Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3)

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Savage Savior (Savage People Book 3) Page 24

by Charleigh Rose


  My cock twitched in appreciation to her compliment. “Believe it, baby. Now, a few pointers: you want to lick it good and wet it before you try to take some of it in. You can use both hands for what you can’t get into your mouth for pumping, and I’d really love it if you’d massage my balls in circles and murmur my name as you suck me. Any other questions?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she replied easily. “Are you always this delusional, or do you normally take your meds? I’m not taking this thing in my mouth.”

  “Don’t make me threaten you with forty orgasms in one day. I’d hate to do it to you, but if that’s what it comes down to, I will.”

  She stared at my cock again, and it stared right back at her. Goddammit, I hoped Graham wasn’t counting on me doing any real work in this place because all I was planning to do was fuck this girl to oblivion. Timidly, she slid off my thigh and placed herself between my knees. That itself made me want to explode and come all over her face. But I didn’t. I was a good boy, and I jerked off before I got there. Twice, this time.

  She smiled shyly before placing her hot tongue on the base of my cock, dragging it up and down before swirling it around like it was a lollipop. Then she grabbed my shaft and started working on my head, kissing it ravenously, devouring it with a tiny smile on her face and groaning as she did so. My balls were getting tighter, drawn together, begging to be emptied inside her pretty mouth, and I grabbed her raven hair and pulled her into me, shoving my dick all the way down her throat. It wasn’t the gentleman thing to do, but she didn’t protest. In fact, dirty little Jade, who wanted to go to an out-of-state college and feed herself bullshit ideas she never wanted to go through with, started chanting my name just like I’d asked her to.

  “Cole, Cole, Cole, Cole,” she murmured, clasping my dick between her glossed up lips and sucking on it so hard I thought she was going to hoover it down her throat. “Fuck me, Cole. Make me come, Cole.”

  Yeah. I was hoping she wasn’t counting on English Lit as her major. That girl’s mouth was as filthy as my thoughts about her.

  “I’m going to come in your mouth, and what are you going to do about it?”

  “Swallow,” she said, her body pressing against my leg as she continued sucking me off. She grinded herself on my leg like a cat in fucking heat and I loved it.

  “No, baby. I don’t want you to swallow it. I want you to take it all in your mouth, keep it there, take your shirt off, and then lick your tits for me with my cum dripping all over your nipples. Do you think you can fulfill my fantasy, Butterfly?”

  I came in her mouth and jerked her back and forth by holding her hair as I emptied on her tongue. Then I watched how she soundlessly took off her white tee, her lips sealed, and removed her lacey little white bra. When her tits were exposed, I noticed her nipples were as hard as my dick was moments ago. She opened her mouth slowly, and my white, juicy cum dripped from the corner of her mouth, before she darted her tongue out and pushed one of her tits up to her mouth, swirling her tongue around her nipples for me.

  I was going to faint, then marry, then fuck this girl until the day I died. This was it. This was everything.

  “Cole,” she moaned my name, her chin still dripping with my cum and her eyes heavy with lust. “Promise me this fucking arrangement will be over the minute I have enough money to move away and start fresh? Promise you’ll let me go and not make it hard for me when I finally go away to college and away from this goddamned place?”

  That was the easiest promise I’d ever had to give anyone because I didn’t entertain myself with going through with it. Not even once. Jade was fucking mine.

  “I promise, Butterfly,” I told her, smiling big and patting her on the head. “Now, go wipe up for me and continue working on the files I fucked up especially for you. I’ll need a few minutes before I take your ass.”

  There’s this saying: fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—have you seen the dick on this man? Seriously, it’s twelve inches, and not the grotesque, freak show kind of twelve inches. Smooth and gorgeous and porn-worthy in every single way.

  After I sucked Cole’s cock like it was oxygen and I was underwater, I had to convince myself that everything was okay. That my plan was still intact. So as I fixed my hair in front of the mirror in the dirty, sticky bathroom of Hot N’ Bothered, I told myself that nothing had changed.

  I was still working for Graham Savage to save up some money and move to the other side of the country.

