by Skye Darrel
I slap her sticky folds. “Who do you belong to, little girl? Tell me. Whose cock gets to cum in your pussy?”
“You!”
I spin her around.
She hisses.
I pin her flat against the wall, my teeth pulling at the lobe of her ear while I hold up her skirt and yank up her panties to split her ass cheeks. I smack her bared buttocks back and forth as fleshy thwacks ring in my ears. “Who owns this plump little ass?”
“You,” she cries.
I need to mark her.
Two more spanks jiggle her flesh, the skin of her ass flushing with a pink glow, and my cock hardens again to full length. Turning her back around, I yank down the top of her dress and unhook her bra. Her nipples stand up in points. I suckle on one tit, then the other.
I need her to mark me.
“Spread your legs,” I order. “Hold up your skirt.”
She widens her stance, plucks up her skirt. I kneel and fuck her pussy with my tongue until she squirts down my mouth, her hips jerking wildly as I raise her legs over my shoulders, lifting her entire body against the wall, my tongue still in her cunt as her orgasm spills into another, and another, her trembling thighs squeezing my head.
“Asher!”
When she can’t cum anymore, when she’s truly spent, I set her down and kneel again to tongue off the trails of cum running down her thighs. I put her panties back in place, help her with her bra and the straps of her dress.
She slaps my face.
I kiss her hand. “Ready for Goldilocks?”
“Get me a clean pair,” she commands. “You know what.”
I go upstairs still hard, dig out a pair of white cotton panties from her luggage, and wrap it around my cock. I jerk off in them. Ruin them. I find her last clean pair and return downstairs. I take off her soiled ones and pull up the new ones.
“You’re running out of panties,” I say.
“Whose fault is that?” She gets her messenger bag, takes a long sip of water, walks back to me and says, “Let’s go.”
26
Belted
Natalie
I settle into a stupor on the drive to Goldilocks. Asher asks about my health, as he likes to do after he gets really dirty and rough.
“Fine,” I say hotly. “I’m recovering from your passion.”
He grins at me like a wolf.
I can’t even.
It still tingles down there when I cross my legs, a haze of sensation fogging my head. I mean, he’s a fiend. Really. My last orgasm in the kitchen was beyond intense. Pleasure had rushed through my body in scalding waves that choked my breath. Embarrassing to think about now.
And I can’t believe I sat on his table and opened myself like that. Inviting him. Provoking him. That has to be the most indecent thing I’ve ever done my whole life. I think I threw a tantrum, a grown woman tantrum. I wanted my man to show me what he could do and Asher didn’t disappoint.
He never does.
I was also mad as hell at Branigan. What was it he said? If you beg nicely . . .
Ugh.
After all that’s happened my boss should get the message he’s as appealing to me as lead paint, but he still wants me to be his pet.
When hell freezes over, maybe.
Asher’s an animal when the mood takes him, but Branigan is a monster. For now though, I’m more worried about the monsters in Salma’s Hope.
I hope Eli Quinton can tell us something useful about Maral Swann.
We park in the back lot of Goldilocks. Asher phones Juno, who says Eli and Cora are eating, and we can come in whenever we’re ready. Cora still refuses to speak with Asher and doesn’t want him to ask Eli any questions.
Asher puts his phone away as we get out of the Mustang.
“I’ll talk to her,” I say.
“No, Cora is my responsibility. She’s my—”
“Niece?”
He looks at me in surprise. “You know?”
“She told me when we went for flowers. Juno and I spoke too.” I pause. “Your brother wasn’t a good dad to be honest.”
Asher still worships Eugene, so I’m nervous about his reaction. But I had to say that.
He looks me in the eye. “You’re right.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. As usual, you’re right. Eugene chose West Point because he wanted to provide for Pris and me. He loved us. He loved Juno too. But he didn’t love baby Cora the same way. He saw her as a duty more than a daughter. My brother was a good man, but that was his one failing.” Asher rakes a hand through his hair. “I’ve been trying to fix it, looking after the girl. But I was never good at being a guardian. Hell, before you showed up I couldn’t even keep Hansel happy.”
