Addicted Ch. 01

Smoke hung heavy in the air and he could feel the thumping bass through the soles of his boots as he made his way slowly through the random party house. He couldn't remember if it had been Ricky or Jasmine or Franco who invited him or if anyone even had. All he knew was that he had the supply and the demand was here.

Slapping palms with several people he passed, Caleb wended his way through to the kitchen, the exchanges so quick and effortless it was almost impossible to see the trade. His pockets bulged with cash.

Someone passed him a red plastic Solo cup.

"Hey, sugar," a female voice cooed in his ear.

Arms slithered around his waist from behind, hot breath fanning against his neck. He didn't need the cloying scent of vanilla to know who was clinging to him. The titillating press of her tits was enough of a giveaway.

"Something I can do for you, Sarah?"

Pouting lips came into view as Sarah twisted around his body, putting plenty of shimmy and shake to things. "I think the question should be: is there something I can do for you?" she purred.

"Not anymore."

There was a time, not long ago, when just the suggestion of her puckered lips would have had him crashing into a semi-private corner to ravage her. But that was one ex-best friend and one too many stolen snorts of coke ago.

"Don't be like that, Caleb. There's no reason we can't mix business with pleasure."

"The business supersedes the pleasure." He leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I don't fuck with fiends, Sarah. You knew that way before your deviated septum."

In his defense -- or maybe hers -- Sarah had never known how Caleb made all his money. The part-time gig at the factory didn't account for the nearly limitless stacks of cash he had at his disposal. She ended up getting a taste of what Nico had to offer one night when Caleb was working and it took way too long for him to realize that she had become just another hopeless addict.

One who would lie, cheat and steal her way to her next fix.

Sighing, he extricated himself from her clutches and stood staring down at her. "Go find Nico, Sarah. I'm sure he has what you want."

He left before she could make an even bigger fool of herself.

The kitchen was sparsely furnished -- anything breakable and even remotely valuable had been removed prior to the party starting. Whoever was hosting had obviously learned their lesson from every previous party. If it wasn't a window getting smashed out, it was framed pictures and priceless knick knacks getting busted.

It was quieter here, less populated. He could breathe a little easier.

Franco stood in the corner by the table-for-two, chewing at the rim of his plastic cup and Facebook open on his phone about three inches from his face. It took him a minute to notice Caleb.

"Oh, hey, dude," he said, his eyes finally focusing.

They pounded knuckles.

"Where's Raul?" Caleb asked.

Franco's eyes flickered. "Uh..."

"Don't bullshit me," he warned. "That little punk has owed me for three weeks now. I'm done playing."

It wasn't even that it was a huge amount Raul owed. But the minute word got around that one person -- a friend's brother at that -- was stiffing him, his reputation was shot. He was going to have to make an example of the kid and that seriously pissed him off because he liked him.

Franco sighed. "He's in one of the bedrooms."

Nodding, Caleb found the hallway that led to the back of the house. Luck was on his side tonight. The first door he opened revealed Raul dry humping the shit out of some chick on an unmade, twin size bed.

Two steps and Caleb had Raul by the scruff of his neck, hauling him off the girl and slamming him against the wall. Her startled scream barely even registered. As she scrambled off the bed and fled, yanking her shirt over her bare tits, Caleb slammed Raul against the wall again for emphasis.

"What the fuck, man?" Raul shouted.

"I think you know what this is about, Raul," he said calmly, turning him and anchoring his forearm against his throat. He only applied slight pressure but Raul's face started getting red quick and his eyes bugged out.

He gurgled something in reply.

Caleb let up a little.

"I'll have it... Friday," Raul repeated, panting.

Caleb considered. "Make it Thursday."

"But I don't get paid til—"

Before Raul could even blink, Caleb's fist was cracking the plaster near his left ear. Raul quaked a little in his Air Jordans. Blood and dust sprinkled onto his shoulder.

"Wednesday, Raul," Caleb said.

