Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  “Come on. I need to gas up. Then we’ll get you home.”

  She just nodded again. She looked completely numb.

  I rode the bike over to the pumps and filled the gas tank. Janine kept looking over her shoulder back toward where the two bodies were lying in the darkness. I didn’t say anything to her, just put as much gas in as fast as I could. When my tank was full, I got back on and the bike roared to life.

  We sped out of there, back the opposite way we had come, back down the highway.

  I didn’t know what the girl was thinking, but it couldn’t be good. She’d just witnessed her first gang murder, or at least heard it. She’d been around us for a long time, but she’d never had to see what we did close up before. I couldn’t begin to guess what she was feeling.

  We sped back, and suddenly I felt her press herself up against me harder. She gripped me like that, holding my body hard, and I could feel her begin to shake.

  Crying, probably.

  I clenched my jaw. I wanted to stop and hold her, help her, but I couldn’t. I had to keep going, just in case the cops were looking for us or just happened to ride by. We couldn’t slow down.

  So I let her hold me like that as I rode fast back toward her apartment.

  19

  Janine

  They were the first murdered men I had ever seen in my life.

  When Clutch rode out of town and eventually got onto that desert highway, I’d had a feeling that we were running from someone. I couldn’t tell who exactly, since I didn’t want to look back, but I figured it was bad. Clutch wasn’t the type to do something rash without a reason.

  When we got to the gas station and he told me to get into the bathroom, I understood what was happening, but some stupid part of me thought maybe he’d just fight the guys, beat them up, and then we’d run away.

  It never occurred to me that he was about to kill them.

  But of course he did. Of course he killed them, because they were there to kill us. He had no choice. I saw the weapons the men were carrying, and I saw the patch on the one man’s back. They were Snakes, and they were after me.

  I was numb at first. I hadn’t actually seen them die, but I had heard the shots and seen the bodies. I was just totally numb and couldn’t think about anything but those bodies and the blood, all that blood.

  We hit the road and headed back toward the city and my apartment. I couldn’t stop myself from hugging up hard against Clutch as all my fear and terror spilled out of me. I cried and cried, sobbing against his back. We couldn’t stop of course, since Clutch had just killed two guys. We had to keep running back toward the city, where we would be safe. But I needed to hold something, needed to cry, to get it out of my system.

  We rode back through the night, not stopping or slowing down. Clutch was like a stone sitting ahead of me, but he was also something else.

  He had killed for me.

  About halfway back home, that thought hit me like thunder. Clutch had just killed for me without a second thought. He’d put himself in danger and killed two men just to keep me safe.

  I knew that was his job. I knew Clutch was an enforcer, a violent and dangerous man, but I’d never seen it before. Now it was real. Clutch was willing to kill for me.

  That hit me in a strange way. I’d been wrestling with feelings for him for a while now, feelings I couldn’t exactly define or control. But knowing what he’d do for me, it began to push me closer and closer to something, to some edge.

  We moved on through the night, not talking, not stopping, not slowing. There was only him. He was my strength, my foundation. I held him tightly, terrified of letting him go.

  Finally, after that felt like the longest ride of my life, we pulled up outside my apartment building. We hadn’t come across any problems or seen the police, which was good.

  He cut the engine and stood. “Stay close to me,” he said.

  I nodded, suddenly afraid again. He reached into the bags at the side of his bike and quickly reloaded his gun. He nodded to me and then moved into my building. I kept close to him, staying just behind.

  We moved slowly. He checked each corner, each doorway. He was careful, methodical, and I was afraid.

  Up the stairs and down the hallway. I kept close, kept near. His bulk and his body were reassuring. I tried to control my breathing.

  We stopped outside my door. He tested the knob and then held out a hand for the key.

  I gave it to him. He unlocked it and kicked it open, flinging the door wide and entering gun first.

  Nothing. I followed close behind. The apartment was dark, lonely, empty.

  “Stay,” he grunted at me. I watched as he moved through the whole place, checking every closet, the bedroom, under the bed, the shower, everywhere someone could hide.

