Chapter One
“Where is she?”
Jackie turned to him, surprise in her eyes. “You came. I wasn’t sure you would.”
“I don’t know why not. My feelings for her are no secret. At least to you.” Jaspar tried to keep the censure out of his tone, but he wasn’t sure he’d been all that successful. He was a mass of nervous excitement. Her. Mandi. She was the one woman who … She made him harder than an aluminum bat and made his palms sweat with nothing more than a quirk of her lips.
“I know what you want, yes, but what you feel for her? No, I don’t know.”
His gaze narrowed on her face. “Jesus, Jackie, you know me better than that.”
“I do, but I’ve never seen you this way over a woman before. I want you both to be careful and not lose your heads. You’re both special to me.”
He softened toward her. “I know.” He pulled her in for a quick and a kiss to the top of her head. “I know.
She smiled up at him. “She’s in the back.”
“Good.”
“She’s not expecting you.”
Jaspar winked. “Even better.”
He walked down the long, dark hallway toward the changing room of Katz. The place was hopping tonight. There wasn’t an empty table. Jackie had done well for herself and he couldn’t have been more proud of her.
They’d grown up as foster siblings. She was the only one adopted. They’d kept in touch when she moved away and even through her college years. When he got into trouble with the law, she wrote to him still, believed in him still. She’d been the one who picked him up when they released him from prison. She gave him a job at Katz when it was only a bar and grill and was the one to introduce him to Vinter and Dallon. She was the only family he had and it was through her that he’d met Mandi.
If he were a poetic man, he’d say he was the woman of his dreams. But his dreams were wet ones. He woke up hard and so goddamn horny for the raven-haired, blue-eyed minx.
Always shy around him, she never looked him in the eye, never spoke except to ask what he wanted to eat or drink.
No, she’d given her open, beautiful smiles to his friends, to other customers, to everyone else. It only made him want her more.
He stopped at the end of the hallway, in front of the black door with the single sign that read Kittyz Only. He raised his hand to knock, but then lowered it to the doorknob. This is it, man. He slipped inside the room and flipped the lock behind him.
It was a dressing room for the waitresses. Men weren’t usually allowed inside.
Mirrors and vanities lined one of the long walls of the large space. The other held lockers and two clothes racks. It was empty, quiet. For a second, Jaz thought Jackie had been mistaken, but then he then heard humming.
She was there. Behind one of the clothes racks.
When she emerged, she was clad in a bra and the short leather skirt Jackie insisted all her girls wear. The uniforms were skimpy and left little to the imagination.
“Mandi.” Wide … Green? Jaz squinted in her direction. Her eyes were green? No, she had blue eyes. “Why do you have green eyes?” he asked, suspicious as he gazed at the bright emerald color. He didn’t think it was possible, but damn if his internal temp hadn’t jacked up a few degrees.
“Jaz. What are you doing in here?”
“Answer me. Why are your eyes green?”
She swallowed and took a step back. He bit back a curse for his harsh demand startling her. He was a big man and knew his size intimidated others. Mandi, though, she was a small woman, at least in stature. The curves she had … her hips, that ass, those tits were anything but.
“Contacts. They … they change my eyes to blue.”
“Why did you wear them?”
“Jackie,” she said. “It’s her club. She dictates how we look when we work. She already had a girl with black hair and green eyes. She wanted a girl with black hair and blue eyes.”
Jaz nodded. It would take a little getting used to, but no matter the color of her eyes, his desire for her was unchanged. His gaze traveled her body from head to toe. The red bra stood stark against her pretty pale skin.
The slight, rounded softness of her belly.
The flare of her hips inside her skirt.
The strong legs encased in knee-high platform boots … God, what else did she have on? Was there a thong under the leather? Satin? Lace?
“Jaz?”
His dick was about to push itself out of his jeans. His hands fisted at his sides and he pressed himself hard against the door at his back. He closed his eyes, tried to think of something beyond her half-naked form a few feet in front of him. He needed to get himself under control, but now that he was there, in private with her, all he could think about was …
“Jaz? Are you all right?”
