Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  The voice in my ear immediately makes me stop fighting, and he lets me go. I turn to see Ryker, his eyes blazing with anger in the streetlight. “Ryker!”

  His hands tighten on my arms, and he looks around before dragging me toward an apartment building, shoving me inside one of the first-floor apartments. There’s a girl there who doesn’t look as surprised as she should be when Ryker brings me in. I don’t know who she is or why I’m feeling it, but I can’t help but feel a surge of jealousy. “Go tell Marcus I found her. Tell him I’ll bring her back in a little bit.”

  “I ain’t got a phone, Ryker,” the girl says, throwing up her hands when Ryker gives her a glare that could melt steel. “Fine. I’ll walk over.”

  The girl gets up and disappears. Ryker doesn’t say a word until she leaves and then turns to me, his eyes still blazing. “Now . . . what the fuck were you doing?”

  “Ryker, I’m sorry . . . please, I heard what you told Marcus. Jacob’s hiring hitmen to try and get you. I had to get away. There’s no way you can fight his money and power. I just . . . I want to live again!” I babble. I’m sure I’m repeating myself, and tears are flowing down my face as Ryker takes me in his arms and kisses me again, a habit for shutting me up that I’m quickly finding I’m not all that opposed to.

  “I’m not letting you free just yet,” Ryker says. “Sarah, you don’t know this city. You were just about to cross over from my territory to an area controlled by a group still affiliated with Jacob.”

  “Ryker, just call Jacob. Say you killed me or something. He won’t care. He’s still going to want to fight, and I can—”

  “No,” Ryker says, his tone cutting me off. “You will have a future, Sarah. When I kill him. Then you can go wherever you want. You’ll be rich, even.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, and Ryker chuckles.

  “Who do you think gets his estate when I kill him?” Ryker asks. “You can go anywhere you want. Be anything you want. You’ll be free. Even if the fucker didn’t leave it to you, I’ll make sure it happens.”

  I shouldn’t believe him. He’s a criminal too, and other than giving me little bits of freedom and the best fuck of my life, I’ve been just as much his prisoner as I ever was with Jacob. But . . . looking up into his eyes, I want to believe him. “Promise?”

  Ryker nods. “Promise. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to take your pain away.”

  There’s something in his eyes that says he’s telling me the truth, and when he leans in to kiss me, I kiss him back, wrapping my arms around his neck and tasting his honesty in his lips and his tongue.

  We pull at each other’s clothes, making our way to the couch where Ryker pulls me on top of him, straddling his waist while his lips make their way down my throat and over my collarbones. I tense at first when his hands trace my scar again, but then the warmth of his touch seeps through the self-consciousness, and I look down into his face, stroking his hair. “When I’m with you, I’m not afraid.”

  “And you’ll never have to be,” Ryker says, raising his head. His tongue traces over my skin, the touch making me forget all my worries. I feel his cock swell and stiffen underneath me and I start riding him, rubbing my still panty-covered mound against the thick bulge in his pants. “Mmm… slowly, beautiful.”

  “Say it again,” I gasp, pulling his head against my chest as his tongue circles around my right nipple, teasing me and sending fireworks through me. “Please, Ryker, say it again.”

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs before he wraps his lips around my nipple and sucks, making me gasp and cry out softly. We’re in a flea trap of an apartment, but I don’t care. This is better than any luxury setting as Ryker’s hands and lips weave patterns of pleasure and heat over my body. Grinding against him, my pussy is soaked, and I let myself be swept away in his arms, standing up just long enough to let him slide my pants and panties off. He’s sitting in front of me, and I feel vulnerable but somehow safe as he leans forward and kisses my belly button, making me giggle. “Ticklish?”

  “A little,” I tease, running my fingers through his hair. “Why did fate make me waste years with him?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Ryker says, leaning in again and kissing my waist. “We have now.”

