The Darkling Hunters_Fox Company Alpha
Page 28
Lucky fuck.
“Definitely ain’t cops,” Ryker said with a chuckle.
There goes that theory, Marlon thought. He’d assumed Levi sent out his warning because someone from the FBI was on his tail. The guy probably had enough warrants out for his arrest to wallpaper this entire building. But if they weren’t cops, who were they? Marlon drummed his fingertips on the bar top.
“Keep an eye on them,” he said, rising as he spoke. “I need to make a phone call.”
“With pleasure,” Ryker said with a lecherous chuckle.
Marlon rolled his eyes and walked away, phone in hand.
◆◆◆
Sydney watched Marlon stalk away from the bar. Shit. Time for plan B.
With a sensual groan that wasn’t entirely faked, she took a fistful of Dex’s hair and pulled his face away from her pussy. His chin glistened with her juices, his eyes dazed with lust. It took everything she had not to drag Sam forward and command him to lick every last drop off Dex’s face. Fuck, that would be hot…
“Go get us some cocktails,” she said in a thick, husky voice. Dex blinked, uncomprehending, so she tipped her chin toward the bar. “Marlon’s lackey is sitting there watching us. Go chat him up.”
Dex blinked several more times, clearly trying to wipe the lust from his brain, and finally nodded. Unable to resist, Sydney swiped her thumb across his chin and lower lip, gathering the evidence of her pleasure. Then she sat back, keeping eye-contact with Dex, and rubbed her wet thumb all over Sam’s lips. Both men groaned, and Sydney responded with a wicked little smile. She sucked the remaining taste off her thumb as Sam licked his lips.
“Go now,” she said tipping her chin toward the bar again. “Marlon just went off somewhere. Now might be the best time to get intel off his henchman.”
“I hope these people don’t get freaked out by the sight of a hard-on,” Dex grumbled, rising to his feet. An enticing bulge seemed to throb beneath his tight black jeans.
Sam chuckled. “Trust me, no one is going to get freaked out. If anything, someone’s going to try and jump you. Goddamn De…Max. You look like a fucking supermodel.”
Dex rolled his eyes, but his ears and neck were turning red again. He glanced at Sydney as if to check her reaction. She gave him her best I want to ride you until I pass out sexy stare.
“Jesus Christ,” Dex cursed, reaching down to adjust his jeans. He turned away before either one of them could say another word.
Sydney settled in beside Sam, enjoying the view as Dex walked away. God, that man was perfection. That ass in those jeans, combined with that sexy leather harness? Impossible not to want him. Everyone else in the room seemed to agree, because most people stopped to admire him as he passed by.
Sam stroked her outer thigh, squeezing a little. “Maybe we should pull down that skirt,” he said right against her ear. “You’re giving everyone an even better show than he is right now.”
Sydney thought about it—then had a better idea. She shifted sideways and straddled Sam’s lap in one fluid motion, caging him beneath her body. Sam gasped, his hands flying up to cup her ass as she ground herself against his zipper.
“Shows not over,” she purred, capturing Sam’s lips in a deep, tongue-sucking kiss. She tasted herself on his tongue and groaned as she delved for more. She flexed her hips, rising up just a little so she had room to maneuver. Sam didn’t try to stop her as she popped the button on his slacks and pulled down the zipper.
“Your job,” she said, panting slightly between each word, “is to keep my skirt down over my ass. Think you can do that? Think you can protect my vanity while I ride you?”
“Fuck,” Sam groaned. “Woman, you are going to be the death of me.” But he gathered two fistfuls of the hem of her skirt, pulling the stretchy fabric downward. The position effectively shackled him in place, giving him no option but to let her do as she pleased. Sydney hummed her approval, pushing his shorts down out of the way, and his cock popped free, so hard and thick it made her mouth water. Humming with anticipation, she shifted forward, notching the broad, mushroom-shaped head at her pussy entrance.
“Get ready,” she purred. “This is going to be one hell of a ride.”
