Riot (Bad Boy Escorts #1)

by Jo Raven

He pulls back, puts his hand under my chin, lifts it. “You sure about this?”

  After the way he acted earlier, I’m not sure, no. I’m about to ask what really happened, why he was acting so cold, but I stop.

  Because there’s that flare of happiness in his eyes that was missing all night. You can’t fake that, can you? That flash of joy that transforms your face.

  So I nod. “Yeah. I want it to be with you.”

  My trust is a little shaken, but he’s still Riot, still familiar. Still smoking hot.

  A smile spreads on his face, and it does weird things to my insides. Heat spreads in my chest, and lower, between my legs.

  “God, yeah.” He lifts his hands to my face, and I wait for the panic to hit, but nothing happens. He cups my cheeks. “Anything you like, babe. Dammit, Pax, you’re amazing.”

  Looking into his clear eyes, so serious and bright, I know I’ve made the right decision.

  Chapter Twelve

  Riot

  Fuck. She was about to ask me to touch her, lie with her, fuck her, and I was too caught up in putting distance between us.

  Much needed distance, and fuck Johnson for making an appointment with her for me when I told him not to, not anymore, but thank God he did. She’s so strong, doing this, but I can’t imagine her doing it with someone other than me. Let someone else put his paws on her, his mouth on her, his dick in her.

  Don’t wanna fucking imagine it.

  Last time I let her tie me up, get me off, kiss me. Break down every single defense I own. It’s crazy how much I want her. How she makes me so hard ,how she makes me feel so good just by touching my skin, tracing my muscles. By kissing me. By being in the same room with me.

  This isn’t good. It’s fucked up. She’s just paying to use my body¸ and I’m falling for her.

  Hell. I stroke her face, her skin like silk under my fingers, and bend my face to hers. I wanna kiss her so bad, but first I need to hear what she wants.

  I fucked up enough already tonight.

  “Tell me,” I command softly. “Tell me what you need from me.”

  She shifts against me and I bite back a groan because I’ve been fucking hard from the moment she told me her plans for tonight and walked into my arms.

  “Will you undress me?” she asks, her eyes still glistening with tears, and I wipe them with my thumbs. “And touch me.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more,” I vow fiercely. I put those tears there. I hurt her.

  Fuck, I wish I knew what I was doing.

  But I can undress her, touch her. I’m serious. There’s nothing else in the world right now, nobody else but her.

  She’s so pretty, I can’t believe she’s in my arms. That I get to run my hands over her body. I nuzzle her face, press my body into hers, and she gasps.

  I cover her mouth with mine, crush our lips together. My tongue finds hers, and a jolt of electric pleasure zaps down my spine.

  Need to stop before I come.

  Think of her, Riot. What she entrusted you with. And admit it, you want it so fucking bad you might scare her off.

  Yeah, right now I’m not sure which one of us is more afraid of the other.

  The thought fades in a rush of need when she starts kissing me back. Her small hands grip my forearms, her tongue tangles with mine, and she rubs on my body like a cat.

  Oh fuck, I’m going to lose it and bend her over right here, on the coffee table. Fast and hard.

  With an effort, I pull back, breaking the kiss, and walk her backward.

  “Riot?”

  “Shh. Let me.” I lay her down on the sofa, careful and slow when I just want to push up her dress and ram my cock into her.

  But I also want it to be good for her. So yeah, careful and slow is how we’ll be doing this, if it kills me.

  I kneel between her legs, stroke my hands over them. Her dress is soft and thin, and I can’t see buttons or a zipper or any other fucking way to take it off.

  Shit.

  She’s looking at me, those dark eyes wide, as I fumble with the dress. Finally I decide, fuck it, and pull it up, over her head. She squeals, and damn, I hope the thing’s not expensive, because something rips with a screech.

  Awesome, Riot. Jesus.

  When I finally get the cursed thing off her, though, she’s smiling and I’m speechless. Damn. Hell.

  She’s gorgeous. She’s just...fuck, curvy in all the right places, and that black bra is pushing up her tits and...it has to go. Now. Before I lose my mind.

  “Riot…” she whispers.

