Death Blow (11 page)

“That’s far too clever for Jackson,” Barrett tipped his
sunglasses down to really look at her. “That one had to have come from you.”
Lila crossed her arms.

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Got a helmet for me on this
thing, or what?”

“Scared of a little motorcycle ride?” Barrett smirked.
Before Lila could answer, he handed her his helmet. “I don’t blame you. No
telling how a psychopath like me might drive. Take mine. I’ll risk it.” Lila
received the helmet from him, which was much heavier than she thought it’d be.

“Where are we going to again?” she asked, throwing a leg
over the back of his bike and sliding onto it. Her body pressed against his
and, despite the many layers of clothing, her sex clenched at just the thought
of being that close.

“Shooting range. You’ll see. A favorite of mine.” Barrett
spoke to her over his shoulder, and she basked in the precision of his profile
for a moment. His nose, his chin, his jawline—the man was sculpted to
perfection. A sheen of sweat glistened on his scalp, which Lila could see
through his short hair. She wanted to lick every inch of him. Without another
word, he turned around and gunned the bike. Lila slipped the helmet over her
head and was instantly smothered in his smell—a potent, woodsy musk that
smelled like perspiration and cedar. It drove her crazy, and all she could do
was wrap her arms around his waist and hold on tight.

They sped out of the gravel driveway, rocks kicking up
behind them, and hit the open road.

Barrett handled the bike like a pro, and it was a smooth,
fast ride. If there were no cars—and there weren’t, in either direction, for
long periods of time—Barrett would weave rhythmically over the double yellow
line, arcing big, luxurious waves across the pavement. Lila had never ridden on
a motorcycle before, but this seemed almost easy with Barrett at the helm, and
he seemed so relaxed and quiet she couldn’t help but get more comfortable
herself. After about a 20 minute ride, he pulled off onto another gravel road
and headed down a wooded path to an unassuming, one-story building, made out of
corrugated metal. No sign on the front, no markings of any kind. Barrett parked
the bike and turned to wait for her to disembark first. Lila threw the helmet
off her head, her bun coming loose and her hair flowing everywhere as she shook
it out.

“This is it? Where are we?”

“It’s a private place, don’t worry about it.” He sat back on
his seat, pushing more into her. “What, are you worried I’m going to kill you
and leave you out here?” He laughed. Lila shoved the helmet into his chest a
little hard and slid off the seat.

“I wasn’t until you said that,” she replied. She watched him
throw his leg over the bike. She wasn’t sure if he was going to kiss her; she
knew that she wanted him to. He swiveled to her, giving her a wolfish
once-over, lingering over her exposed midriff.

“You should be worried. I’d like to chop you up and eat
you—right? Is that what psychopaths say?” He stepped closer to her.

“You’re really gunning for some sort of psychopath nickname
here, huh? What, you want me to call you Ted Bundy?” He took another step
closer to her. Her breath became more shallow. She wanted to touch him so
badly.

“Nah, come on, you can come up with something better than
that.” He lingered this close to her for a moment, taking in her face,
deliberately focusing on her mouth for a good while, driving her crazy, before
he winked and walked off in the direction of the entrance. “This way,” he
called behind him. Lila gathered herself, trying to ignore the wet that was
already spreading between her legs, and followed him to the door.

He knocked in a pattern of threes on a nondescript grey
door, and a sliver of it slid back to reveal the eyes of a man. He recognized Barrett,
then looked at Lila.

“Who’s she?” he asked gruffly.

“She’s with me, that’s who,” Barrett said coolly.

“Yeah but who
is
she?” the man asked again, narrowing
his eyes at Lila.

“Come on, Bruce, cut the shit and let me in.” Barrett sighed
and unzipped his leather jacket. Lila caught a quick glimpse of his thin,
threadbare, grey t-shirt.

Bruce grumbled behind the door and slid the peephole shut.
After some banging and turning, the door opened, and Bruce stepped aside to let
them in—not without staring Lila down a little bit. She didn’t break eye
contact though, just smiled at him as she walked past. Inside was dim,
fluorescent, low ceilings.  She and Barrett clicked down a long, empty hallway,
thin sheet rock walls on the right and paneled windows on the right, looking
out onto a long shooting range.

“Ever been to one of these?” he asked as she walked.

“Nope.” She stared through the windows. “Never shot a gun
before.”

“Never? Aw, baby’s first gun.”

“Baby?” she shoved him lightly. “How old are you anyways?”
She realized she had no idea.

“24,” he said, turning off to the right and entering a door
that opened up into small lockers and benches. She followed him inside.

