by Marni Mann
And, now, one would be permanently marked on my skin.
“Yes,” I said, “let’s do it.”
Beard
I was woken by the scent of sex and a raging fucking hard-on. With the amount of times I’d gotten off last night and early this morning, I was surprised my dick hadn’t been rubbed raw. But it was standing as tall as hell, and the heat from Layla’s and the stripper’s skin was making me want them again.
Both women had slept on me. Layla was cuddled into my chest, and the stripper had a hand and leg wrapped over me.
It didn’t matter which way I moved; I had a set of tits on each side, cunts that had curved right around my cock, and asses that weren’t afraid of a good pounding. If it weren’t for work, I’d never leave this bed ever again.
I rolled toward Layla, reaching down to her bare pussy, running my fingers toward her clit.
She groaned without opening her eyes. “What time is it?”
I looked over her shoulder to the nightstand where there was an alarm clock. “Ten.”
“We have less than an hour before we have to meet with Panig.”
“It won’t take me that long to eat your pussy. We’ve got plenty of time.”
Her eyes finally opened. Damn, she was hot after all those hours of fucking. Hair nice and messy, skin a little flushed.
“I need to get ready and put a few bites of something down my throat.” She smiled back at me, and I knew she was reading my mind. “I don’t mean your cum, Beard, and mine isn’t going to be what you eat for breakfast either. Go get in the shower. I’ll meet you in there.”
I growled, grabbing both their asses, and slid out of bed. Once I got in the bathroom, I turned on the hot water and stepped into the shower. There were four heads, and they all sprayed on me at once. I adjusted each one to fit my height, and while the water massaged my muscles, I put my arms over my head and used the wall to hold me up.
My skin stung from all the places the stripper had bitten me and from the scratches they had both left on my back. Sex scars. I fucking loved them. And I loved that my beard felt thick with all the cum that was coated inside it.
As the steam filled the shower, the smell of sex became even stronger in here. It was gone the second I picked up one of the bottles and poured the soap into my hand. I rubbed the bubbles over my face and down my cock, scrubbing it into my balls.
“Washing me off?” Layla asked as she stuck her head into the doorway of the shower.
Her voice was so much lighter now, but it didn’t sound as good as her screams. She’d given them to me last night whenever I’d asked. So had the stripper. They hadn’t been as loud as I’d wanted. Not as piercing, desperate, needy.
I’d get them there.
“If it didn’t change the color of my beard, I’d keep you in there all day.”
She joined me under the spray. “Mmm, let me help.”
While she scratched her fingers through the hair, I watched the way hers fell over her tits, using the ends of it to rub against her hardened nipples. The second she pulled her hands away from my cheeks, I dipped my lips into her neck and licked all the way to her chin. I circled her waist, holding her steady, as my cock pressed into her stomach. She felt so good. So soft, so goddamn slippery under the water.
“Got room for one more?” the stripper asked.
Layla smiled at me. Shit, those lips were fucking powerful.
We both turned toward the stripper, who stood by the glass door.
“Hell yes,” I replied. “Get over here.”
She let out a noise that sounded like a giggle and hurried over to us. Now, I had both women sharing all four showerheads with me. Some of their fingers were soaping my body; some were running over their skin. Shampoo suds were falling from all our heads.
There were so many fucking hands in here, I couldn’t tell who they all belonged to. I just knew one of mine was inside a cunt, and the other was palming a tit while my lips were on flesh that tasted like an island.
Shit, these were my kind of lesbians.
Panig and his assistant met Layla and me in the lobby of the building he had purchased. Introductions were made, we shook hands, and he invited us into one of the units that he had converted into an office. Layla had told me he was based out of Manhattan. He felt really Miami to me. The dude wore his hair slicked back and had on a light-pink shirt. His shoes were fucking white.
I hoped his construction had more edge than his goddamn wardrobe.
“I know you were probably expecting an office downtown and a sales center along with some renderings of the building. We’re working on all that. My team is in the process of relocating as we speak, so within the next month, we’ll be fully up and running.”
“It’s all good,” I said, taking a seat on one of the couches. “We’re just here to talk contracts. I don’t require anything real fancy.”
Layla sat next to me, and Panig and his assistant took the couch across from us. On the table between us were four bottles of water and several different stacks of paper.
“Layla mentioned you’re heading out of town tonight, so I don’t want to keep you too long. I just want to make sure we’re all in agreement with the latest round of changes.”
“You gave me what I’d asked for, so yeah, I’m happy.”
Layla nodded. “I feel the same way.”
“Perfect,” Panig said. His assistant handed him a pen, and on the right stack of sheets, he initialed the bottom of each and signed his name at the end. “This is to settle the purchasing of the condo. We have to keep things official for the county.”
“I get it.”
He gave his assistant back the pen and said, “Any last-minute requests?”
The terms of the cash loan were exactly what I’d asked for, and I was more than satisfied with the return I’d get. Everything else—the price of the condo, the design, the parking—was about to be finalized once my name was on those documents.
“Nah,” I said. “I’m ready to sign.”
