by Kandee Reyna
“Come on, bro. Time for you to go.” Manny says putting his hand on the guys shoulder. “Let’s get you out of here before you get more blood on the floor.”
“That fucker punched me! Escort him out!” Bank Exec. shouts.
“Can’t do it, bro. He’s the owner.” Manny grins arrogantly.
Lo’s eyes move from slicing into me, to Manny and the banker. “Get the fuck out and stay out.” He articulates. He’s not yelling, but somehow his voice is heard loud and clear over the still pulsing music. Manny pushes the guy’s shoulder and they make their way to the exit, Manny giving him a white towel from his back pocket to help with the blood.
My gaze moves back to Lo. He’s standing in front of me, his arms folded across his chest and I swear to God I can see flames licking in his eyes. Well, motherfucker, I feel the same God damn way. He takes a step closer to me and I step back angrily.
“Wanna dance?” He inquires, the flames dying down to embers, and his hand reaching out to touch my hip. The fuck?
I swing my hips away from his hand. “No.” I spit and pivot on my heel toward Vivian and point to the bar. She immediately follows, hooking her arm through mine. She’s practically skipping along beside me.
“Girl, that dude is fucking sprung.” She squeals, singing the word ‘sprung’ in a sing-song voice.
I don’t even have words. I’m shaking, and my heart is racing. I’m so fucking pissed at him for doing that. That poor guy didn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t have put his hands where they didn’t belong, but that wasn’t grounds to be punched in the face. Twice. I’m also mad at myself for being so damn turned on by the way he manhandled that guy for me. For me. No guy I’d ever dated gave two shits about me. It was intriguing, exhilarating and he called himself my boyfriend.
Pretty Boy walks back over to me. “Water?” He says with a smirk.
“You know damn well I don’t want a water. Tequila.” I refuse to break eye contact with him, hoping to wear him down but his focus moves from me to my right and he puts his hands in the air and walks away. Knowing who’s standing there I roll my eyes and look over; I’m not ready to make nice. “Damn, can’t even talk to the bartender to get a drink? I swear he hasn’t touched me.” The sarcasm rolls out in full force, my arms are crossed, and I’m giving him my best ‘fuck you’ glare.
His eyes burn into mine as he speaks, “I think you’ve had enough to drink,” His voice is cool and collected. A stark contrast to mine, even though I can see he’s pissed. “Want to dance?” Seriously?
“Fuck off.” I say pushing my hair behind one of my ears, reminding me of the extravagant gift he gave me. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth and a heavy pit in my stomach. It makes me feel cheap and dirty to get such an expensive gift after being fucked and forced out. A certain word comes to mind.
His demeanor relaxes, and his eyes soften. “Come upstairs with me.”
I start to tell him to fuck off again, but I stop. I have this bracelet weighing down my wrist I need to give back anyway. Then again, he didn’t ask he told. I shake my head, my defenses wearing down. “Please.” His brows knit together, and any trace of anger in his face is gone. Well fuck me. How can I say no to that?
“Fine.” I stomp off, leading the way.
Chapter Nine: Lo
As soon as I saw that prick touch her, I saw red. I was less than impressed with her two-finger salute that was undoubtedly aimed at me. Anyone could have seen her and drawn conclusions. My business is just that—mine. I made my way to the dance floor in record time. Parting the sea of people, I got there just in time to see him touch her breasts with hands I was ready to break. She turned immediately, but before she could say anything I snapped, and it felt good. The slam of my fist against his cheek and then the crunch of his nose. It’s been too long since I’ve felt the ache of my fists after colliding with bone. I clench my hand, reveling in the throbbing of my knuckles.
I’m watching her body tap in her stilettos as I follow her like a lost puppy to the staircase. I see Natalie glowering at me out of the corner of my eye as I make my way up, but I don’t pay her any mind. I have one focus right now. Renee. Her foot hits the landing and she’s waiting for me, with her arms crossed, to unlock the door. As soon as I do, she steps inside and starts fidgeting with the bracelet I got her. I’m happy to have her alone, but this space feels too tainted for her. Too many meaningless fucks and coked up bitches bent over the couch litter the air and I get the urge to take her home with me.
