Three Hitmen: A Triple Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 2)

by Alice May Ball

  There was some movement, a furtive rustling and some wordless sounds of voices slipping out of the doorway. Jesska moved back into the shadows. She could have slid back into the club, but instinct told her to stay hidden.

  Two figures moved into the bushes. A girl with a blonde cascade knelt in front of a stocky biker. They murmured in the bushes, with occasional sparkles of giggle and some grunts.

  She jiggled her tits against his jeans and opened her shirt to let them out. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his cock, and she rubbed it between her tits. She heard her say, “I can see what’s coming up in the big news of this evening, lover. Tell me how it’s all going to go down later tonight.” Jess was sure that she recognized the accent.

  She couldn’t make out the man’s response, but she knew that she made him tell something as a price for his pleasure. His hips rocked and she rode her tits up and down on him until he started to groan. The two figures made Jess doubly frustrated, and hot as hell.

  Jess still couldn’t make out what he said, but he got an “Oo-oo,” and a giggle for it. Then she shoved his cock in her mouth and her head gobbled along the length of it.

  The biker’s hands gripped the girl’s head as his pelvis rocked back and forth, drawing his thick cock all the way into her mouth and back out again.

  He growled and groaned quietly as his movement lengthened and accelerated. He pulled the girl’s head deeper into his crotch. As he pressed his cock all the way into the girl’s mouth and tipped his head back, Jesska recognized Mace’s pointed beard.

  His hands gripped tight in the blonde curls as he shoved his hips at her face, stretching her red lips wide along his long, hard rail of flesh. He jerked her head into him hard as he rammed his pelvis into her. Gurgling wet gagging squeaks squeaked out of the girl’s throat. Jess wanted to tear herself away, but a mass of sensation at the tops of her thighs kept her rooted to the spot.

  Mace threw his head back and his knees bent and parted wider. He jammed his cock all the way into the girl’s mouth all the way, until her nose was squashed in the wiry bush of his pubes. His rasping grunt rolled as he gripped her hair and pummeled her face.

  Jesska caught her breath, her feet shifted and two heads turned to peer through the darkness towards her. With cum dripping from her mouth, Mary Ann looked directly into Jesska’s eyes.

  Jesska melted swiftly back into the clubhouse.

  Looking around for Bear, Jesska reached the middle of the packed bar when Mary Ann’s hand fell onto her shoulder and spun her around. The smoky stench of salty cum was on Mary Ann’s breath as she said, “You sneaking around now? Looking to spy on me?” Her eyes were red and wild. Her breath was thick and her fingers clenched.

  “Look, I’m…” Before Jesska could get a sentence out, Mary Ann lashed at her face with her nails. Jess instinctively rocked back and Mary Ann’s other hand grabbed at her hair. Jesska had no skills or experience in brawling or in hand-to-hand combat.

  Tiffany had tried many times to get her to go along to the judo and karate classes she took, but it didn’t appeal to Jess, and she had doubted whether all that formal training would be any use in a real fight where there were no rules. As Mary Ann yanked on Jess’ hair, she yelled, “you bitch, you going to get what’s coming to you now.”

  Jess remembered the idea of using the opponent’s weight and strength against them. With the best timing she could manage, she waited until Mary Ann pulled hard, then Jesska lunged towards her. Mary Ann shrieked as she went backwards and down to the floor. She landed on her back with a crack, and Jess was on top and astride her.

  Mary Ann yanked at Jess’ hair and her other hand flailed for something to use as a weapon. Her arm with the Queen of Hearts tattoo reached in a wild arc. Her knees came up at Jess’ back, but Jess had her hips pinned. Jess grabbed Mary Ann’s hair and slammed her head against the floor. She noticed a bourbon bottle, lowered from somewhere into Mary Ann’s free hand.

  She didn’t have time to look up, but she was sure those were Bear’s boots stood by Mary Ann’s arm. As Mary Ann tried to swing the bottle, Jess reached for the girl’s wrist. They rolled and Jess was on her back. She forced the momentum to roll them over again.

  She jammed her knee between Mary Ann’s thighs and pulled the two of them back up to crouch in front of one another, Mary Ann’s hot, damp breath in Jesska’s face.

  Ryder was nearby. Jesska had an impression of a look of concern in his eyes. Was it for her or for Mary Ann? He moved to intervene but Bear put an arm in front of him. Others nodded approval and the word ‘Catfight’ hissed around the room.

  Breathing hard and with her eyes aflame, Mary Ann’s grip tightened in Jess’ hair, pulling her head up. The arm with the bottle drew back and Jess hit her on the nose with her closed fist. As the blonde head went back and Mary Ann’s chin came up, Jess got all the weight she could behind the heel of her hand and drove it at Mary Anne’s jaw.

