Junkie (Broken Doll #1)

by Heather C. Leigh

  “Fuck.” Watching Miri work her breasts caused my brain to erase whatever we were talking about, forgotten in an instant. Lightning quick, I tore off all of my clothes and stripped her jeans and panties off, adding them to the piles of fabric surrounding the blanket.

  “Hurry, Jag.” Miri was still working those tight pink buds, twisting and rolling them between her fingers while her spine curved off the ground. Miri’s legs fell apart as she licked her lips and I nearly came at the sight.

  “Jesus Christ, doll.” Naked, I climbed back on top of her, lowering myself, our skin scorching hot when we touched. Electricity snapped and sizzled between us and I could practically feel the shower of sparks as we came together.

  Miri licked up and down my throat, swirling her wicked tongue over the sensitive skin and taut tendons. When she sank her sharp teeth into the thick flesh at the junction of my neck and shoulder—the same as I did to her in the garage—a primal snarl tore from my throat and in one brutal stroke, I shoved my cock deep into her tight, wet heat without warning. Miri cried out against my skin and bit deep into the hard muscle.

  “Son of a bitch. Ungh… Yes! Fuck, Miri. Mark me, doll.” I hissed and gritted my teeth as the pain of her bite sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my cock. “You fucking make me lose my mind. Goddamn!” Miri finally released me and dropped her head back to the blanket, her eyes closed in ecstasy. “You like marking me, doll?” Miri keened, unable to form words, her eyelids fluttering open and closed as I pounded into her tight pussy.

  I pulled all the way out and her eyes flew wide open. Before she could protest, I grabbed her by the hips, flipped her to her stomach, and thrust back in. She wailed, shuddering with pleasure. I needed more contact with that soft skin, so I curled over her, covering her small body with mine, licking beads of sweat off the nape of her neck.

  “Oh god, Jag… M-more.” Miri was thrashing beneath my heavy weight. I caught her hands and twined our fingers together to hold her still, then hooked her ankles with my feet, rendering her immobile.

  “Don’t move, doll. Just feel.” Sweat dripped from my brow as I fucked her into the ground under the hot Texas sun. “Feel every inch of my cock as it claims your pussy.”

  “I’m… ohgod, ohgod, ohgod… Jag!”

  Miri’s entire body stiffened and she began to shudder almost violently. Her legs trembled and her breath hitched. A tingle shot down my spine and the familiar tightening in my balls let me know I was close. Our fingers tightened, gripping each other so hard it hurt.

  “God, Miri… I’m gonna come. Oh shit.” I dropped my forehead to her shoulder and found my mark. I swiped my tongue over the dark bruise before biting it fiercely, sucking the sensitive flesh into my mouth as she cried out.

  Miri jerked forcefully and seconds later her pussy gripped my cock as she let out a long wail. Her body clenching, Miri exploded into a loud, powerful climax, dragging me right over the edge with her. I came with a roar, shoving my cock into her slick heat as deep as possible while cum erupted from me in endless spurts of unthinkable ecstasy.

  Dripping with sweat and exhausted, I fell to the blanket and closed my eyes to catch my breath. I could hear Miri next to me panting. I must have nodded off because the next thing I knew, something freezing cold and wet pressed against my ribs.

  “Holy fuck!” I jerked to a sitting position and found Miri giggling uncontrollably, an icy bottle of water in her hand. I dragged my fingers through my hair and grinned. “You little…” Miri smirked and I couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. Her joy sure was something to see. “That wasn’t very nice.”

  “I’m sorry.” Her tired grin let me know she was anything but sorry. Damn, but I loved this fun, playful Miri. It was so rare to see her relaxed and carefree.

  “Yeah, sure.” I took the bottle and drank half of it down.

  “You should get dressed, Jag. You’re going to get sunburnt.” As I chugged the rest of the water, I raked my greed eyes over Miri’s body, disappointed to see she already had most of her clothes on.

  “I’m not a pasty-white ginger, doll. I don’t burn, I tan.”

  “Don’t make fun of me, you jerk.” She giggled and shoved my shoulder.

