by B. B. Hamel
“Work, girl,” I grunted. “Work for my fucking cum.”
She moaned, panting, riding my thick cock. I could feel it coming close as she worked her hips, sliding up and down faster and faster.
As my orgasm began to tear through my body, she threw her head back and moaned my name. I knew she was coming again, knew she was taking my cum while her whole body shook from the orgasm.
It was one of the most intense things of my life. Slowly it finished, and she slid off my cock. We collapsed onto the couch together, breathing deeply and sweating.
That was not what I had expected. It was better than I could have ever imagined, and although my cock had been out of her pussy for only a few seconds, I needed to feel her again.
This was fucking stupid. I knew who she was and what game she was playing. I knew she wanted me to feel this way, wanted me to tell her all my secrets so that she could write some fucking hit piece on me.
But she wasn’t getting that. I was going to get what I wanted, and that was it.
I pulled her body close against mine, breathing in and out with her, and wondered if I was just lying to myself.
13
Charlotte
I woke up slowly, a dull ache between my legs. I rolled over on the couch and expected to feel Bull’s broad, tough body against mine, but there were only pillows.
I opened my eyes. The early morning light was streaming in through the window. I sat up, rubbing my eyes.
I slept through the night. How could that even have been possible? I probably slept for like twelve hours or something insane like that.
“Bull?”
I got up off the couch and walked through the apartment.
He was gone.
I sighed and made some coffee. I didn’t know why I felt surprised, but I did. For some reason, I had expected to wake up to him still there. The last thing I remembered was lying on the couch with Bull, his arms around me, breathing deeply as we both drifted off to sleep.
But there I was, alone in my apartment. Bull had left me with nothing but good memories and an ache between my thighs.
I wandered into my bathroom and did my morning thing. When I was done, I went into my bedroom to get changed.
And paused, blinking. There on the bed was a single piece of paper, folded in half.
I quickly walked over and snatched it. I opened it up and read.
“Charley, I had a good time last night. Sorry I couldn’t stay, but you were snoring too loudly. I grabbed that dildo, just like you wanted me to. Bull.”
I shook my head and read the letter again, and then I quickly looked around my room.
The dildo was gone, and there was no way he didn’t notice that I had it lying out right next to my bed.
I turned bright, bright red. Bull knew I had been playing with his dildo. He probably thought that I had actually, like, used it!
I mean, I almost did use it, but he didn’t need to know that. He was basically the last person I wanted to know that information. I would rather have yelled it from my roof than have Bull find out.
I collapsed onto the bed, groaning. Bull had gotten up before me, gone into my bedroom, and stolen that dildo away.
And he had given me the best orgasm of my life by far. Best orgasms, actually.
I covered my face with a pillow. How could this have happened? I kept meaning to keep my distance from him, but he was just so imposing, so intense. As soon as he kissed me, I knew I was his.
And he took me. I’d never been with a man like that before, so rough and incredible. He knew exactly how far to push me, but he never went too far. I was losing my mind as soon as he began to work my body, working my hips, destroying my body.
And I felt destroyed. My pussy ached and my legs were tired, like I’d run a few miles.
But it was an amazing feeling. I still thought my whole body was vibrating, and I felt so refreshed. That was probably from sleeping for so many hours, but still. For all his big talk and his cocky attitude, Bull was exactly what he said he was.
It surprised me every time. So far in my life, most people who said they were something special tended to be bragging or lying.
Bull was the exception. Bull made me realize that his reputation was both well deserved and still not enough.
There was the matter of that fight, though. Bull made my body feel good, but he was still doing things like going to illegal fights. I hadn’t been able stay in that place for a single second longer, and yet he hadn’t seemed like he had minded it one bit.
That was exactly the sort of thing I needed for my article. If I could just get more pictures of him in places like that, I could really blow this whole thing wide open.
I bit my lip, looking over at my window.
Was I really still writing this article? After everything that had happened, after the way he made me feel, I didn’t know if I could still do it.
This was so stupid. Of course I couldn’t do it anymore.
I sat up as the realization jolted me physically.
I’d gotten too close to Bull. I’d seen both his bad side and his good side. He ran an important charity and had had a difficult childhood, and yet he also went to horrible fights and threw parties with hookers. He was involved with the mob, but he made me feel something I’d never gotten close to feeling before.
I wasn’t going to do the article. Maybe I’d never see Bull again, but I wasn’t going to go through with it. I couldn’t keep trying to use this man when so many people had tried to do it before me. He didn’t deserve that, and I couldn’t do it to him.
I stood up, smiling to myself, when there was a knock at my door.
I stood still, surprised. Nobody knocked at my door. They rang the buzzer from downstairs.
I walked over to it tentatively.
