JACK
Music pounds from the floor-to-wall speakers, radiating outward. The waves shake into my leg, traveling upward to bury somewhere in my chest. The bass plays my rib cage like a drum, and I lift the cool glass to my lips—I don’t remember what the fuck I’m drinking—and I tilt my head back. A vague burning sensation fills my mouth as multicolored lights bleed into each other.
Jesus, I’m wasted.
I’m wasted a lot lately.
A hand pounds my shoulder really fucking hard, and I turn around, glass in hand. The whole world turns with me in swirls of color. I’m ready to smash the drink in his face, but it’s only François. He gives me a look that boils my blood. That upturned nose and those haughty eyes condemn me.
Go ahead and judge me, you fuck.
Like anyone in my position would be sober.
His mouth moves, and it takes a few seconds to work out what he’s saying. “Are you ready to go?”
“Am I balls deep in some chick right now?”
He rolls his eyes.
“I came here to get laid, and I’m not leaving until that happens.”
We went out tonight celebrating my last night of freedom, but so far it’s a fucking letdown. Johnny’s axe hangs over my neck, and I keep thinking about that instead of scoring easy pussy.
“Keeping the boss waiting isn’t smart, Jack.”
Fuck the boss.
François’s jovial face falls ever so slightly as heat rises to my skin. It’s almost as if I said it out loud. Maybe I would say it if I had a death wish, but I don’t want to think about that piece of shit right now. My head turns, swimming in colors and perfume and the hundreds of bodies, smashed together. Ignoring him, I slide into the thick of the dance floor. I came here for pussy. One last wild night.
Used to be that I had wild nights every fucking night. A new day, a new girl. Easy and simple is how I like it, and getting a hot piece of ass to follow me to bed was never hard. A roll of cash and a few soft words on their ears would usually do the trick, but some girls don’t go for that. Some girls want me to whisper something dirty in their ears. They want the filth. They want me to talk about making them come with my tongue. I’ll tell them how big my dick is. None of them believe me, and then it’s easy to persuade them to go somewhere so that I can show them privately. Some of them are wild for action. They want excitement in their lives. Then all I have to do is show the gun hanging at my hip and tell them that I work “in construction,” and they’re mine for the evening.
There are beautiful girls everywhere, wearing shorts with tattered strings that brush over the swell of their nicely tanned asses, just begging for a squeeze. A tall blonde pushes her hair back shyly and smiles at me, but she’s not really my type. Nice tits though. I keep squeezing my way through, but it’s impossible to be heard, and I’m not about to throw a girl over my shoulder and walk out.
This isn’t working. There are too many lights and sounds. Frankly I’m in danger of falling on my ass, and heat presses in on me from all sides. I feel like I’m in a straitjacket. By the time I make my way back to the bar, François is gone. He fucked off somewhere. Good.
The bartender looks up as I arrive, making me a drink before I can even sit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to take advantage of me. She knows who I am—the people I’m connected to. That alone keeps the drinks flowing all night.
I sit down on the small black stool and eye the poured drink ruefully. There’s no fucking way I can have another one, not when I don’t even feel like I have limbs anymore.
“Hey.”
A timid, feminine voice filters through the bullshit blasting on the speakers, and I turn my head to the left.
Wow.
It’s like a mirage. A stunning girl sits on the stool next to mine. It takes a while for me to get the details of her into focus, like the white spaghetti-strap tank top she’s wearing, and the little red flowers decorating it. Her tits are perky and I have to resist the urge to look at her cleavage. She makes my cock throb. I look down her thin waist to the jeans sticking to her ass like skin and then back to her face. Long, highlighted blonde hair brushes her slight, feminine shoulders. She has a vulnerable look about her that is completely at odds with her amazing body. Her eyes are wide and blue, and there’s a small dusting of freckles on her nose and cheeks. A girl like her should be brimming with confidence, but instead she plays with her glass, her rose-painted fingernails running up the sides incessantly. It’s my job to notice people’s weaknesses. To assess and exploit. It’s my bread and butter, so to speak. This girl screams “inexperienced,” and my dick jumps at the thought of being the one to break her—to shove my cock inside her tight pussy and watch her shatter as I take her wide-eyed innocence.
“Hey, sexy.” Goddamn it, I’m still drunk as hell.
Thankfully she just smiles at me, laughter all over her face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Hello.
“Oh, that’s one thing I already know.”
She laughs, a bell-like sound. “Do you want to have a drink with me?”
You can do anything you want to me, baby.
I study her jittering ankle. She’s nervous. That’s cute. A smile spreads across my face, and I beckon to her with a finger. “Come here.”
Pink rises in her cheeks as she hesitantly slides off the stool and takes a few steps toward me. I grab her wrist and yank her forward so that her body stumbles and then I pull her over my lap. She wraps her arms around my neck with a surprised gasp.
“I’d rather have a taste of you.”
For a moment she just eye-fucks me as the tiny freckles dotting her nose burn. My hands snake around her waist and I feel the heat of her burning through the thin fabric of her camisole.
“That’s a pretty good line.”
“Give me a fucking kiss.”
I love feeling the weight of her on my lap. Her hair tickles my skin as she leans forward, her pale lips hovering over my face. Sweetness flows over my tongue as I catch her bottom lip, crushing my mouth against hers. A spicy, ginger smell wafts from her hair, which is as smooth as silk. There’s nothing like having a gorgeous woman on your lap. Nothing like having a gorgeous naked woman on your lap, playing with your clothes and ready to do your bidding. Fuck, my slacks tighten just thinking about it. I want to feel her smooth skin gliding in my hands, and I want her to feel my rock-hard cock riding against her bare ass. Thank God I don’t get whiskey dick.
She pulls away from me before I can stick my tongue down her throat. I watch how she sucks in breath through those small pink lips that I’d love to see wrapped around my cock. She’s close enough to kiss again. Close enough to do anything I want, which is to drag my tongue down her neck to her milky cleavage.