  I grabbed my clothes and threw them on, knowing we could have company at any time. The park might normally be slow this time of year, but that didn’t mean no one would stumble across us. After I shoved everything into the pack and started toward the Ducati, Miri grabbed my arm.

  “What is it, doll?” Her playful expression was gone. Tiny lines formed between Miri’s brows and she chewed on her lower lip. “Hey, tell me. I won’t be angry, I promise.”

  She released her lip and met my gaze. “I want to look for a job.”

  My eyebrows just about launched into the air they flew up so fast. I was not expecting that. “A job?”

  “I can’t live off of you forever, Jag. I need to do something. I was happy when I was working. You said I’m drug free?” She waited for me to nod in confirmation before continuing. “I want to go back to work. I supported myself for two and a half years working in a garage.”

  “You did?”

  Miri stuck out her lower lip and I found it incredibly difficult not to lean over and suck on the shiny pink flesh. “Is that so hard to believe?”

  Blinking, I tore my eyes from her mouth to focus back on her blue-green irises. “Not at all. It’s actually… kind of sexy.” I waggled my eyebrows and she laughed, a rare sight that I greedily devoured. “A job, huh? Okay.”

  “Really?” Her eyes widened and she looked at me in what could only be described as awe. I stepped close and took that beautiful face in my hands, giving her a chaste kiss.

  “Anything you want, doll.”

  I wanted to ask Miri how she ended up hooked on H and living with that fuckwit Mason. Apparently, she had a good job and was making a decent living. Why the hell would she leave that to be with such a monumental loser? I held my tongue because I knew if I pushed too hard, Miri would shut down. She hadn’t let me all the way in and still didn’t trust me completely. I was confident, though. Miri would eventually let me see all of her, and when she did, I would slay all her demons and do everything in my power to keep that gorgeous smile on her face.

  Anything.

  12

  Miri

  Clean.

  I was clean for the first time in months and hadn’t even known. Maybe I should have been angry at Jag’s high-handedness, but all I felt was overwhelming gratitude. Jag, Boss—a ruthless, violent criminal—was the only person in my entire life, besides Cat, who actually cared about me and my well-being. Every time I learned something new about the enigmatic man, I fell a little bit harder for the drug lord with the hidden heart of gold.

  Since our day at the lake a week ago, I hadn’t seen much of Jag. No one would tell me what was going on, not that I would ask, but I wasn’t stupid. Something was off and whatever it was had everyone around the house on edge. The number of Men in Black walking the grounds doubled, and Jag’s right-hand man, the super creepy Milo, was a constant presence. He had even taken to sleeping in the bedroom right next to mine. The thought of that scary thug being so close made me shudder, especially the nights Jag didn’t come to my bed.

  Being shut out stung. I wanted to comfort Jag, be there for him like he was there for me in my time of need. But there wasn’t a chance in hell that the boss of a huge drug syndicate would confide in some former junkie he was fucking, no matter how much he seemed to care or how tender and loving he appeared in bed. As much as I wanted to believe what I was feeling with Jag was reciprocated, I knew better. Once I was on my feet, I’d leave before Jag had to throw me out. It would be less humiliating that way.

  If I’d learned one thing since Cat vanished, it was that no one did anything without expecting something in return, so while I might be in over my head and slowly falling for Jag when in reality I should run far, far away, I had no illusions of what I was to him. He wasn’t going to sweep me off my f
eet, buy me my dream house, and live happily ever after. I just had to be sure to protect my heart in the meantime.

  “We’re here, ma’am.”

  Frank’s voice snapped me out of my wandering thoughts.

  “Oh, thanks. Ummmm, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” As I reached for the door handle, Frank cleared his throat. I looked at him over my shoulder.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” His dark eyes flicked to the shabby garage. A two story building made with crumbling bricks, the window frames showing signs of rot. The rusty bay doors were rolled up and tough-looking men in coveralls were either half under cars or immersed in conversations with each other while gesturing toward various vehicles. The familiarity of it comforted me.

  “I’ll be fine, Frank.”

