by Faye Byrd
Backing her against the wall, I fuck her mouth with my tongue and lift her tank with my fingers, ghosting my palms against the sides of her braless tits. Jesus. I groan, pulling my lips away so they can caress as much skin as possible. She’s beautiful and breathless, her chest heaving under my ministrations.
“Stop.” Her fists tighten in my hair. “I … can’t.”
Reluctantly, I lift my head, my eyes intent on her. “What’s the problem? I thought this was settled.”
“Is it?” She lifts a challenging brow.
I tweak her nipples, my eyes falling to the tightened buds. “I gave my word.”
“That …”
My eyes trail from her tits to her flushed face. “You’re it. While we’re fucking, it’s only you.” I lift her arms, pulling the tank upward as I go. “But that means you’ll need to be available more often. I’m a man with needs.”
“Maybe I have needs, too,” she challenges, her flush running all the way to her heaving chest. “What if you can’t keep up, old man?”
I run my hands down to the waist of her ripped jean shorts. “That’ll never happen, Miranda.” My voice is rough from the aching need to dominate. “How much?” Her brows furrow, confusion marring her beautiful face. “I’m going to make you scream my name. How much is it going cost me?”
“That slobber-knob isn’t getting anywhere near this tight pussy.” She smirks, a twinkle in her eyes. “It’s going to require a deep-tissue disinfecting first.”
“Is that so?” I give her my own smirk.
“Absolutely so.”
“Then let the disinfecting begin.”
I grab her once again and toss her over my shoulder. She doesn’t scream, yell, or pitch a fit this trip, though, and my guess is because she’s every bit as turned on as me. I never did get a price, and I frankly don’t give a fuck. She can have it all as long as she sticks to her end of the agreement.
I don’t let her down as I start the shower, choosing instead to make sure she doesn’t take the opportunity to run—truth be told, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to. She’s getting her way, and I’ll stick to my word. Who would want a random chick on their cock when they get to have a fresh, tight, fiery pussy on the regular anyway?
Not this smart motherfucker.
The warm water spills from three different shower heads, and I don’t care that our clothes are drenched as I set her on her feet and press our chests tightly together. All I care about is that she’s here, and a personal scrubbing will be enough to get me inside her again.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she says, her hands slipping beneath my T-shirt. “But it has potential.”
I smile as she pushes it up. “Yeah?” I tussle with the wet material as I work it over my head and toss it to the shower floor before reaching for the zipper of my jeans. “Does it have enough potential to get me laid?”
She swats my hands away and works the jeans down my hips. “I thought you were going to make me scream your name.”
I fist her soaked hair, tugging her head to the side. “I like a fucking challenge, Miranda,” I murmur, leaning down and scraping my teeth against the exposed skin of her neck.
“Randi,” she pants, her nails digging into my sides. “People I’m close to call me Randi.”
“Turn around, Randi.”
It’s a demand, and I don’t wait for her to comply. Instead, I move her myself, lifting her hands above her head and holding them against the wall. I reach around to unbutton the sopping jean shorts and push them off her sexy hips. The soaked pale pink lace that’s left behind leaves nothing to the imagination, and I’d forgotten just how fine her ass is.
I peel the flimsy material from her hips, and push them to the floor, leaving her exposed. I kick her legs wider. Water cascades down her body, but that isn’t the slick wetness my fingers encounter when they reach her tight center.
She moans when I slip a finger inside so I add another, working them in and out at a practiced pace, reminding myself that she’s only experienced sex one other time. My lips trail across her shoulder and nibble at her nape while exhaling steamy, hot breaths against her skin. Chills pebble, and she shivers, even as we’re surrounded by steam from the warm water.
“You like the feel of my fingers in that pussy, Randi?” I croon, speeding my movements as she tightens. “Don’t be shy, babe. You look so fucking hot spread before me like this.” I lick across her shoulder and zero in on the spot behind her ear, sucking hard. “Let me feel that pussy clenching,” I whisper-growl, nibbling on her lobe. “That’s it, babe.”