This isn’t me. It’s not what I do, but right now it’s the only thing that feels right. Just being with her. Not touching, not fucking, but just being in the same room. Breathing the same air. It’s fulfilling and scary as fuck. I’ve never wanted to make a woman mine. Exclusivity isn’t part of my life, but damn if I don’t want to prevent another man from ever touching her again.
She unclasps the bracelet and dangles it from her finger. “Here.” She extends her arm. There’s a feral look in her eyes, and her straightened hair is starting to frizz from the heat of the club and the sweat she worked up dancing. She’s got her hip cocked and her hand perched on her waist. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Everything about her screams pure and untainted. My world is no place for her but having her here feels more right than anything I’ve ever felt.
“That’s yours, Renee.” I thought she wore it because she liked it. “Don’t let what happened down there change your mind on taking it.”
“Oh, that’s not what changed my mind, it didn’t need to be changed, actually. I’d planned on giving it back since I opened it. It did make me feel better about my decision, though.” She extends her arm further looking at the bracelet and then back to me.
“Renee, I bought it for you. It’s my way of telling you I enjoyed spending time with you last weekend. Come in, sit down. Let’s talk.”
Her eyes widen a fraction, and she shifts on her feet. A humorless laugh rolls from her lips. “Spending time with me?” Shit, she’s angry. “We didn’t spend time together, Lo.” She says my name like it’s a dirty word, not worthy of being in her mouth. “We fucked, and then you dismissed my ass before my cum even dried on my thighs. So, really, this is a bracelet to thank me for letting you FUCK me. Is that your thing? Like, you don’t wanna pay for sex because it’s illegal, so you send an expensive gift the next morning? How the fuck did you find me anyway? And don’t tell me what to do! You don’t get to order me around. ‘Turn around, don’t do this…’ Whatever. Take the damn bracelet.” She seethes. “And stop using my name like you know me. ‘Cause you don’t.” So, that was the thing with my name.
A woman this angry shouldn’t be worth it. I should take it back and tell her to get her petty ass out of my room, but I don’t. And I don’t want to. If any other woman I fucked tried to pull this shit on me, I’d have her kicking rocks before she could put her hands on her hips. “Please, Renee? I’m asking you, have a seat. Let me get you some water. Let’s talk.” She doesn’t speak, her posture doesn’t change, but I can see in her eyes she relaxes just a little, so I take a step closer. I reach out to the hand holding the bracelet and pull her closer to me. “Please, give me a chance to talk to you.”
We’re close now, and I can feel her heart beating fast; her short and quick spurts of breath on my lips. She smells sweet, like sunflowers and tequila. I reach around her waist and pull her close to me. Releasing her hand, I drop the bracelet in my pocket. I’ll deal with that later. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” I whisper, running my finger tip down the side of her face, and then trace her plump lips. I push her hair back and kiss her shoulder. She whimpers, so I do the same to the other, and trail soft kisses and nibbles up her neck. She’s holding her breath and as I hover over her mouth I whisper, “Breathe, baby.” She sucks in air and as she does I capture her lips with mine.
Chapter Ten: Renee
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until he told me to breathe. All the anger that was c
oursing through my body is gone now, and I keep trying to recall all the things he’s done to piss me off, but I can’t think of one. My hands are in his hair and he’s cupping my face, kissing me like it’s his last. His tongue sweeps through my mouth, tasting me. He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against mine. The loss of his lips allows me to regain my senses. I press one hand on his chest and take a step back, and I’m pressed against a wall. We need to talk, and I can’t talk with him so near. His hooded eyes turn dark and spirited, a grin takes his lips, “Nowhere to run, baby.” I’m heaving breaths and I press my back and the palms of my hands to the cold wall, trying to cool my fevered body and keep the space between us.
