by Deja Voss
There’s a knock on the door, and she smiles through her tears.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“I’m starving. But I’m still mad at you. You and Gavin were total assholes to me at the meeting the other night.”
“First of all, I was not. I didn’t say a fucking word, which was damn near impossible because I thought I was going to crack up the whole time watching Gavin try and pretend like he knows how to be mean. Second of all, it was all for show, and you know it. How else do you think we can keep Moses under control while we get this sorted out? You know how much he loves when you guys fight.”
“I don’t like surprises,” she scolds.
“You sure?” I ask.
I let the room service guy in and he wheels in a cart with our food. In the middle is a giant slice of chocolate cake with a huge scoop of ice cream on top.
“You’re fucking cheesy,” she says, shaking her head. I hand her a spoon.
“And you’re fucking easy.”
21
Esther:
It’s sweet that he wants to protect me. I’ll give him that. I know that him and Gavin have been looking for a way to take back the power of the club from my dad and give the Misfits a fresh start, but something about this isn’t sitting right with me.
We sprawl out on the king-sized bed, stuffing our faces and flipping through the channels. I guess if nobody’s gonna be seeing my naked body tomorrow, I don’t really have to worry about the chocolate cake baby that I know I’m going to be rocking once I’m through.
We haven’t talked at all since our hookup, and obviously things were made awkward by the fact that this weekend was looming overhead, but right now, I feel like I have my friend back. A friend who looks sexy as fuck in jeans and a black t-shirt, laying here on the bed with me, making me laugh while I drown my sorrows in ketchup.
I clean up the plates, putting them back on the tray, and I can tell he’s watching my every move. I can feel the gaze of those gorgeous blue eyes of his burning a hole in my bathrobe, and I don’t exactly hate it.
Hell, just the way he swung open the door to my hotel room with that take no prisoners attitude he has was enough to make me wet. I had to lock myself in the bathroom for fear I’d just hate-fuck him on the spot.
Maybe I still will. Now that I don’t have to worry about accommodating Salazar tomorrow, I suppose I have room for someone else. I can tell by the way he’s smiling at me, he’s thinking the same thing.
“You good now?” he asks, biting his lip, making those fuck me eyes as he sits up on the bed.
“I don’t know if I want to be good,” I say, straddling his lap. “I’m finding out that being bad has proven to be a lot more fun. Stealing wallets, blackmailing people; hell, I just threw a temper tantrum and got chocolate cake in return.”
“You know you don’t have to go through all that effort with me,” he says as he begins to slowly trace his fingers down the sides of my neck, pulling my robe off of my shoulders. “I know a million ways to make you feel like a bad girl. You don’t even have to try.”
He brings his lips to my collarbone, slowly dragging his teeth to my shoulder, and I throw my head back and groan.
“You know how hard it was driving here today with a full-blown boner because I knew I’d get to spend the whole night alone with you in a hotel room?” He tugs on the tie of my robe, slowly undoing it while he looks into my eyes.
“Little cocky, aren’t ya? How’d you know I’d even let you in?”*
“Little cocky, huh?” He laughs. “At least you can pretend. For my ego.”
He pulls my robe down off over my shoulders, exposing my bare breasts, and I’m sitting there on top of his lap in nothing but a pair of polka-dotted boy shorts, which I’m sure are drenched all the way through. I’ll never get over the way he looks at my body so adoringly, like seeing me naked is a gift. It’s cute.
Cute because I know what comes next. When his gaze turns from adoring to commanding, when that sexy and scary switch inside him flips, and the wild mountain man bad boy biker comes out of hiding. I feel his dick pressing through his jeans, poking into the back of my leg. He rolls me over onto my back and I yank on the hem of his shirt, pulling it up over his head, exposing his perfect chest, his ink, those light blond hairs that only reaffirm to me how manly he really is.
