Read Online Deliver Me From Evil by Mary Monroe - Free Book Online Page A

come straight out and tell him I wanted him to fuck me? Or just go ahead and get naked and start the job myself! I didn’t think that I could make myself more obvious. “It could be you in me,” I offered, pushing myself up against him and grinding. He was several inches taller than me, so I was grinding against his thigh. “I’ve been asking around about you, and I hear that you are going to be an actor,” I added. I wanted him to know that he was already on my agenda. “Going to be in the movies and on television and stuff. Just like John Travolta.” I spoke in a firm and serious tone of voice. I wanted him to know off the bat that I was not just trying to be funny. “But you are way cuter than John Travolta, so you’ll be more rich and famous than he is.”
    That got his attention real fast. His eyes got big, and his lips curled up at both ends into the biggest smile I’d ever seen on a boy. “Uh, I sure hope so. It’s all I ever wanted to do,” he said hopefully, turning his head so I could see his profile. “I’m going down to Hollywood as soon as I get out of school,” he announced, with a sniff and a glazed look on his face. He was no longer looking at me; he was looking over my shoulder at the wall. When I cleared my throat and pressed against him a little harder, he returned his attention to me. He shook his head and looked at me, blinking a few times before he spoke again. “I figured I’d do a little television first. You know, so I can get my feet wet. I cut my teeth on Cheers, but I think I’ll concentrate on the serious shows when I get down there. There are too many black clowns out there already. They should have stopped with Eddie Murphy.” He paused and gave me a sideways look. “You really think I can do it?”
    I nodded. “Uh-huh. I was kind of thinking about doing that same thing myself,” I lied. “You seen Body Heat? It’s my all-time favorite movie. I am going to do movies like that.”
    His smile faded, and he gave me a harsh look. “Yeah, right.” The sarcasm in his voice was so thick, you could stir it with a spoon. Then a sad look crossed his face, and he attempted to move away from me. But I still had my arms around his waist and his back was against the counter. “I really am going down to Hollywood. I will show you. I will show everybody. And, I don’t appreciate you coming up in my mama’s house, making fun of me! Gimme that money!” he snarled, snatching out of my hand the money that I had come to deliver to his mama.
    I stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the wobbly kitchen table. “I would never make fun of you,” I whimpered.
    That comment didn’t seem to impress him. He shot me a dirty look and started to walk away, stuffing the twenty-dollar bill he’d just taken from me into his pocket. “Look, I gotta empty the trash so Mama won’t be on my ass again,” he said, nodding toward a large trash can in the corner, by the door. “What did you really come up in here for?” he asked, with an impatient wave of his hand. “And don’t tell me it was to discuss my show business future.”
    â€œI came to return your mama’s roasting pan and to bring that money she wanted to borrow to buy her lottery tickets. Honest to God,” I said, nodding at the pan I’d placed on the kitchen counter. “And—”
    â€œAnd what?”
    â€œAnd to see if you wanted to have some fun.” I moved back up against him again, parting his legs with my knee. I didn’t care how uninterested he tried to be. That hard bulge between his thighs told me a different story.
    â€œGirl, how old are you?” the boy asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I knew he wasn’t too concerned about how young I was, because both of his hands were on my butt, squeezing and sliding up and down in such a way