  The girl’s head snapped back and she hit it on the wood floor as she fell. She let go of the bottle and it bounced to land by Jesska’s foot. Jess jumped down and straddled her again.

  Now what? Winning the fight in the MC clubhouse could be worse than losing. What would they expect her to do? The heavy bottle was in easy reach, but she didn’t want to kill or maim the stupid bitch.

  Mary Ann’s left hand shot at Jess’ face. Jess caught her wrist with her hand and stopped the long nails less than an inch from her cheek. By reflex, she hefted the neck of the bottle.

  Bear reached towards her but Ryder put a hand out in front of him.

  Ryder’s voice was deep and warm in Jess’ ear. “That’s probably enough now, little wildcat.”

  His hand on her shoulder reassured her and she got up, slowly. Mary Ann took longer to rise and Ryder watched as she stood close to Bear, leaning against the big barrel of his chest.

  Without taking her eyes off the blonde, Jess asked, “You know what this is really about, Ryder?”

  She heard the smirk in his voice as he said, “Ain’t it just a regular catfight? I figured you was scrapping over me.”

  “Ask her whose hose she was outside drinking from,” Jess hissed.

  Bear should have stopped Mary Ann. When she lunged at Jess, Ryder put a hand up, right in her face. “Don’t make me have to stop you, Mary Ann.”

  Her voice was hard as glass, “This is between me and that saddle whore.” Bear held her back, but the look on his face suggested that he might let her go at any second. Jess wondered why Bear had been so quick to take her side.

  Ryder spoke quietly, “Seems like you might explain about the one person I see conspicuously absent from in this room right now, Mary Ann.”

  Quiet dropped over the noisy room like a sheet, like when someone says something perfectly wrong. The whole bar heard the door click and the clunk of Mace’s boots as he stepped in from the back.

  An understanding passed from Ryder’s eyes to Bear’s, and the club noticed it. In the clink of a glass the atmosphere was back to normal, or it at least felt and sounded normal.

  The moment of tension had been so brief that when it passed it was like it had never happened. Mace showed no sign of having detected it as he returned to his place by the bar. He sounded perfectly relaxed when he told Gyro, “This beer got warm, bro. Bring me another.”

  Chapter 17

  Ryder led Jess to his room. She was still sore and breathing hard. Jess expected a pit with piles of stale pizza and staler underwear, and she was surprised. The room was sparse, neat and clean. The table and dresser were dark wood, old but in good shape. The bed was a wide double with a red wool throw. The couch and chair were simple and leather.

  Here was where she had wanted to be. The room itself was a whole lot of pleasant surprise. But now? She wasn’t sure. Her feelings still swung as if they hung on a rope. Jess sat on the side of the bed. Ryder leaned over her and his concern showed as he looked into her eyes. She looked back up, searching. “Are you okay?” he asked her. She bit
her bottom lip.

  “I have to do a thing later on, but you can stay in here if you’d like.”

  She touched his face, getting a thrill as her fingers dragged over his hard, bristly skin. Did he really care about her? He could be so hard to read.

  He said, “You don’t have to go back into the clubhouse yet.”

  Her cheeks prickled hot, “I’m not afraid of Mary Ann,” she said, “I can go back and finish that any time.” He looked at her anew. She said, “I’d just rather be with you.”

  The fight had her blood racing, and it was racing still. She saw how Mary Ann was tough, and she was mean, too, but Jess was sure that she was stronger and faster.

  He said, “Mary Ann was doing something for Bear. And for me.” She hated hearing that bitch’s name on his lips. She wanted to slap him. She hated even more learning that Ryder was involved in any kind of a scheme with her.

  When her face flushed and he saw it, that amused little-boy grin started to play at the corners of his mouth. Now she couldn’t help herself. Her open hand struck across his face. Four red marks faded quickly up and slowly down on his cheek like a traffic light.

  He held her tight by her wrist. “Should I tie you down?” Her eyes blazed as she struggled but he pressed towards her. His size and strength overwhelmed her. She resisted as he pushed her down. His eyes flashed.

  She saw the light of amusement in his face and her teeth bared. Her other hand shot up to slap him but he caught her arm. Now he held both of her wrists. She shook and glared in his face.

  His knee was between her thighs. She slung her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. A mischievous smile lit his eyes. In fury she jerked her legs, crossed them behind his back and dug him with her heels.

  His voice was slow, “I wonder if I shouldn’t turn you over and spank you. Should I? Fighting in the playground… tsk, tsk…” She lunged at him with her teeth, but he held her wrists too tight and she snapped at the air in front of his nose.

  He said, “Wish I’d known you got this way when you get mad.”

  “Why,” her voice was deep and rasping, “So you could have steered clearer? So you could have spent your time with that little whore?”

  “No,” he was quiet. Firm. “I would have made you mad sooner. You're sexy as hell like this.”

