by Zoey Parker
“You okay?”
“I don’t feel quite right.” She swallowed hard, scanning the bar back. Dipper was busy with a huge line of customers at the other end of the bar. “Adrenaline drop, I guess? I’m tired.”
“You want me to walk you out?” He stood before she could answer, jerking his head toward the door.
“That would be nice.” She smiled weakly, avoiding his gaze, grabbing onto his arm as they weaved through the crowd. On their way toward the front door, he spotted that douchebag that had intercepted her the first time. He looked like a well-dressed raccoon, baggy-eyed in business casual. The raccoon eyed them as they crossed the bar, looking like he wanted to say something.
When they broke through the front door to the sidewalk outside, she let a long sigh. “It was so hot in there. It really made me…” She trailed off, pressing the back of her palm to her forehead. “Woozy.”
“You need a cab or something?” Bastard dug out his phone, unlocking it while he kept an eye on her. She blinked rapidly, like trying to make sense of a puzzle.
“I can call one,” she said, waving him off.
“Let me help you,” he said slowly, stepping forward to grab her elbow when she swayed. “You drink too much tonight?” As soon as the words left his lips, he remembered she’d been chugging water. But maybe it hadn’t been water. She and that bartender seemed awfully close—maybe when she asked for “water” that was code for some drink he made for her.
“I swear I didn’t have anything,” she said, her voice a million miles way. She slumped into his arms suddenly, a blast of perfume reaching him, making his voice shrivel. Fuck. He couldn’t just leave her here like this. And she certainly needed help.
“You got anyone you wanna call?” He tried to help her stand. Her heels dragged on the cement sidewalk as she struggled to get upright on her own.
“No. I mean…no.”
He gnawed at the inside of his lip, looking around. No way in hell would it be a good idea to put her on the back of his bike. Couldn’t trust her to hang on, and if she fell off, they’d be in deeper shit than this. So what now? He didn’t even want to leave her out here for a few minutes like this to go get Dipper. But why him? Bastard didn’t know shit about this girl’s life, just knew that she needed help and sang sweet enough to make his chest hurt.
“Listen, I’ll help you to your apartment or whatever,” he said.
She snorted sarcastically, which sounded a lot like code for hell no.
“Or, or a motel or something,” he said, fumbling with his phone while he helped her stay upright. “That way you can sleep it off. I don’t need to know where you live or anything, I’ll just set you up with a place to sleep.”
She mumbled something that sounded like agreement, so he pulled up the taxi app on his phone and called for one. He’d take her to the motel where he was staying, see if they had a room near his. This, at least, was better than nothing. He could drop her off, make sure she was safe, and then head back to his own room to sleep. Having her close seemed wise. Noble, somehow.
Made him feel like he was choosing the right road for once. One more karmic point against his genetic legacy, the stain that only he could see and fight against.
When the taxi pulled up he helped Kit into the back seat. She curled up at his side, chin on his shoulder, the whole ride to the motel. By the time they arrived, she seemed to be sleeping. He helped her out onto the uneven asphalt, the hum of the parking lot lights guiding their way to the reception area. He sat her on the bench outside the door, shaking her shoulders a bit. She blinked a few times, looking up at him.
“Oh. Hey.” She wiped at her face.
“I’m gonna go in there real quick and get you a room, okay? You wait here.”
She nodded, looking more lifelike at least. He pulled open the door, barely able to rip his eyes off her as he headed for the counter. Didn’t want her falling off the bench or wandering away into the unknown.
“I need an extra room for her,” Bastard said to the night receptionist, jerking his head toward Kit through the bay window. “Next to mine, if possible.”
The night guy made a point to sweep his gaze toward the window and arch his brow. Bastard wanted to punch him in the nose. Yeah, maybe it looked a little weird to be asking for a separate room for a bombshell like Kit. But Bastard wasn’t in the business of seducing half–asleep singers. “I can get her one two doors down.”
“That’s fine.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, watching as she lazily crossed her legs outside. What was her deal? Narcolepsy? Or maybe this was just some elaborate ploy to get him to bring her to his place. After all, she’d woken up just now…
The receptionist programmed a new key card and passed it to Bastard. “Enjoy.”
Bastard snatched the keycard and hurried toward Kit outside. He squeezed her shoulder. “You ready?”
She tilted her head back, those big green eyes of hers snagging him. Hook, line and sinker. “Always ready for you.”
Her voice came out in that trademark husk that had lulled him into a safe place these past few nights. The same voice that he would hear in the quiet moments in the back of his head…probably for the rest of his life. He helped her up, guiding her toward room number 108, just two down from his. He pushed the door open with his foot and flipped the lights on, guiding her inside. Two twin beds faced them, the dingy floral carpet uninspiring.
“Here you go.” He helped her sit on the side of the bed. She smoothed her hand over the bedspread like it was the first time she’d seen such a thing. “I’ll be two doors down if you need me. Room 111. Just sleep it off and call a taxi tomorrow.”
