by Portia Moore
“I don’t know why I tell you things like this, why you make me feel like this. I never thought it’d be possible for me, but I don’t want to keep questioning it. I’m only telling you this because if I suck at this you’ll know why.”
It blows me away that she’s worried about her performance. It could never be anything but good with her, and I want her to know that. I don’t know why she’s picked me to be the one to be her first, but I suddenly feel honored, as if I’ve been given the opportunity to make something truly special for her.
“I don’t know what to say,” I murmur. “Are you sure?” Asking her that is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. My fingers tighten on her waist, and I’m harder than I can ever remember being. I’m breathing heavily, every cell in my body begging her to say yes, that she’s sure.
Her response is to reach up and unbutton her shirt. My heart is pounding as I lift her up, her legs locking around my waist as I carry her to the bed, her shirt falling to the carpet as I lay her back on the mattress. She’s looking up at me with awe and more than a little nervousness, and I lean over her, trailing my lips down her flat, smooth stomach. I dip lower, kissing the fabric between her legs softly, and she whimpers, a tiny sound that makes my stomach tighten and my cock twitch.
I slide her panties gently down her thighs, stroking them with my fingertips as I undress her, and when I part her legs and bend down to kiss her again, this time with my lips against bare skin, I feel her tremble and melt against me. The soft whimpers turn to moans, and she tries to stifle them at first, but she can’t. The knowledge that I’m the first to do this to her, the first to taste her, the first to show her how pleasurable this can be, is overwhelming. I’ve never been so hard in my life, my dick throbbing painfully in my boxers, but I take my time, licking and caressing her as she cries out and writhes on the sheets, gasping my name. I can feel her orgasm start to build, the muscles in her thighs tightening, and she starts to squirm away. I grip her hips, holding her firmly in place as my tongue lashes against her clit, swirling in circles as she grabs onto the sheets and comes with a shriek that might wake the neighbors in the next apartment building. She’s soaking wet, her thighs trembling around my face as she comes apart.
The minute the orgasm starts to subside I make my way up her body, kissing every inch of skin as I do. I never knew I could have this much restraint, but I want this to be incredible for her. “You’re so beautiful, Megan,” I whisper against her mouth as I kiss her, and she doesn’t recoil from the taste of herself on my lips. Instead she kisses me hungrily, deepening it as her legs wrap around my hips, and my cock throbs desperately. I’m half afraid I might come before I even get inside of her.
I slide the condom on as I ask her one last time, praying for the answer to be yes as I kiss her neck and then lean over her, kissing her gently. “Are you sure?” My words are soft, gentle, but I can hear the desperation at the edge of them, the need that I’m barely holding back.
Her gaze as it meets mine is full of desire, on fire with it, and it sends a matching wave of lust through me. “Yes, please,” she whispers, and I slide my fingers between her legs, brushing my thumb over her clit so that the pleasure is running through her body again as I press the tip of my cock against her, kissing her as I do. With every bit of restraint I have, I go slowly, inch by inch, not wanting to hurt her more than absolutely necessary. She envelops me until I can hardly think past the ecstasy of it.
I think I hear her whisper something as I finally slide into her all of the way, gasping, and I’m panting too, trying to hold myself still as I throb inside of her, her body clasping me as if she never wants to let me go. “You okay?” I ask, and she nods, breathless.
“Yes, don’t stop,” she whispers. And I don’t. I don’t know how I could, although I would have. I begin to move, slow, deep thrusts, and I can feel the pleasure of it radiating out to the tips of my fingers, better than anything I’ve ever felt. I meet her eyes and see some indescribable emotion there, and I know it’s reflected in mine. I’ve never felt like this with anyone. I press my forehead to hers as I surge inside of her, making it last as long as I can. When I finally come, trembling with the force of it, moaning her name, I can’t ever remember another orgasm that could compare.
I hold her in my arms afterwards, wrapping them around her gently as I kiss her shoulder, cradling her soft naked body against mine. I feel her drift off into sleep, and I’m not far behind her, sated exhaustion overwhelming me.
I want this to last forever, is the last thought that goes through my head.
