The Cheetah

Something was up. If Jo Jo was coming all the way to Northside Avenue, something was up. It was a twenty-five mile drive. Estimating his time of arrival was at least as hard as picking a roulette number--straight up. Ellis was in the middle of his second game of pool. He had to do something; he couldn't just sit.

The break was decent. The One ball was almost on the spot and cue was along the rail behind the side pocket. Why was a spot shot the hardest shot in pool? It was like a free throw in basketball. Ellis placed his bridge hand half on the rail and half on the table. He aimed and slid the cue back and forth a couple of times beneath his chin before shooting. Click! The cue ball kissed the One. The yellow One was rolling straight at the pocket. He had made it. He raised slightly to watch it drop. A hand flicked out like the tongue of a frog and scooped the ball. He looked up at Jo Jo Stearns.

He didn't have to look up very far. Jo Jo was average height--if you were at a Munchkin reunion. No problem; what he lacked in H, he made up for in Pi-D. Stearn's 50 inch girth made him a shoe-in for any game of King of the Mountain.

"My sister can make that shot," Jo Jo said.

"Bring her on. I don't have money for lunch yet."

"You will soon." He raised a hand toward the waitress who Ellis had sent away twice. "Bring us two drafts," Jo Jo practically yelled at her.

"Sounds serious. And you all the way up here at North Avenue," Ellis said.

"Hey, Atlanta ain't so big. You want solids?" He grabbed the first cue his hand touched in the wall rack. Jo Jo moved the cue ball behind the scratch line and made the fourteen at the other end. He lined up to make the eleven in the side, but he shot too hard and it rattled out.

"You should've sent your sister," Ellis needled.

"Here ya go." The waitress sat the beers on a rail of the table. While Jo Jo was flipping money on her tray, she looked at Ellis. "How'd you get so tall?"

Ellis thought it an odd comment since he was only six feet. "I spend a lot of time horizontal," he replied. "Gravity eases up on me that way."

"A smart ass. I like that, too" she tossed over her shoulder as she returned to the bar.

Ellis took his eyes off her ass when Jo Jo said, "Hey, I got something for you."

"What is it?" Ellis took his turn at the table.

"He won't tell me--just that you gotta take somebody out. All he wants out of me is to set up the meeting. A hundred K."

"How much is your cut?"

"He takes care of me, pays me well just to find you. The hundred K is yours."

Ellis missed. Jo JO was circling the table, looking at the stripes. He lined the eleven up in the corner.

"That's not bad," Ellis said after a pause, as if he had taken a second to digest the figure.

"Yeah, I figure it's a wife. Don't you. A crack-head will do any dealer for five or less. It could be a business associate, but probably a wife."

Jo JO continued, "I don't worry about a job like this with you, Ellie. You know why? You're like a cheetah. Cheetahs survive, you know that? They're fast but that's not why they survive. Gazelles are fast, but lions have them for breakfast. No, a cheetah survives number one because it's a cat and cats land on their feet. But mostly cheetahs survive because they are always aware of their environs. And that's you Ellie, you always know what's up. Ellis, the Cheetah."

"So, whatta I gotta do?"

"You meet his agent. Even I don't know the real guy, just his go-between. He'll have half of your money and the mark. Nobody knows anybody. You want it?"

Ellis picked up the paper. "Yeah," he said.

"Go to the Tin Top Bar at fourteenth and Peachtree Road at two this afternoon. A guy there is looking for Ackerly Lawn Service. That's your guy."

Kapow! The eight ball slammed home in the side pocket! Jo Jo stuck his cue back in the rack. "See ya around, sister," he said and was on his way out the door.

***

Instead of parking in the lot across the street from the Tin Top, Ellis parked a few blocks away near Spring and Fourteenth. Peachtree ran a serpentine line through Atlanta's midtown. Near Fourteenth, as if on a dragon's back, it ran along the crest of a hill. Ellis walked up the hill, across the crest that was Peachtree and less than a block downhill to the Tin Top.

At two in the afternoon; there were five people in the place. Three of them sat at the bar. The place was long and narrow. In the back, away from the windows, sat a man and a woman on the same side in a booth. Ellis slid into a booth half way back.