  His concern was kind of sweet, but I knew his behavior was more out of his fear of Boss should anything happen to me on his watch, than actual worry for my safety. Either way, Frank’s help was unnecessary. I’d been in situations much, much worse than this. I gave him a tiny smile and climbed out of the car. When I glanced back, I noticed Frank’s sharp gaze boring into me, tracking my progress as I crossed the dusty lot to a desk wedged into a too small space in the front corner of the garage. Behind it sat a big, heavily muscled man who dwarfed the straining chair that held his bulk, a loud industrial fan blowing humid air at his back.

  My cheeks grew warm as I felt every set of eyes land on me the second I set foot in the humid space.

  The Sasquatch at the desk didn’t seem to notice the sudden silence or my presence in front of him. Head down, he had a phone to his ear and an invoice on his desk. He was clearly upset, arguing with whoever was on the other end about receiving the wrong part. When he hung up, he let out a long sigh and dragged his grease-stained hands down his face. He spotted me and his hands stopped halfway.

  The big guy looked me up and down and his mouth fell open. He dropped his hands to his desk and cocked his head to the side while squinting. “Howdy.”

  The prickle of a full-body blush made the sweaty garage even hotter. Being under the intense scrutiny of so many men at once was embarrassing. Memories of how hard I’d had to work to prove myself to the men at my old garage flooded my mind. I was as good a mechanic, or better, than more than half of them. Once my coworkers saw my work, they grudgingly accepted me as one of their own, girl or not. Winning over a whole new group would suck, but I would do whatever it took to get my life back.

  You can do this, Miri.

  “Hi. I’m Miriam Murphy… Miri,” I said, extending a hand across the desk.

  The loud scrape of the metal chair on concrete rattled my teeth as the man stood. I swallowed, forcing myself to breathe as he towered over me, a good three inches taller than Jag, who wasn’t a short man by any means. I reminded myself that Frank was only a few yards away in the car and gathered my wits, forcing out a smile.

  The man blinked in shock before his calloused hand wrapped around mine. “Beau Clayton.” After a hearty shake, he let go and gave me another once-over, one eyebrow raised. “So, what can I do fer ya, young lady?”

  I curled my fingers into my palm, digging my short nails into the soft flesh to keep from chickening out. “I wanted to apply for the motorcycle mechanic job you have posted.”

  This time, Beau didn’t even try to hide his surprise. His eyes widened comically and his mouth curved into a crooked grin. He was a good-looking guy, kind of like a bulky blond cowboy in coveralls instead of chaps and a backwards ball cap instead of a Stetson.

  “A mechanic, huh? Little thing like you? Aren’t you afraid of breakin’ a nail or somethin’, darlin’?”

  I held up my hands, making sure Beau got a good look at my short, chipped nails, dark half-moons of grease beneath each one.

  “Does it look like I care about my nails?” It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

  Beau chuckled and gestured toward a mud-splattered, but fairly new, Honda dirt bike. “Show me what you can do. Hank here was just fixin’ to check the transmission and see what’s causin’ the owner a ton of headaches. Impress me, sweetheart, and you got yerself a job.”

  * * *

  Several hours later, Jag still wasn’t home. In fact, once I thought about it, I realized I hadn’t seen him since yesterday, and that was only a fleeting glance when he breezed into the house to lock himself in his study with a half dozen of his men. We didn’t have a chance to make eye contact or speak a single word before Jag vanished, surrounded by Milo and the Men in Black, deep, menacing scowls on each and every one of their faces.

  They looked so angry and intimidating, chills broke out over my skin when they marched by. The way they surrounded Jag as they swooped down the hall kind of reminded me of a battalion of Stormtroopers following Darth Vader around the Death Star.

  I must have conked out while waiting, because a loud bang startled me out of a deep sleep. Heart racing, it took me a minute to regain my bearings and remember I was in the front sitting room, waiting for Jag to pull into the circular drive so I could tell him the good news about my new job. Outside was pitch black and the room was bathed in shadows. It was later than I thought.

  I began to lift myself off the couch when the front door slammed open and several angry voices echoed in the foyer. My stomach dropped and I hesitated at the threshold of the sitting room.

  Do I go out there? Do I stay hidden in here?

