by V. Theia
He liked the strength and power of fucking a man.
And he enjoyed the softness of a woman’s body undulating like a serpent under him.
Sometimes, when the fancy took him, he liked both at the same time.
Now that’s what he called an enjoyable picnic.
Staring into the eyes in front of him, Penn refused to back down from the obvious intimidation. He also saw arousal looking back at him.
He was not a stupid maggot who didn’t recognize when a person wanted a piece of him. In his eighteen years, he’d lived several lifetimes already, he was no dummy. So he stared back.
Feeling the tickle in his throat.
Fear and something else.
Lust.
Yeah, it was lust.
Maybe this guy was going to kill him for stealing.
Penn had heard worse stories.
No one messed with Jay Benz and lived to gloat that tale.
He ran exports and he got his hands on anything he wanted.
If the stories were right, he didn’t deal in kids or the unwilling. Meaning he didn’t have a stable of bitches he farmed out for fucking. But he did own several strip clubs that Penn had been to a few times. By all accounts he took care of his girls very well.
“Gonna go on eye-fucking me, or can I go now?”
“Since you asked so polite. No. Take your thieving hands up to my table, I’ll be there in a minute.”
Penn turned but stopped with the sound of the rough voice. “You better hope I see you up there, because if I have to come and find you…” the threat unsaid.
Giving him an unbothered look, Penn took off through the crowd.
Everyone in Bar Helix knew Jay Benz’s table. He lorded over everyone like a king on the top floor.
When he got there, two heavies stopped him. “Your boss told me to come up.” They let him by after looking up and down and he threw himself down on one of the red bucket seats.
Money spoke loud in a place like this, he thought to himself, while he waited and eyed up the private waitress.
Benz took a seat a few minutes later, tossing a black overcoat on another chair. He faced Penn and stared across the table at him. “What’s your name?”
“Lawless.” Thinking he was so smart using Benz’s own accusation. He watched a smirk latch itself to the guy’s lips. “Cute. Now your real name.”
“Penn.”
“Penn what?”
“Just Penn.”
“Well, just Penn. I’m sure you realize the error of your ways this evening by trying to steal from me.”
“You walk around looking like that, you gotta expect people to try.”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t know why he was mouthing off to a man like Benz, other than he was itchy from the forceful scrutiny. Neither angry nor complacent, he couldn’t read him yet and that was …odd.
Penn thought he was good at studying people. Not that he got all those emotions they carried around to make them weak. But angles and ploys, he cottoned on to those very well.
Benz didn’t have a tell.
If he wanted to murder Penn, then it was gonna come as a fat surprise to him.
Benz gave the peppy waitress a drinks order and she scurried away, eager to do her masters bidding.
“Do you need money?”
“You offering?”
Benz laughed. “No.”
“Then I don’t need money. I was bored.”
Hands with long fingers and clean nails folded together on the table and the guy leaned forward. “You stole my wallet because of boredom?”
“That’s about it.”
“How old are you?”
“How old are you?” He countered as the girl put down two clear liquid glasses. Benz pushed one in front of Penn.
“Twenty-eight, and the fearless mouth on you, I’m guessing sixteen.”
“Sure, if that’s what you want to think. Are we done here? If you need to get your fellas to give me a good kicking, I’d prefer to get it out of the way now because I have shit to do.”
The chuckling didn’t put him at ease.
It wasn’t the violent hard cases that Penn knew to avoid. With those types of personalities you knew exactly what you were going to get.
It was the crazy fucks like Benz who didn’t need to break a vein to put his fear across. Men like him could laugh and still stick you with a knife.
“Age?”
“Eighteen.”
“Good,” the lust burned like acid rain clear across the table as he kept his eyes on Penn then took a slow sip of his drink. “Have a drink and tell me why you were so bored you thought it was okay to go for my wallet.”
Penn drew a breath and ignored the directive at first.
And then he started to talk.
Not even an hour later, Benz had enough information on him to be able to compile a folder as thick as his forearms.
In weeks to come, he’d learn that’s what the guy did. Collecting information like a squirrel.
Penn knew this because he was the one who started to help Benz as his right hand man.
They became formidable.
By the end of that night, Penn was in Benz’s bed. Learning how a man of power fucked. And he soaked up the lust and pleasure as well as the lessons a dangerous man could teach him.
Only Benz, from that day on, continued to call him Penn.
Everyone else in the city who now knew to associate him to the feared crime boss, called him Lawless.
FOUR
“Don’t put a leash on me, I’m not a fucking dog.” – Lawless
The morning he woke up on his first day in Chicago, Lawless did it by nailing Benz in his apartment bedroom. His cock growing heavier with the sounds coming out of the guy underneath him.
There was less maelstrom of commotion through his ear canal while he fucked.
So he fucked a lot.
He didn’t like being summoned anywhere like a dog and that’s what Benz had done by calling him to Chicago. He hadn’t seen the guy in months.
He took Benz by surprise by strolling into the apartment last night and shoving him face down. No matter their age or status difference, they matched up in size and Benz wheezed at being bested—probably a first, Lawless thought smugly as he tugged angrily at the belt holding the hard shaft at bay.
