by Brooke May
“Hey Parker, great runs today.” Jax places two water bottles on the table, keeping one for himself. “I thought you would be long gone by now.”
“Hey Jax, nah, I thought I saw you earlier, and I wanted to see if you and your friends wanted to come to Clutch tonight. I can get you on the VIP list.”
“I’m not sure.” Jax rubs his legs as if he can feel any sore muscles. Compared to the rest of his body, his legs look like an elderly man’s set of toothpicks.
“Len will be there.”
Len? Who the fuck is Len?
This seems to perk Jax up instantly, causing a smile far too big for his face to spread. “Really?” Taking a moment to look at me and then at Levi, he asks, “You two up for some partying tonight?”
Pussy … it can do strange things to a man.
“There will be plenty of fine tail to go around,” Parker offers, perking up both Levi and me. “Just text me and let me know, Jax.” Parker looks down at his phone and groans. “Paige wants to get the fuck out of here.”
“Will do.”
Levi is the first to jump up with renewed excitement. Frankly, I feel a little old after running around all these younger guys today.
When in the hell did that happen? I used to be the life of the party.
“Let’s go.” He looks at me just as my phone goes off again. “Tell Meg you’re going out with us tonight and to go find her girlfriends to do the same. Clutch isn’t her scene.”
“I don’t need to tell Megan anything.”
Notice what I’m doing? Yeah, I knew you were smart. I’m not planning to call her Meg anymore. The nickname implies we are intimate on some level.
And we aren’t.
I need to find someone to forget my issues with for the night. Going to the club with Levi and Jax is just what the doctor ordered.
“Why the hell not?” Standing, I stretch and throw my bottle in the waste. “Let’s go.” Grabbing Jax’s push handles, I start to push him toward the car park. “Besides, I’m curious to see who this Len is.”
Chapter Seven
Megan: Will you answer me, please?
Megan: We need to discuss last night.
Megan: Axle, please. This is important.
Me: Not tonight, Megan. I’m busy.
Megan: This is far more important.
Me: Sorry, tonight it isn’t.
Megan: Don’t call me next time you’re too lazy to get a piece of ass, Axle.
The fuck?
Is she trying to turn this on me?
Like she is the one trying to put distance between us? Why does the woman have to make this so fucking complicated?
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I ignore the onslaught of texts from Megan. I’m ready to get out of the apartment before she decides to show up here and cause a scene.
You know it’s coming, don’t you?
“Jax, you ready yet?”
“Already headin’ out the door. Hurry up.” I want to laugh at him. I’ve never seen him this way. Normally, clubs aren’t his scene since he struggles to get around, but something about this Len has him raring to go.
Shaking my head, I make my way to the cars and slam myself into Jax’s van. And then I freeze. Standing in the guest parking is Megan, right next to her abomination of a car. Her nose wrinkles up in an adolescent attempt to throw a fit. It pisses her off she doesn’t get a reaction out of me, or better yet, she can’t say shit about what I do or who I do.
“Drive away from the crazy, mate.” Slapping the dashboard, I ignore Jax’s perplexed gaze.
“I told you this would happen.”
“Fuck right off.” He laughs as he backs out. Jax paid a pretty penny for this massive machine. He didn’t like having others drive him around; he didn’t feel the need to bug someone to take him somewhere or to pay someone. Instead, he paid for this beast we dubbed the Bangin’ Wagon to be able to drive himself.
“I saw crazy in her eyes,” he sing-songs.
“Fuckin’ aye, Jax. Just drop it already.” Out of frustration, I pull on the sleeves of my shirt. Thankfully, Clutch isn’t far from our apartment. If it was any farther into the city, I would jump out of the van and walk the rest of the way to avoid talking about my issues with Megan.
“Fine. I’ll let it go for now, but you know she isn’t done—”
“Yeah, yeah, save it, Elisa.” Grumbling, I watch heads turn when we pull into the club’s car park. I’ve been here a time or two but only with Levi. As I said, Jax doesn’t do the club scene.
