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Hammered: A Shadows of Chicago Novel by Rose Hudson (5)

 

 

 

I FEEL LIKE YOU STARTED something on that roof and I need to finish it.” I take a step closer and she presses her hands against the wall behind her. “What do you think?”

She chews at her lip, looking down briefly before looking straight into my eyes.

“I think I thought of way too many things I wanted you to do to me to just let my imagination go to waste.”

Well, fuck me.

I take her by the waist and carry her to the bed, setting her on the edge. When I reach for the buckle of my belt, she stops me, taking control and doing it for me. I told her earlier that she didn’t seem like the kind of woman who did things like this, and I meant it. So, when she takes control so quickly, it surprises me. I reach down and run the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip.

“What did your imagination come up with?”

She pauses with her fingers on the zipper of my pants but returns to the task just as quickly, my dick mere inches from her mouth as she eases the fabric down my hips slowly. I can see the wheels in her head turn as she thinks of what parts she wants to tell me.

“And don’t just tell me the parts you want me to hear, tell me all of it.”

She’s gorgeous.

Her skin is so untouched, unmarred by age or past lovers and it makes me want to mess up that perfection. I want to change and rearrange the perfect symmetry of all of it. Leave my mark on her.

I step out of my pants pooled at my ankles, exposing myself to her completely now. She doesn’t shy away. Instead she reaches for the band of her thong to take it off, but I stop her.

“I’ll take care of this. You talk.” I cup her sex through the fabric, running my middle finger up the center of her as I do, feeling the warm heat of her dampening the silk. The bold woman from the rooftop is slipping away and I want to bring her back, share in the control for once. I rub her clit lightly through the fabric of her thong.

“I imagined you kissing up my inner thighs,” she says.

I lean in closer and begin placing kisses on the soft skin of her thighs and I hear her breathing change. I look up at her, encouraging her to continue. She may not be a talker in the sack today, but when I’m done, she will be tomorrow.

She licks her lips and continues. “And you let the stubble of your jaw graze my skin as you move up.”

I feather my lips along her skin, letting stubble on my chin bring goose bumps as I reach her pussy, breathing her in. When I grab the silk of her panties and pull it tight between the lips of her sex, she moans. I love the fucking sound of it. I lick the bare lips on either side of the fabric and I feel the slightest rise of her hips as she inhales sharply.

Talk to me, goddess.

Pulling up, stretching the silk tight against her, I decide that I’m not being rough enough with sweet Lydia. Maybe she needs a little pain with her pleasure. I graze my teeth along the lips of her pussy, following with the flat of my tongue.

“Yesssss.” She pushes the word through her teeth.

Closer.

I bite and suck at her skin, followed by long, heavy licks until she gives me her words.

“God, that’s so much better than what I imagined,” she breathes out. I grin like the wicked fuck I am.

“I was just getting acquainted.” I sit up on my knees, reaching down to grab her panties and ripping the band at either hip. “Now I’d like to quit fucking around.”

She looks almost frightened as I dive back between her legs, her pussy bare and ripe for my taking with no obstructions to protect her from my mouth.

My tongue runs the full length of her in a broad, slow stroke. She’s already so damn wet that I can imagine what sinking into her will feel like and my dick wants inside her. I suck her clit into my mouth with firm suction, holding it gently between my teeth and flicking with my tongue. She runs her hand through my hair and tugs, lifting her hips off the bed, and I know she’s close. I push first one, then two fingers inside of her.

“Faster.”

I push my fingers deeper.

“More, please.”

With more pressure, I bite each lip of her sex, soothing with deep licks of my tongue just as quickly. I feel her tighten around my fingers as I stroke just inside, with one circle of my thumb over her clit and two pumps of my fingers, she falls over the edge, gripping her tits tightly as she does. I want to taste them—all of her. I move quickly up onto my knees, taking a nipple into my mouth, her lips parting.

Her lips. It seems so fucking intimate and I’m not intimate. But when the wetness from her tongue glistens from the reflection of the city lights seeping through the window, I suddenly want to eat Chicago from her lips.

