I lifted my hands to the neck line of her shirt and pulled it apart, exposing her lace covered tits. I bent my head and closed my mouth over the lace, dragging the flimsy fabric down with my teeth until I freed one of her nipples.
I took it between my teeth, sucked on it before running my tongue over it, as my hands dragged her pants down. I grazed her nipple one more time before leaning back and removing her pants completely. She was wearing a skimpy thong that barely covered her and when I leaned back to stare at her, really taking her in, she hooked her thumbs beneath the waist band and dragged the underwear down her legs.
She would be my death.
But I’d remember her in the depths of hell.
The innocent girl with the sad eyes that begged me to take her pain away.
I wasn’t sure if it was the drugs or my head playing fucking mind games with me but as I walked towards her, unbuttoning my jeans and freeing my throbbing cock, my eyes locked with hers and the pain faded from those dark eyes and was replaced with desire.
I reached for her hips, pulling her to the edge of the desk and positioned myself between her legs. My head spun, my conscience resurrected as I wrapped my hand around my cock and peered at her through the hair that covered my eyes.
What the fuck was I doing?
Committing suicide.
She lifted her hand to my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes and forced me to look at her.
“Leather and Lace,” she whispered, covering my hand with her own.
The thread of control I was grasping, finally frayed, and I grabbed her hands, pinning them to her sides as I closed my eyes and drove my dick deep inside of her. She screamed out, her head falling onto my shoulder as she remained perfectly still. I couldn’t move either; her fucking pussy was so tight. I turned my head just as she did and saw the tears in her eyes.
Shit.
I removed my hands that kept hers flat against the desk and started to pull out when she lifted her arms around my neck and held me close.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded.
I slowly pulled out and more carefully charged back in, repeatedly until I stretched her enough that I could slide in and out without killing us both. She arched her hips, and that was all the encouragement I needed to drive home, still, I restrained from all I wanted to do to her. I could fuck her until the sun rose, every which way, with my mouth, my cock and my fingers.
Never stop fucking her.
Because I was an addict, and I realized, balls deep in the sweetest, tightest pussy, I ever had wrapped around my dick, Lacey was my new drug.
I’d never get enough.
I wanted to stay high on her all the time.
Until I fucking died.
Bury me, girl.
End me.
I lost it. I fucking lost my mind and my control as I gripped her hips and pumped her harder and harder with each stroke until she was gasping for breath and I was coming. I heard the moan escape my lips as her pussy milked every drop from my dick.
I fought for control, for breath, and for clarity. I felt her hands travel up my back to my neck and toy with the ends of my hair.
Clarity came first.
I had just fucked the girl I always tried to protect, to shelter from the darkness and now I was her darkness. I crossed a line in my quest to end my pain and took something I had no business having. I told myself I did it because I was searching for the end, the end of my life, the end of the suffering I liked to inflict upon myself. But, this, having her, taking her, it was just the beginning.
I lifted my hands and pulled hers away from me.
Breathe.
I took a deep breath and pulled out of her and looked down at my cock, covered in my release and her blood, her fucking innocence.
I lifted my eyes to her as she stared at my dick before meeting my gaze.
“Blackie,” she started.
The control never came.
She didn’t have to say the words, the evidence was on me and reflected in her eyes.
“You need to get the fuck out of here,” I growled, angry with her for not telling me, livid that I didn’t realize it first, disgusted by the realization I polluted the purest thing I had ever known.
“It’s okay,” she struggled, as I backed away from her and she hopped off the desk. “I wanted that to happen. Blackie, don’t do that, don’t shut me out,” she begged as she reached for me.
“Get dressed,” I ordered.
“But—,” she argued.
“GET DRESSED!”
I turned my back to her, bending down to pick up my shirt and wipe the evidence of her and me from my cock before pulling up my pants. I didn’t turn around and look at her. I heard her sniffle, and shuffle around the room collecting her shit as I walked to my nightstand and grabbed a vile of heroin and a syringe I kept tucked away in my drawer.
I filled the syringe before knotting the band around my arm and searched for a vein.
“Blackie, please look at me,” she pleaded.
“I’m done looking at you, Lace,” I said stabbing the tip of the needle into my arm before I glanced over my shoulder. “Get out!”
I let the heroin drain from the needle into my veins as the door closed. I pulled the empty syringe from my arm and flicked it onto the nightstand before untying the band and covered my face with my hands, waiting for the numbness to inebriate me.
Leather and Lace.
Opposites.
But the same torture lived inside.
The door opened again, and I lifted my head, prepared to drag her out by her hair if I had to but came face to face with Riggs.
“Get out,” I seethed.
“You the reason Lacey just ran out of here crying?” The newly patched Knight questioned me.
“What’s it to you?”
I rose to my feet, stumbling as the drugs swarmed my system, and crossed my arms against my chest as I struggled to glare at him.
He stepped closer, his eyes zeroed in on my arms before he lifted them to my face.
“You’re using?”