Look at her tits. Do it.
But I force myself to hold her gaze. My heart does a small flip when her lips pull away, revealing a row of white, even teeth. Damn, she has a beautiful smile.
“You’re a very good kisser.”
Blood pounds in my head, my vision still swimming with booze. “There are a lot of other things I’m good at. Want me to show you?”
A laughing, sweet smile fills her face, as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Let’s have a drink.”
Disappointment settles in my guts and then I realize that she just wants to talk bullshit for a while so that she feels less bad about her one-night stand.
“I can’t have another drink. Look at me.”
“You don’t look very drunk.”
“Trust me, I am.”
But not drunk enough to not see how the skin on top of her breast jumps with her pulse. Or feel the blood pounding through my cock. Elle est belle en tabarnak. I only have half an hour before I have to leave, and I have to fuck this girl. For fuck’s sake, she made the first move. This should be easy.
“But I can still give you the best night of your fucking life.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ll make your toes curl, baby.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll fill you up until you scream. You’ll never feel so sore and good after a night with my cock.”
A few seconds of stunned silence follow my words and then I turn my head to kiss that throbbing vein in her neck. Her nails dig into me ever so slightly.
Good. I have her.
She clears her throat. “What makes you think you can even use that cock in your condition?”
My blood churns at the salty tone in her voice. Fuck, I love girls with attitude. “Babe, I’ve fucked women when I was much more wasted than this.”
“Yeah?” Her chest flushes with red. “And how many of them want a second time with you?”
A smile hitches on my face. “All of them.”
She shakes her head, not believing me.
I slip my phone out of my slacks, still very conscious of her ass sitting on my lap, right over my cock. I show her my text messages, a dozen or so unread ones with random numbers. I pick one at random:
OMG that was so hot last night let’s get together again r u free Friday?
She snorts with laughter and then she goes back, selecting another one:
I will literally suck your dick off if we go out again. I do anal.
This time she throws her head back and laughs, the phone shaking in her hand. It’s a beautiful sound that makes a hot drop of pleasure run down my throat. I take the phone from her, chuckling.
“See?”
“Why do you get their numbers if you never call them back?”
I shrug as a shard of unpleasantness suddenly bursts the bubble of my happiness. The truth is just far too depressing.
“I don’t know.”
She smiles at me, and I don’t think I’ll ever forget that smile. My heart bumps a little when she slides her hands around my neck.
“You’re here alone, aren’t you?”
She nods as a deep blush fills her face. “Yeah.”
Perfect.
My mouth hovers over her ear. I brush back her hair with a finger and her shoulders shiver.
“Do you want to go somewhere to talk—in private?”
I figure that’s more polite than, I want to fuck you.
Her head turns, her lips inches from mine. I’m startled by the warmth gripping my insides when an uncertain smile pricks her face. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
She jerks her head to the side. “I don’t.”
“Why offer to buy me a drink, then?”
Her heated gaze falls back over me, strong but unsure. “’Cause I—” She breaks off with a chuckle of bitter laughter. “Never mind. I should go.”
Her body slides from my lap, but I catch her before she can fall, wrapping both arms tightly around her small waist. She turns to me with a scandalized look.
“Hey!”
My chest rumbles with a small laugh. “I’m not letting your sweet ass out of my sight until I get what I want from you.” My mouth hovers right over hers. “Thirty minutes. Alone.”
“Thirty minutes? What— Is that some kind of joke?”
Her eyebrows arch high right before I spread my palm on her back and drag my fingernails down.
“If I’m not the best fucking lay you’ve ever had after thirty minutes, I don’t deserve to call myself a man.”
Fingers clench the back of my head.
“Okay.”
Awesome.
I stand up from my stool and deposit her to the floor gently, holding out my hand for her to grab. She slides a smooth hand in mine and then I curl my arm around her waist, feeling her rapid breaths as her cheeks blaze. I leave a tip for the bartender and climb the stairs to the VIP rooms, which I hope are deserted. A quick glance through the glass doors tells me no.
Fuck.
I open the door to a room filled with soft purple leather couches, the black lights emitting an annoying dark haze over the whole room. A loud group sits in one of the couches, but there’s no way I’m fucking this girl with a crowd of people listening in, so I make a beeline for them.
My eyes meet the surly gaze of some backwards-baseball-cap-wearing douchebag.
“Johnny Cravotta needs the room emptied. Get out.”
“Shit—he’s here?”
“That’s none of your concern.”
As a matter of fact he’s not, but it’s not like Douchebag will try to challenge a wise guy. They exchange worried looks and rise from the couch, filing out one by one as the door finally shuts us into silence.
The girl’s arm trembles at my side and I take it, leading her to an empty couch. She sits down like a small bird and I sink into the leather beside her, curling an arm over her shoulders. Her curves press into my side as she twists her body, my blood pounding where she daintily touches my leg. Heat spreads across her pulsing chest. The red blush fills her skin like a fever. I slip my fingers under her white spaghetti strap and caress her shoulder. I have half a mind to pull it down. She’s not wearing anything else underneath— Holy fuck; I’m hard as a rock.
Her tremulous voice breathes out again. “Do you have a girlfriend? Wife?”
Not yet.
“No.”
It’s fun watching her squirm. Desire parts her lips as I continue my slow massage of her shoulder. Her eyes keep lingering on my face—my lips. Blonde hair shifts, obscuring her face from view.
“I—uh—fuck,” she laughs into her hands. “I’m so embarrassed.”
My other hand touches her chin, and she turns back toward me. Warm breath mists over my mouth and for a moment I can’t hear anything but the roaring sound of my blood.
“You shouldn’t be shy.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because a girl like you gets whatever she wants. All you have to do is ask.”