How lucky I really am that this man is kissing my breasts, pressing them together as he alternates between each of my nipples, drawing them into hard peaks as I squirm underneath him. How lucky I am as he kisses down my stomach, sending shivers down my spine with his hot breath slowly teasing my sensitive skin. He roughly grabs the elastic of my panties, sliding them down my thighs, his mouth never leaving my body.
Kissing down, slower.
Kissing down lower. My toes curl, and he spreads my legs wider and wider, so that my glistening mound is only centimeters from his face. He smiles up at me and winks. His beard grazes my trembling thighs as he kisses all around my needy pussy. My hips, the tops of my thighs, I’m about to lose it with this endless tease.
I wrap my legs around him, urging him to give me what I want. When his tongue hits my slit, I nearly fly off the bed. His mouth feels so good, expertly parting my folds, drawing lines up and down from my clit to my crack, swirling his tongue over every sacred spot between my legs.
I know with him the more patience I have, the more worth it it is. As much as I want to grab him by the back of his long blond hair and guide him right to my clit, as much as I want to cum all over his face without any regard, I also know it’s in my favor to let him do his own thing. Let the climax come to me. We’ve been playing a waiting game our whole lives. What’s five more minutes of tease and torment.
He slides a finger inside my quivering pussy, circling my depths. My eyes roll back in my head, and I feel my walls clenching around him, begging for more.
“You taste so good, Esther. I could do this all night,” he growls, before darting his tongue over my sensitive nub.
“Brooks,” I moan, thrashing wildly. He uses his palm to pin me to the bed, to keep me here, to let me know exactly who’s in charge. He pulls out his finger and I feel him tracing it down my crack, circling the outside of my darkest, tightest spot. The place where no one has touched me before. My hard no place, even with the most impressive of clients.
“I’ve never…” is all I can muster. The sensation is so new, *not bad, but definitely foreign. Almost a little uncomfortable. I instinctively try to squeeze my legs shut but he doesn’t relent.
“You don’t have to play, girl,” he says. “I don’t care and you know it.”
“I’m serious,” I tell him. “It’s just a thing I guess.”
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “I want you to have it. I want to give it to you.” I mean it, too. Maybe our lives have gotten fucked up at some point, maybe because of things we had control over, maybe because of things that just had to happen. But if I know one thing, it’s that this was the man I wanted to lose my virginity to, and if this is the only one I have to offer him, it’s all his.
He grins up at me, a knowing look, and I run my fingers through his hair.
“I’ll be gentle,” he says.
“I don’t want gentle. I want you. I only want you.”
He brings his face back to my clit, his finger tapping around the base of my hole, slowly circling it, slowly writhing its way in as he laps away. I feel him enter me to his knuckle. It hurts a little, the pressure of something so unfamiliar.
“Relax,” he whispers, my thighs trembling. “You’re going to be ok.”
He slides the rest of the way in as he presses his tongue to my throbbing clit, and I feel like I’m being thrown from a cliff. Diving off the rocks into the water below for the first time. I’m cumming, I’m wailing, I’m higher than I’ve ever felt before, and he just keeps on pushing.
“Fuck me, Brooks,” I beg. I don’t care how or where; my brain is a puddle ri
ght now. “I need you inside me.”
He takes off his belt, slides down his jeans, his boxer briefs, I lick my lips at the sight of those gorgeous muscular thighs, that perfect cock pointing right at me, I want all of it inside me.
He scales my body, his rippled abs pressing into me, his cock lining up with my dripping pussy.
“I can’t last much longer. You’re so fucking perfect. So sexy and wet for me.”
He slides his cock into my aching pussy and I feel complete. Again, I shatter. Again, I lose it. Waves of orgasm rip through my body. Every time this man makes me cum it feels like the first time all over again. I can’t believe I let myself miss out on this for so long. Feeling his full girth stretching me, he thrusts in and out of me slowly, catching my moans in his mouth as he fills me with his tongue.
I feel his cock throbbing inside of me, and he thrusts deep, hard, pinning my hips under his as he unloads inside me, filling me with his seed.
I wipe the sweat from his brow and he rolls me on top of him, staying deep inside me, hugging me tight.
