Dusty & Daddy

by Savannah May

  A car door opens, parked right beside mine. Thank, god. I whirl to face it, thinking Killian must have a new car.

  Fuck.

  “Just leave me alone Brandon,” I shout. How could I have failed to notice my ex parked too close to me?

  “I want some answers, Dusty,” he barks. He never uses my proper name. I hate that.

  “I've told you already, time and again.”

  “You haven’t given me a reason,” Brandon insists, coming closer to me. “I want the truth.”

  He's crossed the few steps between us and is looming over me, his jock body bulky enough to scare me a little, especially when he takes hold of my arm. Like I'm some kind of fucking possession he can pull around whenever he wants.

  “I told you it's over,” I snap, snatching my arm away from him.

  “Just like that? Why?”

  “Because it's just not there between us.” Zero chemistry.

  “Since when? Since he got out? Killian fucking Jones, the douchebag. He looks like shit now, you know.”

  “You saw him? When?” Where?

  “Yeah, sitting in Starbucks like a loser. He ain't your movie star step-dad anymore. He won't be laying his filthy hands on any more girls half his age.”

  “At Starbucks, he was there? Which one?”

  “Don't get any fucking ideas, Dusty.”

  “Mind your own fucking business.”

  I wonder what he said to Killian about me. About us. Not that there is an us. There never was.

  “You aren't allowed to be anywhere near him,” Brandon grumbles.

  I pull out my keys and hit the remote to unlock the car. We're done here.

  “Dusty, please give us another chance.” His voice changes from domineering to whiny which I hate on both counts.

  “I'm sorry, but no,” I tell him.

  Please, I'll do anything. What went wrong between us?”

  “You had Killian put in jail. You should never have repeated something I told you in confidence.”

  “He should never have been in bed with you, the old douchebag.”

  “You betrayed my trust.”

  I wasn’t gonna let him touch you. Get in bed with you again.”

  “I wanted him there,” I scream out the truth at last. “I begged him to come to me, pleaded with him to fuck me.”

  I don’t enjoy the crushed look of disbelief on Brandon's face but it's time I gave him some honesty. The realization dawns on him and anger replaces the smug control on his features.

  “So I was a substitute? 'Cos you couldn’t screw your father.

  “He's not my dad. He was only ever my mother's husband in name.”

  “You used me to make him jealous enough to give you what you wanted. It should have been you that went to jail. You're fucked up Dusty, you need help.”

  No I only need love.

  And I need it from a real man.

  The only man that's ever existed for me.

  I get into my car and drive away before Brandon sees the tears stinging at my eyes. I can't believe Killian isn't here. I was so positive he'd be waiting for me. I saw the hooded lust in his eyes. I felt his heart pounding the blood through his veins. The iron rod bulge in his pants as I swayed on his thigh. He can't pretend he doesn’t want this as much as I do.

  He's always wanted it because it's meant to be. As inevitable as the sun coming up. He calls it crazy but I say he's crazy to insist on denial. Real love, real desire cannot be forced out. The harder you try to repress it the more ferociously it returns.

  Shit.

  I swerve the steering and the wheels squeal as I just miss hitting a car coming toward me. Facing another night knowing that Killian doesn't feel the same strength of passion makes me question my whole existence. What gives me purpose now without his love to hold me up?

  Chapter NINE

  Killian

  I'm waiting right at the door for Dusty Rose to emerge. Hidden in a side entrance so that no one observes me, but as close to the door as I dare, my eyes gouging at the entrance, willing her to emerge. As soon as she steps out, I'm picking her up and getting her far away from this shit hole.

  My blood is fucking boiling through every vein, my dick still bolt solid with crazy fucking lust for her. I'm completely thrown out of whack by the first sight of her delicious body. Geez-us she's grown into a woman built to send men wild.

  My fists are clenched so tight I can't inhale. The image of hundreds of the fuckers getting to stare at her naked tits and bare ass every night makes me turn and fist the door behind me. The metallic burst of pain gives me a brief respite from the anger threatening to catapult me over the edge.

