River James (Rockers Of Steel #3)

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River James (Rockers Of Steel #3) Page 8

by Mj Fields


  “You’re serious right now?”

  I look down, directing her eyes at my dick. Instead of turned on, she looks annoyed.

  Nodding turns into shaking my head. “Of course not.” I sit up and grab her hand, yanking her down hard so she falls on me. “But you need sleep and so do I.”

  “Tink. I need to take care of Tink.”

  I roll so I am on top of her. “Nap first; Tink later.”

  *****

  Pain soars through my body. I try to fight. I try to scream. I can’t breathe.

  His hand is covering my mouth, so I bite at his flesh.

  I pray for help, pray for my mother, and then, when all hope is gone, I pray, beg, and plead for death.

  His movement stops, and his teeth tear into my shoulder as he grunts and shoots off inside of me.

  “If you tell her, I’ll do the same thing to her. If you tell her, she’ll hate you worse than she already does. If you tell her, I’ll tell everyone how you begged for it. If you tell her, the whole world will know what a weak, sick, little homo you are.”

  When he pulls away, I feel like I’m going to be physically sick. I feel like I am going to throw up and shit.

  I do both.

  “Clean that up now, you little fucking bastard.”

  “Tink, no!” I yell as she grabs River’s hand when he grabs my chest.

  River’s eyes open wide, mine no doubt just as wide. I want to cry, but I want to make it all stop for him, too. I hate that he hurts, and I hate that he even does it in his sleep. Most of all, I hate that he’s ashamed and embarrassed by something he feels he has no control over.

  “Fuck,” he groans breathlessly as he begins to shift around, looking lost.

  “You okay?” I ask as he pulls his hand away.

  “Yeah¸” he mumbles. “Sorry.”

  The lost look in his eyes is almost more than I can take after hearing his blood-curdling cry while he slept. I want to make it go away.

  “Don’t be. She shouldn’t be on the bed.”

  He nods then looks me over. “I’m not sure—”

  “I’m fine. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  He looks at me like he’s looking deep inside of me. I reach up and cup his chin instinctively to comfort, and a rumble escapes deep from his chest before his lips crash against mine, but I can’t give it to him, so I turn my head and give him my neck, instead.

  Regardless of the day I have had, regardless of how pissed off I am at him, he needs me. I need this.

  He pulls away and locks eyes with me. In his eyes is pain. In his eyes is desire. In his eyes is need.

  His jaw pops, and I shake my head. Then his shoulders slump.

  He thinks I am rejecting him.

  “Don’t stop,” I say, closing my eyes.

  “Tink, down,” he barks, and she immediately follows his instruction. His hand cups my chin. “Open your eyes, Keanna.” I do. “This isn’t gonna be like last night. I’m sober.”

  I nod.

  “It’s gonna be hard. It’s gonna be nasty. You’ll come. But once I’m done fucking you, walking without pain will be an issue. You understand?”

  I understand. Oh, God, do I understand.

  My pussy clenches, my nipples are painfully erect, and he is now standing on the bed, looking down at me with a look that is intimidating as hell as he pulls his black boxer briefs off.

  The dead tree with the three crows perched on the flowerless branches tells a story. I know it’s a story of pain, hurt, anger, and death. My need to make it go away is almost as demanding as the ache between my legs that needs to be filled by him.

  “You clean and safe?”

  “Yes.”

  “You trust that I don’t fuck without a condom, but right now, I need to go in bare?”

  “Give me your word, and I’ll believe you.”

  His head cocks to the side like he doesn’t understand.

  “I believe you.” It’s reckless, irrational. I don’t understand it, but I believe him, one hundred percent.

  He reaches down and grabs the waistband of my sweats, ripping them down along with the thong underneath them. He throws them across the room and falls to his knees between my legs.

  “Ass up.” He cups my ass in his hands and lifts before pushing his face between my legs, licking, nipping, sucking, nibbling at me like a man possessed.

