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Jason lay in his bed, Lucia tucked under his arm. He caressed her skin absentmindedly while staring at the ceiling.
They had made love three—or four—times that evening, and now he was truly spent.
Made love. Yeah, it sounded funny to Jason, but nothing else quite described what he and Lucia had together. He’d never cared about a woman in that way before.
Holding her close now, it was easy to take their relationship for granted. But then he remembered how hard he had tried to win her over. He had even risked his life for her, yet he hadn’t regretted a single thing.
They came from two entirely different worlds, but it was probably that very difference that had brought them together.
He recalled the night he had met her—the bewildered expression on her face as they carried him out of the club in a dazed state.
~A couple of weeks earlier~
Security tossed them out of the club—a couple of girls and their hot-headed boyfriends.
“¿Qué carajo te pasa?” she yelled at her six-foot-three boyfriend. “El tipo ni siquiera me tocó!”
“Considera esto una advertencia,” the brute sneered darkly, addressing Jason.
Jason couldn’t reply even if he had wanted to. A skull-splitting pain made his eyes water so badly that he could barely see, but the adrenaline had kicked in, so he wasn’t afraid.
Getting even never even crossed his mind. The fact that the beautiful Latina had defended him, and not her boyfriend, was consolation enough.
“¡Sube, Lucia!”
The enraged Latino grabbed her by the arm, shoving her into a sleek black car that could leave Jason’s red Charger in the dust.
There was the sound of the door slamming shut, and with a screech of tires, the car vanished into the night.
***
For the next couple of days, Jason wasn’t particularly keen on remembering every single detail of the embarrassing event that was slipping away from his mind, as unfortunate memories often do.
But there was one thing he couldn’t forget, even if he tried—the girl who had made a lasting impression on him and his dick.
Lucia—he finally had a name to pair with the image, and it was this name that danced on his lips as he masturbated to her in his dark room.
And yet, oddly, he didn’t solely daydream about her insane body. He was also genuinely curious about her personality—her likes and dislikes, her dreams, her favorite song and her go-to drink order when she went out to the club. In short, he wanted to know everything.
At least he knew her voice—sexy and cheeky—just like he imagined her kisses would be.
If he weren’t completely numb to those things, Jason might have thought he was falling in love. A ridiculous thought, and a bit unsettling just the same.
How could anyone fall in love with a girl he had only seen once—then, two seconds later, been laid out?
Besides, it wasn’t like he’d ever see her again. Probably best to forget about her before both his brain and his cock went numb.
She and the people she was with weren’t club regulars; otherwise, he would have recognized them. Honestly, her boyfriend appeared to be a small-time criminal. Not too threatening, but he probably knew some very dangerous people. And he also seemed to be short-fused and vengeful—not the kind of guy you’d want to steal a girlfriend from.
Jason couldn’t help but wonder what this girl, Lucia, was doing with such a guy. He remembered how the guy had grabbed her arm and forced her into the car. The thought made Jason’s blood boil and his fists clench. It was almost as if he were… jealous? Another intriguing and unfamiliar feeling.
In any case, Jasion deeply regretted that he and this chick, Lucia, clearly were never meant to be.
***
The morning at the car lot went painfully slow. Jason had a couple of noncommittal customers that were “just looking.” He knew the type—middle-aged men who liked to take a stroll and evade their wives for one morning. And they’d try to convince Jason that what he was selling was junk (which it had been—most of the time).
Jason wasn’t one of those shady car dealers, though, who’d try to sell you a clunker for an inflated price.
This was probably because he already ran an illegal side hustle, so it seemed a bit excessive to cheat people on both fronts.
He was truly passionate about cars, and understood them inside and out. Each purr, each rumble of the engine had its meaning. Jason had even maintained cars over four decades old that would’ve long fallen apart with another owner. If Jason said the car was decent and could go, you’d better take his advice.
The car dealership business also enabled Jason to constantly switch between cars, which gave the impression he had more money than he actually did. The cars weren’t particularly new or expensive, but Jason had a way of making them shine. It was fun, and it was also a real chick magnet.