  “Yeah?” I can’t stop staring at her, her tits, her cute bellybutton, the tiny panties that barely cover her shaved pussy. God help me, the need to bury myself deep inside her is messing with my mind, won’t let me think.

  “Need you.”

  Hell, yeah. Me too, but I can’t say that. So I show her. I press my mouth to her breasts, take my time lowering the straps and kissing her shoulders. She smells of flowers and sugar, and I want to lick her all over.

  Take it slow, Riot. Remember?

  She moans when I take her nipple in my mouth and suck, teasing the other with my hand, tugging and twisting. Her sweet taste is intoxicating. I shift restlessly between her legs, my dick hard and heavy, weighing a ton, rubbing on the sofa. Every tiny shift sends burning sparks up my spine and makes stars flash in front of my eyes.

  I’m hanging on to self-control by a thin thread. If it breaks…

  Her hands tangle in my hair, and I look up, my tongue still teasing her hardened nipple. Her pupils are blown, her mouth slack, her hair a beautiful mess.

  Fuck slow. I need her now. I slide my hands around her back, find the clasp and undo her bra. I pull it off her, and grab her tits in my hands, squeezing them. Her head falls back on the cushions as I lick her nipples, one after the other, then circle them with my thumb until they’re hard dark peaks.

  God, this girl. She’s like a drug. I kiss a trail between her breasts, to her bellybutton, then lower, still playing with her nipples. I press my face to the thin strip of black lace between her legs, inhale her musky-sweet scent, and she arches up.

  “Please…” she mutters, and I stifle a groan against her barely-covered folds, my dick twitching.

  Down, boy. No coming yet.

  A deep breath to steady myself, and I drag down her panties. Oh shit, yeah, she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. All roses and pearls, her folds wet with arousal.

  “Fuck, Pax,” I breathe. “So perfect.”

  She’s watching me, eyes big as saucers, as I part her folds more, to see her better. Yeah, damn perfect. I stroke my thumb from her clit to her opening and she shudders.

  “Okay?” I try to ask, but my voice is stuck somewhere in my throat. I try again. “You doing okay?”

  She’s breathing hard, those pretty tits rising and falling, mesmerizing me. “Please, Riot, do it now. Need you in me.”

  I was gonna take more time, go down on her, make her come this way first, but fuck it. She wants it now, and the pressure in my dick is reaching combustion point.

  Promising myself to return to this later, show her in how many ways and how often she can come in one night, I reach for my jacket and pull out a condom from my pocket. I always have one on the ready.

  I pull the foil impatiently and roll the thing on, then crawl over her until we’re face to face. The head of my dick is nudging her entrance as I dip my head to kiss her.

  “You have done this before, right?” I belatedly remember to ask against her lips. So soft. So fucking soft and sweet.

  “Sort of,” she says, and I freeze.

  “What?”

  “Come on, Riot.” She puts her arms around my neck before I sit up. Her eyes are dark pools. “Do it before I lose my nerve.”

  “You’ve never done it before?”

  “I fooled around with a boy back before—” She bites her lip, and shit, she doesn’t want to remember, not now, and I’m forcing her to.

  So I c
lose my mouth over hers, thrust my tongue inside and kiss her like my life depends on it. Maybe it does. I roll my hips, and my cock breaches her, a slow, mind-blowing entry. She’s so fucking tight, and God, I don’t wanna hurt her.

  This has to be good for her. The best. I want tonight to erase her past, her pain. Replace it with pleasure.

  I break the kiss to kiss her neck, then prop myself on one hand and reach between us. Find her clit. Circle it. Tease it, make her moan.

  “Let it happen,” I whisper, lightly biting her earlobe, my thumb pressing on her clit. “Let me in, Pax.”

  Her opening spasms, flutters around the head of my cock, and it’s my turn to moan. Pressing my forehead to her neck, inhaling her scent, I push into her, inch by inch. Friction, pressure, heat. Oh fuck, this will be my undoing.

  I still, trying to gather the shreds of my self-control.

  This isn’t about you, Riot. You’re not allowed to come. Not until she comes. Not until she says you may.

  “Riot?” she breathes, and my gaze snaps up to her face.

