by Penny Wylder
Driving her fingers into my hair, she tugs at my roots, and turns her face in towards mine. Our eyes meet, and we stay like that for what seems like eternity, riding the bridge of the song. Brushing the tip of my nose across hers, the song hits a high note and I press my lips against hers.
Her lips part easily, letting me slip my tongue inside her mouth. She tastes incredible, sweet like honey, with minty notes. Our tongues dance around each other, licking and tasting, twirling and sucking.
Spinning her around, I scoop her face in my hands and kiss her deeper, harder, and with a devilish passion. I need her. Now. Not later, not after we get to know each other.
I need her right this very minute.
Taking her hand, I glance to the bathroom and start to walk towards the door. She doesn't resist at all, she moves easily through the room, dodging other dancers.
I know her pussy is dripping right now, eager and ready to feel me inside. Whatever uncertainty she might have had before, whatever reserve she wants to have vanishes as she practically passes me and throws open the door.
Closing the door behind me, I lock it. Taking a long step forward, I scoop her face in my hands, kissing her hard. And she kisses back. Like a hungry lioness, her luscious lips fuse to mine, locking on and refusing to let go.
Her hands are in my hair, running down my neck and over the broad span of my shoulders. Expelling a breath, she opens her eyes and looks up at me. We stay like that for a single breath, and it feels like we're getting to know each other without any words.
I can see her history; she can see mine. I can feel who she is, and she can feel me. It's like a lifetime passes between us with only a heartbeat.
And then I lose it.
Every thought and word in my head vanish as if I'm a blank canvas. All I can think about is her pussy and how good it will feel to be inside her. I want to feel her wetness, her tight walls, her body as she tenses and shivers when I fuck her so hard her toes curl and her eyes roll into the back of her head.
“You're going to moan for me, little angel.”
Her breath hitches as her eyes expand and she nibbles her bottom lip. She looks like she might want to say something, but I don't give her a chance. I'm afraid she'll end this; I'm terrified she’ll stop us right here.
So I kiss her. I kiss her because my body is telling me to. I kiss her like I've known her all my life. I kiss her like she's oxygen and I'm drowning.
Wading through the water, I found my muse. And she's perfect.
Taking firm, commanding steps, I walk her backwards until she hits the wall. The music is still pounding around us, but it's suddenly drowned out by the sound of my heart slamming in my chest.
Slipping my knee between her thighs, I spread her open, making room for me to press closer. The girl's back arches off the wall as my fingers find her leg and start to climb up her inner thigh.
She takes in a deep breath and holds it as my fingers reach the hem of her dress. “Are you wet for me?” I ask, running the tip of my tongue over the shell of her ear.
Moaning, she looks up at me under hooded lids. “Soaked,” she chokes out as she swallows hard. It's the first time I hear her voice, and it makes my cock jerk instantly. I'm ready to hear her scream and beg for me.
“I'll be the judge of that.”
I watch a shiver as it runs through her body, creating goosebumps on her skin. She's breathing faster and heavier as my fingers inch closer to her pussy. “Your cunt is hot, I can feel it already.”
Licking her lips, she opens her mouth to speak, but I silence her, running my finger up and over the outside of her panties, sliding down her slit. Using the pad of my finger, I find her clit and press her needy button.
My nameless vixen buckles at the knees, grabbing my shoulders to hold herself up. I haven't even entered her yet and she's already melting in my hands. Her panties are drenched, the silky juice is seeping through the fabric.
“Fuck, that's hot.”
Pulling her panties to the side, I slip a single finger in and she lets out a moan that makes my balls tighten and my cock throb. In and out, I slowly fuck her with my finger and use my thumb to rub her clit.
Her body is trembling as she lays her head back on the wall and closes her eyes. Slamming a second finger inside, she clenches around me, her walls firm and tight, trying to hold me in.
“Mm,” she groans, grinding her hips down against my palm. Moving her hands up my stomach, she lifts my shirt and slides her hands over my abs.