Two of the three at the bar looked like fixtures and were no doubt having a liquid-diet breakfast. The third guy, in jeans and a black tee, probably a one-time body builder, sat on the short side of the bar, his back to the door. Ellis thought he had "cop" written all over him. The guy never looked to where Ellis sat. His elbows on the bar, he nursed a glass of draft beer.

A man in a long-sleeved green shirt and black pants came through the door. He walked straight to where Ellis sat.

"You're Ackerly Lawn Service, right?"

"Maybe," Ellis replied.

Hardly waiting for the answer, the guy slid into the booth opposite Ellis. He had a swarthy complexion and thinning black hair that he combed straight back, slick and shiny. Ellis sneaked a peek at the bar guy. It could easily be a setup. Two cops in the room.

"I got work for you," Mr. Green Shirt said calmly.

"Oh, yeah. And what is that?"

"My client wants you to kill his wife."

A cop would never say that, not if he was wearing a wire--and if he was trying to make Ellis, he would have on a wire. Ellis decided the guy at the bar was just having a beer.

"I'm just an agent," the guy continued, "like your guy, Jo Jo."

"Someone mentioned a number," Ellis said.

"A hundred thousand. Here's half." He slid a packet across the table. "And this is her." He slid another packet across the table.

Swarthy rattled off the info, "She has morning coffee and hits the gym six days a week. That part never varies. Try to make it look random."

***

Ellis waited across the street from Arlene's Body Shop in Mid-town. This was the second day he had marked her. When he had first slid the photos out while seated in his car, his wondered why the husband would want her dead. While he was turning that thought over in his mind, she stepped out of Arlene's and walked south. She wore black slacks, strap sandals, and a white blouse--she had showered in the gym. A bag, large but hardly large enough for a change of clothes, hung from her shoulder. She probably had a locker inside.

Ellis moved casually in the same direction on the opposite side of the street. She walked briskly. He wondered where her car was.

She was tall and trim, just like in the photos. She wore large black-plastic sunglasses. Her hair was somewhere between blond and brown. She slipped into a book store. Did she go into the book store everyday? This was the second day in a row.

Ellis ordered an iced chai latte from the counter of the open-air coffee shop directly across the street from the book store and took one of the tables on the sidewalk. He squinted into the morning sun. She wasn't visible through the windows. Ellis concentrated on the door. He finished the latte. Had she taken this much time the day before?

"Do you mind if I join you?"

It was her. How had she left the bookstore and approached his table from behind, from the coffee bar? She sat without waiting for his answer.

"I know he hired you," she stated flatly. Ellis still hadn't spoken. She turned and looked straight at him. "Probably to kill me." She looked at Ellis who was staring straight ahead, sipping the latte.

"I know because that's what he said he would do--if I ever tried to leave him." She pursed her lips, looked down, and then brought her own coffee to her lips, as if she had just discovered it.

"Have you tried to leave him?" Ellis heard his voice ask.

"What I've done or not done doesn't matter. It's what he thinks."

Ellis didn't speak. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Each casually played at the last of their drinks.

Then she asked, "How much did he pay you?" When Ellis didn't answer she continued, "It doesn't matter. Whatever it was, I can pay you a lot more after he's gone. My husband has a lot of money," she explained. "I can pay you well, if you kill him instead of me."

When Ellis didn't answer, she broke the silence, "You seem smart." Ellis thought about that, given that he hadn't spoken. "You're good-looking," she added. "How did you get into this business?" Usually a guy's question, Ellis thought.

"It doesn't matter," she concluded. "Let's at least talk about it, but not here. I know a place."

The Colt-Reid was boutique hotel. The desk clerk called her by name, though his enthusiasm seemed a bit over the top to Ellis, and he told her Eleven Left, as if confirming something he already knew. The rooms were massive. There were two per floor and only twelve floors. Consequently, rooms were assigned by the floor number and right or left, depending on the appropriate turn after stepping off the incredibly slow and believed to be ancient elevator.

Fresh flowers sat in the magnificently decorated foyer. The carpet was soft, too soft for shoes. The sheers were closed and the drapes parted just so in the living area. Through the open door, Ellis could see the huge bed, an acre on top of the mattress and tall, the top at least three feet off the floor.

They had hardly sat before a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket was wheeled in on a cart after Ms. Jeffries opened the door. Ellis didn't remember her ordering wine. The steward half-filled two glasses and passed one to each of them.