  Blood rises through the grazes across my knuckles but the fire quickly reignites. Nothing will quench this need until I see Dusty Rose again.

  When she comes out I'm going to tear that stupid silver bob wig from her head and let her glorious rose gold hair tumble down her back. Dusty rose golden locks I'd like to fist in both hands and drag back to reveal her neck to my mouth, her uplifted perky tits.

  Fuck, stop thinking about her gorgeous tits.

  The fact that I want to mound that firm soft flesh in my grasp until she writhes and begs me to fuck her is irrelevant. I can't ever pull the tight pink buds into my mouth and hear her moan my name. It's a filthy forbidden need I have to keep buried.

  She emerges from the club at last, tentatively looking all around. She seems to be eagerly searching for someone and that can only be me. This is so wrong, but I can't stop myself. Dusty Rose and I have boarded a train that's riding a set of rails we cannot control.

  I'm about to step out of the shadows and pull her into my arms when she suddenly darts across the lot. A car door opens and some dude's climbing out. Obviously waiting for her as well. Should I go to her, make sure he isn't here to hurt her? There were enough fucks staring at her perfect little body inside the club. One could have come out of there with the wrong idea.

  I hold off an instant longer. Just to be sure.

  Lucky break, because I see it's her douche boyfriend getting out of his car to speak to her. They're talking pretty intensely. Maybe about me?

  Is he warning her that he's sure I'm a stalker, waiting for her in whatever mall she might come to? Does he know I was at the club tonight? That she stripped almost naked for me while her soaking pussy clamped my thigh?

  Their voices are raised but not loud enough that I can hear the context. I can tell that Brandon is an asshole idiot though. My blood is already searing my veins at the way he's speaking to her. Shouting and yanking her arm like he owns her. They may be dating now but shes mine. She's always belonged to me. She always will and when he grabs her arm and pulls her to him, I'm almost across the lot to tear him limb from limb.

  I learned a bit about violence on the inside. I know how to take care of what's mine. How fucking dare he pull her around like that? She needs to be treated like a princess, cared for and caressed. He touches her like that once more, I'll be at her side in a second. And he'll be howling on the ground.

  They talk seriously for a moment, their voices calmer. Then Dusty Rose's pretty features contort with emotion and I hear her say the words; “Fuck me.”

  Then she gets in her car and drives away.

  Fuck.

  Was that a request? I couldn't hear the rest of the sentence. I'm terrified of losing her and I can't make a dash to my bike with Brandon still here. I'm a fucking rat in a cage and it makes me want to claw my fucking skin off.

  When the douche gets in his car and follows her, I know my chance has passed. Every bone wants to hop my bike and take off after her. We need to talk. I need to look at her, feel her close. But it seems clear he came to meet her from work. They're probably convoying back to her place, or his, to spend the night.

  I know that's how it should be. Dusty Rose should be with a guy her own age, at least free of the fucking problems our love has already caused in her young life. But it rips me up in pieces. And not only because
Brandon is in no way good enough for her.

  I want to go after her but if it's true that I ruined her life, I don't need to cause her any more hassles. The other girls emerge from the club now and the one that waited on me first, gives me a strange look on seeing me lurking in the shadows like a criminal. A night stalker.

  Fuck, this is insane. Crazy making.

  I stride over to my bike and throw my leg over. Taking off at a clip while the woman stands and watches.

  It's late when I get back to the crappy studio I rented. I head straight to the shower, tearing my clothes off and dropping them where they fall. I turn the water as hot as I can stand and let it pour down my head over my abs and thighs. My dick is a fucking beacon, pumping straight at me. My powerful ab rack flexing with need.

  I take my wood in my hand and with the image of Dusty Rose's perfect high tits in my mind it takes less than a minute for the searing hunger to explode from the tip. I groan and spasm, my thighs shaking as I remember her grinding the length of me. Then I turn the cold full on.