She’d stepped closer. He hadn’t heard her move, couldn’t hear anything but the echo of her voice inside his head.
He took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, but it didn’t do any good. He wouldn’t be able to think or function as a normal person until he sated the lust thrumming through him. She smelled of flowers, of spice, of sweet innocence and sins.
“Jaz?”
She was even closer now, and her hand … Fuckin’-A, her hand was on his arm. It was too much. He opened his eyes a split second before he hauled her into his body, lifting her off the floor. He took her shocked mouth with his tongue.
She felt incredible against him. She was a big girl, but damn, he loved it. So. Fucking. Much. He was all hard-muscle, strong. She was all soft woman when she melted. And, man, did she ever melt.
Her tongue met his, tangled, dueled, tugged and finally sucked until he groaned and shifted her. One large hand gripped her ass. The other fisted in her hair to hold her head steady. She wrapped her legs around his hips and wiggled her heat against his denim-covered dick. He could have come right then had her hair not distracted him by coming off in his palm.
Ripping his mouth from hers, he all but dropped her. Again, she’d shocked him by not being what she appeared to be on the outside.
“A wig?” Her mouth, red and swollen from their kiss, and when she licked her lips … He had to rein in his lust. He had to get a grip. At least long enough for her to explain.
“Yes.”
“Take the pins out of your hair. Let me see what it looks like.”
She made a push at his shoulders, but he wasn’t about to give. “Put me down.”
“I had you secure when we were kissing, I can keep hold of you while you take your hair down.” They stared each other down. He dared her to deny him. Her outward appearance wasn’t altogether truthful, yet his need hadn’t diminished. He still planned to have her. “I’m not gonna drop you,” he offered in a gentler tone.
He tossed the black wig over to one of the tables and angled his arm along her back, giving her more steady support. For added measure, she tightened her legs at his hips. How many nights had he thought of her like this, with her legs wrapped around his body, clad in those boots?
She lifted her arms. For a moment, he couldn’t take his eyes off the way the move raised her breasts a scant few inches. The shadowed V between them tempted his tongue to slide down and taste her skin, but that would have to wait. One by one, the pins dropped from her fingers. Blonde curls.
Fuck.
She shook it out and finally leveled her gaze at him. Innocent. That was the first word that came to mind looking at her up close. Blonde hair. Green eyes.
Jaz growled and tightened his hold.
“Are you disappointed?”
Her voice was a whisper and her breath fanned his face. Disappointed? As if. He hadn’t thought it possible to be more turned on by her, but now … Damn. His dick was going to murder him if it didn’t get to slide up between her thighs and fuck until it hurt.
“No.”
“Mad?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Horny.”
Those green eyes widened, that sexy mouth formed a tight little O, but then she smiled, and horny wasn’t all he was. Fuck.
Then she asked, “For me?”
How could she ask him that? He was standing there, holding her in his arms with her legs holding his hips, and she was asking him if he was horny for her? He caught a glimpse of her eyes before she lowered her heavy-with-mascara lashes over them. Uncertainty mixed with heat. That was all he needed to know.
“Yeah, baby. All for you.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
Her hands were restless against his arms and her gaze fixated on his mouth.
“In part, yes. That’s why I’m here.”
He loved holding her, cradling her. What started out as gut-wrenching lust six months ago had turned into something more. Big, hulking, bald, tattooed, pierced ex-con Jaz was falling and falling hard.
He sure as hell hoped it didn’t hurt when he hit the ground.
He nipped at her chin. “That,” he nudged her with his hips. “And …” He kissed his way along her jaw until he could tug at her ear with his teeth. She moaned and tilted her head. “Happy Birthday,” he whispered low and hot. She shivered against him. Damn.
Gonna. Be. The. Fucking. Death. Of. Him.
“Jackie told you?”
