Whiskey Throttle (Crash &Burn Book 2)

by C. Davis

  “Leave.” I growled, “You won’t like the results if you don’t.”

  “No.”

  “I hate you.” I sneered with a scowl on my face.

  “I know. And like I said before, I don’t have to like you to fuck you.” He shot back.

  “I’m not going to fuck you again, Spelling. In case you missed it, let me make this clear. You’re not going to fuck me again. Not ever.”

  “Oh yeah, Martinez? I got fifty bucks that say you will.”

  Before I know it, Lance took the bat and twists me around. He shoves me against the tree and whispers harshly in my ear. “I bet if I checked your panties are probably soaked. Admit it, you want to fuck me again.”

  “You’re wrong.” I lied.

  Yes, I was soaked. There’s just something about the rush of adrenaline in my veins when we go at it. He thrusts his hips and ground his erection against my ass. “Feel that, sweetheart? That’s what you make my dick do. I hate you and you hate me. I get that. But you also make me hard as a rock. So, shall we fuck now and fight later?”

  “Not a fucking chance, fuck boy!”

  He yanked the bat and threw it to the ground. A gasp escaped my lips when he spun me around to force me to look at him. Lance pressed up against me and brushed his lips against mine.

  “Prove that you’re not wet between the thighs and I’ll leave. But if you’re not—I’m gonna pull your pants down and fuck you against this tree.”

  “I don’t have to prove shit to you, asshole. Just leave and I won’t kill you.”

  That was a lie. I needed him to leave before I gave in and let him have his way with me. We were poisonous when mixed. My words were venomous. His actions were destructive. And together—we were a bomb just waiting to go off.

  “Baby, you need to work on your lying abilities. I can see right through you. You know what I see?”

  “You’re delusional.”

  “Am I? Then, spread your legs and let me slide my hands into your panties. If you’re dry as a bone, I’ll walk away.”

  “And if I’m not?” I asked.

  “I’ll slide them down and slide my cock in your little pussy. I’ll fuck you so hard you forget your name. Spread your thighs, Martinez. Prove me wrong.”

  I find myself parting my thighs as he reached down between our bodies and pops the button of my jeans. My breath hitches when I hear the zipper being undone. I let out a whimper as he slides his hand into my pants to find my panties.

  “God, you’ve soaked right through your lacy panties. Ready to be fucked by a Spelling?”

  “Lance, stop. We can’t…”

  “The fuck we can’t. Admit it, you hate me, but your body craves me.”

  “N-no, I…” I stuttered.

  Without knowing, my hands roam down his firm chest and unbuckle his belt. I pop the button of his pants and pull the zipper down.

  “Condom,” he rasps.

  “I’m on birth control. It will be fine. You’re clean, right?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good. Take off your fucking pants, Martinez and turn around.”

  I kick off my shoes and take off my pants. When I reach down to take off my panties, he hisses. “Just leave them on. I’ll slide them to the side. Besides, I like it when I see you in a thong.”

  I twist around and grab onto the tree, arching my back. He positions his length at my entrance and slams into me without warning. I cry out as he thrusts mercilessly. This wasn’t just a fuck. This was Lance hate fucking me. Nothing about this is gentle or loving. I let out another cry when he grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head back.

  “Yeah, baby, you’re such a dirty little whore. Ain’t that right?”

  “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me harder, asshole.”

  “You want it harder, yeah? Then I’ll really give it to you.”

  My moans and his grunts are all that can be heard in the woods. Remember that bomb? Yeah. It’s about to go off any second. Right inside me. Everything in this moment was wrong. But why did it feel so right? I shouldn’t want Lance Spelling the way I do. But my body won’t listen. My mind hates Lance, but my pussy craves the man I loathe.

  Chapter 6

  Lance

  What the fuck was I thinking?

  Oh yeah, I know. I was thinking with my dick. I took a sip of my beer and ran a hand over my face. I fucked Camila against the tree and man, it felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, she felt so goddamn good.

  “Lance, my man.” Vincent grins, “Where’s your friend?”

  “Not my friend,” I muttered.

  “Hmm,” he hummed, “If she’s not your friend, it’s alright if I ask her out.”

  “No!” I snapped.

  “Not your friend, eh? I call bullshit.”

  I took another sip and let out a breath. Vincent knew me better than my brothers did. Right now, I couldn’t be around them. I was pissed at Murdoch and Caine; he was on Murdoch’s side. So, I guess I’m the odd man out. I chugged down the rest of my beer and sighed. Vincent leaned against the counter and raised his brow. He was waiting for my response.

  “She’s not my friend. I hate her and she hates me.”

  “So, you got one of those I hate you but I still want to fuck you friends?” he asked.

