Playboy

by Winter Travers

  “Guess I’ll need to bring you lunch more often then.” I looked around the office. “It’s only you here?”

  She nodded and handed me a plastic fork. “For today. Normally Leona is here with me.”

  I grabbed a container and snapped off the lid. “Is it really safe for you to be the only one here?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Nothing is going to happen to me because no one ever really comes here besides my bosses. Who, by the way, I haven’t seen in three weeks. They tend to stay on the job site while Leona and I handle all of the boring contracts and paperwork.”

  The phone on the desk rang, and she picked it up.

  I had never had a real nine-to-five job before, and I sat back to watch Raelyn in her element. She listened for a second and then turned to her computer. She started talking about floating decks and the price of using real wood and some fake shit that she swore looked just like real wood.

  I was halfway done with my food before she finally got off the phone after telling the person on the other end of the phone that they wouldn't regret going with the fake shit.

  “You like your job?”

  Raelyn laughed and dug into her food. “I like that it pays my bills.”

  “You seem pretty damn good at it.”

  She finished chewing and smiled. “Talking clients off the ledge seems to be my specialty. Leona tends to throw all the crazy calls my way so I’ve learned how to deal with them pretty well.” She stood up and walked over to the small fridge. “Did you want something to drink?” she called.

  I nodded. “Whatever you got is good.”

  She grabbed two bottles of water and handed one to me. “Sorry, no beer,” she laughed.

  “If there was, I might consider working here if you and Leona drink while you help plan people’s dream houses.”

  She plopped back in her chair. “I’ll be sure to let Boomer and Post know they could get more employees if they offered an open bar.”

  “Pretty sure people would love to go to work if open bars were available.”

  “Definitely would make work more interesting.”

  We chatted while we finished eating, and I couldn’t help but notice how easily Raelyn and I seemed to be with each other. Whether we were talking about her job, her sister, Leona, or the fact Leona hadn’t come home last night, I was fully engaged and hanging on her every word.

  “I’m pretty sure Leona was still holed up with Barracuda when I left.”

  “Shut up,” Raelyn gasped. She grabbed our empty containers and dropped them in the trash. “Also, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me Leona never made it home when I texted you.”

  I shrugged and snagged her by the hand when she walked past me. “I didn’t want to worry you on top of everything else. I knew she was in good hands with Barracuda.” I pulled her to me and into my lap.

  She laughed and wound her arms around my neck. “I’ve never had the pleasure of sitting like this at work before.”

  I brushed her hair behind her ear. “It’s been too long since I kissed you, and I saw my opening.”

  “Is that so?” she whispered.

  I nodded. “It is, pretty girl.”

  Her lips hovered over mine. “So, are you going to kiss me, then?”

  “Don’t gotta ask me twice, pretty girl.” I closed the gap between us, and her fingers delved into my hair. She moaned under my kiss, and she plastered her body against mine.

  The kiss went wild.

  My hands roamed over her back and tugged the hem of her shirt up. I touched the warm, bare skin of her back and growled. “You’re perfect, Raelyn.”

  She mewled into my mouth and dug her fingers into my hair. She twisted in my arms and straddled my waist.

  There was no stopping this kiss. We had only known each other a short time, but the sexual tension that had built between us was more than either of us could take anymore.

  I bunched her shirt up and pulled it over her head.

  “Playboy,” she gasped.

  “No one comes in here, right?” I growled.

  She shook her head but looked around unsure.

  I stood, her lush body in my arms, and stalked to the front door. I was going to make Raelyn mine. Nothing was going to stop me.

  I twisted the lock on the door. “Better?”

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Much better.” I strode over to the closest desk and cleared everything off it with a sweep of my hand. I sat her ass on the edge, and my fingers went to the button of her pants.

  I popped it open and slid the zipper down.

  “We’re really doing this here?” she panted.

  My eyes connected with hers. “Nothing is going to stop me unless you tell me no.”

  “Not saying no. Just needed a second to get some oxygen back to my brain.” A wonky smile spread across her lips.

  “Got enough oxygen now?”