It feels so right, like this is the most natural thing in the world. Still, something is weighing heavy on my mind.
“Do you think I’m a shitty person if I let Morgan do this tomorrow?” I ask, catching my breath, my sweaty body shivering in the air-conditioned room. “Do you think she realizes what she’s getting into?”
“I don’t think you’re a shitty person, ever, Esther,” he says. “You could stab me in the face with a machete and I’d find a reason to apologize to you. And yes, she’s a grown woman; she knows exactly what she’s getting into.” He brushes my hair out of my face, kissing me on the forehead, cradling my chin in his hand.
“You were not a grown woman. And now you’re in way over your head. But you don’t have to be. Not anymore. I’m going to help you. We’re all going to help you. All us Misfits.”
“My dad…” I trail off.
“He’ll get it.” He shrugs, and I’m having trouble believing him. It sounds ridiculous, but right this moment, I’m ok with pretending.
“You need to go to her,” I say sadly. “You can’t stay here tonight. I want you to, but you can’t.”
“I promise I won’t touch her. You know that, right?”
“If you do, she’s useless to us tomorrow. Just like I am. And you know what that means?”
“We’re fucked?”
“No, you’re fucked. You’re gonna have to shave that beard of yours and get yourself a mini skirt.”
He tucks me in under my sheets, under the big warm comforter, and kisses my lips once again. “I love you, E,” he says.
“I know,” I nod. “I love you, Brooks. Now get out of here.”
Sending him off to a hotel room with another woman doesn’t feel good but it feels right. Nobody needs to know anything yet. Nobody needs to know that every time I think I can’t love him any more than I have, than I do, I suddenly feel like I’m falling deeper, harder. I feel like we’re in this together now. I feel like the little part of me he’s always had is growing bigger and bigger. I feel like I want to give him everything. That we’re going to be an amazing team.
As I hear the door close behind him, my mind goes to a place where I almost don’t dare to let it. A vision of the future. A future where he is the president of my club and I’m the queen. Taking down my family’s rein. Stepping right over my soft brother and my hellish father.
It makes me feel guilty to have these thoughts. It makes me feel like a bad person. But as long as they stay fantasies, they can’t hurt anyone.
Even though fantasies that come true aren’t proving to work out so bad for me, either.
22
Fifteen Years Ago
“She’s much prettier in person than she is in pictures,” the man with the gold canine teeth says as I enter the room. Something about the way that he’s looking at me is exactly what my dad warned me about. Exactly what he told me he was protecting me from by making me live with my Aunt Mary this summer. “Looks like she’s grown up a little bit over the summer, too.” he laughs, reaching out for my breasts.
My Aunt Mary slaps away his hand. “Touching isn’t free, you know?”
“I’ll give you five thousand,” a fat older man with a gray receding hairline quips. I can tell by the suit he’s wearing and his gold wristwatch that he has money. “I’m not really into redheads.”
“Then why are you here?” My aunt scowls. “You’re wasting everyone’s time. I wouldn’t let you lick my geriatric snatch for five thousand.” My dad is just standing in the corner, his hands in his pockets, watching as my Aunt Mary runs this fucked-up horror show. I don’t know much about the details, and I’m not going to lie, five thousand bucks sounds like a lot of money to me. Granted, I don’t know what virginities go for these days, but I can think of a lot of things someone can do with 5k.
I have to think like this. It’s the only thing keeping me from getting sick right here in front of everyone. I have to make these little jokes in my mind, or I’m afraid I’ll crack. I’m just doing right by my club. By my family. I’m sure all the guys would want it this way. They would do anything to protect me, and now it’s my turn to keep them safe.
“Ten thousand,” another man offers. He has an accent that I’ve never heard before. Maybe he’s Indian? I wonder if he’s a sheik or something. What would someone from a faraway land want with a plain old freckle-faced ginger, though?