“I just—”
I hear her sharp intake of breath just before I close in the few inches between us. My lips touch hers as the hand playing with her shoulder snakes into a tangle of her hair. Heat smolders between us as she kisses me back, hesitant at first and then more forceful. She shoves the jacket from my shoulders and finds the space under my neck to touch my bare skin. Then I’m on fire—my hand falls down her shoulder to grab one of her tits. The fabric is so fucking thin that I can feel the stiff peak of her nipple. My thumb caresses the hard nub and a high, desperate sound leaves her mouth to enter mine.
Jesus Christ.
I want this fucking girl. I want her tits in my mouth and her pussy swallowing my cock, but I only have a half hour before I really have to leave.
Pick up the fucking pace, Jack.
She pulls back and I inwardly groan as she gives a little shake of her head.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“I’m supposed to be somewhere.”
“Me too.” My hand reaches down her back, grabbing the edge of the camisole and dragging it up, over her skin. Her eyes widen like saucers as I lift it over her creamy white globes and all the way up. I fling the camisole away and cover her tits with my hands. Fucking gorgeous tits. “I’ll fuck you really nice and fast—that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
I’m distracted by the feeling of them in my hands, and a low growl issues from my throat when she nods.
“What’s your name?”
Her heartbeat slams into my hand and I just want to rip the rest of her clothes off, but she drags her fingers up and down the back of my neck.
A smile staggers across my face. “It’s Jack.”
“I’m Beatrice.”
“Hello, Beatrice.” My mouth fastens over her nipple and she gasps as I take the other one between my thumb and forefinger, pinching hard as I drag my tongue over her skin and suck. She clutches my neck and digs her fingers, letting out a loud moan that surprises me.
I might as well taste all of her. I did promise to be the best lay she ever had.
“Stand up, sweetheart. Do it now.”
My teeth bite into her wonderful, jiggling tits before I smack her ass. I see the red mark blazing on her white skin as she pulls away to stand up in front of me shyly. Her lips are plump and wet, and the way her hair looks slightly mussed up makes me want to bend her over the coffee table. She sucks in her bottom lip and bites it. My cock throbs, growing along my leg like a steel pipe.
“Take off your clothes. All of them.”
I watch as my command runs through her body. She hesitates, looking over her shoulder at the glass windows.
“Do as I say.”
Her head snaps back as she sucks in a deep breath, hooking her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans and pulling them down with agonizing slowness. They drag over her bony hips, revealing a shaved pussy gleaming with wetness. My mouth waters to see the rest of her creamy thighs and calves. I follow her hands all the way down until her feet step out of her jeans.
“Get that beautiful pussy in my face.”
A thrill hits my chest as she steps forward, following my every command. Damn, she likes taking orders, doesn’t she? It’s hot. My eyes are on the sheen of wetness sticking to her inner thighs. My cock strains against my slacks as she stands on the couch uncertainly. My hand slides up the back of her thigh, right up to her tight ass. I fondle her perfect bubble and then I strike her hard. Her muscles twitch and she lets out a sharp gasp.
“Closer.”
“But I’ve never—”
My hands circle her thighs as she stands up on the couch, bringing me face-to-face with her pussy, which is the exact same shade of pink as her blush. I don’t give a fuck that we’re exposed to the entire club—I can’t waste another second without my tongue inside her. My lips touch her clit and my tongue slides against her sweetness.
“Oh my God!”
She curls her fingers in my hair and yanks hard enough to make me grunt.
I guess she likes it.
I reach back with my tongue all the way and slide along her slippery folds, feeling her rock against my mouth as her body gives in to pleasure. Her pussy drips and I drink her in, enjoying the mild taste as her muscles clench around my tongue. Then I grind against her, shoving myself deep inside her cunt as I massage her soaking clit with my thumb. I feel my briefs getting wet with the pre-cum slipping out of my cock, and I so badly want to rip my pants off and yank her down over me. I kiss her, circling her nub as my fingers slip inside her. Goddamn, she’s so wet for me.
I hammer her cunt with my two fingers, sucking her reddened flesh as she grips my hair and screams something in my ear.
“Kiss me!”
Shit.
I pull her hips down so that she falls to my lap. Soft, round tits smash against my chest as she throws her arms around me and crushes her mouth to mine. My body falls backward and I just manage to catch myself with an arm thrown behind myself. Her voice is raw, panting as she kisses me, sweeping inside my mouth to taste herself. Feeling her wild tongue inside me makes me wonder what it’d feel like to have her swallow my cock, but we’re pressed on time. Fucking hell.
Her nails drag over my skin, scratching me as she rips off my dress shirt. Scattering buttons hit the marble floor. I sit up as she yanks the shirt from my body, my heart pounding hard, driving alcohol from my head.
Heat simmers just below the surface of where she touches me. She runs her fingers over my muscles, her rosebud mouth flushed from kissing me. I grab the back of her head and twist her long hair into a rope, kissing her neck. She gasps.
“Lie down and spread your legs.”
Then my hand slips from her neck and my heart pounds against my skin as she looks up at me, her eyes wide. They’re so blue. She obeys me, her tits spreading over her chest as she lies down. I just want to throttle through and fuck her until the whole club can hear her screams, but the vulnerability in her eyes stops me. I follow her gaze below my belt, to my livid erection pressing absurdly against my slacks. She flinches as I undo my belt and fling it aside. Then I walk right to her head and pull down my slacks and briefs. Veins throb along my cock and a glistening bead of pre-cum hangs precariously as my dick springs free from my pants. I fist the base of it and watch her lick her lips.
“You like it, sweetheart? Want to touch it?”
A grin tightens my face as she reaches up and grabs me with both hands, moving up and down as if she’s never touched a cock before. She cups my balls with one, the other held firmly at the base. My cock jumps in her hands.
“You’re so big.”
“I’ve primed your pussy so that I could fuck you with every inch.”
I reach down and grab one of her tits as she plays with me, and then she looks at me with an uncertain gleam, her lips inches from my cock.
“Can I?”
She leans forward before I can respond, licking the pebble of pre-cum from my head. I squeeze her tits hard as she starts forward again, wrapping her lips around my head. A deep sigh leaves my throat as her tongue slides underneath, all the sensitive nerves on fire from her mouth. Now she’s sucking my cock, her beautiful, innocent eyes looking at me shyly, as if for approval. It’s fucking hot.