7
Alana
I’m finally on my way to meet Jadon. I’m skeptical about whether or not this guy he’s telling me about is going to be the real deal, but it’s worth a shot. Beth has yet to come through with anything, and frankly, fuck her. The longer I put this off, the more I worry about whether or not Megan—or I—will just go ahead and call Dexter. Or worse yet, if he gets tired of waiting to hear from me and just shows up at the club again.
When I walk into Jadon’s apartment, the first thing I notice is the guy sitting on the couch. He’s sexy, with full lips, ocean blue eyes, a sharp jawline, a mohawk and silver lip piercing, and I’m immediately intrigued.
Calm down. You’ve got enough on your plate with Ian. Figure that shit out before you try your luck with anyone else. I grin at him, and when Jadon walks into the room, he immediately introduces us.
“Alana, this is the guy I was telling you about. You can call him Blue, we all do. He’s the best in the business, can dig up anything on anyone. Whatever you need, he can get it for you.”
Blue digs in his pocket and pulls out a flash drive. “I’ve got a good bit of information on this for you,” he says, holding it out to me. “Should be just about everything you need.”
I reach out to grab it out of his hand, but before I can snag it Jadon steps between us. “Nah,” he says, grinning at me. “Before you get that sweet flash drive you have to do a job for me. Deal’s a deal, right?” His hazel eyes twinkle at me and I realize how many girls must think they look angelic when really he’s closer to the devil.
“Go fuck yourself,” I snap at Jadon, and turn my attention to Blue, who is watching the whole exchange with amusement. “Blue? I’ll pay you whatever you want for that flash drive. Just give it to me.”
“Hey, hey,” Jadon cuts in again, waving at me. “Blue is going with you to help you with this job. He’s my guy, remember?”
I narrow my eyes at Jadon. I’m a little curious as to what kind of a job would require two people to pull it off, but I also don’t need someone else getting in my way. “I work by myself,” I say guardedly, looking between the two of them.
“Cool it with the lone wolf shit, alright?” Jadon rolls his eyes at me. “This job is different.”
“What do you mean, different? What does it pay?”
“Your cut is eight thousand.”
I keep my poker face, but only barely. I’ve never gotten that much from Jadon—hell, I took his car because he was screwing me out of part of eight hundred that he owed me. Either this job is dangerous as fuck, or Jadon has lost his mind. Or he’s lying to me. “What’s the catch?” I demand, glaring at him.
“This mark isn’t your usual rich dude easily blinded by titties and the promise of sex with someone under the age of thirty. He’s a drug dealer in a biker gang in Minnesota.”
I stare at him for a moment. “No fucking way,” I reply, shaking my head. “A biker gang? You’re out of your mind.”
“I’ll give you ten thousand.”
This is way out of my depth. But ten thousand is a lot of money. And what’s more, I can tell Jadon is desperate for me to do this job if he’s going to give me that much. I can probably get more out of him. “Twelve thousand,” I demand. “I’ll do it for that.”
“Deal,” Jadon says immediately.
Should’ve asked for fifteen.
“Blue is going with you. The job is the same as it alwa
ys is: hang out with the guy, get him talking, record everything he says. Blue is your escort…sort of.”
“It’s alright,” I tell him dryly. “You can say pimp. I know what you really mean.”
Blue looks mildly uncomfortable, but Jadon snorts with laughter. “I really like you, Aly. I like you a lot. I missed you, you know that?”
“So you keep saying.” I turn to Blue. “Alright. We do the job, I get the flash drive. You ready to go?”
I’m not the biggest fan of riding in other people’s cars, but Blue’s black hatchback Mazda looks like the car of a man who doesn’t go over sixty-five on the interstate, so I figure that I could do worse. Although I’d never admit to anyone out loud, we’re probably safer than we would be in any of my joyriding cars.
He catches my expression as I look at the car and laughs out loud. “Look, I know it’s not very rock and roll, but it gets me where I need to go and it’ll get us to Minnesota in one piece, and with only using like half of the gas budget that Jadon gave me.” He winks at me. “Which leaves more money for road snacks.”
