Jagged Pill (Broken Lives Book 3)

by Marita A. Hansen

  I turned to leave, just needing to get the hell away from him—as far away and as high as I could possibly get.

  He shot in front of me, blocking the doorway. “You promised to stay.”

  I rolled my eyes, thinking he must be tripping if he thought that would sway me. “You know I’m a liar, so move the fuck outta my way.”

  “No, you promised.”

  I sneered at him. “What are ya? A li’l kid who still believes in promises?” I glanced over my shoulder at the My Little Pony toys on his liquor cabinet. “Guess you are,” I said, looking back at him. “Since you still play with toys.”

  “They’re not mine,” he snapped. “And I don’t take too kindly to people goin’ back on their word.”

  “Stop bein’ such a fuckin’ drama queen. I’ll be back after I get some—”

  “Pussy?” He sneered at me. “Yeah, I bet you’re goin’ out to fuck some manky pussy.”

  “I’m not leaving to fuck.”

  “You are! And I’m not lettin’ ya.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded at me, his jaw jutting out in defiance. I went to push him aside, but he acted faster, shoving me back.

  I blinked at him. “You didn’t fuckin’ just do that?”

  “Try me again and see where it gets ya.”

  “Ha!” I said, thinking he was definitely tripping if he thought he could win against me. “More like where it gets you. On your fuckin’ arse.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Yeah, right.” I went for him again. He tried to shove me away, but I grabbed him. He yelled out in pain, my hand accidentally clamping onto his gunshot wound.

  I let go instantly. “Shit! You all right?”

  He placed a hand over the bandage and shook his head, pain etched across his face. He leaned his head against the door and closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling, looking like I’d hurt him bad.

  I took hold of his hand, causing him to flinch and open his eyes. I removed it from his bandaged arm, checking the damage. Blood was seeping through the bandage, what I’d done having caused it.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t meana hurt ya. Lemme re-bandage it, the nurse did a shit job anyway.”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  “No you’re not.” I let go of his hand and placed my other one on the small of his back, giving him a shove towards the bathroom, which was a hop, skip, and a jump from where we were. Killer’s place was a small one-bedroom cottage next to the Manukau Harbour, which was visible through the rear sliding door. Miles of bright blue sea and even brighter skies stretched out into the distance, a picture-perfect location in a crime ridden suburb.

  “Get your first aid kit out,” I ordered.

  He glanced back at me, looking like he thought I was tricking him. He probably expected me to take off. But I wouldn’t. I’d hurt him and I needed to fix it, like I should’ve done for my family.

  I lifted my chin up. “C’mon, hurry the fuck up, your arm’s bleeding.”

  He turned around and entered the bathroom. I followed close behind, almost banging into the back of him when he stopped suddenly. He was staring at the pill bottles I’d thrown at the wall, most of them lying in his tub.

  He turned to me. “Why did’ja—”

  “I wanted real drugs, not fuckin’ vitamins.”

  “Drugs are bad for you.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that, thanks for tellin’ me,” I said, sarcastically. “Now, get me that first aid kit, you twat.”

  He grimaced at me, but instead of giving me lip back, he squatted down and opened the cupboard under the sink. My eyes went to the smooth expanse of his back, the line of his spine, and...

  He pulled out the first aid kit and rose up, handing it to me.

  Taking it, I gestured for him to sit on the chair by the bathtub. As he sat down, I placed the first aid kit on the sink bench and opened it, finding everything I needed. I turned to Killer, undoing the safety pins that held the bandage together. I unwound the bandage, removing it completely, revealing gauze over his gunshot wound. I peeled it off his arm, relieved I hadn’t popped any stitches. I chucked the gauze in the trash can and washed my hands, then knelt down in front of him, cleaning his wound gently with a facecloth. Droplets of water fell onto his briefs, drawing my attention to the bulge growing in them.

  I looked up at Killer’s face. He was staring down at me, his pupils swallowing his hazel irises. His tongue flicked out, wetting that cock-sucking mouth of his, making my dick twitch with ideas it had no right having.

  Scowling at him, I grabbed another towel and patted his arm dry, willing my cock not to betray me. If Killer wasn’t fucking staring at me, I would’ve punched my traitorous dick, because it was already semi-hard.

