by Naomi West
I licked and kissed him as I continued to stroke his cock, now getting into something of a rhythm. But I knew that eventually, I was going to have to take him into my mouth.
Now or never, I thought.
I opened my mouth and brought it over Tank’s cock, wrapping my lips tightly around the ridge of his head. I held it there for a moment, getting used to the feeling of him in my mouth. Then I began to use my tongue, moving it along the ridge of his cock. Tank took in a slow breath through his nostrils, and I took this to mean that I was doing something right. I kept my hand stroking him as I held him in my mouth, giving his cock a good, firm tug.
Tank ran his hands through my hair, getting a better look at the sight of me with a mouthful of him. I moved my head down, taking more and more of him into my mouth. Soon, I had half of his length in my mouth, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to take any more. I moved my head back, taking his cock out of my mouth and catching my breath.
Okay, I thought, just keep doing that.
I went back to work. I opened my mouth and took him again, this time going fully down his length and bobbing back up, repeating the motion over and over. It was a little tricky to balance this with the stroking of my other hand, but I was getting the hang of it. Eventually, I was able to suck him at a steady pace, and Tank’s breathing began to quicken. I didn’t know if he was going to cum in my mouth, but I prepared myself for the possibility.
After a few more minutes of this, Tank wrapped his hand in my hair and gently led me back up to my feet. I looked down at his massive cock, which was now slick and sheened with saliva. He stood up, staring down hard at me.
Then, something strange came over me, some sort of all-consuming passion that I couldn’t ignore. Looking up into Tank’s piercing eyes, I stood on my tiptoes, and brought his lips to mine, kissing him hard. He went along with it for a time, even returning the kiss. But before it could turn into anything more than that, Tank’s body tensed up. He placed hands on my hands and forcefully moved me away from him. His face was now in an expression of something resembling anger.
Had I done something wrong?
“Don’t ever do that again,” he said, his voice stern.
“Do … what?” I asked.
“No kissing,” he said. “Rule number fucking one.”
“What?” I said, stepping back from him. “Why?”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he said, standing firm.
He picked up the remote and killed the music. Then he pulled up his pants, zipped up, and did his belt.
“That’s enough for tonight,” he said.
Then he turned and headed out of the room, leaving me standing there as alone and confused as ever.
Chapter Twelve
Tank
I was fucking kicking myself. I couldn’t believe that I’d let my guard down so much with Star that when she kissed me I went along with it. Stupid, stupid. I could’ve told her when it happened that I didn’t kiss the property, but was so goddamn mad at myself that I wanted to get right out of there as fast as fucking possible.
So I grabbed a bottle of wine on the way upstairs and spent the rest of the night drinking and thinking about just what I’d gotten myself into. It wasn’t a catastrophic situation, sure, but it would require a retooling of how I was doing things. I blamed the dinner. I’d let Star lull me into a state of domestic stupor; the wine had definitely played a part, too. I had to figure out how I was going to balance the fact that I didn’t want her to get too close or comfortable with the fact that, well, I liked having her there.
Fucking bullshit. That next morning I decided to focus my attention back to what I needed to get done that day. Namely, meeting up with Dakin and finalizing the arms deal. I was sure he was going to go along with it, but until those weapons were sitting in my warehouse waiting to be sold I wasn’t going to rest easy.
Cruiser and I were meeting Dakin and the rest of his men some other location in the area, so I killed time around the house until around noon when I got the text with the details. I wasn’t sure where Star was; I figured that me putting her in her place last night probably had gotten her good and shook up. Likely, she was hiding out in her room until I was gone. I considered letting her know that I wasn’t pissed off, but I decided that could wait. I had more important shit to worry about at the moment.
Still, as I rode down to the meeting place, I couldn’t help but find myself thinking about her more and more. It was like she’d hijacked my thoughts. The image of her grinding on me last night, my cock in her mouth … they were getting me all kinds of turned on. I decided during the ride that I’d settle the matter by giving her the fucking that I’d been holding off on. Pounding a girl to kingdom come was always a good way of letting her know just who was in charge.
After an hour or so of riding, I came across the location. Dakin and his men were there, and I was eager to get the negotiations behind us. Cruiser pulled up a few minutes after I arrived, and the two of us greeted Dakin and the rest.
But as I shook Dakin’s hand, I couldn’t help but notice that there was an edge to how he was acting. His expression was hard, and I didn’t detect a bit of camaraderie. I kept myself a little on edge, now wondering if this deal was gonna go sideways.
“We ready to do this?” I asked, my eyes on the shipping container packed full of goods.
“Little change in terms,” said Dakin.
“Oh?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
“Price is up fifty percent.”
“What?” I asked, the words coming out in a snarl.