As for his other, illegal, hustle, this was where things were starting to get interesting.
For all the regular customers, the small rooms whose doors were located behind the cash register led to the restroom, the storage room, and the warehouse. But every now and then, some guy would show up with a knowing wink and ask for Jason.
Jason would then ask the guy who sent him, and, based on the response, he’d know if the guy was trustworthy.
These guys would usually seek a clean, quick escape from… whatever the hell they were running away from.
Whether they were looking for a way to escape a suffocating romantic relationship, start fresh, present improved job credentials, flee across the border, pull off a heist… Jason didn’t ask—he delivered.
Because this was what Jason’s little side gig was all about—he was a forger.
Of course, he couldn’t do it all by himself. He had a hell of a good crew that consisted of an IT guy, a washed-up artist turned tattooist, and a courier who was assigned to deliver goods and information. And then there was Jason, of course, who kept it all together by screening clients.
You could say Jason was an extroverted introvert. Mostly he didn’t like people, since they were generally less intelligent and less capable than him (at least Jason thought so). This didn’t prevent him, though, from being omnipresent, seeing people, and being seen. It was probably his charming persona that made people cling to him, which is why he had a huge network of contacts—acquaintances who might come in handy.
Last Saturday, they closed a decent deal—some crew had ordered a bunch of fake IDs. Of course, no one knew exactly who was behind it all, since it was all arranged through intermediaries—this was how these things went.
The less Jason knew, the less he cared, and if anyone started snooping around, he wouldn’t be able to say anything. This is how both parties stayed covered.
The only thing Jason was interested in was cold, hard cash.
They received 10% in advance in this ID business, but since it was a hefty job, the advance was proportionally big as well. That’s why Jason was celebrating that night at the club.
***
The morning stretched to noon. Jason was back at the “warehouse”, overseeing the work, when he heard a voice from the main room that made his stomach flip.
He’d heard the voice before—in Spanish only—although it was speaking English just now. But he recognized it all the same. Lucia. The girl from the club.
“I’m looking for Jason,” he heard his name being mentioned. He peeked through the door, spotting Lucia talking to the cashier.
The cashier seemed half amused, half doubtful. Prompted by his silence, she continued: “Er… I don’t know the last name. But they recommended him to me.”
Jason estimated now was the time to reveal his presence. He’d managed to steady his breath so he could appear calm and collected, even though his nerves buzzed.
What the hell was she doing here? Looking for him, specifically? He’d find out soon enough.
“I’m Jason,” he said with a swagger, in his most I-don’t-give-a-fuck tone, stepping out from the room in the back and approaching her.
He was waiting for her reaction, and wasn’t let down. She recognized him instantly, froze for a second, then cursed in Spanish and turned to leave.
“This was a bad idea,” she said as she was heading to the door.
“Wait!” Jason called after her. She paused. “Who sent you?”
She stopped to look at him, pondering. She wore a black crop top and jean shorts and Jason had to make great effort to not let his gaze wander over her. He was too invested to learn what she wanted.
“The tall, blond barman. From the Jack. He said… you can give me what I need.”
Oh you can bet I got what you need, baby, Jason thought, but instead, he said:
“And what exactly do you need?”
“Papers. Fake ones.”
Jason sent the cashier away, and once he was out of the earshot, he asked:
“Why?” And there it was. Jason had broken his number one rule— never ask a client what they needed the papers for. Too many questions led to thinking, and too much thinking led to… well, guilt. And the last thing Jason needed was to feel guilty, because that would’ve made him a terrible forger.
She shrugged. “Do you need to know that? I’ve got money.”
Usually, mentioning cash was enough info for Jason. Sure, sometimes he’d refuse certain clients. He didn’t like forging medical or engineering degrees. It was also a hard no for creeps who wanted fake IDs for minors. But something told him this girl really needed his help.
“Alright, let’s say I’m in. What do you need?”
“Umm, is there like a full package? An ID, a passport, a driver’s licence… all that stuff.”