  Finally, he relaxed and put his gun away. “Come on,” he said.

  I walked inside and he shut the door behind me.

  My whole body was tingling from fear and elation. We were safe. I was home. Clutch had taken me home, had kept me safe just like he had promised he would.

  I was finished. I was done pretending, done holding back. After tonight, everything seemed so obvious, so clear. Anything could happen at any time, and I was being so stupid by putting off what I really wanted.

  “Clutch,” I said.

  He walked over to me, grabbed me by the hips, and pushed me up against the door. He kissed me hard, his lips rough against mine.

  I melted into his embrace. He kissed me hard like that, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. There was nothing else in the world but him.

  After everything that had happened, this was what I wanted. I knew it more than ever in that moment. This man, holding my body, pressing me against the door roughly, he was what I needed.

  I moved my hands down toward his belt and began to unbuckle it. I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted to. I worked his belt open and quickly unbuttoned his jeans, pressing my hand down his boxer briefs.

  His cock was thick and hard. He grunted as I began to stroke him, grinning.

  “Is that what you’ve been wanting all this time?” he whispered into my ear.

  “Yes,” I moaned. “Yes, I want it.”

  He kissed my neck and slowly began to unbutton my jeans. As I stroked him, he pulled them down over my hips with three tugs. I gasped as his hand found my panties.

  “Soaking wet,” he said. “Exactly what I thought.”

  “You’re pretty hard yourself.”

  “Damn right I am,” he said. “I’m going to fill this little cunt up with my hard cock, and you’re going to beg for more.”

  I gasped as his hands flicked below my panties and found my soaking clit. He grabbed my hand from his jeans and pressed it back up against the door, pinning me there as he began to work my pussy.

  “I want to get you within an inch of coming, girl, and then make you beg for it.”

  “Shit,” I gasped as he pressed his fingers deep inside me.

  “That’s right. I want to make you beg and moan. This tight little pussy wrapped around my cock is going to make you scream.”

  He kissed me again roughly, pleasure rolling through my veins. I wanted him badly, so badly I could barely stand. He pulled back and took my shirt off, tossing it aside, and quickly unhooked my bra.

  I stood there against the door, my jeans halfway off my body, his hand down between my legs, working my pussy. He kissed my chest, teased my nipples with his tongue, and continued to work my clit, rolling in soft and hard circles.

  “Fuck, this body,” he said. “You’re perfect, girl. You know that?”

  “I’m not,” I gasped.

  He grinned and moved his hand back. He grabbed my hips and turned me, pressing my hands up against the door. He pulled down my jeans the rest of the way, making me step out of them before he kicked them away.

  I heard him pull off his own jeans and shirt and toss them aside. I looked over my shoulder at his muscular body covered in tattoos as he sm
irked at me. His hands slowly moved down my body, his lips against my neck, his hard cock up against my ass.

  “Perfect,” he said. “You can’t be anything but perfect.”

  His fingers found my panties, and he slowly slid them down my skin. Shivers ran up my spine as he moved my panties all the way down to my ankles.

  Kneeling behind me, he grabbed my hips, and then his mouth was against my pussy.

  I gasped, shocked. He began to eat my pussy from behind, his tongue rolling everywhere, pressing inside me and up along my clit, exploring every inch. I kicked away my panties and spread my legs wider, his hands holding my hips hard as he ate me.

  I couldn’t believe it, but the pleasure was incredible. Waves of burning fire washed over me as he ate my pussy out from behind, his strong hands holding me there. I couldn’t help but moan his name, saying it over and over again as his practiced tongue worked my body.

  “Oh my god, Clutch,” I moaned. “How do you do that to me?”

  “Easy,” he said. “You’re fucking delicious, and I love this fucking ass.” He slapped my ass, and I groaned as he pressed a finger deep inside me.

  “You were built to fucking take it,” he said. “Look at this tight cunt. You’re dripping wet for me right now.”

  “Clutch,” I moaned as he went back to licking me. “I can’t help it.”

