Luca

Feel Like Makin’ Love

 

There are people everywhere. Too many eyes. I’ll have to lay low until the evening before I snag us a different car. Defeated, I go on a hunt for Frannie. She gets herself into too many shenanigans if left alone unsupervised for very long. And with Chandler as a coconspirator, who the hell knows what sort of shit they’ll get into. That dog eggs her on.

A commotion of people singing catches my attention. Bunch of fucking hippies standing in a circle.

“Baby, when I think about you, I think about loveeeee—”

“Feel like makin’ loveeeeeeee!”

Oh fuck.

I recognize one of those voices louder than the others. Pushing past several people, I breach the crowded circle and find my two crazies in the middle. Of course they are.

Hell no.

Frannie’s riding on the back of some stoner with dreads. What the actual fuck. They’re singing and she keeps yelling out, “This ride is slow!” Chandler is being held by some tall-ass lady with huge tits and long black hair, and is being cuddled like he’s an infant.

Fifteen minutes.

I left them for fifteen minutes.

That’s all it took for Frannie to join a cult of Rastafarians—one of whom she’s riding like a fucking horse—and for Chandler to get adopted by Cher.

“Dog,” I call out to Bingman. “Tell Cher you already have a mom.”

Chandler yaps at me but makes no move to get out of her arms.

“Lucaaaaa,” Frannie calls out when she sees me. “This ride is amazzzzing! You totally should try the brownies!”

The dog yaps again.

Oh, Jesus.

“Ride’s over,” I growl, pulling her from the stoner’s back and to her feet.

She swivels and laces her arms around my neck. Her eyes are bloodshot and she’s grinning. The girl’s lucky she’s so fucking pretty. Gets her out of a lot of trouble.

“What’d you do?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her pouty lips, claiming her for all the tokers with wandering eyes to see.

“Shared a treat with my good buddy Theo,” she says with hooded eyes. “He makes bitchin’ brownies.”

My brows hike. “You said bitchin’.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You so did, Frannie. You cursed.”

Her mouth pops open. “I most certainly did n—oh my God! I’m a derelict now! Don’t tell Mabel!”

I slide my palms to her ass and squeeze. “You could convince me not to.”

“How?” she asks, her eyes growing wide with innocence.

“We’re going skinny-dipping!” the piggie-back stoner hollers, ripping off his shirt as he runs by.

“Oooh!” Frannie says with a silly smile. “Are we gonna do it?”

“You want to get naked and go swimming? With all those people? And Chandler too?”

Chandler growls. He’s quite happy with Cher.

“Just us,” Frannie purrs. “Unless you’re afraid of Theo seeing your pecker.”

“My pecker is a fine looking pecker. Not ashamed.”

“I haven’t seen many to compare it to.”

“You’re not missing much,” I tell her and then wave at a guy with a beer gut hanging over his very unimpressive dick.

“Holy guacamole,” she squeaks out. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Look at that one,” I point out as some redheaded guy runs by, his cock hidden in a bush of red pubes.

“Gasps audibly.”

“Did you just say gasps audib—”

“Oh my God, Luca! Your pecker totally wins this whole beach!”

I laugh as I release her and peel off my shirt. “I’m pretty sure your tits will win too.” I nod over at old big boobs Cher and Sonny-Bing. “See, you’re already winning.”

“We’re really going to do this?” she asks, wickedness gleaming in her normally sweet stare.

“I’m in.” I shrug as I drop my pants and kick out of my shoes. “Question is, are you?”

She bites on her bottom lip when I lose my boxers too. “I’m soooo in, Big Winner.”

“Big, huh?”

She starts stripping, earning several lingering stares. Too bad, fuckers, she’s mine. “The biggest.”

I try not to preen like a fucking chick. “Damn right.”

Once we’re both naked, I toss her over my shoulder and slap her ass. She squeals, kicking, but soon starts giggling. I wade out into the cold-ass water and then dip us under.

“Cold! Oh my God!” she shrieks when we surface. “Brat!”

I maneuver her until she has her legs wrapped around my waist and her tits are smashed against my chest. Our lips don’t hesitate. We crash together with a sigh and a groan. It’s easy to get lost in this woman. Days ago, I had no idea how miserable my life was. Until her. Now, I realize I was missing light and life and laughter.

“Found a new ride, cowgirl?” Theo asks as he swims over to us.

She grins, nodding. “He’s my man.”

I like the sound of that.

“Right on,” Theo says. “How long you two been married?”

“We’re not—”

“Remember the con,” she whispers loudly.

Theo laughs.

“Er, she’s my wife. Been married for four years.” More like wild for her for four days. Close enough.

“We got married on a ranch in Texas,” she brags. “On horses.”

“Horses, huh?” Theo snorts. “Like on one horse or did you each have one?”

“One named Black Beauty. We rode off into the sunset too. Ain’t that right, honey-boo-thang?” she asks me with a horrible southern twang. “I wore a frilly white dress and a straw hat. You wore your daddy’s suit.”

I squeeze her naked ass under the water. “Then I led our horse to a small barn where I took your virginity on a bale of hay.”

“That was the first time I saw Big Winner.”

I snort but square my shoulders. If you’re going to be the big winner at something, it may as well be the size of your dick.

“Big Winner as in that’s what you call his schlong?” Theo cracks up, nearly drowning himself.

I’m tempted to dunk him under the water just so he’ll wash his dirty dreads.