No one summoned him.
So he screwed Benz to gain some power back. Got stoned and did it again.
Benz only laughed and moaned through his climaxes and then did his own fucking.
Irritation arose easy in him. A by-product of his life and mindset of hating most people, he still came hard and long and then fell into a deep sleep.
Sex was like eating for Lawless.
Both a means to stay alive and a pleasure.
He sometimes gorged or went without for months. There was no middle ground. He either loved the act of sex or he was apathetic with it and no amount of naked meat parading around him roused his appetites.
“I think you missed me, Penn.” Benz claimed with a grunt and a roll of his hips so he could get at his own dick and give it a long pull. Lawless held him down by the back of the neck so the guy couldn’t move. It was something he’d learned from him.
He’d learned a lot since their first night in bed.
Most of all that the guy liked his sex dark and dangerous.
Asphyxiation.
Sex clubs, of which he owned several and now Lawless was a frequent client.
They’d screwed in groups, men and women together, sometimes more of one than the other. Benz liked to watch Lawless getting women off.
“Don’t rain your emotions on me,” Lawless warned. The pending climax started to touch the base of his spine and he increased the speed in which he moved. He was big so he knew it was hard for Benz to take him, he didn’t care.
The guy wanted to lie there and get fucked then Lawless would fuck. He took a hand from the back of Benz’s ne
ck and fisted his hair. As Lawless used his weight on him, Benz laughed. “You’re a cocksucker, you know that?”
When he was around Benz and their kind of people who had the same tastes and proclivities, Lawless felt normal in his own skin.
“Only when you beg,” both men grunted and spilled into their own climaxes.
It was electricity down Lawless’ spine and then it was over.
Once it was over he collapsed on the side of the bed.
Because he had an analytical mind, it was normal for him to put this latest sex in some kind of order in his head. Weighing against the last sex he had with that chick in the casino toilets. She was a solid 7 for dick sucking. But making a formidable man submit amused Lawless’ Johnson in ways that a hungry sucking mouth didn’t match up to. Benz got this round.
They were not exclusive.
They weren’t anything.
His skin crawled like the spiders he wore at the thought.
Lawless freelanced for him sometimes. They made a lot of money and chaos between them. They got high together and other times they fucked around.
Benz wanted more, that much was obvious. He gave Lawless a key to three of his penthouses. Even offered him a driver as though he was a fucking princess shopping at Prada. Lawless didn’t take anything he presented other than payment for work he’d earned.
“You got a haircut,” Benz remarked, running a flat palm against his shaved skull. Lawless pulled his head away, he wasn’t into being petted, he wasn’t a dog, no matter how much his momma said so. He couldn’t bark for one.
“You’re astute.” He rolled off the bed to clean up and dump the condom. When he came back wearing his boxer briefs, Benz was still naked in bed.
Lawless threw himself down in the armchair.
They might have shared a lot of body fluids, the man teaching Lawless what it was to get off on being a dominant. He knew nothing about sexual edging until one night when he thought he might go mad or kill Benz if he couldn’t come.
But there wasn’t much he knew about him other than his sexual antics.
Benz called himself bi-sexual.
Lawless didn’t put labels on himself. He’d have a body full if he did. He liked what he liked, end of story.
But as for Benz, he kept personal info on himself close to his chest.
“How did you get to where you are?”
“What’s this … the locked Penn finally interested to know me?” He smirked. Smoke plumed up to the ceiling. One arm behind his head, Jay looked across at him. “A king with friends is a dead king. He has followers, sycophants who adore without knowing him. Only then does a king thrive.”
“If you say I’m the sycophant in this equation, you better get ready for a punch.”
Jay snickered and there was a look of the real man beneath the smile.
He had the city terrified of crossing him.
He was a man who dressed polished. He tossed cash around like water and he hardly laid a hand on anyone unless he needed to. The city trembled under his feet.
Admirable.
Lawless was rarely impressed.
Jay might irritate him from time to time, but that was nothing personal, he didn’t enjoy being around people. So fucking needy with their begging bowls out seeking attention. So much want bleeding over his skin.
Violence was Lawless’ outlet.
Jay claimed, between Lawless’ brain and his strong stomach for gore, he could be unstoppable one day.
Unstoppable sounded perfect.
“So you’re the nastier dog in the junkyard, is that it?”
“Dog eat dog world, Penn. You get nowhere by rolling over for anyone. Unless it’s me telling you to get on your stomach,” Lawless chuffed a laugh and strolled to the bathroom to shower the smell of sex from his body.
He came out dressed to see one of Benz’s minions delivered food.
Jay stubbed out his smoke and rolled to his knees. Eyes lust filled. His cock thick and heavy stretched up toward his stomach. He grabbed it and rolled his palm up the big pipe. “Get over here, not done with you.”
Glancing up from the task of pushing his feet into the rigger boots, he arched an eyebrow. “I got mine, you got yours, what more do you need?”
Benz smirked. “Such a cold little shit, aren’t you?”