Her head snapped up to look at him. “Don’t go.” She fisted the front of his shirt behind his cut. He tensed, the look on her face hard to turn away from.
“You need to sleep,” he said, covering her hand with his. She was silken soft.
“With you,” she said, a wicked grin cresting her face.
He laughed feebly while his heart rate skyrocketed. “I got my own room, honey pie.”
“Just stay,” she said pitifully, pouting like a little girl. “Come on. I know your name is Bastard and all. Just be the bastard who spends the night and leaves in the morning.”
He paused, his breath catching as her fist loosened, sliding downward over the ridges of his abs. She bit her bottom lip, looking up at him with a sexy grin that made all his willpower dissolve. “I just want one little thing.”
Her hand drifted toward his belt buckle, and then she palmed the crotch of his jeans. She giggled. “Or in your case, not so little.”
His cock twitched, half-hard beneath her warm touch. He squeezed the sides of her arms, giving himself one last solid try to be the good guy. And then all the bets were off. He could only say no to a desperate, begging beauty so many times. “Are you sure you feel like it? You weren’t looking so into it on the car ride.”
She moaned throatily, her palm trekking up and down over the ridge of his jeans. He gritted his teeth. “I don’t feel like doing anything else.”
Kit hooked her fingers through his belt loops and jerked him closer. He stumbled toward her. “Easy there.” He ran a hand through her hair, a waft her floral shampoo reaching him.
“Mmmm.” She tugged at his belt buckle, releasing it with a loud clank. She grinned up at him while she eased his jeans down over his hips. “I’ve been wanting to see this.”
His voice shriveled. He had to be fucking dreaming. She’d been wanting him as much as he wanted her? “Oh yeah? You noticed me in the bar each night?”
“No one else.” She traced her lips with her tongue, grabbing a handful of his cock through his boxers before tugging the dark blue underwear down. His cock sprang free, swollen and heavy, bobbing in the air looking right at her.
“Mmmm.” She caressed him gently, as though admiring a piece of artwork, and then took a good pull with her hand. “Bastard, I want you to fuck me.”
His head spun. This
was too good to be true. “I think I can help with that, honey pie.” He tore his shirt off as she started fisting him, his cock rock hard beneath her grip. Shit, when a woman like her made her demands, he had to comply. “I’ll fuck you as many times as you want.”
“Until the sun comes up?” She leaned forward suddenly and sucked at the tip of his cock. He groaned, knotting his fingers in her hair.
“Anything you want.” His voice came out jagged as she dipped down and took the entire length of him in her mouth. Her tongue darted hot and velvety over his cockhead, making his vision blur for a moment. This was not how he’d expected the night to end. Not by a long shot.
“Your cock is better than I imagined.” She slurped noisily as she trailed her tongue up and down his dick. A smile spread across his face.
“Oh, you’ve been imagining it?” He sucked at his teeth as she took him in her mouth again. “Well I’ve been imagining you too.”
“Mmmm?” Her voice came out muffled as she eased off him, making a loud pop noise as she disconnected from his cock. “Yeah? What have you thought about?”
“How about I show you, instead?”
She looked up at him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Deal.”
He gritted his teeth, heart thumping with desire and incredulity and a million other things that already made this one of the best nights of his life. He got down to his knees, smoothing his palms over the expanse of her thighs. The sequin material of her dress snagged at his hands.
“I’m gonna take something off first.” He parted her dress up the long slit on either side, revealing her creamy legs. He trailed his hands up the side of each thigh, never breaking eye contact. She watched him like she was in a trance.
His fingers hooked at her panty line, tugging the satiny fabric down. He grunted when he saw the material—a shiny black. He eased them down her legs and tossed it aside, urging her to spread her legs.
“Right here.” He snuck a hand between her legs, watching as her facial expressions changed as his fingers crept closer to her pussy. He grazed his thumb over the patch of hair between her legs, and then swirled his finger between her slick folds. She was dripping wet. The last ounce of his willpower dissipated, anything that might have told him to take it slow or hold back. It was on, now that he had proof of just how bad she wanted it.
“Damn, Kit.” His mouth parted as he eased a finger inside her. It entered without resistance, the walls of her pussy hot and swollen. “Didn’t know you wanted it this bad.”
She moaned throatily, her eyes pinched shut. “Bastard. Fuck me. Please.”
Well she can’t be clearer than that. He pinched at her clit, rolling it between his fingertips as he guided her back onto the bed. She eased the straps of her dress down and he helped her pull it off. He tossed it into the corner of the room to join her panties, gazing down at the curvaceous woman before him.
“Here it comes, honey pie.” He climbed onto the bed and she scooted backwards, her legs splaying open. He eased down on top of her, his cock jumping as the throbbing head made contact with her damp folds. She dug her fingernails into the ridge of his shoulders as he wiggled his hips into place, his cockhead finding her entrance as though it had been here with her a million times before.