“Don’t be shy, take it all the way.”
Using my hand, I apply pressure to the back of her head and watch my cock slowly disappear in her throat. She pulls back to breathe, my dick greased with her saliva, and then she tries again.
“I want your nose to touch right here.”
I point to the skin right above my groin.
Shit, I love blowjobs. Sloppy, wet, noisy blowjobs, and this girl seems to be the queen of them. She grabs the base of my dick hard and runs her tongue along my shaft, gagging herself, and my muscles flex. It’s so hard not to just grab her head and fuck her throat, especially when she reaches around to grab my ass, pushing my cock deeper inside. My cock touches the back of her mouth, and then her nose touches my body. Good God, any more and I’ll come inside her.
“Good girl,” I say in a heavy voice, feeling as though I’m drunk again. “Very, very good girl.”
I love the view. Gorgeous, naked girl, sucking my cock. She moves on all fours and grabs my hips, and I can’t stop admiring her. The way her back dips, the delicate curve of her spine leading to her perfect ass, still pink with the imprint of my hand.
“Stop.”
My cock throbs against her lips as she gives me a questioning look, and I bend over as her creamy neck arches with my hand gently pulling the back of her head. Then I seal my kiss against her lips, grabbing her one of her tits with a rough hand, feeling their orbicular shape, the way they bounce in my hands. Fuck, I can’t believe how hard I am. I taste myself inside her mouth, my tongue playing with hers. My hand slips lower, away from her chest to her other curves. What a nice ass. So tight I could probably bounce a penny off her. Then I sweep around her hip to that pussy that’s already creaming for me.
Her head lolls on my arm when my two fingers slide inside her tight walls, her eyes lit in an expression of ecstasy. I slide them in torturously slow, watching how she twists and how her legs move and how she bites her lip and moans anyway. She’s a sexy sight. I keep finger-fucking her, increasing the pace as her pussy gets soaking wet—the sounds unnaturally loud. Perhaps it’s because I can only see and hear her, and my dick feels like it’s going to fall off soon if I don’t hammer that perfectly primed cunt.
But I want to get her as close to the edge as possible. I pride myself on my abilities, on leaving every girl satisfied. I don’t want this girl satisfied—I want her floating on cloud nine; I want her to sing ballads about my cock.
She grasps my neck with her dainty fingers and moans into my mouth like a slut. Blood pounds in my head like a hammer. I’ve never been so worked up in my goddamn life. It’s the sounds she makes.
“Jack, please.”
I slide my fingers out of her, my cock jumping when I hold them to my face and suck every drop of her.
“You taste so fucking good.”
Red flames lick her cheeks.
“I think I’m going to take turns fucking you and jamming my tongue as far as I can inside that sweet pussy. How does that sound?”
She kisses me. No, she attacks me with her arms winding around my neck and her tongue down my throat. Her fingernails rake the back of my neck, and it’s fucking hot, but I push her back gently so that her heaving body lies on the couch.
Get the fucking condom.
I nearly rip the thing in half as I fish it out of my pants and roll it on my iron-stiff cock. She’s just the perfect sight. Nothing better than a wet and willing woman, legs already open for you.
She wraps her legs around me and I guide the head between her folds, feeling that first bit of resistance. I slowly sink into her and she lets out a high gasp. I look at her, and her face is contorted.
What the hell?
“What’s the matter?”
She pulls me down and I’m sure the vein on my forehead is ready to blow. I’m halfway inside this girl and I want to fuck the shit out of her. Her eyes are wide and her chest pulses hard, but she clings to my neck. I slide another inch inside, feeling how tight her walls are. I plant a kiss on her damp neck.
“You need to relax.”
“I—it’s been a while.”
Oh, fucking great.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Please, God, say no.
“No. Please.”
I thrust again, hearing her breath hitch in her chest. I just love seeing her reaction to my huge cock.
“It’s so fucking big.”
“I told you I was going to bury every inch inside you.”
I give her a moment to adjust and then I thrust a little harder. Her muscles loosen around me and she squeezes my head, raking her nails up and down my back.
She clenches around me as I drive into her harder. Gradually I feel her let go. She digs her nails into my neck, raking them down until she anchors over my ass.
“Oh my God, it feels so amazing.”
“I told you.”
I wait until her breaths start to quicken. Until every thrust rends a moan from her throat. Until I feel like I’m going to explode. Then I pull out, and her flushed face narrows at me. “What are you doing?”
I shift my body so that her legs curl over my back and shove my face to her steaming cunt. It’s swollen with arousal. As soon as my lips touch her she clenches her thighs around my face.
“Jesus!”
I breathe into her pussy, sliding my tongue over the bud that makes her scream. My fingers spread her open and my tongue slips inside. Her pussy keeps clenching over my tongue as I drive it in as far as I can, closing my mouth over it to drink her. I stroke her thighs, even reach to touch her stomach. Her muscles twitch under my fingers and then she bends, sitting upright. She grabs my hair.
I love the ferocity on her face. She shudders when I give her a clit a kiss.
“Lie down, sweetheart. I’m not done.”
She pulls on the roots of my hair. “But I want you now.”
It takes everything inside me not to climb back over her and go to town. “I’m going to spank you if I have to ask you again.”
Then her fingers loosen from my hair and I stick out my tongue. I slide up and down, waiting for her to gasp or moan, the sound hitting my cock. Jesus Christ, I have to shove my dick inside that wet pussy. I suck her hard, just flicking my tongue against her sensitive bud. She arches her back and grasps her hair.
“Please!”
Jesus fuck, I can’t take it anymore.
