Harley turned back around and tilted her head back onto the headrest on a sharp exhale. “Years off my life…” she muttered as she resumed the drive home. She smiled to herself because, yeah, the refuge was quickly becoming ‘home’, as was the man draped across the backseat of her tricked-out Rubicon.
When she parked in front of his house, he jumped out and opened her door for her. There was that lopsided grin again. Damn him. A smart ass with manners. She playfully shoved him in the chest and followed him when he took a couple of steps backwards. “You’re not out of trouble, you know.”
“I’m in the doghouse?” he grinned.
“No. Worse. I’m going to stick your ass out there with that crazy monkey of yours.”
He pulled her close and rubbed her back. He let his fingertips trace her curves as he savored the feel of her safe in his arms, while she rested her forearms on his chest and played with a button on his shirt. “It’s making me crazy thinking about someone taking you,” he muttered. “I know what I did back there was crazy.”
“Yep.”
“And I know sticking a knife to your throat was ludicrous.”
She pulled back just far enough to narrow her eyes at him. “Ya think?”
King grimaced. He pressed her cheek onto his shoulder so he could nuzzle her neck. “What’s crazier, though, is the way my heart isn’t listening to my head. I keep telling myself I can’t have feelings for a woman I barely know. But my heart’s not listening, Harley. You really are my Summer, baby. This feels like, you know, how it is when sparks fly when two strangers meet on vacation in an exotic city they would never have been in otherwise. But fate saw to it to put them in that particular spot at that particular moment. Their souls recognize each other, and they don’t question it. They just hold on to each other as long as they can because they know they never would have met if fate hadn’t intervened.”
She gazed up at him, shaking her head even as she worried that her wobbly knees might give out. “Who are you?”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t know if I’m making sense to you or not. Hell, it doesn’t make any sense to me. All I know is I can’t lose you after the summer is over. This thing between us? What started out as cartel business has taken over my whole life, my whole heart. I know I should do the right thing here and give you your freedom…but when I think about letting you go, darlin’, I just can’t.”
She reached up, fisted a thick handful of his hair, and kissed him, her lips hungry as they tried to tell him what words couldn’t say. And just like that, his fears melted away.
In that moment, Harley knew she would never leave him. Opening up to her hadn’t been a sign of weakness at all; it had taken courage for King to do that. It was the best thing he could have done with a woman like Harley, who had seen more than her share of testosterone-fueled pissing contests in her childhood. To her, King was the perfect combination of everything good and perfect in a man. She didn’t want to lose him either.
King’s cock chose that moment to get in on the action, and she couldn’t help but smile when she felt it pressing against her belly. She thrust playfully against him. A growl escaped his lips and his nostrils flared as he lifted her up onto the hood of the car. His hands tore at her clothing as he untied her scrubs and lifted her smock and bra off. She kicked off her shoes and socks and slid her pants off, biting her bottom lip with anticipation. With his eyes riveted on the frantic strip show happening on the hood of his car, King wrestled with his own clothes until they were both naked and panting in front of his house in broad daylight.
He came at her hard with no warning, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder as he slammed into her to the hilt. This wasn’t the same gentle soul who had revealed his emotional needs to her moments earlier. This was a man taking what was his.
“Mine,” he growled, gritting his teeth as he dug his fingers into her hips. Closing his eyes on an agonized groan, he slammed into her again, grinding against her clit with each thrust. “I want you wild under me. Fucking mark me,” he hissed as he felt her pussy clench and ripple around him, signaling her impending release. His lips claimed hers in a frantic, searing kiss that bound them together even as their bodies went up in flames.
Harley curled her fingers into King’s back and raked her nails across his skin as she came apart in his arms. The searing pain set him free and he seemed to lose all remnants of civility. His thrusts took on a mindless and animalistic pace. His shallow gasping breaths against her lips were punctuated by throaty, hoarse grunts every time his cock bottomed out against her womb. His skin was slick with sweat. His muscles rippled beneath her fevered touch. His own hands were brutal as they roamed her body and roughly explored her curves, leaving a trail of red, angry welts in their wake.