Jason let out a loud whistle.
“Wow, you gonna disappear from the face of earth?”
She watched him intently, her expression unchanged. She was cautious—he liked that. Smart girl. But what is she running from?
“Your boyfriend know you’re here?”
“No.”
“How did you get here?”
“A friend drove me.”
“Can you trust her?”
“It's him. But yeah, I can trust him.”
“And what if your little friend went and blurted out all about this to your boyfriend? Then we’re both screwed. ‘Cause it’s him you’re running away from, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“Why don’t you pack a suitcase and move to another state?”
“‘Cause he wouldn’t let me. He’d go after me.” Jason scoffed.
“Isn’t that what chicks fantasize about? A possessive guy?” Then his smile faded. “Unless he… wait, did he hurt you?” He immediately started scanning her for evidence of violence. He found none.
“No,” she said with a quick head shake. “Héctor would never lay a hand on me. But I’ve seen what he’s capable of doing to others…”
“I get it.”
“And he’ll never let me go. Not of his own free will.”
It was starting to dawn on Jason that he was probably better off sending her away and not get himself involved in this mess.
He knew guys like Héctor. He could deduce what she was referring to when she said what this guy was capable of.
The guy already had beef with him, and even if she managed to pull off her plan, what would happen if he started snooping? The trail would lead straight to Jason.
He studied her. She returned the gaze, stubbornly. In any other situation, it would have given him a hard-on. But now…
But then again, wasn’t this what he wanted? Wasn’t this what he’d been waiting for? Destiny had sent her straight to him, and he’d just turn his back and let her slip out? No. Fuck. He’d help her, he suddenly decided. Or rather, his dick had already decided for him.
He’d take a risk. He’d deliver the papers himself, making sure she goes through with her plan until the end. Which reminded him—
“You got yourself a deal. But what’s your plan?”
“You think I’m stupid, gringo?” she scoffed.
No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re sexy as hell, he thought.
***
Jason promised Lucia her papers would be done in two days. They arranged to meet at a neutral spot in the city, during the day.
The sun was sinking low when Jason got to their meeting place, but Lucia hadn’t yet arrived. Then he spotted her coming toward him on foot, wearing a plain top and a mini-skirt. What was with this chick and fucking mini-skirts? he thought angrily.
His fury wasn’t caused only by the sheer frustration that he couldn’t get involved with her, but also by the fact that every single guy in the street was low-key checking her out.
He refrained from saying anything, though, keeping the focus on their transaction, although he felt his balls were about to explode.
Like that night in the club, she had that certain glow that made everything on her look tasteful, even though in reality, it was trashy.
Finally, she came close to him, her face serious. He had the envelope with the papers ready, while she carried the cash in the purse slung over her shoulder.
“Were you followed?” He asked.
“No.” She clicked her tongue.
“Okay. Here’s everything you n—“ Jason stopped mid-sentence when he spotted an expensive black car with tinted windows pulling up on the other side of the street. He knew a suspicious-looking car when he saw one.
Without waiting to confirm his suspicions, he said in urgent, low voice:
“It seems you were followed. Don’t turn around!” he growled. “When I give you a sign, follow me and get into that red Charger over there.” He signaled toward the car with his eyes.
Lucia seemed shaken but kept it together. She couldn’t help but turn, only to see the door of the car open and a Latino guy climbing out. Jason thought he looked familiar. Lucia cursed in Spanish, while Jason grabbed her hand and yelled:
“Now!”
They dove into the Charger upside-down. The suspicious Latino cursed and scrambled back into his car, as well.
And then, the chase began.
The very sound of the gas pedal sent a jolt of adrenaline through Jason. This was his thing—driving. He glanced at Lucia and said in a low voice:
“Strap in. And hold on.”
They raced the streets of Vice City, as Jason had done so many times before. Other drivers cursed and blared their horns, but Jason paid them no mind.
The black car chased after them, gaining on them fast. His car was faster, but Jason was more skilled. Even so, he couldn’t shake them off that easily. He felt something else coil inside of him, and it wasn’t adrenalin. It was anger.