Her hands are in my hair and mine move under her back pulling the hair at her nape and exposing her neck to me. My nips are light and my tongue heavy on her skin as I drink in the smell of her, like vanilla and sugar. She makes me hungry and not for food.

I lay my body flush against hers and the head of my cock meets her wetness. I toy with her, her eyes meeting mine as I do.

“Do you want to wait? Do this another time?” I say, grinning to hide how bad I want to plow into her like she’s at my mercy, as I roll the rubber down my dick.

She surprises me and pulls my face closer, sucking my lip into her mouth before saying, “I think you should fuck me now.”

And I do.

It’s like a fucking anthem starts playing in the background of my mind, like I’m warming up in the corner of the ring and they’re playing my song over the loud speaker because I’m about to fuck some shit up. I am about to fuck some shit up. I’m about to fucking break this girl and I can’t stop myself. It’s impossible.

“So much better than…” she murmurs and her voice drifts as she bites the flesh of my shoulder. We’re fucking crazy when our lips reconnect, teeth and tongues. With every thrust my blood runs hotter, faster, chasing this release, but wanting to keep coming back every time. Leaning up on my knees, I pull the backs of her thighs flush against my chest, her knees over my shoulders.

The sound of our skin colliding, the bounce of her gorgeous tits with every pound of my hips. My fucking balls tighten almost painfully at the sensation that builds greater than I can remember it ever feeling. I reach down and run my thumb over her nipple, grabbing the flesh around it and squeezing. Her eyes darken and she reaches down to touch herself where we’re joined together.

It brings out the animal in me.

Placing my feet on the floor, I grab her legs and pull her to the edge, turning her over and putting her feet flat on the floor. My chest meets her back and I whisper in her ear.

“When we fuck, I take care of you.” I ease back inside her, pulling out and loving how fucking wet she is, loving the way she glistens off my dick between us. “I want to make you come. It makes my dick very happy.”

Her arm comes up, hand gripping at my thighs. She pushes her ass back into me, meeting my hard thrusts with her own, and I know she wants to make my dick happy. My fingers gripping her hips, she bends at the waist and stretches her arms above her head on the bed. Her gorgeous fucking ass bounces with every hammer of my hips. The force in which I fuck her is—hands down, the hardest I’ve ever given it and her body begs for more, pulling me in and gripping me tightly.

“God. Yes. Harder.” Her words are clipped and punctuated, hands gripping the sheets and hips pushing back to meet mine. This gorgeous creature likes it just as rough as I do and I’m not so sure she knew that until just now because every time our eyes meet over her shoulder I see unknown desire. “Stone…I’m coming.” That’s all my dick needed to hear because I’m right behind her, heat barreling down my back and I come with a roar.

My hands meet the bed on either side of her for support and it’s all I can do to hold myself up. I catch my breath and run the tip of my nose up the center of her back, watching the goose bumps cascade across her skin.

“So good.” She’s panting, words coming out chopped and breathy.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” She is. Endorphins pour out of me, pricking my skin while adrenaline and the best fucking orgasm rolls through me even after I empty myself. I feel a drop of sweat roll across my skin. I’ve had fucking workouts lately that didn’t even make me sweat.

Realizing I’m still planted inside her, I pull out and she emits a quiet gasp. I remove the condom when she rolls to her back and she shies away, turning her head to look out the window instead.

Pillow talk isn’t my thing, and usually it’s not for the Elite women I meet with, but her innocence to this lifestyle makes this feel like anything but.

I check the time on the desktop clock; 2:00 a.m.

It would take me twenty minutes to get home from here normally, but in the late hours of New Year’s Eve, it would likely double.

What would it hurt if I crawl back in bed with her and get a couple hours sleep before jetting? It looks damn comfortable from where I’m standing.

“Thank you.” Her voice breaks the silence.

I crawl under the covers and press against her, propping up on an elbow to look at her as she turns to look at me.

“Don’t thank me. Fuck, I should be thanking you.” I kiss her shoulder.

“Really?” Her eyes fall shut when she says the word, like she immediately regrets saying it.

“What made you come to the party tonight?”

“I trust Helaena,” she pauses, considering her next words. “I’ll admit, because I’m sure it’s pretty obvious anyway, but I’ve never had a true one-night stand. So, saying it took a little self-convincing to get me here is probably an understatement.”