“Oh, fuck,” she moaned as he started easing inside her, the walls of her pussy stretching to accommodate him. Her arms tightened around his neck as he made a slow descent, taking it inch by tantalizing inch as he pushed himself deeper. Her breath came out ragged at his ear once he found the final bit of space, buried to the hilt inside her, completely wrapped in her silken heat.
“Jesus,” he said, his own voice sounding foreign to his ears. “You’re fucking perfect, Kit.”
She hooked her ankles around his back, arching against him. He started a brisk pace, slipping in and out of her easily as he pounded against her. Within moments he felt the familiar prickle of heat across his shoulders, the warning sign that pleasure would be blasting through him soon. But he couldn’t go so fast. Not with her. Not tonight.
This is your last night in town. It’s gonna count.
He stilled against her, swooping down for a kiss. They still hadn’t kissed yet, and he was dying to taste those lips against his. She returned the kiss hungrily, as though she’d been desperate for the same. They made out like teenagers for a long time, longer than he could even keep track of, his cock throbbing deep inside her.
When they finally parted for air, her dark lipstick was smeared across her mouth. He laughed, dragging a thumb across her lips. “Sorry.”
“I don’t care,” she said breathlessly, tightening her thighs around him. “Just give me more.”
Like he could say no to that. He dipped down, coaxing sloppy, desperate kisses out of her, flexing his hips in a slow and deep rhythm. Each thrust made her breasts jiggle. The heat and intensity of their connection was too good; the dams were breaking, a rush of bliss threatening its arrival. He grunted through a kiss. “I’m close, Kit.”
“Me. Too.” Her voice came out in wispy pants as he thrust. He pulled back, palming a breast through her dress, wanting to give it his all before he exploded. He knocked his fingers against her swollen clit as he pounded her, the rhythm giving was to a dizzying blast of heat that coated his entire body. He groaned as he came, slipping out of her at the last possible second, sending a spurt of cum through the air, landing on the small patch of pubic hair just at the bottom of her mons.
Kit shuddered beneath him, a strangled cry escaping her. Her chest heaved as she clutched at his hips, eyes wild and bright.
“Fuck, Bastard,” she said. “Fuck.”
He grinned, recognizing the afterglow that coated her. “Yeah. I know.”
She propped herself up to look at him, eyes hooded. “You’re gonna put me in a sex coma.”
Bastard laughed as she collapsed back onto the bed, but a few moments later she seemed to really have fallen asleep. He peered at her, confirming the truth. Kit had passed out.
“That good, huh?” He smirked as he pushed off the bed, snatching a tissue from the bathroom counter before wiping her up and replacing her underwear. She snoozed peacefully, so he carefully arranged her on the bed, tugging the covers out from underneath her so she could scoot underneath when she wanted. He scratched at his jaw, looking around the room, her voice ringing in his ears: Just be the Bastard who spends the night and then leaves in the morning.
His rational mind told him to head back to his own room and pass out to a murmuring television like most nights. But maybe he could postpone that…just for tonight. He crawled next to Kit, settling on top of the covers, letting her soft snoozing lull him into a light sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Kit’s own snore woke her up. She jolted to sitting, clutching at her chest, finding a foreign bedspread in her grip. She inhaled sharply, looking around her as the soft details of an early morning came into focus. An unknown hotel room. Muted mauve comforter and lavender walls. An empty bed at her side, the sheets rumpled as though someone had been there with her.
She blinked, a tight headache making itself known. Had she come here with Bastard? That sexy biker from last night? She swallowed a sour taste in her mouth, struggling to recall the fragments of her night, post-show. She’d been having such a good time talking to him…and then she was on her way home…
She groaned as she scooted toward the edge of the bed, her entire body protesting. What the fuck? Mornings didn’t usually feel like this, even when she’d had one or two drinks. She tossed the covers, hobbling toward the bathroom. Her pussy ached, but in a good way. Had they hooked up?
Kit rested her chin in her palm as she peed, staring at the stark lines of the linoleum floor. Sifting through last night’s memories was an unbearable chore. Her brain simply refused to work, like a piece of machinery that had jammed up and ground to a halt. She wouldn’t be mad if they’d fucked, since that was exactly the thing she’d been fantasizing about since laying eyes on his boxy silhouett
e when he first stepped into the bar. Bastard had an intrigue pulled tightly around him, a darkness that clawed at her, secrets that whispered in the same register as her own. But remembering would have been good.
She sighed, splashing water on her face before making sure she looked at least halfway presentable. How the fuck had she even gotten here? A knock interrupted her thoughts and she jumped, hope sparking to life. Maybe it’s Bastard.
Shuffling toward the door, she smoothed down her gown from last night’s performance. What a display of the morning after. She tugged the door open, peering outside cautiously.
“Ma’am, you need to leave.” An exasperated hotel worker tapped at his watch, a thick accent clouding his words. “We’ve called five times. Check out was an hour ago.”
She blinked a few times, letting the news sink in. Fuck, she’d slept in that hard that she didn’t hear the phone ring? “Oh, I uh…I’m sorry. I’ll be going now.”
