by Nicole Fox
Part of me thought that I should resist, that I should tell him that this was a bad idea. And not only that, but Zane had been a total jerk to me—the asshole wouldn’t even listen to my music! But though my mind protested, my body said something else entirely. And the longer we kissed, the more I realized that this was what I really wanted.
Zane and I made out like a couple of horny teenagers, each of us racing to get the other out of their clothes. His hands moved feverishly over my body, rubbing my breasts through my shirt and bra before he slipped my jacket off over my shoulders.
Zane’s touch was … like nothing else. Just the feeling of his strong hands on my body, the skin rough and calloused from years of his music, made me melt. And when he finally pulled my shirt off over my head and placed his hands on my stomach and hips, I almost swore that there was nothing else at that moment that I wanted more.
“How long have you wanted this?” I asked as I slipped off his white V-neck, exposing his gorgeous, toned upper body, his arms thick and ropey, his chest like two blocks of solid granite.
“Since you walked into my bar,” he said.
We kissed more.
“You could’ve had me that first night,” I said. “I was ready to follow through on that little arrangement I suggested, you know.”
“This way’s better,” he said, kissing me along my neck.
It was; it really was. Sure, if Zane had really taken me up on my offer to trade sex for what I wanted, I wouldn’t have been too upset once I found out that he was the boss. But what we were about to do now was driven by nothing other than overwhelming desire—no business matters to be found.
Zane reached back and snapped off my bra so quickly that it was almost comical. A sly little smile formed on my lips as I wondered just how many bras he’d had to have taken off to have become so skilled at that. A tiny tinge of anxiety formed in me as I wondered if I was possibly just one girl among many, but I reminded myself that we weren’t getting freaking married—this was just sex.
The two of us undid the buttons of our pants, each one of us quickly shimmying out of them at the same time. Now I was in nothing but a skimpy pair of dark blue thong panties, Zane in nothing but coal-black boxer-briefs that fit so tightly on his muscular, toned legs that they almost appeared to be painted on. The bulge of his prick was so massive that I found myself wondering if it might just tear through the fabric at any moment.
I decided to prevent any such “disasters” by grabbing the waistband of his underwear and yanking it quickly down his legs. His prick sprang out, and my eyes went wide as I laid eyes on what he was working with. It was … huge, to say the least. Thick and hard and long, it was easily the biggest cock that I’d seen in person—hell, maybe ever. I almost didn’t even know what I was expected to do with something that big.
Zane didn’t leave me much time for wondering such things. He brought his head down low to my chest, took my left breast into his hand and wrapped his mouth around my nipple. It went hard instantly at the warm wetness of his mouth, and shivers of pleasure ran through my body as he licked and sucked the delicate flesh. I ran my hands through his hair as he did his thing, feeling my pussy get wetter by the second. By the time he moved over to the other breast and repeated what he’d already done, I felt ready to burst out of my skin from just how aroused I was.
“Damn, you taste good,” he said, flicking his gorgeous eyes up to me for a moment.
“And I bet you taste even better,” I moaned.
A sly little smile formed on his lips as he realized just what it was that I had in mind. My hand moved along the valleys of the spaces between his abs, coming to a rest on his solid length. I took his prick into my hand and began stroking slowly, sexy sounds flowing out from Zane’s mouth as I gently worked his prick.
After a little stroking, I was ready. With a slinky movement, I dropped down to my knees in front of him on the couch, his prick now at eye level. My fingers took hold of him by the base, and I glanced up at him with a hungry, sensual look in my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth and brought him into my mouth, wrapping my lips around the curves of his head. Once inside of me, I let his end rest against my tongue for a long moment, letting him savor the feeling.
Then, when I felt ready, I formed a tight seal with my lips and moved down, down, down, taking more and more of him into my mouth. Zane took up so much space in my mouth that I had to be slow and patient. Before too long, I had taken every last bit of him. The sweet tang of cum spread across my palate as his cock dripped with arousal.
I didn’t waste any time in pleasuring him. My mouth moved back to his tip, and once I returned to his head I lashed him with wild licks, not leaving a single bit of him unattended to. I went down again, then back, then down, my eyes locked onto his all the while. Zane folded his hands behind his head, taking on an almost cocky position that, strangely, only turned me on even more.
“Get up here,” he said after a time, placing his hands under my arms and bringing me to my feet.
As I stood in front of him, Zane looked my body up and down like a wild beast sizing up its next meal. He grabbed my panties and pulled them off so quickly that I worried they might tear. Once I was as nude as could be, he clamped his hands onto my hips and, with an impressive display of both strength and grace, moved me onto my back onto the couch. My eyes went wide at how quickly I went from standing to on my back.
