wow…”
“Good morning,” she murmurs after pulling off my cock with a soft, light pop. “How are you feeling?”
“Any answer other than amazing would be a disservice to being woken up like that,” I groan softly, propping back up onto my elbow to look at her. “Holy shit.”
“Good?” She lazily begins crawling up my body toward me.
“So fucking good,” I reply as she reaches me. Cupping her chin, I guide her in for a slow, lazy kiss, uncaring about the taste mingling between us. “Want me to return the favor? I’m eager to oblige.”
Unfortunately, she shakes her head and kisses me again, a lazy press of lips that lasts through several slow, sweet exchanges until she curls her lower lip briefly into her mouth. “I’m too sore. Later.”
“Absolutely.” Word of her pain causes me to lean up fully, and I help her re-situate herself on the bed beside me. “I need to get you painkillers. And food.”
“I’m not hungry.” The words have barely made it past her lips when her stomach gurgles, growls, and then rumbles so loudly that I quickly cover her abdomen with my palm and feel the vibrations beneath.
“You wanna try lying again?”
“Not a lie,” she says. “I don’t feel hungry.”
“Well your body definitely is. And I can’t give you any painkillers on an empty stomach.”
“Alright. What’s on the menu?”
What indeed? After finally sleeping for the first time in weeks, my mind is clearer.
Whoever was at my apartment has turned that place into a no-go zone.
Money-wise, I’m scraping the last cents from my account to pay for this room, which limits food to whatever exists in the dollar vending machines I glimpsed on the way in last night.
At least until I get more cash.
But where? I can’t ask Valentina when she already saved my life with that cop. I could call a couple of people from the bar, but meeting or interacting with them in any way risks putting them on the radar for whoever is after us, cops included.
I could steal it, but from where? It's been a long time since I’ve had to steal money, but it was a surefire way to fuel my terrible drug habit back in the day.
“Diego?” Valentina’s hand rests on my arm and her brows knit together with concern when our eyes meet. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking of the most effective route to get you painkillers and food without having to spend too long outside. Because why would I want to leave with you right here?” Lightly grasping her chin once more, I lean down and kiss her again as slowly as before.
There’s slight heat to the touch, but I can’t tell if it’s from a fever or from her activities.
I pray it’s the sex.
“Stay here. I’m going to get dressed and find you something to eat.”
“I can come.”
“No!” It bursts out of me and I shake my head. “Sorry. You’re in pain and if we run into anyone like that cop yesterday, I don’t want you to feel like you have to defend yourself or anything like that. So you stay here and rest.”
Her lips press into a thin line but she nods her agreement. “Alright. I’ll stay.”
After tucking the blankets around her, I head into the bathroom to relieve myself and wash my face. If the worst comes to worst, I can break into the vending machines and just take what I need, but painkillers aren’t cheap or easy to come by. Especially if I don’t want people asking questions.
Turning to the sink, I run the tap and wash my hands and then pause when I catch myself in the fogged mirror.
The bags under my eyes have faded a little after a proper night’s sleep, but the bruising around my throat is blooming to life. That man almost killed me. This entire nightmare has been a close call on my life, but somehow, that man was scarier than the car crash and the assholes with the gun.
Scary, I guess, because he almost succeeded if not for Valentina.
Swallowing feels tight but I ignore it as I wash my mouth with a few handfuls of water, dress, and then head back out into the room.
“I won’t be long, but don’t open the door for anyone.”
“I won’t.” She smiles warmly at me from her nest of pillows but the pain fogging her eyes is clear. Whatever window we have before her pain overwhelms her is rapidly closing.
I have to act fast.
Snatching up my phone, I kiss her forehead and leave the motel room, stepping out onto the walkway where the somewhat familiar stench of cigarette smoke and piss fills the air.
With only a handful of dollars left, I head down to the ground where a couple of scarcely filled vending machines gleam in the bright sunlight.
Variety is a thing of the past, it seems, as one machine is filled with cigarettes, a couple of condoms, and the same brand and flavor of chips all the way down.
The second one has a couple of candy bags, more of the same chips, and two bottles of neon blue drink. They’ll have to do. I feed my dollars into the machine and press the keys, then turn on my phone while I wait for my highly nutritious snacks.
[Mindy] You’re dead meat, you hear me?
[Mindy] I need more money and you owe me.
[Mindy] Seriously, Diego. I need more. You know what it’s like. I’m going to claw myself apart if you don’t help me get what I need.
[Mindy] Do you want my death on your conscience, huh? Do you really care that little?
[Mindy] Fucking cunt. I hope you and your whore die.
[Mindy] I’m sorry. Didn’t mean it. Was the come-down talking.
[Mindy] You gotta help me.
[Mindy] Answer your phone, you fucker.
[Mindy] Or I’ll come to your house.
[Mindy] I’m gonna come and slit my wrists on your doorstep. Least I’ll get high at the hospital.
[Mindy] Fuck you, I hope you die!
All her messages pour through in bulk, as well as numerous missed calls to the point that my phone lags trying to load them all.
Staring down at them, my heart jolts slightly and my stomach twists with guilt.
The only reason she’s suffering a come-down is that I gave her money to go away.
I knew what she would do with it, but it still pains me to be the cause, even if without me, she would have gotten what she needed some other way.
Buried beneath those messages is a voicemail from an unknown number. I hit play while gathering the snacks from the machine.
“Diego,” comes a painfully familiar voice.
The cop from the bar. Clark. “You left me with quite the mess, you and your little bitch. I’ll keep things short and sweet.
You can’t run forever. You might think you can.
Hell, she might tell you that you can evade me, but let me make one thing crystal clear.
I always get what I want. Time is running out for you.
Do the right thing and hand her over. Maybe I’ll even let you walk away. Call me.”
I need to get rid of this phone, but buying another is way out of my budget.
Maybe Valentina will know what to do. With my snacks under one arm, I scroll past a few last tempting messages from Tech who’s overly determined to get me to sell for him.
He keeps talking it up in terms of the money I’ll make and the trust he has in me.
It’s painfully tempting.
“Mr. Diego?” An unfamiliar voice catches me as I’m two steps up the stairs to the walkway. Turning on my heel, I’m braced to throw the snacks and run, but it’s not the cop standing there. It’s the motel manager.
He looks just as shitty as he did last night and quickly runs one hand over his bald head, then points at me with fingers stained yellow. “You.”
“Me?” I glance around. “What about me?”
“You owe me.”
“For what?”
“Your second payment declined for the room,” he snaps with a wet snort. “So you and your guest? You gotta leave, you hear me? I want you out.”