“Baby, my ass,” she grinned. He sat down on one of the
wooden benches and started to slip his motorcycle boots off, looking at her.

“Yeah? How old are you?” One off, then the other. He turned
to a locker and spun the dial on a Masterlock, clicking it open. Inside was a
clean, white undershirt, sneakers, and an extra pair of jeans folded up on top
of them.

“15,” she said, just to watch his eyebrows fly up in a
moment of panic. She broke into laughter. “Gotcha. Wow, you really believed me
there for a second? Too easy.” Barrett faked a frustrated growl and pulled her
over to him, hands tightly gripped on her ass. He put his face into her
stomach, breathing her in as he slid his hands up to her lower back and then
down to her ass again. The whole thing with Barrett was such a
rollercoaster—one moment he wasn’t paying her any attention, or he was leaving
her, panties down, in a public bathroom, and one minute he was clutching her to
him like he needed her right there. After a moment, she put her hands on his
head, cradling him to her. They sat there like that for what seemed like a long
time, but couldn’t have been more than a couple seconds. Then, Barrett pulled
away to reach for his sneakers. Lila sat down beside him. She didn’t have
anything to change into, after all, so she just watched him.

“You could lose that sweater,” he said as he tied one of the
shoes, “and your purse.” She took her purse off and set it on the bench between
them. He grabbed it and hung it in his locker.  “And the sweater,” he said.

“Do I need to take it off?” she asked, confused. Barrett
turned to look at her.

“You need to take it off so I can watch you shoot a gun in a
crop top.” That glint, that better-to-eat-you-with smile—Lila wasn’t sure she’d
ever get over how sexy she found him. She didn’t want to get over it. She
shrugged her cardigan off her shoulders and handed it to him.

“Good enough reason for me,” she said.

“All right,” he closed the locker and stood up. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the locker room, back into the
hallway and through a different door to a small offshoot of the shooting range.
In here were goggles and muffler headphones, plus a whole wall of firearms.

“Wait, is that legal? To have a whole shelf of guns? I
thought you had to bring your own or something—“ Barrett handed her a set of
headphones.

“Told you, private place. Private rules.”

“I’ve been hearing that a lot these days.”

“Yeah, well, you work at Club Malevolence. Get used to it.”
He handed her a pair of goggles now, and then walked to the gun wall and
grabbed a small handgun. “We’ll just share this one, unless you want your own.”

“Hmmm,” Lila slinked over to join him at the shelf. She ran
a hand over some of the guns, walking along the wall and inspecting them.
Barrett watched her, a quiet lust building in his eyes. She could feel the heat
behind his gaze on her body. She stopped at a handgun, similar in size to the
one Barrett had but with a different grip, and picked it up. It was heavy and
cool in her hand, but the grip fit her nicely. “You take that one, I’ll take
this one.” She smirked at him, and he clenched his jaw in a smile in return.

“Okay, come on.” He led her through the door into the range.

“You’re a natural,” he said to her, back in the locker room.
They’d spent a couple hours shooting, Barrett teaching Lila the ropes, sidling
up behind her to show her a better position for her arm. He’d found a million
ways to touch her that afternoon, and Lila was doing everything she could to
keep her cool. She didn’t want to give Barrett the upper hand, and he really
already had it. She had been a pretty good shooter, actually, and after a
couple rounds of getting used to it, she was getting a lot of kill shots.
Barrett, of course, was great—a shot
off
target was rarer for him than
the opposite. He’d shot a smiley face right before they went back to the locker
room, the grinning ghost flying back to them as they pulled the paper in.

“Yeah, you’re not so bad yourself,” she responded, leaning
back on her elbows on the wooden bench, watching Barrett take his sneakers off.
She was splayed out, legs straddling the bench, begging him to touch her here
but not wanting to initiate it. He chuckled, putting his sneakers back into the
locker. Then, he twisted his chest in her direction, taking her in, biting his
bottom lip. She tapped her feet impatiently, grinning at him.
Come on
,
she thought.
Come on, Barrett
.

