Jailbait

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Jailbait Page 13

by Vale, Lani Lynn


  “Okay,” I sighed. “Thanks. And I’m going to leave the car here with the keys behind the gas cap. It’s all yours.”

  Hunt grunted out an agreement then hung up.

  I waited for the video to appear on my phone, then watched it from start to finish with the sound off so Swayze, who had buried her face into her hands, wouldn’t hear.

  When it was done, I felt sick to my stomach.

  “She literally just watched it.” I shook my head. “That’s really, really fucked up.”

  “No joke,” she grumbled.

  I sighed and shoved the phone back into my pocket.

  When I had it where I wanted it, I turned around and walked to the receptionist.

  “I’m taking my girl home,” I said. “Will you call when you have any news of his condition?”

  I.e., when the fuck he was dead.

  The poor fella.

  “Sure.” She smiled at me hesitantly, her eyes going over my chest and my cut. “You look like you are part of that motorcycle club in town.”

  Did the vest give it away, sweetheart?

  My sarcastic comment didn’t cross my lips.

  “Yep,” I confirmed, face blank.

  Instead, I passed her my phone number.

  I also hoped that she didn’t use it but to call me when she needed to tell me the news on my cat.

  “I’ll call.” She smiled.

  I backed away without encouraging her, then walked back to my girl.

  “Let’s go,” I ordered. “You can ride on the bike with me.”

  She didn’t even protest as I walked her outside.

  When we got to the bike, it was to hear her clomping along behind me while she sniffled.

  “Where will I put my foot with this clodhopper on?” she grumbled grouchily.

  I walked up to my bike, swung my leg on, and then helped her climb on behind me. Then I helped her place her feet onto the foot pegs.

  It slid off, then I slid it right back on again.

  “It’s a short ride,” I said. “Hold on tight. Push your foot in. It’ll hold.”

  She grumbled but did as I told her, and when we got started, she pressed her face into the leather cut over my back and grumbled more.

  But soon, as we whipped and wound our way through the light traffic of Souls Chapel, she relaxed.

  By the time we got to my place, I almost wanted to continue riding.

  If it wasn’t for her foot that continued to slip off the peg, I would’ve kept riding.

  She, as well as me, needed a break from today.

  CHAPTER 17

  I don’t want to adult today. I don’t even want to human today. Today I want to goat. Eat all day, and head butt anyone that tries to stop me.

  -Text from Swayze to Trick

  SWAYZE

  My heart hurt.

  After a really, really bad two hours, it was on the mend now that Trick was there to help distract me.

  But every once in a while, I would forget what had happened that day, and what I’d seen.

  Like now, for example, I was drying off stray droplets of water from my shower, and the man that had clearly been there for a while was making a bloom of heat start in my belly by the way he was watching me.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked curiously.

  Other than the obvious.

  “Nothing,” he shrugged. “I’m just curious how you take a shower and get dressed on one foot. Now that I see all the hopping, it’s explained.”

  My mouth curled into a grin.

  “There’s a lot of bits flopping around, that’s for sure,” I confirmed.

  His heated eyes came to me. “That’s for sure,” he agreed. “Don’t bother putting your clothes on the entire way.”

  My brows lowered. “Why?”

  He started taking his off.

  “I already have someone covering the bar,” he murmured. “That was the only reason I left this bed earlier. And you’re here now instead of downstairs at work… so we’re going to make use of it.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “I had to send Jayco home because he was running a fever,” I murmured. “And I’d finished all of my paperwork that I set out to get finished today. Without Jayco, I don’t really want to get started on anything new.”

  He started on the button of his jeans, and my eyes momentarily went down to take him in.

  Except, before he got to the good stuff—i.e., the revealing of his penis—he stopped and gestured for me to turn around.

  “What?” I asked. “Why?”

  “On your hands and knees on the bed,” he ordered.

  I didn’t know what or even if I could, but instead of arguing, I did the weird hopping thing all the way to the bed.

  Then, after I got there, I bent over it and looked at him over my shoulder.

  “Why?” I asked once I got into position.

  He walked up behind me.

  “Because I wanted to see your ass jiggling as you jumped in here.” He grinned and came up behind me, pressing the rough fabric of his jeans against my sensitive folds. “And now you can’t use that foot for anything but kneeling there.”

  He had a point.

  With my knees in the bed, there wasn’t much for my foot to do but sit there and look pretty.

  Or my toes to curl on said foot. Something which happened seconds later when Trick dropped down to his knees beside the bed.

  I gasped when he maneuvered my body exactly where he wanted it, like he was positioning his plate for better access to his mouth.

  “Trick…” I breathed, suddenly uncertain.

  I’d had this man before. He’d been inside of me. I’d wanted him for as long as I could remember.

  But saying that, there was a rather large difference in him having me with his cock, and him having me with his mouth.

  His cock felt like something that was great, awesome and serious. But his mouth? It felt like he was diving deep into my soul. He was going to figure things out about me that nobody had ever known before.

