Revealed: A Hype PR and Eye Candy Bookstore Anthology

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Revealed: A Hype PR and Eye Candy Bookstore Anthology Page 4

by Bethany Lopez


  He’s fucking crazy. “What do you want from me?” I cringe, fearing his answer.

  “It’s not what I want, it’s what you’re going to do. You have no choice, Starr. You were mine the moment I saw you.”

  He sits on the edge of the bed and runs his fingers up my leg, stopping just before he violates me. I should be grateful, but I’m not. Hunger burns in his eyes and I know he’ll satisfy it by the words falling from his mouth.

  “I’m taking you to my compound to marry you. You will do whatever I say, whenever I say and never step out line. I run that place with…certain rules and not even loving you will keep you safe, understand?”

  He pinches my nipple hard to prove his point and I scream.

  “Now, you will see many older men and women with younger partners. That’s how the compound works. You are not to judge or say anything. You and I are the only ones who are similar in age. We are expected to teach them what love is.”

  “Love? You think I can love a monster like you?”

  “I know you can. Your life depends on it.”

  I can’t. I hate him. I’d rather die than live a minute with this sick piece of shit.

  “Cannon, whatever the fuck your name is, you can’t just fly out of here with me. There are cameras all over airports. My friends will report me as missing. They may have already.”

  I’ve won. I’ve put a hole in his plan to steal me away to his compound. Thinking the word makes me feel dirty.

  Again he laughs at me, causing a pit to form in my stomach. I’ve been kidnapped by a madman.

  “You have no idea what you’re up against, Angel. Actors, athletes, fucking politicians, pay thousands to be members of my exclusive compound. No one can fucking touch me. If I want you to disappear, there isn’t a goddamn person in this world that will find you.”

  His face has morphed into the monster I envisioned in my nightmares and I know I can’t let him take me from here. I won’t survive at a place so foul.

  “I won’t go with you. I’ll scream for help. Fight you every step of the way. Try to escape every chance I get. I will never love you.”

  “Wrong thing to say, Angel.”

  Epilogue

  Walmart, electronics section, Pasadena, Maryland

  “Breaking News, the body of twenty two year old U.S. resident, Starr McNamara was found on Zipper’s Beach in Cabo San Lucas early Friday morning. She was vacationing with her friends Lacey Wade, Kellie Parish, and Christine Walker. Her friends say she met a man and was spending most of her time with him. Authorities report the name the friends gave is not in any public records. At this time her friends are the prime suspects. More to come as details become available on this story.

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Are you talking to me?” The young, I’m guessing thirteen-year-old, blonde asks me. She looks annoyed to be bothered at first, but then she sees me. Now her cheeks are flushed and she’s trying not to bite her lip.

  It’s always so easy.

  “I was talking about the girl they found in Mexico.” I point to the television on the wall.

  “Oh, yeah, so sad.”

  She has no idea what I’m talking about. She was eyeing the phones while I checked her out. Waited a while to see that she’s here alone. Took in her skinny frame and tiny breasts. She’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.

  “Need a new phone?”

  “Sorry, I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

  “I’m Declan.” I give her my biggest smile. “See, not strangers anymore.”

  She giggles as I expect her to. “Heidi. Ooh, Declan, are you Irish?”

  I’ll play the game. “No, my dad wanted me to have a strong name. Never wanted anyone to mess with me.”

  “I can’t see anyone messing with you,” she replies shyly.

  “That’s why you should let me walk you home. It’s a dangerous world out there, Angel.”

  HJ Bellus

  Chapter 1

  Being the man at the club, I get all the private parties nobody else wants. I can’t fucking complain since coming home busted up and broke. Moving back to your hometown after going bankrupt is fine torture at it’s best.

  I moved away four years ago to L.A. to start up my own graphic design business. Shit was good, really good actually. The dough was rolling in, the pussy was plentiful, and the drugs abundant. I was wanted by all the stars and my touch on the computer was superb, however, my business skills not so much.