The base of his spine tingled and burned in the seconds before his hips locked on a harsh downward thrust. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her down harder onto his cock. “Fuck, baby…” he whispered against her skin. He trailed his open mouth along her shoulder before biting down on the curve of her neck with a groan, shuddering as he emptied himself inside her.
With his arms wrapped tightly around Harley, he lowered his torso over her, bracing his weight on his forearms. “Fuck me,” he gasped, laughing softly at his somewhat fuzzy recollection of what amounted to a sexual rampage.
“What was that?” Harley asked, still dazed from her own mind-blowing climax.
“Fuck if I know, but we’re doing that again,” he chuckled. “Shit, baby,” he said softly as he raised up enough to look down at her love-drugged face and stroke his thumb over her swollen, puffy lips. “I stand corrected; I don’t think I need to worry about anyone else hurting you. We’re obviously going to fuck each other to death.”
For the first time in – forever, maybe -- King felt peace descend on his soul. He hoped it would stay but he was a realist: a lifetime of serenity could only come from a clear conscience. He had committed too many sins. But this woman, his woman, had become his Summer. With her in his arms, King’s pain, anguish, and demons were all laid to rest.
Chapter Twenty Two
Kat’s eyes rolled back in her head as the intense, euphoric rush wrapped itself around her. Mmmm…so, so good.
Before her captor had seen fit to give her a hit from the pipe in her purse, she’d been on her last legs after hours of being used by his ‘customers’ the previous night. Her head had sagged in the stocks and her body was bone-weary from exhaustion. Every muscle had protested even the slightest movement, her jaw was stiff and sore, and she could tell that she was bruised deep inside. She had been crying for hours, begging the empty air for just one hit. Her eyes had been so itchy and puffy that they had nearly swollen shut.
But now? Bliss. She started laughing as she tugged weakly against the confines of the Medieval sexual torture contraption that had become her prison. She was kinda glad she didn’t have to hold herself up. She could just…be.
Stan stood back and watched, fascinated, as Kat sank deeper into the clutches of her addiction. This was the high he’d heard so much about. She’d been using meth for a while though, so it probably wouldn’t last long, so he needed to get this show on the road. He had spent the previous hour or so preparing her for the evening’s activities. Lured by the promise of her drug of choice, she had consented to bathing, eating, and using the bathroom.
With that done, Kat felt deliciously boneless as liquid gold seemed to flood every cell in her body. If she’d bothered to open her eyes, she knew exactly what she’d see: rainbows swirling around her, leaving shimmering pastel energy ribbons everywhere they touched. She flexed her fingers and toes, arched her back, and purred. This was all she needed, even more than her freedom. Freedom meant nothing to her anymore. Freedom…happiness…peace…they were for other people, not her. She just wanted this sweet oblivion to last forever and she knew he was the only one who could give it to her. Motherfucker.
She hoped the johns would hurry up. The sooner they
arrived, the sooner they’d finish so she could get more. He promised. He swore that if she did whatever they wanted tonight, she could have even more next time.
The longer she had to wait for her next hit, the more time she had to think about what an absolute disaster her life had become. She didn’t want to think sad thoughts. After that very first hit at The Club, sad thoughts hadn’t been able to touch her the rest of the night. With the passage of time, the drug was losing its effectiveness, making it harder and harder to find that level of escape.
She had had a great life at The Club working for Diego. Her friendship with Brook had meant the world to her. She and Brook had clicked as soon as they met, like sisters. What had Brook called her? My sistah from another mistah. They laughed together, cried together, and shared secrets.
She was learning the hard way that there were no takebacks; no do overs. She had been given one life and she had squandered it. Hell, she had set the damn thing on fire.
What was it her mother used to tell her? She frowned and shook her head, hopelessly confused. She couldn’t remember. Kat’s mind was wandering more and more as each hour passed. She couldn’t always tell what was real and what was in her imagination anymore. In her mind’s eye, her mother was standing in front of her, shaking her head despairingly with her hands on her hips, uttering her perpetual refrain... Kathy, you’re just one bad decision away from ruining your life.