  And what I tasted like was something that nobody on this planet knew.

  Except for him.

  Up close and personal with my lower half, he groaned and leaned forward, his mouth skimming over the backs of my thighs, moving farther and farther in with each sweep of his lips.

  “You smell amazing.” He nipped at my inner thigh.

  I licked my lips.

  “Do I?” I asked.

  Thank God I’d just had a shower. Seriously. That could’ve been a disaster.

  But…

  His tongue delved between the lips of my sex, and I bit my lip as stars started to dot my vision.

  When had I closed my eyes?

  And holy crap, why did his tongue there feel so good?

  These, and other questions and thoughts, were filtering through my brain at a million miles an hour.

  What do I taste like?

  Is it awkward having your face pressed against something like that?

  I wonder what it would feel like if he didn’t have a beard.

  Holy crap, his tongue swirling around my clit feels like heaven.

  Oh, God.

  Holy shit.

  Sweet baby Jesus, who was the first person to ever think this up? I should get a Ouija board and thank him for his service.

  His hands tightening on my thighs had me momentarily blinking in surprise.

  “What are you thinking about?” his lips rasped against my distended clit.

  I licked my lips.

  “I’m trying to think about a lot of things, so I don’t end this super quick,” I panted. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

  And it was.

  I’d never, not ever felt anything like it.

  Even sex with Trick didn’t feel like this.

  His husky laugh against my pussy sent shivers down my spine.

  He gave me one final lick, then stopped, which was exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

>   I must’ve conveyed my disappointment in some way, too, because he was laughing and chuckling as he wound his way up my body and patted my ass.

  “Move forward so I can get my knees on the bed,” he ordered.

  I moved like molasses, whining the entire way.

  “Torture,” I grumbled as I looked at him over my shoulder.

  His eyes gleamed as he pushed his jeans down and finally revealed his cock.

  I licked my lips at what I saw.

  “I take it back,” I admitted. “I’m not sure which is better. But if you could somehow get your tongue on my clit, and your cock inside of me, I think we would find the perfect match.”

  He chuckled as he fisted his cock and looked down at where he wanted us to be connected.

  “Sometimes,” he said, “I’d lay in my bunk at night, think of you, and do exactly this.” He pumped his cock, his fist bumping against my pussy with each shuttle. “I’d think of you, that night, wrapped around me in the dark hallway of a bar. And I’d come on my stomach.”

  I groaned as his knuckles brushed my clit.

  “But having you now.” He shoved his cock straight into my pussy. No warm up. No indication that he was about to go there. Just one second he was on the outside, and the next he was on the inside. “I know that I could never, not ever, do this pussy justice.”

  I wailed out as an orgasm slammed into me so fast, I barely had time to draw breath.

  The breath left my lungs in a sudden whoosh, and my eyes closed tightly shut as I let the tidal wave roll over me.

  When I came back to, his hands were squeezing my hips, but ultimately, he was holding perfectly still, allowing me to regain control.

  I panted, face buried in the duvet cover underneath my face, and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

  “What the hell was that?” I breathed.

  “Twelve years of sexual frustration,” he said. “Last night was only the tip of the iceberg.”

  I had a feeling I was going to be very, very sore by the end of the night. Or the morning.

  And I knew I wasn’t going to care.

  Not one single bit.

  CHAPTER 18

  I call it taking care of myself and chasing my dreams.

  -Swayze to Trick when she explains why she likes taking naps

  SWAYZE

  “Hello?” Trick answered the phone. “Fuck, that’s awesome. Thanks for calling.”

  “What?” I asked the moment he hung up.

  “Tater made it through the night. As long as all goes well today, we can go pick him up tomorrow.”

  I grinned wickedly, but before I could say anything else, his phone rang again.

  “Hello?” he repeated his earlier greeting.

  He had a droplet of sweat that had started on his throat and slowly started to track its way down the length of his body.

  He’d woken me up with his mouth, and we’d spent the next hour in bed, doing very bad things to each other.

  I was late for work and didn’t even care.

  Thank God I’d given Jayco a key. I’d managed to fire off a text saying I’d be late, and to open without me. It was now lunchtime, and Jayco had already messaged me that he’d gotten everything done for the day that he could, forwarded the calls to his cell phone, and had gone to run errands.

  And I didn’t feel bad at all.

  I touched the droplet of sweat with the tip of my finger, which was why I felt when the muscles of his chest went suddenly hard and unyielding.

  Startled, I looked up at his face to see it ferocious.

  “I’ll go check now,” he murmured softly.

  Then he was jack-knifing out of the bed and hurrying out of the room.

  “Trick, you’re naked!” I called out.

  He didn’t slow in the least.

  I catapulted myself out of the bed, snagged his t-shirt that was haphazardly half on, half off the bed, and slipped it on before sitting down and grabbing my walking boot.