He gave me the documents, and I handed them to Layla. She slowly scanned them and finally gave them back, nodding to tell me she liked what she had seen. I initialed right next to Panig’s, and I signed on the opposite line.
“Let me get you copies,” the assistant said to me, moving over to the printer. She came back with the pages tucked into a sealed folder that she stuck on the table in front of me.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s discuss the cash.” Panig glanced at the bag at my feet, one that I’d filled with the contents of my safety deposit box after Layla, the stripper, and I had eventually gotten out of the shower. “Layla tells me you’re in for half a million. Once we meet the first construction deadline, you’ll be willing to put in another half. You’re considering two million, max, with a quarter of a point raise after each share is invested, and the interest will be paid to you monthly.”
“That’s right.”
“I have one year to pay off the full amount, or the points triple.”
I leaned forward to rub the side of my beard. “Nah, the points quadruple until the fifteenth month.”
His brows rose. “What happens then?”
I never said shit like this unless I was inside the prison. I also never gave anyone money before. But this was business, and he needed to hear the truth. “After fifteen months, I’ll find you. I’ll get my money back, and then I’ll fucking kill you.”
I heard Layla take in a deep breath, but I didn’t bother looking at her. She needed to know that I didn’t play. Not when it came to this kind of stuff, not when it came to someone’s life, and not even when my cock was involved with the person brokering the deal.
Panig walked over and stopped right in front of me. “We won’t have to worry about that. I keep my promises.” He extended his hand in my direction. “We can’t sign any paperwork. You’re just going to have to take my word for it, and we’ll seal things with the shake of our hands, just like the old-school way.”
&nb
sp; That was how Shank and I had started the prison and how Diego had come on board. How Bond had agreed to front us the cash to get the land purchased and the construction started. We couldn’t trust paper; it left a trail of crumbs. But, if this was the way we were going to conduct things, then Panig needed to really know how serious I was.
I clenched his hand. “I don’t mind doing business this way, but just know that, if I don’t get my money, you won’t have a hand to shake with anymore. Or an arm. Or a fucking head.”
“Understood.”
He took the bag from me and gave it to his assistant. She opened it and removed all the cash, placing the stacks in piles, noting the amount of each one, and taking a picture of it all.
“Five hundred thousand,” the assistant said to Panig.
He remained standing, and I joined him, our hands clasping once again, my grip much looser this time.
“I look forward to making a lot of money for you,” he said.
I glanced at Layla before I replied, “Me, too.”
Tyler
Four Years and Two Months Ago
I sat at the bar, a cheeseburger and fries in front of me, with small containers of ketchup and ranch next to the plate. An empty basket of popcorn was by my glass. My beer had been refilled four times. By the fifth, I’d be hiccuping.
I reached for the mug, not wiping my hands before I grabbed the handle, not taking the ketchup off the corners of my mouth.
Not even looking to my right when I felt someone sit beside me.
I didn’t even have to glance in his direction. The smell, the swish of his jacket, the sound the wooden legs made when he manhandled the stool—I knew it was Jae.
This was the first time I’d come to the bar since our run-in. Maybe I shouldn’t have returned, knowing there was a chance he’d be here. I just hadn’t thought he would be. Not with how much time had passed, not with him unaware of my schedule and the nights I had off.
“Beer?” the bartender asked him.
Jae rattled off some funky brand, the same one he’d ordered when I met him here. The bartender held a glass under the tap and filled it to the top.
“Burger?”
“I’ll skip the meat this time,” Jae grunted.
I felt the air from his words; it lingered around my nose, as though he were facing me when he’d spoken. I took in more of his smell. My eyes closed for just a second, as I remembered the way his hands had felt, and then I slowly turned toward him. The second our stare connected, I knew it was a mistake. He was so sexy, so edgy. His features were so distinct, and the feel of him was so mysterious. He had the ability to suck all the air out of me and leave me gasping. But I couldn’t stare. I couldn’t gasp. Jae was completely off-limits.
I glanced back at my burger and took a bite, my chest tight and painful.
“Here you go,” the bartender said, setting the beer in front of Jae. “Can I get you anything else?”
“Some popcorn.”
“You got it.”
The bartender placed a basket by Jae’s beer, and then he moved to the other side of the bar.
With him leaving, our audience was gone, and we were alone again.
The music played quietly in the background. The TV wasn’t on. Only four of us were in the bar tonight. I liked it better when there had been just three. With one less here, I had felt safer. Now, I was doing everything I could not to gaze back in his direction.
“Tyler.”
Hearing my name come from his lips caused my whole body to shake. The French fry dropped from my hand, and my throat closed around the tiny bite of potato that I’d been trying to get down. I wanted him to wrap me in that word. To say it over and over with his mouth close to my ear. Those two syllables demanded so much, and I wanted to cave. I wanted it more than anything. But I couldn’t. And the pain that it caused was so overwhelming, it felt like the skin on my chest was going to crack right into my heart.
“Please don’t,” I begged.