  Heated trepidation sweeps through me as Ryker gets off the couch, kneeling on the floor to give himself better access as I naturally spread my legs. His lips travel lower and lower until I can feel his breath on my pussy lips and his hands holding my ass tenderly. His tongue caresses my pussy, and it’s like heaven, sliding through my slick folds, nibbling and lapping at me, tasting me and swallowing me with eager sounds of pleasure. It’s so good that I have to put my hands on his shoulders just to keep myself from falling over. But Ryker’s strong arms give me a sort of saddle to sit in as he devours me.

  Ryker’s tongue flickers over my clit and I cry out, tears of ecstasy rolling down my cheeks as untold new pleasure rolls through my body and I grind against his eager lips and tongue, Ryker not stopping until I’m trembling on the edge of coming. With a single lick, he shatters me, my body carried away as my knees unlock and I sink down. He lowers me slowly, and I feel the heat of his cock pressing against the entrance to my pussy.

  Ryker twists us so that he can lie back on the carpet while I sink down onto him. There’s none of the pain of being stretched open like last time, just one glorious feeling of being filled, of being joined with someone who wants me as me. “And that . . . fuck, you’re perfect.”

  I ride him, his words giving me even more encouragement, sliding my hips back and forth and letting his cock fill me again and again. I want to go slow, but after coming so hard from his tongue, I’m greedy, voracious for more of Ryker, and my hips take over, riding him hard and fast, squeezing him and dangling my breasts over his face. He’s more than happy to feast on me, his lips finding my left nipple and sucking hard, devouring me and sending my brain whirling.

  It’s forever and it’s an instant, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of me making time simultaneously stand still and whirl by. Still, I’ve never felt better than I do in Ryker’s arms, and another orgasm builds within me, this one bigger but more tender, it seems. “Ryker . . . help me . . .”

  He plants his feet, his hips jackhammering upward, driving his long, thick cock into my pussy as I find his lips again and we kiss, both of us moaning as the feelings wash over us. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of my ass as he reaches his climax, and he’s moaning, his cock erupting deep inside me and pushing me over the edge, my own orgasm filling my body with not just pleasure but the warm light of something that I’ve never felt before. When it passes, I stay on top of him. I want to draw out this moment of perfection as long as possible.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, kissing him again. “For making me a woman again.”

  “I swear I will make sure you’re protected,” Ryker says, looking up into my eyes. “I only wish—”

  The door to the apartment bursts open, and both of us turn to see Marcus with about four other men and the girl from the apartment. Marcus’s eyes open wide, and he turns quickly, but not before a couple of people in the hallway see us. “Oh, shit! Sorry!”

  The door closes, and I can’t help it, the ridiculousness of the whole thing makes me laugh. “Sorry?”

  “He’s my brother. What am I going to do?” Ryker asks, looking over at the clock. “Oh, that’s why.”

  “Why?” I ask, then look over at the clock. “Fuck, how long were we…?”

  “About an hour and a half. He probably got antsy, thought maybe we got in trouble. Come on, let’s get dressed,” Ryker says, pausing to give me a deep look. I slip off him and get dressed as quickly as I can while he pulls his shirt back on and adjusts his pants. When Marcus knocks softly a minute later, we’re decent, and Ryker opens the door, looking at his brother and the girl from the apartment, who’s wearing a bemused and outraged expression on her face. “Sorry to worry you guys.”

  Out in the street, the
other men look at me differently, but then again, I guess you always look at a woman differently after you’ve seen her naked and impaled on a cock. Ryker ignores them though, talking to his brother. “Take Sarah back to the safe house, and you stay by her side until I get back.”

  “I got it,” Marcus says, the two brothers embracing. “You sure about this?”

  “Damn sure,” Ryker says. “It ends tonight.”

  Ryker turns to walk away, and I go to call him but realize he doesn’t need the distraction. Suddenly, he stops and turns, coming over to me and kissing me, pulling me into his arms and holding me close before letting me go, cupping my chin again. “For luck. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  He turns and rushes off into the darkness, and I watch him for as long as possible before Marcus puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Come on. These streets aren’t safe right now.”

