by K. L. Savage
“I made a good looking kid, didn’t I, Ross?” Tom asks his right-hand man. “Go on, feel her. I need to know what I’m going to be getting paid for when she’s out of here.”
I struggle against him to try to get away, but Tom is stronger. Part of me wonders if he’s my real father. Where I have blue eyes, both of my parents have brown. I have blonde hair where they have black. My skin is an olive complexion, and they are pale as the moon.
“I’m not going to be able to win the election with her drug-ridden pussy being clean.”
He talks about me as if I’m not even here, hanging by the strength of his fingers.
Ross flicks my nipple and groans as he cups my breast. I whimper, tears forming in my eyes when I realize what’s about to happen. I gather as much spit as I can and spew it at him. “Don’t touch me.”
Ross backhands me and then shoves his hands down the front of my sweatpants. “I bet you’re still as tight as I remember. I bet you don’t remember screaming around my cock, do you, Sunnie? You fucking loved getting drilled.”
He’s right. I don’t remember. I was always too high to know what was going on. I just remember waking up, cursing when I saw myself naked and with dried cum between my legs. I never knew how many men took me, but I do know one thing—my addiction is Tom’s fault. When my mother died, he gave me heroin to try, and I got hooked.
I wanted more. Needed more.
He would say I’d have to fuck the men who brought it to me if I wanted it without a fee.
So I did.
I was a whore.
Something I’ve yet to truly come to terms with. No woman wants to admit she was a slut; hopping from dick to dick to get that hit was worth all the pain and suffering.
None of my past made my addiction worth it.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot that you fucked Ross. Is there anyone you haven’t slept with in Vegas, Sunnie?”
“Just you,” I snarl and lean forward against the grip he has on my throat. I’m no longer afraid of what he can do to me. He’s taken everything from me.
Tom pushes Ross away, and his hand jerks out of my sweatpants. Tom slams me on the bed, cupping my left breast and licking the side of my neck. “We can fix that, Sunnie. Is that what you want? You want your daddy’s cock? All the others not good enough for you?”
“You’re fucking disgusting to threaten that to your own—” He muffles my words by throwing a hand over my mouth, and his knee presses between my legs while his upper body holds me down.
I fight, strain, and try to push him away, but it’s no use.
“Don’t even say you’re my daughter when we both know the chances of that are slim. Your mom was another whore, just like you. And even if you were, what’s so wrong with me getting a taste of what I’ve let everyone have?”
I close my eyes and sob when his hand outlines my torso, curving around my breast and drifting lower. I know this is it. He came to see how much I’ve healed, to see if I’m ready to get back to work.
Lawyer by day.
Secret pimp by night.
A loud pounding at the door and the jiggle of the handle has me blowing out a relieved breath from my nose. “Sunnie? You in there?” Pirate’s voice has Tom turning his head from my neck and staring at the door.
“Fuck,” Tom says, scurrying off me. He straightens his tie, and Ross brushes off his blazer, getting the wrinkles out.
I sit up quickly and curl in on myself, laying my chin on top of my knees.
Tom points a finger at me. “You better fucking act like nothing happened. Do you understand me? I’d hate to have to kill you. I’ve invested too much in you. Understand?”
“Yes,” I say.
“Good.” He tilts his chin to his chest and readjusts his erection so it isn’t as noticeable. Ross does the same to his.
I fucking hate them. I wish they were dead. I’d be free if they were no longer in my life.
Ross walks toward the door, unlocks it, but he doesn’t have time to twist the handle before Pirate is busting through it, chest heaving and eyes wild.
The gray irises are flashing with the threat of a storm, ready to leave a path of destruction.
“Wow, guy!” Tom laughs, pulling Ross back by his suit jacket just before Pirate slams against him. “I’m Tom.” My ‘dad’ reaches a hand out, and Pirate stares at it with a untrusting expression and an arched brow.
He glares at Ross, checking him out, then Tom, and then Pirate’s eyes land on me. I try to give him a reassuring smile to let him know I’m okay, but I’m not.
I’ll never be okay.