Her fingers tease my belt, plucking at the buckle, before moving down my hard cock. Squeezing my engorged tip, she inhales a sharp breath, her eyes growing wide as saucers.
Flashing a smile, I arch a single brow and ask, “Does that scare you?”
“Should it?” Stroking back up my shaft, she starts to undo my belt. Licking my throat, she pops the button free and tears my zipper down.
Pumping my fingers in and out of her pussy faster, she groans as she reaches inside my pants and grabs my dick. Her slender fingers run up the underside of my cock, tracing the thick vein and the ridge of my crown.
Holy fuck.
Pulling my cock free, the tip is shiny and slick with pre-cum, and it’s pulsing, ready to devour her hot little cunt.
Growling, I tear my fingers from her pussy, and suck her juice off. “Mm,” I groan as I lick her flavor off my skin. “You taste amazing. Now I want to feel your juice on my dick.”
Flipping her over in one quick twirl, she splays open palms on the wall. Pushing down on the center of her spine, her ass perks higher. Rolling up the back of her dress, I take a handful of her plump, perfect ass and squeeze.
Should I have screwed my head on more clearly? Probably.
But too much liquor and being horny as fuck tends to break down that wall between good and bad ideas. This is one of those moments where I choose to let that wall fall down. Fuck anything else, my dick needs a release.
Jiggling her ass side to side, I position my cock against her entrance. Using her silky arousal, I coat my tip and slam inside her. I can't hold back, there isn't one bit of restraint left in my body.
Letting out a loud cry, her eyes snap shut, and her head falls back. Reaching around her, I tug down the front of her dress and pinch her nipple. Pistoning my hips, I fuck her like an animal, hard and fast, with one goal in mind; reaching the end.
This woman has gone from being a pretty girl across the bar, to my first true weakness. I have never stopped thinking completely, not ever. Until her. She broke me down until I was nothing more than pure, rogue animal.
Faster and faster I pump in and out, her body hot and soaked, her cunt tight and smooth, milking my shaft. We're nothing but sounds and movement. Her hips meet my pace as her moans grow louder and louder.
The hair on the back of her neck shoots up as goosebumps cascade down her arms and over her ass. I can feel my stomach clench as the orgasm bubbles deep in my gut, drawing up my balls and making my dick hard as granite.
“Yeah, let me hear you,” I say with a devilish tone, digging my fingers into her hair and tearing her head back. “Let me hear how much you like my cock in your pussy.”
“Mm, fuck yeah. Fuck me, fuck me harder.” Her words are strong and firm, so I do as she says. I slam in hard, so hard I swear I'm hitting her lower belly as my balls slap her ass.
Grunting, I hold her hair with one hand and hold her hip with the other. Stilling, I feel her body as it shakes and her pussy pulses. That's all I need, that right there, her body has become mine in one single moment.
My cock explodes deep inside her, pump after pump of hot cum shoots from my dick, filling her with my pleasure. Our breathing is labored, the high I feel is so intense my body is tingling all over.
Pulling out, I take a step back and exhale hard. “Wow,” I say, adjusting my cock and tucking it back into my pants. “Just wow.”
Grabbing a few paper towels, she cleans herself off and starts to fix her hair in the mirror. “So, let me
guess, this isn't your first time screwing some girl in the bathroom, is it?”
“I don't talk about the past. I prefer to focus on here and now.”
“That's a bit naive to think like that, isn't it? Your past is what helps your future.”
Moving to the sink, I'm standing next to her as I turn on the water. Our eyes meet in the mirror, so I lift my fingers to my nose and inhale a deep breath of her scent. “Naive—no, I don't think so. People learn from doing, and people fail from doing. So, why not just love everything you do?” Squirting soap into my hands, I wash them. “No regrets.”
Cupping her hip, the girl turns to face me. She's about to speak when there's a loud bang on the door. We both stand quiet as voices start to explode from the other side of the door and another giant bang rattles the wall.
