JAMES: A Night Of The Kings Novel

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JAMES: A Night Of The Kings Novel Page 10

by Shayne Ford


  “One more thing... It may be the hardest to do... Do it as if you like it,” I say, and she looks up at me, her hands already sliding down on me, her mouth closing around the tip.

  I watch her attentively, anticipating a reaction. A blush spreads across her face, her eyes burning like luminaries.

  She smiles, around my cock, and I’m sure as hell, my cum dripped on her tongue. She pulls me out, her hands sliding down, her fingers wrapping around the base, and then she parts her lips and darts her pink tongue out. Starting at the root, she gives my length a long lap.

  My balls draw tight.

  She runs her hand up, spreading that moisture along my shaft and then she sheathes the crown with her mouth, touching me softly, making me smile.

  “It doesn’t break that easily,” I say.

  Her eyes narrow with a grin, a come hither look sliding on her face, and I can sure come on that sight alone.

  She swirls her tongue around the crown, and I jerk my hips to fill her mouth. More blood draws to her face, more pulsing in my shaft.

  “I’m not going to be long. I promise,” I say, pushing slowly to the back of her throat.

  My ass clenches, fluid heat spinning inside my groin.

  She runs her tongue over the tip again, her mouth soft and wet and steaming hot, the sight of her lips around my dick, making is so hard to hold it back.

  “That’s good. Keep it that way,” I say as she starts bobbing her head, more confident.

  I thread my fingers through her hair, and guide her head, looking down at her, something powerful awakening in her eyes.

  Our gazes stay connected as I begin to roll my hips. Her lips glisten, her face red to her hairline, a smile inundating her eyes.

  My lip bleeds under my teeth as I push my hunger back, the need to rip her clothing off and fuck her like a savage.

  I still have a hard time to believe she’s at the other end of my cock, so fucking sweet and hot, it makes my flesh melt.

  I watch her closely as she loses her focus and awareness, swept away by the pleasure building in her body. Her eyes get heavy, and mine do too.

  She starts to make soft noises that make my groin tingle, the snapshot of her beautiful mouth wrapped around my girth tightening my balls.

  I could write a fucking book about getting sucked off.

  From the awkward blow job involving alcohol to the professional servicing. No matter the skill, the face expression is the most telling of all. It varies from glances oozing insecurity to poor attempts to mimic pleasure to clumsy posing.

  The thing is, it’s hard to feign unfocused eyes, flushed skin, and an in-trance stare. It’s hard to mimic pleasure, and there’s no more potent aphrodisiac for a man than the lust he sees in a woman’s eyes.

  Without it, the whole act becomes boring and distracting, and that’s why many blow jobs are subpar.

  She attaches her fist to her mouth and slides both of them up and down, sucking me harder as the other hand grabs my balls.

  “That’s fucking it...” I mumble, her eyes staring, drunk, at me.

  I tense and shudder, and I erupt inside her mouth, fucking her all the way until I blast my load inside her throat.

  12

  RAIN

  * * *

  He tosses his head back, intense pleasure streaming through his eyes, his hips still rocking.

  He leaves my mouth and fastens his buckle, his eyes dipping to my crotch.

  “I don’t want to fuck you here,” he says bluntly, stretching his arm out and pulling me up.

  He wraps me in his arms, runs his thumb over my lips, and kisses me. My arms twine around his neck, my body swiftly warming up as my sex begins to tingle.

  All these years, I’ve been waiting, imagining how this moment will be. Drawing pleasure from a man for the first time. I never in a million years thought it would be someone like him.

  I was curious and anxious, like everybody else, but I knew I wasn’t looking for the same kind of man my friends were.

  I never wanted sweet, soft, timid and nice. I never craved someone who’d worship me blindly.

  I always wanted a match. My match. That one man who could take me down and pull me up, burning with me all the way. The man I’d bring down as well, making him mine.

  He’s everything I’ve dreamed of, and yet I know, there’s no way he’ll ever be mine.

  He tears his lips away and takes my hand, my fingers sliding off his groin.

  “I think they’re waiting for us,” he says.

  He walks me out of the room, but instead of going back, we make a right, follow the corridor, and stroll through a few more chambers–– all looking the same, and then we reach a large office, decorated with modern furniture, metallic shelves, and a sleek glass wall.

  We stride across and enter the next room. The chamber is dark, and there are no windows. I glance around, and register, a couch, a safe and a desk located next to a small bar. A wide mirror stretches side to side, and as I look closely, I realize it’s one of those fake walls, one that lets you peek outside without being seen.

  “What is this?”

  I edge closer, my eyes widening as I gape at the panoramic view sprawling in front of my eyes. I see the stage and private booths and then I realize, this is the hidden part of Red’s, different than the main room.

  He stops next to me, his eyes rooted on what lies in front of us.

  “This is the favorite spot of the rich and powerful,” he murmurs, bracing his arm against the glass, gazing outside.

  A lot of men I’ve spotted earlier at Mrs. Gordon’s party are in this event room, half naked women accompanying them.