Sam groaned—and so did everyone watching. Sydney hid a self-satisfied smirk behind a lusty smile. If nothing else, they’d made an impression on the crowd.
Here’s hoping Marlon gets the same impression.
◆◆◆
If anyone had asked Dex where he’d be at this point in his professional career, he would not have answered “walking through a warehouse full of people with a hard-on.” Especially since that wasn’t just a dangling modifier—everywhere he looked, guys were sporting thick bulges beneath their belts. He’d assumed, at first, that it was the result of them watching what he’d been doing to Sydney; the sight of a beautiful woman in the throes of passion would do that to just about any guy, after all. But when Dex looked around, he found half the guys staring, not toward Sydney, but at him.
Guess now I know what it feels like to be treated like a piece of meat. Dex grimaced and kept walking.
Marlon’s henchman was still sitting at the bar, watching Dex approach. He made a point to meet the bald biker’s eyes. No use pretending not to notice him or realize who he was—Sydney’s little display of strength the other night, when she’d almost broken the guy’s finger, would make him memorable to anyone with half a brain. So instead of trying to act casual, Dex shot the guy his best don’t fuck with me glare and sidled up to the bar as if he owned the place.
“Glad you’re having a good time,” the bald guy said. His dirt-brown eyes were as dead as the darkest pit of hell. Darkling.
“Glad you’re minding your business,” Dex said, signaling for the attention of the barkeeper. The man gave him a hurried nod, but he was hip-deep in customers already, so he couldn’t come over right then. Dex heaved what he hoped sounded like a long-suffering sigh and plonked himself down on a barstool.
The bald guy sauntered over, leaning one elbow on the bar and looking out over the crowd. Trying—and failing—to act casual. “You looked right pretty, down there on your knees. Makes me wonder what else you like to suck on.” Dex shot him a scowl—and saw lust dancing behind the guy’s expression.
Great. I’m getting hit on by a darkling biker-dude who looks like a ZZ-Top reject. Just fucking great.
Dex flashed his teeth. It wasn’t even close to a smile. “Gee, I don’t know, bald guy who hasn’t told me his name. Why don’t you go ask your boss?”
The guy snorted. “Ryker. And you’re the one who should be talking to my boss. Bet he’d love to find out why you’re so willing to get on your knees for that whore.”
Dex sneered and looked away, making a show of trying to catch the bartender’s attention again. “I just do what I’m told.”
“I’ll just bet you do.” Ryker sidled closer. “She got something over you? Got your balls in a vice? Come on, man, it’s gotta be something. Big guy like you only gets on his knees if someone makes him.”
Bad guy making a bad attempt at psychological interrogation. Lovely. Dex didn’t even bother responding.
Ryker took a sip of beer, dead eyes boring into the side of Dex’s head. “So, that Cam guy runs the business, if I remember correctly. What kind of business was it again?”
“Girls,” Dex said, voice flat. “Expensive girls. The kind you’d never get to touch in a million years. The kind your boss couldn’t afford if he robbed Fort Knox.” He made a show of perking up, as if a thought had just occurred to him. “Where is he, by the way? He invited us to this shindig. Would help our negotiations if he actually decided to show up.”
“He’s around,” Ryker said pleasantly. “Might not think you’re worth his time, though. Marlon’s funny like that. Lots of people come up here, talking a big game and spouting shit about profits. Twat-lickers like you aren’t real high on his personal to-do list.”
“Come now, Ryker. Don’t be rude.”
“So, you did decide to show up to your own party,” Dex said.
“That I did. And so did you.” One threadbare eyebrow lifted over a dead, soulless eye. “Quite a feat. You and your friends must be very dangerous to have come through my little test unscathed.”
Dex kept his expression carefully blank. “Try harder next time.”
Marlon’s lips twitched. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He tipped his head toward the couch-booth where Sydney and Sam still sat. “Looks like your friends are having fun without you.”