"So how did you get in this business?" she asked. My name is Laura, by the way. Laura Bentley--but then you know my last name, don't you?"

"That's the second time you've asked a question about "this business". Isn't that a question a guy usually asks a woman, Laura? And I'm Ellis."

"What are you implying, Ellis? I'm certainly in no business, except maybe the business of staying alive. I'm merely suggesting that you seem intelligent and you are good-looking, so how did you get in the business of killing people."

Ellis thought about the .38 in his pocket. He could end all of this now and collect the other fifty grand. Yes, a people had seen him: the desk clerk, the steward, the doorman. Who could say how enthusiastic they would be about an investigation? He decided to hear her out.

When he didn't answer about his work, she continued, "How can I reverse the tables on that bastard? I don't care how much he offered you. When he's gone, I will be well taken care of. It wouldn't bother me to give you one or two--million."

When Ellis still didn't speak, she went on, "Then again, maybe I can offer you something he can't." She paused with the wine glass resting between her parted lips.

The word million had his attention. He wondered if this "other thing" was what he thought. Only one way to find out. "Take off your clothes," Ellis ordered. She stared at him, expressionless, impossible to read. "I'd like to see the offer," he added.

He watched her fingers go to the top button of her blouse. Her chin was tucked a bit, making her eyes appear even larger. He locked on them. She faced him, standing in front of the closed sheers, between the edges of the drapes, her feet planted as wide as her shoulders. Her garments came off one at a time, top to bottom. Ellis looked at only her face. Her eyes were unreadable pools; he sensed the hint of a smile at the edge of her lips; her nostrils seem to flare.

The backlight through the sheers made her skin appear darker. He had been with with women who were olive or naturally dark, but there was something infinitely more attractive about this fair-complected woman who had tanned herself.

Their eyes remained locked as she tossed the blouse and slacks aside. She wasted no time unhooking her bra. Ellis's lips parted when she pulled it away. Her nipples were dark, the same color but not quite as dark as a plum. He watched them protrude, longer and longer. No one would think her breast large, even so they were the most beautiful Ellis had seen.

She flung the panties away and the backlight highlighted the long, wispy locks between her legs. The hair was unruly, not kinky but long and waved.

It was more than he could stand. Ellis stood, took her wrist, and started for the bedroom. At the bed, he hurried the buttons of his shirt. He slung her toward the bed but she rolled atop the mattress onto her hands and knees, smiling at him.

"No, not here," she said. "In there." She pointed to the bathroom. Before he could respond she rolled off the bed and stepped that way.

Ellis turned and followed her with measured steps, contemplating this new arena.

"Bring the wine," she said, a mischievous smile on her lips. She closed the door. He heard the water start.

He returned with the ice bucket, the wine inside. His hand went to the knob but it was locked. He rattled the knob. Her laughter came through the door. Ellis sat the ice bucket down and grabbed the knob with both hands. When he rattled it, his strength threaten to tear the knob from the door.

"Wait, wait," she laughed from inside. She undid the lock and grinned at him, peeking around the door as she pulled it back.

"Here, let me." She took the cooler from him and placed it on the ledge beside the tub.

Ellis began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let me do that too." She stepped forward, slid a hand past the three buttons he had undone, and pinched his nipple. Another button gave way as she pushed at the shirt. She slid it off his shoulder and closed her mouth on his tit. He shuddered when she sucked it in.

She half turned them--a dance. Ellis opened his eyes and found himself staring into the wall mirror above the vanity. In it he saw her streaky blonde hair, her back, and her gorgeous ass.

She yanked at his shirt and the remaining buttons either popped or pulled through. Her hand went to his pants, but he was there first and quickly undid buckle, snap and zipper. In one deft motion he opened his jeans. In seconds he kicked free of shorts, socks and shoes.

She reached for his cock, but he pulled her up by her arms and holding her triceps pulled her to him. She leaned away, laughed, and when his lips searched for her mouth, turned to the side and then back to bite his lower lip. As she threw her head back, Ellis moved forward and pinned her against the counter and mirrored wall.

"Wait," she whispered.

Ellis hesitated. She stepped around him and turned off the tub. It was a magnificent vessel, a white enamel thing encased in shiny patterned-green tile. The curved top came high out of the tile. It was deep and big for one person. Satisfied that it was large enough for two, Laura stepped in one end and pulled Ellis toward the other.