  Dancers wearing only glitter, hug the stripper poles with their bare legs, doing their dancing routines.

  Beautiful women wearing nothing but garters and heels sit on the men’s laps in the booths. I recognize a few bankers and several business people my dad had dealings with in the past, a couple of councilmen and the police chief. Somewhere in the background, I spot the mayor. A lot of people I know from my family gatherings.

  “Are these women paid?

  “No. These are all patrons. It just happens that this kind of men attracts this kind of clientele and the other way around. Unless cheating is made unlawful, and I wonder what man is willing to push that piece of legislation through, this is nothing but a private event with consenting adults, the men, and women connecting to their own accord. Some of them end up in the cars, the parking lot or the fuck pads scattered all over town. Some go in the back rooms, which is better than fucking in the bathrooms,” he says, calm, unfazed, his honesty salutary but hard to digest.

  My throat turns dry.

  Most of the women are not older than me, the men easily pushing fifties and sixties. And that’s not all. Most of them have wives and daughters.

  “My sister... Was she one of these women?”

  He stays quiet, and I whip my gaze to him.

  “No. She was fucking someone in my entourage,” he says, his eyes trained on the crowd outside.

  “Was she getting any money?”

  The ghost of a smile flutters across his lips.

  “I don’t know. It’s possible. Some of the guys reward good performance. They’re well off men. And sometimes paying for sex or getting paid is a turn-on, especially when you fuck someone hot.

  He glances at me, my gaze sinking into his.

  “Did you fuck her?” I ask, fearing the answer.

  He doesn’t blink or break his stare, and he doesn’t say a word.

  “Daria. Did you fuck her?” I ask, my voice demanding, yet trembling.

  “No.”

  No emotion shows in his eyes.

  “She tried to be with you, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah... she did, ” he says, shifting his gaze away.

  “How come you didn’t want her?”

  A small smile tilts his lips.

  “She’s not my style,” he says, and I wonder what his style is.

 
; Do I fit his taste? What about half of the woman working here? Are they his style? Was Daria too much of a headache for his taste?

  “Was she with more than one man?”

  His lips purse as he studies me briefly.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “At the same time?”

  “Yeah...”

  “Have Lex or Ed been with her?”

  “Not that I know of. Why is this so important to you?”

  “It’s not,” I say dryly, and turn my eyes to the event room.

  He does the same.

  “Do you have any family left, James?” I ask after a while.

  “No. My dad was my only family. He wasn’t much different than the men you see in this room. The only difference was that he had never cheated on a woman because he’d never committed to one.”

  “So you’re following in his shoes...” I murmur, glancing at him.

  “I don’t know anything else...” he admits quietly. “And life didn’t show me anything different than what I’d seen when I was growing up.”

  “How can you see anything different if your life revolves around this,” I say pointing at the orgy in front of me.

  “Hmm... You don’t understand, do you?” he murmurs. “You’re too young to understand, but you’ll learn in time. This is not confined to this room. The good you think you see in this world is nothing more than an illusion... Nothing is what it seems. It’s a lie stacked on top of another lie. If you look long enough, you can see through it. If you wait long enough, you’ll experience betrayal and disappointment. Evil has the power in this world. And evil is tenacious and versatile. It has a thousand faces. It roams freely in people’s hearts, in the little gestures they do or don’t do, in the innocent lies they tell themselves or to the others. That’s where the devil lives and thrives. It’s the dripping poison that makes them indifferent and blind and deaf to so many bad things. It teaches them not to do the right thing. It’s the small evil in good people that feeds the big evil in bad people.”

  I look at him, dumbstruck. How can he see it so clearly and yet... be exactly like them?

  “And that makes the bad people innocent?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. They can’t stop it, but those who can, look the other way.”

  “Can’t you stop it?”

  “I’m nothing. I’m not self-righteous. I don’t judge. I don’t believe in anything, That’s who I am. The world is what it is. It’s not my place to play God.”

  “You do believe in money...” I say, and he turns his eyes to me and smiles.

  “I don’t know anything else. I grew up with it. That’s all I’ve ever learned.”

  He turns to me and slides his hand on my shoulder.

  “Let’s pick up Ed and Lex.”

  “Wait.”

  He stops, and we connect eyes, and I need a moment to find my words.

  “Have you...? Have you seen my dad by any chance?”

  The light dies out in his eyes, feeding my worst fears.

  “Let’s go, Rain,” he says, gripping my arm, suddenly rushing to pull me away.

  “Oh, my God... You did,” I murmur.

  I pull my arm out of his lock.

  “Let’s go,” he barks, but I don’t move, and tears start blurring my eyes.

  “Please, James. I need to know the truth.”

  He grabs my shoulders and tilts his head down, his eyes connecting with mine.

  “There is no truth to tell.”

  “You did see him. Why can’t you just tell me?” I say, bursting into tears.

  “It’s not my place to open your eyes, Rain. You have to do it on your own.”

  “When? Tell me when did you see him?” I shout, and his eyes turn dark.

  I start sobbing so hard I almost choke, and then his arms close around me, and he holds me at his chest as I squeal and whimper, grieving over my shattered world.