  After my last stint at rehab, it only took four months for Prickly Puns to drain down the toilet. So, I moved back to my hometown, which is a small beach town that’s a tourist attraction and moved into my parents’ basement. My crummy day job working beside my father at his construction site doesn’t measure up to the money I used to make. Fuck, it’s not even a quarter of the dough I’m used to playing with.

  So, it’s my night job that brings in most of the dough for me. I fucking strip. My body is my empire and I’ve kept it in the best state possible. The hours at the club give me just enough of my need to feel satisfied. I snort lines of blow off of women’s pussies in the dressing room and then fuck them senseless before performing.

  The owner of the club is cool as fuck letting us men do whatever or whomever we want behind closed doors in the dressing room, however, when on stage it’s all business.

  I take one long hit off my joint and slowly exhale the smoke from my lungs. I fucking love getting high on pot and pussy. I told the owner the only hitch about coming in tonight for the private party was an extra five hundred on top and a couple whores in the dressing room.

  Two blonde women lay on top of each other on the floor making out. The hot ass on top begins to slowly grind her wet center into the other. I let out another puff of smoke and feel my high hit me hard. What I wouldn’t give to have a line to snort off that hot ass in front of me. But I’m stuck with pot for the moment being broke as fuck.

  I’ll let the two gorgeous women rub a couple out on each other until one of them goes down on the other. It’s a piece of fucking brilliant art watching her delicate tongue dart out and lick up the wetness from her partner. My vision darts to the woman laying flat on her back. Pleasure flutters across her features before she begins writhing up into the woman’s face.

  My hand is on automatic as it dips low below my waistband and brings my cock out. I take another hit on the joint with my other hand. My cock aches with need, my balls are heavy as I begin to stroke my cock. The one on her back who’s on the verge of coming makes eye contact with me. She pops open her mouth inviting me to their party.

  I shake my head side to side getting high as fuck, letting all my cares float away with my exhale of smoke. I want to watch them fuck each other while stroking myself until I nearly release and then fuck them in all their holes, letting out all my need before my show. Drugs and money aren’t my biggest addiction…sex is.

  Chapter 2

  The bridal party is bigger than I expected and I hope like fuck my playlist is long enough to entertain these women. From first glance, I can tell this isn’t the typical private bachelorette party. The victim sits front and center with a gigantic cock necklace dangling around her neck.

  My vision runs down her exposed legs from her little black dress; her legs are smooth and creamy. My cock stirs dancing to my first song. Her friends are on their feet cheering me on, but I’m hypnotized by her legs. It’s not until the middle of the song that my vision roams up to her face.

  I freeze during the sexy Rihanna song when we make eye contact. It’s clear she recognized me before I recognized her. It’s Abby. Abby McDaniels. My first love, high school sweetheart, and the only woman my heart has always belonged to.

  I hear the buzz of the party die down and realize it’s because I’m frozen like a statue on the stage. The loud sexy song continues belting out and I react after several awkward still moments. I grab for the woman nearest the stage. I know she’s not the bride to be, but I give her a lap dan
ce to take my mind off of fucking Abby McDaniels.

  I grind my hips into the squealing woman in the chair up on the stage. Let her unbutton my jeans and unzip my pants. I bend over and whisper in her ear to pull the loose jeans down. I bore holes into fucking Abby while her friend mauls me. There’s a general no touch rule, but I let it all go mesmerized by a face I never thought I’d see again.

  I give all of her friends a well-deserved dance and even a few cock strokes. The owner isn’t around here tonight and the fool running the music could give two fucks because he’s higher than I’ve ever been.

  “Bride To Be’s turn.” One of the drunk and very horny women shouts out. It’s the redhead who would no doubt suck me off tonight even though she has a huge diamond ring on her finger.