I nod, understanding.

“I’ve only been a member for a year, but I’ve enjoyed it.”

She giggles, her eyes saying no kidding as she cocks an eyebrow at me. I tickle her side.

“Now, don’t get me wrong. I know I’m a guy and we have a reputation and all, but I was a little leery of the initial idea of it all. Women usually aren’t wired that way, you know?”

She nods. “Yeah, especially when you’ve been raised to think it’s immoral.”

We fall silent for a long beat and I’m still uncertain if I should stay or go, and I find the answer to that question hinging on one thing.

“So how do you feel about it?”

She looks up at me, realizing what I’m asking.

“The sex was amazing and it seems so easy to just call each other whenever we want sex. But the thought of sleeping with multiple people who are actively sleeping with multiple people at the same time? I just don’t know if it’s for me.” She looks up at me and I guess the look on my face says something other than what I’m thinking because panic sets in her features and her words rush out in a hurry. “But don’t worry, seriously, Stone. I know this is your lifestyle and that this was a one-time thing—”

My phone begins to ring and she stops talking, looking up at me.

“My phone never rings this late. I need to get this,” I say as I get up off the bed and grab my phone from the desk. “Hello?”

“I’m trying to reach a Stone Keeling.”

“Who’s calling?”

“This is Officer Johnson calling from CPD North and we’ve got a Rush Keeling here.”

Of course, it would be one of my brothers fucking up. And by brothers, I mean Thorn, but for once it’s not. What the hell is Rush doing on the north side? I look over to Lydia who’s now sitting up in the bed, a worry riddled look across her face. Gritting my teeth, I answer the officer.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

By the time I reach the police station, my jaw feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it I’ve ground my teeth so hard. For the most part, Rush is a good kid, great even.

So, for me to get a call at three a.m. from the fucking police station stating that my seventeen-year-old brother has been arrested for drinking, fighting and gambling on New Year’s Eve in north side Chicago, there has to be a major problem. In fact, I can’t believe the little fucker was brave enough to call me. I’m sure he tried to call Thorn first, but couldn’t get ahold of him. Figures.

“Can I help you?” the older woman says from behind the glass enclosure.

“I received a call saying my brother’s been picked up.”

“The name?”

“Rush Keeling.”

She picks up a desk phone and punches in a few numbers. “I have someone at the front for a Rush Keeling,” she says into the phone before placing the receiver back in its place. “Come through this door. I’ll buzz you back.”

I nod in understanding and walk to the metal door, pulling on the handle as the buzzer sounds. When I round the corner of the short hallway, I see Rush sitting in a holding room with other criminals of the night, and my stomach rolls.

“You here for the troublemaker?” a heavyset man behind the desk asks as I approach.

“Rush Keeling.” When I say Rush’s name, he turns and looks at me, face falling in disappointment.

“I’ve got a few papers for you to sign and then he’s free to go.”

I don’t say one word to him as we made our way out of the station, but by the time we get to my truck, I want to explode. Before he can get in, I slam both my hands on the hood, causing him to pause, but he still won’t look at me.

“What the fuck, Rush?”

“Don’t even start, man. Really.”

I make my way over to him and get in his face. “Don’t start? You’re joking. I mean, you’ve got to be because if Jerry were here, you’d be picking your ass up off the fucking ground. So, you might need to keep that in mind.”

“Having you here isn’t much different than Jerry these days.” His words are like a punch to the head.

“Is that why I’m the one here to pick your dumbass up, then?”

“You’re here because I couldn’t get ahold of Thorn.”

I stare at him, seeing in his emotionless expression that he’s being honest as he always is. Straightening a little, I move around him, walking to the driver’s side and opening the door.

“Get in.”

Knowing that Celia would flip if she woke up and Rush wasn’t there, I decide to take him home instead of my house.

“Listen, Rush. You know all I want for you is to be better than I—”

“No, maybe you need to listen. I know all you’ve ever wanted for me is to do better than you and blah blah, but what pisses me off is that nobody ever considers what the fuck I want. Do they? Maybe I want to fight? And maybe I’m pretty fucking good at it.”