  After, I strap the towel around my taut hips and pick up my pants from the bedroom floor. Before I know what I'm doing, I bury my face in the leg, inhaling the divine aroma of Dusty Rose's luscious juice steeped in the fabric.

  I sleep in fits and starts. Waking up with Dusty Rose in my thoughts and my dick a burning fucking iron rod on my stomach. What's it gonna take to get this girl off my mind?

  As soon as it's light, I head out to a drive-through for coffee then to a realtor. By the end of the day I have a furnished luxury apartment in a doorman building rented, in the best fucking neighborhood in the city.

  I should stay away. Far away. But around midnight, I can't do anything but return to the club where Dusty Rose works.

  I tell the beefcake I want a table in Star's section and he gives me a filthy leer I'd like to smack off his face. I don't dare look across to the bar, searching her out. My heart is already fucking hammering in my ribs and taking a breath is agony.

  I sit motionless with my hands gripping my thighs until I feel a delicious soft finger soothe the tension at the back of my neck.

  “I was hoping you'd come.”

  Chapter TEN

  Dusty Rose

  I almost come undone when his hand wraps around the back of my leg and slides so lightly all the way up my thigh that goosebumps trail a path behind.

  He hasn't said so much as 'Hallo' and his eyes hold mine caged and immovable as his huge firm palm curves around to cup my bare ass cheek and squeezes, smoothly, evenly. I tremble as the powerful pressure increases around my flesh filling his hand, then gulp down as the solid tips of his fingers dig in so that my lips are dragged apart and the cool air makes my pussy clench.

  My breath comes in huffs and my nipples rise in response and bud tightly, so tight I need to pinch and tug at them. I need him to.

  “This is impossible. It's fucking insane.” he grits out.

  I shake my head the tiniest indication of disagreement. Then my eyes flick away to Nero, frowning and about to head over and wrap us up. He keeps a close eye on the private dances and I'm relieved about that. Except now all I want is for him to butt out and let me do whatever Killian desires.

  His breath quickens as my pussy lips spread open under his hand. I wore my tiniest panties tonight, praying he'd come find me again. His hand still grips around my cheek, his fingers not even an inch away from my pulled open slit.

  I shiver until my skin tingles with yearning for him to slide inside my slickness. My eyes snap across to the bouncer again. Killian picks up on my nervousness and yanks out his wallet. The cold vacancy from his hand leaving my ass makes me shudder.

  He pulls out the bills and sticks three hundred dollars into my waistband.

  “Does that buy me a few minutes with my baby girl?” he growls.

  I nod very fast. I'm not the shameless little vixen I was last night. Lying awake through the dark hours, incensed and pained that Killian didn't want me, has me shaking as I climb onto his thigh. Again encasing his hard muscle in my soft flesh, I gasp as my swollen clit presses down into the solid flexing mass.

  His hand comes up to trail down the sensitive side of my neck. He keeps my eyes fixed in his intently, never letting them wander as I shudder under his two finger touch. His hand brushes along my shoulder and slides the bra strap off. Just his touch on my neck, my shoulder brings me close to unraveling. I reach behind to unhook my bra and set my tits naked.

  “No,” he grits out.

  “I need to,” I moan.

  “I don’t want these fucking assholes looking at you, baby.”

  My clit is throbbing with agony against his leg and I'm so wet I've soaked right through my underwear and his pants. I pump my hips the smallest amount, our gazes fixed one to the other until we're both panting out hitched breaths. I'm too intoxicated with need for him to think about the crowded room of horny dudes surrounding us.

  “Let me see you,” I mewl, starting to shudder with pre-climactic little bursts just from the tiny movement. His hard thigh muscle ground against my slit has me close to delirious.

  “We cannot see each other,” he says with a look of complete agony.

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Because I need to see you and I don’t give a shit if they send me back.”

  “You could have seen me last night. I say with a pout of my lips that has him mesmerized. “All of me.”

  I run my tongue across the lower, full swell and he looks like he's about to devour me. His breath is ragged and he's too busy struggling to control himself to be able to answer

  His cock is a massive bulge straining at his pants. It looks freaking enormous, like a beast trying to break loose from a cage. My nipples grow taut with hunger to wrap my pout around his huge pole. To trail my tongue along its cashmere length and lick up his all-man flavor.