Pirate isn’t a dumb man. He knows something is wrong. He slaps Tom’s hand away and points toward the door. “I think you need to get the fuck out,” Pirate warns.
“I’m just visiting my daughter,” Tom says, eyeing Pirate up and down, noticing he’s in the same clothes as I am. “A threat coming from … let me guess … an alcoholic? I’m shaking.”
“You should be,” Pirate says, a sardonic gleam in his facial structure has me cowering against the wall. Tom and Ross take a small step away from Pirate. He’s intimidating. Over six-feet-three, and he has to stare down at the men who came into my room to take advantage of me. “You have no idea the kind of people I run with, Tom.” Pirate sounds out his name in an unimpressed, boring tone.
Tom and Ross break apart and walk around Pirate. “And you have no idea what I’m capable of.” Tom takes a step toward me, and Pirate places a hand on Tom’s chest. My dad looks down at Pirate’s hand, and Ross reaches into his inner suit pocket. “Get your fucking hands off me,” Tom seethes.
“Get the fuck out of this room. You aren’t touching her.” Pirate does the one thing he shouldn’t. He pushes Tom toward the door, and Ross pulls out a gun, the barrel pointed to Pirate’s head.
I stand, but without looking back, Pirate holds out a hand to stop me from coming closer to him. Pirate laughs maniacally and crowds the two men until they have to take a step backward toward the exit. Pirate presses his forehead against the gun, smiling at Ross, and the gun trembles in his hands.
“You think death scares me? Go ahead, pull the trigger. Do it,” Pirate urges, and Ross cocks it.
“Pirate.” His name is hidden beneath the knots in my tongue as I try to stop him from getting himself killed.
“Do it,” Pirate continues, staring in the dark tunnel of the barrel. “Do what alcohol couldn’t.”
Ross isn’t the kind of man to hesitate to pull the trigger. I’m waiting for Pirate’s head to explode and blood to spray everywhere.
In a quick move, Pirate breaks Ross’ wrist, bending it back until Ross’ knuckles touch his arm. Pirate takes the gun and shoves it between Ross’ lips. “Get the fuck out of here before I fuck your throat with your own weapon, and when I unload, it will be bullets pooling in your stomach.” Pirate kicks Ross in the stomach, and Ross grunts, tumbling back until he hits Tom.
When they are in the hallway and I can no longer see them, I fall to the bed and let the fear rain down my cheeks. My entire body shakes. I can’t stop shivering. If Pirate hadn’t come in…
“I’m going to be keeping this, but you can take the ammo.” The clip slides out of the gun, and bullets clank to the floor.
“You just signed your death warrant. This isn’t over,” Tom threatens, his voice bouncing off the cement walls.
“I hope it isn’t. It’s been awhile since I’ve given a shit to fight for something. Bring it, asshole.” Pirate slams the door in Tom’s face and locks it. I watch as he stuffs the gun in the back of his pants and then tightens the strings up front, tying the knot tighter so the gun doesn’t slip into his sweats. When his eyes meet mine, recognition registers in his eyes, and he rushes toward me, taking my face in his hands. “Fuck, Sunnie. Are you okay, babe?” His thumbs brush over the tops of my cheeks, and he lifts my head so he can get a better look at me.
His eyes are amulets on fire, tight rings threatening to burn anyone who gets too close. I want to r
isk it. Will he hurt me if I get too close, or is his heat something I can handle?
“He hit you.” His fingers are gentle for a man who just stared down a gun. I expect his need for blood to hurt in his touch, but the calloused pads are a kiss against the bruised flesh. “I should have shot him when I had the chance.”
“I’m glad you came when you did.” I close my eyes, compelled by him, and I gravitate to his hand. So safe. I bite my lip to keep a sob trapped in my chest and grip his arm for dear life to tug him closer.
“I’m here, babe. I’m here. You’re okay.” He heaves me into his embrace, and one hand cups the back of my head to keep me pressed against his shoulder. “You’re okay,” he repeats.
“Patrick.” I clutch his shirt in my fists and inhale. I never thought the fragrance of a bar of soap could smell so good. I guess it all depends on the man wearing the freshly showered scent.
