by Savannah May
When the club closes, I wait outside for her again. In the shadows like a fucking animal because I have no way of knowing who's watching. I don’t care. All that matters is that Dusty Rose comes out and gets home safely. No fucking pig is gonna touch one hair on her head.
When she emerges, she looks all around for me and I step into the light enough that she knows I'm here for her. Even if I can't pull her under my arm and take her home with me where she belongs. She almost skips to her car when she sees me. Just knowing I'm here seems to bring her immense pleasure.
“Come home with me,” she'd begged and pleaded as the club was closing up.
“Star, last orders are done,” Tree-trunk Nero had ordered before I had the chance to calm her. Like he has fucking control of my kitten.
He's a fucking truckload of mountain rock but still I came close to fisting his face for speaking to her like that. Dusty Rose ran off before I had the chance to set any plans with her. Or to tell her that there's no way we can spend the night together.
I mount my bike and follow her home and all I can think of is being in her bed. Like before. Now I can trail my ravenous tongue across every part of her. All I want is to part her soft thighs and spread her pussy to drink up all her juices as she quivers on my tongue.
Except I can't. It's far too risky and if I get sent back, who will take care of her?
She seeks me out when she parks and climbs eagerly from her car. From a distance, I shake my head roughly at the questioning look on her beautiful face. She pouts but heads inside, not pushing me any further than she already has tonight.
Which was right over the fucking edge.
I wait until I see the light in her apartment go on, then off again shortly after. I imagine her perfect body curled up in bed without me and it takes everything I have not to break into the building, adding another misdemeanor to my count. Instead I return to my small crappy apartment, not wanting to be in the luxury place I rented for her, not unless she's there at my side.
Another night passes in a fever of thinking of Dusty Rose, until I can rise and drive back to her building to wait for another glimpse of her. Surely, living like this, at a distance from the only thing I want, is going to send me down in flames.
Chapter FOURTEEN
Dusty Rose
My sheets seem to come alive like the roots of a magical tree, having knotted themselves around me during the night. Sleep crusts my lashes and I know I slept really badly.
I'm horny as hell and the loneliness is driving me out of my mind, straight through every pore. Plus- I'm out of freaking coffee.
I pick up my phone but I don't have Killian's number. Shit, how have we not done that? Exchanged numbers and stuff.
Maybe he won't even allow me his number. He said something about not being able to email or contact me at all. I lift my hand to throw the phone across the room but control my temper and instead, I text Vick, the other waitress from the club. She's basically the closest thing to a friend I have now, the only one, and I ask her to meet me.
Vick walks into the coffee shop looking all around and blinking like she's woken up in a foreign country. She does look out of her element here if I'm honest. At the club, she's the oldest in years and amount of time served. She dominates the roost and keeps control of the johns, as we refer to them, even without help from Nero. It's like her private domain.
Here she's just another girl wondering what the fuck to do with her life.
“I got you a pumpkin spice frappuccino, extra whip,” I tell her, indicating the two cups on the table.
She looks at the drink like it's a bucket of slime and sits down, looking around like she's waiting for the feds.
Shit, I wish that analogy hadn't come to me.
Killian's perfect rugged face soars into my mind, launching an army stamping through my heart. His handsome features battered by the pain I put him through. I can't even imagine what being locked in a rat pen must have been like for him, the man-god with the fabulous life.
Or at least it was until showed up. The rich and stunning man that could have anything ruined. I wriggle in my seat to eradicate the throb between my thighs and focus on spending this time with my new friend.
“Try it, you'll like it,” I say. “Are you okay? You look, I don't know, disoriented.”
“It's eleven o-fucking-thirty,” she says. “How am I supposed to look. I never been in one of these places.”
“You've never been in Starbucks?” I repeat, getting a glare in return. What rock has she been snoozing under?
“More to the point, are you okay?” she snaps, but not unkindly.
“I'm fine. I'm fantastic.”
She looks at me dubiously and takes a tentative sip of her drink. She wrinkles her nose, then sticks her finger in the whip and licks it off.
“I am,” I insist. “Why do you ask?”
“You popped your cherry last night,” she says bluntly.
“Ohmigod was it written all over me?” First everyone can tell I'm a virgin, then it's blatantly obvious to the entire club that I've been carded. I'm a walking freaking billboard, advertising my sexual status.
“Cupcake, I watched you climb on that dude after begging me to give him to you couple nights ago.”
“Thank you. I owe you still for that, I haven't forgotten,” I say. “Not about the tips either.”
She waves me off.
“Imma sayin' he came back for more. You went to a fucking private with him.”
“It's not like you think. We're -”
“You weren't like that though,” she interrupts. “You were a good girl, now you got a john. Although I gotta say a fucking gorgeous one. He's about the best looking fucker I ever seen.”
“Seriously it isn't like you think,” I say.
“It never is.”
I tell Vick the entire story. She listens in silence, but she really listens. Her eyes don't get wide and she doesn't snap gum or interrupt me with, “Wow that's so gross,” or any of the other lame remarks my old friends would have made.
