by Marie York
“You always taste so good,” she purred, and I wanted to grab her face, and pull her lips to mine, but she continued moving down my body. I relaxed into the mattress, and enjoyed every slick feel of her tongue on my skin.
All the blood in my body rushed to my dick as she took me in both of her hands, and wrapped her pretty lips around the tip. Her tongue flicked and teased before she slid her hand down and followed with her mouth.
My fingers dug into the sheets, and I was losing control. I couldn’t let that happen, so I moved my hand to her hair, and knotted my fingers through the soft strands, controlling her rhythm. She cupped my balls, sending chills up my spine. My grip on her hair tightened, and she let out a moan that reverberated against my shaft. I arched my back at the sensation, and she opened wide for me, taking me in completely.
I hit the back of her throat, but she didn’t stop. She sucked in as she pulled her lips up. “Mmm,” she groaned, and, fuck, that almost undid me. I grabbed her face, and yanked her to me, crashing my lips to hers.
A squeal slipped from her mouth as I flipped her beneath me. “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” I growled against her lips.
“Yes, please,” she said with a smile.
“But first, I’m going to punish you for coming in here in the first place.”
She bit her lip and flashed me those goddamn fuck me eyes. “I’m such a bad girl.”
“You’re a naughty little thing, and do you know what happens to naughty little girls?”
Her eyes widened in excitement, and it took all I had not to blow my load against her stomach.
She pressed her finger to the corner of her lip, and blinked her eyes up. “I don’t know. I think you’re going to have to show me.”
“Oh, I’m going to show you alright,” I grunted, as I picked her up, draping her over my lap. Her perfect round ass sat high in the air, and I took a handful in my hand, digging my fingers deep into the soft flesh.
She moaned as I continued to squeeze. I sprawled my hand out across her cheek, before pulling back, and bringing my hand down on the already sensitive skin. She yelped, and my dick turned to solid rock. I massaged and rubbed the red spot, and, when she least expected it, I gave it another good slap.
“Oh yes, I’m such a bad girl,” she cried out, and my hand took on a mind of its own, squeezing and rubbing and slapping until she was begging for me to fuck her.
I stood up, and bent her over the bed. Her ass stuck up even higher, and I buried my face in it, dragging a line from her tight little pussy to her puckered asshole. I circled my tongue around her clit with my finger as I continued to lick her ass.
“Oh Jaxon!” The way she called out my name all breathy, dripping with nothing but lust, had me spreading her cheeks wider. She cried out as I dipped my finger into her slick folds, and my tongue continued to flick against the tight skin.
I pulled back, sunk one finger into the forbidden hole, and another into her soaking wet pussy. Her hands slammed down on the bed, and she gripped the sheets in her hand, pulling and yanking at the material until they ripped free from their corners.
“I’m going to come,” she whimpered, and, just as she was about to unravel beneath me, I wrenched my fingers out of her, and shoved my cock into her wetness.
I reached up, grabbing her perfectly round tits, and pulled her back into me. Her head fell back, and I pressed my lips to hers. I swiped my tongue against the crease, and she parted, letting me in. Our tongues slipped against each other in a hurried frenzy until pleasure consumed her, and her head fell forward. Her body followed, and she was on all fours again.
I grabbed the tiny curve of her waist, and pounded into her, giving her more than she could take. Her hands fell out from under her, and she went head first into the mattress, lifting that gorgeous ass, and giving me the perfect fucking angle.
Moans and screams mixed together as I continued my assault on her pussy. My eyes drifted to her asshole, and I dipped my finger back in.
“Oh my God!” she screamed, and her muscles contracted, tightening around my cock, and milking me fucking dry.
I collapsed on the bed beside her, closing my eyes.
Chapter 5
My alarm went off. It was time to get up already? Fuck. I ignored the noise for as long as I could, but it wouldn’t stop. Finally, I opened my eyes, and realized I was alone in my bed… and so fucking hard, my balls hurt.
I couldn’t even escape Lyla in my dreams. I needed to get out of the apartment before she woke up. But first I had to jerk off, or I’d be walking around bow-legged all day.
Quietly, I snuck out of my room, and checked the couch. She wasn’t there. I glanced down the hall, and saw the door to her room closed. She must’ve woken up in the middle of the night, and headed down there.
Too bad she didn’t stop off in my room on her way like she did in my dream. No. I shook my head and the thoughts away. Got in the shower, and only turned on the cold. I rested my hands on the wall as the water trickled down my body.
I needed to cool the fuck down. Sex needed to be the farthest thing from my mind. The whole situation with Lyla was the least of my problems right now. Baile was losing money every week, and it only meant one thing. I had a thief on my staff.
It was something I didn’t want to fucking believe. How could I? Every one of them was like family. But I’d been spending my days and nights going through the totals, the bills, and every other piece of financial paper I had, and no matter how many ways I added it up, I was always short.
But, because I refused to believe it, I got dressed, and headed back into my office to review the numbers one more time.