  His five o’clock shadow rubs my thighs, his focus now centered. His tongue pushes inside me as he licks deeper and deeper. A finger then pushes in harshly as he sucks so hard on my clit my legs give way without notice. I think I am going to die from pain. No, pleasure. No, both.

  “Oh, god,” I cry out, covering my head with a pillow.

  The pillow gets torn from my hands, and he pulls my body to the end of the bed. Then he kneels on the ground and pushes another finger in me. I nearly come off the bed, looking into the eyes of a man who may very possibly be mad.

  “No more. Oh, please,” I cry as my orgasm rips through me like a tornado of ecstasy and stupor.

  He lets go, then pulls my legs up, holding my ankle against his shoulder as he sucks on it. I am unaware of anything else except for the electrical pulses coursing through me.

  I feel his broad head against my opening, and without notice, he pushes inside me as he cries out, “Fuck!”

  He stills, grunts, and hisses as I feel the pain and pleasure dance deeper inside than ever before.

  “Dear god!” I call out, my back arching, causing my body to impale itself farther on the rock hard cock of a man whose warning was nothing compared to his delivery.

  He pulls my other ankle up so my legs are parallel to his shoulders then begins delivering punishing thrust after punishing thrust.

  My body betrays me as I feel the buildup of another orgasm, one I am sure will push me over the ends of the earth. Then he stops and pushes my legs forward so that my knees are nearly touching my ears.

  Without pulling out, he puts one foot on the bed then the other. He then quickly unzips my hoodie without any effort from me and peels it off. He pushes one arm then another out of the tank top and pushes it down just below my bra before releasing the bra’s front clasp. My breasts spill out as he grabs them harshly, pushing them together and using his finger and thumb to pinch my already painfully erect nipples.

  His eyes flicker in sadistic delight as he looks into mine. “Tell me to stop.”

  “No,” comes out from deep inside of me.

  I am immediately regretful when he hammers his cock into my pussy like a madman.

  “Your pussy—fuck, Keanna. Your pussy was made for my cock. So wet, so hot, so greedy, so fucking tight.”

  I open my mouth to respond, but nothing intelligible comes out.

  He doesn’t stop, not for a second. He doesn’t break stride, and he is not showing any signs of doing so any time soon.

  I close my eyes and take the pounding he promised, the one I agreed to. Thrust after thrust, climax after climax, I take it because nothing else has ever brought me to the place River James is taking me now. A place where I feel like I am having a near out-of-body experience.

  I feel him twitch inside of me before his cum bursts in hot, powerful jets as he grunts out my name.

  He lowers my legs, and his body crashes down on mine. While he pants, almost in sync with me, I throw my arms over his shoulder, fearing if he gets up and pulls out too soon, I may possibly split in half.

  His body tenses, but I don’t move. Then, when his breath becomes shallower, he pushes himself up and looks into my eyes.

  I see regret immediately.

  “Talk to me,” I say as evenly as I can while holding his shoulders.

  His eyes narrow slightly. “About what?”

  “About your dream. Your nightmare, River. You can tell me who hurt you and—”

  His body is off mine in less than a heartbeat.

  “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

  I pull my tank top up and sit,
cringing at the rawness I feel between my legs. “Twice now, I have woken up to—”

  “It’s called sobriety, Keanna. Some people are more fucked up when they’re fucked up. For me, it’s the opposite.” He walks into the bathroom, and I watch as he cleans himself off with a washcloth.

  “River, I don’t believe—”

  “That’s enough!” He looks angry, sounds angry; he is angry. “I have shit to do, and you have to take Tink to Doc’s house. Thanks for taking me raw. Been years. Thoroughly enjoyed your hot, little cunt.” He pulls a sweatshirt on and walks to the door. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Then he is gone.

  After hearing him beg someone in his sleep to stop hurting him, I can’t in good conscience push him any harder. Having just met him, regardless of the feelings I have already allowed to take hold, it’s not my place.