As if hearing her thoughts, he slid himself closer, putting
his hands on the bench on either side of her waist, and leaning forward,
dragging his face lightly up her stomach, between her breasts, until his mouth
found her bare neck and latched on. It felt like salvation to Lila, having
Barrett explore her body again. She arched her back to meld further with him,
moaning softly as he licked up and down her throat. Barrett swung a leg over
the bench so he was sitting on it, then grabbed Lila roughly and pulled her
onto his lap. Their mouths met as their hips did, and they kissed ferociously,
hungrily. Barrett pulled her down hard onto him, and she could feel him
hardening through his jeans. She ground into him, pushing against his tongue
with hers, twisting her fingers into his hair.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped into her mouth. He circled his arms
around her, squeezing her tightly as he rubbed into her. “Lila,” he moaned. His
hands found their way up her shirt, working his fingertips into her shoulder
blades, dragging them down her spine. He slid a hand past the waist of her
pants, into her panties, and gripped her ass. Lila let her hands fall between
them into Barrett’s lap, finding his stiff cock and rubbing it through the
thick fabric. He growled a little and let his head rest in the crook of her
neck, rising to her touch, lifting his hips to get more from her. With his free
hand he smacked her ass lightly, biting her bottom lip and then filling her
mouth with his tongue. “I want to fuck you, right here, right now, so badly.”

Something inside her exploded at the words, and she felt
ravenous, parched, desperate. “I want you to,” she said breathlessly, palming
him harder through his jeans.

He groaned into her neck. “Don’t have a condom,” he managed
to stutter. Lila  left his crotch to pull her crop top over her head, exposing
her black lace bra.

“I’m on the pill,” she gasped, unbuttoning his pants.
“Anything I should know about?” she asked as she started to unzip them. Barrett
pulled back slightly to look at her.

“No, but—are you sure you want to do that?” he asked,
staring into her eyes.

“I’m fucking sure, Barrett, as long as you know and you’re
being honest with me,” she stared back at him.

“I get tested regularly, and I’m being honest with you
here.” He kept watching her.

“Then fuck me.”  She slipped her hand beneath his jeans and
stroked him through his cotton underwear, feeling the length of him. He was
big, full, and rock hard. She pulled the waistband of his Hanes down and
circled a thumb over the tip of his cock. He grunted loudly and found her mouth
again, ravishing it. He started to lean her back, kissing down her neck to her
chest, where he pulled her bra back with his teeth and found a nipple. She
gasped as he licked and sucked, running her hands through his hair as her back
met the wood. He unhooked her bra and pulled it off her, dropping it to the
floor. Lila thought for a moment that maybe they should be worried about
someone coming in—but Barrett sat up and ripped his shirt over his head, and at
the sight of his chiseled, Adonis-like body, she quickly forgot any worries she
had.

He unbuttoned her pants and yanked them down her legs,
standing up to get them over her feet and toss them to the side. He dropped his
own pants and underwear and stepped out of them, and Lila stared at him, full
and hard, his cock as perfectly sculpted as the rest of him. Before she could
bask for too long, he grabbed her panties and pulled them off, dipping his
mouth to lick her drenched pussy once before he sat back down on the bench,
drawing her on top of him again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held his cock
with one hand, positioning its head at her entrance and lowering her onto him
slowly. At the contact, Lila simpered and moaned. She wanted all of him, all at
once, as much as she could take. She ground down, pushing him deep inside her.
They both cried out softly, breaths hot and mixing, bodies pressing together,
trying to melt into one. Barrett bucked up to meet her and Lila bore down, both
of them fervently grinding into each other. His hands sank into her flesh,
pulling her down like he needed it, like he could mold her flat against him,
nothing more than clay. She tasted the back corners of his mouth, tongues battling,
drinking from him like a puddle in the desert.

Their speed picked up, both of them too hot for each other
to pace themselves, though Barrett was clearly trying. His brow was furrowed,
jaw clenched, making a conscious effort to control himself. Lila wanted to
swallow him whole. She pushed him back flat against the bench, biting both of
his nipples quickly and sharply as she sat back up and rode him hard. Her back
arched and her tits bounced as he, moaning loudly and lapping her up with his
eyes, pounded up into her.

“Fuck, Lila,” he groaned, bringing his hands up to her
breasts, cupping them hard and tweaking her nipples with his fingers. She
gasped and pressed her hands into his abs, working herself harder down onto
him, grinding herself into exquisite pleasure. His hands left her breasts and
one cupped her behind the neck and brought her forward, flat onto him, the
other hand smacking against her ass and staying there for leverage, forcing her
into faster thrusts. He lifted his hips off the bench and pounded into her,
unable to hold back any longer. She whimpered loudly, her pitch rising higher
and higher as the tension in her body did. The bench was digging into her
thighs, but she couldn’t feel anything besides the hot lava build-up bubbling
inside her. Barrett was moaning in time with his thrusts, and his face, twisted
in sublime pleasure, began to kick Lila over the edge.