  I was just fucking Cole Savage in the process. It was nothing like what I had with Stefano, because the rules were clear. I wasn’t Cole’s girlfriend, and I wasn’t his date. I was his fuck-buddy. I wasn’t privy to his shady business, and I wouldn’t go to his place. We’d just fuck around here, in the club, when I had shifts. Honestly, I could think of worse ways to burn my time while I was “working”.

  Anyway, at least he was kidding about the anal thingy. Not that I wasn’t down for it. I mean, when I came back from the bathroom, all flushed, he asked me to work without my jeans because “they’re useless as a bag of ball-less dicks” and forced me to read to him out loud every single file in the cabinet and replace every third word with “your cock”. I did it because it made me laugh and because I had nothing better to do. Time passed quickly, and I was beginning to fear for my heart. I shouldn’t have liked spending time with Cole. He was charming enough, sure, but so was Stefano, and we all know how that turned out.

  After I was done reading to him the stupid, boring files of service providers and taxes for the club, he pointed at the filing cabinet and said, “Now put everything in the bottom drawer.”

  I knew he asked me to do it because he wanted me to bend over, and I did because I wanted to see what he’d do next. When I inserted the files into the bottom drawer, as slowly as I possibly could, stalling, I heard him behind me.

  “Don’t move. I think you have something on your ass.”

  I grinned into the folders under me and thought about how a few years back, I was so stinking jealous of my best friend who had been fucking her stepdaddy in various venues just like this because he owned them all. And now it was about to be me.

  A pang of sadness pierced through my heart as I considered this was probably also the reason why I’d agreed to date Stefano in the first place. I wanted what Dahlia had. Only Stefano wasn’t Graham. Stefano really was the fucking devil.

  “There it is, the thing I need to take off your ass,” I heard Cole murmuring behind my back. Before I knew it, his teeth sank into the side of my panties, his thumb hooked into the other side, and he removed my lacey thong with his mouth. I sighed, feeling my wetness dripping inside my inner thigh and grabbed onto the file cabinet tightly.

  “Is your ass ready for Cole Junior?” he murmured between my ass cheeks. I blushed. No, it definitely wasn’t. I’d only tried anal once and didn’t like it all that much. It made me feel uncomfortable and, quite frankly, like I had to go to the bathroom. But something told me that Cole knew something my previous sexual partner didn’t, and it encouraged me to take a second chance on it.

  “We need lube.” I bit my lip and dragged my fingernails through the cabinet, about to die from need.

  “No, baby. I’m going in dry.”

  My breath was caught in my throat as I felt one of his hands grabbing onto my waist hard, squeezing, while the other rolled on a condom. I wasn’t ready. I was scared. So scared. But I didn’t want to chicken out on him.

  My ass, on the other hand, was ready to run away from the scene.

  “Cole, are you sure? I mean, you’re twelve inches long and pretty thick. I’m sure nature didn’t intend for your baseball bat to enter my little hole.”

  He laughed but didn’t answer, and soon enough, I felt the smooth head of his cock sliding up and down between my butt cheeks. My thighs quivered with need and fear and my heart rate picked up. I felt the rapid thuds not only in my chest but also in my ears. Grabbing tighter to the cabinet, my knuckles white, I took a deep brea
th and was ready to exhale when he squeezed the head of his cock into my tight hole… But then, in one go, he plunged inside my pussy, and I sighed both in pleasure and relief.

  He pulled on my long hair, bringing my head to his steel, muscular chest.

  “I’ll never hurt your ass, baby. Yes, I will take you there, but I promise you, when I do, you’re going to beg for me to never stop.”

  With that, he released the hold on my hair and started thrusting into me, deeper and deeper, massaging my clit with his hand and balancing me by my thigh with the other. I cried his name over and over again and held on to the cabinet for dear life, the friction, depth of his cock, and my throbbing, swollen clit too much to handle. Then I felt the first wave of an orgasm washing through me from head to toe and screamed so loud the muffled sound of the nightclub downstairs disappeared and all we heard was my voice.