  His dirty words were driving me wild, and I knew I wasn’t going to hold anything back, not from him, not as he controlled me and worked my body. Clutch was too strong, too overwhelming. Every new word, every new movement, it all pushed me over the edge.

  He stood and stepped back, spinning me back around. His briefs were gone, tossed aside, and I took his thick cock in my hands and began to stroke him.

  “Suck that cock, girl,” he said into my ear. “Suck that cock like the dirty girl I know you are.”

  I dropped to my knees and took his thick cock in my hands, working him like that. I licked him root to tip, loving the taste of his skin, surprised at how badly I wanted him in my mouth. I began to suck him, sliding his thick cock between my lips.

  He grunted and took my hair, pressing me down. “Take that fucking cock in your throat,” he said. “I want to feel you suck me hard, girl.”

  I worked him, sucking his cock, letting him press himself deep into my mouth. I couldn’t hold anything back and wasn’t afraid to let my spit cover his skin. I worked him with my hand as I sucked him, using my spit to slide my hand along his shaft. He grunted his pleasure, fucking my lips, pressing his cock deeper into my throat.

  “Your fucking pretty mouth looks incredible wrapped around this big cock,” he said. “And you like sucking it, don’t you?”

  I moaned as I worked his thick cock, sucking him harder.

  “Fuck, that’s like fire in my veins,” he said. “I love watching you suck that cock.”

  I let him press his cock into my throat, and I took him, wanting every single inch of him, wanting to make him feel as good as he made me feel.

  I pulled back, looking up at him as I slowly sucked his tip, my hand running down over his skin. He groaned, shaking his head.

  “Fuck those pretty eyes,” he said. “I could look at you sucking that cock all day long.”

  I pulled his cock out of my mouth with a slight pop. He groaned as I went back at him. I surprised myself with my own hunger for him and how easily I lost myself sucking his cock, how badly I wanted to make him come thick down my throat.

  But before I could get him there, he stepped back and grabbed my arm. He pushed me deeper into the room and up against the couch. He turned me around and spread my legs wide.

  “Stay,” he said.

  “Clutch,” I moaned as he walked toward his pants. He fished something from his jeans and walked over. He ripped open the condom and slowly rolled it down over his cock, all the while making me stand there, watching him. My pussy was dripping wet, and I could hardly stand the anticipation of it.

  He pressed himself up against me from behind and whispered in my ear. “You want this cock inside you?”

  “Yes,” I moaned. “I need it. I’ve been needing it.”

  “Beg for it,” he commanded.

  “Please, Clutch. Fuck me. Fuck my pussy.”

  He grabbed my hips and pressed his cock against my pussy. “Again,” he commanded.

  “Please,” I moaned. “Fuck me. Clutch, I need your cock.”

  He pressed himself deep inside me then, sliding along my slick pussy.

  Pleasure exploded through my mind. His cock was thick and long and filled my every inch. I couldn’t believe I could take him, but I did, and he filled me perfectly.

  “Ah fuck,” he groaned. “This tight pussy is exactly what I knew it would be: slick and fucking incredible.”

  I moaned, holding on to the back of the couch, as he slowly began to slide in and out of me. He spread my legs wider, and I knocked something off the table that was pressed against the back of the couch, but I didn’t care. All I could think about was him fucking me and how badly I needed it.

  He began to thrust faster, harder, deeper. He pressed himself against me and kissed my back, my neck, grabbing my hair and pulling it back.

  “You want me to fuck this tight pussy?” he groaned.

  “Fuck me rough, Clutch,” I begged.

  He laughed and slapped my ass. “That’s my girl,” he said. “You like it hard and rough, don’t you?”

  “Go ahead,” I groaned. “Find out.”

  “You dirty girl.” He pulled my hair back roughly and began to fuck me strong, hard, thrusting his thick cock between my legs.

  I loved it. I loved the way he grabbed me, held me, pulled my hair. He slapped my ass again, hard, and I moaned. I realized I couldn’t stop my moans, couldn’t hold anything back. He thrust deep inside me, in and out, his heavy cock slamming into my tight pussy.