After Jax parks us, I get out and wait for him to unlock his chair and wheel himself down the insanely slow ramp. The man comes with benefits; handicap parking and getting easy access into places is just a couple of them. I don’t partake in the benefits like he wishes I would, but tonight, I will make an exception.
He says the pity shit works for him when he needs to get laid.
If you ask me, pity sex is the worse. Who wants a woman to fuck you just because she feels bad for you?
No, thank you.
“There’s Levi.” Pointing at the front of the line where Levi waits with the bouncer and a wide shit-eating grin on his smug face, I’m instantly annoyed.
“You should see some of the women walking in here.” Levi peeks in and comes back with a broader smile. “Yes,” he hisses while pumping his fist like he scored a goal.
Not all of us can be mature, and poor Levi tends to be the slow one.
“You ain’t going to get any ass if you aren’t on the list, Crowe.” The bouncer pushes Levi back and eyes me skeptically. The last time I was here, I was thrown out for getting into a fight.
That was two weeks ago, and I still claim I didn’t know the woman was married. She wore no ring and certainly didn’t fuck like a married woman.
“Jax, Levi, and …” Trailing off, he looks back up at me from his clipboard, pinning me with a threatening glare. “Axle, you are all on the VIP list.” Dropping his clipboard to his side, he stares at us, flabbergasted. “How the hell did you manage that?”
Shrugging, I answer him, “It’s not who you know but who you blow.” Clapping his arm, I grin and lead the charge into the club.
The loud bass of the music vibrates through the floorboards and up into my body. The strobe lights throb and beat against the mass of bodies bumping and grinding to the music. The place smells like booze, sex, and raunchy fun.
Fuck, yes. I’m ready for this.
Clutch is different from most clubs where VIP sections are on the second floor. This club is all on one floor, a plus for my mate in the wheelchair. Levi and I have become accustomed to leading the way for Jax when in crowds. My massive body alongside Levi’s makes for a wide berth.
Finally making our way to the VIP section, yet another bouncer with another clipboard stops us and asks once more for our names. Once we are past, we find nothing but fake tits, fake arses, and Parker surrounded by a sea of women.
“Hey!” Raising his arm from around two of the women’s shoulders, Parker summons us over with a drunk smile firmly in place. “You made it!” He laughs, letting the ladies rub against him.
I want to be Parker when I grow up.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? I could easily steal these women from him.
“Guys, meet Parker’s pussies. Pussies meet the guys.” He laughs. Not one of those women seems to mind sharing him.
I take it back; I want to be Parker.
Jax waves but seems far more interested in looking out at the club while Levi and I drool over the ocean of tits.
Playtime.
Rubbing my hands together, I dive right in, finding a leggy brunette. I don’t care if I don’t remember her name by the end of the night. This is all about fun.
“I’m stealing you from Parker.” Kissing her hand, I make sure she can clearly hear my accent. I still don’t get how any Yank thinks I have one, but it turns women on, so it works in my favor.
Giggling, she blushes. I’m not sure if it is the
alcohol already in her system or me. I highly doubt a woman referred to as one of Parker’s pussies can blush this easily.
“I’m Natalia.” She licks her lips.
Now that right there is a hard-on waiting. We’ve already covered that biting your lip doesn’t do shit for me. But you lick those sexy lips of yours, imagining my dick swelling in my jeans for you to either blow or to slam into your tight pussy … yeah, that’s hot as fuck.
“Dance with me?” I offer my arm to her, and she doesn’t even think of it when her manicured hand slides along the inside of my bicep and squeezes when I flex for her. I’m ready for a firm arse to be pressed against me, making me hard for her.
If things go as hoped, I could be getting a mighty fine blow job later.
“Wait!” Parker halts Natalia and me, handing us both shots. “To pussy.” He raises his glass. I connect with my friends for a moment and do the same as Parker.