Zane moved on top of me, positioning himself between my legs, his cock glistening from the service I’d just provided him. I glanced down, my pussy now soaking wet and ready to be filled. His cock hung heavy between my legs, so close to me that just the sight of it drove me wild. Before I could go too crazy, however, he gave me just what I wanted. Zane took hold of his prick and placed his head just at the opening of my sex. Then with a slow driving of his hips, he entered me bit by bit.
“Ahhh, fuck,” I moaned, the pleasure so intense that I felt as though I might melt where I lay.
“That feel good?” he asked once he was buried to the hilt into me.
“So goddamn good,” I said. “Your cock is like heaven.”
That appeared to be just what he wanted to hear. Zane held fast for a moment, my pussy totally filled by him. Then he pulled his hips back and penetrated me again, the second time even more amazing than the first.
Soon he was pounding me with a wild, almost pneumatic speed. His cock split me in half over and over again, and all I could do was wrap my legs around him and hold on tight. The stirrings of an orgasm that had begun the instant he’d entered me were now irresistible, and I knew that at any moment I was going to cum harder than I’d ever cum in my life.
My eyes were locked onto the tensing and flexing of Zane’s muscles when the orgasm exploded through my body. I shrieked and moaned and thrashed from the pleasure. And Zane apparently wasn’t able to hold it back for any longer either. With a grunt and a series of hard thrusts, Zane came, draining his cock deep inside of me. For several long moments, our orgasms were perfectly in sync, and our bodies were like one.
Then the orgasms faded, and Zane collapsed on top of me, totally exhausted. I placed my hands on his back, feeling his sweat-slick chest rise and fall with each full breath. Once the act was over, the stresses of the day finally caught up with me, and my eyelids took on the weight of solid lead. I closed my eyes and was soon off into a deep sleep.
***
I woke up the next morning to the soft sunlight pouring in through the windows over the couch. Rested and refreshed, I stretched my limbs and placed my hand onto the side of the couch where Zane had been sleeping. But he wasn’t there.
I cleared the sleep away from my eyes and noticed something else—the smell of breakfast cooking. The sizzle and scent of sausage filled the air along with the smell of toasted bread. I sat up, wrapping a blanket around my body. Sure enough, Zane was at the kitchen counter, his back to me as he prepared food.
“Morning,” I said, my voice still a little sleepy and dr
eamy.
“Morning,” he returned, his tone a little gruff.
“What you got going on there?”
“Breakfast,” he said. “But we gotta eat fast—I got shit I need to do.”
I scrunched up my face, a little put off by how rushed he seemed, how impatient. A pair of bagels popped out of the nearby toaster and he snatched them up without looking. After a little more attention to what he had on the stove, he brought the ingredients over to the kitchen island and went to work. Moments later, he had a pair of egg-and-sausage bagel sandwiches ready to go.
“I got some coffee, too,” he said. “You can just grab one of the thermoses over there—no time to let it cool and all that.”
He set one of the bagel sandwiches onto a plate and pushed it towards me. I took the thing into my hands, the bread warm in my hands as I took a bite. It was delicious—toasty and hot and perfectly seasoned.
“Damn,” I said. “This is better than anything from the bodegas.”
“I eat and run a lot,” he said. “And that’s one of the recipes I’ve gotten down pat.”
Zane grabbed his sandwich, not bothering with a plate. He took a huge bite out of it, half of the sandwich disappearing into his mouth.
I looked down for a moment, more practical matters suddenly on my mind.
“So …” I said, my voice trailing off. “Um, so I don’t have a job anymore.”
“I bet you don’t,” he said. “Pretty sure Buck’s not gonna keep you on the payroll after that shit that went down last night.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said, feeling a little nervous at what I was going to ask next. “But … what do you say about letting me pick up a few shifts at Amped?”
“Not a chance.”
His response came so quickly and suddenly that it was a total shock.
“Are … are you serious?” I asked. “Why not?”
He pointed to the couch.
“Because of the shit that we did last night,” he said. “No way am I gonna employ someone that I’m sleeping with. Known too many guys who’ve gotten burned by dipping their wick in the company ink. And I like to keep business and pleasure separate.”
I couldn’t help but notice that he’d said “sleeping with” rather than “slept with.” Was this going to be an ongoing thing? The idea didn’t sound all that bad to me.
But the job.
“I get that,” I said, “but I’m unemployed again. If I don’t find something soon, I’m gonna be totally screwed.”
“Then you’d better get out there and start passing out that résumé of yours. I suggest that you print out a few copies that aren’t coffee-stained.”
I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Hopelessness took hold of me, and Zane must’ve picked up on just how shitty I felt at that moment.
“Okay, okay,” he said. “Here’s the deal.”