“You’re doing better now,” I say.
“Improving under your influence, Natalie.”
“Oh you definitely are.”
A rumble leaves his throat. He tucks a wisp of hair behind my ear, and I use my bag to push him away before he gets too excited. “Behave. If you don’t, I’m never wearing this dress again.”
“You could wear a sack and I’d still want you.”
“Maybe I’ll test that sometime.”
“Don’t expect the sack to be in one piece after.”
His hands slide up my hips. I squirm away and hold up my finger, and finally he settles down.
We head into Goldilocks walking side by side.
The nine tables in the dining area are empty except for one near the bar. Cora and Eli are sitting there, huddled together and talking in whispers, the sound of Cora’s gum louder than their voices.
Cora has her blonde braid looped around one shoulder, and she looks older than her years. Protective of the skinny boy next to her.
Eli has a sickly tint to his face, his moppy hair a mess, and I wonder if he’s skinny because he doesn’t get enough to eat at home. He’s halfway through a plate of mashed potatoes and meatloaf. The stitches on his forehead remind me of a red worm, and I shudder. At least the wound seems to be healing.
Watching them, Juno leans against the bar holding a half-full bottle of Jack Daniel’s. I can tell she’s burned out.
“Eli,” Asher says.
The teenage boy rises like he’s about to salute.
Cora nods at me before her wary attention falls on Asher. She turns to her mom. “I don’t him here.”
“He has to ask Eli some questions,” Juno says. She sounds more tired than she looks.
“Asher knows he made a mistake,” I say to Cora. “He’s sorry.”
“People die from his mistakes,” she says. “Sorry won’t bring them back.”
Asher approaches her with head bowed. He could say any number of things, apologize again, make an excuse, or tell her to grow up. I fidget my fingers, waiting.
“I can’t replace your father,” he tells her. “I can’t be a better version of Eugene. But I don’t think that’s what you want anyway. I’m me, Cora. You’re you. I’ll always be here when you need me. If you want me to leave right now, I’ll go.”
The silence lasts a long time.
Cora’s shoulders slacken. “I just want this to end,” she says quietly. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I want us to be safe and happy, all of us.”
Her eyes go around the room and I’m touched when she looks at me too.
“May I speak with Eli?” Asher says.
“If he lets you.”
Eli stands straighter. “What do you need to know, Mr. Wade? Anything at all.”
“I’m twenty-eight, kid. Don’t treat me like I’m the Godfather. Don’t call me sir either, gets me confused. My name will do.”
I pat Asher’s back. “His bark is worse than his bite.”
“To my friends,” Asher says with slightly too much menace. “Listen Eli, you’ve been gone from home a few days now. Would your father—would Titus search for you? Report you missing?”
Eli scoffs. “My dad probably thinks it’s good I ran off. He did it himself wh
en he was a kid. Tells me all the time how tough that made him, being on his own. How awesome it was. He doesn’t care where I am. People like my dad are the reason they created social services.”
I catch Cora’s smirk.
Even Asher softens a bit. “You mentioned before that Titus forces you to visit the casino?”
The boy drops his eyes. “Dad says watching strippers will put hair on my chest. Chin too. Also balls.”
I cringe.
“Interesting theory,” Asher says.
“He wants me to be tough like him,” Eli says. “But I’m not.”
“Titus is messed up in the head,” Cora mutters.
We already knew that. I still have that lock of hair Asher returned in my bag.
“Did Titus ever mention a woman named Maral Swann?” he asks Eli. “A dancer at the VIP Lounge.”
“Please tell us the truth,” I say.
“I remember Maral Swann,” Eli says quietly. “I saw her once.”
Asher and I swap a look.
“Go on,” he says.
Eli sits, and Cora holds his shoulder.
