EVANDER

I’m not even sure how it happened.

One minute, I’m charging the unwanted presence, knowing that I’ll have no choice but to kill him. Then next, I’m pinned against the wall, my cheek pressing so hard into the brick frame that I’m worried ever so briefly that my perfect face has been ruined. 

His big hands are wrapped around my wrists, pinning them above my head. Squeezing so hard that I’m forced to let go of the switchblade, hearing it clatter on the floor, but it’s nothing compared to the roaring in my head.

Motherfucker.

Just why does he smell so good?

His cologne is rich and woodsy, invading my senses, drowning me in them. It’s almost too much, suffocating me, and a part of me gags in response, trying to pull away, but he is too strong for me. He is easily overpowering me, his chest pressing against my back, and I’m very aware of how my butt is pressed against his hips.

Fucking dick, stop getting harder in this situation.

You don’t know what this piece of shit is going to do to you.

“Let. Me. Go.” I emphasize through gritted teeth, no longer struggling to get free because I’m certain now that he isn’t going to let me go if I continue to struggle.

He chuckles, a low, delicious noise that spreads through my body. I’m a man, no doubt, but hearing his deep voice does something to me. Makes me crave a lot more from him. Makes me ache to have him buried deep inside of me…

Fuck. Must be my dick talking.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to let you go.” He teases softly, lightly brushing his lips against the shell of my ear, another shiver wracking down my spine, “if I let you go, whose to say that you’re not going to pick up your little piece and drive it into my neck? Don’t you think that wouldn’t be very smart of me?”

I wish that I could rip his head off for even speaking to me, but I look straight ahead down the alley, slightly worried that someone would notice and then they would find the crimescene, “I won’t do anything to you. I just want to get this done.”

“Done?” He moves slightly, and something tells me he is looking at the body not even a few feet away, “oh, yeah. That thing. I noticed you following him. I couldn’t help but be curious but never did I think that you would take it this far.”

I roll my eyes, and ultimately realize that I had been really fucked up when it came to paying attention to my surroundings, “well, shit, I guess you caught me. Does this mean you’re going to report me to the police?”

He’s quiet.

“No, the police and I don’t get along very much, and I’d like to think that I can clean up this mess for you.” Is his response finally, and I’m more confused now, wondering precisely what I have just gotten myself in the middle of, “if you be a good boy, I’ll make sure you never have to worry about them ever again.”

Really?

Is he being serious?

“How do I know that you’re not just fucking with me?” I ask him now, tilting my head back so I could try to see his face, “there’s nothing for you to gain from this.”

“Actually, there is.” He corrects me, and that’s when I realize there is something hard pressing against my butt, grinding ever so slightly, “let me keep seeing you destroy these motherfuckers, and I’ll make sure that you can kill as many as you want.”

“That’s all that you want?” I whisper, not so sure what he could possibly gain from watching me kill, “because it seems to me like you want a lot more than that by your dick pressing against me.”

I know he’s grinning by the low taunting way his voice is coming out now, “maybe so, but you’re really in no place to question me, now are you?”

My erection won’t go down even though I keep wanting it to, and his voice keeps doing something to me. It’s making me crave more of him, and although I never thought I’d be interested in a guy - although I’ve never truly been interested in either sex - something about this man makes me want to forget all reason and be fucked against this wall like a slut.

I’m not going to voice those words though.

That much I can say.

It would be a million years before I ever ask someone to fuck me.

“Fine, I won’t kill you.” I finally concede, wondering if I can really trust him, “but how are you going to get rid of his body?”

“Easy enough.” The man mumbles, and he releases one of my wrists, lowering it to rest on my hip, lightly brushing underneath the hem of my shirt, teasing me, “all I have to do is call my men and it’ll be cleaned up before anyone even realizes what has happened.”

His cool touch sends me into overdrive, and I keep willing my dick to go down.

“Then do it.” I whisper hoarsely now, praying he lets me go.