  I spread some antiseptic over his bullet wound, then placed a thin layer of gauze over the top, followed by a bandage. As I wound it around his arm, his breathing grew heavy, his chest noticeably moving up and down. I glanced up at his face again. The look he was giving me made my cock harden even more, the sexy bastard a wet dream in the making.

  Maybe I could just—

  Hell no! There was no way I could dip my wick in a dude.

  No fucking way.

  I refocused on his arm, pinning the bandage. Once I’d finished, I rose up, standing over him. Like a heat seeking missile, his eyes zoomed in on my crotch, my hard cock now straining to escape. His gaze flicked up to me, those pretty eyes of his staring at me in surprise. They were framed by unnaturally long eyelashes, making them look as pretty as my ex-wife’s had. I’d always been a sucker for long eyelashes, hazel eyes too, and his eyes were the same colour as hers. For a second, I felt like I was staring into Natasha’s eyes.

  I cleared my throat. “All done,” I said, wondering whether...

  ...that maybe, I could possibly, just once.

  And no one needed to know I’d fucked him. And if he did blab, the gang wouldn’t believe him, my rep with chicks ironclad.

  I shook the thought out of my head. I couldn’t fuck Killer. Yeah, I’d done countless women’s arses, but never a guy’s.

  I turned to leave. Killer grabbed my wrist, stopping me. I pulled free and turned back to him as he rose from the chair.

  “What?” I snapped, pissed off more with myself than him.

  “Please don’t leave me,” he said, giving me a doe-eyed look, probably trying to prey on my sympathies—or my hard cock. I wondered how many straight guys he’d tempted with those pretty eyes of his. Because he sure as fuck was tempting me.

  “I hafta go out sometime,” I replied, my breathing not all that steady. “Gotta get food.”

  He grimaced. “You’re not goin’ out for food and you know it. I know it. So, don’t lie to me.”

  “Fine, I’m lying, but I’m not goin’ out for sex. I’m goin’ out for meth. I wanna get off my face so I can’t remember shit.”

  Those goddamned eyes of his went so big. “You can’t, Hemi said—”

  “Don’t mention his name!” I barked, just wanting one minute, one second where I didn’t have to think about my best mate’s death. To not replay it over and over again in my head. Seeing him get shot down right in front of me.

  Killer’s jaw hardened. “Why? So, you can forget ’bout him?”

  “It’s not like that, Killer, I just need—”

  “No! He helped keep you clean, and you goin’ off to get high is spitting on his memory.”

  I stepped in close to him, getting my face right up to his. “Keep your fuckin’ judgement to yourself, you li’l bitch,” I growled.

  He sneered back at me. “I ain’t li’l,” he said, straightening to his full height. Although he was an inch taller than me, he was no match for my brawn. My shoulders were much wider than his, while my biceps were considerably thicker. He could exercise until the cows came home, but he would never get my strength. His body was made for fucking, not fighting.
/>   My eyes lowered down his body, his cock having softened in his briefs, anger deflating the anaconda in there. My gaze rose back up to his face, his anger gone in an instant. Instead, his cheeks had gone bright red, my perusal having lit a fire behind them.

  “You’re right ’bout not bein’ li’l, your cock’s fuckin’ huge.” I smiled at him cruelly, angling to piss him off. “Pro’bly why you take it up the arse, you faggot. You’d kill someone with that thing.”

  His jaw clenched. “Don’t call me a faggot!”

  “It’s what you are, so why deny it? I don’t pretend I’m not a whore, so suck it up, buttercup.”

  He lifted his chin up. “I’m not ashamed of bein’ gay, but you should be ashamed of bein’ a whore.”

  “Why? It pays the bills, pays for food. It’s a service.”

  “You shouldn’t sell sex, it’s not right.”

  “So, it’s wrong when people judge you for taking cock, but not when I fuck for money?”

  He glared at me, not replying, probably knowing he was being a judgmental twat. Still, it didn’t matter what he thought, because I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t see what was so wrong about fucking for money. I made my clients happy, and they made me happy by paying me, not to mention getting me off. Anyway, everyone else was basically getting fucked by their bosses, mine was just a literal fucking.