The first spasm hits, and she nearly collapses. But I don’t let her, instead reaching around to hold her upright and drive her even wilder with two fingers circling her throbbing nub. From both sides, I work her into a frenzy and collect spasm after spasm from her shaking body. Her hand slaps against the shower wall, and I continue until her legs clamp onto my hand, stilling it.
Spinning her, I waste no time before shoving my tongue into her mouth in a heated display of need. “Get to work,” I say, pulling away and stepping back, motioning to my cock. “Make sure it’s up to your standards because I’m fucking dying to be inside you.”
It takes her a second to snap from her orgasm-induced haze, but after staring dumbly for a moment, she finally reaches for the soap. I lean back against the wall and shut my eyes. I almost come as soon as she touches me, but I clench my jaw and hold that shit back.
Embarrassment isn’t my thing.
“You never got a price,” she says softly, her hands expertly slipping up and down my shaft. “What if I said ten k again?”
“Fuck, Randi,” I groan, fighting like hell to not blow my load at the sight of her on her knees with her hands on me. “I’m tempted to say it’d be worth it.”
She stills, and I breathe through the reprieve, both hating and appreciating it at the same time. “Two k a pop,” she finally says, leaning to the side so she can rinse the soap. “I think that’s a fair price—for both of us.”
I look at her then—really look. Water dots her skin and runs in rivulets from the tips of her long hair. Her heart-shaped face is makeup free, and her deep eyes are full of mystery and danger. She’s me in the female form, only ten years younger and every bit as dark and intelligent.
“That’s fair,” I grunt as she stands and pushes her naked form against me.
“Then make me scream your name,” she whispers against my lips.
I close my eyes and take the plunge, even knowing she’s going to cost me more than money before this is over.
CHAPTER FIVE
A Private Deal
Randi
U coming by today? – E
Do I need to? – R
Hell yes – E
Let me see if I can pencil you in – R
Wouldn’t u rather have a nice thick magic marker? – E
I giggle, rolling my eyes. Maybe – R
Then u should cum – E
How’s a girl gonna resist an invitation like that? – R
She doesn’t – E
I’ll text you when I’m otw – R
I’m still staring at my phone when a hand reaches over and takes it from me. “Who the hell names their kid Lion?” Layla asks, scrolling through our string of messages. “And oh my God, you’re sleeping with him already?”
I snatch it back, my moment of shock over. “That’s none of your fucking business,” I snap, locking my phone so she can’t pull a move like that again. “And that’s the name I call him.” I waggle my brows, implying it means more than it does.
“Ohhh, right,” she says, though her face tells me she clearly doesn’t get it. “Is it someone I know?”
I sure hope not.
“Doubt it,” I respond, letting the lie roll off my tongue. “He lives in Fort Dick.”
“When will I get to meet him?”
I shrug, shoving my new Mac into my backpack. “Let’s see how it goes first, okay?” I crin
kle my nose, standing and shouldering my bag. “To be honest, I don’t think we’ll ever be anything outside the bedroom.”
“That’s … not like you,” Layla says, gathering her things and hurrying to catch up with me. “You’re okay with just a hookup?”
“Come on.” I bump into her shoulder. “Haven’t we always dreamed about nabbing a guy who knows how to use his big cock?”
“You’re serious?” She stops walking and grabs my arm, watching my expression. “Wow, you went from virgin to porn star in a hot second.”
“Yeah.” I let out a laugh. “I guess I did.”
“Does he have a hot brother?” she asks, leaning close so no one can overhear.
“Hmm.” I picture the other Lions, zeroing in on Mikey. But should I? Layla isn’t very street smart, and she could end up in real trouble if shit were to go down. What am I saying? When shit goes down. “I don’t know,” I say, considering. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Yes.” She fist pumps, and I laugh because she looks so dorky doing it.
“What’s so funny?” Jack asks, scaring the shit out of me.