“I will.” He assures me, but then reaches around and roughly cups my dick through my pants, a low moan escaping me before I bite down harshly, not allowing myself to make more noises, “but right now, I think we need to take care of this before they show up. You have five minutes.”

I should stop him.

He let go of my wrist. I should at least punch him and tell him to piss off like I would anyone else. But I don’t, breathing heavier than normal as I patiently wait to see what he is going to do to me. I don’t have to wait long as he swiftly unbuttons my pants and lowers the zipper in one fluid movement, so easily that it makes me think that he has probably done this a time or two.

Motherfucker.

Touching me after touching some other bastards.

Just that makes my blood hot.

But those murderous thoughts evaporate as he lowers my boxers just enough to let my cock spring free, the cool air an electric shock compared to the heat surrounding him. I’m not small by any means, but when he wraps his hand around my base, I notice just how big his hands are.

Fucking hell. 

Even his hands feel good.

“You can fuck my hand if you want.” He gives me the okay, nipping lightly on the side of my neck that makes me shiver, “I won’t have your ass yet.”

I want his hand.

I don’t even care at this point, rocking my hips back and forth as his semirough grip on my dick does something more to me. It’s almost too much, my balls churning with intense need as I feel like I’m going to cum at any moment.

My low grunts of pleasure echo through the darkness, but low enough that I’m certain nobody else will hear. I enjoy every second of it, how the rough callouses on his fingers glide across my girth, touching the most sensitive area of my prick.

How with every thrust, he rubs against the sensitive glands, precum dripping from the tip as I feel like at any moment, I could explode. I’m going to cum and I think that he knows it, too, by how hard he is jerking me off.

He starts to match my erratic thrusts.

And then, he whispers his filthy words.

“Such a good little slut, fucking my hand and taking what you want.” He all but growls, and his teeth dig harshly into the sensitive flesh of my neck, and for a brief moment, I wonder if he drew blood, “my dick isn’t even inside of you yet and you’re acting like a little horn dog. A little murderer chasing his high. Am I right?”

I want to deny it.

I want to tell him to piss off.

I want to rip his throat out with my teeth and scream at him.

I want to show him precisely what Evander Harris is made of.

What I WILL do to him.

But instead, I reach back and grip the back of his neck, dragging him impossibly closer and growl, “I’m starting to get bored, motherfucker. If you’re going to stroke my cock, then finish it. If not, get your fucking hands off of me.”

I thought that he would take his hands off of me, but instead, he jerks me off faster. Rougher. Rubbing the tip of my cock with the pad of his thumb, sending an electric shock straight down to my balls.

Oh fuck.

“I’m going to cum!” I moan, resting my head against his shoulder, “fucking hell, don’t stop.”

I’m not sure what he did but with one swift twist of his hand, I’m coming apart. 

My cum shoots out of my dick, coating the brick wall, no doubt leaving a mess. My knees buckle, and I’m grateful for him because if he hadn’t held me up like this, I’m certain that I would have collapsed. Never once have I had an orgasm so intense that I felt it to my very core.

And by the hard on pressing against me, I can tell he feels the same way.

“Are you going to let your men see my dick out like this?” I ask him softly, my tone coming out less harsh than I intended it to be, wondering why my body feels so lax, “because I’m not quite comfortable with sharing.”

He releases my other wrist and easily puts me back in my pants, fixing my pants with ease. I don’t know why this small movement made my heart stutter, the cracks forming briefly before I quickly closed it back up. Hell no, this had been just a moment of pleasure.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

This bastard will get nothing out of me.

I still don’t know why he did this.

“Follow me.” His soft whisper in my ear makes me pull away, and I turn my head to hopefully get a better look at him, “my men have arrived.”

I should swing and run in the opposite direction, hoping that he would never be able to find me since I’m certain that he is unable to see my face. But when I hear footsteps heading towards us, I know that I’m not going to be able to hit him without them noticing.

So against my better judgement, I let him guide me towards his car.

Wow, did he stop and approach me on purpose?

What a sick little bastard.