Unable to resist, Dex peeked over his shoulder—and saw Sydney straddling Sam, moving up and down in a slow, sensual rhythm. His hands were tangled in the stretchy fabric of her skirt, obviously holding it down as she moved on top of him. Every single person in the nearby vicinity was watching the two of them, their eyes glittering with open lust. It should have bothered him—except he was having a hard time hiding the lust on his own face.
The two of them were so fucking beautiful together. Sydney, head thrown back, muscles quivering as she rode Sam’s cock. Sam, teeth clenched, jaw tight as he endured the pleasure she gave him. Fuck, he could watch them all day. There was just something so electrifying, watching a small woman keep a man twice her size effectively chained beneath her. Sam could have thrown her off, put her on her back or knees, taken over control in an instant. But, he didn’t. He let Sydney do as she pleased, working to keep her skirt down so her ass wasn’t on display for the whole room to see. That small bit of concern, that willingness to protect her vulnerability, made every part of Dex’s body sizzle with desire.
Dex held back a groan and turned back—only to find Marlon watching him with an avid, curious expression. Expecting jealousy, perhaps? Dex let a half-smile turn the corner of his lip. “She rides me like that, too.”
For just the briefest of moments, Dex saw lust flare in those dead, soulless eyes. Then Marlon’s expression cleared, and he stood with a business-like air. “Come with me, please. I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”
Dex went rigid. “I’m just getting some drinks. My friends are—”
“Occupied,” Marlon cut him off. “They won’t miss you. And the ‘please’ was rhetorical, Mr. Peterson. This is not a request.”
Mr. Peterson. Shit. I never gave him my full name when he questioned us. How the fuck does he know my last name? Dex stared at Marlon, fear roiling through his gut. Should he make a scene? Start yelling and screaming to get Sam and Syd’s attention? Use one of Sydney’s flash-bangs?
“Before you consider fighting back,” Marlon said, his tone unnaturally casual, “please note that while I instructed my party guests to arrive unarmed, I assure you, my men are not. I have snipers stationed in the rafters who will not hesitate to remove a threat to my person.” His dead eyes glittered. “You really have no choice, Mr. Peterson.”
Dex slid off his barstool and turned around—only to find himself surrounded by three large, burly men who blocked his view of the booth. He found himself looking into three sets of hard, stone-cold eyes that dared him to run.
Feigning a casualness he didn’t feel, Dex slipped his thumbs into his belt and faced Marlon with a raised eyebrow. “Well? Lead the way.”
Marlon tipped his head in an ironic bow. “Glad we could come to an understanding. This way, please.” He pivoted on one foot and marched off with a single glance backward. The three goons herded Dex forward, forcing him to keep pace. Dex clamped his teeth, fists clenched around his leather belt. He still had Sydney’s backup “toys.” He could defend himself if necessary. Might as well let this play out.
Please, Sam. Sydney. Please notice I’m missing before it’s too late.
◆◆◆
Sydney wrapped both hands around Sam’s neck, met his liquid-silver eyes, and pushed herself down onto his long, thick cock.
Both of them groaned. This position made him go deep, stretching her inner walls deliciously. Sam’s fingers spasmed against her ass, so she knew he had to be fighting the urge to slam her down on him. But he did as he’d been told, holding her skirt down to protect her vulnerability. Sydney let out a soft, desire-filled moan as her clit finally touched his pelvic bone. Sam shuddered underneath her, and Sydney took a moment to glory in the feel of it.
She captured his lips in a slow, aching kiss and began to use her hips. Oh, god, she would never get enough of the way this felt. The way he felt. His gloriously hard cock stroked every inch of her pussy walls, igniting a fire in her lower belly. She moaned, unable to help herself, and Sam broke the kiss with a desperate gasp. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, letting out a little grunt every time she took his full length inside her. Sydney shivered, and her movements grew more and more frantic. Sam held her close, arms trembling as if he had to fight his instincts to take over.
He could have. He outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, not to mention his height and reach advantage. There was no reason for him to stay beneath her, no reason for him to let her keep control. But he did, because she’d asked him to.
