Crown and Anchor Series: Book 1-4
Page 5
Taking his outstretched hand in mine, I smile, shaking it gently. “Circe. Nice to meet you, Wyatt.” The air is helping to clear my fogginess, but it’s not perfecting my awkward chick abilities. “What brings you here, Mr. Wyatt Crown?” I accentuate each word, dragging it across my tongue.
“I’m a racer.”
Faking shock, I suck in a breath. “Really? You don’t say. Are you any good?”
“I’m okay. I can make it around the track most days without breaking bones."
“So you’re average.”
“Most days. Somedays, I can be quite extraordinary.” He smirks, causing his dimples to peek out.
“Humble. I wouldn’t have guessed it.” Shit. That was snarky. I shouldn’t have said that. If I would have known this would be happening, I never would have had so much alcohol. Not to mention, the whole situation has my heart thumping against my chest, racing faster than Wyatt’s bikes. I could literally fall into a puddle of womanly arousal at his feet.
Remember, Circe, he was with two harlots a short while ago in his trailer.
Attempting to pull my hand back, I take a step away to lean against the railing. Gathering my thoughts, I remind myself I’m not the girl that falls at a guy’s feet, and I don’t crush over man sluts. Even one as adorable as him.
He still hasn’t released my hand. He strokes the back of it with his fingers, sending fireworks through my body.
"And what do you do, Circe? Are you a racer too?” His heated gaze stays focused on mine. If we keep this up, it could be very dangerous. The pink tinge in my cheeks has probably become a few shades darker, as my veins feel like they’re housing molten lava.
“Oh, no,” I rush out. “I’m an assistant, but I think that’s all going to pot at the end of the night. You see, after a very impromptu interview I had with a certain racer, I pissed off my boss’s boy toy.” I really have put my job on the line. I know if I want to stay employed, I need to take a step back.
“Really? Tell me about this interview,” he asks innocently, but it’s laced with sweet sarcasm.
Clearing my throat, I take my hand from his. Wandering around to the far edge of the porch, I take a moment to gaze out at the surf as it hits the shoreline. Turning back to him, seeing how the moonlight bounces off his crystal eyes, like twinkling lights, it becomes harder and harder to concentrate on the conversation. I want to strip him bare right here. Damn, I’m that wanton harlot I definitely didn’t want to be tonight. I should have sex more often, and not go so long without. Here’s the first man to touch me, and I’m ready to jump his shaft.
To keep from doing just that, I say, “Not one of those jackoffs were asking the right question.”
“What was the right question, Circe?” Like a predator, he slowly and methodically moves towards me, making me insecure and unsure about distancing him. Just like the prey I am, I back further along the railing.
“There was no reason to add to a stressful moment. It was a dick move by them.” My voice falls to barely a whisper as he approaches me. “It was callous and cruel, and quite frankly, it was unprofessional.”
He steps closer, bringing him within inches of my face. His breath is soft on my overheated skin as he dips his head to look in my eyes. His height, his powerful, sexy smell and strong presence is dragging me in. I can’t seem to stop myself from leaning in to his magnetic pull.
“I appreciate you defending my honor,” he jokes, running his fingers through my loose hanging hair.
Get a grip, Circe, I tell myself, even as I lean into his touch.
“In that position, who wouldn’t be in shock after something so scary?” I say.
Position.
He’d just been fucking two girls.
Two. Girls. Not even twenty-four hours ago!
Pushing against his chest, with a little bit of force, I do my best to distance us once more. “Well, I should really get back to make sure Carli has her room key.” Speaking only to keep my mouth busy is becoming hard. All I want to do is devour those soft kissable lips of his. But I can’t. I shouldn’t want that at all. Fucking drinks. This is my own bloody fault.
Well, sort of. If he wasn’t so goddamn beautiful, and someone I’ve fantasized about from afar, then I probably wouldn’t feel this way.
“Is that how you want to play this, Circe?” Cocking his head to the side, he looks almost shocked that I’ve denied him what he thought was a sure thing. “I know you’re attracted to me, so why deny yourself of all this?”