  “You okay?”

  “Just…” Her hips tilt up and I grunt, fighting the rush of pleasure before it drags me under. “Move?”

  Move.

  Oh, yeah. Watching her face like a hawk for any sign of pain, I pull out an inch or two, then slide back inside.

  Fuck. My breath comes out in a shudder. Can’t remember the last time it felt so good. My hips roll without conscious thought and I have to struggle to still them again.

  Need to check. See her face. I plant both hands on the couch, on either side of her, and do a little push up that has us both gasping. Lightning pleasure shoots up my dick at the change of angle, and it’s all I can do not to come on the spot.

  “Pax. Okay?”

  Her face is scrunched up, and at first I’m not sure if it’s pain or fear or something else, but she tightens her hold around my neck and pulls me down to her.

  “So good,” she whispers and brings our mouths together in a long kiss. “More.”

  Yeah, baby. I move faster, in and out of her warm hold, her pussy clenching around me like a fist, and I shake with pleasure.

  “Oh God, Riot.” She writhes, her body arching into mine, one leg hooking over my hip. “Like this.”

  Shit. How am I ever gonna stop myself from coming now?

  Shivers ripple through me. My muscles tense, my stomach is one hard ball of need, and I keep moving, drinking in the tiny sounds she makes, taking in her naked body, sprawled like dessert underneath me.

  Need her to come. Before I do. Before I tumble headfirst into something that will shatter me completely.

  I lift her other leg over my hip, deepening my thrusts, and I reach again between us, touching her clit, and lower, where our bodies are joined.

  Wet. Hot. Slick.

  She cries out my name and clamps down on my dick like a vise. She starts coming, long shudders moving over my hard cock, and fuck, holding back hurts like a bitch. Sounds spill from my throat, moans and grunts, and her name, choked out and mangled. My jaw is clenched so hard it aches.

  I bend over her, panting, slowing down. “Pax...I need to come.”

  No reply. She’s still rippling around me, her nipples hard points pressed to my chest. She feels so fucking good it’s insane, and thinking about it isn’t helping. I try to keep still, but she’s still moving, shifting, milking my cock.

  Shitshitshit.

  “Pax,” I try again, burying my face in her neck. “Please.”

  “What?” She turns her face, her lips brushing over my cheek. “What is it?”

  “Can I come now?”

  There’s a stretch of silence. The sound of blood rushing in my ears, the thumping of my heart, her breathing, it’s all too loud.

  “You haven’t come?” she whispers, sounding horrified, and I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t so wound up with need I’m about to snap in two.

  “You can’t tell?”

  Her hips rock a little and I moan miserably, biting her neck lightly to stop the sound. My cock jerks and my balls pull up more, so fucking ready to spill.

  “Why not?”

  “You haven’t told me I could.” I hiss as my dick twitches again. I lift my head. “Agency regulations.”

  “God, Riot.” She lifts a hand to my face, strokes my cheek. “Yes, you may come. And it’s a given from now on.”

  From now on. She means…?

  My thoughts spin and fade into a whirlwind of sensation as she runs her hands down my chest to where we’re connected. Her fingers circle the base of my cock, then dart lower and cradle my balls.

  One touch, one squeeze is all it takes. I can’t stop a cry at the orgasm slamming into me, or the way my hips snap up and I hunch over her, my dick pulsing in great jolts of blinding pleasure.

  Oh shit, fucking hell, oh...I think I black out for a sec, my body shaking and my balls aching and my dick jerking and, fuck, too much. Too fucking awesome.

  And then she says, “Are you a fan of the Hellfire Fighters club?”

  Bringing the world tumbling down around me.

  ***

  Her fingers are buried in my hair, tugging lightly, sending tiny sparks of pleasure into my scalp and down my neck. I’m lying half on top of her on the sofa, half on the cushions, my dick still inside her.

  Shit. The condom.

  Moving, getting up is like swimming against a rip current. And besides...Holy shit, did she ask me about the club?

  “Need to throw away the condom,” I mutter and push myself up, pulling out of her. The pleasure is excruciating. I’m still half-hard.

