Playboy

by Logan Chance

  “Goddammit, Rhiannon,” he spits out. I nearly let go when he slaps my ass. The sting is sharp, and he lands another one when I tug with all my might. “What are you fucking five?”

  “What are you? A Neanderthal?” Another slap lands before tiles blur as he stalks faster, and then I’m forced to let go when he maneuvers and drops me on the granite countertop of his kitchen.

  The air sizzles between us. “What’s wrong? The big bad Mafia boss doesn’t like wedgies?” I taunt.

  I’ll admit, I’ve never been afraid of Xavier until this moment. It’s not fiery anger igniting in his blue eyes, it’s glacial iciness. Anger I can handle, form a defense against. This cold silence, with his chest rising and falling, scares me.

  “Give me your shirt,” he orders.

  “What?”

  “Do it.”

  He removes his suit jacket and tosses it aside. Pick your battles. This isn’t one I’m going to win, so I remove my tank and well, I should really listen to myself. Because, I don’t place it in his outstretched hand, nope, instead I fling it at his gorgeous face. He’s not too happy when he snatches it off his head. Before I can blink an eye, he twists it around my wrists, binding them.

  His eyes drop to my lacy black bra before he steps between my legs, bracing his hands beside me. “You’re going to regret that, Rhi,” he warns, barely above a whisper. “Bad girls get punished.”

  That line coming from his lips, scares me more than what he’s become. It does something to my insides, causes a flutter low in my belly. I shouldn’t like the way it sounded. Before I can think of a plan, he flips me over and bends my upper body against the counter until my cheek rests against the cool surface. Everything happens so fast. So fast I can’t think. A drawer slides open and my pants are yanked down, exposing my ass. Something solid and wooden thwacks my left cheek. Five times. Each harder than the last. My ass is on fire, but I refuse to cry out. He repeats it on the right cheek, then drapes his body against my back. I buck against him. My movements come to a confusing halt when I feel his hard cock press against my bottom.

  He whispers in my ear, “Ten more to go. Not so funny now is it?”

  As much as I dislike him right now, my body reacts to his hand massaging my cheek. His touch is sensual, caressing the tender skin until the burn subsides.

  “Maybe I like it,” I pant out, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of thinking he’s winning. But, god help me, he is. I’m wet. The more his large hand strokes, fondles, and squeezes, the wetter I get. These are the fantasies I used to have of Xavier. Fantasies I’ve fought hard to put behind me. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t take the pain to experience the pleasure of what he’s doing right now.

  The weight of his body leaves me, and I grit my teeth through ten more punishing spanks on the opposite cheek.

  “Are you done?” I ask, biting back a moan as his fingers erase the pain.

  “You have a really nice ass,” he murmurs. “I don’t remember it being this nice when you walked away and left me six years ago.”

  Why did he have to say that? Memories of an uncorrupted Xavier flood my mind. And then the worst thought enters my brain: what if I can save him from this?

  He flips me over and lifts me onto the countertop, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “I’m not done with your punishment yet. Although, this may not be quite a punishment.”

  “What do you mean?” My brain formulates another plan, don’t fight and maybe I can run.

  He slides my pants off and licks his lips. “What do you do in a kitchen?” he asks.

  “Cook?” I answer like a nitwit.

  He shakes his head and runs his hands up my thighs, creating a frenzy of chills to race along my skin. My breath catches when his thumb strokes along my pussy. “You eat.”

  4. Xavier

  Her eyes widen, and my heart races. To say I haven’t thought about getting down and dirty with Rhiannon before would be a lie. I’ve thought about it a lot.

  “Xavier, don’t touch me,” she wisps out.

  “Come on, Rhi. Just let go.” I continue gliding my thumb along her pussy.

  Her breathing speeds up, and her eyes flutter closed. She’s enjoying this. “Please,” she says on a whisper.

  “Please what? Beg me for it.” I move a little closer and suck along the soft skin above her collarbone.

  “I’ll never beg.”

  Her defiance turns me on. But, this isn’t why I kidnapped her. I didn’t abduct her in the middle of the night so I could have my way with her. As bad as I want her, she’ll have to beg me for it.