“I’m way ahead of you, Mom,” she whispered to no one. “Kathy’s long gone.”
More than anything, she wished she could have apologized to Brook and Diego. All in all, her life had been pretty good before she screwed it all up. When she worked at The Club,, nothing ever happened with her customers that wasn’t her choice. Sure, some people might not have approved of her more lucrative choices, but so what? Then she made the mistake of smoking meth with a customer one night and her life was forever changed.
She had always heard that it only took one hit to become hopelessly addicted to meth. She hadn’t believed it at the time, but she was barely-breathing proof that it was true. When Diego had found out, the customer who had led her astray landed in the hospital, the victim of a mysterious, particularly vicious beating.
The next day, Brook’s eyes had been puffy from crying and Diego’s hands had been wrapped in bloody bandages. After several heartfelt warnings, Diego had finally given her an ultimatum: she got clean or she got out. And, fool that she was, she chose meth. She would never forget how his face had contorted in grief as Brook grabbed his arm to steady him. Then he’d squared his jaw and cut her off…from everything and everyone. That was the last time she’d seen either of them. Kat’s life in the cartel’s inner circle was over. She had hated Diego for it at the time but, looking back, she really couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t left him any choice.
Her captor was never going to let her out alive. She knew exactly what her future held: she was going to die in this dark, cold room, but only after an endless line of nameless, faceless men had shoved their dicks into every hole she had. No way out, no escape, and no one to miss her enough to bother looking for her. She had made sure of that, hadn’t she?
Now, she was just dirty, inside and out -- and at the mercy of a psychopath who saw her as nothing but a lucrative collection of orifices. She wondered if she’d ever be able to see herself as anything more than that. Not that it mattered now.
Her worst fears were realized when there was a knock at the front door. Her captor’s nasal voice cut through the muffled hum of conversation as he greeted tonight’s customers. A sea of footsteps thudded across the floor of the room just above her head, steadily approaching the basement door. The door creaked open and a beam of light cut through the darkness.
“Gentlemen, welcome. Please, follow me. I think you’ll find everything you’re looking for downstairs. Cash only, of course.”
Chapter Twenty Three
Amber dozed lightly in Blue’s bed while Blue worked on her business plan on her laptop. They were killing a little time before heading out to see what leads they could find about the elusive Kat. Blue wanted to wait until the working girls were out and about for the evening.
A chime sounded, the muffled sound coming from inside the drawer of the nightstand. Blue shifted next to her and Amber heard the drawer slide open. The shrill chime was cut off abruptly as Blue took the call.
When Blue got up and moved over to stand by the window, Amber didn’t move a muscle, curious to listen in. The phone call had come through on a cell phone Blue seemed to have set aside for a specific purpose. She kept her voice down but Amber could still make out what she was saying.
“Well, well, Mister X. I didn’t expect to hear from you until playtime next week.” Blue’s words were husky, her throaty voice that of a woman in a low-flame, simmering state of sexual arousal. “Have you been a bad boy? Did you touch it?......You know I told you not to……You did? Oh, what am I going to do with you, X?......You just couldn’t wait, hmm? So naughty. Such a filthy, naughty boy……Did you come? No? Why not?......Oh, I see……I suppose I can help you out, just this once.”
Amber’s eyes shot open as she realized where the conversation was going. Blue was on the phone with a client; it sounded like he was a regular. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Blue’s ambitions to run an escort business were just an extension of her very successful solo efforts. She still had her own clients to…service. The thought brought a frown to Amber’s face. She closed her eyes and settled in for the show.