I roll my eyes, but if I have to be partnered with someone, Blue doesn’t seem half bad. At least he has a sense of humor. And he’s the first man in a long time who hasn’t eye-fucked me the second I walked into his field of vision, which says something about him as a person. Ordinarily I’d be a little insulted, or figure he’s gay, but since I’m going to be alone with him for a little while, I’m glad he seems to be a decent guy. I’m surprised to find one in the wild.
“You know,” I tell him conversationally as we pull out onto the highway, “we could just ditch Jadon’s plan, and I’ll just pay you for the information. Avoid all this unnecessary danger, you know?” I want the twelve thousand…but I also like being alive. I’m reckless often, but this just seems unnecessarily dangerous.
Blue just laughs, passing a car as he shakes his head at me. “I owe Jadon a favor,” he explains. “So I think we’ll stick with the plan.”
I wrinkle my nose, but don’t argue with him. After all, there is that twelve thousand to consider. “So what has you running jobs for Jadon?” I ask casually.
He looks sideways at me, grinning. “He’s an old friend. What has you digging up information on rich old families?”
“That’s none of your business,” I mutter, sinking deeper into the seat.
“Probably not,” Blue agrees easily. “Where are you from?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
He laughs. “You’re a tough nut to crack. I see why Jadon likes you. You’re a challenge.”
“Do you think I’m a challenge?”
“Nah. But I don’t have the kind of interest in you that Jadon does.”
“What’s that?”
Blue grins. “He wants to fuck you. Like most men do, I guess.”
“And you don’t?” I want to be offended, but the way Blue says it I can tell he doesn’t mean it that way.
He shrugs. “There’s a girl I’m interested in. And I might do some shady things, but I like to think I’m faithful when it comes to women.”
“Ah, the mythical good guy.”
“I don’t claim to be a good guy. But I’m not an asshole to women. My family’s done enough of that for me to sit out.”
“Even more mythical.” I shake my head at him. “So you’re okay with pretending to pimp me out to some biker dude?”
“Job’s a job. Besides, you seem okay with it.”
“Money’s good.”
“Exactly.” He glances at me again. “We’ve got a ways to go, so settle in. I don’t imagine either of us will rest easy until this is done, once we’re there.”
I’m too keyed up to nap, though. We make some small talk—as much as we can when I’m basically a closed book. Blue is much more open and easygoing, strange really, for a man in his line of work. He doesn’t seem jaded or bitter and it’s refreshing, even if I don’t entirely trust it.
We meet our mark just outside of a rundown building that seems to serve as the club headquarters. The overgrown spot that serves as a parking “lot” is full of gleaming motorcycles, and as Blue puts the car into park I see him striding towards us. He’s a tall man, a little over six foot three, with long-ish combed back brown hair and a thick, short beard. He’s not ugly, but not really what I would call handsome either. He’s certainly not the jacked dreamboat that Sons of Anarchy promised me.
That makes me think of Ian, and I quickly push him out of my head. Not only do I not need to be distracted right now, but I also need to just forget about Ian altogether. Our little episode on the beach pretty much proved that no matter how good it might feel, sex with him is a bad idea. And there’s no future with him outside of just sex.
“What’s this?” the man growls as he sees Blue. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend.”
“Hugh is my escort,” I say coolly, looking up at the man. “Just to make sure I’m safe. I’m Bridgette.”
“Escort, huh? Like any one of my guys couldn’t take him on the spot. Fucking poser. ”
“Try me.” Blue says his voice cold as ice, and I suddenly feel a little better about this. The man snorts, taking in Blue’s mohawk and piercing, he’s just as tall and when I glance at Blue there’s a fire in his expression I wouldn’t have ever thought he had before now. The guy’s eyes skim over me now, in a way that makes it very obvious that he’s thinking about exactly what I look like with my clothes off. Of course, that’s what he expects he’s going to get, and it always gives me a pleased thrill to remember that in the end, none of these guys ever get what they want.
“I’m just here to make sure the transaction goes smoothly.” Blue raises his hands innocently his tone a tad less hostile.