  “You should fuck people cos you like them,” Killer said, “not for their money. And how do you expect to get a steady girlfriend or married again if you fuck for a living? No woman would put up with that.”

  “I don’t ever wanna get married again, and all my relationships never last, so I don’t see the problem.”

  He frowned at me. “So, you’re just gonna fuck yourself through life?”

  “You hit it on a nail.”

  “Why? Everyone wants to be with someone.”

  “I had that someone, lost her, don’t want anyone else,” I said, my chest clenching from the memory of my dead wife. Or I should say, ex. She’d pushed me away, and rightfully so. I hadn’t deserved her—or anyone else. I had too many issues, too many problems to lay on a potential partner. I would hurt whoever I went with, which was why being a whore was perfect for me. I still got sex, got paid as well, with no one getting hurt in the process.

  “I want you,” Killer breathed out.

  I took a step back, putting some space between us. “You shouldn’t, you know I’m an arsehole, and straight.”

  His eyes dropped to my crotch. “Then why are you hard?”

  I didn’t reply, knowing he had me on that one.

  He looked back up and took a step towards me, those sexy fucking lips of his moving closer to mine.

  Just once.

  Fuck that mouth, fuck that arse, fuck the lust out of me.

  He licked his lips. They were so full. They always looked a touch swollen, like he’d been kissing someone heatedly—or sucking on cock. My own cock twitched at the thought, liking the idea of his lips wrapped around it.

  Just once.

  No one else needed to know.

  One of his hands moved to my arm tentatively. When I didn’t hit it away, he lifted it to the back of my head, his fingers threading through my hair. I watched him, wondering whether he would kiss me. His lips were a breath away from mine, his body there for the taking.

  Once.

  He pulled my head forward and brushed his lips over mine, his tongue flicking out, willing me to open my mouth for him. But I didn’t. I pushed him back, shoving him hard up against the wall. He yelled out and went to hit me, probably thinking I was going to smack him over for kissing me. I blocked the punch and grabbed him by the throat, smashing my mouth against his instead. He froze, probably in shock, but I didn’t care, the cock tease having pushed me too far this time.

  I let go of his throat and flattened my body against his, pressing him to the wall. He let out a grunt as our groins collided, the both of us as hard as each other. I pried his mouth open with my tongue, delving inside. That seemed to ignite him. He grabbed my head and returned my kiss, being rough, nipping my tongue with his teeth. Instead of putting me off, it turned me on, cranking my lust up even higher.

  I slipped my hands around his back, sliding them underneath his briefs, needing to touch that gorgeous arse of his. He groaned against my mouth, murmuring something indecipherable. He broke the kiss and grabbed my jacket, trying to remove it. I let go of him and helped him tug it off, along with my shirt. His hands went to my zipper before my shirt had even touched the floor. He frantically undid my leather pants and pulled them down over my arse, freeing my raging hard-on. His hand latched onto it, giving my cock a sharp tug. I pried his greedy fingers off it, causing him to complain, but not for long. I spun him around, shoving him face first into the wall. I grabbed his briefs and yanked them down, using my foot to get them off. I groaned at the sight of his naked arse. Women’s butts varied greatly, but none of them, and I meant none, resembled Killer’s muscular, perfectly shaped globes, and fuck I wanted to plough that hole of his.

  I wrenched open the cupboard above the sink and grabbed the pack of condoms, frantically rubbering up. The KY jelly was in my hands within seconds of getting the condom on. I popped the lid open and squirted liquid onto my cock, then between his crack. He groaned and arched his arse out, making me lick my lips in anticipation of entering that fine piece of meat.

  I ran my finger up and down his crack, then around his hole, his groans so fucking sexy I was sure pre-cum was leaking from my cock. I slipped an arm around his chest, then pushed a finger inside him, tweaking his nipple at the same time. He gasped, which turned into a groan as I moved my finger around, widening him for my cock. After he’d adjusted, I added another finger, causing him to whimper and wriggle that fuckable arse of his. A third finger went in, stretching his hole wide enough for a ploughing.

  “Tane,” he moaned. “Fuck me. Please.”