  She squeezed her legs around him and kicked back with her heels. She struggled with her arms against him with all of her strength, and her fingers clawed the air.

  “Look, I really want to hold you down until you get too tired to fight,” he said, his grin growing as he watched her body buck against him. She hung by her legs off his waist, held down by her wrists. She struggled with all the strength she had and the more amused he looked, the hotter her anger grew.

  Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open. Her lips tensed and curled. His lip twitched as he watched her. His mouth seized upon hers.

  He pinned her to the bed and his lips possessed hers. Her arms shook against his grip and her legs thrashed along his hard torso. She squeezed with her thighs as his denim scraped her wet panties.

  His hands took her face, held her and squeezed her cheeks as his tongue invaded her. The weight of his body pressed her down. His hips pushed against the heat between her thighs. She felt the hard swelling inside his pants rasp through the hot, flimsy fabric against her soaking petals.

  Her free hand grabbed his hair, pulled to get him off. A voice in her head told her she must resist. All of her body clenched and ached. Resist, resist, fight back. She tugged on his hair. It did nothing. Fight, the harder the better. He pressed harder against her, into her. Struggle, as long as he wins.

  Shocks of unchained sensation made her back arch and strain while her treacherous legs pulled him hard to her opening wet need. Her swollen folds rubbed, pressed to reach his hot stiffening ram. She tried to bite his lips.

  He gripped a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Her eyes were wild and her tongue flicked around her reddening lips. As soon as his other hand let go of her arm, she beat on his back with the side of her fist.

  He opened his jeans. She felt the heat of his hard flesh. The heavy girth of his fat rod flattened her weeping petals and the base of her zinging buried trigger. Her hands clawed his shirt. The hot skin behind the dark, downy fuzz at the base of his stomach pushed against her.

  His hand slid up the bottom of her thigh. She squeezed and kicked. His face looked like he was considering a complicated ice cream, chocolate, and cake dessert, and couldn’t decide where to start. She slapped him. It had little impact. She had no room to swing. She did it again.

  Her panties made a raw sound as he tore them in one move. The cool air shocked her. His hot flesh pulsed against her wet pussy. She slid her hips as tight as she could against him and dragged her lips along his length. Her breath caught in a gasp. She found the end. She had the slick, hard head of him.

  His musky scent filled her nostrils. She gripped his hair. Her eyes blazed into his. His bulb was at the hot pulsing mouth of her dripping wet sex. Through her gritted teeth she snarled, “Fuck me, you bastard. Fuck me.”

  He held her still. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Oh,” he said slowly, “you want to be fucked, do you?” She yanked on his hair and squeezed her pussy against his cock. “You want me to fuck you, little girl?”

  She beat her fists on his back and his head. He lifted her by her back and flipped her over like a steak on a griddle. “You should have said.” Her face and arms were on the bed, her ass raised high in the air. He stood behind her. He slapped her ass cheeks. She convulsed and shouted. He grabbed her hips and his cock was at the clenching lips of her pussy again.

  A roaring moan ripped out of her throat as he rammed into her. His hard, ridged weapon stretched her. Her juices slathered over the length of him as her soft walls closed around him. She buried her face in the red wool throw. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

  He wanted to see her. He wanted to watch her sob and moan as he slammed his cock into her. He wanted to make her walls all fall like sandcastles in a tide. He wanted to make her beg.

  “Fuck me! Fuck me!” Her voice was hoarse and as sore as her aching clit. Her back arched and her toes curled tight. Her fingers groped blindly at the woolen throw.

  A dam broke inside her, and pools, rivers, seas of ancient emotion crashed over her. Starbursts of previously unreleased emotion washed through her.

  His cock stretched her, filling her to perfection. It heated and charged her. It pulsed and swelled in her as she yelled his name. He blasted bolts of hot juice into herwide-open core. She bit her arm and her eyes screwed tight as she came with him.

  Chapter 18

  In the quiet desert dusk, Bear, Ryder, and the handpicked crew crouched while darkness stretched over the unearthly dustbowl of Sulfur Lake, flattening everything in a pale blue wash. The bikers waited, hunched by their cycles in a wide, shallow trench to watch the far horizon. If Ryder had calculated right, they and their bikes should be just about impossible to see from the direction he expected the Skulls would be coming.

  A faraway rumble grew and a sweep of bike headlamps came up in a cloud of dust over the distant ridge. A black van rocked along in the middle of the group.

  Bear kept his voice low. “Why do they need a dozen riders to protect something that they’re bringing to hand over?”

  Ryder said, “They don’t. Those riders aren’t for protection. Watch. They’ll probably fan out wide quite soon.”

  They did. Bear frowned. “What the hell are they doing?”

  “They’re the floorshow. They’re to entertain us, and to keep us looking that way.”

  “But we are looking that way.”

  “We are.”