  I know she used to think about me. Long ago, I’d sneak into her house and watch her take matters into her own hands late at night in her room.

  The door was always cracked, and I used to wonder if she left it open for me. I wasn’t brave enough to ever enter her room and finish the job she would start.

  But, I’d watch her. Watch her fingers slip under the waistband of her panties. Watch her eyes close, her mouth open. I would listen to the sounds she would make.

  All while imagining it was me bringing her to her pleasure.

  One night, I watched her. I can’t remember how long I sat outside her door, praying for the courage to go inside and claim her. Then, the moment she came she moaned my name. I made it a vow to ask her about it the next day, but she was gone.

  That was the last time I ever saw her, until now.

  Now, she’s all grown up. She’s a sexy, feisty woman, and I am once again no longer in control. Well, I need to get the control back. Let her know that she isn’t the one I’ve been pining after all these years. That I’ve moved on. And I can fuck her and leave her. And she means nothing to me.

  I run my hand down her neck, to the column of her throat, and down the side of her chest, grazing my thumb along her breast.

  “I want to make you feel so good, Rhi,” I say.

  She doesn’t move as her eyes gaze into mine. My cock throbs, and I’m half-tempted to walk away and finish off the job in the shower.

  “What do you want to do to me?” she asks so innocently.

  I’m leery for a moment. Is this another ploy to attempt another escape?

  I trace my fingers along her ankles, up to the back of her knees, and then, into the inside of her thighs. She doesn’t move a muscle, just watches.

  Her black, lace panties is the icing on the cake for my cock. He’s hard and ready to pound his way deep inside her.

  I run my thumb over the panel of her soaked panties and offer her a smile. “Are you wet for me?”

  She nods, biting her lower lip, and it drives me insane.

  She asks again, “What do you want to do to me?”

  I slip my finger past her panties and plunge it deep inside her. So fucking wet. “Everything, Rhiannon. I want to do everything you imagined me doing back then.”

  Her eyes glisten with understanding, and she grinds against my hand. “Xavier…” her voice trails off.

  “Give me it. Give me everything tonight. In the morning if you still want it, I’ll set you free.”

  Her eyes bore into mine as I continue to work her pussy. “Ok.”

  She gives me her blessing, and I am already pulling her panties down her legs. I toss the thin, black lace over my shoulder and smile in appreciation.

  In one quick motion, I have her legs spread. Her eyes are wild with lust before she closes them.

  “Open your eyes, Rhiannon,” I demand.

  I open the freezer next to me and dish out one small ice cube.

  Her leg flinches when I bring the cube to touch her inner thigh. “That’s cold.”

  “Do you like this?” My fingers trace the cube closer to her hot heat.

  She arches her back. “Yeah,” she breathes.

  I follow the ice’s path up her leg with my tongue, drinking the wetness from her soft skin. I’d imagined this scenario in my head a million times in the past. I never thought I’d ever be this lucky.

  And
I don’t give a fuck what she says, there’s no way I’m letting her leave me in the morning.

  I run the ice cube along her seam and circle her clit.

  She moans, loud, and her eyes slam shut. “Xavier, please,” she begs. Ah, there it is.

  I crush my mouth over her pussy, warming her skin with my hungry mouth. The ice cube clinks against the steel of the sink when I toss it and continue sucking her.

  I enter a finger into her again, she’s so tight, and toy with her clit, sucking it between my teeth.

  Her hands fly into my hair, digging into my scalp. She moans and yelps and it urges me on. I suck, nibble, and lick my way to her satisfaction.

  She grinds her body against my face, her pussy wanting more. And I give it to her. I read her body like it’s the best book in the world, keeping me engaged with each page. I edge her close to her orgasm, and then pull back a bit to let the desire build.

  I grip her thighs, spreading her legs a bit, and continue eating her in my kitchen as if this whole fucked up situation doesn’t exist.

  She wants this though. Who knew Rhiannon would have such a little wild streak?