  JAMES

  * * *

  She calms down as I stroke her hair, her tears still streaming down her face. Her pain flows through me as I see her heart butchered.

  “I want to go home, please,” she murmurs.

  “Okay.”

  “No. Not my home... Take me anywhere. I don’t care. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want to go there either.”

  I text Lex and then walk her out of Red’s through the back door. The night is pitch dark and quiet. I fill my lungs with fresh air and glance up at the sky. There are no stars, only soft wind bringing in clouds of rain.

  I show her to my car.

  She climbs in and slumps into her seat, still wiping tears.

  I turn the ignition on, back away and swerve onto the road. We ride in silence, her gaze wandering outside. The wind blows strands of long blonde hair over her face.

  She leans against the door, sniffing.

  To me, it’s nothing new. We live in a cruel world. Some have the luck never to see it. Not me, though. I learned this early on when my mom left my father and me for a man half her age. And then from my dad who never cared to show me his heart.

  From him, I also learned how to do business ruthlessly, and never trust women. And just to be on the safe side never get involved with the kind which I’d be tempted to trust, either.

  To me, cruelty is nothing but a fact of life. I see it each and every day. It’s like mold, sticking and growing where you expect the least. But it’s not until you see the writhing of a bludgeoned heart when you come to understand how sad cruelty is. How potent and how useless.

  A half hour later, we pull in front of my house. We get out of my car and slip through the main door.

  Moments later, we enter my bedroom. She follows me, quiet, her mind far away.

  “You can sleep there,” I say, motioning to the bed. “The staff is downstairs if you need anything. You sure you’re going to be okay?” She nods. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” I say, and pivot away from her, heading for the door.

  She grabs my arm.

  “Where are you going?” she asks, looking at me for the first time since we left Red’s.

  Her face is stained with tears. Her eyes are cloudy. She makes a step in front of me and rests her palm on my chest, my heart thudding right beneath it.

  “They wait for me at the club. I’ll be back,” I say quietly.

  “When?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Can you please come back to me?” she says, her voice soft, on the cusp of tears again.

  I stay silent.

  She pushes up on her toes, and I wrap her in my arms, our lips connecting in a kiss. She tastes like tears.

  “I’ll wait for you. Okay?” she says as I break away from her without a word and slip out the door.

  13

  JAMES

  * * *

  Close to ten, I enter the club.

  “What the hell happened to you? You look like someone dragged you behind their car,” Ed says.

  “Where is she?”Lex asks.

  “She’s at my place.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  Ed’s lips curve into a smile.

  “It’s not what you think. It’s a fucking long story. I need a drink,” I say, motioning to a girl who goes straight to the bar and comes with a new round for all of us.

  I toss mine down, welcoming the burning of the alcohol all the way down to my stomach.

  “I need another one,” I bark, and the girl scurries away.

  I light up a cigarette.

  Lex’s eyes roll over my face, observing me.

  “It’s been two hours. You care to fill us in.”

  “There’s nothing really.”

  He brings his glass to his lips and takes a sip before he sets it on the table, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

  “How long have we been knowing each other, James?”

  “Since we were six,” I say, a faint smile brushing my lips.

  “Exactly. So, don’t play coy with us. How was she?”

&
nbsp; “We didn’t...” I pause. “She’s still a virgin if that’s what you want to know,” I say, holding Lex’s eyes, stifling the grin that’s tickling my lips.

  He freezes for a moment and then his lips part, revelation rolling over his face.

  “I can’t believe it. She sucked you off,” he says.

  I look away, hiding my smirk, the memory rushing back to me.

  “How was it?”

  “Nothing to write home about,” I say dryly, slanting a cold gaze to them. They look at me suspiciously. “She’s hot like the dungeons of hell,” I finally say, grinning and their faces light up. “And different.”

  “Hmm... You might lose your head over her,” Lex says, searching my eyes.

  “In what way different?” Ed asks.

  “In the worst kind of way...” Lex murmurs. “The kind that lures you with her heart and fucks you like a goddess. And in the end, she breaks your heart. Am I right, James?”

  “Yes. You’re fucking right,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “She has no fucking idea how much power lies within her.” I put my cigarette out. “So who do we have in the house tonight?” I ask, eager to push her out of my mind.

  “Pretty much anyone who means something in this town, plus... some family...” Lex says, tilting his chin toward a table on our right, where a cute brunette straddles the lap of a young man.

  “Who the hell is that?” I ask.

  “Daria Morgan’s husband.”

  It’s four in the morning when I pull in front of my house, the headlights of my car sweeping the windows.

  My footsteps shatter the silence as I walk across the foyer and take the stairs to the second floor. I quietly push the door open, glance at the bed and slip into the bathroom.

  The water whips my skin but doesn’t wash away the tension that’s been growing in my body for the last few hours.

  I run a towel over my chest and arms and wrap it around my waist. I enter the bedroom and silently edge to the bed.

  Hair fanned over a pillow, a sheet barely clinging to her body, she lies on her stomach, asleep.

 

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