He steps closer again, our bodies flush, and presses his hips into mine. Without consent, a groan escapes my throat and my eyes flutter closed. His cock is hard, and the pressure causes my clit to jolt. He moves one hand into my hair, gripping it firmly but painlessly at the base of my neck, and his other runs up the length of my body starting at my hip until he reaches my breasts. My nipples have beaded and push through the built-in bra of the dress and when he sweeps his thumb repeatedly across one, my body convulses, and I moan again. “I don’t want anyone else touching your body, Renee.” His hips press into mine again and I can feel my panties soaking through, “You’re mine, baby.” I’m not his, but there’s no way I’m arguing that fact right now. I’m not going to stop him when what he’s doing feels so good. My lack of agreement seems to frustrate him, “Turn.” He grounds out. I turn to face the wall, and he easily unbuttons the two buttons that hold my dress around my neck and pushes it down to my waist in one move. With both hands he reaches around and pinches my nipples hard, causing my knees to buckle and sending shock waves to my sex. I rest my head on his shoulder and he begins to lick and suck my neck, biting and kissing the soft skin above my shoulder. I moan again loudly. “Shh, baby. I’ve got you.” His hand sweeps under my feet lifting me weightlessly off the ground and our lips meet as he carries me to the couch, laying me down, and covering my body with his. Resting against my body, he kisses me again and then looks into my eyes. He doesn’t speak, but his eyes are alive with words. Lust, confusion, and possessiveness cloud his iris’s and I close my eyes, his gaze too intense, saying more than I’m ready to hear right now.
He lifts himself onto his knees and looks down at me and I follow him up, reaching up to loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt where black ink peeks out over his collar. Slowly and methodically, I pull his shirt from his suit pants and start to unbutton it as he tosses his jacket to the floor. Each button reveals more of his tight, toned and inked chest. Undoing the last few buttons reveals washboard abs that make my mouth water, and he pushes his shirt from his shoulders. He’s completely covered in tattoos that aren’t visible in a suit. I want to take time to explore his body, touch and memorize every one, but that’s not in the cards for us. Not tonight, not ever. I hear cuff links hit the marble floor and then he covers my body again, kissing me hard, our mouths clashing together. He’s such a paradox. Cufflinks and expensive suits draped over a dangerously inked body. My hands wander up his back, feeling the ripples of muscles as he moves, and then to his front feeling his pecks and stomach. I reach my hands further down and fumble with his belt. “Off.” I breathe through kisses.
I feel him smile on my lips and he stands, unbuckling his belt, and pulling it through the loops in one quick pull. I move from the couch and drop to my knees, my fingers a scrambling mess as I undo his pants and yank down his zipper, pushing his pants and boxers to his thighs and his cock springs free. It looks as big as it felt last weekend, thick with veins running down each side. It bobs under my gaze and I grip the shaft, working it root to tip a few times and I’m rewarded with a drop of precum. I look up through my lashes at him; he’s breathing hard and watching me as I stick out my tongue and lick away the drop of cum from his dick. His eyes close and he rocks back on his heels as my tongue makes contact, and I wrap my lips around the head, sucking the silky skin into my mouth. I can smell his body wash on his skin, and the salty taste of the precum mixes with the tequila in my mouth. A moan vibrates through me and he throws his head back before reaching down and grabbing me by the arms roughly, righting me on my feet. His mouth slams over mine and he works my dress off my hips to the floor as I push his pants further down and he toes off his shoes, kicking everything to the side like it’s on fire.
I pull back and take in his naked body. He’s ripped from head to toe. Every part of him is well-defined and solid without looking like he lives in the gym and on protein powder. His cock is long and hard, jutting between us, pumping from the blood pulsing through. I catch his hooded black eyes in mine, and before I can look too long, he’s giving orders.
“Knees on the couch, head down.” I lick my lips, missing the absence of his cock, but do as I’m told. I drop my knees onto the plush leather and fold my body down until my shoulders touch the material, turning my head so I can see him. He rubs both of my cheeks lifting and kneading the globes of my ass. “I’m going to fuck you, Renee. All you have to do is say stop if it’s too much.” His words cause my pussy to clench as he slips a finger in me and rubs my clit with his thumb, and I know the word stop will never find its way to my lips. He slaps my ass hard, and I hear myself yelp, only it doesn’t even sound like me, it sounds far away, trapped behind the clouds in my mind. The pain isn’t immediate, it’s the strike that surprised me. The pain comes a few seconds after, slow and hot. I feel it in my core, and my yelp is followed by a low groan I can’t hold back. I raise my eyes to see him, and his face is serious, and lust filled. “Did you hear what I said, Renee?” I nod in response. Smack.
“Oh,” I cry out again.
