I COULDN’T TURN MY EYES away. I wanted her, needed her . . . and desired her. One glimpse into her big, curious eyes and my cock twitched, wanting a fucking taste.
When I saw her watching me, I wanted to rip that tight little skirt off of her and tie her to the wall as I bury myself deep between those trembling thighs. I want her to feel me; every fucking inch of me.
Feeling the madness build up inside of me, I walk back over to the bar, grab it, and do pull ups until my arms are shaking so hard that I can no longer hold on.
The music has since faded out upstairs, letting me know that it’s well into the night now. This is when I know it’s okay to come out of this cage I’ve put myself in. Avoiding people at all costs was my damn plan tonight, but someone decided to fuck that up, and now I need some fresh air to breathe.
Reaching for my leather jacket, I throw it on and pull out a cigarette, before shoving the rest of the pack into my pocket.
I light the cigarette, taking a long drag as I make my way through the dark house and outside to where my Harley is parked out back.
Letting the smoke fill my lungs for the first time in twelve hours, I walk around my bike and inspect it for damage. I have zero trust for the assholes that come into my home, but I allow it for Jax.
He can be reckless sometimes, but he’s done a pretty decent job with keeping my shit together, both here and at the bar. I have to be thankful for that shit.
Seeing that there’s no damage, I toss my cigarette aside and straddle my bike, speeding off into the dark night. Feeling the wind on my face is one of the only two good feelings that I have left. The other one is fucking, and even that I don’t enjoy sometimes. I do it as a quick escape from my fucked up head.
Pulling up at my bar, Savage & Ink, I park my bike and pull out my key, letting myself in through the back door.
The place smells of old cigarette smoke and a freshly smoked blunt. I can hear Blaine, along with at least four other voices as I make my way past the tattoo parlor and into the bar.
Blaine nods his head in my direction when he notices that I’ve now joined them. “Hey, Royal. What’s good, motherfucker?”
I nod my head in greeting and take a seat on one of the old, leather stools. I empty out my jacket pocket onto the stool next to me and get comfortable. “Whiskey. A whole fucking bottle.”
The bar closed about forty minutes ago, yet three guys and some blonde female in a small, skin tight dress are occupying one of the tables, looking baked out of their damn minds. I was expecting the place to be empty. I can’t deal with people today. All I wanted was one fucking night to grieve for Riley and I can’t even get that shit; not in my own home or my own damn bar.
“Who the fuck are they?” I question Blaine when he returns with a bottle of whiskey and an empty glass.
He walks around the bar and answers me as I pour myself a much-needed glass. “My guy Jake and a few of his friends. I told them it was cool to hang out as long as they were paying for shit and not messing anything up. They’re good business, man. I didn’t think you’d be coming in tonight. Sorry.”
I raise a brow and throw back my glass of whiskey, almost emptying it completely. “I want them out by the time I leave tonight. No more of the shit like last time.”
“I know, man. They’re cool. I promise. Just enjoy that fucking whiskey and chill.”
I lean back in my stool and watch them, not trusting them for shit. I’ve never seen them in my life. That makes it pretty obvious that they have no fucking clue who I am, and I don’t like that one bit; not when in my place of business so late at night.
The blonde female looks my way and bites her bottom lip, as if just noticing me. Her legs slightly part and she sits up straight, as if trying to push her tits out.
“Damn,” Blaine hisses. “Looks like Kellie has you in her sights now. That bitch can give a mean blowjob and she’s picky as fuck about who she gives them to.” He pushes my arm and adjusts his dick, while watching her lick her lips. “I blew my shit within three minutes the other night. That’s unheard of for me.”
I don’t say anything. I just watch her, watching me as if she wants to eat me for a fucking midnight snack.
Getting bored with her, I turn around in my stool and pour myself another glass. Just as I pick up the glass and bring it to my lips, I feel a hand touch my arm and gently caress it.
Fuck . . .
I keep my head straight, but turn my eyes to my left, looking her up and down. She may not be as hot as the beautiful brunette that barged her way into my room tonight, but she’s definitely doable, and I need all the stress relief I can get right now.
Cutting straight past the bullshit, I stand, look her in the eyes, and then start walking while tilting back my drink to get to the right amount of numbness that I need.