  “I’m not gonna fuck her again. It shouldn’t have happened the last time.”

  “Don’t you mean the first time?”

  “I may have fucked her again.”

  Vincent smirked, “You’re totally into her. When are you going to get over your crush on Aubree Anders?”

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. I had always had a thing for Aubree, but now it’s too late. She was my brother’s girl. When I opened my eyes, I breathed out. “You can’t help who you love.”

  “I’m telling you from experience, let her go and move forward with your life.”

  “How did you get over yours?” I asked.

  “It won’t take overnight, but give it time. You’ll find the right girl for you.”

  “Maybe,” I drawled out.

  Vincent winked, “Maybe you already have.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Give me another beer.” I muttered.

  Vincent pulled out a beer and twisted the cap off, setting it on the counter. His gaze traveled to the back of the bar and cursed under his breath. I followed his gaze to see Camila leaned against the jukebox. And just like that, I was hard all over again. Only she could make me do that.

  Stop it, Lance.

  You hate her.

  Hate.

  Loathe.

  Despise.

  Camila shifted her weight as she decided what to play on the music box. She wore a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a crop top. I licked my lips and thought of how I had her last. Pressed against a tree. Sucking her neck. Sliding my dick into her. Getting lost deep inside her. I turned back to see Vincent grinning at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You gonna go over there and say hi to your “not” friend?” He asked, nodding in Camila’s direction.

  “Give me a shot of tequila. I’m gonna need something strong tonight.”

  I glanced back to Camila and shift in my seat. She’s bent over a little more. Is she teasing me? She has to know I’m here. For fuck's sake, I’m the one who showed her this place.

  But you did tell her she could come back anytime she wanted.

  Vincent pours a shot of tequila and slides the glass across the counter. I grab it and down it, slamming the glass down on the hard surface.

  “Pour two and leave the bottle on the counter. I’ll be right back.”

  “And where are you off to, Lance?”

  “To make sure she picks a good song.”

  I slide off the seat and stride towards Camila. Resting my hands on her hips, I lean down and whisper in her ear. “So, we meet again.”

  “Spelling,” she muttered, “What are you doing here?”

  “I think that’s my line, Mart
inez.” My voice comes out hoarse.

  “Can you take your hands off me?” she asks through a whisper.

  “Pick 2A,” I recommend.

  “Maybe I don’t want to hear that one. We already know we hate each other, so why play it.”

  “Fine, play 3A and dance with me.”

  “You expect me to dance with you to Jace Everett’s Bad Things? Keep dreaming, fuck boy.”

  “Dance with me and I’ll leave you alone,” I whisper wrapping one hand around her wrist and press her finger against the button. “Push the button and show me you’re not a chicken.”

  Something in her snaps and she pushes the button. I glance over my shoulder and see Vincent leaning against the counter with a smug grin on his face. He knew what was about to go down.

  “We gonna dance or are you gonna hump my leg like a horny dog?” Camila asks, grinding her ass against my cock.

  I pull away from her and twist her around, gripping her hips roughly. Jerking her hips towards mine, she gasped. “You were saying?”

  She bites her ruby lips and wraps her arms around my neck. She averts her gaze to the entrance to see two men stumbling inside.

  Fuck!

  What the hell are Oliver and Trevor doing here?

  Oliver pushes Trevor to the wall and captures him in a kiss. When I look back at Camila, I see a tear rolling down her cheek. I bring my hand to her cheek and wipe it away and whisper. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”

  “Why are you being nice to me? We hate each other.”

  “Nobody deserves to have their heart crushed like that. Just forget about them and dance. You can close your eyes and pretend I’m Trevor, okay?”

  She nods and closed her eyes, allowing me to lead her to the dance floor. At this moment, I do the same and forget about everything. Forget about my brothers, Aubree, and the fact I’m in love with a girl that will never be mine.

  “Lance?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Kiss me,” she whispered.

  Even though I hate Camila, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Why? I have no idea. But I hate the fact someone else upset her. Hate or no hate, I didn’t want anyone to make her cry. For some odd reason, I felt a jab at my heart. She opened her eyes and inched closer, whispering the two words that made me forget about Aubree.

  “Kiss me,” she whispered once again.

  I glanced over to Oliver and Trevor and waited until I locked eyes with Trevor. Then, I kissed her. For once in my life, I did something without expecting anything back in return. Maybe if Camila and I didn’t hate each other, we could have something special. If only life was that simple.

  Chapter 7

  Camila

  Lance kissed me as he palmed my ass, taking each cheek in his hands. I deepened the kiss urgently. Our tongues clashed together. I opened my eyes and tore lips away. But just for a second to catch my breath. Heat blazed in his dark eyes when our lips crushed against each other angrily.