Dakin’s men tensed up, their hands moving towards the guns at their hips.
“Price is up fifty percent since last time?” I asked. “Why the fuck is that?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cruiser looking at me with an expectant expression. He was just as knocked on his ass by this as I was.
“I’ve been doing a little thinking,” said Dakin, hooking his thumbs into his belt and pacing with leisurely steps back and forth. “And I realized that this little deal we’re cooking up is the perfect chance for me to get my hands on something that you have that I want.”
“Oh?” I asked. “And what the hell do you want exactly besides my money?”
“You need to ask?” asked Dakin, stopping and turning towards me. “It’s that little piece of ass that you bought out from under me. Duh.”
I stopped cold.
“The fuck you say?”
“You heard me,” said, Dakin, not bothered a bit by my objection. “I want that blonde piece. And you’re not getting your hands on so much as a BB gun from this shipment unless I do.”
“Dakin, are you kidding me?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dakin was holding up what might be one of the biggest money-making opportunities he’d have just to … what, get back at me?
“My man,” I said, evening my tone and trying to talk some sense into him, “I bought Star fair and square.”
“Oh, ‘Star’?” he asked, scoffing. “You and the meat are on a first-name basis? Cute.”
I ignored this and kept on. “I bought her fair and square. That deal’s long done, and there’s no point in bringing it into what we got going on here.”
“No point?” he said, clearly getting a little pissed off that I hadn’t just agreed to it right off the bat “I’ll tell you what does or doesn’t have a ‘point’. I wanted that girl, and you knew it. That’s the only reason why you swooped in from under me and bought her.”
He was dead wrong, but what was I supposed to say—that I had a strange compulsion to buy her?
“Listen,” I said. “Maybe when this is all said and done, I’ll buy you a girl at the next auction—kind of a little bonus on top of everything.”
“Nah, fuck that,” said Dakin, a wildness glowing in his eyes. “I want that girl—Star, whatever the fuck her name is. And this deal’s just gonna get more and more expensive until you agree to my terms. Got
it?”
I could see that there was no negotiating with him.
“Got it,” I said.
“Good,” said Dakin, a smart-ass little smile on his mouth. “I’ll give you a little time to think it over. You know how to find me when you make the right call.”
With that, he turned, whistled, and waved his hand, directing the driver of the truck to which the shipping container was attached to move out. The rest of the members of Dakin’s gang climbed onto their bikes, and within a couple of minutes they’d torn out of there, leaving just me and Cruiser.
“I need a fuckin’ drink,” I said through clenched teeth as I started off towards my bike.
Cruiser scrambled after me, and about twenty minutes of hard riding later, we were in some shitty nearby dive.
“Fucking bullshit!” shouted Cruiser, banging his hand on the table bar, attracting the attention of the people there, the sort of low-life drunks who’d be slamming beer at two in the afternoon at some run-down bar in the middle of nowhere. “Why the hell does he is that he thinks he can hold up this deal over some piece of pussy?”
To my surprise, I felt my hackles rise at this. Though that’s all Star was, a piece of ass that I’d bought for a premium price, something about Cruiser referring to her as such didn’t sit right with me. But I let it pass.
“It’s fucking unprofessional is what it is,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “We all stand to make some serious money from this deal, and he’s holding it all up just because he needs to get his nut. Can’t believe this shit.”
“So, when you gonna hand the girl over?” asked Cruiser.
“Huh?”
“Whaddya mean, ‘huh’?” he asked. “Dakin wants the girl, simple as that. Just sell her for whatever he wants and let’s get this deal going.”
“You remember I’m the one leading this club, right?” I said, jabbing a finger in Cruiser’s direction. “You wanna give a suggestion, fine. But don’t presume to tell me what to do.”
“But … what’re you gonna do, then? You think you’re gonna just tell him no or something?”
I slammed a shot of whiskey, winced, and followed it with a chaser of beer.
“Letting Dakin have her just like that wouldn’t solve a damn thing,” I said, flagging down the bartender for another shot. “In fact, it’d be just the beginning. He’d know that he could tack on whatever terms he wanted to any deal from here on out and we’d have to go along with it.”
I was being disingenuous and I knew it. Sure, there was some truth to what I was saying, but the main thrust behind my words was not wanting to give up Star. Especially to a fucker like Dakin. I knew how he treated his girls, and I didn’t want Star to be any part of that. She was … different. There was an innocence, or something, to her that I felt like I needed to protect. I had no idea where these thoughts were coming from; they were weird fucking things to be thinking about an auction girl.
“Then what’re you gonna do?” asked Cruiser.
“Not sure,” I said, downing another shot of whiskey. “But I’m gonna solve this shit one way or another.”
