by Jax Hart
I finished de-tangling my thick, wild hair and sat down on my bed. I picked up my clipboard with a blank sheet of music on top. Soon, notes filled in-between the lines as the song that played in my head ran across the page. It came out fast and kept going until the last note. Satisfied, I put my pencil down and was ready to play what I had just created.
Christine knocked, letting me know she was heading out for a night on the town, starting with an early dinner.
I checked my watch, I had two more hours off before I had to begin dog walking again. But I’d be on the West Side tonight. During the day, I worked the East Side, where suits and high-powered people leave their pets while they go “run the world.” And at night, I worked for the people tending bars, going out for fun, or making money by being paid escorts. Hey, I don’t judge. It’s hard making it here. Harder than I ever thought it would be.
I propped up the sheet music on my keyboard and started playing. The notes floated from my room, out the open window and disappeared into the twilight.
CHAPTER FOUR
It was the same old shit.
Women who only looked good due to their fake boobs, fake tans, fake nails and fake hair.
I was over it.
Over it all.
I wanted something—or someone, fresh, real. And I knew exactly who that was.
“What’s your problem?”
I tipped my head, surveying the scantily clad woman hanging all over the two of us while we sipped straight scotch without ice. “Get off me, sweetheart.” I swatted the tight butt of a woman who was attempting to straddle me. She flipped her hair, annoyed, but chose Johnny instead, sliding across the velvet couch to where he sat.
“That’s it, baby, right there,” he moaned, as she straddled his hips, putting the heat of her square on him. I didn’t feel like sitting next to Johnny while he dry-humped some skank, so I grabbed my drink and stood in the shadows of a corner. Johnny’s never been the type to commit, and I was hardly surprised by his behavior.
My eyes narrowed through the hazy club at a slender brunette with a determined look in her eyes. She was heading straight for us in our private V.I.P area roped off by bodyguards.
Johnny’s goons halted her approach. Her eyes spit fire as Johnny stroked the skank’s nipples over her clothes.
“Let her by,” I murmured to Johnny's lead bodyguard, standing to my left. He probably assumed I wanted her for myself.
She was different than the rest of the girls here… she had less makeup on and real hair. But she looked too ripe; overly hungry for dick. Just like the rest.
I craved a challenge. When everything in life is handed to you—there’s no thrill of the chase.
I thought dating Tish— whose family has a bloodline as blue as they get—would finally make my father look at me with something other than contempt.
I was wrong.
And a fool for trying to please him. I spent my entire life, up until last year, trying to get something from him other than scorn. He might have given me control of the firm out of duty to his bloodline, but besides his name, that’s all he’s ever given me.
I sipped my drink as I watched the girl move closer to Johnny, shutting the door to the past that had opened in my mind.
She struck suddenly. She grabbed the skank’s elbow and threw her to the ground. While the woman was still stunned, the newcomer wasted no time taking her place.
“Well...hello, darling,” Johnny drawled. “You want a turn?”
“I want the whole damn ride,” she answered, as she grabbed him by the tie and pulled his mouth up to hers.
They kissed like long-lost lovers. Even I got hard. I couldn't look away. But instead of seeing them, I saw myself and Selina.
Christ, it’s been too long since I’ve gotten laid. There’s no reason a girl I just met should consume me like this.
I needed to fuck someone.
Tonight.
I swallowed the last drops of whiskey, feeling the wetness linger on my parched lips. My balls were full and hung low in my pants. My semi wanted some love. I didn’t care who—I didn’t care how, either. As I walked past Johnny and the girl, I heard him ask, “Who are you?”
“Yours,” she answered. Part of me was jealous. It burned in my gut as I hunted around the club for someone with dark hair and curves. There weren't any to be found. With a sigh, I nodded my head at the woman whose hungry eyes were watching me. I didn’t even attempt to hide my smirk.
She wanted me.
Because I had money. Power. And the biggest dick in Manhattan. I crooked a finger at her. She practically ran to me.