“I need you to tell me what happened. Who were those guys? I know he isn’t your father. Tell me everything.”
“No.” The last thing I want him to know is the truth.
He draws back, his whiskers scraping against my flesh, and his hands fold across my cheeks. Pirate treats me like delicate linens, a soft fabric he’s afraid to tear or wrinkle from his touch. I wish he’d treat himself with the same delicacy. He deserves it.
“Anything you say will not have me turning away. I’m here, regardless of the bad shit in your life.” His eyes lock on the bruise against my cheek, and it has me becoming self-conscious, so I turn away. “Don’t,” he says, forcing me to look at him. “I want to remember your face the next time I see them because I won’t be so forgiving. I can tell my MC about them. Are those guys trouble? Can I help? Tell me,” he urges, holding my face a bit tighter when I don’t say a word. He isn’t hurting me. Pirate is desperate for me to tell him something, anything, but I don’t want to.
I’m too afraid if I do, I’ll never see him again. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
His mouth parts, and his hands loosen, dropping to his lap. He stands, and his shirt stretches against his chest, his nipples tight and peaking against the material. He’s a dangerous creature, the kind that haunts the darkness to keep me awake at night.
“I can’t.”
I know he can’t. It’s why I said what I said. I’m not about to throw myself out there and get nothing in return from him. “You can’t be the savior and not expect to get saved, Pirate.”
“You think that’s what this is about? I’m not your goddamn savior, Sunnie. I’m the kind of guy you will wish you never met. That’s who I am.”
I crawl from the bed and stand. My bare feet stick to the cold floor as I walk toward him and lay my hand in the middle of his back. “That isn’t who you are. You’ve convinced yourself of that. Did you ever think I don’t need a savior? Maybe what I need is darker than that.”
He turns his head, and his chin touches the round muscular curve of his shoulder. He can’t see me, but I can see the defined profile of his face. Sharp jaw, perfect straight nose, and high cheeks.
A fallen angel, a man who has lost his wings, but he still holds the ability to protect when he needs to.
Before I can blink, he spins around, and I back up on instinct, my heart thumping in sync with my footsteps. My back hits the wall and he lifts his arms, the biceps flexing and tightening the sleeves of his shirt as he supports his weight on his forearms. He locks me in his dungeon, a place where only the wicked can go.
“You should be afraid of me.” He rubs his nose against mine and tilts his head to the left, the promise of his kiss keeping me on the brink of despair if I don’t get it.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“I’ll hurt you. That’s what I do to people.” Every word he speaks is a hot temptation against my lips. The energy between us crackles, and my hard nipples rub against his chest. His body heat engulfs me, and the shivering fear I felt when my dad was here thaws.
“I’ve been hurt, Pirate. You won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that,” he speaks through closed teeth.
“I do know. You aren’t the kind of man to leave a mark on me.”
“Don’t act like you know anything about the man I am, Sunnie.” I think I hear his nails scratch against the wall, and when I look up above my head, I see he has tightened his fists.
He inches his way closer, and I stay completely still. I can’t trust myself, and the ragged pumps of air leaving my mouth make me lightheaded. I whimper when he gets closer, unable to control the desire. It’s as if he’s made his way inside my mind and has taken control.
If he doesn’t give in, I don’t know what I’ll do.
“Tell me to leave,” he says against my lips, the pillows of his mouth brushing against mine. I flick my tongue out to wet my own, and he groans when I mistakenly lick his as well. “Tell me to leave, Sunnie,” he repeats, his forehead rocking against mine. Pirate’s hand clutches my hip, squeezing to release the pent-up sexual aggression. “Tell me!”
“No.” I want the man hiding beneath the skin to come out and play. It’s time to shed the fear and give into the temptation we’ve been fighting.
He growls and tightens a hand behind my neck.
Come closer.