I’m stunned as I cut the headlights and pull into Celia and Jerry’s driveway. I put the truck into park and look over at him, grabbing his elbow as he grabs the handle to get out.

“Hold up. How would you know you’re pretty fucking good at it? Has Jerry been getting you fights? I swear to God, Rush—”

“Jerry has nothing to do with it. I needed to make some money. That’s it.”

“If you needed money, why didn’t you just come to me? And what’s going on? You aren’t in trouble, are you?”

His head hangs a little and his voice comes out calm and collected when he speaks this time.

“I’m almost grown. When are you going to start living your own life? I feel like I’m the one who should be worried about you.” He opens the door and steps down, looking at me. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m going to fight, Stone.”

My tongue catches in my throat and I don’t say anything before he closes the door and walks to the front door. I stare dumbfounded at the dark house until I see his light turn on in his bedroom window and then off again.

Of all the ways I’ve imagined Rush following mine and Thorn’s footsteps, I never thought it would be of his own accord instead of Jerry’s insistence. I slam the steering wheel.

Why can’t he see that it’s not the fighting I’ve tried to keep him from, it’s the politics. It’s the down and dirty bastards that capitalize from your skill while you take all the risks.

I’ve spent the last year in recovery from the thirteen years of bare-knuckle fights I’ve put my body through and he’s been around for all of it. Thorn’s no different. Only ten years under his fighting belt, yet just as many injuries.

So, with perfect examples of what fighting can do for you right in front of him, why would this life be so fucking appealing?

A horn honks from behind me and I look up to see the light at the end of Celia and Jerry’s street is green. I grab my phone as I make it through the intersection, bringing it to the steering wheel and checking for messages, but there aren’t any.

Fucking brothers. Speaking of…

It rings three times before an answer comes. “Happy New Year!”

“Yeah, Thorn. Real fucking happy about it. Where are you?”

The music in the background of his call is so loud that I find myself yelling into the phone.

“Downtown. About to head to the ho-tel. Where are you?” he sings his words, only managing to piss me off further.

“Just dropped Rush off at home. He got picked up for a list of shit and called me since he couldn’t reach you.” The background noise of music and people quiet as what sounds like a car door closing slams shut.

“What do you mean a list of shit?”

“Look, I’ll talk to you at the gym tomorrow. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t fucking up before I crawl into another bed that I don’t plan on getting out of.” I’m sure the grit of my jaw is evident in my voice, but I don’t care right now. Thorn parties like a fucking rock star whether it’s New Year’s Eve or not.

“Another bed? Holy shit, did you fulfill the prophecy tonight you dirty fucker?”

“Get some sleep, Thorn.” I hang up.

He better be there tomorrow.

The drive to my house in West Loop seems like it takes forever, but the welcome I get from Bruno is worth it.

“Hey boy.” I pat him down, ruffling his big floppy ears. When I bought this place, I found him under the house when I was fixing a water leak. He was a puppy and I didn’t know if he was ever going to grow because for a bloodhound, he seemed to stay smaller than normal. But God, now he’s huge and when he jumps up on his hind legs to lick me, he’s nearly as tall as I am. I throw my suit jacket over the stair railing and walk to the kitchen. “Of course, your bowl’s empty. You eat too much.” He tilts his head, listening to me ramble. “You’ll get more after our run in the morning. Right now, it’s bedtime.” I look at the clock on the microwave. Motherfucker.

I grab a bottle of water and twist off the cap, drinking as I make my way up the stairs.

I pull back the covers to my bed and start shedding clothes, tossing them in the direction of my hamper, not one of them making it. Bruno sniffs at each of the pieces thoroughly as I climb in the bed. I know he smells her on my clothes because I still smell her all around me.

“I know she smells good, dude.” His big floppy ears swing toward me as he turns to look at me. “Bed, Bruno.” As if to drive his point home, he takes two more sniffs before coming to lie in his bed on the floor beside me. “Night, boy.”

I roll over on my side, dread getting up before I even close my eyes. Three hours sleep.

But when I bring my hand up to the pillow by my head I smell her still on my fingers and it makes me smile as I drift off to sleep.

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