Vick hears me out and nods like a wise old mamma even though she's barely thirty. I realize that's why I called her. I need someone who can listen while I tell my story before it explodes inside me. When I'm done she looks at me. I think she's gonna rip me one for being a slut or an idiot or something. Then she smiles.
“You got it bad, Cupcake,” she says.
“I do. I have it so, so bad and I have no idea what to do.”
“He's the one you told me about. The one that wrenched your heart.”
I nod.
“He has it bad too,” she says.
“He does? You can tell that?”
“It's like a frigging beacon shining out of him. He never takes his eyes off you. I was worried at first he was some kind of obsessed stalker. Although in his case, if it was me, I wouldn't be filing no complaints.”
I giggle and relax a bit.
“I know. He's so handsome it makes me ache.”
“And he looks even more stunning when he gets that look of love come over him when he's watching you. It's not all sex, you know.”
“He's my best friend,” I say.
“Just be careful. Don't get so hormoned up that you do something stupid and he gets caught, you know what I'm saying?”
Like before, she means. I'm not that self-centered little girl now. I have to think of someone else. I can do that for Killian. It's the best feeling in the world to put him first, before my wants. Like he always did for me.
“But I need to see him,” I say, dejected. “We don't get a chance to talk in the club.”
“I'll have a word with Nero,” Vick says, diving into the cream again.
“No, don't tell anyone about this, especially not Nero,” I squeal.
“I won't say nothing, I'll just tell him he doesn’t have to worry and follow you around the club.”
“He was worried about me?”
I'm shocked. He's never been anything other than bruta
l, aside from the odd lewd gaze at my body.
“Yeah, Cupcake, we all were. Seeing you get on the sex worker wagon was a surprise.”
“Having the man I love pay me for sex, even to be able to touch me, is pretty weird,” I admit.
“Kinda hot. Now can we please get the hell outta here? These people are giving me toothache.”
Vick can't get out of there quick enough, to head back to her bed for a nap before work. So I wander around the mall a while, unsure what to do with myself. I'm jittery with thoughts of Killian and check my phone clock constantly. The time moves forward ridiculously slowly.
I'm so desperate to start my shift and see him again, I don't know what to do with myself to make that hour come sooner. It seems as though a part of me is missing without him at my side. Or with his cock so far inside my body, my pussy lips wrap and cosset the root.
I need that and will never let it go. Unless Killian is in real danger. I pray he won't tell me that we can't see each other. Because if he means it, I'll go along. There's no way I want to be the cause of any harm or for him to be sent away again.
I'd do anything to keep him safe.
Chapter FIFTEEN
Killian
I'm right there soon as the doors open, following behind the first punters inside the club. I reckon I'm gonna become a deranged wild beast if I have to sit in this dump another night, let alone the six more months until the restraining order is lifted. When I see her walking around the half empty joint, with her perky little step, her tits bobbing so I want to pop one in my mouth and nibble its delicious little point, a volcanic surge rushes through me.
“Good evening, Sir,” she whispers in her sexy little girl voice. “Did you sleep well?”
I cup her firm ass cheek under the flirty skirt and pull her to me. Hard, so her eyes pop wide. The soft aroma from between her thighs brings me to the brink of delirium. Intoxicating. It requires every effort not to tear her tiny underwear to the side and bury my tongue inside her pussy.
I need a taste of her. I don't need to sit here and watch over her, unable to touch her. I need her in my bed where I can touch her soft skin, caress her with my lips and fingers all night.
“No, I slept like a fucking convict,” I gnarl out. “This is driving me insane. I can't keep this up. I can't watch you working here and not be able to hold you in my arms, talk to you, touch you.”
“I know,” she mewls. “I need that too. I need you to hold me in your arms and touch me.”
“I want you in that room. Now.”
“I can't. We've only just opened.”
“I don't give a fuck. I want you there in two minutes.”
I get up and stride purposefully across the slowly-filling club and into “our” room. It's hardly the kind of place I dreamed of fucking my princess. She doesn't appear right away so I stretch out on the couch with my eyes on the door, waiting for her with my breath hitching.
“Sorry. I had to serve a regular and get -” She comes dashing in, equally overwrought.
“Come here,” I interrupt her.
She rushes straight at me.
“Stop.” I command.
She does as I say, her eyes wide with confusion.
“Panties. Take them off.”
She laughs softly, and slowly slides her skirt, barely more than a waistband ruff, up over her hips. Her smooth-shaved pussy lips are visible through the transparent fabric. Her smile reads satisfaction as her gaze darts to my dick and finds it throbbing hard.
She gulps down and slowly, painfully fucking slowly, the little tease slips the underwear down over her pretty slit. While my breath is trapped in my throat, she turns around and bends over to drag the panties down her legs, exposing her round ass cheeks and her two tight little holes. One tight and dark, the other glistening with her slick juice.
Searing need is like daggers stabbing at me, I want her so hard. I bring my abs on board to lift my torso to sitting with every intention of giving that rosy round ass a good spanking for the way she's torturing me and relishing every moment. But the scent of her is overwhelming.