My laughter dies. “What are you doing here?”
“What?” he says, lifting a brow. “Am I not allowed or something?”
“Or something,” Layla mumbles, side-eyeing me.
“What?” Jack barks, cupping his ear. “You got something to say to me?”
“She doesn’t.” I step between them, not wanting Layla to move herself any higher on his shit list. “Did you have a reason for stopping by, or are you considering enrolling at Triple C?”
“I thought we’d go for a ride,” he says, tilting his head for me to jump on behind him like it’s nothing, and I guess it isn’t if I think in terms of the past. I’ve ridden with him dozens of times before, though mostly to piss off Rodney. “Hop on.”
“I don’t know, Jack,” I hedge, eyeing my truck. “I have a lot of school work to do when I get home.”
“We’ll be quick,” he responds, cranking his bike to life, which drowns out my would-be objections.
I huff as I toss my bag into the truck, and Layla catches me before I can get away. “Are you sure about this, Randi?”
“Might as well see what he wants.” I shrug. “I’ll text you later.”
Growing up around here, we’ve both known Jackson Landers for our entire lives. He’s seven years our senior and technically from Pacific Shores, but you don’t live around here and not know about the Raging Werewolves. They used to keep their business out of our city limits, mostly due to Rodney, but since my mom’s death seven years ago, they’ve taken advantage of his alcoholic spiral and have started to inch their way into Crescent City.
“As soon as you’re home.” She jabs her pointer finger at me, sounding like someone’s mother.
“Got it.” I wave her off, hoping she’ll go without saying anything to Jack. She hates him, and the feeling is mutual. She’s always despised my penchant for using him to fuck with Rodney, and he can’t stand her smart mouth.
With a nasty look in his direction, she’s in her Jetta and backing from her spot. I breathe a sigh of relief before turning to Jack. He’s watching me with a hard expression, and my stomach ties itself in knots as I consider the dangerous game I’m playing. He’s always been cool toward me, but if he finds out I’m lying about the sale to cover up my relationship with the Lion president, I don’t know what he’ll do.
He’s capable of some awful shit.
“Got an extra helmet?”
“Nope,” he says, revving the motor. “The idea that Rodney might catch you without one is too much fun to consider.”
I bob my head, tossing my leg over and securing my hands around his waist. I don’t know why this bothers me so much. I used to get a kick out of defying the law and hoping the sheriff saw, but now I worry someone else might instead. I could literally set off a war in the streets by agreeing to this ride, yet I have no viable excuse to say no. Burying my forehead against his Wolf patch, I close my eyes and hope for the best
The ride is quick, and when salty air assaults my senses, I lift my head. We’ve come to a stop in the deserted parking lot at Pelican Beach, and I feel partially relieved and partially unnerved. I’m glad we’re nowhere in Crescent City, but I don’t like that we’re so alone. The vibe between us feels off, and I don’t know if it’s because of my guilty conscience or if my lies are about to catch up to me.
Jack parks the bike and hops off, facing the distant beach. I’m hesitant as I join him, the tension in the air making me nervous. “What the fuck’s going on?” I say, standing tall. It’s the best chance I have to counteract his weird demeanor. “Why did you bring me here?”
He glances my way before producing a business card out of thin air and turning his attention back to the beach. “I know the attack ruined your plans, so I found you a private deal.”
I take the white rectangle. “For?” I ask curiously, bringing it up to read. Anton Voyer, Del Norte Septic Service, Fort Dick, California, 725-355-5555. “I’m not sure I understand.”
He whips his head in my direction, his long dark hair blowing in the breeze. “I felt bad after the sale fell through, so I’ve been looking for a new buyer. I finally found someone I approve of, and more importantly, we’ve come to an agreement on price.”
My brows furrow. “I’m not sure I’m following, Jack.”
He tugs on the chain, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. Lifting out a piece of paper, he unfolds it and passes it over. I take it warily and look down. It’s a cashier’s check from the aforementioned man in the sum of five thousand dollars, and it’s made out to Jackson Landers.