“Hello,” she purred, running her palms up the front of my shirt. They ran along my pecs, where they stopped, admiring my sculpted muscles. I didn’t answer with words. Her face was a blur I barely looked at. I grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the club through a private door, where one of Johnny's goons nodded as I entered. I turned her around in the dark, held her hands high above her head as I pinned her body against the wall with mine.
“You know who I am?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Do you want to come?”
“More than anything.”
I smirked again, in the dark, as my hand bunched up her dress and my fingers slid across the front of her. She was soaked. Her need penetrating through the thin silk. My index finger teased her as I rubbed her clit for a few seconds before running the tip of my finger through her.
“More,” she begged.
I closed my eyes, imagining I was touching Selina. That is was her clit I played with… her juices coating my hand as I slipped two thick fingers inside her wet heat. The woman moved her hips, fucking my hand to the rhythm of sex. The scent of her arousal filled the air. It made me harder than I was before. Pure male instinct took over. I had a willing woman in my hands, literally, who wanted me to fuck her. Mate with her like an animal. But I won’t stick my dick in randoms. I have a list of women on call when I need to get laid.
My hands moved quicker, rougher as they slipped around and in her. She cried out as I felt her convulse around my fingers. Her head fell forward, and I released her hands. Her breaths came out in pants. She turned, trying to kiss me.
“I don’t kiss,” I bit out.
“Ever?”
Her eyes moved to my cock straining against my fly. “If you kiss me… I’ll…”
“No. You’re going to do that anyway, sweetheart. I saw how you looked at me.” I unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly and took myself out. Pre-cum leaked from my purple head. I was so hard… my dick was all kinds of color. She licked her lips and moaned, probably imagining how good it would feel buried deep inside her. But she’ll never find out. I’m saving myself for Selina. Only she will feel the power of my big dick as I pump into her pussy over and over.
She fell to her knees, opened her mouth wide and moaned as she took the first taste of my cock.
I grabbed fistfuls of her hair, shut my eyes and fucked her mouth. I pumped hard and fast. She choked on me but didn't stop. “Selina!” I ground out through gritted teeth, as I came down the back of this chick’s throat.
“No… that’s not my name.” She looked up confused, with my cum still on the corners of her mouth.
“I know.”
She reared back as if I had slapped her. Her cheeks turned deep red.
“Fuck,” I muttered, more to myself, as I zipped myself back up. I was done with her—hell, with everything. I came down her throat like a motherfucker and yet… I still felt like I needed more. I wanted to break shit. All I knew was my perfectly crafted Upper East Side life wasn't working for me anymore. I had hidden my dark nature for too long and it wanted to claw its way out and cause havoc.
She stood, unsure of what was going to come next. The look in her eyes was far different from the burning confidence she displayed when she first came to me.
With a curse, I said, “I’m leaving. Do you need a ride somewhere?”
She no
dded and tried to slip her hand in mine. I pulled away, disconnecting. She followed me out of the crowded club. Thank God, the evening air was cooler than the inside was. I breathed in deeply. The evening air was thick with the smells of spilled beer and cigarette smoke. The breeze brought a whiff of a hot pretzel dog with mustard from a street vendor’s cart slow cooking rotisserie style.
“You want one?”
I turned to my faceless, nameless hook up. I cringed because under the city lights, she looked hideous. Her makeup appeared smeared.
She looked greasy.
Used.
I did that to her—I could do a lot more. For a split-second I debated doing just that until the smell of shit replaced the hot pretzel dog I was about to buy. “I really have to pee. Wait for me?” she squeaked and ran back inside.
I knew I wouldn’t. The only reason I was aroused in the first place is because another woman was on my mind.
I turned quickly, colliding with a curvy woman who had no problem yelling at me. “Watch it, asshole! You almost stepped on Hermie!”
“You!” We breathed in unison.