Edging forward, he dips his head and then inches away, unsure if he needs to close the distance between us. The dance usually grinds my gears, but this back and forth between us, this tenacious tango, is a tease. I want it to end, and at the same time, I want it to last forever.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
PIRATE
This isn’t a good idea. I need to push off this wall and walk away. I should do right by Sunnie and leave her be. I’m not the man I need to be for her, not yet, and I’m not sure if I ever will be. Having her by my side through this dark time in my life is selfish. She doesn’t deserve to be with a guy like me.
We have too much shit to overcome. If two hurricanes meet, we will engulf one another, creating destruction of epic proportions.
And yet, I can’t move away from her.
My lips are dangerously close to her mouth. The puffs of breath sliding free from her give me the similar feeling of being tipsy, yet my mind is still clear. Sunnie is the equivalent to a bottle of rum, and I haven’t had a taste.
What will happen to me if I give in? I’m fighting one addiction already, and I’m not sure if I can handle another.
Fuck it.
I smash my lips against hers at last, hard and demanding. I can feel her teeth under her lips as her mouth meets me with equal force. Our tongues lash out, striking each other like whips. The kiss is punishable as we ravish each other because we know we aren’t supposed to be doing this. Nothing good can come from two addicts being together, but feeling her mouth on mine, her body beneath me, I’m a new man.
My hands inch down the wall, and the cold painted cement blocks do nothing to cool the rising temperature of my skin. I cup her face and devour her. If there is one thing I’ve never done, it’s kiss.
I liked my mouth on a bottle more. Kissing is intimate, and I don’t get close to people, but I want to get close to Sunnie. I can feel the good in her seeping into me with every glide, every twist of her tongue against mine, and I know I’ll always want more.
And my initial thought of her lips was right.
They are as soft as rose petals. She’s velvet, and I bet she thinks I’m sandpaper with how rough I’m being with her.
Sandpaper destroys.
Velvet comforts.
But she’s the one who’s slowly grinding down the barricade I keep around me.
She’s the strong one.
I’m fucking crumbling beneath her.
I’m aching beneath my sweatpants. I’ve never experienced being so hard before. My cock is throbbing to be inside her, but I’ll ruin whatever it is between us if I do that. She is more than a piece of ass at the club.
I want to be different with her. She brings out a side in me that’s better, a part o
f me that’s been hidden beneath agony and fear. I don’t know how to approach this with Sunnie, but I can’t have her close anymore and not touch her.
The strength I’ll need to continue the torture is impossible to have.
Giving in is the best thing there is. Isn’t that what’s so great about being an addict? It’s easier to fall to your knees at temptation.
I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around me, letting my cock settle between her legs. Our sweatpants block what we really want from one another. I break the kiss for a second and both of us gasp for air. I’m about to shake the lust from my head when she tackles my mouth again, fisting the front of my shirt to pull me close.
I slow the kiss and relish in her. I’ve never felt something so good. I want to take my time. I don’t know if this will ever happen again, not if I get in my own head and push her away. Her fingernails dig into my shoulders, scratching down the planes of my arms. She uses me as her canvas to desecrate. She can cut me up any which way she likes as long as she never stops.
“Sunnie,” I say her name against her lips, hoping she hears the unspoken question in my tone. What the hell is happening to me? What is she doing to me?
My hands drop to her shoulders and drift over her chest. A moan slips free from my mouth when I cup her perky tits. They fit in the palm of my hand, as if she were made just for me.
“Patrick.” The way she says my name has my balls pulling tight against my body.
I bury my face in the nook of her neck and kiss along the lean muscle. I don’t want her to see the vulnerability in my eyes. She’s making me feel things I’ve never felt before.
It’s this unexplainable build in my chest, and it has me wrapping my arms around her, pulling her tight against me. She rocks against my cock, dragging herself along the hard shaft between her legs. I gasp, and she groans, tossing her head back to expose her throat.
I eye the field of flesh, and I strike. I don’t know what’s gotten into me, but I bite her, hard, until she’s crying out with pain and trembling in my arms. I pull away at the slight metallic taste of blood, and my eyes widen when I see what I’ve done. There’s one indentation where my teeth sank into her skin, and the flesh broke. It isn’t too deep, but it’s enough to question if I’m out to hurt her.