Six hours later, I emerged from the piles of paperwork with the same knowledge as I had going in. There was no way to mistake it. One of my own was stealing from me. Right out of my own goddamn pocket. Disgust filled me, and I tried to keep it from showing. If I was going to uncover the fucking bastard, I needed go about my business as I always did by pretending to be completely oblivious to the fact that, over the past three months, I have had close to three grand stolen right out from under me.
I reached into my desk, and pulled out the bottle of Jack. I took a swig from it, and then capped it off before heading downstairs.
Gary was behind the bar, chatting it up with a cute blonde, and Lyla was taking an order from a group of guys. My eyes lingered on her legs in that short skirt, and then up to the low cut of her shirt. Her tits were pushed up, and all I could think about was putting my mouth on them.
I swear to God she wore shit like that because she knew it bothered me. That first day she came in here, wearing something similar to what she was in now, I wasn’t kidding when I handed her that t-shirt. I didn’t want any guy to look at her the way I did. I knew what I was thinking, and the thought of any guy thinking the same thing made my blood boil.
She bent over the table to pick up a straw wrapper, and I watched as the guy’s head turned to her tits. I pushed down the rage brewing inside of me, and went behind the bar. Visions of my dream popped into my head, and I shifted my dick before the whole bar knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Look who decided to join us,” Gary joked, as he poured a glass of wine for the blonde and her friend who just came back from the bathroom.
“Had some stuff to take care of,” I mumbled, my eyes glued on Lyla.
Lyla turned away from the table, and our eyes met, but it was only for a moment. The bell above the door rang, and I looked away and watched as Tara walked in. She was smiling which was a nice change of pace from her crying and mental breakdowns.
Her hair was all done up like she just went somewhere to have it done, and she was wearing clothes I had never seen before.
“Hello, lovelies,” she said, as she past the group of guys at Lyla’s table. “Hey bitch.” She smacked Lyla’s ass, and Lyla spun around laughing.
Normally, I’d smile, but I couldn’t stop staring at Tara. Everything about her was fresh and new, and the only way for
that to happen was to have money. Extra money. Where the fuck would she get that from? She cried poverty more than any person I’d ever met. Declan was always lending her money, and if it hadn’t been for for him she would’ve been evicted months ago.
Was Tara the one who was stealing from me? If I had to choose between her, Declan, Gary, and Lyla, as much as I hated to admit it to myself, she’d be my first choice, and her strutting around like that wasn’t helping her case. Still, I gave her a job when no one else would. I put up with her constant bullshit. She owed me, not the other way around. I swear to God if it was her…No. I had no physical proof, and until I did, she was innocent.
There were a few part timers who I needed to watch before I could jump to any conclusion. I didn’t want it to be anyone, but if it had to be someone, I hoped it was someone who I didn’t consider family. I had already been disappointed by my own family enough, and, because of that, I didn’t let many people in.
I only hoped I didn’t make a mistake by doing so.
Chapter 6
The kitchen was dimly lit by the open fridge. Lyla was bent inside, reaching for something. The tiny shorts she had on barely covered her perfect ass. Her long legs glowed, and I imagined bending her over the counter, and fucking the shit out of her until she screamed my name.
I should’ve turned around, and headed right back to my room, but I couldn’t take my eyes of off her. She closed the door, placing the milk on the counter, and I smiled, remembering how she told me about the nanny that would give her milk when she couldn’t sleep. I guess I wasn’t the only one tossing and turning tonight.
She stood on her tiptoes trying to reach a glass, but she was an inch shy. I walked over to her, and pressed my chest into her back. “We should get you a step stool,” I said, but before I could take the glass down, she turned around, fist ready and aimed at my face. She went to throw it forward, and I grabbed it, closing my fingers over her balled hand before she could make impact.
“It’s just me,” I assured her.
“What the fuck? You don’t just sneak up on a girl like that.”
I released her hand, and she slapped it against her chest, taking big over dramatic breaths. It was adorable, and, before I could stop myself, I laughed.
“That was so not funny, you sick bastard.”
“Sick bastard? That hurts,” I joked.
“Next time, turn on the light. Send up a flare. Something, so I know it’s you.”
“Who else would it be?”
“I don’t know. Some psycho killer. A ghost. Chucky!”
“The redheaded doll? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. That thing is creepy.”
“Were you watching scary movies by yourself again?” I asked. I had caught her a few times with the TV on at night, curled up in a blanket, her eyes all big and scared.
She stuck her tongue out at me, and damn if that didn’t turn me on. “It’s all that’s on at night.”
“You could watch informercials.”
“And spend money I don’t have. No thanks. I’d rather scare the shit out of myself than feel guilty for getting sucked into the newest diet craze.”
“I’ll have you know those pajama jeans are damn comfy.”
Her face dropped in exaggeration. “Tell me you do not have pajama jeans.”
“I could, but I’d be lying.”
“They don’t even make those for Men.”
“Oh, but they do.”
“Shut up. You’re so lying.” Her eyebrows turned down, and she stared at me as if she knew what my tell was, and she was looking for it. Too bad for her, I had a grade A poker face.
“You might even have seen them. That’s how much they look like jeans.”
“Ha!” She pointed at my face, and I looked at her like she was damn near crazy.
“Ha, nothing.”
“Your nose totally twitched. It does that when you’re bullshitting.”