  Chapter 13

  Ryker

  Everything I’ve studied and practiced and done over the past five years is telling me that what I’m doing is stupid. That I need to take a few days to let him sweat, to make him start to relax his guard. Maybe even to let a little paranoia set in. Or that maybe I should’ve just taken Jacob out from day one.

  For all I know, Jacob could be sitting at his house, chilling out with a crew of a dozen men just waiting for me to show up.

  I should be doing anything other than what I’m doing, which is crawling up the slope that surrounds the Waters’s mansion. For fuck’s sake, I don’t even have any guns with me, just a pair of double-edged fighting knives. I should be hitting this house with every fucking thing I’ve got. Instead, I’m crawling up this slope like some ninja out of the movies. And why? First, because I want to feel Jacob Waters’s blood on my hands, and a pistol’s too quick for him. Secondly, and more practically, because if I shoot, that’s going to bring every single man Jacob’s got in the area right on top of me. If I want to make it back to Sarah, I need to do this quietly.

  I slide up another two feet, pausing to listen if I’ve been detected. I check my watch. I’ve been crawling up this slope for nearly an hour, and it’s getting close to three in the morning. It’s the ideal time for this crazy fucking idea of mine, the time when any guards are going to be sleepy and everyone should be more or less not alert.

  I crest the slope and get behind the brick retaining wall that forms the outer edge of the lawn at the Waters estate, looking carefully through the gaps in the design. There’s no movement, none, but I keep watch. If I am going to survive this, not only is my reputation assured, but this is going to be over. On the other hand, if I’m going to survive this, I need to be smart.

  I watch for ten minutes, looking for any sign of movement at all, and there’s none. Still, the last report Marcus fed me told me that Jacob Waters was sighted going into his mansion around midnight and his driver pulled away twenty minutes later.

  I cross the lawn and go to the back door, trying it and finding it locked. Not a problem. I didn’t get to where I am without learning a few things about picking locks, and this one’s a piece of cake. Jacob’s always had a reputation that matters more than any lock for keeping his house secure.

  Creeping through the dark house is weird. I keep wondering if this room or that was a place where Jacob did terrible things to Sarah. The feeling only increases when I see a dark shape laid out on the floor in the dining room. I approach carefully, kneeling and turning on a pen light, horrified when the blank, dead eyes of a blonde girl look back up at me, her face a puffy wreck and her throat cut ear to ear. “Sweet Jesus.”

  “She tried to say no,” a now familiar voice says behind me. I turn, staying low as Jacob Waters comes in, a short samurai sword in his right hand, the edge dark with what I know is this girl’s blood. He’s limping a little from where Marcus shot him in the ass, but not all that much. “Nobody says no to me.”

  “Didn’t think you’d be up,” I comment, trying to buy time. “Night owl?”

  “Something like that,” Jacob says, swinging the sword. I may be half his age, but he’s got a fucking big ass sword and he’s fast. I barely roll out of the way of the first blow, gaining a little distance and getting to my feet, pulling both of my knives, reversing the one in my left hand to protect myself.

  “Nice knives,” Jacob says, adjusting his grip and taking a trained stance. I hope it’s just something he saw in movies. I mean who the fuck studies sword fighting nowadays? “I have a similar pair in my study.”

  “Why not go get them, make this even?” I grunt, keeping my eyes not on the glittering tip of the sword but his wrists. “Then again, you’re the kind who doesn’t play fair.”

  “Says the guy who stole my wife and tries to use her as a human shield,” Waters says, thrusting his sword forward on the final word. I see it coming and I duck, slicing the side and back of his right leg before momentum carries us apart again, Waters groaning in pain and starting to limp even more.