Pompous fucking asshole. “Wow. That humble guy act was short lived, huh,” I snap. Gathering the final thread of my decorum, I start towards the hall. “Have a nice night, Mr. Crown.”
WYATT
She turned me down?
I can’t fucking believe it. I have a hard cock and no one to release this tension with.
The once silent porch quickly starts to fill with other patrons looking to cool down from the interior warmth of the venue, and staying put will do me no good.
“Fuck this,” I say, reentering the room.
I need more. I need a release. I need to clear my head.
WYATT
Walking back through the venue, I see Circe conversing with her friend from earlier. By the expression on Circe’s face, I can tell the conversation isn’t going the way she had hoped. She looks lost, like she may be unsure about going back to their room. If I was a betting man, which I am, I would bet that her friend will be screaming in glee tonight because of the pair she’s engaged with, enjoying her evening. Too bad I didn’t find her attractive.
As Circe notices me enter, I smile knowingly at her. Yes, I could enjoy what we could do, and I know I could entice her to agree to a night with me. But, for some reason, her turning me down makes me want to work just as hard to get her into my bed. She’s intrigued me, and now she’s on my radar.
And though she intrigues me, I decide that chasing her down will get me nowhere tonight, so I change targets. Clearing out of the hall, I see the two girls from earlier today, watching me like I’m an all-night buffet in Vegas and they haven’t eaten in months. Walking with purpose, I venture towards them. They won’t turn me down after the adventure we had earlier, and that was vanilla for me.
“Ladies. How’s your evening?” Really, I don’t have to say anything at all. All I’d have to do is hold up a room key for them to join me for another round.
With them pawing at my suit jacket, I can almost smell their combined arousal. “Hello again, Casper. Are you bored?”
Grabbing me by my cock, the first woman’s eyes widen. “Well, I see we have our work cut out for us, Casper.” I’m flaccid as fuck for these two, but they’ll do. I’m sure I can get it up for them in no time.
“I hope you can live up to my standards tonight, ladies.”
“We’ll do our best,” the second one says, running her hands down my chest.
“I’m sure you will.” I begin walking away. Knowing they’ll follow, I set off towards my suite, exiting the hall.
“Wyatt.” I slow as I hear the derisive note of disgust in my mother’s voice.
Turning, I answer her with a tight grin. “Yes. How may I help you, Mother?”
“I’d hoped you’d stay here for a while longer. After all, you are the champion tonight that everyone wishes to impress.”
“Mother, these lovely ladies are looking to impress me as well.” Without giving her any further attention, I turn away and say over my shoulder, “I wish you a lovely evening.”
Turning back the way I was headed, exiting the hall for good, I know I’ll be hearing about that later on the plane, in the limo, or at the house. Fuck it, I don’t care. I’ve never done anything right in her eyes anyway, so why try to fix it now?
After a disinterested conversation with Mother Dearest, I catch up to the girls, but my cock really has lost all interest. Slinging an arm around each of their shoulders, they beam with delight. I know what they’re thinking. They’re anticipating more of what we had ear
lier, but they’re so wrong. They sucked my cock, I toyed with their pussies, and I had them get off on each other as I watched. That was vanilla first-timer sex. I have a desire for more than easy, sweet, taunting, manipulative sex. This darkness gripping me needs to be quenched.
“Casper, I need you…” The first blonde coos as her voice trails off. Pulling on the buttons of my shirt, she shoves me up against the wall. The second girl unbuckles my belt and pulls down my zipper. At this rate, I’ll be naked in the hallway, which really isn’t an issue. I don’t give a fuck about public displays; I never have.
With one having her hand up my shirt, the other weaving her way into my pants, my cock is in command of any and all entertainment now. Reaching under the skimpy dress of the first, I feel her wetness, and even though it starts me running, it doesn’t light the fire in my soul. I need the gritty, dirty shit that most won’t even attempt or think of in pleasant company. I’m far from pleasant.
“Which room is yours?” Girl two asks, tugging down on her flimsy tank top. It hardly holds the sheer lace bra in place that houses her tiny little tits. They’re almost not worth the bother. But that pussy? It was worth it. Well, to her friend it was.