  She grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pulled me close. “Oxygen is overrated.” She plastered her lips to mine, and I growled into her mouth. Her tongue moved against mine, and she grabbed my shirt. She ripped it off and tossed it on the floor. Her hands went to the fly of my jeans and clawed to pop open the button.

  I brushed her hands away and had my pants open within seconds. She pushed them down my legs and gasped when her eyes found my dick bobbing between them. She pressed a hand to my chest and pushed me back. My pants were around my ankles.

  She dropped to her knees in front of me. “Holy fuck.” She tipped her head back and looked up at me. “This is mine.”

  Whatever she wanted, she could fucking have.

  Her hand wrapped around my dick, and she stroked slowly.

  My sweet little Raelyn had turned into a vixen who had eyes only for my dick. I didn’t know where she had learned her moves, but I was fucking thankful she knew them.

  Her lips wrapped around my cock, and her tongue swirled over the tip.

  I delved my fingers into her hair and watched as her head bobbed up and down. One hand stayed at the base of my cock and the other laid in her lap.

  “Touch yourself,” I ordered. I wanted my cock in her mouth and her fingers in her pussy.

  Her eyes opened, and she stared up at me as my cock slowly slid down her throat. Her hand moved from her thigh and crept into her open pants. She raised up, her knees still on the floor, but her hand now on her pussy.

  “Are you wet for me, baby?” I asked.

  She moaned on my dick.

  “Stroke that clit. Imagine it’s my tongue.”

  She wasn’t going to have to imagine for long. She had about thirty seconds before I picked her up and laid her out on the desk so I could devour her.

  A gasp escaped her lips, and I slipped my dick further down her throat. She gagged slightly but didn’t move her head back. Her eyes connected with mine, and she swallowed around my cock.

  “Holy shit,” I groaned.

  She swallowed again, and I was seconds from coming down her throat.

  I grabbed her under her arms and lifted her up and onto the desk in one swoop. I pushed her legs up so her heels rested on the desk and she was spread wide for me. I devoured her pussy. The sweet taste coated my tongue as her fingers delved into my hair and she held me in place.

  “Oh, my God,” she moaned. “God, yes!”

  I sucked her clit into my mouth and swirled my tongue around it. Her hips bucked up, pressing her pussy into my face, and I dug in deeper.

  Raelyn’s pleasure was the only thing I wanted. Her moans and pants of desire spurred me on until she cried out. “Playboy!” she yelled. “I’m coming!”

  Her already wet pussy flooded around me, and I lapped at her clit with short, firm strokes with my tongue. She chanted my name, her orgasm crashing around her. Her body slowly relaxed until her ass was finally back on the desk, and her fingers eased in my hair.

  I leaned back and wiped my face with the back of my hand. “Ready for more, pretty girl?”

  She closed her eyes and bit
her lip. “There’s more?” she whispered.

  “We’re just getting started.”

  *

  Raelyn

  I was going to die right then and there.

  Playboy’s mouth on me was more than I had ever felt before.

  When he had dropped his pants, I couldn't control myself. I needed to know what he tasted like and nothing was going to stop me from finding out.

  The salty taste of his dick lingered in my mouth, and I wanted more. I just wasn’t sure I could take more after that Earth-shattering orgasm.

  Playboy crouched down for a second and popped back up with a condom in his hand. He raised it to his mouth and tore off the corner with his teeth. “Been wanting to fuck you since the night you knocked on my door, pretty girl. I know what your mouth feels like around my dick, but now I need to know what that pussy feels like.”

  He rolled the condom onto his cock, and I just watched. Playboy was a beautiful sight that begged to not only be looked at but also touched. I could spend hours exploring him visually and touching him, and I knew it wouldn’t be enough.

  He grabbed my hips and scooted me to the very edge of the desk. I sat up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and he nestled between my legs. He took off my glasses, folded them, and set them on the desk. Thank goodness I could still see somewhat without them.

  “As much as I want this to last forever, pretty girl, I’m gonna fuck you hard and quick because I’m about ten seconds from coming all over you.”

  I was happy with whatever he gave me.

  Hard and fast.

  Sweet and soft.

  I would take it all and want more.