Chapter Thirteen
Star
The evening came on, and I was still unsure of what to think about my most recent night with Tank. That kiss lingered on my lips, and I knew that despite his protestations, he had been just as into it as I was. Could this be why he’d reacted so strongly to it? Because he’d felt himself letting go and falling into it, and the possibility scared him? I couldn’t tell a damn thing with Tank—he was the kind of guy who kept his emotions locked down tight. But I knew that he’d gotten bothered enough by something that he felt like he had to back off to collect himself.
Either way, and in spite of myself, I missed him. I knew it was the stupidest damn thing in the world to miss the man who’d bought me like a piece of meat, but I couldn’t help the way I felt. I was drawn to him in a way that I’d never been drawn to a man before, and part of me hoped that I’d hear him coming through the door, followed by him appearing at the threshold to my bedroom, a wild, savage look in his eyes as he got ready to claim my virginity for his own.
I shook these thoughts out of my mind, remembering the concept of Stockholm Syndrome that I’d learned about in high school. Apparently, when a person—usually a woman—was taken hostage, she could eventually, after a long enough period of captivity, begin to sympathize with her captor, even refusing to leave his company when the opportunity presented itself. This idea scared me—what if all that I’d been feeling about Tank was nothing more than some strange self-preservation process? What if my animal brain knew that going along with Tank was the best way to preserve myself in this bizarre situation?
But that didn’t seem right. The way Tank had responded to my kiss ... I just knew that there was something behind it—there were real feelings there. Fat chance of me getting Tank to admit that, however.
So I lounged around in bed, hoping that Tank would come back and say something, anything, to make me feel that things between us were okay. I sifted through the lingerie hanging in my walk-in closet, going over the items that had struck me as too risqué the first time I’d looked at them.
Who knows, I thought, dragging my fingertips over the light, thin material of the especially scandalous lingerie, maybe wearing something like this is how I get through to Tank.
But before I could consider the matter for too long, I heard a noise downstairs. It was a heavy thud, like someone dropping a bowling ball on a hardwood floor. I froze in place upon hearing the sound. It should’ve been Tank, but I’d never known him to make noises like that—he was typically pretty sure of his step.
I threw on a robe and walked carefully to the entrance to my bedroom, listening carefully for another noise. Standing there for a few minutes, I only heard silence. My heartrate began to slow, and I started to calm down.
Must’ve been nothing, I thought.
But before I finished turning back to my bedroom, I heard something else. This noise was more like a clatter, like someone had bumped into a table and knocked the things on top of it onto the ground. My eyes went wide and my heart began to race once again. Now I was sure that someone was here.
Is it Tank? I thought, stepping out into the hallway overlooking the first floor.
Like I said, he wasn’t what I would consider a klutz, but maybe he was drunk?
I walked carefully down the spiral stairs leading to the main entrance hall, hoping to catch a secret glimpse of whoever was making the racket. I made my way further and further down the stairs, keeping my ears open for anything. And as I reached the bottom, I heard what sounded like footsteps down the first-floor hallway, back near the lounge. Then, as I took a peek from behind one of the columns, I could see the fleeting silhouette of someone in the lounge.
My blood ran cold. There was someone there.
I looked carefully, seeing that whoever it was had the same large, muscular form of Tank, though perhaps not quite as big. But his hair wasn’t the close-shaved style of Tank. Who could this be?
A thought occurred to me: only a trusted associate of Tank would have the access codes to get past the extensive security of the house. So anyone here would have to be a close friend of his. I felt a little relief at this idea. Maybe Tank had just sent one of his MC men over here to pick up something. But still, why would he be sneaking around? And why wouldn’t Tank let me know that someone was coming?
I knew that I should’ve just run back up to my room and called Tank. After all, there was a reason that he’d only allowed my phone to dial his number. But I wasn’t into doing the smart thing at that moment in time. I inched closer to lounge, and now it was my turn to be a klutz. I bumped into one of the side tables, a decorative bowl toppling off the side and landing on the hard ground with a shrill crash.
I froze in place, knowing that there was no way that I hadn’t been heard. Sure enough, the form in the lounge stopped still for a moment before turning towards me. Then the form began walking ou
t of the shadows and into the dim light of the hallway. Sure enough, it was a tall, beefy man in jeans and a leather vest, his face covered in a long, braided beard and his head topped with wild hair.
“There you are,” he said, now moving towards me.
I couldn’t bear to move.
“Wh-who are you?” I said, trying to make my voice sound demanding but my words instead coming out in a pathetic little squeak.
“I’m … ah, call me Cruiser.”
He continued towards me, his steps careful, as if he were trying to walk up to a frightened rabbit.