  *****

  After washing up and dressing, I walk out of River’s room to find another man, a tall, dark-blond, very much a boy next-door type of guy, standing at the counter. I recognize him from Natasha’s office.

  He pushes a cup of coffee forward. “Cream and sugar?”

  “I’m fine, thank you,” I say awkwardly.

  “Will you join me for just a couple minutes?”

  I am embarrassed and unsure of what to expect, but I walk over to the huge island that divides the living area and kitchen and sit.

  “River just left.”

  I nod. “I’m aware. I am gonna take Tink and leave now, too.”

  “He’s”—he pauses and runs his hand over his head—”a mess.”

  “I sensed that, too.”

  “He isn’t normally. I mean, he is, but in a much different way.”

  I don’t interrupt. I let him talk. I want to know more.

  He continues, “He’s always funny, constant jokes. He walks a line between wrong and criminal. I have only seen him pissed off at Finn, and that’s a long story, but I understand both sides and don’t even fully know them. My point is, he likes you, but he sure as hell is trying not to.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand it.”

  My eyes focus on the floor. It’s obvious River is as much a mystery to his friends as he is to me.

  “He likes the dog, too.”

  “Yeah, well”—I look up at him—”I love the dog. She has gotten me through some times, you know.”

  “Miguel?”

  I quickly look up at him. “How do you know about him?” I know by the look on his face it came out defensively.

  “When River left just now, he said, she’s not to be around Miguel. Tell her that.”

  I know I should be angry. I should be so angry, but no one, not one person, has ever stuck up for me.

  “Well, I—”

  “He said you should stay here until you can take the dog home. I mean, you’re more than welcome, but—”

  “No, absolutely not. I am fine.” I already want to save him when I know it’s impossible for someone to do that. He has to do it himself.

  “I don’t think you are,” Billy replies, straightening his stance. “Piecing things together, this Miguel is the man who hurt you, messed with the dog, and broke River’s beloved bowl. I will have to agree with River on this: until you are sure you’re gonna be okay, then—”

  “I’m actually going to stay with my friend. She agreed to take Tinker Bell in and then asked if I wanted to stay. And, well, I do. At least for a couple days.”

  He looks relieved and nods.

  “But I was thinking …” I clear my throat and take a deep breath. “Do you think maybe Tink could stay here for a couple of days? If she is any trouble, then I will immediately come and get her.”

  “For River,” he whispers, seeming to know what I am thinking.

  I shrug. “I just think—”

  “No need to explain. I agree.”

  With that, Billy helps me get her cage and food in the house.

  I hop out of the cab, fully intending to go into the bar and score something a fuck of a lot harsher than pot. I’m not sure I will ever smoke again. Nah, scratch that. I have the other bud. Devil weed is on reserve.

  I need her out of my mind ‘cause, let’s be real here: it’s not her; it’s me, definitely pertains to the situation, and I’m not being topped by a chick … ever.

  An emergency stash of vintage, voodoo buzz-be-had.

  Why the fuck didn’t I just do that? Why the fuck didn’t I just grab the can that will never replace Chilz yet will have to work, because well, fucking Chilz is dead? Fucking dead.

  But I have the purple-haired, stank dankness.

  I scratch my head. I have no fucking clue if I really want to get some shit to shoot up in my veins that I know damn well will make it all go the fuck away or if I want to go home and suck the can.

  I stand on the sidewalk, looking up, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do, and then I spot something across the road. It’s shiny, yellow, has four wheels, it’s not a taxi cab, and it needs to be mine.

  I walk across the road, horns blaring, but I don’t give a shit. I flip them off and keep on walking.

  I look at the sign on the glass building: Jersey Shore Auto. Then I walk in, pushing my sunglasses up on my head.

  A woman comes over and smiles, asking, “How can I help you?”

  “I can think of lots of ways, but let’s start with the canary yellow Range Rover out there.”

  She blushes. “It’s a 2016 Range Rover hybrid.”

  “I’ll take it.”

  She looks me up and down, and not in the way that I am accustomed to. She is trying to figure out if I can afford the thing.