I uncrossed my arms and reached into my back pocket where my gun was tightly secured and brought it around, aiming it at him.
“Get the fuck out of my room, Riggs,” I shouted, unlatching the safety.
Bury me.
End me.
Chapter Three
I prayed for death as I remained hunched over the toilet, ridding myself of the toxins that filled me but death never showed. I didn’t miss this feeling, the hopelessness, the regret, the way my body felt as if it was being torn in two. The alcohol never did this maybe because drinking was as natural to me as breathing and I barely got drunk anymore. I pushed through the agony, ignoring the debilitating headache and stood up, flushing the toilet as I gripped the wall and made my way to the shower stall. I didn’t bother turning on the hot water letting the ice cold water rain down on me.
I leaned my forehead against the tiles and closed my eyes as the pellets hit my back. Flashes of the needle sticking out of my arm haunted me first, quickly replaced with the prettiest face I ever laid eyes on. Even with the torment reflected in her eyes she still made me forget the shit I was and the man I felt I could be whenever I was with her.
I was addicted to the aura of Lacey as much as I was to any illegal substance. Drugs became a crutch in my life binding me to the demon I had become but one fix of her wiped that shit away. I was different in her presence, not the usual self-destructing asshole. But make no mistake about it, my addiction to Lacey was just as toxic as all the others because she gave me hope.
I didn’t deserve hope so I didn’t know what the fuck to do with it.
Her innocence was refreshing in a world so full of manipulation, crime and deceit. A world known as the Satan’s Knights. The world I chose and the world I worshipped. The same world that destroyed any hope I had of being a better man. She became my light and that light’s been shining down on me for years now, since Jack went away to Riker�
�s and I would check in on her from time to time.
At first I did it out of duty but that smile of hers…it became my salvation. I still remember the first time she genuinely smiled at me, one I earned, not one manufactured by the innocent crush she had on me. Jack was doing time, and it was my job as his vice president and his friend to look out for his interests—first on that list was Lacey. I had taken her up to visit her father in Riker’s and afterwards we stopped at the Vegas Diner in Brooklyn. She ordered disco fries with extra gravy on the side and when she finished her food she picked off my plate.
There were two old ladies fighting at the table next to us. One lady yelled at the other as she tried to shove everything from the table into her tote bag. I think the only thing she left behind was the menu. It was amusing to watch the klepto ignore the ranting and keep pocketing things until the table was clear. I tore my eyes off the two broads to watch Lacey cover her mouth and mask her laughter. I reached across the table and pulled her hand away from her mouth and stared at her as she smiled.
I wanted more of it.
I wanted to hear her laugh.
I leaned over, stretched my arm across the space that separated the two tables and tapped the klepto on the shoulder. The lady she was with continued to rant and rave about the cold coffee and the fact that the tables were too small.
I grabbed the bread basket off our table and tipped my chin towards her tote bag.
“Open it,” I said, watching as she stared back at me with skeptical eyes.
I chucked the bread basket into her tote bag, followed by the ketchup bottle on our table. Lacey giggled, handing me the salt and pepper shakers next.
I turned to her.
“Give it a go,” I told her.
Her smile spread wide across her face. The smile I earned and the one I became a fiend for.
She threw the sugar packets into the woman’s tote bag.
“What are you doing?” The grumpy woman yelled. “Nina, for crying out loud you’re taking their condiments!”
“Oh, Provie, shut up. They offered,” the nice one argued.
Lacey leaned back in her chair and the smile that spread across her face became ingrained to my memory.
It was that moment, for purely selfish reasons, I vowed to keep her smiling and make her laugh more often. Because when she smiled at me, when she laughed with me, I felt like fighting instead of quitting, living instead of dying.
Lacey became my hope, and I gravitated to her like an electric current. She made me forget it was me who sold those innocent kids the drugs that ended their young lives. The same drugs Christine ingested when she killed herself. She pulled me into her light reminding me there was still good in the world, still things that were pure and untainted by filth.
Until last night.
I turned the water off, pushing my fingers through my hair and away from my face. The minute I drove my dick into that virgin pussy and tore her to shreds I tainted her. I ruined Lacey, selfishly taking something from her, something a piece of shit like me didn’t deserve.
I didn’t bother with a towel, and stepped out of the bathroom into the scene of the crime, staring at the desk where I fucked her.
Fucked her.
Her first time.
The fucking blood on my dick was the evidence.
Tainted by filth.
Branded by me.
The deeper I got inside of her, the deeper I drew my mark in her, branding her mine. Not just because I was the only one to have her but because the beast inside me threatened to never let her go.
I was fucked.
I had wanted her and more than wanting her, I wanted to ruin myself. I used Lacey mindlessly, to take away my pain, to secure a way out of this hell—to fuck the sweet little thing that’s had my head up in knots for some time now.
I never banked on wanting her to make me feel. Instead of craving numbness, I yearned to feel and not the pain and suffering I was used to but the sweet agony of being inside her. It was ironic that she brought me pleasure, something foreign to me, and I brought her pain, something she came here last night looking to be freed from.