I get back on the couch, shoving myself between her as I come face-to-face with her, guiding my cock through her wetness. The urgency builds inside me like a pulsing ache, and I grab her tiny waist. I watch her eyes go wide when I shove my cock inside her, again and again. She claws my ass, and she’s so wet that the sound of my balls slapping her pussy echoes loudly in the room. The sounds she makes—the howling, the begging—fuck, it’s hot. Then I reach down and I pinch her clit just as I feel my stomach seize with a violent tremor.
“Fuck!”
I cover her mouth with mine as the pressure building up in my cock finally explodes. My hips thrust into her as I moan loud enough to surprise myself. She buries her fingers in my hair, breathing hard against my lips. I watch those blue eyes break as she succumbs to the orgasm shaking through her body. She clings to my neck and kisses me as aftershocks of my orgasm rip through me, thrusting my hips.
Goddamn, I came really hard.
I prop myself on my elbows and I wipe away a strand of hair sticking to her forehead. Her face breaks into a wide smile.
“That was amazing.”
“I told you, didn’t I?”
Her cheeks burn a dark fuchsia, and I wonder why I’m not already on my way, picking my clothes off the floor and making some excuse why I can’t stay. I’m still here, balls deep inside her. Something freezes me in place. Maybe it’s the way she’s still begging me with those eyes.
“What’s that look?”
Her eyes are so fucking blue.
“I thought you’d be different.”
I make a noise through my nose.
“I thought you’d be an asshole.”
I trace her plump bottom lip. An aftershock of my orgasm shakes through my body and I feel like I’m drunk on the smell of her hair. It takes me a while to respond. “Because?”
“You’re a wise guy.”
My stomach tightens. How did she find out?
You practically threatened that jock by dropping Johnny’s name.
“Yeah, well, I’m not an asshole to women, but everyone else is shit out of luck.”
The corners of her eyes wrinkle with a smile. “Tough guy, huh?”
My elbows sink into the couch cushions as I nuzzle her neck. When I plant a kiss on her throat, she utters a small gasp and I smile against her skin.
“You think you’ve got me pinned down?”
I pull back far enough so that her nose touches mine. Her shoulders lift in a shrug and she glances away shyly.
“Maybe.”
“What about you?” A smile staggers across my face. “Let me guess: sheltered girl who had to sneak out so that she could get some dick.”
“Close enough.”
I knew it.
A tinge of regret hits me because no matter how hot the sex was, I won’t see her again. I can’t. I’m already dreading the moment I’ll have to see the puzzled disappointment in her eyes.
She watches me, mouth half-open as if she wants to say something, and then the drowsy happiness fades from her eyes. Beatrice rolls on her side and reaches for her shirt. I pull out of her, unsticking my body from hers. Avoiding my gaze, she stands and picks up her clothes. I grab my slacks and stare at her, thrown by her behavior.
You should be glad you don’t have to give her some excuse.
Beatrice stands awkwardly, watching me dress. An odd expression hangs on her face. Then I button my shirt, smirking at the destroyed threads of one of the buttons.
“All right. I have to go—”
“I—I want—”
She opens her mouth with an air of determination, but I take her face in my hands gently.
“If I could see you again, I would. Sorry, hon.”
I kiss her stunned cheek and turn around before she can plead with me. Regret settles in my guts like lead. She was an incredibly hot lay, and maybe I would’ve called her. Fuck, you don’t forget a girl who gives head like that.
“I’ll see you soon, Jack Gallo.”
A smile hitches on my face and my hand is on the doorknob before I realize I never gave that girl my last name.
* * *
How did she know my last name?
It bugs me the whole night, and I can’t figure it out.
Do I know her?
I think I’d remember a girl like that. I keep slipping into earlier tonight, when I was banging the shit out of that smoking-hot girl—Beatrice. Definitely the best lay I’ve had in months.
Fucking focus.
I push thoughts of that girl out of my head.
The hospital is dark after midnight. They dim the hallways slightly and the rooms are blackened, and it’s quiet except for an oppressive, electrical hum that puts me on edge. All these fucking computers and equipment. I want to take a bat to them.
I walk into the ICU, swiping the stolen badge over the wall, which unlocks the double doors. I stroll in and veer to the left, avoiding the nurse’s station. My footsteps don’t make much noise on the polished floor. Years of being a predator on the streets taught me how to keep quiet. I never thought I’d use it for this. Then I pass the room where he died and a vicious surge of energy hits my chest.
They’re fucking animals. All of them.
A body hits my chest as I round the corner. He bounces off me and his clipboard goes flying, and I bend over quickly to pick it up.
Fuck.
“Sorry.”
I hand over the clipboard and he rips it from me. I peer at his badge. Nathan Ross. The very same Nathan Ross I’m trying to find. Frustration bleeds into hot rage as my fists tighten at my sides.
“It’s fine,” he says in an irritated tone. “Can I help you?”
Yeah, you can help me. You piece of shit.
He looks young—probably the same age as me—but he looks like shit. There are cuts on his face where the retard shaves himself, and his haircut is uneven. Dark circles under his eyes indicate sleepless nights.
“No. Have a nice day.”
I force myself to turn on the spot and walk away from him as every inch of me seethes. Won’t have to wait that long.
I don’t actually remember walking back to the parking garage. My eyes blink under the cover of the darkness, hands shaking. There’s no fear, just searing-hot madness. A whistle cuts through the garage and I hide behind the concrete wall next to Nathan’s car. His footsteps echo loudly and I make sure to hide under plain sight of the camera.
Another surge of hatred burns my insides. Whistling. How the fuck can you whistle?
A man dressed in blue scrubs walks beside me. I lunge at him like a snake, immobilizing him in seconds and smothering his mouth with my hand. He struggles violently, and my arm slides over his throat. I squeeze the vein throbbing on the side of his neck and wait until his body goes limp. I let him collapse to the floor, his head smacking against the concrete.
There’s no point in killing him now. Then I fish in his pants for the keys to his car and I pop open the trunk. His body makes a dull sound as I throw him in there.