  Despite wanting to follow after him, I needed that stupid thing. I’d already done quite a bit of walking without it in the past few days, and I knew it wasn’t doing me any favors ignoring the doctor’s advice.

  Once I’d strapped myself in, I started out of the room.

  When I followed him down the stairs and past the forgotten office chair that was still in pieces scattered across the floor, I found him outside, standing next to the scene of the crime.

  There was still dried blood on the asphalt from Tater.

  I felt my stomach roll, and I looked away, finding Trick beside the trash can, feeling for something behind it.

  He was crouched down, his feet next to the brick wall, and his shoulder brushing it as he leaned to reach something.

  “You go any further, and your dick and or balls is going to touch the asphalt, and I highly doubt that it’s been cleaned any time in the last twenty years,” I told him.

  He snorted and stood up, gesturing toward the back of the dumpster. “See if you can reach your puny arms back there and get the phone that’s stuck to the back.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored the comment about my puny arms.

  “You got a light?” I asked. The alley was in shadows and I couldn’t see a thing back there. “I have no idea what or where I’m reaching.”

  A light came, and I bent over and squeezed as much of my body between the wall and the dumpster that I could before I reached whatever it was that was stuck on the back of the dumpster.

  And he was right.

  There was a phone attached to the little box that it was being held by.

  “Here,” I said, turning around and holding it out to whom I thought was Trick.

  But I was wrong.

  It was Zach who’d been holding the light.

  I widened my eyes and stared at the man. “Ummm.”

  He winked at me, and I had a feeling that the man had seen my ass as I’d tried to squeeze in there.

  When Zach moved, I saw a very naked Trick still standing there, uncaring that he was hanging out for the world to see.

  “Trick,” I whispered. “You’re naked.”

  He shrugged.

  “Trick,” I said. “Your penis is hanging out for the world to see.”

  Again, he did nothing.

  “Trick,” I started again.

  “I think she’s thinking that we should be worried about your dick being shown to us,” a newcomer said. Sin. “But, darlin’, I’d just like to point out that for the last twelve years, the man had to take a shit in front of at least one person. He wanked off next to that person, too. Trust me when I say, we’re past needing to protect our sensibilities.”

  I winced.

  “Shit,” I grumbled.

  He was right.

  Some of the stuff that I’d read about on some message boards when I’d been bored and curious one night came to me.

  Prison is the worst. You never get a moment’s peace. You have to sleep with the lights on. The word no never means no unless you can back up that no. You never live. You have to survive. And you never come out the same person that you went in being.

  I looked at Sin, then back to Trick who was still standing there, naked as the day he was born, without a care in the world.

  I chose to let that go, because I did not want him to have to live life any other way than the way he wanted to live it.

  “What is it?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “A phone,” Trick repeated.

  I rolled my eyes. “I know it’s a phone. But what is it? Why is it there?”

  “It’s there,” Hunt said as he came up to the alley where we were all now standing in a loose circle. He took the phone from Zach and gestured to my back door. “Because someone put it there. I got off the camera feed a man coming out of your alley, going in with something in his hand, and coming out with nothing in his hand. The package was too big to be put anywhere on his person. So I knew it had to have been left there. He’s done that every single
week since we put the cameras up three weeks ago. And every single time, Ignacia had been in the alley, coming out with a phone to her ear.”

  I walked to the back door and swung it open, pushing it with my hand for Trick to catch.

  Gesturing toward my office, I pointed to the stairs. “I’m going to go find something…”

  “You go in there and open everything up and get a pot of coffee going. I’ll go find some pants so you’re not getting my sweaty balls against furniture your clients have to sit on.”

  I felt my lips tilt into a small smile.

  Then I looked at the men that were watching him go up the stairs with his ass hanging out.

  “Come on,” I said, feeling slightly intimidated by the men that were now looking at me.

  Five minutes later, I had quite a few men crowding into my office.

  It’d never been this full before.

  And I felt wholly underdressed.

  “Looks like they give her a new phone every time a pickup is needed. I can see her coming out of this alley once every six to seven days with a new phone in her hand each time.”

  “How do you know it’s a new phone?” I asked curiously.

  Hunt didn’t think that was a stupid question, and obviously neither did the rest of them, even though they all turned to me with blank faces.

  “Different sizes. Look.” He pulled up a still photo of Ignacia with a phone pressed to her ear. It was obviously an iPhone. The next one he pulled up was a much smaller phone based on her hand positioning.

  He did this through seven or eight photos before he stopped. “And that one is a flip phone.”

  I nodded in understanding.

  “Why my alley?” I wondered.

  “When did you move in?”

  That question was Lynn, who breezed into my office like he owned the place.

  As he moved, he unbuttoned his cuffs and started to roll up the dress shirt to his elbows.

  I watched, fascinated, as he moved.

  He had tattoos. On his forearms.

  And a lot of them.

  Holy shit.

  “Babe.” Trick nudged me. “How long have you been here?”

 

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