“Conners, man, cool it. I was just playing,” Greyson says, but fuck if I don’t want to break his hands, or better yet, his face. If he so much as tries to touch her again, I’ll fucking lose it.
“Yeah, well enough. Stay the fuck away from her!” She’s mine! I think to myself, wanting to stake my claim on this girl, but I don’t. I look at Payton and see that she’s pressing her thighs together. Fuck, my girl’s definitely turned on in a bad way. I’m wondering how wet she is for me when she turns away and heads toward the bar.
“Payton, we need to talk,” I say, approaching behind her, my body almost pressing against her back. I’m pretty sure she just fucking flinched. She moves away from the bar, so that she’s out in the open. What the fuck’s that about?
She asks me what I’m doing here, but I’m sure she already knows that I’m on the job. But what I want to know is what’s she doing here? “I’m working. What the fuck are you doing here?” I ask. I need to know if she’s here permanently, because if she is, it’s game on.
“What’s it look like, Conners? I’m working, too,” she hisses at me. It’s not my name, but damn if it doesn’t sound hot-as-fuck. Payton sounds hot when she’s pissed.
“Don’t do this, Payton. I meant what the fuck are you doing in Del Mar? Are you living here now?” I demand.
She tells me it’s none of my business, then turns and walks away from me. My eyes land on her unbelievably toned ass, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s totally shaking it just for me. I watch as she stops to talk to a Hispanic male, who I’m assuming is the club owner. He doesn’t look happy, but he lets her go.
I head to the bathroom, and once in there, splash cold water on my face. Payton’s in town. Things are definitely looking up for me tonight. Making the decision to give her some space, I go back and spend the rest of the evening watching everyone get fucking hammered and trying to keep them from groping the poor server and new bartender. This is so far from being over. Payton just doesn’t know it yet.
* * *
Pulse is now closed, and I’m outside waiting for her to come out. All the other employees have already left, except for Payton. What the fuck’s keeping her? I’m about to go all Neanderthal and go kick the door in and haul her out by her hair, when the side door opens. I watch as she locks the door and then turns and walks toward her car with a smile on her face.
I call out her name. She stills for a second, but keeps walking toward her car, pretending she doesn’t hear me. Hell fucking no, she’s not going to ignore me. She’s going to listen to what I have to say, whether she wants to or not. Payton picks up the pace as I chase after her. She’s pulling the door open, but I make it there in time and slam it shut again. She’s not fucking going anywhere until we talk. I turn her around; her eyes are looking everywhere but at me.
“What, Jack? What do you want?” she shouts at me. I see her eyes roam over my body as she checks me out. She has a gorgeous flush on her cheeks when she looks away from me again. Well fuck me; Payton’s turned on again. Both of my heads are screaming for me to claim her right here, right now, and I’m not fighting them any longer.
I say her name again as I push her against the Charger, and all I can think is Finally. I burrow my face into her neck and bite, lick, and kiss her there. I want to bite, lick, and kiss her pussy, too, and my cock loves that fucking idea. I feel her pull in a deep breath against my neck, and I wrap her hair around my hand, pulling her head back so I can devour her mouth. As we kiss, I feel her legs wobble as if they’re going to give out on her.
“Jack,” she moans into my mouth.
My hands go to her ass, and I quickly hoist her up on the hood of her car. Her long legs wrap around my waist, and her hands glide over my torso. I fucking need her so badly. I’ve wanted her for so long, and now I’m finally going to fucking have her again. “Fuck, baby. I need you,” I groan against her soft lips, slowly trailing my hands down her tight body. When I get to the hem of her jean skirt, I grab the edge and pull it up so that it gathers at her waist.
I move one of my hands to her panty-covered pussy to feel how wet she is. She’s not wet—she’s fucking drenched. I feel the pre-cum form at the head of my cock. “Just how I remembered, so ready for me,” I say through my breath as I push the thong aside and gently stroke the hot, wet, swollen flesh. Her body tenses a bit as I push two fingers inside her.
