by April Lust
I let her hold on to me another several seconds, returning the hug with her forearms in my hands. Then I gave them a squeeze to let her know it was enough. I stood up to get dressed back in my street clothes: a pair of dark tight skinny jeans, an off-the-shoulder knit top in marine blue that did wonders for my skin tone, and my favorite pair of tall brown leather boots with a killer heel.
“It’s all going to work out. Actually, maybe it’s perfect, now. I’ve got the perfect excuse to get Mr. Fletch on his own, without any of the biker guys. I can play the sympathy card; they’ll all eat it up. Don’t worry ’bout me, okay, hon? I think I just need to get out there and let it roll. I can make this work.”
She looked at me and slowly nodded. “I can see you think you will. Just be super careful, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Hey—can you tell me, did you see where Mr. O. went after I left, out there? Is he still hanging around? I really don’t want to run into him again tonight.”
“Oh, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout him tonight, baby girl.” She let out a single laugh. “His nose was messed up so bad, I’m pretty sure he’s long gone. Gotta fix himself pretty again. He’ll be licking his wounds for a little while.”
“Good. Thanks, B. Really.” I took a steadying breath and stood up again, boots now zipped. I grabbed my shoulder bag, checked it for its most important resident handgun, and turned toward the door. “Okay. Let’s do this. Wish me luck.”
“Always, babe. Do what you need to do. Even if I hate for you to do it.”
I looked at her one last time and nodded with a little half smile and determination in my eyes. “Onward.” And I left in search of my prey.
When I reached the main clubroom, I was ready to finally end this thing. Clearly, my asshat boss had been ready to pimp me out to his VIP, so I was done with this gig. No matter that I hadn’t quite saved up enough money to do what I really wanted to do yet, no matter that I hadn’t planned on tonight being the night. The fact was, it had gotten too dangerous for me here in the club. Torch could not be there to protect me during every shift, and I could not allow myself to have to rely on any man for protection. So, if it was unsafe, it needed to stop, and I needed to go. ASAP.
Looking around, I didn’t see Mr. Fletch, and I didn’t see Torch. It was as if my eyes were conditioned like Pavlov’s dog to always search him out in any new space. I really did need to get my head clear of him; he was getting to be like an addiction for me—one I needed to steer clear of, for the rest of tonight at least. And after that, the likelihood of seeing him again dropped off into an infinitesimally small ratio. All the better, my mind tried to insist. I couldn’t say my heart or body was buying it.
I stopped at the bar to ask Minnie if she knew where I could find Mr. Fletch. As was predictable, he was upstairs in his office. Not my lucky day—I’d have to get through two of the biker brutes to get to him—one just to get on the fucking elevator, and the other at the door. Presuming he was even alone in the office; half the time, he kept one inside as well, guarding the door from the inside. The Boss was fucking paranoid.
Well, I’d do anything at this point—including use my body, in whatever way necessary. It would be worth it. I needed this shit to end.
I managed to get on the elevator without a hitch. The guy standing guard in the lobby was having a smoke at the open door, just eyeballing the space, and he nodded me up. Lucky break.
Unfortunately, the next guy, standing outside Murdering Fletch’s office door, wasn’t inclined to be so easy.
He was a huge, dark, scary-looking guy, with a heavy brow and hooded eyes, so he was kind of hard to read in the semidarkness. And he had a scar like a knife slash crisscrossing his forehead and right cheek, like a sideways V. “What do you want, chica? Boss is pretty busy tonight.”
“Yeah, I figured. I just really need to talk to him, ya know? After what happened…” I let the sentence hang.
“Heard about that. Didn’t see it. How bad do you want it, to talk to the Boss? Why don’t you talk to me first? I think maybe I can help you out, fix that little itch I heard about.” His left cheek raised in a dark smirk, his eyes still half-closed. He stepped closer to me, putting his hands on my waist, and let his gaze drift down to my cleavage, which was showing pretty nicely in the low droop of my top. He slowly ran his hands up, cupping my breasts and giving them a squeeze before stopping at my shoulders. He put on downward pressure, forcing me to my knees, and drawled, “Get ready to suck for your life, chica. Make it good.”
I closed my eyes for a moment, steeling myself for the inevitable, and reminded myself of the greater purpose. I could do this. I was prepared to do this, but it sure didn’t feel good. I choked down a swallow. By this time, he had one hand on top of my head, holding me in place, while the other undid his belt buckle. I watched that hand, not wanting to meet his eyes, not wanting him to see my thoughts or my anger.
Just then, the elevator doors opened again, and Torch was there in the hallway. He stopped when he saw us in front of the Boss’s office door and took in the situation. He scowled and nearly shouted in his deep, gritty baritone, “Manos, get your fucking hands off her. Goddamnit, I am not doin’ this twice in one fucking night. Step the fuck away.”
Manos actually followed the order, chuckling. When he reached us, Torch took my hand in his, pulled me up, and turned back around to the elevator bank, dragging me behind him like a fucking Neanderthal. He didn’t say a word to me; he didn’t even look at me.
