by Cheri, Ann
Marlo chuckled, “She can lick my wounds any day.”
I watched him grip his crotch, as if I needed the visual. It was hard being around men like this… Men who don’t think twice about breaking laws. My hands trembled as I considered drinking the beer they had handed me earlier. If I was lucky, maybe I could be drunk enough that Jude wouldn’t hurt me tonight…
I pushed the thought out of my head, turning away from the bottle. I’d seen what alcohol had done to my own family. My father might have been a judge, but that didn’t stop him from being an alcoholic. Maybe if he was a better father I wouldn’t have left in the first place. Maybe I wouldn’t be here…
I looked down at my feet, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down. Before I knew it, I was caught by surprise as a finger hooked over the bottom edge of my chin and pulled it upward, taking my eyes with it.
Black…
He smiled up at me on the hightop bar, gesturing toward the still-full bottle. “You know, drinking isn’t becoming of a lady.”
His voice was somehow dangerous and comforting with its light southern accent. I stared down at his vest, eyes scanning the ‘President’ badge before settling on his arm, the shoulder clearly dislocated.
“I haven’t touched it,” I replied, adding quietly “I think you need a doctor.”
“Don’t worry bout that,” Black said softly, noticing my concern, “happens all the time.”
Without hesitation, he turned toward a steel pillar against a nearby wall, slamming his body into it. His arm popped sickly back into the socket, my flesh tingling at the sight of it. Not a hint of pain on his face, Black turned back to me, reaching up and pulling the bottle from my hands. “Acre, Marlo, give me a minute with Jude’s old lady.”
Marlo chuckled as they looked at each other, stepping away. The party was clearly getting even wilder, and it wasn’t long before Black and I had the bar to ourselves. He stepped between my legs, the only man in this room so far that didn’t spend all his time staring at my cleavage. I looked into his eyes, their depths so dark and cold… And dangerous.
“What’s your name,” he asked?
“Kattlyn.”
“Course it is… Sweet innocent little Kattlyn,” he said, the deep voice rolling through my body. I felt his hand press against my thigh ever so lightly.
“Only not so sweet, or innocent,” I replied, putting on a tough face. Black’s hand slid softly up my thigh toward my hips. I felt warmth rising in my body despite all attempts to avoid it. My cheeks flushed red. Maybe it was his wide jaw, maybe it was his dark eyes, maybe it was because he’d just beaten down the one person I both loved and hated above all others…
I wanted him.
I wanted him in a way I hadn’t wanted someone since I first met Jude. I always had a thing for the bad boys, and Black was everything I should avoid. My traitorous body and wild hormones didn’t care about the warnings my brain was firing. Jude would kill me if he even thought I felt this way. He’d kill us both without a second thought. I pushed the hint of lust down, hiding it inside. The spark in Black’s eyes told me I didn’t hide it fast enough.
“You don’t belong here, Kattlyn.”
“I’m here with Jude,” I said strongly, screwing my face into annoyance.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I was born into this shit. My father started this club and I fought next to him since I was old enough to walk. It’s where I belong, it’s where fucking Jude belongs. I know it when I see it. Look at your big beautiful icy blues. Storm clouds never were so goddamned beautiful sweetheart. You’re a citizen honey. You’re a tourist. You should run away while you still can. Jude’s gonna get you into some deep shit some day. You’re a white picket fence and two kids away from suburbia.”
“You don’t know me at all,” I said, staring into his eyes as they blazed with anger. My arms instinctively moved to protect myself as Black reached up. His fingers slid over my sides and lifted me effortlessly from the bar. I winced hard as he pressed on my battered ribs, setting me down on my feet. I stared up at him, my petite 5’6” body shrinking as he stood nearly a foot over me. He was bigger like this, more dangerous, but the anger that seemed to fill him a moment ago now mixed with some kind of twisted concern.
“You can let go now…”
His hands didn’t move. He squeezed inwardly, drawing a yelp of pain from my lips. There was a puzzled look in Black’s eyes and his mouth thinned. I gasped as his hand balled into a fist, bunching my shirt and lifting it ever sos lightly. My flat tummy came into view, then my side, the red and purple marks still present. That was the mark Jude had made. Some dark part of me wanted him to keep going, to pull the shirt from me and see the marks I’d made… To know my pain and my anguish.
Or maybe I wanted him to take me for his own… His fingertips brushed against my ribs, taking note of my pain. Memories. Bruises past and present that I couldn’t forget, because I’d carved their number into my own skin. The bruises would heal like they always did, but the scars never really faded. Jude never hit me anywhere someone would see the evidence, but my body still bore the damage. Even now, I could feel the thin line at the top of my thigh. It was a dull aching memory that would be with me forever. With Black’s eyes on me, I felt suddenly as if he could feel it too. I was naked to the whole world.
“He did this to you, didn’t he?”