She quickly relaxes and arches her body into me, pushing her tits against my chest. I feel her hard nipples rubbing against my chest. I don’t have to over think this too much as I suck the sensitive peaks through the thin fabric of her shirt. My fingers start fucking her and get an instant reaction. She releases a deep moan from the back of her throat, and I know I need to taste her again, right fucking now.
I push her away from me and watch her lean against the hood on her elbows. She watches me intently as I pull my fingers out of her pussy and bring them to my mouth, sucking her sweet juices off of them. I love the taste and smell of this woman; it drives me fucking crazy with need. “Had a lot of women spread for me, but none tasted as sweet as you,” I groan, and if I’m not mistaken I think she opens her legs even wider for me.
I drop to my knees and softly bite her through her panties, but I want more. I quickly pull the flimsy scrap of material to the side and go directly for her sensitive clit. I suck the swollen piece of flesh into my mouth as I reintroduce my fingers to her hot pussy. Within seconds, I hear her moan and feel her inner muscles pulse against my tongue and around my fingers—trying to pull them deeper into her body.
I stand back up and rush to release my cock from my pants so I can pound into her body. “Oh baby, I fucking missed this,” I say, leaning in closer to her warm body. A pained expression flashes across her face. What the fuck did I say?
“Who the fuck do you think you are? You come here and expect me to just, what, fuck you? Get away from me!” she screams, tears building up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
I ask her what she’s talking about, but she refuses to answer me. As she hops down from the car, fixing her skirt, she informs me that she has to leave, she has a boyfriend, and I should leave her alone. She just fucking blew me off and not in the way that I want. Bull-fucking-shit she has a boyfriend! There’s no way that she has a fucking boyfriend and hell will freeze over before I leave her alone again. She pulls the car door open and gets in, closing it quickly and locking the doors.
I hit her window with my fists. “Payton, don’t do this,” I beg her as she drives away from me. What the fuck just happened? I walk over toward my car with my cock still hard and the taste of Payton still in my mouth. I drive back home to my new condo alone. Not how I had the rest of the night planned.
Once I’m home, I head directly for the bathroom and start the shower. Glancing down at the painful erection pressing against the crotch of my pants, I realize I’ve got to get rid of it or I won’t be able to sleep tonight. I strip off my clothes and step into the shower, the hot spray hitting my back. Gripping the base of my cock, I start stroking my hard shaft as visions of Payton spread for me against her car enter my head. I lean forward and press my forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall as my strokes increase in intensity and eventually, I yell out my release.
I get out of the shower, dry off, pull on a pair of boxer-briefs, and crawl into bed. Whatever the fuck’s going on with Payton’s going to get fucking sorted. The thought of her being in my bed again makes my dick twitch and start to come back to life. Jesus Christ, this is going to be a long fucking night!
Chapter 4
Take That
I wake up around four in the afternoon, nursing a killer headache. Tequila’s always been a cocksucking motherfucker to me. Ugh, I feel like death. I slowly open my eyelids to the stinging of the sunlight streaming in through the window. Damn it! I forgot to shut the curtains before we passed out. I blink a few times, hoping my eyes will adjust. Carefully sitting up on the sofa, I look around for Ella, but she’s not here. I swi
ng my legs around to the floor and feel my stomach lurch. How much did I drink last night? I vaguely remember finishing off the bottle, but there couldn’t have been that much in it, right?
“Payton!” I hear Amber, my other roommate, yell from the kitchen. You’d think I was half way across town the way she’s shouting my name. This isn’t helping my head. I need pills, now.
“What?” I mumble, as I steady myself on my feet. Must make it to bathroom. Must get ibuprofen. I feel like a zombie … must eat brains.
“I was saving that booze, you idiot!” Oh shit! That was the super special tequila I drank.
“I had a rough shift, I needed it,” I spit out, hoping that’s enough of an explanation for drinking the bottle she’d been saving for five months. Well, the bottle she thought she’d saved for almost a half a year. I may have dipped into it a couple times over. Usually, I have time to hide the evidence and replace it before she notices. Really, it’s just a bottle of alcohol. She can open another one when her man returns home from Afghanistan in a little over a month. It’s not like it’s a special blend or anything. Just a bottle her man gave her at the airport saying some gag-worthy cutesy thing about being able to drink it to celebrate when he gets home.