“I can’t hear you baby.” He says. His voice seductive and low. He rubs his hand over the places he’s spanked me while continuing to fuck me with his fingers, and it feels like he’s dragging a tiny million needles across my skin, but it hurts so good.
“Yes… please. Please fuck me.” My voice is high pitched and needy. I feel my body rocking, my ass moving in the air, searching for the relief I’m chasing and he moves his hand away, eliciting a groan from me. My clit burns for his touch. One touch and I’ll be soaring. I’m stretched too far, ready to let go and then he slaps my ass again, harder this time and plunges two fingers into me, and I come. I shatter into a million pieces and cry out his name as I spiral down, my stomach drops, and fire fills me as I ride out my orgasm, my hips bucking wildly. He slams into me, sheathing his entire cock in one stroke. My breath leaves my lungs and I gulp air back in as he pulls out, the tip of his cock resting at my opening, waiting to go back in. He slams into me again and I cry out, it’s almost a scream as I come again on his dick. Two orgasms in and I’m spent, and I can feel my wetness dripping down my thighs, coating his dick. My body relaxes as my sex continues to clench out the rest of my orgasm and he sets into a pounding rhythm. Alternatively spanking each cheek, never landing in the same place. I feel a new orgasm flutter in my belly and it intensifies from the sound of skin against skin each time his balls slap against my clit, and he hits home somewhere deep, deeper than I’ve felt before. “Oh, God. Please, Lo, please. I can’t… I don’t…” I’m a mess of words with no meaning, sentences started but unfinished.
“That’s right baby, take me. Come for me.”
“I can’t, Lo…” What’s coming will shred me, split me in two. The orgasm looming is powerful, building beneath the surface. His pounding increases and I moan loudly, reaching for what I know will break me.
“Come Renee. Come with me, now.” He says through clenched teeth.
“I can’t, Oh God, I can’t,” My chant does nothing to relieve what has me teetering on the edge of insanity.
“You can baby, do it now!” His pace is punishing, and he slaps my ass, presses into me balls deep, forcing the air from my lungs and pinches my clit between his fingers and I come. It’s long and drawn out, and through the pounding i
n my ears I can hear him yell ‘fuck’ and he slams into me once more before he stills inside of me. I’m coming down, the aftershocks wrack my body, and he pulls out and presses into me one more time, saying my name. I close my eyes and ride the pulses of my orgasm in bliss, until I feel him slip out of me.
I turn around on the couch and thoughts of what happened last weekend fill my mind, ruining the post-orgasmic bliss I’m feeling. He’s sitting on the floor leaning against the sofa, breathing heavily, and he leans his head back catching my eyes. He’s completely naked and his body is an art form, I can’t believe I didn’t get to see that last week, what a waste. “Don’t leave.” It’s all he says, and I’m not sure how to respond. His words slice through me, causing my stomach to tighten almost painfully with feelings that shouldn’t exist.
I just nod, not trusting my words, and then realize I probably look a hot mess. “Um, do you have a bathroom up here?”
“Yes.” He points to a black door to the left of the bar.
I scoop up my dress from the floor and pull it up my legs before standing and covering my nakedness the rest of the way. This feels awkward, and I’m not sure what to say or do. “Thanks,” I say and make my way to the bathroom. It’s large, much larger than I would have expected. There’s a double vanity, a shower stall, and the toilet is behind a sliding door. The same white marble flooring continues in here and all the fixtures and accents are black or silver. It’s clean and meticulously cared for. There’s another door next to the toilet and I push it open, revealing a walk-in closet full of neatly pressed suits. So, I guess he uses this room a lot, then. I roll my eyes and go use the toilet. I can hear Lo talking outside the bathroom, and I’m assuming he’s on the phone because it’s a one-sided conversation. A heated one, at that. I pause, trying to listen harder but I can’t understand what he’s saying. As I’m washing my hands at one of the sinks, I take in my reflection. My hair is wild and needs to be washed to allow my curls to come back to life because this frizzy mess isn’t cutting it. My chest and cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright with the look of a well-satisfied woman. I pull open some drawers and find hygiene products. For men and women. Figures. I pull a hair tie off a new package, and pull my hair into a high bun, allowing strands of wayward curls that have fought their way back to life from the heat of a flat iron to frame my face. It’ll have to do.