“Barrett,” she cried. “Oh, fuck, Barrett, oh my fucking
god.” He smashed her mouth into his, pummeling her tongue like her pussy, and
she felt herself peaking, toes curling, eyes rolling. “I’m coming,” she
groaned. He picked up his speed and force, fucking her hard, pushing her over
the edge. As her body started to rock with orgasm, he let himself go, a moan
pushing its way out of his mouth as he shuddered with her. They came together,
rocking against each other, plummeting from the same dizzying height.

All was still in the aftermath, and the only sound was the
two of them panting loudly. Slowly, the room came back into focus for Lila,
details faded back in from white. They were sweaty and pressed together, chests
heaving, bodies spent. Barrett’s big hand found her hair, stroking her head
gently as she rested it on his chest. Lila traced lazy circles on his slick
pectoral, unable to keep from touching him, from exploring his beautiful body.
Her body grew more aware of the present: thighs bruising against the hard
wooden bench, Barrett performing a balancing act of laying flat on it and
holding them both straight. They should move, she knew, but Barrett was still
inside her, and she didn’t want to give that up just yet.

At that moment, Barrett smacked her ass. “All right, up,
before someone finds us.” He started to sit up, so Lila did, too, whether she
wanted to or not. When they were both upright, Barrett kissed her again—this
time somewhat unfeelingly—and lifted her off his lap. He stood up, stretching
his arms and back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “That was great,” he
said, grabbing a small hand towel from his locker and patting his face dry. He
held it out to her.

“Yeah, it was,” Lila felt a little confused again. Just like
last time, she thought she and Barrett had just had a pretty transcendent
experience—and now that it was over, Barrett seemed completely removed. “You going
to tell me money’s on the dresser and leave me to find my own way home?” She
attempted a joking tone, but she wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

Barrett gave a half-hearted laugh. “No, I’m not going to do
that.” He started to pick up his clothes off the floor, so Lila did the same.
She was trying not to think it, but she felt hurt. She didn’t expect him to lay
there and say I love you afterwards, but this shift in tone hit her harder than
she thought it would. She distracted herself by going for her own clothes. The
silence was unbearable as they both got dressed.

Barrett was ready before she was, putting his things in his
locker and shutting it, snapping the padlock back into place. He sat on the
bench while she put her shoes back on. He seemed to want to say something, but
couldn’t bring himself to do it. He looked at the floor.

“What’s going on?” Lila finally asked, unable to take it
anymore.

“Nothing,” he said, too quickly. Her speaking seemed to have
jolted him back into the affectedly casual manner he’d had before, and he stood
up again. “Ready to go?” He headed for the door.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Lila followed him. They said goodbye to
Bruce at the door, who was still watching Lila suspiciously, but she didn’t
care now. She didn’t want to be here anymore, didn’t want to be around Barrett
anymore. She wanted to be at home, in her own bed, instead of feeling awkward
and even ashamed in the parking lot of this shooting range. They got to the
motorcycle and Barrett got on. Lila hesitated.

“What, Lila, what is it?” he said with an exasperated sigh,
not looking at her.

“Oh, gee, Barrett, nothing, everything is normal.” She
didn’t get on the bike yet.

“Don’t do this, come on,” he said, still talking to the gas
tank.

“Do
what
?” she asked dangerously.

“God, girls always do this.” He shook his head.

“Give me a fucking break, Barrett,
girls always do this
.
All we did was have sex. It’s not a big deal. I’m not looking for a marriage
proposal here, but I’d like it if you treated me like a fucking human being
right now.” She crossed her arms and watched him.

“I am treating you like a human being. You’re treating me
like a criminal for not, I don’t know, showering you with rose petals and
composing love poems immediately after.”

“I’m not treating you like a criminal, Barrett. I’m treating
you like a psychopath.” She took a gamble, calling back to their standard joke,
trying to reach him through whatever weird coping mechanism he was pulling
right now. His eyes finally flashed up to her, his jaw clenched, and again the
anger she’d seen once or twice sparked in his face for a moment. But Lila held
his gaze, smirking slightly, trying to show him it was okay and—it worked.
Barrett cracked a smile, then laughed, relieved.

“You’re a real handful, you know that?” he asked, holding
her gaze for a moment. Then, good-naturedly, “Now get the fuck on my bike and
I’ll take you home.” She picked up the helmet and slid it on, immersing herself
in Barrett’s scent again, and hopped on behind him. She wrapped her arms around
his waist, pulling him close. It was hard to believe that not ten minutes ago,
they’d been in the throes of passion, and now it seemed like it’d never
happened. Barrett was a difficult case, Lila realized, and she was going to
have handle him accordingly or he’d ditch her completely.