Please, like he’s really held off without sex the whole time he’s been gone. Men are all the same … they’re dogs. He probably screwed one of the female soldiers the minute they landed. Or hell, the minute the seat belt sign cleared on the airplane. Joined the mile-high club, maybe? I know I can be cynical sometimes, but really, it’s hard to think of men in a positive light. But enough about my man hating for a little bit.
“You’re going to have a rough day now, too, bitch! I can’t believe you did that!” she shrieks.
I think I should go into work early today; this isn’t looking good. For the most part, my roomies and I get along great. They’re both partygoers and outrageous, which is exactly what I like to portray. Every now and then, though, I tend to pull stupid shit; this would be one of those times.
Before Amber can exact whatever torture I’m sure she has planned for me, I manage to crawl into the bathroom. I raid the cabinet for pills, cup my hand under the faucet for a bit of water to wash the two capsules down, and wait for them to work their magic. This is becoming too much of a habit. Could my lifestyle finally be catching up to me? No time to ponder life and the hole I’ve dug myself into. If I plan on escaping the house alive, I’m going to have to shower and wake up from my daze in record time.
I manage to sneak back to my room after my record-breaking shower. As I’m changing into my dark wash skinny jeans and form fitting white Pulse t-shirt, I recall the events of last night.
The reason for my most recent tequila binge resurfaces. Jack’s in town. Jack. Is. Back. And that’s not the worst part. He only sees me as an easy piece of tail. I thought he was different, and maybe I’d found someone special. Not that I thought I’d ever see him again. I was okay with having special for a short time. It’s longer than I thought I’d ever get to have special for, but now he fucked even that up for me. This is what happens when you let someone in—even a little. If he didn’t take the hint last night, and he can be pretty persistent and stubborn from what I remember, he’ll be back. Shit! He’s going to be back.
I don’t know what possessed me to blurt out that I had a boyfriend last night, but now I need to find myself one, immediately. Then maybe Jack might leave me the hell alone. I scroll down my contact list on my cell. I need a stand-in boyfriend, someone intimidating enough to get Jack off my case. Someone who knows I can’t give them more, and someone who won’t want more.
You’d think that’d be easy enough, the way I get around. I send a few texts out to see if I can get some man-meat out tonight. The more I have to choose from, the better. Or maybe I’ll try my luck with one of the regulars at the bar. Some of them are creepy as fuck and look like they have the potential to be stalkers, but there’s one or two that seem half normal. I wish myself good luck and head into work.
Lazy Joe is in his usual spot right inside the doorway. He’s one of our night bouncers and is everything his name suggests. Thankfully, we don’t get many overly rowdy patrons, and when we do, there are other bouncers inside, if needed. I give Joe the usual head nod as I squeeze past him.
The bar itself is pretty slow at the moment, being early evening and all. No man-candy to strike a deal with yet. Hopefully, the odds get better as my shift progresses, and the people pour in. I quickly glance over the job-assignment schedule for tonight and see that I’m working the shooter bar. Perfect, I love shots!
The first few hours of my shift drag out. It usually does when you work the early one. The bar doesn’t usually pick up until after ten at the earliest. I’ve spent most of my time so far prepping the place.
It’s a little after eight when I notice Dag Sanchez walk in. He’s one of the many notches in my bedpost and probably one of the hotter ones, too. He’s so fine looking he’d probably give a nun hot flashes with his thick black hair and rich chocolate brown eyes. It’s been about a month since I saw him last, mainly because I don’t go searching for a man after I’ve slept with him. I guess I’m like a guy in that sense. Wham. Bam. Thank you, man. Well, that, and he started seeing his baby mama again. That’s not the kind of drama I like to get myself into.
