LATCH Read Free Page A

last longer and to make it stronger. But as I fight this feeling, I lose. The thought of Abby burns in my memory and I erupt, letting go into my shirt. My hand rubs the tip of my shaft as I squeeze out every last drop, grunting in pleasure. Christ, I’ve become so needy when it comes to orgasms – I need a few a day, at the very least.
    After I clean myself up, I still can’t shake away the worry. Grabbing my phone off of the table, I text her back, What can I do to help? I’ll do anything to make it better.
    On my walk to get breakfast, I get a text back from Abby, For now, please just give me some space. Her words are the last that I ever wanted to hear, but if that’s what she wants, then that’s what I’m going to give her. I respect her on a different level than anyone else. Locking my phone, I place it in my pocket and walk inside Tazza Di Caffè, making eye contact with the girl that works the counter and smile, “Morning.”
    “Hey, Latch,” she responds. “What can I get for you?” She’s always seemed to like me, but after I fucked the other counter girl that works here I know she won’t ever consider it. “The usual.” She turns and starts my order, knowing just what I like. My eyes are locked in on her gorgeous body as she’s making my latte and I really wish she’d change her mind. My job has made me a true connoisseur of women, and I always want a taste of something fresh.
    God, I’d love to tear her up, I’d even trade her for free breakfast and lattes.
    I laugh to myself, and then her mom says, “Morning, Latch,” from the back and my mind gets real dirty as she bends over and I imagine a threesome. “Hey, Deb.” I watch her sexy ass and then notice that the girl is waiting for me to pay with my order in hand. I toss a twenty down as she hands me my breakfast. Walking out, I shake away the images of fucking those two.
    My phone rings. Pulling it out, I am shocked to see my dad calling. I haven’t talked to him in probably six months. I contemplate not even answering it, but considering the time of day, I’m intrigued; he’s never up before noon…at least that I’m aware of.
    “Morning, son,” he says in his raspy voice, sounding like he hasn’t slept in days.
    “Hey, everything okay?” I ask right off.
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I hate to bother you, but I kinda need a favor.”
    Now it makes sense – of course he needs a fucking favor. I cross the intersection, wishing that I would have just ignored his call.
    “I’m not really sure I’m the best person for you to be asking that.” My dad is the chapter president for a biker club in Baltimore where I grew up, and from the moment that I hit puberty, he and I bumped heads. We never saw eye to eye on a lot of things, especially his club.
    “I think you can. I just need to store some items at your house for a while.”
    “Items?” I ask, questioning him.
    “Yeah,” he clears his throat, “Maybe a week or two? We came into some unexpected merchandise last night and need somewhere off the radar to keep it.”
    Stopping on the street, I look up at the cloudy sky, not sure how to answer him. I haven’t talked to him for so long, and this is how he’s going to call me for the first time? Not “how are you doing?” or “how’s your Grandma?” just some selfish bullshit, like always.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Please, Latch, I wouldn’t ask you if I had another choice.”
    There are heavy consequences to what he does, I’ve seen that first hand. That life is not my life for a reason. I might not be doing what some call honest work, but aside from Abby, I only sleep with single women and couples. I keep the drama to a minimum. I can only imagine what he needs to store and who he took it from, especially considering some of the things I’ve witnessed. It’s why I swore I would never ride or live that lifestyle.
    “I’m sorry, Dad, but I can’t help ya.”
    He hangs up, clearly pissed off. As much as I wish