Maci
Capone got the job done again, I’ll give him that much at least. Not a mind-blowing orgasm, but good enough he scratched the itch I’d been dealing with since first seeing him a few weeks ago at the grocery store.
Thick black hair, vibrant blue eyes, and a sexy beard … a solid six feet of pretty boy hotness any woman would love to fuck—even if he did sport a ring in both his eyebrow and lip. We’d struck up a conversation the third time running into each other at the store, and when he asked to take me out for a beer, I’d jumped on the chance to do something for myself for a change—even though I knew guilt would eat me alive later. I also agreed since he seemed the type who’d want to be balls deep inside of me before night’s end, and it’d been one hell of a long time since I’d gotten laid.
He wasn’t really my type personality-wise. Happy-go-lucky and vanilla is all good and well, but I preferred the broody, sullen man who needed a reason to smile, whose stare brought all sorts of fantasies to mind. Like the blond giant downstairs with the scar and scowl, both of which shone clearly through his light beard. The thought he might enjoy some rope play. Offer a little pain with the pleasure the huge bulge in his jeans promised. Hands wrapped around my neck, releasing endorphins to create an unforgettable climax I’d yet to experience. Make me forget the reality of my life for a while.
Damn. My pussy contracted at the thought of him. I’d yet to meet someone who could satisfy my cravings for … a bit more in the sack. Not that I had much time to check out the fish in the sea with Mom being sick.
“Here ya go, darlin’.” Capone handed me some tissues and collapsed onto the bed beside me.
“Pretty convenient,” I said after cleaning up.
He turned his head toward me, his blue eyes rimmed by dark, thick lashes a woman would kill for. “The rooms?”
“Yeah.”
“Lots of whores. Lots of brothers.” He shrugged. “Need some place to go.”
“You have a cleaning lady or something?”
“Jonny’s cousin. She’s in and out most of the day picking up after us.”
I grimaced. Cleaning up after a bunch of bikers fucking their way through every club whore and date they could get up the stairs… “Can’t say I envy her.”
Capone laughed. “She’s a sweetheart. A bit older, single, and motherly-type.”
“Still.” I huffed, taking in the simplistic room. Definitely made for fucking and little more. No pictures on the gray walls. No decoration or flair. A simple bathroom with hotel-style necessities and white, fluffy towels.
I turned my attention back on the muscled man-beef stretched out beside me. A right-nice slab, but… “You boys ever share?” I asked, wondering at maybe fulfilling one of my fantasies.
“Sometimes, yeah.”
Damn. I bit on my lower lip, contemplating the conversation I’d had with a few other guys who got me into bed but weren’t interested beyond a vanilla wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. “Spanking? Bondage?”
One of his brows rose. “You into that?”
My turn to shrug. “Thought about it. Haven’t done it, no.”
“Shit.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over one of his thick, tattoo-less pecs. “I should have invited Digger up here with us. Sounds like you two would get along.”
“Digger?”
“One of my brothers. He’s into that sort of shit. We’ve shared women a few times.”
“You’ll have to introduce us.” I let the thought fly since Capone himself had told me he wasn’t looking to get tied down. A player if ever I’d met one.
He laughed again, his gaze sliding down over my nakedness. Rolling to his side, he reached out and pulled me close. “Next time.” A few brushes of lips, and he deepened the kiss. The man knew how to use his lips and tongue—no fucking doubt. My engine considered turning over again, but I couldn’t get my damn mind off the blond I stared at both times Capone had brought me to the club.
I pulled back, licking my lips. “I could go for a beer.”
His smile and twinkling eyes should have melted my heart. “Sure.”
“Up for a game of pool?” I asked while grabbing my jeans off the floor.
“I’ll kick your ass.”
I snorted a laugh while checking my cell phone for calls, relieved to not find any. “You can try.”
Two minutes later, I followed Capone back down to the club. I swung my gaze toward the pool tables, but same as Thursday night, no Blondy. A quick glance around the club revealed he must have left when we’d gone upstairs. Or, else he went upstairs with one of the club whores.
A slither of jealousy twisted my stomach, but I pursed my lips. I had no right or reason to be jealous seeing as how I’d never said two words to the hot man-beef and had just fucked one of his brothers again. Beers in hand, we made for the only available pool table.
Capone grabbed a handful of my ass as he passed me. “Gotta get me more of this,” he whispered in my ear.
I smiled, wishing his words turned on my pussy juice faucet rather than just made me tingle. Not cutting it…
Heaving a sigh, I swigged from my beer and sat it on one of the bistro tables beside the cue rack. While I was no pool shark, I could sink a ball or two—as long as they weren’t combo or bank shots. Who was I kidding? I sucked at pool and only suggested playing because of Blondy—and the fact the thought of another round with Capone didn’t tickle my clit.
Blowing a breath between my lips, I grabbed a stick. That tingle of awareness I’d felt when we first walked into the club Thursday night licked at my skin. I turned around.
Blondy stood in the stairwell. Alone. Staring at me as though he wanted to devour every inch of me and then some.
Hot damn and hallelujah, my faucet squeaked open, and I squeezed my thighs together. Yes, please, and then a little more. I smiled and shifted my weight onto one leg to pop my hip out. Might as well work my curves, right?
I cast a glance at Capone, who racked the balls, and Blondy started toward us. My heartbeat kicked up a few paces, sending jitters clear through to my toes.
“Capone,” the non-jolly blond giant said, his deep voice sending a spasm through my pussy.
My date for the night lifted his head and grinned. “Wondered where you got to. Someone you need to meet.” Capone nodded toward me. “Maci, this is Digger. Digger, Maci.”
Well tie me up and fuck me upside down. I tried not to grin like an idiot and probably failed.
Digger moved close and stuck his hand out.
The fresh scent of laundry detergent wafted off him with enough maleness to make my mouth water. “Nice to meet you,” I said, my voice breathless and hand shaking as I peered way up into his face.
He didn’t smile, but the lust in those dark eyes weakened my knees. His warm palm swallowed my hand, sending an unfamiliar flicker of flames up over my arm and down to my nipples. “You, too.”
We lingered in our physical connection, the lousy choice of music from the overheads muffled in my brain. Digger. Blondy.
My night was about to get a hell of a lot better. Fuck the guilt eating at my stomach.