“What do you call yours?” she challenges back.

“Lil’ smokie.” He grins and winks at us. “’Cause it be lookin’ like a snack.”

“I don’t think that’s—” I start but get cut off by Frannie hollering, “Do you ever dress it up with barbecue sauce?”

“Fuck,” Theo groans. “I’ve got the munchies. Put this convo on pause, Big Winner and little cowgirl. I’m gonna throw some brats on the fire and grab us a bag of Doritos.”

He swims away and I shake my head at her.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“I’m thinking how fucking adorable you are.” I smirk. “You’d look cuter on my dick.”

Her cheeks blaze crimson. “You’re scandalous…”

My brows lift. “I think I want to hear this but.”

“But,” she whispers, looking over my shoulder. “I like it.”

I rub against her pussy in the water. “I like you.”

“Mmm.” She nips at my ear. “You taste yummy.”

“You’re so fried.”

“I bet you’d taste good with barbeque sauce.”

“And you have the munchies.”

“I read about this in a book once—”

“You’re not putting barbeque sauce on my dick, Frannie.”

She fucking pouts and my dick jolts. “Ketchup?”

“W-What? No.”

“Party pooper.”

I humor her. “What do you think you’re going to do with my ketchup dick?”

“Lick it.”

“And?”

“Gobble it down.”

And boner officially gone.

“Jesus, babe, way to kill the mood.”

“Not with my teeth, silly. Down my throat. Like in Bea’s book—”

“That was hot until you brought in the old people.”

“Some people are into it.”

Yap! Yap!

Cher swims out with Chandler tucked into the top of her swimsuit. Damn dog nestled between her big tits like he’s a lil’ smokie himself.

“Bingboy is totally into old people,” I mutter. “Just look at our boy. Kinky fucker all grown up.”

Frannie giggles. “Aren’t you a naughty boy?”

Chandler yaps and grins his doggie smile at us.

“Precious likes Cheetos,” Cher tells us. “Can I have him?”

“No!” Frannie and I both bark out. Then, Frannie coos at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Bing. I’ll get you lots of Cheetos for your munchies.”

He yaps happily.

My phone rings from my pile of clothes, Billie Eilish’s “Bad Guy” informing us that Death is calling.

“Shit,” I grumble. “Lady, give us the dog.”

She pouts but manages to untangle him from her boobs before handing him to us. Frannie squishes him between us as I swim us back to shore. We miss the call, but Death calls again.

“Hello?” I ask, breathless.

“You like making me wait, young man? You think this is funny?”

I cough. “No, sir. I mean, no. Er, what do you want?”

Frannie, still high as fuck as she tries to redress, giggles at me. “Oooh, you’re gonna get in so much trouble!”

“I have eyes on you,” Mr. Death reveals.

Panic swells up inside of me as I struggle to throw on my boxers. “Y-You do?”

“I know you’re not in Denver yet.”

“Oh yeah?” And…

“And you’re supposed to be in Denver.”

That’s a fucking relief. He doesn’t have physical eyes on us. The thought of him seeing Frannie with her tits bouncing and her nipples hard is enough to have me bubbling over with rage.

“The day’s still young,” I grumble.

“Brats! Luca, they have brats ready! You want ketchup?” Then she giggles again.

I shake my head at her, fighting a smile.

“Sounds like you’re having fun,” Mr. Death growls.

Sobering up, I clear my throat. “How are Lindsay and Cala?”

“They’re fine. Taken care of. For now.”

“This ketchup is green!” Frannie calls out. “It’d look delicious on Big Winner!”

Groaning, I mouth to her to “stop.” She doesn’t stop. Just keeps babbling her adorable nonsense with her dog yapping in agreement.

“She’s happy,” Mr. Death utters.

“Yeah? What’s it to you?” I bite out, remembering who the fuck I’m talking to. The man who wants to take her. To take what’s mine.

“Finish doing what you’re doing and we’ll talk in the morning.”

And then he hangs up.

“What did Andy Garcia say?” she asks, before handing me a brat in a bun dressed with a ridiculous amount of green ketchup.

“To keep doing what we’re doing.”

Her eyes flash wickedly before she licks the line of green ketchup from her own brat. “Getting freaky?”

“We’re not getting freaky,” I grunt.

She pouts. “But I think it could be fun.”

I shake my head at her as I practically inhale my brat. I abandon her and her yappy dog to grab us something to drink. When I pass by the table with all the condiments, I pick up the “green” bottle of ketchup. Homemade ketchup.

Oh shit.

But rather than panic, I relax.

Theo slaps me on the back. “Big Winner, that’s homemade right there by yours truly.”

“Potent,” I grumble, because fuck if I’m not already feeling it.

“Hells yeah, bro.” He playfully bites my shoulder. “We doin’ this threeway thing or what?”

“Dude,” I growl. “Frannie’s mine.”

He laughs. “Have a brownie, man. I know Lil’ Smokie can’t compete with Big Winner. Just joshin’ ya.”

A brownie does sound good…

“My van’s over there,” he says, waggling his brows as he hands me two brownies. “Everyone knows if the van’s a rockin’ to not come a knockin’. Take the ketchup too. Cowgirl over there seems to love ketchup.”

I follow his gaze to where she’s very obviously practicing sucking dick on her brat. She’s tossed the bun to Chandler while she works her magic on the meat.

“Holy fuck.”

Theo laughs again. “You’re welcome.”