“So you weren’t followed, huh?!” He shouted.
“How the fuck was I supposed to know?” Her tone wasn’t steady, either.
“I don’t know… maybe fucking TURN AROUND once in a while! Who’s that guy anyway?”
“Héctor’s henchmen… malparido…” She muttered under her breath.
“Your boyfriend Héctor?!”
“Yes!”
“Throw your phone away!”
“What?!” She shot him a look like he’d lost his mind.
“Throw it through the window, damn it! Now!” She didn’t have time to react before he yanked the phone from her hand and sent it flying. It disappeared under the wheels of the car chasing them.
Night fell over Vice City, and the city lights glowed in full force.
Jason realized he needed to step up his game. His car protested, but he was confident in its abilities.
Jason glanced at Lucia. Considering the noise, the insane speed and the utter commotion, she stayed surprisingly cool. He half-expected her to start praying in Spanish any second, but she was calm, turning around once in a while to keep him updated on their pursuers.
Then, she shrieked: “¡Mierda!”
“What now?!”
“They’re armed!”
“Shit!” Jason exclaimed, gripping the wheel tighter.
The guy in the backseat aimed—not at their heads, but at their wheels.
“Motherfucker!” Jason roared as bullets ricocheted off the trunk of his car.
They were approaching a crossroads.
“Not today, you son of a bitch!” Jason exclaimed, slamming his foot on the brakes. Lucia flew around the cabin, even with her seatbelt on. Jason yanked the wheel into a full spin, leaving deep skid marks on the asphalt.
Now, they were speeding in the opposite direction, leaving their pursuers stuck at the crossroads as the traffic lights changed.
So far, Jason had stuck to heavy traffic to slow down their chasers. But he knew they needed to disappear completely—these fuckers weren’t going to give up.
They veered into a quieter part of the city, and after Jason pulled off a few expert moves to throw them off, he finally pulled into a dark side alley.
He turned in his seat, his arm on the backrest. It seemed their pursuers had given up.
“That’s it. I think we lost them.” He exhaled in relief.
Lucia didn’t answer. She studied him with an intense expression he couldn’t decipher.
“What?” he asked.
“Guys who drive fast turn me on,” she said breathlessly. Before Jason could wrap his mind around what was happening, she grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and pulled him closer, pressing her lips against his.
For a moment, Jason felt like his soul had left his body as if he were watching the whole thing play out from the side. He could hardly believe it.
Then, his mind focused on the kiss. It was… fire, blazing fire. Dark chocolate with a hint of chili. Sweet and unrestrained at the same time, just as he had imagined—just as he knew it would be.
Their lips parted, and Jason swept her onto his lap in a single motion. They moved quickly, breathless and wordless as if neither of them could wait for the moment they finally crashed together, not wanting to waste breath on conversation.
Jason unzipped his jeans, letting his hard cock spring free. Then his hand found its way under her skirt, and he pushed her panties slightly to the side, letting out a shudder as his finger grazed the freshly shaven smoothness.
She slid onto him with ease, throwing her head back with a loud moan that made his cock harden even more. She locked her fingers with his and, using his arms as support, started riding his cock expertly, needily, the way no woman had before.
The sex itself was nothing special—it was quick, uncomfortable, and claustrophobic. It was her that made it special.
He could feel her soft yet firm ass pressing against his thighs as she moved up and down; he felt her warm, slick walls enveloping him, squeezing around him so tightly he thought that just one more thrust would send him over the edge.
Lucia, for her part, seemed lost in the moment, panting and spilling an incomprehensible stream of words in Spanish.
Jason could not hold on any longer. He urged her to move aside and they both watched, transfixed, as burst after burst of his load coated the little triangle-shaped patch on her pussy.
Lucia looked up at him, her eyelids half-shut, and then she kissed him slowly—deeply this time. To Jason, it felt like this kiss could make him leave everything behind and follow her wherever the hell she meant to go.