“She looked really young,” the boy says. “Kind of like you, Natalie. No offense.”
“None taken,” I say. “Did you know her well?”
“Not really. I remember her because she wore this costume with swan wings when she danced. Other girls went by Swan, but Dad said she was really a Swann, as in her name. It was a joke to him.”
The boy squirms in his seat. I nod encouragingly.
Asher sits in a chair facing him. “Tell us everything,” he says.
“Dad took me to see her dance a few times. She wasn’t very good at it. I don’t think she liked working at the Lounge. Seemed scared, you know? The last time I saw her was the worst. We were in a private room, my dad and me, and she came out without any makeup or anything. She froze, started crying. She’d never done that before. Dad yelled at her, but she wouldn’t budge, just held the pole and stood there. He left then. I did too, I didn’t know what else to do. Something must’ve happened to her earlier, I don’t know what.”
Eli takes a big gulp of water. He stares at the ground. “A couple days later, I overheard Dad and Mr. Resnik talking about Swann. Mr. Resnik got pretty loud. He’s not usually loud. He said she wanted to leave the casino, but he couldn’t let her go. She’d seen too much. He called her a loose end.”
Asher grits his jaw. “What else?”
“Mr. Resnik said Chief Dunkel wouldn’t be a problem, I didn’t know what that meant. My dad just laughed.”
“When did this conversation happen?”
“It was spring break for me. Two years ago.”
“Not long before Priscilla died. My sister knew this woman, Eli. Did you ever see them together at the casino? Did Pris ever visit her?”
The boy rubs his hands together. “Cora told me what happened to Priscilla. But I swear, my dad and Mr. Resnik never talked about her in front of me. I don’t know anything about . . . her murder.”
He’s telling the truth, I think.
Asher asks a few more questions about the drugs at Lucky Cherries, but his eyes wander, and I know he’s lost interest in anything else Eli has to say. This investigation has never been about the drugs to Asher Wade. It’s about avenging his sister.
And I ask myself, if it came down to it, would he choose vengeance or me? Vengeance or us?
“Please don’t kill my dad,” Eli says abruptly.
Asher sits back with a blank expression. “Do you believe in good and evil, kid?”
“Yeah.”
“Where would you say Titus falls on that spectrum?”
“He’s still my dad. I don’t have anyone else.”
“You have Cora,” Asher says to my surprise, to everyone’s surprise.
Cora hugs her elbows, stares at her boyfriend.
“And I love her,” Eli says quickly. “But my dad is my dad.”
“Asher, why can’t you just have Titus arrested?” Cora says.
“He murdered Pris. Your aunt, my sister. He carried out Resnik’s orders. He hurt Natalie, he’s hurt many others. Even if I could put him away for the rest of his natural life . . .” Asher’s voice drifts to silence.
I remember that day we found the dead fox in my car, when I’d told him to reconsider his plan to kill. He didn’t give me a straight answer then. I’m afraid what the answer would be now.
No, I already know the answer.
Asher wants blood.
Even if he survives his revenge plan, how can I spend my life with him? I could never forget. I would remember every time I looked in his face.
Eli begs again for his father’s life. Arrest Titus, put him in prison, just don’t kill him.
Asher looks around the room, and his eyes settle on me. “I can’t promise anything,” he says.
He drives me back to his house in the Mustang. We have the windows down, and a warm breeze blows through the car. The sun is an orange disc in the west.
“Resnik and Titus are guilty as sin,” Asher says. His hands are tight on the wheel.
“If you kill them, you’re no better than they are.”
“You don’t need to tell me,” he says. “Those who gaze into the abyss long enough find the abyss in themselves.”
I look at him sideways. “Sounds about right.”
He pulls into his driveway.
We sit in silence for a while.
I rub the patch in my bag made from his shirt. “We don’t even know the whole truth yet.”
“Natalie, I think it’s pretty obvious Swann gave my sister some dirt on the casino. So Resnik ordered Titus to murder them. Resnik and Titus are guilty.”