“I love you, Sam,” Sydney whispered against his ear. She couldn’t help it. The words just burst out, with no thought or regret behind them. She loved him. Always had. Always would.
Sam let out a desperate little cry, clinging to her fiercely. He gathered a fistful of her skirt with one hand, yanking the fabric down so hard a few stitches popped. Then he wrapped his other arm around her waist, helping her lift and then grind herself against him. His shuddering little breaths, the trembling in his arms, all spoke of a man on the edge of the abyss, ready to fall any moment.
And then Sam Spencer, a man who was so good at hiding his feelings that he’d been able to disguise his love for his partner for fourteen years, looked up at her with eyes like liquid mercury.
He didn’t say the words. But she still saw the truth.
He loves me.
The orgasm blew over her before she could even think to control it. She clamped down around Sam, throwing her head back with a silent scream as pleasure blasted through her. Sam’s tortured groan egged her higher, until she was grinding herself downward to shove more of him inside her. She closed her eyes, riding wave after wave of endless, delirious pleasure. Her whole body shook with the force of it.
When she finally started to come down, she licked her lips and met Sam’s gaze. His eyes burned with pent-up emotion, his whole body shaking. He started to shift her sideways, as if he intended to put her on her back. Sydney shook her head, clamping one hand around his throat and the other around his wrist. “Not yet. We’re just getting started.”
Several appreciative murmurs echoed through the crowd.
“I’m looking for Sydney.”
The voice came out of nowhere. Sydney didn’t react, didn’t tense, didn’t give any outward sign that she’d even heard the words. She continued gazing into Sam’s eyes, stroking her fingers through his hair.
“Ma’am? Are you Sydney?”
Sydney bit her lower lip and moved her pelvis in slow circles. Sam had gone tense beneath her, but he, too, pretended he didn’t recognize the name. He ran his palm over the laces at the back of her corset, fingertips dancing over the small diamonds of exposed skin. Sydney shuddered and leaned in for a kiss.
A hand touched her arm. “Ma’am—”
Sydney moved like a striking snake. Between one breath and the next, she had the asshole’s hand bent backward over his wrist, his middle finger stretched to the point where the tendons were vibrating. The man cried out, shifting forward and sideways to try and relieve the pressure, but it did no good. He crashed onto the loveseat
beside Sam, most of his body hanging off the edge, and looked up at her with panicked eyes.
“My name is Cindy,” Sydney said, voice as cold as she could make it. “And as you can see, I’m in the middle of fucking my boyfriend.”
The man gulped, eyes flicking wildly between Sam and her. “I-I-I apologize. I-I-I was told to ask for Sydney, but I m-must have heard the name wrong. Please…please don’t hurt me…”
“Who asked?” Sam growled, his voice so rough it could have doubled for sandpaper.
The man’s throat worked again. “M-Marlon.”
“Marlon.” Sydney let those two syllables come out in a flat, disgusted tone. “Tell your boss he has a terrible sense of timing.”
Sydney released the little weasel, shaking the residual tingles or power out of her fingertips with a sigh of disgust. The guy wasn’t darkling, not yet, but Levi had been draining him—she could feel the imprint of Levi’s power all over him. Even that brief touch had been enough to drain some of her own strength. Stupid. Stupid. There were more than enough darklings in this place to weaken her. She needed to be more careful.
“Ma’am?” The man sniveled a little, his knees shaking as he slithered to his feet. “Ma’am, will you please—”
“Fine.” Sydney let out a long-suffering sigh and lifted herself upward. Sam’s cock slid from her body with a wet sucking sound, loud enough to make voyeurs moan.
Sam let out a frustrated growl as he tucked himself away and closed his zipper. He shot a withering glare toward the man who’d interrupted them. “This had better be worth it. If it isn’t, I’m taking it out on you.”
The little man cringed and stepped back. Sydney took her time straightening her skirt, aware that every eye in the room was on her. Sam sat straight and helped her pull the fabric the rest of the way down, then leaned in and pressed a kiss on her mound.