  Yeah, insane. How much I want her. And now…

  “Those flame tattoos you have, and the one on your back. It says Hellfire.”

  “Just a sec.” I tug off the condom, tie it off. “Be right back.”

  “Riot.” Her voice stops me. “It’s a fight club.”

  I swallow hard against fear and anger. “You asked about it?”

  “I was at a tattoo shop with a friend. I was curious.”

  Fuck. I get up and find the bathroom, get rid of the condom and take a moment to breathe. I wash my hands, splash cold water on my face.

  When I return to the living room, she’s curled sideways on the sofa, watching me with her bright dark eyes.

  “You’re a fan?” she asks. “Of a fight club? That’s not a crime.”

  “It’s an illegal club,” I say. She thinks...“Why would you think I’m a fan?”

  She laughs. “Because of the tats?”

  Okay. Relax. She doesn’t think I’m a fighter.

  Probably because the agency say they screen their escorts. But I don’t have a rap sheet. No record of my past at the club.

  “Yeah.” I try for a smile, go to sit beside her, pull her to me. She doesn’t need to know. We’re not dating. My past is private. “Do you have any tats?”

  “No.” She shifts, pressing her back to my chest and I wrap her in my arms. Can’t believe she trusts me so much now. “But I think I’d love to get one, some day.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. My back?”

  “Love your back.” I kiss her nape, feel her shiver. “Love every part of you.”

  She hums, a content sound. She fits so perfectly in the curve of my body. I clutch at her as if she’ll vanish when I blink my eyes.

  “This is nice,” she murmurs and strokes my hand where it’s pressed to her belly. “Tell me more.”

  “About what?”

  “About the Hellfire Fighters.”

  Shit.

  “What’s wrong?” She tries to twist around, but I hold her more tightly.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Hellfire Fighters.” I close my eyes, and time reverses. I’m back at the club, having my hands wrapped up for a fight, my heart racing. “It’s one of the fight clubs of the southern suburbs. Quite well known in underground fighting circles. Been up against clubs from Detroit, Milwaukee and Madison and won many times. It�
�s a tightly-knit group of guys—a few girls, too—and they train hard. For money. They come from poor families and foster homes. Sometimes, fighting in the club is their only hope.”

  “A hope for what?”

  “A future. Money needed to live, to rent a place, to get food on their plate. Not to worry about every dawning day.”

  “Riot…” She turns her head, trying again to see me.

  “Shh.” I’m so tired I’m falling asleep, and I don’t even care how long I’ve been here, or if I have any appointments later. “Everything’s fine.”

  Because right now she’s in my arms and nothing else matters.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Paxtyn

  It’s been a week since I did it. Since I had sex with Riot, and it was amazing. He felt so frigging good, on me, in me, his mouth and hands all over me. He looked so sexy as he came, and so…vulnerable at the same time. The raw need in his eyes, the sounds escaping him, the way he lost control of his body, lying heavy on top of me…

  Loved it all. Loved how he held me afterward. Cuddling. On my sofa.

  God, love everything about him, and it’s…

  Not good. Not at all.

  At least Christmas is approaching fast, and Christmas break. I need time at home to catch up on my studies. Hard to sit still and read when my thoughts keep returning to Riot.

  Or to why I can’t seem to be able to make another appointment with him. I glance at my cell phone that’s sitting on my bedside table as I struggle to focus on my history of psychology. Suddenly Riot’s one busy escort. I must have called the agency twenty times since I last saw him, but it seems he’s booked every day solid. Sold out.

  Holy crap. Shaking my head, trying to dislodge images of him with other women, I return to my reading. Or try to.

  What wasn’t he telling me about the fight club? Did he work there? Somehow I feel the answer under his words, that little, passionate speech about the sort of people working at the club, about their background and their fears and hopes.

  As if he was one of them, once.

  I want—no, I need to know more about him.

  Yes, I know it’s a bad idea. All this is stupid, thinking about him, wondering. Missing him.

  Blinking back tears, I jump off my bed and pace my room. Have to get my head out of this funk. Doesn’t help that Corey’s currently obsessed with his tattoo guy and boyfriend number X, and is never around.