  “We can't,” Killian finally hitches out. His breathing a husky rasp that's so freaking sexy.

  He shakes his head and I tip mine down so our foreheads are touching, our breaths mingling. As the song comes to an end and there's a brief lights out moment, I brush my lips against his. It's not allowed, kissing the customers, so I hope Nero didn't see but the urge was too powerful. I'm hoping I get fired, so Killian will have to take me home with him and look after me.

  “It isn't possible,” he burrs in a rasp. “There's a restraining order.”

  “Not any more,” I whimper, again devastated by the problems one stupid over-reaction caused between us. It's no one's business now. “I'm all grown up. I can do what I want.”

  Please let this be true. Before what I want sends me into madness.

  The music starts up again and Nero is again on patrol. Killian takes out his wallet, sticks another bill into my waistband. But he looks so unhappy I almost shed tears.

  “No, Angel.”

  I want to stamp my foot but the thrust through my pussy on his thigh would make me convulse into climax right in front of everyone. How can he not want this as much as me? I see his eyes half-lowered with lust, his breath coming in fits and starts, small beads of sweat on his forehead, lit up by the stage-lights.

  There is no way I'm letting him off. Not now I have him where I've always dreamed.

  The music is a particularly slow sexy beat, pumping and erotic, a woman's voice moaning in the background. I stand up astride his thigh and his eyes flash with anger as I reach around to unhook my bra. Now our stares are locked in a battle of passionate will. I hold the tiny wisp of fabric so it clings to my nipples which are sticking out like coat-hooks, hungry to be bared.

  My pussy is soaked through with my juices, craving the heat from his quad muscle infusing my lips. I can't take this any more. This thing between us has to be resolved or I'm going to lose my reason.

  My legs stretched around his, my pussy parted, so close to his face. I see him starting to come apart.

  “Touch me,” I say.

  I need his hands on me.

>   He shakes his head no when every part of him says yes.

  “You don't have a choice,” I say.

  His jaw sets and starts to flex. I stroke my fingers along the length of it, teasing, laughing. He can't put his hands on me. Not with Nero watching. He can't do a thing. Only I can. Whatever I want. I see his cock start to twitch ferociously as it bulges in his pants.

  I know he wants to bury his glorious rock hard prick into my starving pussy. I stroke his scratchy face again, the stubble making me tingle with lust. I want that rough chin grazing my clit, soaked in my juices.

  “Touch me,” I beg him.

  It's not allowed. The clients are only permitted to touch us in a private room that costs an absolute fortune. If he touches me he'll have to take me there.

  “Touch me.”

  Chapter ELEVEN

  Killian

  I should tell Dusty Rose that her boyfriend warned me off and that's why we didn't get to talk last night. Not because I walked away from her. I know how that sends her into a tailspin. But it's fucking impossible to focus with her perfect fucking round tits bobbing so close to my lips.

  The nipples have puckered into tight little buds I need to nip and lick. Her body is unbearably perfect, firm and round like a succulent fruit.

  “I can't come anywhere near you,” I bite out. “This isn't a game.”

  She gives a little pout and bites the corner of her mouth. The movement of her lips has me in a trance.

  “Still as strong,” she whispers, her tiny hands palming my biceps. “You've been working out lots.”

  “Not much else to do where I've been,” I gnarl.

  Except think of you night and fucking day. Lying in my bed, stroking my ravaging dick and imagining you impaled on it almost like you are now. But I can't do this. This is a one way ticket to hell with no return.

  “Touch me.”

  “No.”

  She tilts her head to one side with a tiny glare in her eyes. Then she slides the fingers, that are rotating and pulling her nipple, down over her flat tummy. She draws my eyes along behind like a magnet trailing metal filings, to the point where her fingertips hook around the silver string and pull it to one side so her juicy soaked pussy is spread naked for me.