“Wait. What are you doing?” she shouts over the music. She looks at me with surprise when recognition dawns on her face.
“Giving you what you have been wanting,” I toss a quick look at her waiting to see if she is going to refuse the invitation. There is no refusal as her eyes light up with desire. Just as I assume, she is more than willing to go anywhere and anytime.
I pull Mandy through the crowd of people into the quiet and empty men's restroom. Once I close the stall door, I hike her skirt up in a frenzy and rip her panties off of her and let them fall to the floor.
“Wow! What's gotten into you? I've only been anticipating this for like the past two years. I sure hope it's worth the time I've waited.” she murmurs against my neck as she begins to trail her tongue along my ear. I have no inclination to have any type of conversation with her. She is merely a means to an end. I need to fucking cum.
“Oh, trust me it is certainly worth the wait but what I am going to need you to do is keep that cute mouth closed and those pretty little legs open. It's easy really. Let's just make this an amazing fuck and leave it at that.” Cocky? Sure. Asshole move? Definitely. Do I give a shit at this moment? Fuck no!
I reach for the condom that always stays ready in my pocket and rip it from its wrapper and once she has my jeans unzipped, I slide the condom on my fully erect cock. I shove my hand over her mouth as I lift her up against the wall. I give myself enough time to run my fingers between her thighs and I am not surprised that she is already wet and ready for me.
I shove into her needy wet core and begin to pummel her as her legs wrap instinctively around my waist. Her cries are muffled as her teeth bite down on my hand. She responds willingly and unbuttons her top as my mouth searches desperately to find its way to the hardened flesh of her breast. My teeth nip at the sensitive flesh until I can taste the sweet crimson blood on my tongue. I am rough and all control is lost. I demand submission from her as I slam into her over and over.
“Holy fuck. You—feel—so—fucking—good,” she rasps against me as her rhythms begin to pick up pace to match my own. Her body tightens around me in an immediate response to the sensation of my cock invading her. Filling her.
Her nails pierce the flesh on the back of my shoulders deep until the burn begins to spread throughout my body, the pain pushes me closer to the edge.
When I feel her body begin to come undone and her release is right there on the edge, I rear back and bury myself into her so deep the orgasm erupts from her in a wave of violent tremors. It releases quick and her entire body begins to tremble. As her contractions grip me, I come undone. My cock explodes and I feel the long overdue release I need.
I pull myself out of her and toss the condom in the waste basket. I grip her legs and slide her down so that she stands on wobbling and weak legs. She is still lost in the aftermath of her orgasm. Her face is flushed and she averts eye contact. I know it's that damn good, I think to myself with a cocky grin pasted across my face.
There is no exchange of words. I clean myself up and zip my jeans. I walk out of the bathroom, leaving her there breathless and shaking, and make my way to the bar to order myself a bourbon. I join Summer as we wait for the guys to arrive.
Chapter Five
Summer
Several of the guys from the shop make their way through the packed night club to the back table in the corner where Damien and I are seated. Cash is first to arrive at the table. Damien introduces the fellas one by one. There is Zane who is a short, built, blonde covered in tattoos and piercings. Devon is almost as gorgeous as Damien, with his dark hair and green eyes. His athletic build and rugged demeanor are a concoction of pure sexuality and alpha hotness combined. He is recently single, a fact that decided to take up storage space in the back of my mind.
Through the brief conversation I have with him, he seems to be outgoing and appears to be the type of guy a girl could definitely have fun with. Trystan, who is referred to as Tryst by his friends, is tall and has the body of a Greek god. These guys are definitely easy on the eyes. These five are the closest out of all the artists that work at the shop. This is without a doubt Damien's crew. The few he allowed into his inner world. Watching the brotherhood between them was refreshing. I was so used to people competing for attention in the modeling world, that I had forgotten what it was like to actually have a group of friends who could just be themselves.