The thing about these kinds of girls is that they can’t be trusted to keep their mouths shut. Yeah, I know I go off the rails and cross lines that I shouldn’t, but it’s their silence that I desire the most. I can’t always control how I go about my enjoyment, but if they talk later, I’m fucked. It has cost Crown a pretty penny on more than one occasion.
I try really hard to be the good son, the poster-perfect face of the new generation, but like a bike, there’s a link fucked in my chain. I’m fake.
I watch as sponsors, hoity-toity motherfuckers, and even some of the jealous racers eyeball our public display of dangerous liaisons. I don’t care. Sucking on girl one’s neck, I take in her intoxicating mixture of sexual arousal, the subtle hint of whatever sweet drink she’s had, and a heady flower perfume.
“Wow. I didn’t realize you were starving. It must be nice to have a buffet at your beck and call, Mr. Crown.” Her lilting voice tells me she’s pissed, and maybe a tad disappointed. She left me to my own devices. It’s not my fault she didn’t listen to her own body.
Pulling away from girl one—because really, who gives a fuck about their names—I address Circe Maco.
Before I can respond, she continues. “For the second time today. Damn, these girls must be fantastic in bed.”
Spinning on her tiny heels, Circe flicks her hair over her shoulder and starts to walk away from us. Over her shoulder, she calls out, “Have at him, girls. I turned him down tonight, so enjoy being someone’s last choice.”
“We were his firsts today. Where were you at the trailer?”
Stopping in her tracks, she turns and walks back. “I’m better than a quick fuck in a trailer, ladies. Get a grip on your self-esteem. Maybe pull up your panties and hold them in through your cunt.” Facing off against the two girls, I anticipate a catfight.
Fuck, I love those.
“You—you! You’re just jealous.” Girl one stutters, sounding ridiculous.
Staring directly at me, Circe shakes her head, then smirks. “I thought better of you, Mr. Crown, but my instincts served me well tonight. Have a lovely time with your hookers.”
And that’s when it all went to shit.
“Fuck you!” Girl two reaches out and grabs Circe by the hair. Circe pulls on her shirt and yanks her forward, causing her tiny tits to fly out of her top. She tilts on her spindly heels, and in a slow-motion action, collapses to the floor with Circe’s hair still tightly gripped.
Landing on top of her, Circe elbows her hard in the sternum before slapping her hard across the face. “No one attacks me, you stupid bitch.”
Not to be left out, girl one swings into action, flinging her heels off and moving into the fray. Circe’s at a disadvantage as it’s two on one, but I have a feeling she can hold her own.
Looking around the hall, I find others joining in to watch this entertaining display of girls gone wild in fancy attire. Leaning back against the wall, I cross my arms over my chest and smile at the destruction in progress. It’s not the first time I’ve watched girls lose their shit and argue over me, Whiskey, or any of the other racers, but I have to admit, it never gets old.
I’m so turned on right now, I could pull out my cock and stroke it over them in full view of everyone. But, instead, I reach into my pocket and stroke myself as I watch them.
“What the fuck is going on out here!”
Great, the fun governor has arrived. As Circe’s friend shows up with the two racers, Crass and Mahoney, in tow, I nod to them, and they repeat the greeting. They both join me by the wall and we watch as clothing tears, hair is pulled, and weak punches are thrown in a show of almost naked debauchery.
Without turning our sights from the entertainment, I ask, “How’s your night going?”
“Good. Yours?”
“Looking up now.”
We all laugh as we continue to watch the show.
Circe is still on top of girl one, whose outfit is practically ripped to shreds. Circe hauls off and hits her square in the face, causing blood to smear from an apparent broken nose, knocking her out immediately.
Circe’s friend has dragged number two away and is raining down hits like she’s Connor McGregor. Girl two tries to defend herself, but Circe’s friend has skills. I imagine there must have been times in her life that she’d pounded on someone else, or fought in a hardened way. The way she attacks is not your usual chick fight performance, and girl two, after a few more hits, falls limp on the floor, groaning in pain before she passes out.