“Never professed to be warm. That file you wanted is on the hall table by the way. I’d watch it if you’re starting to dabble with the Irish.”
Striding naked to the trolley, Jay picked up a glass of juice, draining half before turning back to Lawless.
Unreadable.
Unpredictable.
Benz was a ticking bomb.
No one knew when he’d explode, only they knew he would.
Maybe that was the attraction. Danger was a drug to some. A risk worth the high.
“You can come and see them with me tomorrow, get a feel for this scary Irish,” he mocked. “I need you in town for a while anyway.”
Again with the orders. Lawless kept his mouth shut only because he always did what he wanted regardless.
“Let’s eat since I can’t have your cock again and then we’ll go out and have some fun tonight. Is there anything you fancy?”
Jay laid the sexually depraved world at Lawless feet. And like any kid handed the run of a candy store, Lawless went a little wild those first few years. Unhinged wasn’t his usual skin but he found himself agreeing to things he wouldn’t, under this man’s mentor.
There was a lot to be said about psychos.
They attracted their own kind.
FIVE
“Don’t cry because it’s over. Beg because it is.” - Lawless
Some days he still felt like that feral pup who took care of the stray cats and kids on the trailer park.
Always hungry.
Forever cautious and on the look-out for trouble coming for him.
But now he had enough money in his pocket, and the ability to go whenever he wanted to when the need hit to move on.
After that first trip to Chicago, Lawless never went back to Ohio.
He went with Jay on his travels for a while then got bored and headed East.
He’d been right about the Irish. He saved Jay a bucketload of money, plus kept him from being roasted on an open fire. He’d been right about the Mexicans too. This meant Jay paid Lawless more and that didn’t suck.
“Why are you always readin’?”
He didn’t bother shifting his eyes from the textbook over to one of Benz’s playthings. An innocent yet irritating tight gash who needed to concentrate on using her better assets instead of bothering him.
“Every time I come here, you’ve got your nose in some book or other. I mean, what’s up with that?”
“Teaching myself to read,” he said with each word dripping in sarcasm.
“Oh, for real? Wow, that’s eh…that’s pretty cool.”
Yeah, no. Went right over her bottle blonde Barbie head.
He’d half fucked that gash last night with Jay. Now he was wondering if he lost some of his IQ with the three minutes his dick was inside her. Bored of her manufactured porn star moans, he’d pulled his cock free and dumped the condom, leaving Jay to it.
Was it too much for horny meat to not act fake when she was taking two Johnsons?
The bitches Jay collected were lacking in manners.
“Go get yourself some food, Lou.” Instructed Jay, he handed the girl some money. She jumped up excited, kissed his cheek and raced off like a kid with her allowance. Lawless stopped his eyes from rolling and kept his gaze on his book. The same book Jay ripped out of his hand to look at. “How many college courses are you taking now?” He dropped the book on his lap.
At the last tally it was six. “A few.”
“Well fucking shelve it, Penn. We have places to go tonight.”
“Where?”
“Getting you your first legal drink, where else? I closed down Kitty Kat’s and we’re having a party for your birthday.”
Ah, his birthday. The day his momma spat him out and then forgot he even existed.
Yeah, it wasn’t a day he remembered.
“I don’t do birthdays.”
“You do now.” the order was clear and it didn’t sit well with Lawless. Jay had been doing it more and more over the last year and he’d told the guy he didn’t fucking like it. He wasn’t one of his gashes to bend and bow. He wasn’t one of the alley rats who worked for Jay selling and fetching, those who feared the crime boss.
To Lawless, the man was just Jay with a good cock and sometimes irritating personality traits. In one capacity or another, he’d been with him since he was eighteen. If he had it in him he might have felt some sentiment that the guy remembered his birthday every year.
“Dress in something decent and that means not those black things you choose to put on your body. You dress like a fucking biker.”
Lawless flipped him the finger and went back to reading about the three laws of physics.
The party that night happened whether he wanted it or not.
It wasn’t bad. But by the end of the night, after countless lap dances, too much scotch and a blowjob from a redheaded stripper with a mouth like a vacuum, he still ended up outside in the alleyway. Tempting a soaking wet stray cat to come and eat some thin sliced chicken out of his hand.
“What the fuck is it with you and strays? You’re like the pied piper.” He heard behind him. He didn’t move from his crouch position, but the ginger cat took off. Probably sensing Jay had a gun and would likely shoot if the cat meowed wrong.
Lawless rose to his full height, irritation dancing down his spine. Dusting off his hands he rubbed one over his shaved head, brushing the drops of misted rain away.
“Animals make you work for their affection. They’re not supplicating pieces of gristle, saturating the air with neediness.”
Shoving both hands in his bomber jacket pockets, he tried to walk around Benz and didn’t get far when the guy put a hand on his chest. The darkness of his shrewd eyes glowed under the moon. No one looking at Jay would ever mistake him for a good man. Just days ago he’d watched bored as he’d put the hurt on a drug dealer trying to outsell the crime boss. It was a warning to anyone who tried to best the kingpin.