  He continued pumping into me until he reached his own orgasm, collapsing over my back and essentially making us both stumble and fall on the floor. We burst into crazy laughter, and he wrapped his strong, huge hands around me, into something that felt like a hug. I stilled completely when I realized he was embracing me the way no other man ever did before.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered when our laughter died.

  “You,” he answered, a content sigh leaving his perfect, luscious mouth. “I’m doing you, and I’m about to shout this shit from the rooftops.”

  “Hey, girl!” Dahlia opened the door for me. I walked right into her New Jersey mansion, throwing my handbag onto the dining table in her family room. Goddammit, their house was nice. Dahlia was carrying Emerson in one arm and Kathleen in the other, and I wondered how she learned to do that.

  “What’s up?” I chewed on my gum and followed her with my gaze as she put Emerson on the floor and Kathleen in one of those weird swings for newborns. “You look like your hands are full. Do you want me to make some coffee?”

  “Screw coffee. We’re drinking wine.” Dahl pointed at a half-empty bottle of chardonnay on the granite countertop. I knew where to find the wine glasses and quickly poured us both generous glasses of the good stuff.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be breastfeeding?” I asked.

  “I am. I’ll pump the milk and throw it away.”

  “Like fuck you will,” I heard Graham shouting from his den on the second floor. His home office had cameras with mics everywhere. “Pump it and leave it in the fridge, Dolly. I’ve got plans for that milk.”

  I rolled my eyes before staring at my best friend accusingly. “This is the highest level of gross I’ve ever witnessed in a couple.”

  “Sweetie,” Dahl pouted, her lips already wet with the wine I poured for us. “I need to talk to you. Let’s get out to the garden.”

  Saying I didn’t like where this was going was an understatement. I knew Dahl wanted me to follow her outside because Graham couldn’t see or hear us there and wondered what she had to tell me. Fear tickled my chest as I questioned if my best friend and her precious babies were in danger.

  We carried our wine glasses to the deck and sat under the sunshade on white and red patio incliners overlooking her Olympic-sized pool. She heaved out a sigh and closed her eyes, tossing back the majority of the wine in her glass and swallowing. I watched her with my jaw slacked.

  “Dahl? You’re scaring the hell out of me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “It’s Graham.” She cleared her throat, her blue eyes fixated on the pool. I swallowed. Oh, no.

  “What about him?” I probed.

  “They…” she started, choking back a sob. “The Italians are after his businesses, Jade. They burned down one of his grocery stores, and now this is developing into some sort of nasty underworld war. Graham is lacing up, recruiting people I’ve never met nor heard about from the gutters of the worst neighborhoods of New York, and he’s even bringing guys in from Ireland, for fuck’s sake. He tries to downplay the whole thing, but I know the truth. They want to kill him, and I’m scared for his life.”

  I reached for my friend instinctively, placing both our glasses on the floor, and hugged her into my chest. Tears blurred my vision as I processed her words. Italian mafia. Stefano. And while my first priority was my best friend and her little family, the thought of Cole being in danger crept into my mind as well. I tried to silence them, to push them away.

  You’re moving. This is nothing. He sees it as a fling, and hell, so should you.

  “Dahlia, look at me,” I ordered softly. She pulled away from our hug and sniffed, her whole body shaking with her sobs.

  “It’s going to be okay. Graham is the nastiest bastard I’ve ever met.” That part was definitely true. “They don’t stand a chance. They won’t get to him before he gets to them, you hear me?”

  She nodded. But she didn’t believe me. I saw it in her eyes.

  What was worse was, I didn’t believe me either. And I was afraid the worst was yet to come.

  I caught Carter doing it again. Staring at Quinn through her window.

  This time she was at home and swaying her hips to a tune no one on the street was able to hear. She was mouthing the words, and he stood across the street and fucking mouthed them with her. I swear I liked the guy, but he was a world-class freak.

  After this time, I promised myself I’d sit him down and talk to him about how to court a woman properly, and maybe even use the opportunity to mention that women weren’t cars and didn’t need an internal and external wash before you could get into them.