  I watch Abby freak out when she holds her hands up, signaling no. She doesn’t want me near her and it’s evident, but there’s no way in hell I’ll let her go without touching her. She ditched me for another guy and by the look in her eyes right now, she’s never had the same connection with another soul like we shared.

  She refuses to get up on the stage no matter how much shoving and convincing her friends try. Her cheeks are flushed with a beautiful shade of pink. My vision roams over her well-developed tits and amazing body. I want her so bad and it’s so wrong of me.

  I hop off the stage with the new fucking song blaring across the speakers. It’s not a stripping one, but a perfect jam to fuck to. My dick stirs to life. Not one of the other girls got my cock this hard. I look down to see it standing to life in my thong and don’t wait a moment longer before I touch her.

  My hips begin moving back and forth to the sexy song hypnotizing me. Abby sits back in her chair as if venom is spewing from my pores. I’m a dick because I enjoy seeing her in this state. The woman broke my fucking heart. I straddle her closed legs and begin grinding down on her.

  I have her trapped with no space to escape. A devious smile spreads across my face while staring down into her pools of blue eyes. Her friends don’t give in, cheering me on and screaming their enthusiasm. I don’t recognize any of them and bet they’re all out of town friends.

  I cup her cheek in one of my palms while spreading her legs with one of my mine. I grind down on her, letting her know just how excited I am to see her. Abby’s eyes dilate and her chest heaves with her heavy breathing. I know I’m getting to her and I’m ready to kick it up a notch.

  I trace my hands up her arms, bringing her to my chest until she’s up in the air wrapping her legs around my middle. I thrust up into her through our layers of clothes, making a show out of how badly I’d give anything to fuck her.

  When her hands clutch to the back of my neck my cock throbs, taking my need to a higher level. She’s engaged, taken, and so off limits, but none of that does anything to diminish my animalistic want for Abby. I’ve been with dozen of women; fucking and tasting them until they melt under me, but it’s always been her I’ve dreamt of being inside.

  I dance my way back to the stage with her in my arms and gently lay her back on the stage while a new song begins to entertain us. I shimmy her dress up right before the hint of panty line is in view. Her legs part easily for me and I bury my head in her sweet center. I make a show out of eating her out. My hand floats up her dress on the side her friends aren’t on.

  My fingers dig into the flesh of her thigh until they’re under her panty line. Abby’s head flies up when my fingers brush her damp folds. I look up to her and shake my head side to side and then press her chest back down with my one free hand. I begin licking the inside of her thigh while I roll her clit between my thumb and forefinger.

  Abby’s friends go nuts when she arches up in pleasure. The dollar bills shower me. My appetite for Abby McDaniel’s surges through my chest and cock, fueling the moment. I’ll have her.

  Chapter 3

  “Damn, that was off the chain,” the guy running the music says.

  I should know his name, but don’t.

  “Here.” I hand him a hefty tip.

  “Thanks, man.” He takes the thick stack of bills from my grip. “Going out tonight?”

  “Naw.” I shake my head.

  “Taking those hot pieces of ass again?” He waggles his eyebrows up and down.

  “Eh?”

  “The women who were in the dressing room earlier. They’re out in the parking lot waiting for you to let them in.”

  I slide into my loose blue jeans and dust some glitter from my tattooed chest.

  “No, tell them to leave. Entertain them all you want.”

  There’s a light knock on the front door and I assume it’s the whores wanting round two with me.

  “I’ll get it.”

  I have no problem telling them to go kick rocks. I swoop back my long hair and tie it up in a loose bun. The shit needs cut, but I’ve had no desire to get it done. The harsh reality of me being back in town has taken its toll on me. My hand rubs over the scruff covering my face while I unlock and push open the door, ready to tell off the whores.

  “I, uh, I forgot my purse.”

  Abby stands before me in her little black dress. She’s ditched the sash and all the cock necklaces. She fumbles with her fingers and makes little to no eye contact with me.

  “Come in,” I say, stepping aside.