“Well, well… little spitfire. New York isn’t a big city after all.” I pocketed both my fists, so she wouldn’t see them curled. I desperately wanted to reach out and touch a piece of her long corkscrew-curled hair. It was straighter with only loose waves this morning. But tonight, she was wild. Beautifully, angrily wild, as she stood in front of me.
“Lately, it feels cramped,” she bit out.
“What are the chances I’d find you twice in one day, Selina?”
She sputtered for a second as the dog whined and walked around her; the leash wrapping and winding around her legs.
Images of tying her luscious legs to my bed posts filled my head. She was wearing short… and I mean short, denim shorts. The ends were frayed, and they hung high on her upper thigh, stopping just below her ass by a few inches. Her skin was caramel, soft and toned.
I bit the inside of my lip… but I really wanted to bite the soft spot just inside her upper thigh. My mouth watered as my gaze traveled up her tight, but curvy, body. When I reached her face, I knew she was pissed off. And not just because my eyes had stripped the clothes off her for the second time in one day.
“How did you get my name?” Selina stared up at me so hard, I knew her neck would ache later.
I took a hand from my front pocket and reached around to the back. Slowly, I unfolded the crisp paper she had posted inside the lobby of my building and held it up, close to her face. “Not only do I have your name... I have your number.” I meant to tease, but it sounded more like a warning.
She wrinkled her nose. “You smell. You smell like…” She never finished, and I thought I might get out of this one, but then…
“Actually, I could eat another piece of meat. Although, those couldn’t be as tasty as the one I just had.” My nameless hook-up had slid her arm through mine as she nodded over toward the street vendor.
Selina’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the two of us, muttering in Spanish about dirtbag men who only think with their dicks. “You’re welcome to join us?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, hoping to see the flare of her temper. I was a sick fuck because I craved seeing her pissed. It did wild things to my libido and I knew I’d probably pleasure myself to the image of her flushed face, parted lips and angry eyes.
She started backing away with Hermie’s leash wrapped around her slender wrist. “I don’t do threesomes. And even if I did—I have higher standards than the two of you. Excuse me,” she flipped her hair in a huff as she petted the dog at her feet.
She was such a smart ass. Always quick about it, too. I felt more than my dick getting aroused. Her sharp wit and intelligence were also an aphrodisiac. She heated my blood. Plain and simple. I’m not questioning it. I see something I want: her. And I’m going to get what I want. I’m no longer a lost little boy. But I might be a jaded and jagged man. I can’t change who I’ve become.
“Hey, lady! Are you gonna pick up that dog’s shit? It’s making me wanna hurl.” Some drunk-fuck who was smoking, staggered forward. Before Selina could answer, I swiped the doggie poop bag from her hand and shoved it into his.
“No. You. Are.” I got in his face. The skin was drawn tight over my cheek bones. I knew I was being irrational, but the primitive need to protect her was out in full effect.
“Fuck. You.” The drunk spat. I didn’t even flinch as drops of his saliva came flying from his mouth. A few of Johnny’s men stepped forward from the surveillance positions they were previously in.
“Holy fuck,” Selina whispered, as Roque Salvatore stepped out of his Black Lincoln Navigator with five bodyguards.
“Everything good, Rafe?”
“It will be,” I muttered to Roque. He is the head of the Chicago Mob and I just heard, through Johnny, that he was making a play for the entire West Coast. Johnny’s been sweating his balls off since Roque’s been sniffing around New York, probably trying to take the territory right out from under Johnny’s nose. I knew Johnny had invited Roque to New York to make a deal or truce or something. Roque was in the same Fraternity at Princeton as Johnny and me but graduated a few years ahead.
“I ain’t picking up no shit. It’s that bitch’s job.”
Selina and the woman next to me both gasped as I moved with lightning speed and grabbed that motherfucker’s neck. I pushed him nose first to the ground, holding him inches from it.
“Pick. It. Up.”