“Murdering murderers is still murder,” I say. Wasn’t easy to say either. “And I told you already, we don’t know everything yet.”
“What don’t we know?
I tick off my fingers. “First, we don’t know the connection between your sister and Maral Swann. Second, Hoyt Dunkel lied to us when we confronted him. He hasn’t told us everything he knows. Why?”
That’s two fingers.
Asher looks me in the eye. “Is there a third, doll face?”
“Yes, jerk-off. There is. Third, was Priscilla an innocent little doll like me? Did she talk to strangers or jump in unmarked vans? Would she fall in love with a big brute hellbent on revenge?”
Asher has the tact to drop his eyes. “No.”
“So it’s safe to say Priscilla wouldn’t walk to the river and wait to get drowned. She would have resisted.”
“Dunkel said Titus nabbed her.”
“She’d been writing you letters before she died, right?”
“For a year before.”
“And she ended her engagement with Resnik, right?”
“Yeah. Pris would never put up with abuse. She didn’t just break up with him. She fought back.”
“Okay,” I say. “So she would’ve been on guard against Resnik and his associates. Cautious. Careful.”
Asher frowns. “Titus can get you even if you are cautious.”
“Maybe, but we don’t know exactly how it happened.”
“What’s your point, Natalie?”
“My point is we don’t know all the facts, and if you do something rash we’ll never know.”
Asher leans against his headrest. “What do you think we should do then? Ask Resnik and Titus to sign a confession?”
“I think we should investigate further. We should wait.”
“And if they come for us?” Asher says. “For you? If they make their move first?”
“Then a certain big bad wolf will just have to protect my little kitten self.”
I’d meant the words to be taunting, but Asher glares at me and his eyes heat.
“Count on it,” he growls.
“Okay then,” I stammer. “Let’s, um, speak with Chief Dunkel again. Press him. You seem to be good at intimidating people. Let’s get him to tell us everything he knows, the whole truth.
”
Asher’s mouth is inches from mine. “That may take time. In case you forgot time is short. Branigan could have me arrested.”
“Maybe he was bluffing,” I say, my breathing faster.
“Does Branigan bluff?”
“Not when it comes to threats,” I admit. My face feels hot and I can smell the mint on Asher’s breath. “Let me call Oscar.”
“Oscar, who always follows Branigan’s orders?”
I push my man back an inch. “Not always.”
“Go ahead.”
I dial Oscar’s private number while Asher caresses my thigh. I knock his hand away and shoot him a glare. I tell him to behave as I wait for my phone to connect. Asher pulls down the left strap of my dress, nibbling my shoulder as his fingers play along my neck.
A moan escapes me right as Oscar answers.
“Natalie?”
“Hey,” I manage to say with my face in flames.
“Everything alright? You sound out of breath.”
“Yes I’m fine.” Asher’s hand slides up my skit again. “I gotta ask, Did Branigan have you sign some affidavit for an arrest warrant?”
Oscar says Branigan has been on the warpath ever since they returned from Salma’s Hope. “There was nothing I could do, Natalie. He made me write an affidavit saying your boyfriend beat him half to death. Said he’d fire me if I didn’t.”
My boyfriend who has his fingers teasing my clit through the fabric of my panties. Stupid wolf.
“What you did is called perjury,” I tell Oscar.
“I didn’t lie. Mr. Wade did hit him.”
“In my defense.”
Oscar sighs. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Nat. The warrant won’t hold up in court. You and that bartender can testify on Wade’s behalf, right? So do it. A judge will dismiss the charges. This whole thing will blow over.”
“We have problems of our own here, Oscar.”
I gasp. Asher has tugged aside the front of my panties and now curls his finger into my pussy.
“Natalie?”
“Yes I’m here!” I try to control my breathing. “Did you know Branigan had my license suspended?”
“I know. That was wrong of him.”