The drive doesn’t soothe my nerves. I can hear him fucking around in the back, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. I expect him to pass out from the heat, but even that would be too good for that rat bastard. A horrifying image of my brother immobilized on the hospital bed flashes through my head, but I shove it away. Can’t think of that now.
The car bounces as I drive through the uneven dirt road to the junkyard. His screams rebound inside the small trunk, and finally I park his car between two mounds of crushed metal and cut the engine.
This might be it.
His screams lift to the air when I pop open the trunk. “What the fuck are you doing? Where am I?”
“If you move, I’ll kill you.” I slip the sidearm out of my jacket to let him know that I’m not fucking around.
Watery blue eyes widen with fear as he lies in the trunk of his own car, and I hear a dull roar pounding in my ears. I raise the gun to his temple.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! You can have my money.” He grabs his wallet from his pocket and tosses it to me. It lands in a cloud of dust. “Just take it!”
Maybe I’ll play with him before I eat him.
I grab the flimsy wallet from the ground and search through its contents. “Twenty bucks? That’s all you got? Geez, a nurse’s salary ain’t much, is it?”
“I can get more! Please, don’t hurt me!”
Don’t hurt me. But the asshole didn’t care about my brother, did he? He didn’t give a flying fuck about him.
I grab the scruff of his neck and smash the heel of the gun over his face. His nose shatters and blood sprays all over his bright blue scrubs. A thrill shoots up my ribs as he clutches his face, moaning.
“Months ago you accepted a bribe from a man in the hospital. You were told to take a walk from the ICU. Don’t fucking deny it!”
Terrified eyes glance at me. “I—I didn’t.”
I aim the gun at one of his knees and the cracking sound splits the sky, almost drowning out his agonized howl. Blood mushrooms around his knee and tears stream from his eyes.
“I bet that really fucking hurts, doesn’t it?” Seized by a sudden burst of anger, I grab his blood-soaked knee and squeeze. He cries like a little bitch. “Answer me, you miserable prick!”
“Okay!” he screams, holding out his hand. “I did—some guy gave me money—”
My heart crashes against my ribs. “What the fuck did he look like?”
“I don’t know! He had a suit—a black one. Thin face. Short black hair.”
Jesus fucking Christ, this is useless. He could be describing John, for all I know, but the boss never does his own dirty work.
His voice raises an octave. “Look, I didn’t know what was going to happen, okay? He told me to take a walk, so I did.”
“Tell me how much they paid you for my brother’s life.”
He shakes his head, crying silently when he hears the rage trembling my voice. “I’m sorry.”
“How much?”
The miserable bastard flinches at my yell. “F-five hundred.”
My stomach sinks and I clench my eyes. Goddamn it. My chest tightens so that I can barely breathe. My brother’s life was bought for five hundred dollars. They paid off witnesses and took care of the security cameras, but why would they leave this one breadcrumb for me to find? Sloppy. Not like John at all.
I can envision it. Several men in dark suits, silhouetted, quietly slipping into my brother’s room. Grabbing the pillow behind his head and smothering his face. Mike wouldn’t have been able to fight back in his condition. There’s something about that—I want to throw up. A line of nausea creeps into my mouth as I imagine them digging it into his face. It would have been so simple. He was paralyzed.
“How does it feel to die for five hundred worthless dollars?”
“HELP!”
I cut off his screams with another crack. The bullet hits him square in the chest and his mouth bursts with blood. I fire again. Again. Again. So many fucking times. Until his body is riddled with holes and his blood pools in the trunk. I clean the gun with my shirt and then I toss it inside. Nathan’s face is frozen in twisted agony, but my rage still burns. I slam the trunk lid down as the echoes of the gunshots fade in the distance.
I slam my fist into the car, warping the metal as my yells are swallowed by the mountain of crushed vehicles. I check my watch, my head pounding, and I grit my teeth.
Johnny’s waiting for me at the MC.
Where I’m going to get engaged to some bitch I’ve never even met.
Great.
* * *
A sickening feeling possesses me like a slow-acting poison, unlike the fear settling in my guts. I stand in this dark room, waiting for Johnny to show up as François and Tommy eye me as though I’m a fucking liability.
I’m just waiting to die, aren’t I?
This looks like just the place. Four walls. Suspiciously stained wooden floorboards. Two men eye-fucking me. We’re way, way out in the boonies, in biker territory where no one will give a shit even if they hear my screams.
The door creaks, opening wide to admit a slim figure wearing a plain charcoal suit. It’s Johnny, the boss of the family. Black waves of hair speckled with gray are rolled back to reveal a handsome face. Inwardly I recoil. He’s the man who haunts my nightmares. I can’t help but battle a burgeoning swell of rage and fear whenever I see him. The nausea goes straight to my gut.
Blood pounds in my head as I stare at him, conscious of the fact that if it weren’t for him, Mike would still be alive.
He smooths his hands over his pinstripe suit, looking as immaculate as the devil as cold eyes scan my appearance. He glances at the men watching me.
“Leave us.”
I dig my fingernails into my palms as François and Tommy push themselves off the wall and exit the room. The door shuts with a sort of hollow finality and we stare at each other for a moment. Iciness grips my stomach as Johnny strides forward, close enough to do anything he wants to me. His nostrils flare.
Is he sniffing me?
“You’re drunk.”
“Well, you didn’t expect me to come here sober, did you?”
“Listen to me, you fucking moron. You’re either going to jail, or you marry one of them. End of fucking story.”
I might just rip my fist across Johnny’s face. “I’m not going to marry some biker cunt. They put my brother in the hospital, or did you forget that?”
The boss bares his teeth. “I forget nothing. We were at war, Jack. Now we’re not. It’s that simple.”
Piece of shit.
I want to scream at him that I know what he did. He’s the most ruthless boss in history—he could have silenced my brother. They found cotton fibers in his nose and lungs. He suffocated to death, and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there. The grief still tears at me like a hundred tiny knives cutting deep inside me.
It should have been me. I was the fuck-up.
The hatred boiling inside me must be plain on my face, because Johnny’s eyes narrow dangerously.
