Girl For Rent: A Dark Romantic Comedy
Page 125
Bringing my nails around to his back, I dig my nails in and pull down to his ass, just enough to distract him. Harlan takes the message and pulls out of my mouth with a wet pop. I feel a little shake come from him.
"Give me that pussy now," Harlan says in a voice that would be frightening in any other context. He is not to be fucked with, and I like that he needs me that much. I almost want to tease him, but I need him too much and I don't want to fuck with him. Not this time. I file a mental note though that if I hear that voice sometime when I'm not utterly rabid for him to ram his cock in my swollen pussy, that's the time to be coy. Some. Other. Time.
I lock my hands together behind his neck and he grabs one of my thighs and he lifts it up, high, so that when he slams into me it is so deep I scream. Not some muffled, lusty moan. The intensity of the angle and sensation makes me fucking shriek out and it echoes around the walls. Harlan closes his mouth around mine, deleting the distance between us. My throat is raw from how good he fucked me. This kiss is bruising, punishing, lethal as it is so full of passion. He's kissing me the way he's fucking me, in long, deep strokes full of need. Our tongues are at fucking war, not with each other, but against anything between us. I'm moaning into his mouth and he's fucking moaning into my mouth. It is so damn hot to hear him, feel him, that my clit is twitching. Heat is pooled in my stomach and I know that I could come right now if I wanted to, but I don't want this to end.
Of course, that's when he brings his fingers to my clit and releases me from the kiss as I start moaning his name, loudly and insistently. I come so hard that he has to slam his cock even harder into me because that's how hard I'm pushing back, gushing cum from how fucking hard I'm coming. I'm trembling, but he's holding me up with one hand and not relenting from my clit with the other. I am stuck in time, a lust-shaken haze where I can't stop feeling the fireworks inside, lighting me up in every pore and fiber of my being. When he finally stops, Harlan's fingers giving my clit some relief, Harlan slides his cock out of me and he scoops me into his arms. I feel empty without him. He turns off the water and brings my wet body back to the bedroom. He rips the filthy, wet sheets off the bed and lays my soaking wet body on the bed. He makes this show of laying me down, but as soon as he lies down next to me, he curls me against him and pulls me on top. I summon my second wind, because though a cuddle session may end this fuck fest, I'm not there yet. I need him more than I need to breath. I have to have Harlan's cock in me and once he's got me on top of him, I sit up and slide his cock back in me. Watching his face, I start to bounce up and down on his cock until his breathing is ragged.
This is how I want him to come, with me on top of him, my hands on his chest, while I'm in the driver's seat. He's close, but Harlan is not a man to be out of control. His hands close over my wrists and his hips slam us together even more until I'm screaming too. He comes hot spurts inside me and I'm fucking coming again, even harder. His grip on me is intense, and I know his fingerprints are branding me. Harlan's eyes never leave mine while both come, hard, and it is so fucking hot trying to focus on that rather than letting my eyes roll back in my head with this orgasm. It turns into countless waves of pleasure, cascading through me while my pussy milks his cock for every last drop he has. We're both gasping, moaning, but while looking at each other, and we're wet from the shower, but slick with new sweat. Finally collapsing on his chest, I know that I'm not up for anything resembling walking right now, much less taking another shower. I collapse against his chest and he pulls me into the crook of his arm. I loop my leg over him and exhale, my whole body still shaky and trembling. Harlan's body—not just his cock—is so fucking huge, firm, strong, holding me like this that despite the utter exhaustion, I feel myself getting wetter just feeling him hold me.
"Was it everything you hoped for, big bad bikers in every hole?" Harlan is saying this in a mocking way, in a playful way, but my heart is racing with how his fingers are stroking along my side. His touch lights me up in a way that no other man—or even several men, at once—can do.
"There are no words," I begin. "But I think your cock takes first prize. Don't tell your buddies, I wouldn't want to hurt the feelings of such nice, upstanding gentlemen," I say, my own tone playful now.
