Bastards & Whiskey (Top Shelf Book 1)

by Alta Hensley

  Lifting her free hand, Anita slapped it hard across my face. “You monster! I’m so sick of you.”

  Grabbing her by the wrist, I pulled her to me, our faces a breath apart. “Call me what you will. I am a monster. I’ve never tried to hide that fact.”

  She looked at me, our stares joined, tears of rage filling her eyes. “Fuck you!” she hissed.

  “What did I tell you I would do if you slapped me? And what did I tell you I would do if you said ‘fuck you’ to me again?” I took a deep breath to control my temper, realizing I needed to regain my composure. Even though my blood boiled over, I was a man of my word, and no woman would take that away from me.

  Anita

  I was in trouble. The look in his eyes, the way his voice dripped with venom, oh yes, I had pushed the man too far.

  “I didn’t mean to slap you. I shouldn’t have said what I did,” I tried to offer, wishing I hadn’t let my temper get the best of me. Anything to undo his wrath. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  Even though I said the words, I had the urge to twist his balls, kick him, poke him in the eyeball with a fork, and slap him over and over again. But I wasn’t foolish enough to actually let him know that. I would say sorry and beg for forgiveness just to avoid the wrath that I felt sizzling up to the surface.

  “You will be sorry, and yes, I will make damn sure it never happens again,” he growled. He released his tight hold of my wrist and began unfastening the leather belt around his waist. “Remove your dress.” He paused to look at me straight in the eye. “I advise you to not offer any resistance or your punishment will be far worse.”

  “What?” I asked as I glanced at the glass divider that separated the driver from us. It was see through. All he would have to do is look in his rear review mirror and catch the show of his life. No fucking way. What was this man thinking to even suggest such a thing?

  Kenneth followed my eyes and could see what I was looking at. He leaned forward and pushed a button that made the glass of the divider black out. “He won’t be able to see a thing.”

  “Yeah, well… he’ll be able to hear. You’ve lost your mind if you even think I’d consider doing what you just had the nerve to ask.”

  “Now.”

  Fuck, he meant it. I could see it in his eyes. His jaw tightened and the resolve was washed all over his face. He had proven to me already that when he meant something, he really meant it. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I could beg and plead. I could even try to open the car door, jump out, and take my chances with the pavement. But I was no fool. This punishment was going to happen one way or the other. He had warned me, and I knew enough to know there was no turning back.

  Fine. Let’s get this over with.

  Taking a deep breath, and straightening my shoulders, I lifted the fabric of my dress up over my head, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor without making eye contact. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and yet so very fascinated.

  The swift noise of the leather belt being removed from his waist sent a shiver down my body, my breasts with hardened nipples revealing my erotic cravings. His deep stare as he folded the belt in half and tested its strength against the palm of his hand caused my pussy to quiver. The control this man had on me…

  I was naked all because he told me to strip. I was sitting here about to have him use his belt on me because he demanded it so. What in the world had gotten into me?

  “Turn around and let me see that ass of yours,” he commanded.

  I stoically did so without hesitation. I had truly lost my mind. Why did he have such a power over me? How could I hate the man so much, and yet do what he was asking? Did I want to do this?

  Yes, I did. I fucking did.

  “Good girl,” he praised. “This belting won’t be nearly as bad as it would have been had you resisted me.”

  Did he just say belting? And why did my pussy throb at the word? It was the rattlesnake again. I wanted to be bit. I wanted to feel the pain. I wanted to dance with the poison lurking in the shadows.

  Bending over and bracing my hands against the door, I could feel the cool air of the air-conditioned car dance across my taut flesh. My contorted body sizzled with anticipation of the first sting.

  Bite me rattlesnake.

  Bite me.

  I closed my eyes and prepared for the lash of leather, trying not to focus on the moisture forming along my sensitive folds. I also tried not to focus on the fact that he would be able to see the signs of arousal as my pussy lips peeked between my inner thighs.

  The pressure was building on the base of my spine. I needed this. I wanted the leather against my flesh. God help me… why? Why did I have this need to dance with the viper? Why did I want him to eat me alive?

  Crack.

  It was as if I heard the sound before the searing heat attacked my ass. I whimpered uncontrollably as I ground my teeth together to fight the urge to plead for mercy. But also so I wouldn’t scream for more and for harder.

  Again came another, and another, and another. He rained down the leather to my punished behind over and over, until I could no longer take the pain and howled out in agony. The driver had to have heard me, though the car continued to drive on. I no longer maintained my grace and pleaded between gasps for Kenneth to stop.

  “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have slapped you!”

  Fuck that belt stung.

  I liked it.

  I hated it.

  I loved it.

  I detested it. My head spun as my body drowned in arousal and pain.

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” was his simple reply as he continued on with the spanking.

  “Please, it burns!” As did my core. My core burned for more. I wanted so much more.

  “It should.” The spanking continued. The belt landed expertly on all areas of my exposed flesh. Had he done this before? The way he wielded the leather had my body humming, and he no doubt was a master at his craft. Kenneth Saxon knew what he was doing. No doubt about it.