“What's going on?” she asks, taking a long step back.
“I haven't got a clue.”
Another bang, then another, they're coming in succession, and growing in intensity. The yelling is getting louder, and then out of nowhere, the door breaks open, sending bits of shattered wood in our direction. Two men tumble inside, both of them punching each other.
The bouncers from the club are circling the two men like it's an actual boxing match and they're the refs, trying to break it up. Fists are flying, arms and legs are moving and tangling. Then I see one of the faces, and it's not just a stranger, it's Stone.
“Whoa! Whoa!” I yell, attempting to stick my arms into the tangled mess of flesh and bone. Catching a fist to the chin, I stop and rock my jaw side to side to make sure it isn't broken. “That's it, mother fucker, now you're going to get it.”
Jumping into the pile, I'm striking some asshole I don't know in the face. I can feel weight on my shoulders as I'm jumped from behind. Next thing I know, it's not just a simple fight between men, it's turned into a mass brawl.
My temper is flared, taking over my brain. I’m a man of extremes, I like to go all in no matter what it is I'm doing. And this is no exception.
Stone is on one guy, I'm on another, the bouncers are trying to get between us, but if anyone gets in my way, they get a fist to the face. Sweat is pouring down my temples, and I lose sight of the mystery woman I just fucked.
I shake her out of my head, focusing on what's happening in front of me. All I can do is help my friend.
It all happens so fast, all of it. From the drinks, to the girl, to the fight; next thing I know my face is being slammed onto the dirty bathroom floor and my arms are being yanked behind my back.
Cold steel binds my wrists as I'm cuffed, and two cops slip their hands under my arms and lift me off the floor.
“Fuck! Let me go! I'm cool, I'm cool!”
“Yeah, you'll be cool, when you sleep it off in the drunk tank.”
“You can't do that! Do you know who I am?”
I'm in shock that these cops would even think about throwing my ass in jail for the night.
“Obviously, you don't know who we are. Because we're the law,” the cop points at his badge and tips his head. “We don't give a shit who you are, you break the law, you go to prison. The rules don't change because your mom raised you to think you're special.”
It was complete chaos around me. People, cops, bouncers, flashes from cameras and the music still blaring in every direction, I couldn't focus on one specific thing.
My head is whipping around over my shoulder, trying to find my muse, the girl I went after, not the girl who threw herself at me.
But she's gone.
The steel bars of the door clank loudly as the cop pulls it shut, locking me inside. Laying on the bench, my head is already pounding, giving me a preview of the hangover I can expect tomorrow morning.
Resting my hands up over my head, the only thing on my mind is that girl. She had gotten away before I learned anything about her.
Her name, her number, what she does for work, how old she is. Everything about her is a mystery.
Closing my eyes, images of her, of her body, her smile, the way she felt on my cock are the only thing in my mind.
A fallen angel has disappeared, but I know it isn't going to end with her as a memory.
I have a girl to find.
And just like everything else in my life, determination is all I'll need.
2
Sylvia
Three Days earlier
“Look at this shit.” Tossing the newspaper onto his desk, Daniel sinks his face into his hands and groans. “This kid is going to fucking ruin me. I'm going to be the laughingstock of the entire industry.”
Picking up the paper, I'm staring at the face of Phade Manson. . . but not the great fighter my step-father raves about, I'm staring at Phade Manson with wild, crazy eyes, his mouth hanging ajar with a ridiculous smile, and a drink in both hands.
He's a drunken mess, and the tabloids are eating it up. They've been eating it up for some time now, too. Phade's making a name for himself alright, and it isn't the one Daniel wants to see.
The headline on today's paper reads, 'One Punch King Or Drunken Jester?'.
Phade Manson is supposed to be the golden glove of the ultimate fighting world. Everyone wanted him, all the hands were in the pot, trying to get a piece of this young blood. But only one got his signature, Daniel Cross. I think it's safe to say that not everyone sees it as a loss to Cross. Last Saturday night, Phade traded his gloves for the sweet Devil's Brew, much like his recent weekends in New York City, L.A., and Boston. . .