My eyes shot up as I felt a little tinge of hope at those words.
“You can’t work for me behind the bar, but you can have a night on stage.”
I wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.
“The band I’ve been having as my Monday night regular just broke up—too many egos for one rock outfit to handle. Monday night’s not the best night there is, but it’s something.”
“But … there’s no way a band like mine will be able to make a living out of one night.”
Zane opened his mouth and popped the last bit of his bagel sandwich into it. He chewed thoughtfully for a while before swallowing and speaking again.
“Well, I meant what I said—I don’t employ girls that I’m fucking. I can’t give you a job, but I can give you this. Take it or leave it, if you want—it’s all the same to me. But it’s the best you’re gonna get from me.”
I slumped in my seat, feeling totally defeated. We were both right—me in that there was no way I was going to be able to make a living from this, and him in that I didn’t really have any other options. I wondered for a brief moment if this meant that he’d actually listened to my music, or if he was just throwing this bone to me as a pity gesture.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
“Perfect,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Tell your band to get good and tight—I don’t like having amateurs on my stage.”
He pointed to my bagel sandwich. I’d only take a bite of it.
“You want me to wrap that up? Because we gotta get going.”
“I’m good,” I said.
“Suit yourself.” He snatched it from my plate and took a bite. “Let’s hit it.”
Chapter 17
Zane
I pulled my bike up to the lot in front of Battery Park. Rex, Motor, and a handful of other guys were waiting for me, just like I’d asked. Their bikes were parked here and there, all of them shiny and chrome.
“There he is,” said Motor. “Wondering when you were gonna show up.”
“Had some shit to sort out before I left,” I said.
A few of the boys exchanged knowing looks. It probably wasn’t too hard to figure out that I was with a girl, but they didn’t need to know that it was Roxy.
I looked the men over. They appeared ready.
“So,” said Rex. “What’s the plan?”
“You know the plan,” I said. “We head over to Boozehounds and give Buck a few words.”
“That motherfucker really rough up that Roxy chick?” asked Motor.
I nodded.
“And no fucking idea what he would’ve done if I hadn’t shown up,” I said, anger boiling in me at just the thought of it.
“How much of a working-over are we talking about here?” asked Chase, one of the other guys. “Like, a couple of nice shiners? Or do we want this prick to spend the next few weeks in traction?”
“Just follow my lead,” I said. “I’m gonna figure out all that shit on the fly. Gonna start with a little talking-to first—as in literally. Maybe the asshole will see some goddamn reason, but I’m not counting on it.”
“That’s why Zane’s the man in charge,” said Motor with a smirk. “So we don’t gotta think about this shit.”
Some of the boys laughed.
“All right, Marauders,” I said, raising my voice. “Let’s form up and move the fuck out!”
The boys let out a cheer and climbed onto their bikes.
We tore through Lower Manhattan, the boys and I forming up into a tight formation as we made our way to the Lower East Side. After a few minutes of driving, we all pulled into the same lot where the shit had gone down last night. Buck’s bike was still there, which meant he was in the bar.
The gang found spots and hopped off their bikes. I held up my hand to make it clear that I wanted them to not make a single move without my say-so. Once I was ready, I stepped up to the back entrance to Boozehounds and gave the door a solid, heavy knock.
At first, no one answered.
“Shithead’s probably sleeping off his hangover,” said Rex.
“We oughta just break in and give him a nice little wake-up,” added Chase.
I shot a hard glare at the men, the signal to shut the fuck up. They obeyed.
I pounded on the door again, and after another no-answer I wondered if breaking in might actually be necessary.
“Hold the fuck on,” came Buck’s voice from inside the place.
Seconds later the door opened, revealing Buck clad in nothing but his combat boots and jeans. His scarred-up torso was covered in tats, and he looked pretty damn worn out. Probably true that he was hung-over.
“Zaney!” he said through a big, overexaggerated smile, his eyes going wide. “Always a pleasure, my man. But shit, did you need to come by so fucking early? You know I’m a man who needs his beauty sleep.”
I wasn’t in the mood for fucking around. Seeing Buck made the events of last night replay in my mind, and I had to use all the restraint I had not to lay the fucker out right then and there.
“We got shit to talk about, Buck,” I said, my voice razor-l
ined. “Step out now.”
Buck’s eyes moved among my men.
“Step out so you and your merry men can put me in the hospital? No fucking thanks.”
“You step out here, or we break in there. Either way, you and I are fucking talking.”
Buck shook his head, realizing he was stuck.
“Fine, fine,” he said.
He reached into some area next to the door and grabbed a military jacket. He threw the thing on, put a stopper at the base of the door to prevent it from locking behind him, and stepped out.