  My fingers clawed at the door, my back arched. I couldn’t take it anymore and no longer could hold my position. I spun around and sat on the leather, shielding my ass from his discipline, not sure what my weakness would mean in retaliation. In the corner of my eye, I could see that Kenneth placed his belt back through the loops of his pants. I sighed in relief to know my punishment was over, and yet, the rattlesnake lover in me missed the bite already.

  Kenneth grabbed my ankles, pulling me toward him, the friction against my scorched flesh causing me to moan as I fell back, my shoulders braced where my hands had been only moments before. He placed his hand between my thighs and pressed them apart until his fingertips reached my soaking wet pussy. Dipping his finger into my vagina, he purred, “I see that you like the sting of my belt.”

  I shook my head, even though I knew he spoke the truth. The punishment burned on my sensitive behind, but burned even deeper within. I ached for more. I wanted desperately for his finger collecting my juices to be replaced with his cock. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing, so I shook my head again.

  “Oh yes, baby doll. Your body tells a different story.” He pulled his finger from my sex, causing me to fight the urge to moan in hunger for more. He leaned forward and placed his finger covered in my cream to my lips. “Taste for yourself.”

  Without waiting for me to open, he pressed his finger past my lips, forcing me to taste my own arousal. The musky, salty taste surprised me, but not nearly as much as my next act. As if possessed, I sucked his finger into my mouth deeper, twirling my tongue around to lick every last drop of my own essence.

  I could hear his breath hitch as his finger pulled out of my mouth.

  He reached down to my clit and ran his finger around the little nub. In small circles, his finger caressed, dipping down and drenching it with my juices even more. He then took his wet finger, coated thickly, and placed it at my puckered entrance. He didn’t wait for me to process what was happening and began
to push past the tight hole, spreading my essence all around.

  He stopped and gave me an evil smile. “You like this too. You like something in your ass.”

  I shook my head. Again, knowing that I was lying, but I couldn’t admit to my shameful secret.

  He pulled out his finger and then picked up my dress, tossing it onto my lap to cover my bare bottom half.

  I nearly groaned, not wanting to lose his seductive hold over me. But I had finally figured Kenneth Saxon out. He liked having control. All the fucking control. And once again, just like that—he was the bastard, and I was the fool who was caught under his dirty hex.

  I closed my eyes, trying hard to ignore the heat in my stomach, and the wetness of my pussy his closeness caused. There was a time I had considered seducing him into letting me escape. An act that meant nothing but my freedom. But now I wondered if it would merely be an act. I had lost control. More than once. And I could see myself continuing to do so. I lusted—insane yes—but I wanted Kenneth to take me again. I didn’t want to wonder if and when. I wanted it to be a given. A given that every time either of us wanted it, we would have it. I was sick of the cat and mouse. I wanted him to be the tiger, and me the feast. I was so damn hungry for him. He had sucked every ounce of control from my body. He had sucked me dry.

  Kenneth rubbed the top of my thigh, a shudder going through me as I felt his hands lowering to the juncture, but then pulling away quickly. “I shouldn’t want this, Anita. You belong to another. You are owned. That contract meant something. Spiked Roses stands behind what is—”

  “Fuck Spiked Roses,” I snapped, wanting his hand to return, to continue its descent to my waiting pussy.

  “That’s not how this goes. You know it, and I don’t feel I have to keep saying this over and over again. Nothing will change. You signed a contract and Marco owns you for the next two weeks.”

  I looked at him then, my eyes rising to meet his. “I don’t belong to anyone.” I corrected, my words barely more than a strangled whisper. “But for right now, this instant, I will belong to you if you would just stop being so cruel. Stop fighting this. Fighting us.”

  Was I the only one who felt this magnetic compulsion between us? Was the sexual energy and the intense feelings only one sided?

  Kenneth’s lips on mine stopped any further questions I may have had, his hands busily yanking at my dress, making claim on what I willingly offered.

  I was fevered beyond rational thought. With a deep breath, he seemed to calm. He seemed almost gentle as his palm caressed me, silently commanding me with his fingertips to spread my legs and to position myself for his onslaught. He held me open, wide and exposed to his view, and I trembled as his mouth claimed my pussy. The wet heat of his tongue probed my channel. Before Kenneth, I had no concept of desire. And yet, desire was all I felt for this man. Desire mixed with a hunger so intense my entire body quaked beneath his touch.

  Holding me in place, his mouth brought me a pleasure that almost burned. I was approaching the fire, knowing damn well I shouldn’t put my hand in the flame, but I couldn’t resist. Delicately, Kenneth flicked and nudged through my folds, finding the center of my uncontrolled heat and probing deeper inside. Pulling out, he rolled the tip of his tongue across my sensitive nub then trailed a path of moist fire down my slit to my tiny bottom entrance. The tip of his tongue tapped me there, teasingly, doing a small circle along the puckered flesh, then went back on the reverse journey, saturating me, laving me, tasting me, then plunging even deeper into my core again and again. My body quivered, and I cried out as his tongue worked me over—in and out, small circles, large strokes, up and down.

  I knew I was about to come. I had never reached completion in my life except by my own hand before Kenneth. It wasn’t like I had a lot of options living at exit 222, mile marker 51. It seemed unfamiliar to have someone else bring my body to this level of arousal so easily. It was strange, forbidding, the tension so much greater than anything I’d ever achieved. I could feel my body pleading to let go, to go over the edge. I was almost there and prayed he wouldn’t stop again just to teach me, to school me that there was only one person in control of what happened. He was the master, and I was the slave to his touch. To his claim. To whatever the man wanted if it meant him giving me what I wanted—what I needed—what I had always needed but never found before him.

  I threw my head back, giving in. At that moment, my body was under his rule, to decree however he pleased. And it seemed to please him to suck on me again and again, in and out, twisting gently to one side then the other, as though stretching me for something else. Mindless in pleasure, I no longer was a woman with a man I barely knew in the back of a car. I was only there to be pleased. I blocked out everything else but the extreme need for him to thrust his cock deep inside of me. His mouth and tongue were not enough. I needed all of him. I could barely wait for when he would bring the broad tip of his cock to touch my folds and spread me so wide I would once again feel the fangs of the snake.

  But once again, Kenneth stopped. He sat up, once more draping my dress over me, and scooted over to his side of the back seat.

  He’d stopped, but I wasn’t surprised.

  Ignoring what had just happened, he looked out the window into nothing and pretended I wasn’t there.

  Bastard.

  Bastard.

  18

  Kenneth

  “We’re here,” I announced as we pulled up the circular driveway that sat in front of the large plantation house. A house that years ago housed rich men who owned slaves. Funny how nothing really had changed over time.

  “Yeah, we’re here,” Anita mumbled under her breath.

  For a brief moment, I could see she considered escape again. She had glanced down at the door handle, and knew she wondered if she would be able to open the door, hop out of the vehicle and head to the bayou that surrounded the property and hide with the gators. The gators would be safer than Marco Nunez. She would be better off taking her chances with the beasts in the wilderness than the beasts all around her now.

  “It’s not too late. You can cancel the contract right now. Do you want out of this?” I asked, actually feeling concerned. I wanted to help her, but she needed to help herself. She could help herself.

  “You know I do.”

  “Well then, you know what you need to do. Give the money back. Where is it?”

  She shook her head. She was going to stand by her decision. So, if that meant getting pissed on and smacked around a bit, then so be it.

  “You really are infuriating,” I said as I got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her.

  I walked with my hand on Anita’s lower back up the long walkway toward Marco’s mansion. It was going to take all my might not to rip off Marco’s arm from his body if he so much as touched Anita in any violent manner. No sooner had we reached the door than Marco opened it with fury in his eyes.

  “It’s about time,” he began as he scowled at both Anita and me. “Go up to my study, Anita, where we were before and wait for me,” he ordered.

  Anita didn’t hesitate. She didn’t look back. She simply walked away like a lifeless robot. Had I stolen all the life from her?

  “Everyone but Kenneth leave,” he commanded to the entourage of his shitheads who’d entered the house along with me.

  No sooner had the last man walked out the door, than Marco took hold of my collar, bunching the fabric with his clenched fist. His other hand held my arm behind my back painfully. He forced me down the hallway and into the front room.

  “What the fuck happened? You all assured me when I paid for her and signed that contract that everything would go smoothly. How is one of your staff members running off with my goddamn money everything running smoothly? I had your word, Mr. Saxon. I take a man’s word seriously,” Marco said, slamming me into a chair.

  I suppose I could have resisted and tried to put up a fight, though most likely would have ended up being killed by the end of it. Marc
o had men all around, so even if I escaped Marco, other men would be waiting. Where the fuck was Harley Crow now? Fuck me, I should have let him handle this whole mess from the very beginning.

  I held strong against him, showing no signs of weakness or surrender, yet I struggled to maintain my temper. I couldn’t fight him—even though I had a good chance of winning the battle—but I had to also consider Anita in all this. If I pissed Marco off too much, he would just have me and Anita killed and wash his hands of the whole dirty situation.

  “You did have my word, which is why I personally delivered her back to you. I take that contract you had with her and Spiked Roses very seriously. I too believe in a man’s word,” I answered him. “I can understand why you are pissed.” As I said the last word, the vision of Marco pissing on Anita came to mind and I internally scolded my sick sense of humor.

  Marco studied me, no doubt looking for any reason to hurt me. “So the contract is still in place?” Marco asked me. “I can do what I had planned?”

  I nodded, hating myself as I did so. “Unless she wants to terminate it and give you the money back.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Does she?”

  “No,” I said. “She wants to keep the money and plans to earn it as agreed upon.”

  “I want extra days,” he added. “The days she was gone don’t count.”

  “Of course. And because of all the problems, Spiked Roses is prepared to waive your yearly dues. Consider it our apology, and hopefully it will not taint you on future tastings in The Tasting Room.”

  He didn’t say anything, but crossed his arms against his chest and stared at me.

  I cleared my throat. “Miss Kyle got scared off. She is new to this, and although she is wrong and knows it, she really meant no ill will.”

  “I’ve killed people for less than that. She stole from me.”

  I nodded. “I can see how you would feel that way. But I assure you, she did not intend for it to come across as stealing from you.”