After introductions are done, I manage to slip away from the table and head to the bar to order another drink. The waitress behind the bar is a cute blonde who looks like she is barely eighteen. I am sure she is a selling point for many of the inebriated men who are cluttered around the bar ogling her. It would be hard to miss her perky breasts that stretch against the skimpy top she has on. No bra? Yep, those are definitely fake. She probably has some sugar daddy waiting in the wings to buy her anything her heart desires.
I order a shot and after downing that, order another drink. This one a cherry amaretto sour. I am sipping on my drink and texting Michelle when I am bumped from behind. My drink goes all over me, drenching me and my phone. The asshole doesn't even say excuse me or bother to apologize. Maybe it is the alcohol or it could be the sexual tension that has me wound tighter than a two dollar watch, but I am fucking pissed.
“Hey, asshole!” I shout over the loud techno music that reverberates through the club. “At least look where you are going, dick face.”
“Excuse me? Did your mother teach you to talk with that fucking mouth bitch?” the arrogant asshole slurs. He is so drunk his speech is littered with spit. Total lack of respect.
“What the hell is going on over here? You okay, Summer?” Damien and his crew line up around the asshole stranger. Of course, Damien, can't resist the urge to come to the rescue, as if I need someone to save me. Someone needs to let him know I do not need to be rescued like some little whimpering twit who can't defend herself. I got this shit. I know how to handle assholes better than most. I tap the bar and order another drink from the bartender.
“Well, this asshole not only bumps into me and spills my drink all over me, he ruins my phone and doesn't have the fucking balls to at least apologize.”
The asshole steps towards me. “I can show you how big my fucking balls are bitch if you want to drop to your knees,” He grabs his cock through his jeans and starts to shake it at me. Fucking prick.
I grab the newly mixed drink in front of me and stand up from the bar stool. I take a sip and pull the straw out of the glass nonchalantly. Before he can see it coming, I throw the drink in the asshole's face. While he is busy sputtering, the sound of my hand resonating against the side of his face makes jaws drop as the guys watch on in half disbelief and half amazement. I do not give this dick face the chance to say anything before I finish getting my point across.
I reach down, and with a steeled grip, I grab the strangers cock and squeeze my hand around him so hard his body leans in to me to relieve some of the pressure.
“Let's get a few things straight, shall we? Number one. If you bump a lady, you say excuse me. It's called fucking manners. Number two. You do not call a lady a bitch. And number three. If you ever shake your pathetic little excuse of a cock at me again, which feels more like a wet fucking Vienna sausage, I will make sure that you never regain the ability to have children in this lifetime. Do you feel like we have a much better understanding of one another now?” I ask reinforcing my tight grip on him. He shakes his head, his face mangled with pain, to nod yes.
Satisfied that I get my point across to the asshole and anyone else who might decide they want to tango with me tonight, I let go of his shriveled up cock and turn back to order another drink.
Damien and Cash grab the stranger up from the floor and walk him out of the club.
“Damn girl. You handled your business like a champ,” Devon says in awe.
“Hell yeah. That shit was awesome! Remind me to never get on your bad side,” Zane followed.
“Well, what can I say? That as
shole deserved it. I am not like most women and I have no patience or tolerance for assholes.” I might be a little shitfaced. The two drinks and the two shots have me two sheets to the wind. I am way past tipsy but with that shit already forgotten, I am having a good time. Damien's idea to get me out of the house to meet the guys is good for me. I feel comfortable around them and I begin to let my defenses down. Devon orders a round of tequila from the bartender as we make small talk.
“To Summer. One bad ass broad,” he toasts as we clink the shot glasses together. I toss the tequila back and now all I want to do is dance.
“Hey Devon, care to dance with the new girl in town?” I ask flirtatiously. He is so freaking handsome. Those dimples could melt the panties off of any female.