“You makin’ a claim, Torch?” Manos called out.
“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Torch grumbled back ambiguously.
“What the fuck, Torch?” I resisted. I had been so close! Despite the BJ near-miss (for which I was actually grateful), Torch was getting in the way of my scheme, and that was not okay. I needed to get into the office, not extracted away from it.
“Language, babe.” And he shook his head. It only made me angrier.
“Torch, you don’t get it. I got things to do, and they do not involve you. I do not need this shit right now.”
“Babe, yet again I find another man’s hands all over you tonight, and that shit stopped flyin’ about an hour ago. And you and your mouth keep goin’ off. I’ve taken about all I can take. So you are coming with me, and you will shut your fuckin’ mouth. Now shut. The fuck. Up.” Whoa. He was pissed.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped in, pulling me to follow. I crashed into his side, where he pinned me and reached in front to hit the Lobby button. We rode down in angry silence.
When we got down to the lobby, he let go of my side, snagging my hand like I was some little kid likely to wander, and strode swiftly through the club straight to the back rooms. I followed in acquiescence as best I could, not wanting to put on another public display.
Plus, I was just downright drawn to follow him. I loved his scent, his gorgeous big muscular body, his tight round ass. I really could do nothing but follow it. He lured me. And he didn’t even have to do anything special to get me. God, I was a goner.
As we got closer and closer to the private rooms, my body clicked in to what might be about to happen next, and my panties flooded in anticipation. If my mind’s plan wasn’t going to happen tonight, it looked like my body’s plan was. And it was absolutely psyched about it.
Chapter 4
Torch
By the time we finally got into one of the back rooms and I had hit the button to the side of the door that would show the room as occupied and give us uninterrupted privacy, I had gotten a lock on my anger at seeing her down on her knees in front of Manos. To some extent.
I was fucking mad as hell at Manos, but I could tell from his reaction to my outburst upstairs that he thought it was fucking funny to see me go off like that. He read me right, too. I was making a claim.
But she had pissed me off, as well, putting herself in the lines of danger with Danny Fletch, Michael fucking Owen, and now Manos on top of it. What the fuck was she thinking? And why was I all of
a sudden feeling so goddamned protective of her? I couldn’t fucking stand to see any man’s hands on her, was what it boiled down to. So tonight, that shit ended. Bottom line.
It was time for us to get our shit sorted, since it was clear to me that my feelings for her had tipped beyond appreciation for her lap dances. It was like she was mine, and it was time she knew it and acknowledged it.
When I closed the door behind her and leaned back against it, she turned around in the middle of the room and looked at me. “So, what now, Torch? What do you want from me? You want a blowjob? Huh? I can give you that. Make yourself comfortable, big guy. I’ll take care of you.”
Fuck. Bossy. And what the hell was wrong with her tonight? It was like she was asking to be taken advantage of, to be treated like some cheap whore, like it didn’t matter if it was Manos, or me. Man, did that piss me off. Because that’s not who she was. She was too special for that. And smarter than that. I knew it, and I knew she knew it. So this shit tonight? Did not compute.
There was something she was aiming at, and I couldn’t figure it out. I needed information, and there was only one way to get it.
“We gotta clear some shit up now, Erin. I really don’t like what I’m seein’ and hearin’ from you, and you need to understand I am not cool with it. Whatever you got goin’ on, babe, you need to tone it down. You askin’ to be raped, woman? ’Cause it’s damn near lookin’ like that. You’re playin’ with fire. I do not want to see you get burned. You hearin’ me?”
She looked down at her feet, took a moment, and nodded.
“Answer me, Erin. Do you hear what I’m sayin’?”
“Yeah, Torch, I hear you.”
“I’m not going to stand around and let that happen. Okay? Whatever is going on, I’m not going to watch you burn. You need help, you ask me for it. You need protection, you got it. You have a problem, you come to me. I’m on your side. You understand me?”
She looked me in the eyes, but I could see the wheels turning and she was uncertain. “I can’t ask you to take care of my problems, Torch. It’s kind of you to offer, but I have things I need to take care of, and nobody else can do it for me. It’s not your business. I won’t let it be. It’s mine, and I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure it gets sorted right. That’s the only thing I need to do. That is my job, and you have to let me do it. So I appreciate the thought, but really, you gotta just let me do my thing, and whatever happens, happens.”
I shook my head. “Oh no you don’t. I’m telling you now, Erin, things changed tonight. What I saw up there…When Manos— What the fuck, Erin? You can’t be okay with that shit. That’s not you. I know that’s not you. You can’t tell me you were okay with that. And I can’t just sit back and let that shit go down with you. Fuck! I can’t stand the thought of anybody’s hands on you but mine, and you gotta make yourself okay with that new reality right the fuck now. Because that is where we are.”
Her eyes widened, and she took in my honesty by locking eyes with me and pulling her lower lip into her mouth, sucking lightly. I gave her a moment.
“You got anything to say about that, Erin? You better say it now.”
“I’m not sure what to say about that, Torch.”
“You got any objection?”