The anger was back in Black’s eyes, but it wasn’t directed at me.
“No… I…”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His voice shook me. I looked up, his eyes watering as he stared. Here I was, stoic and strong and not afraid of anything, and now I wanted nothing more than to Black down in this strange man’s arms. I wanted to tell him everything.
“Don’t ever lie to me. I run this club, and inside these walls you tell the fucking truth. Do you understand sweetheart?”
I nodded. Tears of my own ruining my mascara. “He doesn’t mean it… Jude loves me…”
“I’ll talk to him Kattlyn. We have rules here. We fight with honor and we only use our fists on men. This won’t happen again.”
I shuddered head to toe, falling into his chest, pressing my ear against him and listening to his racing heartbeat.
“You have my word, and around here, that is law.”
Part of me knew people must be watching. A room full of fighters and criminals and badasses. Even the girls seemed to be staring as they all judged me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Anytime sweetheart… Hang onto what’s still good in you, don’t let this place take it away. You’re too beautiful to end up damaged goods…”
The powerful hands let me go as he turned to the party. The eyes I expected to see weren’t on us, the club was enjoying their drunken revelry oblivious to our little moment. I stared at the back of his vest. ‘RAMPANT’ arched across the top, the shattered skull beneath. I could see names embroidered on each piece of bone. It made me realize something.
“I don’t know your name,” I said softly. “Your real name, I mean…”
“Marcus Black, club President,” he replied without turning around, walking off into the crowd.
“Marcus Black…” I whispered after him, my heart pounding. Something was stirring inside me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. The deepest and darkest part of me. I knew the feeling even without understanding it. Shaking my head, I turned away, pulling the beer off the bar and downing it in another long drink.
He didn’t understand. How could he? How could anyone possibly know how fucked up I really was? I wanted to deny it and hide my own nature, but at the end of the day I’m a slave to my own devilish desires…
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I stayed up later than I should have, long after most of the club was moved off into more private quarters. Some were fucking, some were passed out, and I was goddamned smashed. Meanwhile, Jude was still nowhere to be found. A big part of me didn’t care, because all I could think
about was what Black had said to me.
“Hey fuckwits, go find yourself a girl that isn’t taken.”
“Oh they’d like that,” I giggled drunkenly, turning to the new voice. Marcus Black had returned, and he seemed a little angry. Trying to move, I managed to fall into him, his arms holding me up like a marionette.
“I don’t feel so good,” I whispered into his chest, letting the big bad wolf of a man help carry my stumbling ass toward a room. “Sorry guys, gotta go!” I shouted back at Acre and Marlo. Like wolves smelling prey they’d moved in after Black left me at the bar, doing their best to impress me while pushing bottle after bottle my way.
I’m not sure why I started drinking. Marcus had seen right through my hard exterior, and I needed a way to forget.
The guys were hoping to get a little action while Jude was away… Maybe I was drunk enough and fucked up enough to let them. Jude would probably kill them if they so much as laid a finger on me, but that was their problem… We sat around laughing and chatting, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what exactly we’d been talking about. Now, with Black’s return they dejectedly eyed a few of the filthy unclaimed girls still roaming the floor. Clearly, the good ones were already taken.
“Where’s Jude?”
Black laughed, as if that was a fair answer, dragging me up the stairs and kicking open one of the bigger rooms. I collapsed into a bed without another thought, totally wiped. The room was spinning, so my leg flew off, kicking heels to the floor so I could touch my toes to the shaggy carpet. “Get some sleep sweetheart, long day tomorrow.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. The door closed and so did the light as my eyes closed, dreams taking me away. Drifting images shifted through my mind, pulling me through the darkness.
Nightmares.
Jude stood over me screaming about Marcus Black. I didn’t know how he found out about our talk, but it didn’t matter. He was going to kill me for so much as speaking to another man. His fists came down as furiously as they had on Black when he had to earn his entrance into the club. I wasn’t some badass fighter though. My face shattered, my bones broke, and my screams went unanswered.
My eyes flashed open, the sound of a crashing door bringing me back to reality. The room filled with the smell of bad whisky, and something dark fell across the bed. I rolled, my fingers brushing against the leather.
Jude’s jacket…
“I need you baby.”
His words weren’t kind, but that was nothing new. I’d grown accustomed to our less than romantic kind of love. He’d been a little more than insistent the first time we were together. I learned a long time ago to turn my brain off and let my body go through the motions… Easier to give him what he wanted than to make him take it.
“You smell awful,” I whispered as he stepped up to the bed.
“Been celebrating baby, now go ahead, why don’t you just shut up and take your shirt off.”
His belt was broken open, jeans unzipped and spread, the shaft staring me in the face as I lay back on the bed. I looked up at it, still on my back, gazing across the skin in the dimly lit room. There was a problem. My breath caught in my throat, eyes staring at Jude’s cock.
“There’s lipstick on it!”