“Sure.” He says as he takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor just as the music switches up to a slow song. Devon pulls me in close as I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. His hands slide down my back and rest at the waist of my shorts. I am fully fucking aware how close his hands are to my ass. I am not a whore by any means, but I can't help but imagine the feel of his hands gripping my ass.
“So tell me a little about yourself. Is this your normal scene?” I ask. I want to know more about him. Part of me feels the desire to make Damien jealous considering he hasn't stopped glaring daggers in our direction since we have been on the dance floor. There is a part of me that was both hurt and pissed when I watched him sneak off to the restroom with that bimbo. I don't like feeling jealous or possessive, especially when we are barely friends. I could remember a time we were best friends. It seems so long ago and now it feels like the person who once knew me the best is a complete stranger. All I can think about is giving him a taste of his own medicine.
Lost in thought, I don't hear a single word Devon has said which makes me feel like a total bitch. Right now the only thing I can focus on is the fact that my head is starting to spin. Fortunately, the song is coming to an end. I just happen to look across the room and catch Damien with his eyes locked on me in a cold stare. I swear he is just about seeing red at this point. Knowing this only encourages me to build up the nerve to fuel a reaction. I lock eyes right back with him as I reach up and pulled Devon's head down and I begin to kiss him. Slowly, my tongue probes against his lips until I am granted entrance. Our mouths lock in a dance all their own. Devon pulls me in closer by the belt loops of my blue jean shorts. His mouth devours me as his tongue traces the corners of my lips. I get lost in the moment. Except in my mind, it's Damien standing there with me. It has been a while since I have really been kissed like that and Devon is a very skilled and masterful kisser. My body becomes lazy under his lips and his strong hands reach down and grip my ass, pressing me further into him. His cock is hard and fucking huge. I can feel the throbbing of him against my belly.
When the kiss ends, I can't help but feel weak in the knees. I imagine that Devon is a very sensual lover if that kiss is just a taste test. He could easily devour a woman with the most erotic touch.
“Damn. That was one hell of a kiss,” He says as he grabs my hand and leads me back to the table. Damien is furious. His body is tense and his jaw is set in indignation, as he refuses to make eye contact with me. I knew if it had been anyone other than Devon, he would already be trying to beat their ass to a bloody pulp.
Devon tugs me over to him and playfully sits me in his lap. I assume this is his gesture at claiming me for the night. I sit there and enjoy the rest of my drink as I watch Damien pout like a little boy whose favorite toy has just been taken away. Asshole deserves as much. What makes him think that he can go screw some skank in the bathroom and get jealous over what I am doing? That was just a double standard. I'll be damned if I live by anyone's standards other than my own.
I am smart enough to know if I push him too hard it will make things at work awkward. I have seen how ruthless Damien can be when provoked. I start feeling nauseous again and excuse myself to the ladies room. Before I can get the stall door closed, I am already vomiting into the toilet. My head and stomach hurt and everything starts spinning way too fast. I barely hear the ladies room door creak open when Damien appears behind me. He pulls my hair into a pony tail and holds it out of the way as I throw up three more times in the toilet.
“I don't feel so good,” I whine as I slump onto the cold dirty concrete floor of the stall.
“Come on baby girl. Let's get you home so you can sleep it off,” Damien says as he tries to get me to my feet. I push him away and I try to stand up on my own and stumble. Shit! There goes my vision. Damien picks me up and carries me out of the restroom. The guys are already making their way over from the bar.
“She is sick. I am going to get her home. I'll see you fellas on Monday,” Damien says as he nods his goodbyes to the guys. I vaguely remember him placing me in the passenger seat of the car and buckling me in. Oh God. I hope I don't get sick and throw up in his nice car. I will be so mortified.
I fall asleep as soon as we pull out of the parking lot.
***
The next morning, I wake up and look at the alarm clock. It is a little after noon and my head is pounding. The sun is shining so bright through the windows, it only intensifies my raging headache. I roll out of bed desperate to fix myself a cup of coffee and take something to kill this obscenely annoying hangover. I notice I am in my black lace bra and panties from last night but no clothes. Where were my clothes? I look around the room and finally notice they are folded and placed on the laundry basket that sits in the corner of the bathroom.