  But one step at a time.

  I was walking back home from the gym where I trained Graham’s newest recruits. They were all so young and impressionable, and I didn’t know what we were dealing with exactly, but Carter mentioned a few times that the Italians were a little older and more experienced. They were third generation mobsters, with deep roots and clear codes, while Graham’s crew was mostly a few Irish and American kids ruling the cruel streets of New York, running errands for him.

  We were the underdog. We all knew it. No one talked about it.

  At home, I went through my usual routine of jerking off twice in the shower before prepping myself for Jade’s shift and wearing my best clothes like I was going to attend my own fucking bar mitzvah. Honest to God, I was beginning to hate myself for chasing her ass like she was the only woman with a vagina in the state of New York.

  When I got out of the shower and microwaved my tasteless meal—I had a routine, yes, and this routine took care of my fucking eight-pack—Carter walked into the apartment. I was about to ask him what was up, but he showed me exactly what was up by throwing a fucking whiskey bottle across the room. I watched it shatter on the floor, my nose stinging with the sharp scent of alcohol soon after.

  “What in the actual fuck, weirdo?” I asked from the dining table, slurping my food as if nothing happened.

  “The Italians,” he barked. “That’s what’s up. The Italians struck again.”

  “And yet you still took the time to check out Quinn before you came here,” I couldn’t help but blurt out. I didn’t care about the Italians at that moment. I cared about my friend obsessing over a girl he barely knew. “What’s up with that?”

  He stared at me, perplexed, before saying, “Are you following me, you wee shite?”

  Oh no, he started with the Irish lingo. That was when I knew he was getting worked up.

  “I’m not following you. I come home by foot every day. I noticed you from across the street. It’s pretty hard not to. Are you jerking off to that? Because I’m not sure what the rules are in Northern Ireland, but here, it’s pretty frowned upon.”

  He kicked the leg of the table and shouted at me, “Don’t even mention Quinn’s name again! I protect her! I fucking do what needs to be done to make sure the lass is safe.”

  Lass. Goddammit. This guy needed to come with Google Translate.

  “Okay, okay, fine. What happened with the Italians this time that made you let a perfectly good whiskey bottle go to waste?” I
gave up on the Quinn subject. For now. I was for sure going to explore it a little more when Carter was not in a mood to kill a motherfucker with his bare hands.

  Carter licked his lips, grabbed a chair and sat down, getting right to business.

  “Right. Graham wants you to be more involved now that shit’s going down. Basically, we took over their latest shipment at the pier. We stole four of their shipping containers, most of it drugs and jewelry knockoffs, which were pretty useless, granted, but there you have it. This was two nights ago and we thought we’d call it even. Graham thought they’d get the hint and leave us alone, or better yet, want to sort it out through the usual route and talk about it, maybe come to some kind of an understanding.”

  “And?” I lost interest at ‘knockoffs’. My mind drifted into more important matters, like how I needed to eat Jade’s ass that night and how I needed to steal her computer and credit cards to make sure she’d never leave here. Ever. But Carter leaned forward to whisper to me, looking pretty into the conversation.

  “They’ve sent a threat to Graham’s house,” he said. I cocked one eyebrow.

  “To New Jersey?”

  Carter nodded silently. “Dahlia opened the door and two Italian men in suits delivered the message. They said they’d kill Graham.”

  “Fucking hell,” I breathed out. Carter grabbed his hair from the base and tugged at it in frustration.

  “Graham’s lads are too young, too inexperienced. The ones that are professionals, like you and me, are overworked and knackered.”

  Mmmm. Knackered. It sounded like a chocolate bar.

  “What’s your point?” I got up from my chair, taking my empty plate with me and washing it in the sink.

  “My point is, you need to prepare. We’re going to war, Cole. And you’re coming.”

  “You literally have no more work to give me,” Jade complained, sitting across from me in my office. I blinked at her a few times. Surely, she didn’t ask me to give her more responsibilities? What the fuck did she care? She still got paid, and all she needed to do was sit in front of me and look amazing as hell, which she obviously did.

 

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