As she's about to tug her lace panties over her huge heels, I slap my hands over her cheeks and pull her apart. She squeals as I expose her puckered hole and her soaked pussy to the air and my ravenous eyes. The sight of her pussy entrance, pink and shimmering with lust for me sends me straight over the edge, direct to hell.
My fingertips hook her hips and tug her pulsating spread onto my face. She moans out as my tongue delves straight into her soaked hollow and laps up all the sweet nectar pooled there. She moans and whines, panting as I shove all the way inside her tight tunnel while my hands grip her little thighs. My fingertips pull her chasm apart while rubbing both her asshole and her prodding little clit.
She starts to shudder with her orgasm already rising. It can't be particularly comfortable, bent over, holding her ankles for support. So I slide my tongue out of her pussy and turn her around. Her eyes widen at the sight of my stubble all sparkly with her juice.
She reaches out a finger to stroke my lower lip but we're way past gentle caresses here.
Without unhooking it, I tear the thin fabric of her bra down so her tits pop out and twist her nipple in my fingers until she cries out. Then I spin her around again and pull her back with me as I lie down on the couch again, so she straddles me like she likes.
But now I'm in control.
Dusty Rose's little hand reaches to free my cock but I'm not allowing it. I haul her easily up my torso and over my rough chin. She's a rag doll to me, pliant and simple to maneuver where I want her. I push her thighs wider apart so her pussy mouth is stretched wide open and slam her entrance onto my devouring mouth.
She tastes as unbelievably fucking divine as I knew she would. I shove my tongue deeper into her as she thrusts back on me, pumping her slit back and forth across my stubble.
“Oh, you feel so good,” she moans, savoring the combination of rough skin and smooth sliding tongue.
I give her another sensation, by prodding the powerful tip at her spot and she almost instantly unravels, spasming over and over and leaking juice over my cheeks.
So fucking delicious.
She's undone, her body limp from coming so violently on my face, but she wants more. She tugs my diamond hard blade out of my pants and tries to flip over to slide down my torso.
“No.” I pull her hips back so she's sitting right under my chin. “I wanna look at your pussy while you suck me.”
“Okay, boss,” she says, eagerly compliant.
She bends forward, opening her slit to my view, and her mouth sliding over my length makes me groan out loud. I let her take control of however much of me she can fit in and she takes it like a superwoman. She goes at my dick like she adores it, like all she wants to do is lap me and lick me and tighten her soft lips around its wide girth.
That alone has my balls set to explode. In combination with watching her pussy twitch with afterglow pulsations, it's a fucking time bomb. I tease my fingers at both her holes as she pumps my dick in her mouth. One finger corkscrewing deep inside her pussy, the other rimming her tightly resistant rear hole.
I can tell by how unyielding the muscle is, she's also never indulged in any ass play. The flicker of a question interrupts my ecstasy.
What the fuck did she do with that pussy Brendan?
Not much obviously, and I'm ferocious fucking glad of that. It makes her completely mine. I massage her into relaxation and slide a finger a little way into her rear hole so I'm in both her pretty holes as she swallows all of me.
She wriggles around to nestle into my arm for the first time since we came together again. This is where I want her.
Always.
Until a rough banging on the door makes me jump and calls us back to vile reality.
“We only get twenty minutes in here,” she groans, leaping up to put her clothing back together.
“Fuck that,” I growl. “Just stay in here and let me buy you a
gain. Jeez, I cannot believe I'm saying that.”
“I can't. It's not allowed,” she moans, a quick kiss, a taste of our mixed sweetness on her lips and she disappears through the door.
Chapter SIXTEEN
Dusty Rose
Vick is giving me a smug grin when I dash back to the bar to pick up my orders.
“What the fuck, Star,” Tony, the bartender, who thinks he's manager and owner too, asks. “You got customers waiting.”
“Shut up, Tony. I had them covered,” Vick shuts him down with a look and I fire her one of gratitude.
“Thanks.”
She and I watch Killian emerge from the private room and cross the club to his table, glaring with barely restrained anger at every guy in the joint. He seats himself and his entire body is rigid, his fists clenched, his jaw rigid.
“Whatdja do to him?” Vick whispers. “He doesn't look like he got a happy ending.”
“He doesn't like me working here. He wants me home and in school.”
“That's so sweet,” she says. “I wish I had a Killian Daddy.”
“Shh. He's not my dad.”
I'm nervous that someone might overhear and put two and two to make five about my relationship with Killian. This whole situation has me on edge, as much as I feel like I'm floating on a happy bubble while I move through the tables dropping off drinks, scooting out of an outreached hand trying to pinch me.
I know Killian would punch anyone to the ground for touching me. I have to protect him from any more trouble on my account.
“I need to talk to you, Baby,” he grits out through clenched teeth, not looking up at me when I drop off a drink at his table.
My heart leaps about, afraid that he's going to ditch this hopeless situation. Or maybe I'm a disappointment to him after waiting so long.
“I fucking need you,” he bites out.
“Okay,” I almost whimper. “Meet me at the mall tomorrow.”