I don't remember coming home, much less getting undressed. It dawns on me as I remember Damien putting me in the car last night. He must have put me to bed. He undressed me. He has seen me almost naked. I am starting to stress the fuck out now. Did anything happen between us that I don't remember or that I'll regret? Did I try to get him in bed? I have so many questions and no answers. How in the hell am I going to face him tomorrow? I need ibuprofen and I need them now. I scour through the medicine cabinet until I locate the nearly empty bottle. I pop four in my mouth and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth. After getting rid of the god awful vomit taste that still lingered from last night, I step into the shower.
I allow the water to wash away the remaining hangover. My hair now clean, I step out of the shower and slip into a clean pair of panties and bra.
I make my way to the kitchen, I must have caffeine. I allowed myself to drink entirely too much last night and today I was paying the price. Hangovers are hell.
I turn on the coffee pot and reach for my favorite I Love New York coffee mug out of the cabinet. I was just about to place it on the bar when I see movement out of the corner of my eyes.
I scream and the coffee cup hits the floor, shattering into pieces at my feet.
“Summer, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you,” Damien says as he approaches. “Don't move, let me get something to clean that up so you don't cut your foot.” He grabs the broom and dust pan from the laundry room and kneels down to pick up the bigger pieces before he starts to sweep up the small shards of broken glass.
“What are you doing here?” I manager to mutter.
“Well, last night when I got you home, you threw up a few more times. You were so sick I didn't want to leave you alone in case you needed me. So I just grabbed a pillow off of the bed. I searched the hall closet for a blanket and crashed on the couch. I really thought I would wake up and be gone before you got up but I didn't hear the alarm on my phone and I overslept.”
He glanced up at me, waiting for me to respond. It is only when his eyes go dark and begin to color with heated arousal, that I remember that I am only clothed in my lace bra and panties. Could this get any worse?
“Summer, you are so beautiful,” Damien whispers huskily. His eyes worship my body as they travel up my legs and linger at the center of my thighs. My pulse quickens as he slowly gets to his feet. His eyes leave a blazing a trail of desire up my bare stomach to my breasts. I can feel my heartbe
at strumming at a steady pace. My mouth is dry and I cannot form the simplest of words to speak. His hand moves up to my face as his fingers begin to trace my quivering lips. Volts of prickling electricity fire off and shock me at my core. In this moment, I am fully exposed to him, mentally and physically. Needing. Yearning. Longing. He leans in slowly, baring his soul as he looks through my eyes, into the deepest parts of me, and his lips meet mine. His tongue dances passionately with mine, probing and searching, and with a primal need he takes control. A groan escapes him as our tongues mingle and set our bodies on fire, squirming in the wicked flames of lust.
By the time he retreats back to look at me, my face is flushed and my breath is coming in shallow spurts. He has taken my resistance away and made me want him. My body responds to his touch with wanton abandon. I can't find my voice. His reaction, is visible not only in his erection, but in the way his hands are shaking.
We want one another with a need that is undeniable and a passion that is just simmering beneath the surface. Yet, we both know that caving to our desires could change everything. Some things you can't come back from and Damien and I need time to find our way back as friends before we take the chance on ruining that.
“I...I think...I think I am going to get dressed. I'll be right back.” I struggle to find the courage to fill the silence between us. I have to break this trance that we are stuck in before there is no going back. I wasn't ready to do this. Not with him. I knew what the outcome would be if I fell under his spell. It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was everything that my brain was telling me to run from. My heart on the other hand, told me that I knew this man and I knew that we would find our way back to who we used to be with one another. I was as conflicted as one person could be. So what do I do?
I dodge the bullet and run.
Dared (Boneyard Bad Boy #1) Page 5