“Blackie, please look at me,” she pleaded.
“I’m done looking at you, Lace.”
As much as I was fixed on Lacey, I was nobody’s hero. I wasn’t some guy here to rescue her and take care of her. I was the kind of guy her father put a lot of effort into keeping her away from. I was the devil, and she was a goddamn angel.
I clipped her wings last night, and it was my job to fix that. I’d go talk to her, smooth shit over and tell her I was sorry for being a world class dick. The thought alone made me sick but severing the light she provided me with…that shit was vile.
I was fucked in so many ways and had no one to blame but myself…I wouldn’t blame it on the drugs either because I wasn’t a pussy like that.
Fucked beyond repair.
A dead man walking.
I grabbed my jeans, pulling them up my legs when my door opened and Wolf strode through.
“Put that shit away,” he said, tipping his chin towards my junk.
“Don’t you fucking knock?” I growled.
“You wouldn’t have answered,” he said pointedly, walking around my room and leaned against the desk. The fucking desk of all things, not the fucking dresser or the damn entertainment center…the goddamn desk.
“What do you want?” I said, pulling a T-shirt over my head.
“The Bulldog is AWOL, you know anything about that shit?”
“Yeah and so do you. Man’s gone off the radar on the same day, every year, for the last thirteen years,” I replied, crossing my arms against my chest.
“But he’s always back before the sun comes up,” he paused, his eyes pierced mine as he swallowed. “Tensions been rising around here. I’m not fucking blind, Black. I know you and the Prez got something brewing and the rest of us are here holding our dicks while you two figure out what that shit is,” he ground out, pushing off the desk and advancing towards me. “I’ve been around long enough to know when shit gets heavy, he starts to lose his battle with his mind. Someone’s gotta reel him back in and that someone’s always been you,” he added.
“He got himself a woman to do the reeling. In fact, lent her my truck yesterday so she could do just that,” I retorted.
“Pussy can’t shake the crazy, Black. Go get your fucking wheels back and while you’re at it, bring back our leader,” he demanded, leveling me with a stare.
I may rank higher than Wolf but he was the heart of our brotherhood, the glue that held us together when it started to wear. As fucking off the wall as he sometimes could be, he was also the guy who kept shit real around here.
The club didn’t know about Jimmy, they had no fucking clue he killed Jack’s brother or that we were playing the gangster. Jack had wanted to keep the club out of it, said this shit with Jimmy was personal and when the connection between the mobster and the G-Man came to light, I agreed with him. It was fucking personal as retribution and revenge usually are.
My self-destruction and my guilt over Lacey would have to take a backseat to the vow I made to my brotherhood. I was the vice president and it was my duty to be Jack’s eyes and ears, his voice when his cracked and his mind when it failed him. Restoring my angel’s wings and the light that radiated over her would have to wait.
The devil.
Here I am.
“I’m driving,” I muttered.
“Fuck that, I want to live to see the next piece of ass I bang,” he replied, twirling his keys around his finger. “You can ride bitch,” he said with a grin.
Fucking Wolf.
For a man who cared so much about living to fuck, he drove like a man looking to die. I closed my eyes like a pussy as he blew lights and swerved in and out of traffic. The crazy motherfucker didn’t drive a cage much but when he was behind the wheel his ass went fast and furious.
He pulled in front of Jack’s house, nodding towards the Bulldog’
s bike that sat in the driveway and my truck parked behind it.
“At least Blondie kept your truck in one piece,” he commented.
I grunted, reaching for the door handle.
“Good luck,” he called as I climbed out of the car and slammed the door. I grabbed my balls and climbed the stoop, taking a deep breath as I pounded my knuckles against the door.
I closed my eyes, threw my game face on, because I was about to be the scumbag who looked my brother in the eye, the same friend who created my angel, and pretend like I didn’t destroy her.
He pulled the door open and glared at me.
“Now’s not a good time,” he hissed.
“Too fucking bad, gave you twenty-four hours to wallow in your shit,” I said, pushing past him and making my way into the house. The quicker I got a handle on him the quicker I could drag my ass to his ex-wife’s house and apologize to Lacey.
My eyes fell on Reina as she tugged her shirt down and looked away.
“See you found your man. Thanks for keeping my car in one piece,” I said, noticing the tears that streaked her face and turned to Jack. Looks like I wasn’t the only one fucking up women these days. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Mind your fucking business,” he barked.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, we don’t have time for a lovers fucking quarrel, brother,” I seethed. Fucking hearts, they were breaking everywhere.
“Take Reina home,” he ordered, ignoring me as he stared at Reina.
“I don’t need anyone to take me anywhere,” she replied.
For fuck’s sake.
“Either he drives you home or I do,” he demanded.
“Fine,” she hissed, turning toward me. “Give me a minute to grab my things.”
I blew out a breath, glancing back and forth between the two of them before nodding curtly.
The Tempted Series: Collectors Edition Page 124