“Twenty,” the bald fat man says. I almost want him to win, because I have a feeling he’s in no shape to be having sex anyway. He looks like he could have a heart attack at any minute. The sheik, I think I could get over that in my mind, convincing myself that maybe he will fall in love with me and make me a princess or something. I could live in a castle on the beach with all my friends instead of a mansion on the mountain.
The only guy who really scares me is the one with the gold teeth. The one with the teardrop tattoo and the 1 percent patch on his cut. I know what that means. It means he’s like my people. It means he’s as bad and scary as the men who I grew up with. He kind of reminds me of my father, the way that he’s doing nothing to disguise the fact that his smile isn’t a friendly one. It’s pure evil.
“I’ll give you a hundred thousand. Cash. But we leave tonight. And I’m sharing her with my men when I’m done with her.”
“Well, there isn’t a pussy on this planet worth a hundred thousand,” the fat man says, standing up. “I could fuck my way through the entire Playboy Mansion for the rest of my life on that kind of cash. If you’ll excuse me.”
He walks out of the room, not even looking at me as he rounds the corner. I kind of want to beg him to come back. I want to tell him that I choose him. The lesser of the evils.
“I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” the Indian man says. “While you’re a beautiful girl, Esther, and I’m sure you’re worth every penny, without documentation, I can’t make such a huge investment.”
“I’ll get you some documentation,” I stammer. I don’t know how, or what that even means, but dammit, I don’t want to be shared by this monster and his crew.
“Good luck to you,” he says, bowing to me. He leaves the kitchen.
My heart is racing.
“You got the cash?” my dad asks.
The man opens up his leather backpack, dumping a stack of bundled hundred-dollar bills on the kitchen table. “There’s even a little extra in there for granny. Finder’s fee.”
The way she’s rubbing his back like he’s her son, almost lovingly, makes me want to hurl. I should run away. I should scream. All I can do is blink.
“Let’s go, Esther. I can’t wait to see you up on that stage, dancing in our strip club. You’re gonna be a star, sweetie.” He stands up and grabs me by the shoulder, and his touch feels like it’s burning a hole in my skin.
“She rides with me,” my father says.
“What, you wanna stick around and see the show or something, ya sick fuck? Come on,
I know you’re in a jam. What the hell do you care? One less mouth to feed. She’ll look really pretty with a Tiger’s tattoo across her hips.”
“I just need to have one last talk with her. You know, father to daughter. It’ll make me feel better.” This is starting to sound scarier by the minute. I’d rather die than wear another club’s logo on my body. I can’t believe my own family is doing this to me.
“Fine. Do what you gotta do to make it right with you and the man in the sky. But we leave now.” He stands up from the table and my Aunt Mary escorts him to the front door. I start crying, tears rolling down my cheeks, looking around the room for a knife that I can jam into my jugular. My father hugs me tight, but I just slap at his chest, his touch making me sick.
“It’s not every day that a plan comes together perfectly,” my Aunt Mary laughs. “Oh, Esther, quit with the hysterics.”
“I don’t wanna be a Tiger. Those guys are going to hurt me,” I cry.
“Honey, no they’re not,” my dad says. “This… this is all a show. Now don’t get me wrong; you might have to sleep with that man. You might have to get up on his stage and dance and pretend like you like it. But you’re just going to be the distraction.”
“The distraction?”
“We need Tiny and his men distracted while we infiltrate their clubhouse. Hopefully it won’t take longer than a day or two. I figured this is a win-win. We get you in there, we get paid, and we get the intel that we need.”
“So you’ve been setting this up for months now?” I stammer. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Years, Esther. This shit goes way back. Back before Tanner died. We’ve always known that you were going to save our club.”
“Can I have one of those?” I ask, pointing to the piles of cash on the table. “I think I want to buy a pony when all this is over.”
“Don’t you think you’re too old for a pony?” my dad asks me. “Wouldn’t you rather have a motorcycle?”
“Really?” I ask. He told me my whole life that it wasn’t proper for me to have one. He told me that only the boys should drive and that girls belonged in the back.