“What’s your name?” I ask flirtatiously, ignoring Blue and sidling up to the man. This is my part of the job, and I’m damn good at it.
“Mark,” he says, and I stifle a snicker. I love a good pun, and I can see when I flick my eyes sideways towards Blue that he’s having some trouble keeping a straight face, too.
“Somethin’ funny?” the man growls, and I shake my head, moving closer to him with that perfect sway of my hips that I know hypnotizes men.
“Nope,” I say, looking up at him and fluttering my lashes. “Not a single thing.”
Getting back to Mark’s apartment is the easiest thing in the world. Blue and I are allowed to sit in the common area of the clubhouse while the guys conduct their business, and then when Mark emerges, his eyes go directly to me. There’s the usual hunger in them that I’m used to seeing, but it’s detached, like I’m a particularly desirable object.
Ian didn’t look at you like that. He looked at you like you were the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
I tell myself to shut up. After all, I’m not going to sleep with Mark, I’m just going to make him think I did. He takes me back to his apartment, where he pours me a slug of whiskey, adds Coke, and then proceeds to cook us two steaks—very rare—and a pile of French fries. To my surprise, the food isn’t half bad, and the best part about it is that while he was cooking, I was able to add the powdered drug I’d brought with me to his drink.
The result will be that shortly after the meal, I’ll get Mark to go to bed with me, he’ll pass out before I actually have to do anything, and when he wakes up he won’t remember a damn thing. He’ll just wake up next to me and assume that sex happened. And what’s more, the drug makes it really hard to get an erection for a couple of days, so there’s no chance of me having to do anything in the morning, either.
It all goes down exactly as I planned—which is to say, I don’t have to go down at all, or anything else. Mark passes out within a few minutes of fumbling with my bra strap. I lay down next to him, wrapped in my robe, and try to fall asleep. Lying next to this snoring hulk of a man isn’t exactly great for my beauty sleep, but I suppose I have to do something to earn that twelve grand.
Exactly as expected, he wakes up the next morning and has a pleased, se
lf-satisfied smirk on his face when he sees me in bed next to him, half-dressed. He of course wants round two, but when he starts kissing my neck and realizes he isn’t getting hard, it’s five minutes of him awkwardly touching himself and trying to coax an erection before he finally, embarrassedly tries to shrug it off as too much whiskey the night before.
Breakfast is cereal, which is one of my least favorite things to eat, but here we are. While we eat, I look provocatively over at him. “Want to do something fun this afternoon?” I ask, letting just enough of a suggestive tone seep into my words that he can surmise what the “fun” I’m suggesting is.
“Sorry, darlin’,” he says regretfully. “I’ve got a job to do this afternoon. And you’re going back tonight. So I guess last night is all we get. I’ll still pay the full amount, though.”
Oh, gosh, how terrible.
I pout. “Take me along,” I beg, sidling up to him and rubbing his arm, my breasts pressed against his back.
“What? On the job? Hell no. It’s too dangerous for a little thing like you.” He grins, almost paternalistic, and I just about throw up in my mouth a little.
“I like danger.” I smile brilliantly at him. “A little thrill just gets me going, you know? And all the motorcycles…well, maybe we could find a spot to have round two, I might be able to even call a friend? I’d be so worked up, seeing you do what you’re best at…”
“Oh, you’ve already seen what I’m best at,” he growls, but I can tell I’m wearing him down.
Sure enough, after breakfast I’m on the back of his motorcycle and we’re headed out on the run that he had planned for the morning. Being on the bike means I’m forced to cling to him more than I’d like, but I picture the stacks of money that Jadon will be paying me in my head, and grit my teeth to get through it.
The whole thing is actually much tamer than television would have had me believe. It’s not hard for me to convince Mark to let me go in with him—after all, I’m supposed to be recording this—because he’s more than happy to show off the gorgeous piece of ass he’s snagged to the guy he’s selling the drugs to. He hands over the bags of weed and cocaine, the scrawny, junkie-looking man who’s purchasing hands over several stacks of cash, which Mark shoves into the saddlebags, and the whole thing is done.