“I’m calling it,” Crass announces as he fist bumps his friend. I knuckle bump them each and laugh as we watch the finale.
The two women pant harshly as they straighten out their clothes before rising, leaving the unconscious girls on the floor. Laughing, they both look each other over, flattening the other’s hair or tucking their girly bits back into place.
“You’re going to have to tell me later why I just beat on her like a bad debt collection.” I’m liking her friend more and more.
“Probably my fault, but it was well worth the entertainment,” I say. The two narrow their eyes on me, trying to gift me with their evil death stares. It obviously doesn’t bother me, as I’m nowhere near being afraid of this pair. Well, maybe the friend a bit. I wouldn’t mind finding out her story. That beat down she just gave number one was beautiful.
“You? Yes, it was your fault. What a fucking slut,” Circe mutters under her breath as she untucks her dress from her panties.
“Well, doll…” Kicking each of the girls lightly with the toe of her shoe, her friend grins. “They seem to be out of the fight. Can I leave you to your own vices for a while?” Turning, she smacks each of her boy toys on the shoulder before grabbing each by the cock. “I’m more than riled now. Someone is going to have to deal with all this adrenaline coursing through me.”
Jesus! The things I could do with someone like her. As I watch her walk off with the two guys in tow, Circe smacks me hard across the face.
“What the fuck was that for?” I ask.
“What the hell is right! Why didn’t you lend a hand once the second bimbette decided to engage in WrestleMania? You didn’t help at all. You just stood there rubbing your cock.” I’m shocked she noticed. “Oh, trust me, Mr. Crown, I noticed you palming yourself as I had my hair yanked by sasquatch one and two.”
I can’t handle it. Reaching forward, I kiss her hard on the mouth, gripping her by the face. I know she wants it, but it seems she’s just not going to ask for it.
As soon as our mouths touch, she moans as her tongue tangles with mine. Pulling back after a few heavy breaths, she realizes she just gave in to me. It seems she’s into angry sex, which is fucking perfect. I can certainly work with that.
“Fuck, you’re trouble, Mr. Crown.” Rearing back to smack me once more, I
stop her hand and kiss the back of it as I pull lightly on her hair. She moans again, and I know I have her.
CIRCE
What the fuck am I thinking?
Oh, I know. I’m thinking this man can kiss, and I’m not doing a bang-up job of avoiding him.
I find it hard to resist him and his wicked charm. Smiling, he runs his tongue across his teeth. He’s pleased as punch that he forced himself on me after the fiasco with the bimbos, and that I reciprocated the act is his invitation. My body is falling for his every move, and I’m a prisoner to its will.
“Fuck,” I curse quietly.
“Not here, Siren. But, I could be enticed elsewhere.” He steps into the last bit of space between us. Running his hand up the inside of my arm, he touches the soft skin closest to my breast, where my dress is now hanging awfully low. Yeah, I looked good up until a few minutes ago, but now I look like a went a round in a cage with chickens. My clothes are ripped, out of place, and bimbette one’s outfit had feathers, of which are now stuck to my sequins.
“Say it again.” Standing close enough to fuck in public, Wyatt pulls my earlobe into his mouth and sucks it gently, then nips the tender skin. Reaching out, I lightly touch the soft, hour’s old stubble on his seductive face. I’m just about to step back, needing to gain my composure, but he pulls my hand back up with a look that dares me to disobey.
“What do you want me to say, Mr. Crown?”
“You know what I want. Say my name, Siren.”
“No. You haven’t deserved it yet, Mr. Crown. At least, not after tonight’s display.” Flicking his loose tie, I relish my small victory.
Running a single finger along the top opening of my dress, right at my exposed skin, I hold my breath.
“Come on, you can say it. Say it, Circe.”
“No, Wyatt.” His name escapes my lips from need. Stepping back, forcefully this time, I say, “You were practically fucking two girls in the hall, and now you’re hitting on me. Are you that needy for a fuck?”
Laughing deeply, I watch as his chest rises and falls. His eyes twinkle even brighter, and the lines around his eyes add to his beauty. “If you don’t want me, then why kiss me?”