“Uh-uhn.” She shook her head slightly, in the negative.
“You got anything to add?”
She waited a moment, then stepped toward me and reached up to cup the back of my neck, pulling my mouth to hers. As soon as her lips touched mine, my control snapped and I grabbed her by the sides of her face, and immediately the shy kiss went fierce. My fingers fanned out into her hair, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth, sweeping it in search of her own. She tasted like mint and something sweet, and our breaths mixed as our tongues danced desperately. There was nothing held back. It was like we’d both been dying to do this for months and now were finally allowing our mouths to taste and suck and bite and feel with nothing held back. I bit her lower lip; she dragged it out of my mouth, smiled wide, looked deep into my eyes, then looked back at my mouth. Her gaze had gone dark, her breathing jacked, and she grabbed my head with both hands and drew me back in for another scorching kiss.
She tried to push my kutte off my shoulders, so I shrugged it off and tossed it somewhere. I pulled her top up off her torso, over her head, and threw it to the side, too.
I stripped my T-shirt over my head; she stripped off her bra. Then we crashed into one another again, skin to skin, her breasts smashed against my ribs, giving way to my hard chest. Our mouths adhered again, our tongues lashing and pushing and swirling and sucking.
I swung us around and caged her in against the wall, pushing my thigh between her legs. She caught on right away, hooking her arms around my back with her fingers grasping on to the tops of my shoulders, while she rode my leg and moaned into our joined mouths. Our breaths were starting to come short as we shared oxygen, and our teeth clashed. One of us gasped a single laugh, and then we couldn’t stop, we were both starving for more.
I’d about run out of patience. I needed to feel her wetness, smell her pussy, taste her juices. I needed to embed myself in her, mark her, take her, and know she was mine. I needed her to know it, to want it, to accept it, to love it.
I slid my hand down past the top of her jeans, under her panties to the wet heat hidden inside. She hooked one leg around my hip, giving me better access, and brought one hand down to squeeze my thick cock through my jeans.
“Fuck. Get these off.” I didn’t know if she meant my jeans or hers, so I made the executive decision that hers had to go first. I undid her button and slid down the zipper, then grabbed the waist at each side and stripped them off her, along with her panties, crouching down as I went. She held on to my shoulders for balance, stepped out of each leg, and urged me back up.
Then it was her turn; she fumbled with my belt, ripped open the button fly, and pushed my jeans down my hips. I aided the effort, getting rid of the pants with my boxer briefs at the same time, and finally we were both free of encumbrance.
My cock stood tall and strong at full attention, and she palmed it with both hands, spreading the drops of precum around its bulbous head with her thumb as her other hand gripped me firmly at the base and squeezed her way up the shaft. I groaned and returned my hand to her soaking lips, spreading her juices up around her clit, down to her hole and back, and using the pressure of my palm for her to buck against.
I had my mouth on the side of her neck, pulling the soft skin in wet suction, tonguing her throbbing pulse. I worked my way down to her chest, finally pulling one hardened nipple in between my lips, giving it a sharp bite before sucking hard and rolling my tongue around it. She moaned and leaned her elbow on my solid shoulder, unable to focus enough to support her own weight.
I released her nipple and removed myself for a moment, but she was so unstable I had to give her a moment with my hands on her hips before she clicked in that she needed to support herself again. I found my jeans, dug out the foil packet, and ripped it open with my mouth. She grabbed the condom and deftly held the tip and rolled it over my length with firm pressure. I both loved and hated the condom in that moment. Finally, I moved both my hands to her gorgeous generous ass and lifted her into position at the tip of my ready cock. Her legs wrapped around my hips and down the backs of my own. Our eyes caught and held as I pushed my way into her hot center—she was so tight, it wasn’t an easy thrust. I knew I was bigger than most, thick and long and with that big head. She needed a minute to adjust, to embrace me fully. Her breath was coming in shallow gasps, and she wiggled her hips a little, trying to force her body to get with the program faster.
“You’re fucking huge, Torch.” Her puffed lips were open, her eyes hooded with desire. She was so fucking sexy.
My blood was pounding so hard, I couldn’t think to answer. I backed out a little, and thrust forward again, gaining more ground, until finally sliding in down to my base. When our pelvises hit contact, she mewled and
threw back her head in sensation.
I was finally inside. She was hot and tight and wet and sweet, and I couldn’t keep myself from growling, “Mine.”
She brought her head back to level, and her eyes flared in surprise. But I was gone; there was no stopping this train.
I pulled out of her and then pushed back in with force. “Mine.” Again. “Mine.” Again. “Mine.” Again. “Mine.”
With each thrust, she keened a little, her hips matching mine in the urgent dance. And then the keens stopped, replaced with “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” Over and over again, we pounded each other, gripped each other, inhaled each other, and devoured each other with our bodies.
I could tell she was getting close; her cries had gone all high-pitched, and her head was thrown back as she reached for it. I allowed the wall to take a little more of her weight and shifted so I could bring one hand in between us, then thumbed her clit in circles and hard taps, giving her that extra so she could get there.