  “It’s a ninety thousand dollar vehicle, Mr. ...?”

  “I’m guessing, since you didn’t stop at my dick while eye-balling me, you weren’t telling me your silky, little, high-end panties are ready to be pushed to the side so I can show you a good time, and you’re trying to figure out if I can afford it.” I nod. “I can assure you I can.” I reach in my pocket and pull out my wallet, taking out the folded up insurance check from the accident and handing it to her. “Fifty grand. I’ll sign the check over.” Then I pull out my credit card. “Put the rest on this.”

  “Mr. …?” She looks at the card, but I beat her to it.

  “River. My name is River James. I don’t have a whole lot of time, so let’s get this done, shall we?”

  “You do know it’s a Saturday night?”

  “Yes, and tomorrow is Sunday. The next day is Monday, and so on and so forth.”

  She smirks and nods. “Let’s go and see what we can do.”

  While the paperwork is being processed by the finance guy who seems kind of pissed that he has to do his fucking job at eight o’clock on a Saturday night, Tani, the sales lady, asks if I want a test drive. And fuck yes, I do.

  I’m on a new sort of high right now, a high like the vagina that pushed me into the world used to get when she was shoe shopping.

  She tosses me the keys, and I hop in the driver’s seat while she slides her narrow, little ass in the passenger seat.

  “The vehicle is equipped with Bluetooth everything. Your phone can be synced so your calls and music can be played right here from the steering wheel.” She reaches across and brushes her perky, little tits against my arm while her ass is in the air so I see the lacy tops of her thigh-highs against her pale, white skin.

  “How does the seat adjust?”

  She points to the side. “Right over there.”

  Once I reach down and hit the switch, the back goes down.

  “You wanna help me out?”

  She swallows and leans all the way over, ass high in the air, and all I keep picturing is how she could easily suck my cock while I am driving my new ride around.

  “Back farther?” she asks, leaning up and giving me a bird’s eye view of her tits.

  “All the way. I’m not a small man.” I wink, and she bites her lip.

  When she gets the seat to move back, she looks up. “I
s that good?”

  “Could be better,” I say, looking down at my dick.

  Her eyes follow mine, and she licks her lips.

  “How about we drive around for a bit, you sync my phone, and maybe I’ll let you cop a feel?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responds coyly.

  “Let’s not play games here. You’re looking at my dick like it’s a present under a fucking tree that you might want to open on Christmas Eve. You don’t want to get caught. I will assure you that this zipper goes up the same way it goes down. No one will ever know that the naughty, little Tani decided to peek and see what was inside. Your pretty, little panties are getting all sorts of wet right now, and I have to tell you, going home tonight and finger fucking yourself to the thought of what may be tucked inside the denim will be nothing like finger fucking yourself to the thought of the real thing.”

  I hand her the phone. “Sync this while you toy with this.” I take her hand and rub it up and down my half–chubbed, denim-clad cock and then let go. She doesn’t move her hand.

  “Is this push button?”

  She nods, looking like she is questioning herself.

  “It’s a dick, a perfect dick. I won’t tell a soul if you wanna play with it a while.”

  I drive.

  She plays.

  Feels good.

  Could be better.

  I’m not going there, so I will stick with the feeling good shit.

  When I pull into the dealership, I see a vehicle that looks familiar, but there is no way in hell it could be.

  I drive around to the back and throw her in park.

  “Seat down and spread ’em.”

  She complies.

  I reached between her legs and shove two fingers inside her wet pussy. No need for a build up; she’s already soaking wet.

  “You’re gonna come soon.”

  “I-I … Oh, God!”

  “Mouth over here. Finish me off.”

  She is a hot, little piece of ass. Not my favorite type, not much of a body, but she has been working the D for fifteen minutes, so she deserves this.

  Thankfully, she is vocal. Something all chicks should know: If you suck in the sack or aren’t blessed with a natural sexual prowess, be loud and talk a little dirty. It works for us.

 

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