Harlan laughs and squeezes me against him. "You're not some club whore. No way they're ever getting a taste of that pussy again. Or that ass. I could live and die fucking your tight ass," he says with a distant look in his eyes for a moment. I am dying to know what's going on in his head. He must know what I'm thinking, because Harlan cups my face and kisses me hungrily, as if we aren't two people who just had a totally crazy all out frenzy in my body.
He breaks the kiss and says into my mouth, "That pussy is mine." His fingers entwine with my hair and pull me closer to him. "That ass is mine." He groans and his lips graze mine. "That mouth is mine." We kiss again and I can't help my slutty self, I am moaning into his mouth.
"Damn, your lady is insatiable, hooping like an old barn owl still!" One of the guys bangs on our door and shouts out, but we aren't listening.
If Harlan's tongue is an indicator of his thoughts, they are running parallel to my own line of imaginings. Three bikers are nice, and so very fucking naughty, but Harlan fucking me is all the biker cock a girl could ever need, or want. It feels damn good to give in, let go, and just ride every pleasurable wave of sensation with Harlan. My tongue explores his mouth and I'm back on top of him. His hands grab my ass, and I'm already humping him again. Like, fuck, we can't possibly go again, but there's something animalistic and feral between us. I have to rub my pussy on his cock, and I feel him hard for me with what I now know is a very magical cock. When we come up for air, I bite my lower lip and let my teeth slowly pull over it. His eyes watch me and I know he's got the same hunger. The addiction that only his cock in my pussy is ever going to sate.
Harlan
I wake up, instantly realizing that there's something missing.
No, someone is missing. I reach and pat the bed beside me—empty and cold. I finally force my eyes open and roll over to scan the room for Becca when I see...
Pink, frilly shit everywhere?
What the hell?
I jackknife into a sitting position, rubbing my eyes hard with the palms of my hands, and then reopen them.
I blink twice.
Nope, still pink everywhere. And, I swear to god this is true, a pink stuffed bunny rabbit.
I’m so disoriented, I start to wonder if I took acid before falling asleep. It looks like my room, but...
“Oh, you’re awake!” Becca says, bustling into the room, her arms full of bags with pink and purple feathery shit spilling out of the tops of them. “I was wondering if you were going to sleep ‘til noon.” I glance at my alarm clock on the nightstand: 9:32. The sun probably just came up like five minutes ago. Not that I’ve ever been awake to see the sunrise, but shit...
I go back to staring at Becca again. Hold on, what is she doing?
I have no words as I watch her begin draping the feathery shit across the top of an entertainment stand, over a Harley Davidson framed photograph, and up to the window.
“Wha…”
I try, I really do. But at this point, I actually have no words. I’m not entirely sure I can speak.
She swags this shit across the top of the window, over some black leather curtains that are as old and dusty as my grandpa, and then stands back to admire the effect.
“A little more,” she says, and dives back into her bag o’ shit.
“What are you doing?” I finally get out, rather proud of myself for stringing four whole words together.
“Well, it seemed a little bland in here,” she says around grunts, as she continued futzing with the feathers, “so I pulled out some decorations that I’d lugged to my apartment with Tye but never got around to putting up. Can you believe he didn’t like pink feather boas?”
I look around my room, a desecration of the shrine that I’d erected to Harley-Davidson, and mutter “sh
ocking” underneath my breath.
“What?” she says absentmindedly, standing back to look at the window again and admire her handiwork.
“Nothing,” I say more loudly. “Just a frog in my throat.”
She nods, clearly not caring, and then goes back to her bag to pull out...
“Becca, you can’t put that up!” I protest. I don’t care how much I loved her pussy last night, it wasn’t that good.
She pauses in her task of hanging up a string of alternating pink and purple hearts around and over a metal sculpture of a Harley-Davidson 1967 motorcycle. “But Harlan,” she says seriously, “you haven’t seen them in action yet. Look!” She bends over and plugs them in. “They blink!”
The wad of lights begin to flash chaotically.