  One of the voices definitely belonged to Jag, and one to Milo, but the others could have been any one of the rotating Men in Black. There was only one way out of this room, and it led straight into the hall off the foyer where the commotion was ensuing. Unnerved, I was about to curl back up on the couch and wait until everyone calmed down or disappeared when Jag let out a loud, primal roar that made my pulse spike and my blood run cold. The shout was immediately followed by an ear-splitting crash.

  Well, that made my decision easy.

  No way could I sit idly by and listen to Jag tear up the house or get hurt in a fight. If Jag was in that much pain, I wanted to be there to help in any way I could. He had been there for me when I was at my lowest; now it was my turn to return the favor.

  Without thinking, I darted into the hall, barefoot, and skidded to a stop, nearly knocking over one of the Men in Black. My heart broke at the sight of Jag, his beautiful face purple with rage, his chest and cheek pressed brutally against the wall. Milo and another man were using all of their combined strength to keep Jag pinned. Milo had Jag’s arm twisted cruelly behind his back as Jag struggled to get free. I glanced around and saw a beautiful antique curio cabinet upended, the decorative glass panels scattered across the marble floor in thousands of glittering pieces.

  “Ma’am, be careful.” One of the men thrust an arm out to keep me from walking on the glass shards with my bare feet.

  Jag was in such a state, he didn’t notice me step into the hall only a few yards away. Unfortunately, Milo noticed. His dark, hostile gaze landed on me and icy fear penetrated my skin, terror penetrating all the way to my bones. Even while using all his strength to subdue a thrashing and cursing Jag, Milo’s intimidating stare never left my face. Milo’s expression could only be described as absolute, raw hatred. Directed solely at me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as the big man’s lips curled into a nasty sneer.

  “Get the fuck out of here, bitch!” Milo snapped. Spit flew from his mouth.

  I flinched, dizzy from the lack of blood flow, all of it having rushed out of my head and into my feet, and I shivered from the sudden cold. Milo’s venomous words wrapped around my throat, squeezing tight and rendering me speechless. Silence fell like a thick curtain throughout the foyer and Jag stopped struggling. He went completely still for the first time since storming through the front door. It was so quiet I could hear the loud whooshing of my heartbeat thudding behind my ears.

  “Let go of me,” Jag rasped, breaking the silence. His voice was a low growl, his words a sharp staccato as he took shallow
breaths, rapidly exhaling against the unforgiving wall.

  The Man in Black immediately removed his hands from his boss and stepped away. Milo, however, remained in place, pushing against Jag’s back, wrenching Jag’s arm further up between his shoulder blades at a painful angle. Milo’s furious gaze never left mine, despite his boss’s orders. His focus on me was so singular, I wondered if he even heard Jag speak.

  Shaken to the core, my mouth and throat went dry. I licked my chapped lips and there was no moisture to wet them. If looks could kill, I’d be dead a thousand times from Milo’s loathing glare.

  “If you don’t get your fucking hands off of me this second, you won’t live to see tomorrow.” It was Jag’s pointed threat that finally snapped Milo out of his trance. Milo sneered and released me from his predatory stare. I gasped as I inhaled, not aware I had been holding my breath throughout the standoff.

  The second Milo let go of Jag’s arm Jag spun in a blur of motion and slammed his lieutenant to the opposite wall, pressing a thick forearm against Milo’s throat. Jag magically produced the biggest, scariest knife I’d ever laid eyes on, and held the black serrated blade to Milo’s cheek, eyes blazing and teeth bared.

  Holy shit…

  13

  Boss

  Tonight was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. Los Guerreros caught the men Milo assigned to follow their boss, El Cuchillo, and executed them without contacting me or giving me a heads-up. It was an unspoken code to notify another boss if you intended on killing his men—deals were put together, lives spared, compromises made. Not that fucking piece of shit bastard. He sliced through Seven and Jimmy’s throats right outside his compound, in full view of our other team. I had no doubt he did it on purpose to antagonize me into a war. I obviously underestimated how insulted El Cuchillo was when I turned down his offer to enter the sex trade.

  If that motherfucker wanted a goddamn war, that was exactly what he’d fucking get.