“Oh, what I’d do to you if I was…right…there……Well, first I’d spank you silly for being a bad boy and not doing what you’re told……You know you weren’t supposed to touch it. But I suppose I can’t really blame you. You have a very, very beautiful cock. So big and thick and delicious, with all those gorgeous veins that throb under my tongue whenever I lick it……Mm-hmm……If I were right there, I’d be on my knees with that big cock down my throat. It would be a tight fit, so you’d have to hold my head and force it in at first, wouldn’t you. I know how much you like doing that. I’d be struggling to breathe so I’d reach around and grab your ass and hold on tight. I’d dig my nails so hard into your ass, X. You’d have to explain the scratches to your wife……That’s right……She’d ask lots of questions, wouldn’t she?......She’d be very angry with you for having all those scratches you couldn’t explain…….Mm-hmm……I know you do, you like it so much……You’re close, aren’t you……About to blow sky high……I can hear it in your voice, baby.”
Blue leaned forward and frowned at a picture frame on the wall next to the window. It was slightly askew. She reached up and gently tapped at the lower corner to straighten it. She covered her mouth with her fingertips as she yawned silently. “But you wouldn’t care about what your wife thought, would you, not with me swallowing against your cock over and over again……So tight in my throat, cutting off all my air……What always happens next, do you remember?......That’s right……Which finger do you want this time?......I’d play with your asshole, then I’d press down hard with that finger and slide it deep inside you. But you know what? Because you’ve been so very bad, I’d use two……I know, baby……I’d shove two fingers deep inside your ass and stroke you and pet you until you pulled my head against you so hard and……There it is, that’s right, you’re coming so hard, aren’t you? I want it all, X, every bit of it.”
Blue stepped away from the window and strolled over to the master bathroom to lean against the doorjamb. Facing away from the bed, her whisper deepened, returning to a soft version of the more familiar tone she used in casual conversation. “No problem, X. My pleasure. Nope, that one’s on the house. That one was good-bye, baby. You were my last customer……I know, there should be balloons and confetti or something, right?” She laughed lightly. “I’m moving into management and won’t be working directly with clients anymore……Nope, my mind’s made up.
“If you’re interested, I can let you know when my new business is up and ru
nning. I’m sure I’ll have any number of special ladies to suit your needs......Maybe we’ll find you that wife you’re always wishing for.” Blue held her hand out in front of her and checked her manicure. She frowned at a chip in her polish then lowered the hand to her hip. “I’ll make sure she’s special and deserves you because you sure know how to make a girl feel good.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand in front of her in a ‘hurry up, hurry up’ motion, just wanting the conversation to be over. “Mm-hmm, you too. Take care. I’ll be in touch.”
Blue got back in bed, sighing as she tossed the cell phone aside. She surprised herself sometimes. The decision to leave the more ‘hands on’ side of her business behind had been spontaneous, the words coming out of her mouth not long after the idea had occurred to her. It felt right somehow.
Her eyes wandered over the curves of her little protégé napping on the bed beside her. While Blue had worked on her laptop most of the evening, Amber had busied herself with polishing her toenails a pretty candy pink. Blue chuckled as she slid the laptop into the nightstand drawer, along with her phone. They were having themselves a regular girly-girl sleepover. At this rate, they’d soon be braiding each other’s hair.
She leaned her head back against the headboard. The black, tufted leather panel reached halfway up the wall. It was an imposing decorative element that worked well with the penthouse’s contemporary lines. It also provided her with a comfortable vantage point for what was quickly becoming her favorite leisure activity: watching Amber sleep.
Amber had dozed off next to her an hour earlier. She looked so peaceful and content, like she belonged there in Blue’s bed. Blue groaned softly at the sight of her curves barely covered in a camisole, little boy shorts, and knee socks. It was like she couldn’t decide whether she was a little girl at a sleepover or a bombshell ready to strut her stuff on a stripper pole and relieve a roomful of middle-aged businessmen of all their lovely cash. Damn, but she’d love to see that. Maybe someday she’d take Amber to The Club and talk her into giving her a private show. Amber wasn’t a stripper by trade, but Blue was pretty sure that, with an ass like that, she’d figure it out just fine.
Daring Summer (Colombian Cartel Book 5) Page 11