I make eye contact with him as he saunters toward the bar in my direction and rewards me with his trademark sexified grin. This man knows how to work it. Dag’s not a frequenter of Pulse. He’s only been here one other time that I can recall. We actually met at another bar on one of my binges. The fact that he’s here now means he wants something. And by the tell-tale bedroom eyes he’s flashing my way, I’d say that something’s me. Hmm. This could work in my favor. Maybe I can make him work for a piece of this ass. A little tit for tat, perhaps? What’s the worst that can happen? And I probably just jinxed the whole thing! But really, we’d both be getting what we want. If he’s here, then he and baby mama must be on the outs.
“Hey there, sexy,” Dag says to me, his voice holding a slight Spanish accent.
“Hey stranger,” I tease.
“Now, now, Mamacita. You know I would’ve come sooner if you’d just asked.” Ah, I see, two can apparently play this game.
“I’d prefer not to get bitch slapped by a woman. Speaking of which, she’s not going to send her brothers after me, is she?” I banter.
“Ah, babe, I got sick of her ways. Came looking for a good time—make me forget my worries.” Always the charmer.
“Sorry, Dag. I don’t have time to make repeat performances.”
“Ah, but this wasn’t just any performance. You and I were a masterpiece.”
“A once in a lifetime deal, buddy,” I remind him.
“Anything as good as what we were, is worth trying again,” Dag says in the sultry voice that got him in my pants the first time. He’s definitely pulling out all the stops.
“Tell you what, Dag. If you want this so bad, you have to do something for me. I’m breaking one of my main rules if I do this.”
“See, that’s the problem with you women, you always have these rules. Always have to have some control over everything. Live a little, life might surprise you.”
“I’ve had enough surprises in my lifetime.” None of them good, I think to myself.
“Okay, I’ll humor you. As long as I’m picking you up from your shift tonight, and you’re shaking that fine ass in my face,” he concedes.
“You get me tonight, no holds barred, if, and only if, you pretend to be my man for the next couple of weeks.” I know this will intrigue him.
“And that’s a favor for you?” he laughs. “Chica, you still have much to learn. We have a deal. Can I ask why a fine woman like you needs someone to pretend?” he asks with humor.
“It’s a long story. The only thing you need to know is that this is pretend. You’ll be getting more than what you want, and I’ll be getting what I want out of it. It ends when I say it
does, and we need to look like the real deal. Nothing real’s going to come of this, so don’t even think this is some ploy for me to be the next baby mama.” I have to make sure he gets the whole picture.
“I think I can handle that, and I can more than handle you, hot mama. You better be ready at two o’clock. I’m picking you up, and it’s going to be a long night,” he whispers in my ear while trailing his finger down the front of my shirt. Dag gives me a wink and struts out the bar just as fast as he appeared.
That seemed a little too easy. At least my liver won’t be suffering tomorrow morning. I need something to try to take my mind off Jack. Though for some reason, I think I’m going to regret this decision.
It’s about ten minutes after two, when I come out of the change room in a hoodie, yoga pants and flip-flops. Hey, don’t judge me. I just spent the last eight hours sweating it out in a hot, steamy dance club wearing sexy fuck me shoes that are far from being comfortable. Who cares that there’s going to be a very attractive Hispanic man waiting for me when I get off of work, and all I have to offer him is me in my workout clothes. If he has anything to say about it, I won’t be wearing anything for very much longer anyway.
Dag’s leaning against my car in the parking lot when I walk outside. Shit! I forgot about my baby. I can’t leave her parked here overnight. What if someone does something to her, or worse, tries to steal her? This isn’t going to work for me. I make my way over to him at the same time I hear the rumble of a motorcycle in the distance. As I reach him, Dag grabs me by the hand and hauls me into his hard body, crushing his lips against mine. You can do this, Payton, I think to myself, trying to forget about the tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. He’s a good kisser, but he’s no Jack. That guy must’ve gotten a Master’s Degree in kissing because he’s seriously skilled. Jesus, can’t I stop thinking about him for two fucking seconds! The reason for my thoughts of Jack is because that rumbling sound’s getting a whole lot closer, distracting me.
Sweet Ride Page 4