“You have something you want to say to me?”
I would kill you if I had a shred of proof.
“Why the fuck don’t you just kill me?” It bursts out of my mouth before I can take it back, the question finally ripped from my throat.
He clenches his fists. “What?”
“I know your style, Johnny. You don’t give second chances. Why me? I’m Mike’s worthless, ex-junkie brother. Why the fuck are you doing this for me?”
“You’re my bargaining chip for this deal.”
I let that sink in for a moment.
“Jesus.”
Johnny approaches me, his face inches from mine. “I know you think I killed him. I didn’t.”
I cross my arms, shaking my head as a painful grin stretches my face. “Sure.”
I go flying as he shoves my chest. My back hits the wall and his fist slams into the space right beside my head.
“I had nothing to do with it!”
Earnest black eyes bore into mine. I study the creases in his face, feel his breath blowing hard over my face. I wish I could believe him.
“Fine.”
“Câlisse de tabarnak.” He starts to turn away, then his snarling face screams at me again. “You’re going to marry one of those girls, or you’ll get your fucking death wish.”
The sound of his screaming vibrates in my ears, almost painful. The airport heist fucked everything up. The CSIS went ape shit, even though the MC screwed us over and took the cash. Everyone needed alibis—everyone had one. Except for me. Anyway, nothing really mattered once Mike died. My brother was everything. Dead and gone. I couldn’t deal with it. I expected Johnny to send someone to pop me, but he never did. I’m his only loose end. The only way to avoid jail is to marry the girl who’s giving me an alibi. Spousal privilege. She can’t testify against her husband.
Just kill me and get it over with.
It makes my stomach turn to think about marrying one of those fucking cunts. They beat my brother—hurt him so badly that he’d never walk again. They’re accessories to his murder.
“Why the fuck are we making peace with these dogs?”
“I want my money,” Johnny says baldly. “They’re giving back most of the money from the heist, and I want things to calm down.”
So that’s it? They get to beat the shit out of Mike and everything is fucking hunky-dory?
“What about my brother?”
“They paid for hurting him. An eye for an eye.”
They did. I saw the biker’s body that Tommy tortured. It wasn’t enough for me. Call me sick, but I wanted more.
“The new president knows we have the means to wipe them out, if we wanted. He wants peace, and frankly, so do I.” Johnny runs a hand through his hair and steps away from me. “Let’s go. I don’t have all fucking day.”
Die or marry some biker bitch. It’s not really a choice, is it? If I go to jail, it won’t be long before someone shanks me in prison. Johnny’s willingness to do right by my brother would end the moment I posed a threat to him.
“This is fucking ridiculous.”
Resigned, I follow Johnny outside the room back into the clubhouse, where a dozen or so bikers are waiting for us. The bloody struggle that started after we killed their president ended up with a more moderate, less reactionary leadership.
“They’re just going to hand off one of their women to me?”
He gives me a look, warning me to silence. “They’re desperate.”
They must be to give one of their women to a guy who fucks around and gives no shits about it. The new president stands in the middle of the clubhouse, which looks significantly less shabby than the last time we came here. Gone are the stripper poles and the giant speakers blasting rock music. Thank fucking God. Behind their shoulders I see a row of women lined up like a cattle auction.
Sweet Jesus.
This is insane.
Johnny shakes the president’s hand, who turns his oily gaze toward me.
The new president is a short, stout man with a russet-colored beard, which lightens in his heavy sideburns. His leather cut is cracked with age, but he wears it proudly. The look he gives me makes my teeth crack. The last thing I want is to marry one of these people. It’s a fucking insult to my brother’s memory. A disgrace.
It’s temporary.
The president holds out his hand for me to shake, but I just can’t stomach looking into that fucking asshole’s eyes and taking his hand as though he’s my equal. An image of Mike’s lifeless body in the hospital bed flashes, and my face slowly burns. I feel like I can imagine it going black and curling backward, like that biker Tommy torched to avenge my brother.
That makes me smile.
I take his hand, and it’s like a battle of who can crush the other guy first.
“These are the girls who are willing to provide an alibi for you.”
Johnny crosses his arms. “If everyone keeps their mouth shut, we can put this behind us.”
Cold rage brews in my chest as Johnny gives me a quelling look. Put this behind us? I look around for a friendly face, and see Sal, the underboss. He darkens as he meets my gaze and he very slightly shakes his head.
Don’t do anything stupid.
Pissed, I turn back toward the women they have lined up for me. They stand close together, looking vaguely unhappy as they avoid my gaze.
Which one am I supposed to pick? The one who seems the happiest or the one I see myself fucking?
“So, what am I supposed to do once I pick one? Throw her over my shoulder and walk out?”
My humor echoes hollowly in the clubhouse and Johnny gives me a withering look before he turns his head.
“This is just a meeting,” the president says, unsmiling.
Whatever.
My attention turns back to the row of women patiently waiting for me to make a decision. My eyes skip from pretty face to face, recognizing nothing but fear. I almost skip over the last one, too. Then my heart turns to stone. The long, highlighted blonde hair and deep-blue eyes strike me suddenly. That rosebud mouth was wrapped around my cock hours earlier. Holy shit, it’s her. The girl I banged in the club. What was her name?
Beatrice.
Her eyes fasten on me and she does a double take, her sullen features gradually hardening into grim resoluteness.
So I already fucked the biker bitch.
Well, well, well.
This is interesting. Either she scoped me out or this is one hell of a coincidence. Considering the lack of surprise on her face, I’d guess it’s the former.
Holy shit. Was does that mean?
Beatrice takes a small step back as I make a beeline toward her, ignoring the others. I stand a foot away from her, smelling the shampoo on her damp hair. Her pink lips, still flushed with the heat of the shower, look perfect. I want to wind my hand in her hair and crush those lips against mine. Without her makeup she looks even more vulnerable, though not as much as she did when she was naked under my hands.
Do not get hard right now.