I’d said the opposite of what I wanted. It was such a lie; it’d stung as it came out of my mouth. I just knew that I wanted my life as much as I wanted him.
It wasn’t a choice even though I wanted it to be.
“Tyler.”
He ignored me. I had known he was going to do that, too. I knew this was going to become the hardest thing I’d ever have to do.
“It hurts enough as it is, Jae. Don’t make it hurt more. Just let me eat my burger and go home.”
“I can’t do that.”
I focused on the fries. I couldn’t put them anywhere near my mouth, but they gave me something to look at. “You haven’t seen me in months. I don’t understand why you’re here now.”
“Why?” His voice rose a tiny bit toward the end of his question, like he was surprised I had even said it.
Then, I felt him turn in his chair and shorten the distance between us. It killed me that I couldn’t do the same, that I should be moving further away because it was the right thing for the both of us.
“It’s the first time you’ve been back here, Tyler. That’s why I’m here now. I can’t go to your apartment, and this is the only other place I knew you’d come to.”
I tilted my head just so that I could see his hands. His fingers were long and solid. I imagined how skillful they were. And then I took that thought and pushed it back to the furthest place in my mind. But what it left behind was an ache so strong that the potato still lay in my throat, the ability to swallow long gone.
“You’ve been coming here, looking for me?”
The more questions I asked, the longer I would keep this conversation going. What I should have done instead was gotten up and left. But, if he told me how he’d found me, I could make sure it didn’t happen again.
“No.”
I made the mistake of looking at him a second time, and the mix of emotions that hit me was even stronger than the last.
Why had I gotten myself in this situation? How could I let this pain continue to erupt inside my chest and eat the hell out of me?
He was a stranger. Nothing more. Yet he was causing a misery so deep, I didn’t know if my legs had the strength to carry me out of here.
“Then, how did you know I was here?” I whispered, the loudest my voice would go.
He turned his head straight, ate his popcorn, and sipped his beer.
Now, he was ignoring me? He had come all the way here, and he had nothing to say?
I looked back at my burger and fries. I couldn’t even stare at them anymore without my stomach churning. The only thing I wanted was the beer. That had the ability to calm me down and take some of this ache away. But I wanted him to answer me, too. It didn’t matter what he said. I just wanted to hear his voice again, to feel his words, to know they were directed at me. To bask in his attention since this would be the last time I’d ever get it.
When I tried to reach for my mug, my hands wouldn’t work. They were shaking too badly. My knuckles were locked, as if I had arthritis.
I needed a second, and I needed some air.
And I didn’t want that air to be filled with him.
So, I got up from the stool, waiting for the feeling to return to my legs, and I rushed into the restroom.
I stared at myself in the mirror above the sink. It was the rawest I had ever looked. The most emotional I’d ever been without tears, without spit, without wrinkles edged in my face from all the crying. I couldn’t cry, not about this. Because it wasn’t just sadness that consumed me. It was so beyond that. It was pain. Like Mina had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart, stopping it from beating. She was taking away my ability to care about someone, to grow feelings. She was shutting me off and never allowing me to open again.
It hurt so fucking bad.
The longer I gazed at myself, the more it reminded me that I was no longer in control of my life. That Mina was. That I had to get out of here before I spent any more time with him, before I made the biggest mistake that I would regret f
orever.
As I turned to go back into the bar, a pair of hands slipped around my waist.
I gasped from the feel of him.
I gasped again because his touch felt so amazing.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I said.
“Maybe, but I know you don’t want me to leave.”
I moved more to face him. When I did, I felt my throat start to close again. “I need you to go. Or I’ll go. But one of us has to leave.”
“I know that isn’t what you want, Tyler.”
He leaned down, and I turned my cheek, so he would miss my lips. His mouth landed on my neck. He stayed there, halfway between my jaw and collarbone, like he was breathing me in. I felt my pulse hammer underneath him, my heart throbbing, my stomach sparking to the point where it was fluttering between my legs.
“Tell me to stop, Tyler.” His hands moved higher, clipping me right under my ribs. Then, he slowly raised his lips toward my ear. “Say it before I fucking devour you.”
Where was my voice?
I knew I shouldn’t be in this restroom with him. I shouldn’t have allowed him to touch me. I especially should have banned his lips from coming anywhere near me.
“She’s been breaking some of our rules, and I have zero tolerance for that.”
I couldn’t get Mina out of my head.
Since my meeting at her house, none of the girls had seen Sadie. She had moved out of her apartment and wasn’t answering her cell. Someone had said they thought she had moved back home. Another had mentioned she had gone to one of the islands in the Caribbean. Wynter had said nothing about it, but I knew the warning she had given me long ago, and that never left my mind.
Had Sadie cut all contact and really moved away? Or was she dead?
The unknown terrified me.
I knew all it would take was for someone to see me with Jae, and Mina would be calling in each of the girls to question them about me. Then, what would happen?
God, this was the scariest thing I’d ever gone through.
“Stop!” I shouted right before he kissed me. I tried to move back to put some space between us, but he wouldn’t let me. “I’m so afraid.” I shouldn’t have admitted that to him.