I was furious. Anger welled up inside me like a bottled wildcat. Jude had a habit of disappearing from time to time and I always suspected he might not be faithful, but he’d never been so obvious about it. Now, he may as well be advertising his infidelity. I wouldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do this!
“I didn’t ask you to look at it. I told you to fucking suck it.”
His hands whipped through my long blonde hair, dragging me painfully toward the edge of the bed. My head fell backward off the edge, his cock lining itself up as I tried to purse my lips drunkenly. Despite everything that was wrong with this, I wanted it to happen. My body betrayed me, desperate and pleading for a little pleasure and release from the world I lived in.
“Yes… Do it,” I whispered.
I didn’t move away, Jude pressed the tip against my lips, the scent of leather and sweat pouring over me. My body started to react the way it always does. Familiar warmth burned between my legs, smoldering, an unwanted and misplaced lust I couldn’t control. I enjoyed this, in some perverse way. My body disobeyed my mind and I didn’t care. I wanted the bad boy to tell me what to do. I always had. My stomach twisted in disgust, rebelling against my instincts even as I stared up at Jude, begging him to use me. I watched his hand rise up. He was going to hit me. My body was ready. Already, I was letting go. I’d be ready to draw another little line of blood on my arm tomorrow…
His hand came back down again, stopping short of my cheek. I gasped, my mouth opening as his hips thrust forward, burying his cock deep. I wanted it… My little fucked up desires had me moaning around his thick shaft, desperate.
Jude savaged me, my cries muffled and the vibrations only driving him wilder. Hands grappled with my breasts, the heaving mounds betraying me as flames of pleasure started to course through my body. Still thrusting between my lips, his fingers traced down my body and forced their way into my pants, sliding roughly under my panties and into my folds. I moaned wildly, giving in to the sensations.
“That’s right bitch, suck it like you fucking mean it.”
I wasn’t going to stop. I was his. A toy for his amusement? A tool for his pleasure? It didn’t matter. I wanted him now as I’d always wanted him. It was easier this way. There was no fight in me, he fucked my mouth with an intensity that was impossible to deny. Closer… His hands knew me. His fingers understood what I liked, and how to take me over the cliff. Was I really this messed up? Was I really this desperate?
Fingertips were relentless on my clitoris, controlling my reaction as if I were a musical instrument even as thick ropes of his salty seed poured down my throat. I swallowed against him, exploding into an orgasm of my own with my mouth quivering around his pulsing cock.
Jude collapsed, his cock pulling free as he fell to the bed. None of this was new to me. Jude had always been rough with me. He didn’t take no for an answer on the rare occasion I tried to refuse him. I’d come to make the best of it, reveling in the darkest corners of my own mind. It couldn’t be wrong if it felt right. Could it? Just like every time this happened my mind worked its games to justify it. Still, something was different…
He hadn’t hit me.
I stared at Jude’s face as he slumped over onto his back with his eyes closed, the dim light from a small bathroom shining on his skin. Damage from the fight was evident. Stitches ran below his lower lip, and six or seven more just under the line of his scalp. Even so, he seemed worse than he had in the moments after the fight. I slipped my hands under his shirt delicately, my nails running across his chest and down to his side. The injuries there were worse. At least two broken ribs, and God only knows how many times he’d been hit.
He’d been broken, and I knew exactly who’d done it. Marcus told me he’d take care of this, and he had.
The worst part was, it made me happy…
My eyes closed, replaying the past few moments in my mind as I straddled Jude’s hips, lowering my pussy to his still throbbing manhood. My fingertips found their way to my delicate petals, spreading myself to accommodate him and dancing across my most sensitive little nub as I impaled myself. There was a difference this time around. I wanted to do this. Maybe the club was good for Jude. If Black could keep him in line, I could have my cake and eat it too… My mouth gasped as I took his cock deep, playing across the shaft with the inside of my velvet tunnel, squeezing my muscles around him, drawing it in. I’d make love to this cock, slave over it and bring it to the wildest heights. My imagination took flight, pulling away from my body. My eyes cast upward, pleading, thankful…
But when I looked down, it wasn’t Jude’s face I wanted to see. I closed my eyes, trying to shake the wicked thoughts creeping into my mind. Black had done something to bring Jude in line. He must have told him n
ot to lay hands on me… I had nothing in the world to give him in thanks. Except…
My body.
Jude moaned beneath me as I rode him softly deep into he night, but it wasn’t his cock I was imagining slipping in and out of my quivering flesh. Some say adultery in your mind is still adultery. If that’s the case, I’m guilty. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care.
And I had no desire to cut myself. Not tonight… The seduction of the blade held no sway over me.
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼
I felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
Drinking is always more fun when you’re doing it, and less fun when you’re waking up from it. Sunlight streamed in through a window and I stared at Jude, laying twisted on the bed. Purple and red covered his face arms swollen and battered.