Instead I just speak to her, almost trembling in anticipation. “I’d like a word with you in private.”
She lifts her gaze, looking over my shoulder to the president as though for permission, which makes heat flare in my chest.
His gravelly voice cracks the silence. “Go, Beatrice. Take my office.”
The girl who I fucked hours ago gives me a polite half-smile and walks toward a room across the hall. I open it for her and she walks inside, her limbs shaking. There’s a small walnut desk and a couple chairs. She wraps her arms around herself as I shut the door and then the silence in the small room suffocates us.
I can’t stop seeing her naked body. Mere hours ago she was completely and utterly mine. She clutches the edge of the desk, staring at me, and a sickening twist of self-disgust wrenches me. This girl represents everything I fucking hate, and I want to fuck her again.
“I didn’t expect to see you again.”
“It’s Jack, right?”
She uses the French pronunciation for my name, the staccato sound clipping from her tongue. A deep, buried memory of my mother surfaces to my brain. She bends down from her chair, arms outstretched: Jack, viens ici.
She’s gone, too.
“Yeah.” My voice sounds unnecessarily loud in the small room. I approach her and she clings to that desk like it’s life or death. I stop inches away from her. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? You don’t like being so close to me?”
Beatrice blinks her blonde lashes. “No,” she says defensively. Then she looks up in horror. “I didn’t mean that!”
Damn straight.
Fuck, she’s hot. It’s rare that a girl holds my interest like this, but I like the way she avoids my gaze and blushes prettily, just like a shy schoolgirl. I want to touch her, and I reach out to grab her shoulder, knowing she won’t stop me. She trembles a little as I slide my hand to the base of her neck. I held her just like this when she sucked my cock. It tightens in my pants as her heady scent ensnares me like a strong shot of tequila.
“Why did you scope me out in that club? Don’t deny it.”
She glances at me. “They told me what they wanted me to do. I just wanted to see if I’d like you.”
I guess that makes sense.
“From the way you were screaming, you seemed to like me a lot.”
The ache pounds as a pink blush spreads over her cheeks.
“I made a mistake.”
“You probably did.” I rub her throat with my thumb. “Did you want to sample my cock again before sealing the deal?”
A shard of anger cuts at me as she meets my gaze.
“We can fuck in this room if you’re still undecided—”
“Don’t talk to me like that!”
I take a step back as she shoves my chest, looking furious. So the biker bitch has some personality after all. It’s amusing to see the horror falling over her face, and I laugh at how frightened she looks. My laughter dies and she stares at me with indignation.
“Why did you volunteer yourself for this?”
A defiant, hard look comes over her eyes. “None of your business.”
“So much fucking attitude. You weren’t like this at the club. You were so eager to be mine.”
The little freckles on her nose burn, along with the rest of her face.
It’s hell being so close to her. I grasp her neck lightly and feel her pulse jackhammering into my hand. She parts her lips and I can smell the mint on her breath. She even brushed her teeth to get the taste of my cock out of her mouth.
I can still taste her.
“Look, I made a mistake.”
I don’t give a fuck.
She makes a sudden movement with her hand. “I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t a psycho. I didn’t think it would go that far.”
“Well, it did. I’m not crying over it.”
My pulse races when I see how flustered she’s getting. She seems tortured by that fact—and by my hands on her neck.
“Don’t insult me by telling me you didn’t like it.”
“I did like it,” she says, skin so bright that I can feel the heat. “That’s not the point.”
I lean over her so that she’s pinned against me. Her panicked breaths blow on my lips and I dig my fingers into her hair. “I’m not crazy.” A smile hitches up my face. “At least, not in the way you think I am. I’m not going to hurt you, but I’m sure as hell going to use you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The MC wants to please me, so that’ll be your job. Pleasing me.”
“I—don’t understand. This is about me giving you an alibi.”
Hatred rushes into my throat. “This is about becoming my wife. Maintaining the alibi is just one of your duties.”
“Maybe you should ask one of the others for this arrangement.”
“I won’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m choosing you.”
Her nostrils flare. “You didn’t even talk to the others!”
“Do I look like I give a fuck about talking to some biker sluts?”
“They’re not sluts—”
“I don’t care. I hate them—I hate your whole fucking MC.”
The injustice of it all boils up again, burning my throat. I fucking hate them—hate Johnny. The Devils MC got the drop on Mike and beat him. He was barely speaking and then someone finished him off. The MC wasn’t involved. That nurse confirmed my suspicions.
“If you hate me then why go through with this?”
I feel the anger steaming off her skin. I lean in closer, even though she looks forbidding. Blood rushes to my head as I inhale the perfume of her skin, and I remember how it clung to me all the way home. Damn it, I’m getting hard just thinking about it. Fuck her. I tighten my fingers in her hair and crush my lips against hers, backing her against the desk. She opens her mouth in a gasp of surprise and I stick my tongue down the bitch’s throat. She clings to my jacket but suddenly releases her hands as though she’s been burned. I taste the mint in her mouth, but I want her to taste like me. I want to fucking defile this innocent biker girl.
You already did.
I pull back slightly. “I’ll hate you, but I’ll love fucking you.”
Beatrice makes a face and steps away from me. Her chest burns a bright red and her hair is frayed. How far can I push her?
“Does the president know I’ve already tasted the goods?”
I practically hear the slap coming, and I deserve it, so I let her hand rip across my face. Damn, she’s got an arm. She brings back her hand, and I’m distracted by how hot she looks when she’s pissed off. Her hair whirls around her head as she comes in for another one, but I catch her skinny wrist in my hand and yank her forward. The gasp she makes when her body bumps into my chest goes straight to my dick. I remember her gasping just like that, with her arms like a vise around my neck, her tits in my face.
Fuck.
She flinches when my mouth hovers over her skin.
“I expect to see some of that fire in the bedroom.”
“Go to hell!”
Then I let her go, laughing as she stumbles away from me to run back to her beloved clubhouse.
I am going to hell.