“Hello?” I called out.
“Miss Williams?”
“Yes?”
“This is your super. Can we speak?”
I paused and then slowly pulled open the door. I’d never met the super before.
He was tall and muscular with a cocky grin. His eyes stared directly into mine, and I had to admit that he was a little handsome if you liked that dangerous sort of man.
And he definitely wasn’t the super.
“My name is Rafa,” he said.
“Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of Bull’s.”
“So you’re not the super.”
“Afraid not. Can I come in?”
I went to close the door, but he stepped inside anyway, practically pushing his way inside. I stepped back, surprised, as he looked around my apartment.
“Nice,” he said.
“Please leave.” I was getting nervous.
“This won’t take long. I just want to have one simple conversation with you.”
“Who are you?”
“Like I said, I’m a friend of Bull’s, and I know who you are, Charley.”
I cocked my head at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re a journalist,” he said simply. “And you’ve been spending a lot of time with Bull lately.”
I stared at him, not saying a word.
I didn’t know this man. Bull had never mentioned him, and I’d never seen him at any of the parties I’d been to. As far as I could tell, he was a total stranger.
But he seemed to know me. He knew my last name, my nickname, and the fact that I was a sports journalist. Despite the fact that I was the lowest level journalist possible, he still somehow found that out.
And he showed up at my apartment like this, unannounced, and seemed fine with coming right in without being invited. He was looking at me with a normal expression, almost patient, but there was menace in his eyes.
I didn’t know what Bull knew. I had to assume Bull didn’t know I was a journalist, or else he wouldn’t have been taking me out still.
“What do you want?” I asked him finally.
“Good. We can skip all the bullshit then.” He s
miled and walked into my kitchen. He grabbed a mug from my cabinet and poured himself some coffee.
“Help yourself,” I said.
“Do you want Bull to know you’re a journalist?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Are you writing about him?”
“Yes,” I said. “Well, no. Not anymore.”
“Good. Bull is a friend, and I want to protect him.”
“I’m not writing about him. You can leave.”
“Charley, Charley, Charley. Do you not know who I am?”
“No.”
“I’m a fucking mobster, girl. This is a shakedown.”
“What?”
“It’s simple. You either pay me off, or I tell Bull the truth about you.”
I stared at him. I didn’t know if he was bluffing or what.
“Go ahead,” I said, deciding to call him on it. “Tell him.”
“Fine. But I’ll also make sure you lose your job and never work again.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I’m a gangster? Of course I can fucking do that.”
“What do you want?”
“Five thousand dollars.”
I shook my head, laughing. “I can’t do that. I don’t have that kind of money. I don’t get paid shit.”
“Too bad. You have three weeks.” He grinned at me. “Better write that article.”
“I thought you wanted to protect your friend?”
He shrugged. “I want money more. Three weeks.” He sipped his coffee and then put it down. I watched as he walked out of my apartment and shut the door behind him.
A chill ran down my spine. He came into my apartment and left with a terrifying ease, like he had no problem breaking into someone’s apartment. I wanted to burn the mug he drank from.
Instead, I sat down on the couch, my mind moving in circles.
I didn’t want to write that article anymore. I wanted to leave Bull alone, or maybe even come clean to him.
But I could lose my whole career, or maybe even worse. Bull would never help me, of course, since I was betraying him. I couldn’t mess with the mob, not if I was smart.
I didn’t want to write the article. I had to write the article.
I felt trapped, and I couldn’t see any way out.
14
Bull
I could still feel her tight hips as I thrust myself against her. I loved the way she had pretended to push back against me, but she’d let me pin her arms back while she took my fucking cock.
She knew the game, and she loved it. I hadn’t been able to help myself as I took her body, and a day later I still wanted more.
She was a journalist. She was the damn enemy. And yet fucking the enemy felt so good.
I’d been with plenty of women in my life. Groupies always wanted a taste of the Bull, and I was willing to give them a ride. I fucked them and I forgot about them as soon as I left the room.
But not Charley. She was the first woman as far as I could remember who made me want another taste.
And that was fucking bad. I should keep myself far, far away from her, but I couldn’t.
That morning, I woke up early, before sunrise. She was snoring in my arms, sleeping so peacefully. I couldn’t fucking believe I had fallen asleep with her, and I slowly got up, careful not to wake her.
I should have just gotten out of there and forgotten about the whole thing, but instead, I snuck into her bedroom and found that dildo right next to her bed. Smiling to myself, I found a pen and some paper and then wrote her a note.
I left with the dildo tucked under my arm.
I knew what I was doing when I took that thing back and wrote that note. I was basically daring her to get in contact with me again. I knew I wasn’t going to call her, although I wanted to, but I also knew that by taking the dildo I basically guaranteed she’d call me.