“It does not.”
“Does too. I noticed it when you were bullshitting that drunk guy the other day, and telling him we were closing because we ran out of alcohol. Very convincing, but your nose twitched.”
“I probably just had an itch.”
She shook her head and smiled. “No, because that wasn’t the first time I noticed it.”
I swore to God I didn’t have a single tell, yet this girl discovered it. Nobody has ever known me well enough, not even myself, to realize it.
“Whatever,” I said, and she stuck her tongue out at me again and turned to the cabinet. She still couldn’t reach the glass so I pressed against her and took the glass down. I placed it on the counter in front of her, but didn’t move. I heard her gasp as my chest pressed into her back.
Heat radiated off of her, and she smelled so fucking good. Like some kind of fruit. Strawberries maybe.. She turned around, and my eyes landed right on her tits. The thin material of her top might as well have been translucent. I could see the outline of her nipples, and how they became harder with each breath she took.
I stepped back before rational thought flew out the fucking window. The small smile on her face fell away, but I tried to not let it bother me. I had enough guilt on my plate. I didn’t need to add to the cluster fuck.
“Thanks,” she whispered. “Can’t sleep either?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Want some milk? It really does help.” She held up the bottle, and smiled the sexiest fucking smile.
I swallowed down the urge to yank her against me. “I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” She poured a glass, and then leaned up against the counter. Her lips slid over the edge of the glass, and all I could think about was her pretty lips sliding up and down my cock.
Screw the Jack. I had to get out of here. “Goodnight,” I said with a forced smile.
She glanced up, her big brown eyes filled with sadness. It looked like she had a thousand thoughts running rampant in her mind. I cocked an eyebrow at her, knowing damn well she had something to say, and wish she’d just get out with it already.
She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, pulling the material tight, and revealing even more of her perfect nipples. “I wish you wouldn’t shut me out.”
I caught her gaze, but quickly diverted my eyes to her nose. Anything but her eyes. They had the power to bring me to my knees. “I never should have let you in in the first place. I’m fucked up. And regardless of what you think, I can’t be fixed.”
“I don’t want to fix you. I just…I want to be here for you, and I can’t if you won’t even look at me.”
“I’m looking at you right now.”
She bit her pouty bottom lip, and my cock pulsed at the sight. “You’re not looking at me, though. You’re looking through me.”
“What’s the difference?”
“You used to look at me, and I’d feel like you were looking into my soul. So deep. To a place only you could see. And, lately, it’s like you’ve put up this wall that keeps you on the surface. Like you don’t want to see me anymore.”
I did want to see her, though. But she was right. Ever since that night, so many years ago, in the back of an alley, she was the only one to break through the wall. It came down for her, and only her, but now she knew the truth about me, and, because of that, I put it back up.
I felt vulnerable and exposed around her now. I hated not being in control. Allowing someone else to have the upper hand scared the shit out of me.
It wasn’t just that, either. The truth was, I was terrified of losing her. Tiffany and I might not have been meant to be together, but at one point in time, I did love her, and losing her…it hurt like hell. The thought of something happening to Lyla, it paralyzed me.
I had already let her in far too much. She had consumed me. Body and soul. I couldn’t have that. So, long as I kept up the wall, I was safe from pain. Safe from ever really being hurt again.
Still, I couldn’t walk away, knowing I caused her any pain. I moved to her and pla
ced my hand on her cheek. She sucked in a ragged breath, and pressed her hand to mine.
“I always see you, Lyla,” I said, and with the restraint of a goddamn champ, I removed her hand from mine, and went to bed alone.
Chapter 7
The next morning, Lyla was gone before I woke up. Surprising since, when she finally did fall asleep, she slept like the dead, and usually didn’t crawl out of her room until mid morning. Just as well. The less we saw of each other the better.
I showered, and then headed down to the bar to do some inventory. I got halfway down the stairs when I noticed Cole sitting at the bar. He was the only person, other than Lyla, who had a spare key.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as I approached the bar.
“Had some time to kill this morning, thought I’d stop by.”
I’d known Cole for a very long time. He was the only person I still spoke to from my past. Cole didn’t just stop by. Either he was fighting with Dee or he wanted to talk about something. Since he didn’t look like a miserable fuck, I was guessing the latter.
I got two rock glasses out, and grabbed the bottle of Jack. I poured a little more than a shot’s worth, and set the bottle back down.
Cole arched an eyebrow over his glasses. “A little early to be drinking, no?”
I eyed him curiously. “You tell me.”
“Might as well leave the bottle out,” he said with a laugh. “I saw Lyla this morning.” He didn’t waste any time, but I appreciated that. I hated people who pussy footed around.
I took a sip from my glass. “She was out early.”
“You told her.” It wasn’t a question, more like a statement.
I nodded, and then downed the rest, relishing in the familiar burn. I knew what to expect from Jack, but with Cole, I had no idea where he was going with this conversation, but I had a feeling I didn’t want to hear it.
Over the years, he tried, just like Lyla did, to get me to think Tiffany’s death wasn’t my fault. He got used to me disappearing for days to months on end. Eventually he stopped bringing it up, until right now.