He nodded and nipped at her chin again, sliding his tongue into the dimple. “She did.” He might as well lay it all out. “Truth is I’ve had a thing for you since the first night you showed up at my table. Jackie saw it. She thinks you have a bit of a thing for me , too. So, here I am.”
“Oh.” She blushed. “I do. I’ve told her. I can’t believe I’m telling you. I never imagined … Y-you’re my present?”
It spread, slow, from one corner of her lips to the other. Her smile lit up the room. The words out of her mouth weakened his knees, reminded him once more of innocence, and made his dick even harder.
“I am. For twenty-four hours, I am all yours. We can do anything, go anywhere.”
“Anything?”
Her eyes flared with heat and she shimmied in his arms, pressing down on his cock. She grinned at his strangled groan. He wasn’t even sure he could get words to pass through his lips. “I take it you know at least one thing you want to do?”
“Oh yes. Is that … Is that okay?”
So bold one minute, so shy the next. The blush that covered her cheeks showed even under all the make-up. “Damn, woman. I’m harder than a pole and you’re asking me if it’s okay to fuck?”
She ducked her head against his shoulder and laughed while nodding. A pinch on her ass had her yelping and lifting her head enough that he could capture her mouth again. Tentative for less than a moment before her tongue was between his lips and she was stealing his breath. Her arms around his neck, she pressed her bra-covered tits against his chest. Even through that layer and the layer of his t-shirt, he could feel her nipples, hard, pointing.
Jaz pushed away from the door. He walked, hobbled, stumbled as best he could to the nearest table. She lifted her mouth from his, and he allowed her to slide down his body. Those damn boots, those sexy-as-all-hell boots brought the top of her head to his shoulder where otherwise her head would fit perfect in the center of his chest.
“Turn around and put your hands on the table. Push your ass back toward me.”
She did as he told her. She pivoted on one chunky heel, flipped her blonde hair, and sent him the sexiest “Come and get me” look he’d ever seen. He couldn’t get his jeans unbuttoned fast enough. The woman wanted to fuck on her birthday. And he was more than happy to oblige her every minute of the next twenty-four hours.
“Bend over more, rest your weight on your elbows.” He inched the skirt up over her hips with his free hand, baring her ass to his view for the first time. He ached at the sight of the lace panties she wore. He wanted to rip them from her body. “Are these special?” he asked, tugging at the waistband.
“No.”
“Good. Look up in the mirror.”
She did and their eyes met. He smiled and tugged hard on the crotch of her panties, ripping a hole in the lace. The green orbs widened and he smiled, watching her. The color darkened as they dilated, and his fingers found her sex. Damn. She was soaked, as he parted the lips and delved deeper. A moan escaped, but she never looked away. She held his gaze captive by the hunger and arousal he saw staring back at him.
Her lips were swollen, both sets, and he parted the lower ones with his thumb to stroke her clit. His fingers were thick and he slid a second one inside her, stretching her. Slow and steady, he began to drive them upward.
The heels of her boots and her bent-over position had her at the right height for him to thrust forward, for him to—
“Jaz, please … Do it. Make me …”
His fist tightened on his cock in anticipation. “Make you what?”
She pushed down on his hand, bore down on his thumb and rocked back on her heels. “Come.”
“Not until I get inside you.” Even as he said the words, he curled the two fingers inside her against the soft pad of her G-spot and rubbed. Her breath caught and her knuckles turned white as she pressed her hands into the table.
“Please. I’m ready. I can’t take it, please …”
“What if I’m not ready?” Jaz teased.
“Liar. Fuck me.”
Dear God. “Say it again.”
“Liar.”
“Goddamn wench.” He tried to smile but it came across as something more feral and grimacing. “Say it.”
“Fuck me.” She rocked herself on the invading digits and he let go of his cock long enough to reach up and pop the hooks on her bra. The straps immediately slid down her arms.
“One more time. Say it, Mandi.” Jaz stepped in close, his cock brushing against her ass, sliding down, and as he pulled his fingers out, he drew some of her wetness across the crown. He bit back a curse of his own and touched the head to her vacated opening.