“To pussy.” Slamming it back, I get myself ready for the night ahead.
And so begins my night of mindless dry humping on the dance floor and slamming back more shots while downing whatever drinks Parker offers us.
Natalia’s rounded arse grinds against my dick at every opportune moment while I have her on the dance floor. I’ve homed in on her, selecting her to be the one I fuck into a mind-numbing amazing stupor at her place before I find my way back to my own bed. And I can’t wait for that. Even if I have to walk my drunk, sated, happy arse all the way back to my flat.
I know I’m pissed—three sheets to the wind— just based on my unsureness of the time, the amount of liquor I’ve consumed, and what number of dances it has taken sexy, fine arse and me to have nearly made it to indecent exposure.
Tanked.
Fucked up.
Completely and utterly shitfaced.
And I’m loving every moment.
Levi has joined me with a couple of his own girls; gyrating, fisting their hair, and fucking both their mouths with his tongue as they dance around him with one another. I’m not completely sure where our wheeled buddy has rolled off to, but at this point, I don’t really care. I have a ride for now.
As I thread my fingers into Natalia’s long, thick hair, I don’t think of the ache I’ve had last night and today for a certain woman who seems to have darkness not only floating around her in the waves of her hair and the clothes she wears, but also in the air she breathes.
“You’ll take a good, hard fucking, won’t you, doll?” My lips glide against her ear, sending a spasm through her whole body. “Tear you out of this dress.” My nose nudges under her decorated lobe. My lips feel the hair on her neck stand on end. “Bend you over the counter, couch, bed, whatever the fuck you’ve got, and slam my thick dick into your tight, waiting, and soaked pussy.”
“Y-yes.” Her voice quakes with an unsteady breath.
Dragging my face through her hair to her opposite ear, I continue, “I bet I could reach under this tiny scrap of a dress you’re wearing and find you wet for me.” I nip at her ear. “And you wouldn’t stop me.”
“Oh, God.” Her head lolls to my pec, turning to try to capture my lips, but I pull back, teasing her with a grin.
“No God here to save you from me.”
“Yes, take me. Now, Axle. Please?” She mewls, purrs, and gently thrusts her arse into my groin as if I’m already fucking her from behind. It makes me hard as granite.
I’m done playing with her in the public eye. I’m not one against sex where someone can see us, but I need a good hard fucking somewhere where I can spread her out for me to feast on until the early morning light shines through the windows of her place.
Briefly closing my eyes—only long enough to focus on getting us off the dance floor and out of the club—I suddenly feel cold air in front of me where there once was a warm, willing, and waiting body.
“The fuck?”
My eyes slice open just in time to catch a head of darker hair coming into my line of vision and a fuller, curvier, and firmer body pressing against mine.
“As I asked before, are needy girls your thing, Oz?” Paige whips her longer locks over one shoulder as her arse thrusts back, hitting me harder and doing nothing to take away from my massive erection.
“Shit,” I hiss, trying to rein myself in, but it doesn’t work. This woman is like liquid fire, seeping into every pore of my body and governing me to her whim.
Paige quickly twirls; straddling one of my thighs between her firm ones. She glides her pussy up and down my leg, and I can feel the heat through both my jeans and her tiny arse skirt. If my dick was granite before, I don’t know how to classify it now.
“Maybe.” Pushing her hair off her shoulders, I thread my fingers into the soft, dark locks, holding her face close to me. “I’m ready for a real woman.”
Chapter Eight
What the fuck is happening?
Why the hell is she laughing at me?
I don’t think I said anything funny, do you?
Paige certainly has found something humorous in my statement. Her hips roll and thrust against me, sending all logical and coherent thoughts far from my mind as primal urges take full control.
Moving on their own accord, my hands reach for her waist, but she has other plans. Once more, Paige twirls and presses her supple arse against me. Picking her hair up in the way women do to remind you of sex, over her shoulder, she looks up at me with green eyes with halos of black.