  “Lance…” I groaned.

  “Fuck, you’re killing me here.” He growled.

  I could feel a fire building deep within, wetness pooling between my thighs. Lance pulled away, pressing his forehead against mine and whispered. “I have a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses with our name on it. It's all up to you, Senorita. Just say the words.”

  I bit my lip, contemplating my next move and glanced across the room. My heart dropped when I saw Oliver and Trevor still locked into a passionate kiss. Lance put two fingers under my chin and forced me to meet his stormy eyes.

  “Don’t look at them. Nobody else is here but you and me. Just you and me, baby.”

  Baby?

  Where the fuck did that come from?

  This wasn’t the Lance I knew.

  Obviously, he’s drunk.

  The song ended and switched over to a slow song. He whispered, “One more dance, Senorita. If you don’t want to drink with me, I’ll let you go after the song is over.”

  “One more dance,” I confirmed as he twirled me around and brought me back to him. My back pressed against his chest as he kissed my neck.

  I leaned my head to the side and whispered. “Everyone is watching us.”

  “Let them, I do enjoy an audience.”

  We were treading on dangerous territory. I was thinking about him. He was thinking about her.

  Nothing good could become of this game we’re playing. Lance knew it and so did I. We’re toxic… poisonous when mixed.

  Lance spun me around and grabbed my hips, jerking me towards him. I could feel his hardness pressing against my belly. Lance feathered his lips over mine and rasped. “Last chance to walk away, Senorita.”

  “Not a fucking chance, fuck boy,” I say just above a whisper.

  “You should walk away before something bad happens.”

  “Still not walking away. I’m not scared.”

  “No?” he asked, raising his brow.

  “I’m not gonna give you the chance to call me a pussy.”

  “Come on, let’s have a few dozen drinks before we ruin each other.”

  “And after?” I asked.

  “Shh, just go with it, Camila.”

  And I do. I let down my guard and let him take the lead. Just for tonight. Lance led me to the bar and we take a seat next to each other. We grab a shot glass each and smirk as we glance at each other. He raised his glass and I do the same.

  “What are we toasting to, Spelling?” I asked.

  “To poor choices that we might make tonight.” He answered.

  “To poor choices. May our night be filled with multiple orgasms.”

  “Orgasms? I thought that was a given.”

  “Shush, fuck boy. Don’t ruin the moment.” I muttered and knocked back my shot.

  I let the liquid run down my throat to ease my broken heart. I slammed it down on the surface, earning me a questionable glace from Vincent. I shook my head and forced a smile.

  “Bad night?” Vincent asked.

  “Bad fucking year,” I mumbled.

  Lance draped an arm over my shoulders and whispered. “You and me both, Senorita. You and me both.”

  “Make me forget, Lance,” I whispered back to him.

  Lance grabbed the bottle and glanced at Vincent before telling him. “Gonna crash in the back.”

  Vincent nodded, “Go for it, man.”

  Lance and I stumbled to the back and took turns taking drinks from the bottle. We entered the room and he closed the door. Suddenly, alcohol wasn’t what I wanted. I slipped the bottle out of his hand and set it onto the table. As if he could read my mind, he crushed his lips against mine. He kissed me greedily.

  “Fuck me, Lance.”

  “Patience, Senorita. Good things come to those who wait.”

  “Enough teasing,” I growled. “Just fuck me already.”

  He narrowed his eyes, a burning desire swirling in his chocolate orbs.

  “Clothes off! Now.” Lance said.

  No. More like he demanded. And I obliged. I stripped off my clothes after kicking off my shoes. Lance held two fingers up in the air and twirled them a few times. “Turn around and bend that sexy ass over for me.”

  I spun around slowly one my heels and bent over the table. I didn’t care that he wanted me like this or the fact we were enemies. I just needed him to be inside me. Now!

  I heard the familiar metal hitting the floor and clenched the edge of the table. I turned to look over my shoulder. Lance pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. He stepped forward and placed a hand on each ass cheek, leaning down. He let out a growl and hissed,

  “Spread your legs. I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my dick.”

  My back arched slightly as I spread my thighs further apart. Lance lined up his length at the entrance. The head pressed against my core, making a whimper escape my lips. “Please, Lance. No more teasing.”

  Lance gives me a firm smack on the right ass cheek and growled. He pushed the head between my slit
and slammed into me hard. Nothing was loving or gentle about the way he was fucking me. It was rough and punishing the way he filled me to the hilt. Stretched my walls and began the storm that had been brewing between us. One of us was bound to get hurt in this dangerous game. I was just afraid it was going to be me. Lance Goddamn Spelling was going to ruin me.