“Cool,” I say with a shrug, holding it out for him. “I hope you don’t have to kill someone for that kind of payday.”
“Randi,” he growls, snatching the check and closing it in his fist. “This is for us.” He waves said fist between us, and my face screws up. “The sale,” he stresses, looking at me strangely. I still don’t get it. “You know, your virginity.”
My heart drops to my stomach, and I try like hell to keep my expression even. I’m not sure if I’m successful, but I do know my voice shakes when I reply. “I’m already in school. The sale isn’t important anymore.”
“Not important, maybe.” He shrugs, putting the wrinkled up check into his wallet and shoving it back into his pocket. “But it’s all set up. As you can see, he’s already delivered the funds.”
I cross my arms in a huff. “I am not sleeping with some random man for five thousand dollars.”
“No. You aren’t,” he says, and I sigh in relief. “You’re doing it for three.”
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” I ask, my temper rising. Not only has this stupid fuck sold me without my consent, he thinks he’s getting two-fifths of the cash. “First, I’m not sleeping with him at all. And second, if I were, I’m worth way more than five thousand.” I take three steps and jab him in the chest. “You don’t get a cut of this pussy.”
His jaw tightens, and the coldness that seeps into his expression is enough to cause worry, but I’m too pissed to heed my internal warning bell. “You’ll do it for free if I say so, Randi,” he snarls, gripping my chin tightly. “You’re lucky I haven’t already taken it for myself.”
“How dare you?!” I claw at his arm, and when he doesn’t let go, I slap him hard enough to turn his face. “I’m not your fucking property!”
My fingerprints stain his cheek, but otherwise, he’s unaffected. “I’ve always liked your fiery spirit, but don’t let it get you hurt.” He shoves me backward and moves to straddle his bike. “I’ll give you a few days to come to terms with the deal, and I’ll be back in touch. This isn’t negotiable.” Cranking his bike to life, he shifts it into gear and cruises out of the lot, leaving me alone and gaping after him.
What in the fuck just happened? And better yet, what the fuck am I supposed to do about it without starting World War III? Enzo is my only play, but he
’s also the messiest one. I have no choice but to share what happened here with him, and I have no idea how he’s going to react.
“Randi?” His voice fills me with calm. “I thought you were out an hour ago.”
“Enzo.” I say his name all relieved and shit. “I need you.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, his tone more serious. “Is everything okay?”
“For now,” I reply, walking toward the edge of the parking lot. “Can you come get me? I’m at Pelican Beach.”
“You don’t have a ride?”
“No,” I say softly. “Hurry please. I’ll explain later.”
“I’m on my way.”
I move away from the parking lot and out of sight for anyone who may pull in. I don’t want to be caught unaware, especially if Jack changes his mind and returns. I’m not sure what to make of today. I’ve always known he’s dangerous, but it’s also been in the abstract. I’ve only flirted around the periphery, and it’s never been aimed at me before.
Even when I hear the chorus of Harley motors in the distance, I stay hidden behind a chunk of marram grass. That distinct sound has announced Jack’s arrival as long as I’ve known him, and I’m not the damsel in distress who always gets killed in movies. I’ll make sure this is Enzo before showing my face. Jack just forced me to choose a side in the looming war, and it isn’t his.
“Randi,” Enzo calls over the thundering rumble of Harley motors. “Are you here?”
I stand, scurrying from the bushes. “Coming.” I wave as I run to him, and when I get there, I throw my arms around him and bury my face in his muscular chest. “Thank you.”
“What the fuck?” he mutters, pulling me away so he can look me over. “Are you hurt?” I shake my head. “How did you get here?”
“Can we talk about it back at the clubhouse?” I ask, urging him to move toward his bike. “We’re in Wolf territory. It’s not safe here.”
“Not so fucking fast.” He grabs my arm as I try to pass. “Did that motherfucker do something to you?”
I sigh, unsure what to say. “Not yet.”