Hey friends and readers. It's that time again. I'm recovering from some pretty major oral surgery (which is way worse than any other kind, IMO) so the conclusion to this week's flash fiction is fully a homage to the food I *can't* eat, and the food I've largely been living on for a week. How's that for some vague? At any rate, I hope you enjoy the second part of This I Know.
* * * *
This I Know Part 2; by Tucker
McCallahan:
The heavenly scent of genuine Mexican
food rolled out the door as it opened. Angel strutted out dressed in jeans and
a T-shirt. He looked as good as he smelled. He saw me and did the
head-tilt-chin-lift thing that passed as a greeting, but then his lips curved
up into a sexy smile.
"Hey china."
"My name's Anthony."
He laughed.
"I like china better. My little brat."
I ducked my head as a blush stained my
cheeks. This guy drove me crazy. He started walking down the alley behind
Harvey's at a brisk pace. I had to jog to catch up to him.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Gonna take you to TJ's and feed
you." His dark eyes danced as he glanced in my direction. "Less you
want me to call you flaco instead of china."
"I don't speak Spanish."
"Mexican." His spine
straightened and that chin came up again. "I'm Mexican."
"I'm a mutt. Melting pot
American."
"Maybe you got some Mexican in
you."
"I don't think so," I said.
"You want some?" he asked with
a throaty little purr. I blushed–again–but met his eyes this time.
"Definitely."
We walked the four blocks to Tijuana,
also known as TJ's, in silence. Angel's presence at my side keyed me up like
nothing else had in longer than I could remember. I was hyper-aware of him, of
his every movement and expression. I wanted his arm around me, or my fingers
entwined with his. It was all totally out of character for me. I was anxious
and aroused at the same time, my heart thudding and lurching as we got closer
to the restaurant.
As far as I could tell, TJ's was closed
for the night. Not surprising since it was after 2AM. The entire building was
dark and closed up. I frowned, unsure of where to go. Angel jerked his head to
the side, and we headed around to the back of the place. He produced a heavy
key ring from his pocket and unlocked the back door. He opened the door and
held it for me before following me inside. With an ease that could only come
from being fully familiar with the building, he reached a hand into the
darkness and flipped a few switches.
Light flooded the commercial kitchen and
left me slightly dazzled. The kitchen looked like all it was missing was Gordon
Ramsey front and center, barking orders. Every surface inside the massive space
gleamed.
"You look surprised."
"It's huge."
Those luscious lips curved up for me
again as he held my gaze with his. "Yes." His smile transformed into
a smirk. "It's huge."
I went up in flames on the spot.
"You have to stop doing that."
"I like watching you turn pink."
He strolled over to one of the industrial refrigerators and opened it, peering
inside. "You still hungry?"
"What I want isn't in that
frig."
"Don't be so sure." He
vanished into the depths of the tremendous machine and reemerged with several
covered containers. "You like spicy, yeah?"
"Love it."
Settling the containers into the crook
of one arm, he extended his free hand to me. A zing sailed from my chest down
to my balls as I curled my fingers around his. He led me through the kitchen
into the dining room.
Chairs were turned up on wooden tables
that had probably been all the rage in the 60's. The wooden floors and pillars
gleamed with high-gloss polish. The lush aroma of live plants filled the air,
and in my mind I imagined a Aztec temple scene, exotic blooms side by side with
ferns and banana trees. Without all the lights on I had no idea where the scent
actually came from, and I didn't really care. My fantasy was no doubt better
than reality.
Angel handed me the containers and
divested a large table of its chairs, righting them and setting them on the
floor. I started to open the top container and he stopped me, taking the
covered dishes from my hands and setting them on the table. His dark eyes
smoldered.
"Strip."
"Here?"
"What, you want the men's room
instead?"
"No."
"So strip."
My fingers went to the collar of my
shirt, fumbling with the slick little buttons. At the rustle of cloth, my eyes
flicked up. Angel's t-shirt fell to the floor. His skin was the same dark honey
color of the polished wood and gleamed just as brightly. I wanted to see more
of him so badly I wasn't sure whose belt to reach for: his or mine. He made the
decision for me by tugging my belt free and opening my pants with a few quick
jerks.