"Sit on the edge," he told her.

He took the soap, rubbed it a bit with his hands and then soaped the inside of her thigh. She grinned, then caught her lip as his hand crept higher and rubbed soap into her pubic hair. The long thick hair held the lather. Ellis rubbed it down on each of her lips. She held the edge of the tub in her hands and ground her hips toward him. He could tell not all the moisture came from the soap.

"I used to trim it," she said, "now I just let it grow wild."

"It's beautiful," he said. "You're beautiful."

Without a word, she dropped off the edge of the tub into the water and back up, rinsing herself. She pushed Ellis up on the tub's edge. Using the soap and rubbed his cock, which was so stiff it was parallel to his stomach and pointing straight up. She held the shaft in one hand and slipped her other closed fist over the head. She moved both of her hands, slick with the soap, up and down his rod.

"Goddam," he said and pulled away. She laughed, knowing he was within seconds of cumming.

She cupped her hands, dipped water and rinsed him. She leaned forward and took him in her mouth. Maybe she didn't suck her old man's cock. In any case her inexperience showed. She put her mouth over him, trying not to touch him with her tongue or the roof of her mouth and not actually sucking. After a few movements of her head, Ellis put his hand on the back of her head and pushed his dick to the door of her throat. She made a noise but he pushed again. He could feel his cock hit the back of her mouth.

It was too good; before he came he closed his fist in her hair and pulled her head off his dick. In the same motion he pushed her up on the tub's edge. She lay back against the wall, her legs slightly spread. He moved his head past her knees and breathed against her thigh. With his lips, he brushed a trail toward her pussy. His tongue swam up the edge of her left and down it. He flicked the middle, trying to pop her clit out amidst the bush. When it swelled, he saw that she was a beautiful grape instead of a cauliflower. He darted his tongue inside her tunnel and quickly pulled it out.

When he looked, her eyes were half-closed in a steamy gaze at the ceiling. Ellis reached over the side and took two cubes from the wine cooler. He spread her legs, which had crept together, wide again. When the cube touched the right lip of her pussy, she jumped and laughed. He quickly covered the spot with this tongue. He roamed each lip and the inside of each with the ice and then his mouth. Harder and more hungry, he threw the ice aside and pushed his tongue inside her. He fucked her with it. Pushing as deep as he could and curling the tip against the roof before pulling it back. He could feel the inside layers with his tongue-tip. She held his head and moved against his mouth. When she curled her fingers in his hair and he felt her tense, he pulled his head away.

Before she could protest he, he pulled her to her feet. At that moment he happened to look past her shoulder; she looked up; and their eyes met in the mirror above the vanity. He pushed at her shoulder. Reading his mind, she bent over and caught the counter top in her hands.

Towels hung unused on the rack. Their bodies were dripping wet. He slid his hand between them and lifted his long cock up to her pussy. Rubbing it up and down, he found her hole and slipped the head in. Positioning himself, with a hand on each side of her ass, he began fucking her with long slick strokes. He held her ass and pushed as deeply into her pussy as he could. The head of his cock pressed against the very back wall or her tunnel. She pushed against the counter with each of his thrusts. He bashed at that wall, grinding his dick against it.

She looked up and they locked eyes in the mirror. He had never felt a woman like her, a hot silky slick tunnel wrapped around him. It was heaven. The feeling would later be difficult to recall, but the look in her eyes that he saw in the mirror would always be with him.

He disengaged, pulled her upright and rushed her to the bed. Pushing her across it on her back, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her to the edge. The bed and it's thick mattresses placed her just below his waist. He pulled her ass to the very edge and positioned her feet adjacent to it.

Using his thumb, Ellis pushed his cock down the dripping-wet door of her pussy. His dick, so engorged with desire for her, strained against the downward pressure. Again he felt the thrill of entering her. He pushed himself in to the hilt. Standing at the side of the bed, he pumped. He could see the top of his dick, turgid and rippled, shining with her juices. He slid it in and out of her.

"Go harder!" she gasped.

He made uncoordinated bucks at her, then grabbing her forearms, he found a rhythm and began pumping her faster. His grip on her arms raised her upper body a bit. Her head fell back. Each time his dick slammed into her, her hair brushed across the bed cover.