  I drink all of her in as she walks by. Like wine, she’s better with time. Her tits sit full in her dress, ass toned and delicious looking while everything else is my Abby.

  My Abby?

  I let out an evil laugh.

  “Are you okay?” she asks, ducking her head and weaving between the tables.

  “I don’t think you want me to answer that.” My voice is harsh and I see her spine stiffen.

  “I’m out, man.”

  I look up to the Deejay and wave to him.

  “Everything is locked up. Make sure to check the door you go out,” he adds, throwing on a jean jacket.

  “Got it.”

  The heavy door slams. The silence is deafening, making the club damn near claustrophobic. I can’t pull my stare from her as she bends over and picks up a black wallet from the seat of a chair.

  “Did you leave that on purpose?” I growl.

  She only shrugs.

  “Abby, fucking talk to me.” I scrub both of my hands over my beard.

  “I want to see you.”

  “You’re fucking getting married.” I gesture to where her sash used to sit across her perfect tits was.

  “I know. But seeing you…” she trails off.

  “Seeing me did what, Abby?” I need to control the rage floating from my voice, but can’t seem to find the power to do so.

  “Reminded me how much I still love you.” Her voice shakes and only enrages me further.

  “Does your fiancé know this?”

  “Quit being an asshole.” She throws her wallet back down on the chair. “You’re the one who just had your fingers inside me and no, Jason doesn’t know.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Jason Cordell?”

  She nods. It seems to be her easy way of answering my questions.

  “The man you left me for?”

  She nods again.

  “And you have the fucking nerve to tell me you still love me after nearly eight years.”

  She doesn’t respond with a nod this time, but leaps into me. Her arms wrap around my chest, her tits pressed against my still bare chest, her lips are on mine kissing the fuck out of me. The anger slowly fades with each nip of her mouth on my sensitive lips and then the only thing left in me is the need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of the woman who still owns my heart.

  I pull her tighter to me, cupping both of her ass cheeks in my palm and growl into her open mouth. The thin layer of her dress is too much between us. I need it all. My hands creep underneath her dress until her bare ass is in my palms.

  Curiosity gets the best of me and I need to see these little panties or whatever she has on. I push Abby back a step and slowly drag her dress
up over head and stare back at the plush pink lacy bra and thong she’s in. I growl out of control and heave back onto a tabletop. My actions are harsh, but I handle her gently.

  “Brett,” she moans out trying to perch herself up on her elbows to look at me.

  “I’m going to eat and fuck you like I’ve never done to anyone before.” I loop a finger in her thong. “You’ll be so goddamn sore you won’t be able to sit for days. I’m taking it all.”

  In one quick movement I tear her thong from her body. Her eyes widen when the sound of the tearing fabric fills the club. Abby’s pussy is dripping for me and I haven’t touched her in a good hour or so. My eyes flare to life seeing the art before me. She reaches out, stroking lines along the piece across my chest.

  “You’re gorgeous, Brett.” She stares at all my ink.

  “But never good enough for you.”

  “You were always good enough for me.”

  “Your parents didn’t think so and you gave in.”

  “I’m sorry. So sorry, Brett. Don’t hate me.”

  I flash her the meanest face possible, not giving her any hint that her words are fucking shattering me. This is probably one of the worst ideas I’ve ever had. I will never be able to get enough of this woman and when she walks out the door, she’ll be leaving behind an even more tortured man than I am already.

  “Fuck it,” I whisper, bending down to kiss the top of her knee.

  I run hard kisses down the inside of her thigh. The prickly hairs on my beard leave behind a red rash and I love it. I’m going to mark Abby McDaniels. When I reach her center, I take a long lap of her sweet pussy then swirl my tongue around her bud. It’s the fucking nectar of the gods.

  My fingers join the party, gliding up and down her folds before I insert one inside her. She yells out my name with the action so I take her clit into my mouth, sucking on it lightly while adding another finger inside her. Abby pulls on my hair while bucking up to join me.

 

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