I wanted her to. I knew that I did. It was fucking stupid and insane, but I wanted another taste.
“You okay, bro?”
I nodded, finishing my set. “Yeah. Why?”
“You look distracted.”
“I’m lifting some heavy fucking weights, so yeah, I’m trying to distract myself.”
“Where were you last night?”
“Went to that fight.”
Calvin laughed. “You serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious.”
“I didn’t know you were into that.”
“I am.”
“Okay, man. It’s just that, the last time I mentioned going, you told me that those fights were for scumbags and losers.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Sure you did.” Calvin laughed. “Anyway, I’m done for the day.”
I nodded, feeling a nice, comfortably burn in my muscles. “Same.”
We headed down the hallway back toward the locker room. We stripped down and got into separate showers. Calvin liked to hum while he washed, which made it easy for me to tune out and picture Charley’s body against mine.
When I was finished, I got out and toweled off. Calvin was still humming away like a weird motherfucker when I got back to my bag and got changed.
As I sat there waiting for Calvin to hurry his ass up, my phone started ringing.
I knew instantly who it was. I just knew it. I had a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that she’d call soon. Sure enough, it was her number.
“I knew you’d call,” I said.
“Hi, Bull.”
“What can I help you with?”
She sighed. “You stole something of mine.”
“What’s that? Your virginity?”
She laughed. “Not quite. You stole my toy.”
I paused. “You mean my cock?”
“No. I mean that big silicon, uh, penis.”
“You mean my cock. I took it back just like you wanted.”
“I want it back.”
I paused, surprised. “That’s not what I expected.”
“You took it from me. I want it back.”
I laughed, grinning to myself. This girl was so much better than I could have pictured. I knew she’d call, but I never imagined she’d call to ask for a dildo of my own cock back.
“You can just have the real thing,” I said. “No need for a fake.”
“I’d rather have the fake,” she said. “So, are you going to give it back?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “I do like the idea of you fucking yourself with a mold of my cock. But I’d rather do the fucking myself.”
“I’m sure you would,” she said, “but I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“We both know it’s why you called.”
She paused. “No,” she said finally. “I called because you disappeared and stole something from me.”
“It’s almost cute that you’re dancing around it.”
“I’ll come steal it back if I have to. I know where you live, remember?”
I laughed, grinning to myself. “I remember.”
“Good. So when can I expect it?”
I could practically feel the bad idea form in my brain before I was really conscious of it. I knew I should probably hang up and be done with this whole thing, but I couldn’t help myself.
She was trying to play me, and nobody played Bull. Besides, it was an excuse to have a good time.
“Come to my place on Wednesday,” I said. “I’m throwing another party.”
“Like the last one?”
“Something like that.”
“How many hookers will be there?”
“As many as you want,” I said. “Which do you prefer, men or women?”
“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” she said.
“See you then, Charley.”
She hung up the phone, and I chuckled to myself.
I looked up and Calvin was watching me, a little smile on his face. “Who was that?”
“Nobody,” I said.
“Sounded like someone.”
“Just a girl.”
“Yeah, man. No shit. So we’re having a party on Wednesday?”
“Sounds like it.”
“Good. I’ll make the calls.”
“No hookers this time.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Whatever else, but no hookers.”
“You’re the boss.”
I nodded and got up. “I’ll see you later, man.”
“Where are you running off to?”
“I have a meeting with my PR girl.”
“Have fun.”
I nodded and headed out. I didn’t really have a meeting, but I didn’t want Calvin to start asking more questions about Charley.
It was like an unspoken rule among players that you didn’t sleep with the enemy. Ryan broke that rule because he was a fucking scumbag, and so far I had been pretty damn good about it. But now that I had slept with Charley, I realized that I was a fucking traitor.
And I was planning on doing it again, and again, and again, as many times as I could before she couldn’t walk anymore.
15
Charlotte
That mafia man’s face was in my mind as I tentatively knocked on Cooper’s door.
“Come in,” he called out.
My boss wasn’t normally in so early, but I was glad he’d come in on time for once. I opened the door and stepped inside.
Cooper was something of a legend in the office. He’d been around since the beginning and was one of the most grizzled and jaded reporters on staff. He didn’t write much anymore, but he was very good at finding new talent and promoting them ruthlessly. It was everyone’s dream to be discovered by Cooper.
But that wasn’t my goal, not anymore.
“Can I have a second?”
“Charley. Sit. You have two seconds.”
I sat down. “I have a story pitch.”
“Save it for the weekly meeting.”
“This is important, something I’ve been doing on the side.”
He sat back in his chair. Cooper was in his fifties, balding, with thick round glasses and a big round stomach. He looked exhausted, but he always looked exhausted.