With fresh fear instilled in him, Caleb sent him stumbling out of the room. His knuckles throbbed like a bitch but he waited until Raul was out of sight before going across the hall to the bathroom and cranking the cold faucet on.

"So, do you pick fights with walls often?"

He paused, his shoulders tensing imperceptibly. "Only when they get in my way," he said mildly.

Soft, husky laughter echoed out of the bathtub.

Turning, he saw past the partially closed shower curtain to a young woman balancing precariously on the rim of the tub. Meeting his eyes, she let her hip rest against the tiled wall, her elbow on the small window ledge. He'd never seen eyes so intensely green before.

He realized from her vantage point, she had a direct line of sight into the bedroom across the hall.

Cocking a brow, she offered him a plastic cup. He wondered where the hell he'd lost his at as he accepted it, taking a cautious sip, surprised to taste only Pepsi.

"You didn't roofie me, did you?" he asked.

"Probably should have asked that before you drank. Guess we'll find out in a few minutes." She grinned, showing off a set of deep dimples, and took a drag off a cigarette. He was relieved to see it was just a cigarette. "Let me know if you start experiencing any dizziness."

He leaned against the sink. "What's your name?"

"Lina."

"I haven't seen you around before."

Again with the eyebrow. "I'm just visiting, stranger," she said pointedly.

He smirked. "I'm Caleb."

Stepping carefully around the rim of the tub, she hopped down to the floor, her scuffed Converse making slight impressions in the thick bath mat. She flicked her Marlboro into the toilet where it fizzled out and slid her hands into the ass pockets of her aquamarine shorts. Her loose white top suddenly stretched tight over her generous endowments.

Standing so close to her now, Caleb saw flecks of gold mingled with the green in her eyes, her long as hell eyelashes creating a breeze every time she blinked.

Tension coiled in him. There wasn't much space at all separating them and the heat radiating off her body was causing a slow burn in him. He let his gaze wander from her skinny ankles (a small tattooed heart just barely visible), up her shapely calves and thighs (tanned and smooth), lingering a little at the hem of her shorts where the tip of her pocket linings were peeking out (a cute skull pattern), pausing even longer on her chest (nipples hard and pushing insistently against her bra).

Finally, he met her eyes again, and saw she'd just done her own slow perusal of him.

Her teeth sank briefly into her full bottom lip before a slow smile curved upward. "Starting to feel dizzy yet?" she murmured.

Narrowing his eyes, Caleb glanced briefly out into the hallway, considering. It would be easy to let things south of his brain rule his decisions but he wasn't stupid and he didn't take unnecessary chances. And yet...

He looked back at her, at the lust glazing her eyes, knowing his own were reflecting the same.

"Let's get out of here."

***

Caleb didn't pause to acknowledge what a royal fuck-up this was.

Instead, his fingers laced with Lina's, they walked out of the party without uttering another word.

As they passed through the living room, his eyes briefly met Sarah's, and he felt a twinge of guilt he squashed in the next instant. He had no reason to feel guilty. Especially seeing as she was staring over Nico's shoulder as his hand braced against the wall near her head, leaning in close as they whispered sweet nothings to each other.

They walked out into the warm summer night and down the block a ways to his car. She skidded to a stop.

"This is the Supernatural car," she said.

He laughed. "Not quite. This one's a '68."

It was also cherry red, a giant bull's-eye for cops, but he couldn't bring himself to be concerned about that.

"My dad and I restored her when I was growing up."

Her fingers gently trailed across the hood of the Impala, her gaze following their desultory path before flicking up to meet his. "I'm trying to reconcile the image of the guy who's sentimental enough to keep up with the maintenance on a classic car with the one of the guy who... beats up walls."

He caught the pause and stilled. "I'm not a nice guy."

"I don't think you're a bad one either."

Faintly, they could still hear the music pulsing, the occasional drunken laugh. But the space between the two of them was charged and silent. Caleb couldn't look away from her eyes.

A smile tilted the corners of her mouth. "Are you gonna kiss me or not?"