  I’m so fucking hard. So turned on. And all I can think about is sinking into her heat.

  I pull back, pushing my fingers in deeper.

  “Xavier…” she pants, her voice trailing off.

  “Do you want me?” I ask.

  Her big brown eyes search mine, the answer hidden deep within. “Yes.”

  I dig even deeper inside her, and she crumbles around me. I kiss her. I kiss her hard and rough. There’s nothing I want more right now.

  Her mouth opens, her orgasm spiraling throughout her body. She shakes as I suck her tongue into my mouth.

  “You feel so good.”

  The aftershock of her orgasm slams through her. Tiny tremors clench my fingers. When her body calms, I free her hands and she pushes me away. Regret settles in her eyes, and she scoots off the counter.

  “I want to go home.”

  Fuck. There’s no way I can let her. Maybe she is ok with the fact her father sold her to be married to the next in line in the DeLuca family mob.

  I’m not.

  And I’ll be damned if Rhiannon thinks for one second I would ever let her leave to fulfill that duty.

  There’s no way. Now that I’ve had my taste, I’ll never want anyone else but her.

  “I said in the morning. I’m not done with you yet.”

  “Xavier, you can’t keep me here. My father will kill you,” she answers.

  “You think I care about what he does to me?” And I don’t care. Let him try.

  Let him send his little army. They’re no match for me.

  “You should.” She purses her lips, finds her clothes, and gets dressed.

  “Are you worried about me?” I ask, crossing my arms as I watch her.

  “I don’t want to see anyone get hurt.” She tugs on her shirt. “I care about you.”

  “Really?” A feeling I’ve never experienced before spreads through my chest.

  “Yes, stupid. I’ve known you my whole life. We were friends once.” She stands with her hand on her hip, eyes on fire.

  “We still are,” I say, lifting her over my shoulder and once again carrying her caveman style. This time, to my bedroom.

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  The Boss Duet Box Set

  Logan Chance has just recently released LIKE A BOSS and LOVE A BOSS into a box set, complete with over 50,000 words of Bonus Material.

  Read on for a few chapters of Like A Boss

  1. Theo

  “Fuck, I need to get laid.”

  If I didn’t find a woman in this bar to fuck tonight, I’d lose my mind. I was overworked and stressed beyond belief. I had no time to focus on the finer things in life. I almost forgot what the inside of a pussy felt like. Lately, I felt this champion cock I owned between my legs was just for show.

  Two words:

  Fuck.

  That.

  Nectar was packed when I stepped inside; pink and purple neon lights blinded my eyes as they swept the room. Women in leopard-print leotards hung from giant swings as the loud bass shook the floor beneath my feet. I found Xavier, my friend, at the bar with a shot of Macallan in his hand. He passed it to me as I nodded.

  With my drink in hand, I ‘surveyed the land’ as it were. A curvy brunette, wearing painted on jeans with red heels, smiled at me. She took a small sip of her Cosmo and the lipstick stain left behind on the glass matched her sexy shoes. She was pretty. She was absolutely fuckable. Let’s be honest, most men aren’t even that damn picky, but tonight I craved above average. It’s why I picked Nectar—the hottest place to be on a Friday night—but while sexy, curvaceous asses and pumped up plastic tits painted the room like a surgeon’s personal advertisement billboard, I wanted something closer to the liquor in my hand. I wanted a girl fresh out the damn bottle, warm in my mouth, burning on the way down, and fucking me up until I couldn’t see straight. I wanted the good shit.

  A raven-haired beauty, in a skimpy dress leaving nothing to the imagination, and fuck me stilettos, locked eyes with me. The hot pink-stained cheeky smile she flashed my way did nothing for me…total stage five clinger potential. Pass.

  I nodded, and continued studying the club.

  My eyes drifted to a group of girls celebrating across the bar—a bachelorette party. Penis straws in their mouths, pink boas around their necks, and falling off the barstools drunk. Double Pass.

  “It’s getting late. I might head out,” Xavier, said, glancing at his gold Rolex. He grabbed his Corona by the neck and took a long pull.