Roque strode forward. His commanding presence parted the gathering crowd. He bent low, looked the dude in the eye and whispered something. Who knew what it was, but the man pissed himself right there, opened the small plastic bag and scooped up the dog shit.
I looked up, triumphantly.
But it didn’t last.
Like a ghost, she was gone.
Leaving me feeling alone, even though I was standing on a busy city block.
“Where did she go?” I asked Roque’s guards.
They shrugged. “Who was she? Someone important to you?” Roque, himself, asked.
“She will be.”
“Ah, it’s like that.”
“It is.”
“I’ll be in town discussing business with Johnny for a few days. We should all grab drinks and catch-up.” He clasped me on the shoulder and walked away.
The woman next to me had already forgotten me, she was hooked on a bigger fish. Disgusted, I waved off my hired car and chose to walk for a bit. My driver pulled from the curb and crawled a few blocks behind me.
I walked for an hour.
Lost in my fucked-up thoughts.
I kicked a pebble with my Armani shoes.
I was all show. Glossy. Expensive. Park Avenue and Bentleys. But, underneath, I felt like an unwanted, dirty child who just wanted to feel loved and have a real home.
No one wanted me.
Not really.
How could they, when no one ever bothered to get to know me. All Tish wanted was the status of being my girlfriend. The last time I tasted love was before my mother and grandmother died. That was years ago.
I thought I didn't need it.
But wasted nights like this one, reminded me that maybe I did. I paused under a streetlight and waited for my driver.
He pulled up and opened my door. I slid in my seat, just wanting to get home and wash everything away from the past few hours, except for her. I wanted her energy to cling to me like a second skin. I wanted to sleep with it tonight and wondered if it would keep me from feeling lonely.
As soon as I got home, I stripped and stood under a lukewarm shower for a good thirty minutes. I was clean. It was late… and yet I was keyed up. I picked up my journal and opened my balcony door that overlooked Central Park. My eyes faced west…knowing she was on the other side of the city. My hand gripped the wrought-iron railing for a beat and then I sat under the moonlight and began to write:
I closed the journal and looked up to the Heavens, befo
re I went inside. My cell vibrated on the counter. I had a string of texts from Johnny telling me his “new girl” gave him the best head and that he was taking her back to his place. He also mentioned to meet him and Roque for dinner tomorrow.
I tapped my fingers on the counter. Screw it. I picked up the flyer I had in my pocket and opened it. I tapped in her digits and shot her a text:
You walked away from me. Twice.
I waited, but she never replied. My gut churned. The more she ran… the more I wanted to chase. So, I typed out another text:
Go on a date with me. You owe me for ruining my new suit.
Crickets.
It took me a while to fall asleep. But when I woke the next day; there it was. Her reply.
Never. Lose this number.
Her sass had me grinning like an idiot. I rolled onto my back, so my morning hard-on could breathe. It hurt like hell. But I wouldn’t touch it. No one was going to touch my dick either. I swore to myself, even if it took months… it would be worth the wait to feel her hands on me.
Not a chance. I’ve already found you. You’re on my radar, little spitfire and I’m locking in on my target—you.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nineteen hours, twenty-two minutes and about fifteen seconds. That’s how long it’s been since Rafael and I collided.
For a man I can’t stand, his face kept popping up in my head. I wished I could erase it; erase him, rewind time and had woken up twenty minutes earlier yesterday.
The man irritated me. He’s the fly buzzing around your room, landing everywhere and every damn time you think you’re gonna squash him…he gets away, only to buzz around and irritate you some more.
I wasn’t impressed with him trying to play the hero with me last night either. I’m no damn damsel in distress. I could have and would have handled that drugged up jerk just fine, but Rafael had to play the dark hero and intercede.
At least now I know to avoid walking on that block at night. Next time, I’ll take Hermie down another route. Maybe I should’ve known he’d be at one of the hottest new nightclubs in that part of the city, but Mr. Hashtag had fallen out of the gossip columns, for the most part, until yesterday...until we collided, and it was all captured and livestreamed.