“No, no, no, no,” I say, swinging my legs out of bed. “Absolutely not.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll learn to love it. You’ve just been surrounded by black leather for so long, you actually started to think it was a fashion statement or something.” She leans over her bag and pulls out a stuffed teddy bear. Turquoise this time. Oh good. We have variety now. “Be a doll and put this on my side of the bed, will you? I’ve been missing sleeping with Schnokims for a while.”
I reflexively catch Schnokims as she tosses it to me and stare down at it in horror. Its cheerful grin mocks me.
“Becca!” I finally holler and she turns and looks at me. Really looks at me. Good! “I'm not going to have this—” I wave my arm wildly around the room, “—in my room!”
“You don’t think so, do you?” she says with a coy smile. “Well, I think I can convince you otherwise.” She strides over and pushes me back onto the bed before I realize what’s happening. As I’m falling backwards, I’m already justifying what’s happening in my mind. I was just taken by surprise is all. I mean, I’m a big, burly biker and she’s a tiny petite little thing. Obviously I’d be able to stand up to her…if I’d realized what she was going to do.
She pulls the blanket away from my dick and stares down at it with a happy sigh. “So much dick, so little time,” she says, and then dives down onto it.
I gasp with surprise as she wraps her warm, wet, amazing mouth around my morning wood and begins sucking enthusiastically. I relax into the bed with a whole-body groan. She feels so…amazing...
She begins to work her mouth up and down my cock with enthusiastic moans of her own, the vibrations traveling down my cock and through my body. Last night, sharing her with two other men was hot.
But having her focused 100% on me? This is fucking sexy.
She looks up at me with a naughty look in her eyes as she strokes me harder, faster, longer, and I feel myself beginning to reach the point of no return. I don’t want to cum yet, I don’t want to give up her warm, wet mouth on me, and then she reaches down and begins playing with my balls. Nothing more than rolling them around in the palm of her hand as she continues to stroke up and down my hard-as-nails dick and then my back arches and I cum with a shout, the world whiting out, my body as rigid as my cock and I’m shooting out ropes of cum, spilling down her face, down her body...
I eventually relax back onto the bed, my whole body hot with a happy fulfillment. She crawls up beside me and I cuddle her against me, feeling her amazing body warm against mine. She puts Schnokims onto my chest, wrapping her arm around it and me, and I decide that it’s okay to stay.
For now.
Becca
I lie back on the black leather couch with a happy grin on my face. Another day of being kidnapped, another day of no responsibility. This is a life I can get used to. My boss is stymied because I refuse to tell him where I’m at, saying that the gang is just too scary to allow me to say anything, and I had Harlan return the minivan in the middle of the night to the car rental place, shoving the keys down the return chute before heading back to the clubhouse.
I’ve turned off every piece of tracking technology in my phone so I can turn it back on and keep it on. I don’t want to completely lose track of the outside world, after all.
Truthfully, I had no idea it was so much fun to play hooky. No wonder Tye didn’t work for a month after he was fired. If every day meant just laying around, drinking, and laughing, I wouldn’t go to work ever again either.
Since I don’t have rent or utility payments anymore, I can live on my savings for a good long while. Just sit around here, use up some vacation time, and chillax. Something I’m not very good at doing, and that’s something I'm only just now discovering. I didn’t know I was wound so tight, until I started to unwind.
A small part of my brain says that I know I have to go to back to reality at some point, but that point isn’t today.
And that, plus the Piña Sunrise cocktails they’ve been feeding me, has me feeling pretty good.
I check my caller ID when my iPhone starts ringing and realize that it’s Rory. One of my closest friends, she’s probably wanting to know if we can go out for drinks or something. With a grin, I toss my phone to Dragon, who fumbles while catching it before finally righting it in his hands.
“Tell her I’ve been kidnapped,” I say in stage-whisper, pointing at the phone. He looks down at the phone and back up at me, and I nod encouragingly.
“He-hello,” he says hesitantly.
That’s not going to do. I mime a big burly man striding down the street, then point at my (non)-existent biceps. He nods.