A spark ignited and somehow he had her against the driver's side door, one hand tangled in the silky black strands of her hair, one on her hip as his lips came down on hers. She moaned, parting her lips under the coaxing of his, tongues tangling. It was wet, sloppy and eager, and it sent an electric charge sizzling straight to his straining cock.

Her fingers blazed a trail under his shirt, playing at the dips and planes of his abs, tickling at the waistband of his jeans. Another charge shivered through his body. A haze settled over his brain. Sliding his hand from her hip to the back of her thigh, he hiked her leg up, curving it around his waist, and let out a groan as his cock sank into the softness between her legs.

He needed to ditch their clothes. Now.

Tearing away from her lips, he nibbled kisses down her neck and across her rapidly fluttering pulse, tongue swirling to soothe the little nips, her breathy moans urging him on and firing his blood. He dipped into the hollow of her throat and her head tipped back, eyes closed tight, lips parted and still glistening from their kisses.

Finally, Caleb's lips found the creamy swell of her breasts, and he suckled his way across, tattooing a line of faint strawberry marks. Releasing her leg, he sank into a crouch, shoving her shirt up and letting his mouth continue its exploration. He tasted the skin around her navel, flicking the dangling charm of her belly button ring, and nibbled at her hip bone.

Her hands had been kneading at his shoulders but now her fingers fisted in his hair. "Caleb," she panted.

He paused, his forehead resting against her stomach. He was eye level with the button of her shorts.

Fucking clothes, man.

"We should probably... find somewhere... a little more... private," she continued, breathless.

She was right. He knew she was right. And yet all he could think about doing was ripping off those damn aquamarine shorts and nailing her right on the hood of his car.

Some of the fog cleared from his brain. Enough that he was able to stand without doing exactly that. His engorged cock strained even more against his zipper and he leaned into her, seeing the gratifying widening of her eyes.

"Your chariot awaits," he rasped.

He honestly couldn't remember the drive to his apartment. Lina curled against his side, licking at his pulse, her fingers working the zipper of his jeans and delving inside to curl around his cock. When her palm swept up and down, up and down, her thumb rubbing against the mushroom head, his eyes rolled back and he nearly ran a red light.

They were barely parked when their lips were fusing together again. Stumbling out of the car, they tripped up the exterior stairs to his door, laughter at their clumsiness turning into moans when a hand stroked just right. With one arm he held her close, with the other he inserted the key into the deadbolt, and to expedite things he simply lifted her and carried her in.

Back in his bedroom, he sank with her onto the king size mattress.

They divested each other of their clothing quickly, not a careful unwrapping but like a couple of kids on Christmas morning ripping away to see what was underneath. There would be time to savor later. Right now, need was coursing through their veins, nerve endings tingling, blood rushing.

Caleb rolled on a condom and placed the tip of his cock against her weeping entrance. He rocked his hips forward, hearing her breath hitch, feeling a shiver skitter down his spine, and slammed balls deep into her scorching tightness.

"Oh, God," she groaned, back arching, head thrown back.

Caleb bit out a curse, muscles straining as he fought the urge not to blow shit right then and there. Gritting his teeth, her inner walls clenching him in a silken fist, he planted a hand above her shoulder and gave a few shallow thrusts. Her muscles contracted, deliciously drawing him back in. A blissed out moan escaped from his throat.

Dipping his head, he suckled a pebbled nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping, tongue flicking, drawing a fresh rush of liquid warmth over his cock. He set a fast rhythm, hips pistoning. Lina met him thrust for thrust. Her nails scored down his back and her head thrashed back and forth as her moans reached a crescendo.

"I'm coming," she cried, going rigid in his arms. Her sheath spasmed around him and it set off his own orgasm.

Thrusting once, twice, Caleb felt it build and build until finally he simply exploded. A hoarse shout burst out of him.

Collapsing beside her, their panting breaths were the only sounds in the room for a long minute.

"I think I can get addicted to you," Lina finally mumbled.