Cracking my neck, I set my empty glass down on the nearest table and disappear into the office, knowing that she’ll fucking follow. They always do.
When I turn around, Kellie, as Blaine called her, is walking through the door with a seductive ass look in her eyes.
“Close it,” I demand. “But don’t fucking lock it.” I hate locked doors. I like to have easy access in case there’s ever a problem I need to deal with.
She does as told and walks over to stand in front of me as I lean against my desk and light a cigarette.
Taking a drag, I place my hand on her throat and squeeze. She lets out a surprised gasp and then smiles, as she looks me in the eyes.
Not wanting to start up a conversation and have fucking small talk, I push down on her head until she’s on her knees in front of me, reaching for my belt.
After the way I was left feeling a couple of hours ago, I need this shit right now.
I grip the desk with one hand and hold my cigarette to my mouth with the other as I feel her tongue swirl around my tip, before she takes me into her mouth, gagging as she adjusts to my size.
Blaine was right. She does give a mean blowjob, but there’s no way this chick will have me blowing anytime soon.
Twenty minutes of her mouth on my cock and I’m still not relieved. She keeps going faster and harder, taking me deeper until she’s choking and digging her nails into my thighs. It’s still not doing what I need.
Without a knock the door flings open and Blaine pokes his head inside. “Dude, what the fuck? It’s been like twenty minutes.”
I grab the back of Kellie’s head and take charge myself, holding her head still as I thrust into her mouth.
“Get the fuck out, asshole. Now.”
Blaine takes a second to watch us and moans, before finally shutting the door and disappearing. He always finds some kind of fucking excuse to barge in when I’m getting off in my damn office. Horny little shit. He takes advantage of the fact that I hate locked doors.
Right after he closes the door, I stand up straight and tangle my hands into her hair, thrusting one more time before holding her still as I shoot my hot cum down her throat.
She swallows and wipes her mouth off as she stands up and fixes her now wild hair. “Fuck . . . my mouth is numb,” she complains.
“Yeah, and so is my dick.”
She smiles, ignoring my comment, and runs her hands down my thighs seductively. “How long do you need before we fuck? I can go all night, babe.”
I tilt my head toward the door. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Tell Blaine I said to make you a fucking drink on me,” I say in dismissal.
A flash of disappointment crosses her face as she fixes her hair one last time, and then walks out the door mumbling.
I sit in the dark for a good fifteen minutes before washing up and joining Blaine and the others back in the bar. I don’t really want them here, but I’ll deal for as long as I can.
Blaine is too busy talking to his guy Jake behind the bar to notice what’s going on over at the table, but it’s the first thing my eyes land on.
Lines of blow cover the table, accompanied by a pile of cash and a little plastic bag.
The guy with a green flannel is leaning over the table, getting ready to sample the goods.
“Get your trash the fuck out of here,” I say firmly. “Do that shit somewhere else.”
I don’t trust fuckers that I don’t know.
The guy in the flannel laughs and says, “Fuck off,” before leaning completely over and snorting the whole line. He stands up when done and smirks. “Don’t know who the fuck you are.”
I hear Blaine stammer, “Oh shit,” at the same time that I make my way over to the table and grab the asshole by the back of the neck, hard.
Clenching my jaw, I move my hand up to the back of his head and slam it into the table, repeatedly, until all of their merchandise is scattered around the table and floor, his face covered in blood.
One of his friends comes at me, but I pull out my knife and place the blade against his throbbing neck.
I feel Blaine grip my shoulder, but I ignore him, pressing my lips beside the little bitch’s ear, letting him know that he’s fucked with the wrong person tonight. “This is my fucking bar, and I said get your trash the fuck out. Don’t make me repeat myself again. I hate repeating myself.”
I slam his head into the table one last time to make sure he gets the message, before releasing him and turning to his friend, who is now standing with his hands up.
“Get the fuck out of here.” I point to the table and start walking over to pour myself another drink, before I end up killing one of these assholes. “Clean that shit up first.”
Blaine approaches me, but I throw him a look that tells him he’s about to lose his life if he takes another step. Tonight is not the fucking night to cross me.
He backs off, knowing not to push me right now. I know it’s not his fault, but he knows how I feel about strangers dealing drugs in my motherfucking bar.
That shit has already fucked me over once. It’s what got me here in the first place . . .