  I removed my fingers and replaced them with my cock, pushing in slowly. I cursed, his arse was so fucking tight it was agony to hold back. Hadn’t expected that at all, had thought the slut would have a loose cunt. But even after loosening it up, it was squeezing the bejesus out of me. I pushed in more, adjusting him to my girth, entering one inch at a time. Halfway in, he shoved his arse back onto my cock, making me want to blow my load right there and then, the clamp around my cock exquisite. I reached between us and grabbed my balls, pulling on them hard to stop from coming.

  “Tane,” Killer croaked out, wriggling his arse about. “Fuck me.”

  “Hold up.”

  “No!” He pulled away and slammed back onto my cock again, making my eyes roll back.

  “God!” I breathed out.

  He did it yet again, this time pulling out a strangled moan from my mouth. He went to do it a fourth time, but I grabbed hold of his hips, forcing him to stay still before I blew my load. He wriggled about, complaining, begging for a fucking, the filth tumbling from his lips turning me on even more. Now ready, I pulled back and slammed inside of him, ripping out a pained holler from his lips. I didn’t stop, the sexy bastard having asked for it. I continued drilling that fine arse of his, my cock punching a hole into his gut. Then the pained cries turned to pleasure and he started pushing back, his arse meeting me with every thrust.

  “Harder!” he cried. “Harder!”

  I bent my legs to angle my cock up and started thrusting upwards. He yelled out even louder, this time sounding really hurt. I stopped, not knowing what the fuck I’d done wrong, since chicks loved it when I did that.

  “Don’t stop!” he cried out. “I want more, more, more!”

  I continued, the guy the loudest fuck I’d ever had, and I’d had plenty of screamers.

  “So good, so good, so good,” he babbled. “Knew it would be, knew it.”

  I closed my eyes, my thoughts not the same. I hadn’t had a clue it would be this good, not even an inkling, because his arse was pure heaven. No chick’s arse or pussy had ever gripped me this
tight. They didn’t allow me to pound them this hard either, and I’d had hundreds of chicks.

  I opened my eyes and watched my cock slide in and out of him. He was bending his muscled legs, pushing down on me, basically riding my cock while standing. Some chicks pushed back, some rode the hell out of me, but with Killer, he didn’t just push back, he owned my cock.

  I pulled out of him, getting a loud complaint in response. He spun around, probably to bitch some more.

  “Shut that cock-sucking mouth of yours and sit on my dick,” I snapped, grabbing the chair.

  I placed it in the centre of the bathroom and sat down, holding my cock up for him. “Ride me, bitch.”

  “Fuck yeah,” he said, climbing onto me.

  He pushed my cock back inside of him. The chair groaned under our combined weight, threatening to break. Ignoring it, Killer wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me, his tongue playing with mine.

  I smacked his arse, growling, “Get fuckin’ moving.”

  He groaned against my lips and went at it, moving up and down my cock. I grabbed onto his hips, ramming him down onto it harder, getting gasps and curses out of that dirty, sexy mouth of his. I stared at his full lips, imagining using it just for that. Pumping my cock in and out of it, making him gag, making him choke, coming down his throat.

  He squeezed his hole, causing my breath to hitch. Fuck! He did it again. My cock twitched inside of him, the heat building in my belly at a rapid rate, threatening to explode. I was close, so fucking close to coming, something I couldn’t believe. I could hold on forever, even with my ex-wife, only letting myself come when I knew the chick was ready. I was also the one who did all the work, making the chick groan in pleasure, but Killer...

  He was working me, or more precisely, working me up and up and... I gasped. That arse ... damn, it felt so bloody good, and that body, so fucking hot, his sweet cunt making my cock feel insane amounts of pleasure. I didn’t know why I’d been such an arsehole to him in the past. Maybe it was precisely because of this, because I’d always known I’d wanted to fuck him, just didn’t want to be a...

  ...faggot.

  It had been drummed into me that being gay was bad. But it felt so fucking good right now. No, it felt beyond good, exquisite closer to the mark. His arse was clenching my cock, causing my balls to pull up so tight they hurt. But pleasure overrode everything, overrode the fact a man’s tongue was in my mouth, his naked body moving over mine.