He withdrew his hand and unzipped his jeans, pulling them and his underwear onto his thighs. He sprang free, and with a slick of lube in his palm he wrapped his fingers around himself. His fingers slid along the flesh of his shaft, reminding him of Chrissy’s hands on his cock. Back and forth he pulled, and allowed himself to descend into the fantasy of Chrissy touching him. His mind conjured an image of her splaying her hands against his broad chest and looking at him like he was a dessert she was dying to devour. Saks palmed the head of his cock, pulling on it, and then glided his hand in downward then upward strokes, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his body.
In his mind, Chrissy took his rod into her mouth. Her lips stretched into a dusky pink “o” around him, and her tongue played with the underside of his cock. He looked down on her as Chrissy worked his cock in and out of her tender mouth. He moaned, remembering her blonde hair flashing on her shoulders and her caramel eyes shining, because at this moment he was her utter slave.
He groaned at the rolling buildup of his release. Saks put both hands on his shaft, now encasing it with heat and the slickness of the lube. God, he wanted her. He wanted her trembling body beneath him, the sizzle of sliding into her, the look of raw pleasure on her face as he thrust hard and wild into her. He wanted to watch how her mouth opened and let out lengthy moans as she climbed to her peak, calling for him to take her harder, faster, and the thrashing of her head when she came. He rammed into her, making her his, searing her from the inside with his want and desire, marking her with the claim of his heart.
His cock throbbed in his hand and Saks found himself reaching the precipice. The woman was gorgeous, and with his eyes closed he could nearly see her looking over her shoulder as he took her from behind and—
Saks’ phone rang.
“Fuck!”
He should have turned the damned thing off. The phone stopped, and he relaxed. Then it started up again.
Saks tried a few more strokes, but his enthusiasm had waned. If he’d come to the point of no return it would have been a different story.
He reached for the phone on his nightstand as he cursed.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Saks,” Oakie greeted, “I need you to do me a favor.”
“What?” he said. His voice was as rough as a scrubbing pad. His erection withered, but Oakie’s voice was a far cry from Chrissy’s.
“Holy good night. Who forgot to put the whiskey in your coffee?” Oakie rumbled.
“I was sleeping.”
“Must be nice. Sorry. I need you to go to the hospital and pick up Hawk. I’m busy, and no one else is available.”
“Isn’t it kinda late in the day to release him?” Saks asked.
“Yeah. Like I said, I’ve been busy. He’s been waiting a few hours.”
Damn. If Oakie had called earlier he’d have been able to pick him up instead of going to the Red Bull.
Beer spilled on the floor, Saks, he told himself. “Sure. Not a problem.”
“Great. He’ll be waiting for you.”
He damn well better be. “Later.” He clicked off the call, thoroughly exasperated with the interruption. But, then again, it just was unhealthy to ruminate over Chrissy. He had to get the woman out of his mind, once and for all.
He cleaned up, climbed into his beater car, and headed toward Hartford to pick up Hawk. Perhaps he could score a pizza while there. There were great places on Franklin Street, and he hadn’t been in some time.
Yeah, he’d been eating healthy.
Beer, burgers, wings, and pizza had been his staples living at the clubhouse, since he couldn’t cook and otherwise had no one to look after him. It sucked, and was far from what he expected for his life right now. For a guy used to living hard and fast, he had turned into a late-bloomer.
“Fuck,” he snapped as he drove the car past the reservoir where he’d picked up his speeding ticket nearly two months before. Defending against that, plus the co-pay on his hospital bills, set him back in the savings department. That bend reminded him of how annoying his life had become.
Was it the ache in his shoulder, or the restlessness of his cock that bothered him? Or was it the hole in his heart left by one golden-haired goddess who didn’t have to use a firearm to shoot?
He pulled into the parking lot and found a space close to the entrance.
Saks asked at the desk where Hawk’s room was. Given he’d been in the hospital for a month, it had been unfortunate that Saks didn’t know which room to go to, but he’d just done what he’d been told. He’d stayed away.
Finding the elevator, he got on and tucked his hands into his pockets as the doors began to close.
“Hold the elevator!”