“Yeah, you got Becca’s phone,” he says threateningly.
Much better.
I give him a huge grin and a thumbs up. He grins back at me and then barks into the phone, “Who’s asking? Rory? Well, Rory, your friend here has been kidnapped by the big, badass Black Fist. Yeah, that’s me, and about 50 other guys.”
Pause.
I can hear a small, scratchy voice coming out of the phone, but not loud enough to know what she’s saying. I lean forward, fascinated. I wish I was a fly on the wall of Rory’s apartment right now; she’s probably going ballistic.
She’ll think this is funny … someday.
“It ain’t my fault you never heard of the Black Fist.” I muffle a laugh into my pillow.
“Why’d we kidnap her?” His eyes shoot over to me, wide and panicked, and I hold up my fingers and rub them together in the universal sign for money. “For ransom, of course.”
More shouting.
“How much?” he repeats, staring at me. I hold up two fingers.
“Two million dollars,” he says triumphantly.
I’d meant $200,000, but sure, a cool two mil sounded even better. Damn, I have one hot ass. I spend a quick moment trying to think of who would actually pay two mil for me, but give up with a shrug. This story is going to be epic one day.
Ink comes back into the room with another Piña Sunrise in his hand, an umbrella floating on the top as instructed. These guys sure know how to follow orders. When I’d first asked for a Piña Sunrise, I just got a round of blank stares, but after some instructions, they finally got it down pat. I took a sip with a happy sigh, leaning back into the pillows.
Now this is the life.
“Can she meet you at the Russian Tea for drinks tomorrow?” Dragon repeats, staring at me for an answer. I hesitate for just a moment and then shrug. Sure. It’d be fun. Then I could bring her back here and the guys could all sit around and drool over her too. Her rack is even bigger than mine, so the guys will be happy to drool all over them.
“Yeah, she’ll meet you there at…”
I hold up five fingers.
“…five tomorrow,” he says.
Right then, Harlan bursts into the room and glares at me, glares at Dragon, and even glares at poor Ink, even though all he did was bring me a really tasty drink. I take another appreciative sip just as Harlan swipes the phone from Dragon and hits the end call button.
“Hey, what’re you doing?” I demand, and then he has the balls to slam my phone down on the desk, take my drink away from me, and drag me back to his bedroom, slamming the door behin
d us as we go.
Uh-oh…
Harlan
I lean against the door, crossing my arms and glaring at her. She glares right back. She probably has no idea what I’m even upset about but she doesn’t care. She’s ready to take me on anyway.
“Grow the fuck up,” I snap at her and she sucks in a deep lungful of air in shock.
She hisses, “What?”
“I said, grow the fuck up,” I repeat, enunciating every word carefully.
“Grow up? Grow up? Excuse me? I can’t believe—”
I cut her off with a snort. “Drop the surprise act with me, sister. I know you aren’t that stupid. There’s some part of you that realizes that you’re living in a fantasy world here. You’ve had such a fucked up life up to this point, you’re overcompensating for it. You’re escaping into this make-believe world of the Black Fist MC, where you can just sit around and have big ol’ bikers serve you hand and foot. I think you’ve started to believe that shit you read on your goddamn Kindle.”
“It isn’t…shit,” she gets out, her voice catching partway through and I search her face for tears, but if she’s fighting them back, she’s doing a damn good job of winning.
“Your Kindle stories are nothing but bullshit. You’ve decided that my MC is where you’re going to hide your head in the sand, but I say no. I can’t just pretend to kidnap you for the rest of your life!”
“You’re just jealous because you had to share me last night,” she shot back. “You’re probably not used to having to share your women like that, are you?”
She stares at me and I at her, and the air is thick with tension and anger and lust so thick, you could set a dick upright in it. At least, that’s the excuse I'm using as to why my dick is straining against the fly of my jeans.
She has a point about last night. Oh, I'm always up for a round of gangbanging the hanger-ons, but they didn’t matter. They were exchangeable, unforgettable, an object to be fucked and to bring pleasure to, but...