Clothes flew in a frenzy, neither of us
paying any attention to what landed where. Angel's lips hit my chest, his hot
mouth closing around my collarbone and sucking as cool air swirled up over my
exposed flesh. I yanked at his tight jeans. He chuckled and I shivered, chill
bumps racing ahead of his breath. My hands connected–finally!–with his skin
and we came together in a clash of heat that sent my eyeballs rolling back into
my skull.
Nothing that had happened in the Harvey
Wallbanger men's room excited me even half as much as Angel. His mouth moved
like a machine, chewing and sucking along my chest and up my neck. I trembled
against him, sweaty and aroused, hands gripping and sliding over his perfect
ass. His shoulders bunched and bulged as he lifted me off the floor and plunked
my ass down on the table. My thighs fell apart, eager to cradle his body against mine. He was like some dark god, all burning eyes, black hair, and
eager hands.
He laid me flat on the table and I
moaned, back arching to keep our flesh pressed together. I heard the telltale
tear of a condom wrapper and shuddered. My hips tilted up, but the pressure and
slick fulfillment I needed were not forthcoming. I opened my eyes and found him
staring down at me. He looked as hungry as I felt.
One of his hands reached above me. Just
as my lips parted to ask what he was doing, the smooth tip of the condom nudged
me. I tried not to squirm and failed. His low chuckle caressed my ears like
velvet.
"So eager."
"Need you." That breathy voice
couldn't possibly belong to me.
"Open your eyes, china."
I obeyed, though I didn't remember closing them. Angel hovered over me, his mouth curved into a sensual smile. A
long, finely tapered, green chili pepper dangled from his fingers. My heart skipped
a beat.
Angel rested the tip of the pepper on
his full lower lip long enough for me to admire the contrast between red and
green, and then slowly sank his teeth into it. My pulse hammered as he chewed.
The scent of fresh jalapeno saturated the air. He bent his head and wrapped his
lips around my left nip.
The oil from the fresh pepper in his mouth hit my
skin like lava.
I hissed, hands shooting into his hair.
His mouth came away exactly long enough for him to eat the rest of the pepper. Nip burning and eyes wide, I watched, fingers
twisted in his hair as he chewed. The tip of the condom pressed against me.
Then Angel lunged, and liquid fire rained across my chest as he thrust inside me.
The sex was like a detonation. Flames licked along my flesh in the wake of his tongue. Heat
poured over me as his mouth landed on mine, his lips burning me with
every kiss. Sweat rolled down my skin and tears leaked from my eyes as he fucked me hard and deep. My arousal built so fast and hot I had no control over
it. My orgasm was a splatter of cool wetness, consumed by the inferno of
Angel's body.
He fucked me until I gyrated on the
table, a writhing mass of burning skin. Inarticulate sobs slipped from between
my clenched teeth and were lost in the noise of the table pounding the floor
and Angel's roar as he came.
My head spun. I twitched and jerked uncontrollably. As good as the orgasm was, the relentless burning was
getting to be too much. I was frantic for relief and moaned in agony.
The splash of cold shocked me. My whole
body jolted. Angel's laughter sent tingles racing along my skin. I blinked
in surprise as more cold liquid drenched me.
Milk. He was pouring milk all over us.
I stared in utter astonishment as
streams of white liquid ran all over me, puddling between our bodies, on the
table, and dripping onto the floor.
"Open," Angel commanded.
I blinked again, fluttering my eyelashes to
see through the huge mess.
"Your mouth, china," he explained patiently. "Open your mouth."
Like an idiot, I opened my mouth, and he
poured a thin stream of milk into it. I choked, coughed, and spit half
of it out before managing to swallow. I rose up on my elbows and surveyed the
damage. I'd had messy sex before, but this was a definite record.
Angel stood at the foot of the table, a
lazy smile on his gorgeous face, body covered with sweat and milk. He backed up
and helped me to climb off the table.
"How much trouble will you get in for this mess?"
"Eh. Not much." Angel
shrugged. "My cousin owns the place."
I glanced around and couldn't see my
clothes. My stomach growled loudly. Angel laughed.
"Guess I should feed you for
real."
"If you feed me, you might have to
keep me."
Angel wrapped his t-shirt around his
neck and held out his hand.
"This I know."
* * * *
Once again, thanks so much for reading! Comments are, as always, craved and appreciated.
Be Sure To Check Out The Other Stories:
Follow all your favorites and read the first 100 words on the group’s website:
