Pagan (The Henchmen MC Book 8)

by Jessica Gadziala

  My thigh muscles were screaming from the strain as I slammed forward into him, burying my face in his neck. "I can't... I can't..." I managed on a gasp.

  To which, he didn't even hesitate.

  A strong arm crushed across my hips, holding me completely still, and he started thrusting up into me- harder, faster, more controlled than I had been riding him, making me turn my face so my mouth was against his skin, muffling it when the sensations became to intense, and I screamed out his name as the orgasm ripped through me, so acute that it was almost painful.

  "Fucking Christ, squeeze my cock," he growled as he thrust through my orgasm before yanking my hips down hard, and slamming so deep that there was a pinch as he came. With my name on his lips.

  I wasn't sure how long I lay there, just a boneless mass of weight atop him, my body too overwhelmed even to consider moving.

  But I was aware that my body had cooled and my breathing had slowed and my heart was a normal beat again when I turned my head out of his neck to his chest.

  It was right then, too, that I saw the alarm clock there for the first time.

  "Oh my God!" I shrieked, shooting upward, too frantic to even think of coving my nakedness like I might usually do. Tangled in his limbs, I actually stumbled onto my own feet on the side of the bed, raking a hand through my hair and looking around, realizing too late that my dress was where I left it- on the deck. "Oh my God..."

  "Pet, what the fuck is the matter with you?" he asked, sounding lazy.

  When I looked over at him, my eyes bugging out as he lazily sat up and moved to put his feet on the floor, watching me like I was the crazy one. Meanwhile, it was ten in the morning. Ten!

  "I'm two hours late for work!" I announced, going over to his dresser, not caring about maybe him not wanting me to rifle through his things because I needed something to put on. I snatched the first tee I found and yanked it down over me, glad when the hem fell long enough to cover my ass.

  "I'm sure Benny can hold down the fort," he said, still moving around slowly, like he had all the time in the world.

  He did.

  I didn't.

  It was ten o'clock in the morning and both Benny and I had clients at the same time that morning. They would show up thinking they were double booked. And that shit did not look good to customers. They would be pissed. They would tell all their friends about the shoddily run hair salon they went to and how they should avoid it at all costs.

  All for what? So I could get a couple orgasms? Insane, earth-shattering orgasms. But still. Sex was something fun; work was a priority.

  "Kennedy, calm the fuck down," Pagan demanded, finding jeans, and yanking them on casually.

  "Calm the fuck down? I'm two hours late for work, and it's a fifteen-minute drive back, and I have sex hair, and a walk of shame dress and shoes to show up in."

  He watched my for a long minute as I rushed into the bathroom, desperately flattened my hair and finding his mouthwash to use, before he turned and walked away.

  I knew I was being a little shrill, but I felt justified in this particular instance.

  I was a wreck. I had beard burn... everywhere. My hair was a hopeless case, but I could yank that up as soon as I got to work. My makeup was all raccoon'd up. And I had only a tight blue dress and this white tee I stole from Pagan to wear.

  I was just coming out of the bathroom when I heard Pagan coming up the stairs. He came in with my dress in his hand. The dress also wasn't wrinkled as though he had gotten it off the deck and laid it out for me the night before.

  "Thank you," I said, grabbing it, and yanking off the tee to slide inside. Then I yanked the tee back on, knotting it to the side of my hip, deciding it was sort of a look, albeit a rather obvious one.

  Pagan watched me with interest through this all, but I was too frantic to feel insecure.

  "Should I call someone, or can you..." I started.

  To that, I practically got an eye roll. "I can drop you at work, Kennedy," he said, like it was stupid to think he might not as he reached for a tee and pulled it on. "Come on, your shoes and purse and shit are in the kitchen."

  With that, I got my shoes and purse and shit and Pagan took me into the garage, showing me that along with the bike, he also had a couple very busted-up looking ATVs, dirt bikes, and a very nice sports car.

  He was living the life.

  And I was scraping by and losing money by being with him.

  Ugh.

  I was being pathetic.

  I climbed in and he brought me to work.

  There was no goodbye kiss or, well, even a goodbye.

  He pulled up about one storefront down and waved a hand toward my shop that wasn't, you know, on fire or anything without me.

  "Right. Um... thanks..." I said, uncomfortable with the silence, reaching for the handle, and jumping out.

  "Well la de da. Look who it is. How's that shame walk working for you?" Benny asked, giving me a wicked smile as I walked in, finding the shop empty, and about having a heart attack.

  "Benny where..."

  He waved a hand at me, shaking his head. "Girl, I told you I could handle the shop if you need to get your lady bits attended to."

  "But... but you were double booked."

  "Kenny, have we met? I can entertain an entire fucking shop of women without any of them getting pissed about the wait. Got the blowout done, then did the cut and color. Took some selfies. And since then, one of them, the one who had to wait, already left us a glowing review. Stop stressing out so much."

  It was like all my air came back to me at once, making me almost painfully aware that I had killed a really good mood back at Pagan's place for, as it turned out, no reason.

  "Look at you; you're all kinds of out of it. I think your tits are half out of that bra. And that hair. Oh, I just knew he was every bit as good in the sack as he seemed. Was his cock huge?"

  I looked down at my shirt, realizing he was right; there was definite boob spillage. Then, because we were close like that and no one else was around, I reached down my top and rearranged things into order, then walked over to a station to sit down and get to work on fixing my hair and makeup.

  "Yes," I answered when he walked up behind the chair, brow raised, not willing to let me keep the memory to myself.

  "I knew it. He talks like a man who has a giant meat popsicle."

  I snorted at that, my smile breaking out so wide it hurt my cheeks. Meat popsicle. Leave it to Benny.

  Also, right about then, I remembered that I had sucked on that 'meat popsicle' and felt a blush creep up my cheeks.

  "Come on, details."

  I knew he wanted something juicy, but I wasn't the best at details like that. So I gave him what I could. "We went back to his place and skinny dipped in the hot tub and then he took me upstairs and we... you know..."

  "Fucked."

  "Right, yeah. Then we, ah, watched a Die Hard movie and went to sleep."

  During that part, his smile fell away, and his brows drew downward. "You... watched Die Hard and went to sleep?"

  Almost a little offended that he thought that was weird, even though I totally knew it was absolutely weird, I shrugged. "And then I woke up to him spooning me while holding my boob, dead asleep, with a raging hard on. And things... progressed."

  "Oh, I bet they did. No wonder you look so freshly fucked. It was cock to car in a matter of minutes."

  He wasn't wrong, so I didn't correct him.

  "So when are you seeing him again?"

  That was the question, wasn't it?

  I had no idea.

  And that, well, there was an unmistakable stabbing of disappointment when I realized it.

  "We're casual, Benny," I said, shrugging, trying to keep it light even though my shoulders suddenly felt a bit more slump-y than usual.

  "So when the mood strikes."

  "Exactly," I agreed with a smile.

  Apparently, the mood didn't strike that night.

  Or the next.


  Or the next.

  And by Friday, I had pretty much started to, begrudgingly, accept that he had just fed me the fuck buddy line and talked about exclusivity to get me into bed, likely picking up on how it wasn't going to happen otherwise.

  The smooth-talking, agreement-breaking, selfish asshole.

  To say I was a bit, well, pissy, at work would be an understatement. In fact, I was apparently so unpleasant that Benny, good, sweet, everything-rolls-off-my-back Benny actually cut out early to avoid me as I closed up and headed into the bathroom at work to get into the stupid black dress with a slit and heels that pinched my toes, and did all my makeup and pulled up my hair and called a cab.

  It was really not a good night to have to deal with Ethan.

  Two assholes yanking my chain in one week.

  I knew that was precisely what this dinner would entail- lots of platitudes and half-promises, and touches that weren't appropriate, but not completely inappropriate either, so I couldn't really call him out on it because he could just say he was being friendly. It wasn't like he grabbed my ass or brushed a hand over my boobs or anything. He touched my hip to guide me to the table, hand just a tad too low. He pulled out my chair and his finger brushed down my arm. When my hand rested on the table, he rested his on top of it.

  And, normally, this was just Ethan. It was just how it always was at a meeting with us.

  But me, well, I was in full-on bitch-mode inside and everything he did grated against my already frayed nerves.

  "I know you're disappointed, Kenny," he said, voice smooth. Ethan was nothing if he wasn't a slick bastard. Emphasis on bastard. Or maybe that was just my bruised pride talking. It was hard to tell anymore.

  All I knew was it took every ounce of self-control to not snap at him as he handed the check off to the waitress and moved to stand, carefully buttoning his jacket, and moving toward me to pull out my chair. Which meant I would have to brush his body in the small space as I stood.

  "It's fine, Ethan. I expected it." My tone was chilly, but not altogether snippy.

  "You're just..." he started, hand going to my hip to guide me like I somehow forgot how to get to the front door of Famiglia all of a sudden.

  "A risk," I finished for him, my spine turning to steel, and my chin rising a little. I was getting really, really sick of hearing that.

  "I knew you would understand," he said, giving me what was a genuinely apologetic smile as we stepped into the somewhat damp night air, the wind blowing in from the shore, something that never used to, but now always made me think of freaking Pagan. The asshole.

  I felt some of the anger drain away because, despite my vested interest in expanding, I truly did understand. "It's not a big deal," I offered. Just my dream. Just my future. Just my life.

  "Come on," he said, still doing the sad-eye thing that, somehow, made the sadness replace the anger inside me as well, "let me drive you back home. No reason to call a cab now."

  "Actually," I said as he led me down the stairs and, for once, I was happy that he had a hand on me because they were a little slick from the wet air, and my heels were of the icepick variety, "you can just bring me to the shop. I forgot to check the schedule for tomorrow. I don't want to be late," I lied, a little too easily for my own comfort.

  "You work too much," he said as he helped me into his very nice car and closed the door.

  He thought I worked too much, but he wouldn't give me the out I desperately needed so I wouldn't have to keep working so hard. I wondered if he even saw it that way.

  Business is business, I reminded myself silently as his hand went behind my headrest and his body curled toward me to look out the back window as he reversed.

  I hated that phrase the first time I heard it. I felt it sanitized something that was anything but clean. It gave the higher-ups on the totem poles, the ones with the power, the chance to justify treating everyone beneath them worse- slashing benefits, cutting hours so they didn't have to offer them in the first place, offering slave wages while their pockets got fatter.

  It was something I always rebelled against.

  That was why Benny got paid better than I did.

  That's why Benny had a health plan that included dental and I only had hospital coverage that I could use in an emergency.

  I never wanted to accept that mindset.

  That being said, people like Ethan had likely been spoon-fed it from the cradle thanks to generations deep of successful businessmen.

  In a weird way, it wasn't even his fault.

  "Ethan, you really don't need to walk me to the door," I said, as he jumped out, and rushed around the car to open my door for me.

  "You've seen the crime rate in this town," he said, shrugging, tucking his hands into his pockets as I unlocked the door.

  I moved inside and, to my surprise, he did as well, making a strange chill move through me, almost irrationally fearful of a man I had shared nothing but friendly interactions with for over a year.

  I chalked it up to a shitty week on top of nothing but other shitty weeks over the past many months and turned to look at the date book to keep up appearances, not sure what the hell I would do after I checked since I didn't want him taking me home.

  I turned my back on him.

  And there was no way I could have known what a mistake that was.

  That was until it was too late and his body slammed into mine, crushing my front against the high surface of my desk. It was hard enough to knock my air out of me as my stomach crashed into the unyielding surface, a strange whimper escaping at the ache in my ribs that suggested some sort of injury.

  But I couldn't think about that.

  I couldn't think about that because I knew that things had just gone from bad to worse in my life. That cesspool I fell into? Apparently, it had sharks. And this one was going to hurt me. I knew it like I knew the sun was going to rise the next morning.

  And I couldn't let it happen.

  I was smaller.

  I was absolutely weaker.

  I was beaten down from a year of nothing but absolute crap flung at me.

  But I was not, was absolutely not going to be assaulted in the place I had worked so hard to have, the place I had been holding onto so hard it was a miracle I didn't leave bloodstained claw marks.

  That was not going to be my reality.

  No freaking way in hell.

  His hand reached around me, grabbing my breast so hard there was a white hot poker sensation as he took my nipple and twisted.

  "I knew this was heading in this direction," he said in my ear, ramming his hard cock into my butt cheek as his head dipped, and he bit into my neck. It wasn't a love bite. It was a bite that would bruise and not in the good way. In the way that I would see it in the mirror for days after and have a vivid, gut-sinking memory of the moment he gave it to me.

  I tried to twist, to move, to get facing forward where I could use my hands, nails, feet, knees, anything, freaking anything to get him off of me and get out onto the street.

  But the whole of his body weight was against my back and no amount of struggling could get it to move.

  "Yeah, you like it like that. I knew you were a dirty little slut the first day you walked into my office in that dress."

  My belly pitched as his hand moved up, trying to free my breast. The sound of my strap of my dress ripping was muffled by the thudding of my heartbeat in my ears.

  "No, Ethan," I said, voice quivering, but firm. No. "Stop. Stop it," I shrieked as his hand slipped inside the cup of my bra.

  "Perfect fucking tits," he growled, pulling back slightly to shift so his cock pressed between my thighs.

  But it gave me just enough leverage to turn, to whip an arm out, to crack it into the side of his neck, sending him staggering back a foot.

  "You like to play rough, huh, Kenny, baby?" he asked, smile going wicked.

  I turned.

  The door was all of three feet away.

  I could make it and scream.


  But I turned too fast, my icepick heel twisting, my legs buckling, and I was going down.

  I landed with a cry, the pain in my knees ricocheting up my legs as I tried to crawl away, desperately kicking out of my shoes.

  Just one more foot.

  So, so close to possible rescue.

  But he was fast, determined.

  A hand grabbed my shoulder, pushing, maybe not knowing his own strength, or maybe just not caring, sending me face-first into the floor too fast for me to try to catch myself.

  A blinding pain exploded across my cheek as the bone hit the floor, making my vision go in and out for a moment as I felt him move in behind me.

  Behind me.

  And I knew what would follow. A zip, a rip of my panties, and pain, and a memory that would always be with me.

  Unsure if it was the best move or not, I whipped myself over onto my back, swatting at the hands as they moved down toward me, stabbing my feet into his chest hard enough to make him grunt.

  "I said no," I shrieked, the words a pained, desperate animal sound because that was exactly what I was in that moment.

  "So much spirit," he growled, reaching for my thighs, fingers bruising into the skin, trying to pull them apart as I used every bit of strength in my admittedly weaker body to hold them closed.

  No wasn't working.

  No meant nothing.

  I guess it never did.

  But what else could there possibly be?

  "I will press charges," I said, voice a low, vicious thing, maybe a part of me accepting my fate, but refusing to be a victim simultaneously. "Do you hear me? I will get myself off this floor, and I will call the police, and I will do a rape kit, and I will have them take the video from these security cameras, and I will fucking skewer you." My voice raised somewhere in the middle, loud enough that my throat hurt, my chest hurt, making me aware I was screaming the threat that was not empty.

  I would do all of that.

  He would never get away with it.

  And it was enough to give him pause. "You don't have security cameras."

  I didn't, that was true, the last time he asked me about them because of a break-in down the street. I couldn't afford a system. I even told him that.