  And I took him. I loved the feeling of his cock thrusting hard into my pussy, slamming into my tight spot. The slap of skin against skin drove me wild as he slapped my ass again, hard. I moaned his name and began to rock my hips back against him.

  “Work that ass,” he grunted. “Take my fucking cock, girl.” He fucked me hard, rough, like an animal.

  I moaned over and over. “Oh my god, Clutch. You feel so good,” I said.

  “You light a fucking fire in my veins,” he replied. “This tight cunt is like a fucking glove around my cock.”

  He pressed himself deep and wrapped a hand around me to rub my clit. I worked my hips against him as he found my clit with his rough, practiced fingers. He fucked me from behind, rubbed my clit, and I couldn’t move a muscle as he worked me. I moaned loudly, groaning with wild abandon, absolutely lost in his cock savagely working my pussy.

  I could feel the orgasm coming on just then. I could feel it building and building, and I began to moan louder, began to work my hips faster.

  “You close?” he whispered in my ear.

  “Yes,” I moaned. “Clutch, fuck, I’m close.”

  He suddenly stopped and pulled out.

  I gasped, shocked. “I didn’t say you could come,” he said.

  “Clutch!”

  He grabbed me by the hips and dragged me across the room, practically carrying me. He shoved some papers and books off the kitchen table and then lifted me up and placed me down. He shoved me back and pulled my hips to the edge of the table.

  He stood in front of me and slid his thick cock deep between my legs as I lay on the table, my legs spread wide.

  “I want to see that pretty fucking face while you come,” he said.

  “Shit,” I gasped. “Clutch.” He began to fuck me hard, deep, his cock pressing in at a new angle. The pleasure was absolutely incredible. His thumb found my clit.

  He grabbed my breast with his free hand as he fucked me like that. I could see his strong chest, dripping sweat, just like I was. He fucked me rough and deep, working my clit. I had to reach up and steady myself on the table edge as he fucked me harder, h
arder, animal-like and savage, working deep into my pussy.

  “That’s right, girl,” he grunted. “You take that cock. You come on my fucking big dick.”

  “Clutch,” I moaned. “Fill me. Fuck me. Please.”

  He worked me harder, and I began to roll my hips in time with him, getting lost in the rhythm of our bodies, the pleasure just one long, deep wave of mind-bending need. It washed me and filled me, his thick cock thrusting in and out of my soaking-wet cunt.

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, rocking my legs open wider. His thumb found my clit again as his cock thrust deeper, harder, into me.

  His grunts, his strong body shredded with muscles, his thick cock thrusting deep inside me, his incredible thumb working my soaking, swollen clit, it all pushed me toward the edge. I could feel the orgasm coming back, coming harder and stronger.

  “Please, Clutch,” I moaned. “Don’t stop. I’m so close.”

  “Come on this big cock,” he said. “Come nice and hard for me.”

  He kept moving, fucking me savagely and roughly, working my clit and my body.

  And the orgasm washed over me. My body tensed in a mind-bending fireworks display of pleasure that tore through every inch of my skin, leaving every tiny hair upturned, every nerve frayed and tingling. My muscles tensed, arching my back, my toes curling down, my hands gripping the table hard.

  As I came, pleasure rocketing through me, Clutch began to speed up, fucking me faster, harder. Then his own grunts filled my mind as he came, his cum filling my tight pussy, our bodies synched together, working hard and rocking.

  Slowly, so fucking slowly, the orgasm faded. He pulled himself out of me and stepped back, grinning hugely. “Fuck,” he said. “Shit. The way you look pushed me right over the edge.”

  I laughed. I could barely think.

  He grabbed me and lifted me up. He carried me easily over to the couch, and we collapsed there together, buzzing with the pleasure of an incredible orgasm rolling through our bodies.

  I didn’t care what this meant. There was no today or tomorrow. There was only this moment with Clutch. We had been inches away from death together, and Clutch had brought us back through it.