  “It’s South Beach, this city doesn’t come alive until well after midnight.”

  “There’s not much action here tonight. But, you stay, relax, you deserve it.” His eyes drifted to the crowded dance floor. “The sale is a shoo-in; you’ll be the proud owner of the Bearded Goat within a few months.”

  “Thanks, man. Yeah, it’s been stressful as fuck these past few days.” I lifted my glass and took a sip, letting the liquor ease the tension in my shoulders.

  He laughed, chugging his beer, and spun in his seat to slam the empty bottle on the bar.

  “I think I got the brunt of your stress.” Xavier, also my lawyer, had been busy working his ass off for me. He scoured over paperwork and legal documents making sure I got the best deal possible.

  “Fuck you, buddy. It’s my ass on the line here. First thing I’m doing with the bar is changing the fucking name.” I threw some cash to the bartender and returned my attention back to him. “Bearded Goat, really? Why not call it the lamest bar in Miami?”

  “Think about it, one day you can have a place just like this.” He lifted his arms, pointing to the bright lights of Nectar that showcased the energy of the nightclub.

  I grinned, turning to rest my elbows against the bar. “I’m sure my place will be a hell of a lot better.” My eyes traveled around as I scoped the joint once more. Yeah, my club would be much nicer. I could see it all now. I would soon own South Beach. How hard could running a bar be? I’d never failed at anything I’d gone after before, and this time wouldn’t be any fucking different.

  “On second thought,” Xavier said, eyes trained on the party of pink madness a few yards away,

  “I’m going to join the action over there.”

  I nodded, and watched him stalk over to make his play on one of the bachelorettes from the party. She offered him a drink from her penis straw and laughed when he grabbed it and directed it back to her mouth, shaking his head. I grinned—what an idiot.

  “Hi…what’s your name?” a drunk plastic blonde asked, as she slid onto the stool next to me, arms hanging around my neck. Her platinum hair hung straight and fell past her tits. She leaned in closer, giving me a glimpse straight down her plum-colored, v-neck dress to her manufactured cleavage.

  “Theo.” I threw back my whiskey, and signaled the bartender for another b
efore turning to face her.

  Her ass left the seat and she stepped between my long legs, her fingers running up the length of my red tie. “I’m Ashley.” Her breathy words fanned across my lips as she lifted her hand to run it through my beard. “I’ve never seen you around. Do you come here a lot?” she asked, her voice thick as honey, seduction dripping off her tongue.

  My brown eyes focused on the gigantic rock on her finger before removing her hand from my face. “No.” I’d been coming here for the past week, to check out the competition for my newest acquisition, but tonight I needed release and this girl wasn’t the one.

  I stood, giving her a tight smile, before making my way to the other end of the neon lit bar.

  I squeezed my tall frame to an empty stool and signaled the bartender. “Whiskey,” I called out to her.

  She glanced my way, locking eyes with mine. A brief nod and a slight smile was all she gave me before she turned and slammed a few bottles back in the well. The sexy bartender finally slid her ass over and my eyes narrowed on her as she poured the whiskey in a glass. Her shimmery hair clearly wasn’t hers. The wig on her head matched her silver bikini top, which barely contained her full breasts. The skinny strings strained, as if at any moment they would snap, letting her tits fall free. A silver short skirt hugged the curve of her ass as she turned to pour a few shots for the bride-to-be.

  The few times I’d been here, I’d never seen this girl. I’d remember a face like hers, even in the dark. My eyes scanned her flawless features. She wasn’t hard and overworked like some of these girls. She hadn’t allowed a scalpel to redraw the map of who she was designed to be. And she sure as shit wasn’t shy about showing it off. My dick stiffened. That hunger to claim and guzzle down the good shit surged. And I’m not talking about fucking whiskey, either. I wanted her.

  Nights like these were sort of like the Sabbath to me, a holy day to worship my most favorite idol, a woman’s sweet body. This woman with silver hair and spilling breasts was in need of worship and I had every intention of fucking her like the goddess she was. I’d spend many nights doing just that, but… first, I had to get her attention.