“What are you doing here?” Watching her red lips move sensually, I crave them in a way I never thought possible. A coy smile plays across her face as her eyes darken and hood.
She’s an angel of death, and I just pray my death will come by her fucking amazing body.
“P-Parker invited us, me, my friends?” I am really not liking this tongue-tied loser I’ve become whenever she is near me, breathing the same air as me, and gyrating in my atmosphere.
Her chuckle is like the rest of her appearance. It too is dark and I’m pulled in. I’ve always driven a fine line between dark and light, never feeling pulled in by one or the other, even at my lowest points. Paige pulls me in, pulls me to the darkness, and I want nothing more than to let it consume me.
“Figures.” She shakes her head, her black tresses floating around me and giving me the scent of gas, oil, track dirt, and her own sweat. It’s a heady mixture. I’ve never been drawn to a woman by the scent but this one drives me crazy. “No girlfriend?” She looks around but wears an impassive gaze, showing me how little she really cares about the subject.
My nostrils flare as I take in more of her wonderful concoction of natural perfume before I speak. I let it burn into my lungs like a drag of a good cigarette, searing me for eternity.
“I’m not here to work, and there is no fucking girlfriend.” Growling, I finally wrap my hands around her wide hips and pull her tightly to me, halting her ability to move.
Her grin is back in place as she gazes down at one of my hands. Rolling her hips back and forth, she flattens her arse against my dick. “Well, that makes this easier.”
Before I am given a moment to ask her what makes what easier, she turns and her red lips find mine in a rush, stealing the breath from my lungs and stopping any brain function. My dick takes full control of my bodily functions.
Heat ripples through me as she consumes me. The taste on her tongue is smoky, filled with nicotine, and the slightest taste of sweat from the corner of her mouth. My dick surges, and I thrust against her stomach when I feel rather than hear the distinct click of a tongue ring hitting my teeth.
We float off the dance floor, never breaking contact even when we reach a darkened booth in the back of the VIP section. The back of my calves hit a bench seat when Paige rips her lips from mine. I see everything I feel on the inside for this woman reflected in her eyes, driving me mad with lust. I’ve never wanted to bury my dick in someone as badly as I want to slam into Paige’s pussy.
Her pink tongue with its black ball slithers out and drags across he
r upper lip in slow motion.
Time has stopped.
The music has faded away.
The only thing I can smell is her unique scent.
The only thing I can hear is my blood thundering through my veins and pounding in my ears.
The only thing I can feel is my dick throbbing, pulsating to a beat only this woman can conduct.
Paige takes a strong step back into my space. With equally strong and brave hands, she undoes my belt, and in an achingly slow way, she pops the buttons of my jeans. A cool breeze hits my overheated flesh.
What can I say? I don’t wear underwear sometimes. Weekends are mainly when I free ball it.
A hiss escapes between my teeth as Paige’s warm, dry hand presses against me and proudly slides down to wrap around my dick. Tension riddles my body as she slowly yet firmly strokes me. She isn’t gentle at all, and I fucking love it.
Returning to the base, she strokes again, and this time, she stops at my piercings. Her talented fingers roam over them. Tugging and lightly pulling them earns her another hiss from me.
It hurts so good.
“Pierced and tattooed, you’ll do nicely.” Pushing me back onto the bench and keeping her hand down my pants, she crawls on top of me so her long hair fans around me. Her green eyes have a sheen to them, almost a twinkle as her mouth rejoins mine.
Paige continues her slow control of my dick as we continue to kiss. My hands wrap around her hips once more, and they move with her as she slowly rocks against me, adding to the pressure building within me.
Her strokes become stronger and more urgent, bringing me closer to coming in my goddamn pants like a teenager. I’ve never had a build-up like this before. I’ve never come so quickly.
It will be completely worth it.
Having my own cum in my pants is something I can bear with until I get home. And then I probably won’t shower because I’ll want to keep her scent on my body while I sleep.