  He swings his blade in small X shapes that force me to retreat out of the dining room and into the hallway. Here, I can’t go around his blade, and I back up more, trying to draw him into another big space. “You’re not a man, Jacob. You’re not even an animal.”

  “What the fuck do I care?” Waters asks, grinning. “So long as they fear me.”

  “They’re going to fear me in the future,” I reply, stepping into what feels like the main foyer of the house. It’s huge, with a marble staircase that curves up and around, and I know I must end this here. “Just like she’s going to be mine after this.”

  “She’s mine,” Waters says, his breath coming in shallow gasps. Maybe I hit a vein, or maybe he’s just not in very good shape, but he’s tired already, the tip of his sword wavering in the dim moonlight coming through the windows.

  “Huh. She called out my name a lot over the past few days. Then again, she did say you’re a little . . . short in certain areas.”

  Waters roars, raising his sword over his head, and I take my chance, stepping in and slicing upward with my right hand, cutting him across both wrists deeply, his sword falling from his now useless hands to clatter to the marble. Meanwhile, my left hand brings my knife up to press into his throat. Waters tries to jerk his head back, but not in time as I draw my blade across, a fountain of blood spraying out to cover my arm. He sinks to his knees, staring up at me with rage and a total lack of understanding in his eyes.

  “If I were going for justice, I’d shoot you in the head right now like you shot my father,” I say, kicking him in the chest. He falls back, still trying to breathe but failing. “But I’m not a very just man.”

  I watch for another minute as Jacob Waters bleeds out, his blood pooling underneath him on the marble flooring. When he twitches his last, I take off, satisfied.

  I’m halfway down the hill when a car pulls up and someone gets out. “Jesus… what the hell happened to you?”

  It’s one of Waters’s men, but my face is so covered in blood that he doesn’t recognize me until I get closer, and by then, it’s too late as I jack him against the car, my knife at his throat. “There are two bodies up there. One of them is my work. The other was that fucker’s work. Put the word out. I’m the man in town now. I’m the new king.”

  The man nods shallowly, and I take my knife away long enough to let him start to relax before I grab his head and slam it into the roof of his car, knocking him out. His body drops to the pavement, and I check his pulse to make sure he’s okay.

  Having a witness like this makes things easier in some ways.

  Still, kinda sucks to not take his car. It’s a pretty long walk.

  Chapter 14

  Sarah

  For the first time, the warehouse feels crowded as nearly a dozen people sit around. They just got off shift protecting the neighborhood and protecting me, and while I should feel grateful to these ten men and two women, all I can think of is Ryker.

  I feel like an outsider. These people, they grew up in the streets. They grew up fighting, a
nd while trying to become a teen actress wasn’t exactly all fun and games, they’ve had a harder life than I’ve had.

  Even their language is different. When they throw around the street slang that the scriptwriters used to get me to try occasionally, they sound comfortable with it. They know exactly how to use it, what it means. They don’t look like they’re going to stumble over their own tongues.

  Still, the conversation is quiet, and as Marcus takes a seat next to me, he hands me a cup of coffee. “You know, you don’t need to be up yet. For sure, you don’t need to be sitting around here.”

  “Kinda lonely lying on the bed, and I couldn’t get back to sleep,” I whisper, looking down. I don’t know why I should be so emotional, but I am. After sleeping fitfully for only a few hours, I decided to get up. “They keep looking at me . . .”

  “It’s been a while,” Marcus says simply, sipping his coffee. “A lot of the crew is wondering about you.”

  “About what?” I ask, and one of the other people laughs.

  “We’re wondering if you really are Rygirl or not,” someone jokes, earning a few chuckles before an icy stare from Marcus shuts him up and people start to leave the office area. “Fuck, man, just making a joke.”

  “Would you say that if Ryker were here?” Marcus asks, and the man shakes his head. “Then get the fuck out.”

  The man closes the door behind him, and Marcus sits down, shaking his head in frustration. I’m totally confused, and I look at him. “Rygirl?”