I don't need to read anymore of the article, I know how it ends; with Phade becoming part of some joke and Daniel becoming the loser in it all. Dropping the paper back on his desk, I lean back in my chair. “This isn't good.” I look up at my step-dad, pure disbelief on my face.
“No shit, Sherlock. I'm glad you pointed that out to me.” Rolling his eyes, his nostrils flare wide. “We can't have this, Syl, this—” Slamming his finger down on Phade's forehead, he glares at me. “This can't happen anymore. It's the fifth time in less than two months his face has been on the front page. I can't take it; it has to stop. This is my name—our name,” he says, pointing a finger between us. “He's ruining your reputation, too.”
My reputation?
None of this is mine, not one piece of this place belongs to me. This entire organization is all my step-father. Having built it from the ground up, Daniel Cross knows how to manage, conquer, and destroy. I'm lucky to even have one foot in the door.
But I want more, I've always wanted a chance to prove myself, to show him I'm good enough.
“Well, what are you going to do? How can you stop him?” Flipping the paper over, I set it so his face is down, and slide it back. “You can't really keep tabs on the guy, can you?”
Daniel's mouth folds into a thick grimace as he pulls his hair back tight against his scalp. “He's going to destroy everything if he keeps going out and getting fucking trashed. No one's going to take me seriously. I can't keep cleaning up his messes and pulling strings to keep this kid out of jail.”
Thinning my lips, I rest my chin on the back of my knuckles. “What if you amend his contract to include no alcohol? You can make him sign it or tell him he's done.”
“No, that won't work. He'll just walk and sign with someone else. I don't want to lose him, I just want him to straighten up his act. We need something to clean up his image, make him more of the guy kids want to look up to, instead of the guy parents use to teach their kids about drugs and alcohol.”
Taking the paper back off the desk, I read more of the article on Phade. Turns out the sexy, beefy newcomer had gotten so annihilated that night, he poured a drink on the bartender, turned over three tables, and broke four of seven bathroom mirrors.
Paparazzi got pictures of most of the destruction, and a few lucky shots, including one of him passed out on the floor. He's losing his edge, the one thing that draws everyone in, and he's becoming a complete joke.
Snapping his fingers in my direction, Daniel grins. “I've got it!
” he belts out, sending his chair back a foot. “And you're going to help.” He veers his stare, instantly making my stomach clench.
I don't like the look on his face. I'm not sure I even want to hear his idea.
“Me?”
“You.”
“Me?” I ask again, pointing to myself, and sitting slightly stunned.
What could I possibly do to help fix this? Phade will never listen to me, shit, I don't even think he knows I exist, never mind take directions from me.
Stroking his jaw, his smirk is wide like the Joker. He looks so excited, like he just won the lottery, and isn't going to have to work another day in his life.
“I've got the perfect idea to fix this entire situation.” Leaning back in his chair, he smiles with a lazy grin and steeples his fingers together. “You ready for this?” he asks, but he doesn't wait for a reply. Pointing at me, he bounces his finger lightly. “You're going to become his fiancée.”
“What?” I choke out, coughing slightly.
Did I hear him right?
Fiancée?
“Yes, it's perfect. We'll make you his fiancée. You can reel him in, calm him down, make people see him as the good guy, and not this.” Throwing his hand out towards the paper, he sighs. “I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner.”
No. No. No.
This isn't the answer!
I want to grab his collar and yell in his face. I don't actually do it, I can't. I owe him so much for everything he's done for me. I can't just protest his idea or he'll fire me on the spot.
But I can try to counter his idea, maybe give him something else to think about that isn't me with a ring on my finger and engaged to man I only know through the paper.
He is hot. I'd have the sexiest fiancé in the city if I do this.
Pushing the superficial rationalization away, I purse my lips and lean forward, fiddling with my nails on the desk.