“Fuck. Me.”
She settled farther back on her heels and impaled herself on the first half-inch. He’d have let her keep going if she’d had something to hold on to. As it was, she didn’t. It was up to him. He gripped her hips, pushed forward, and her feet, hit the floor again as he sank inside her. The lace of her torn panties added another bit of sensation to his already sensitive cock, and the sight of it made his mouth dry.
Their groans, grunts, moans and sighs echoed off the concrete walls. He pulled back then pushed in again, letting go of her right hip to reach under her. She lifted in response. His palm closed over one of her large, oh so fucking perfect tits with the pebbled nipple tormenting him. He wanted to taste it, roll it around his tongue, nibble on it with the edges of his teeth. He wanted to grip, tug and twist it. He wanted … so many things.
Jaz leaned over her back. He pumped his hips against the softest, most incredible, out-of-this-world ass and drove his cock deep inside the hottest pussy. He kissed along her shoulder, licked up her neck, and she turned her head a fraction so he could place a kiss on her cheek. Their eyes stayed locked in the mirror and she smiled. He answered with one of his own, dropping his other hand between her legs, his big fingers reaching for her clit.
“Do you need this? Do you need this to come?” he whispered into her hair.
“Yes. Always.”
“Then give it to me.”
Her eyes flashed with a hint of laughter. “But … But it’s my birthday.”
“So. You think I should give it to you?”
“Yes. Please.”
He rubbed circles around the little button, drawing moans and gasps from between her lips. He lifted and watched his cock as he pulled back with his hips then watched it disappear inside her again. They were both covered with her juices. Each time he pulled out, more pooled inside the ripped crotch of her ruined panties.
“Now that you brought up birthday gifts, you know what that means, don’t you?”
“No.”
The thought alone was going to make him come. “It means …” He leaned down again, pressed his mouth to her ear, pulled down on her clit, and whispered, “A spanking.”
“Ooohhh.”
She shook her head at the same moment her pussy started to spasm against his cock. She moved against his thumb and forefinger. Her thrashing near violent, threatened to dislodge his cock. She bit her lip, letting out only a small whimpering moan as the orgasm quaked through her.
He couldn’t hold out anymore. The sensation, the feel of her, the sight of her, the ‘real’ her, the words “fuck me” on her lips was too much … Too much in the face of her coming all over his dick.
He let go of her clit and held her hips as he slammed into her without mercy. The sweat that had been beading on top of his bald head started to slide down the sides of his face and the back of his neck. He worked her pussy hard, rode her from behind for every ounce he was worth. He pushed her up on her toes then pulled her back on those goth-looking, fuck-me bootheels.
She was his fantasy, his goddamn dream, and then he was coming. He pulled out as the streams of ejaculate started up his cock. All over the back of her already destroyed panties, all over the underside of her denim skirt, he came.
His grunts of pleasure were incoherent, and the blood pounding in his ears was loud, drowning out all else. She was gonna kill him with lust. And he couldn’t think of a better way to go.
“Did you mean it?”
Her voice sounded very far away, given the buzzing in his brain. “Huh?”
She giggled. “Did you mean it?”
He couldn’t think straight, much less string two words together, and she was giggling. Jaz took a deep breath then another and still a few more before he started to calm. “Did I mean what?”
“What you said about birthday spankings.”
He met her eyes in the mirror again, and for a moment couldn’t figure out what the look in hers was. Fear? Excitement? “Yes. Why?”
“No reason.”
“Liar.” He stepped back and tucked his cock back in his jeans. “Can you stand?” He offered his hand and she took it, holding tight, letting him pull her up. She started to wobble, but he caught her around the waist. He tugged her around to face him, holding her against his chest. It was the perfect opportunity to tilt her head up and plant a kiss on that lovely mouth. She hummed and smiled.
“Jaz?”
God but he loved hearing his name from her lips. “Hmmm?”
“I’m starving.”