  He pressed a hard kiss to my lips, and I reached down between us. I wrapped my fingers around his cock and squeezed. “I want whatever you will give me.”

  I was desperate for him, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

  His fingers delved into my hair, and his hand gripped the back of my head. “Put my dick inside you,” he ordered.

  I watched as I guided his dick inside me and gasped when his other hand grabbed my waist and held me there. He tugged my hair and tipped my head back ‘til my eyes connected with his.

  “You feel that?’ he growled.

  I mewled in response, unable to string two words together.

  “That’s me, pretty girl. Ain’t no one ever gonna be here again except for me. You got that?”

  I nodded stiffly. “Yes, Playboy.”

  He had claimed me, and I loved it.

  He wanted to own me? I was his to take. Nothing had ever felt more right.

  Inch by sweet inch, he slowly pulled back then slammed back into me. “Who do you belong to?” he grunted.

  He pulled back out and plunged back in before I could get the words out.

  “Who do you belong to?” he demanded again. “Say it,” he growled.

  “You,” I gasped. He pulled out and slammed back in. “I belong to you, Playboy.”

  His lips crashed down on mine, and he claimed my mouth the same way he had claimed my pussy. His hips moved into me, and I arched up to meet his thrusts.

  This was what I had wanted. The second I had met Playboy, I knew if I was lucky enough to be able to touch this man, I would never be the same.

  My second orgasm built with each thrust, promising to being even better than the one his mouth had given me.

  Playboy had been made for me, and I never wanted to give him up. Giving up this feeling was something I never would be able to do.

  His hand at my hip grazed over my skin and found my clit. His thumb glided over the tight bud.

  One flick.

  Two flicks.

  My orgasm crashed over me just as Playboy shouted my name and thrust one last time. He clutched me close, and I felt his dick throb inside me.

  “Fucking best,” he gasped.

  I closed my eyes and submerged myself in the feeling. Playboy held me close, and I buried my face in his chest.

  We both panted, trying to catch our breaths.

  His hands rubbed over my back, and my body slowly drifted down from pure ecstasy.

  “Now that’s what I call a lunch break.” Playboy chuckled, and his body rumbled against me.

  “If this is what happens when Leona calls in sick, I hope she never comes back,” I mumbled.

  Playboy leaned back, and a satisfied smile played on his lips. “You get that open bar and Leona will be out of a job.”

  I sighed and reached up. I traced a finger over his perfect lips. “I’m pretty sure if you took Leona’s job, nothing would ever get done and we would both get fired.”

  He shrugged and pressed a quick kiss to my lips. “But what fun we would have before we got fired.”

  The phone rang next to my ass, and I instinctively answered it without blinking. “Holmes and Gains Construction.” Yes, I had just answered the phone with Playboy’s dick still inside me.

  Playboy smothered a laugh with the back of his hand, and I glared at him.

  “Sure. I’m right by your desk. I’ll make sure it’s there.” I dropped the phone back on the cradle, fumbled to get my glasses back on, and leaned over to look at the papers on the floor.

  “Who was that?” Playboy asked.

  “Leona,” I mumbled. “She asked me to make sure the Trent file was on her desk.”

  Playboy looked down. “Uh, is it somewhere down there?”

  I shrugged. “Let’s hope so.” I looked up at him and smiled. “Also, this is Leona’s desk.”

  Whoops.

  *

  Chapter Eleven

  Playboy

  Roll the tape...

  “What are we going to do to help them?”

  I shrugged and pulled out a cigarette. “We’ve got the money to help them.”

  “You really think just giving the Devil’s Rebels the money they want is going to make them go away?” Tank asked. “They’ll find some bullshit reason to demand more six months from now. Once you fuck with the Devil’s Rebels, you might as well just accept the fact you’ll forever owe them.”

  Tank was probably more than right.

  “But it would keep them happy for a while,” Jet pointed out.

  “So, we lend the Kings the money, but what are we really getting out of it?” Six-Gun asked.

  We were gathered around the bar, and I was trying to persuade the guys to help the Kings of Vengeance. It was going as well as I had anticipated.

  Not well.

  “Interest on the loan,” I suggested.

  Barracuda walked into the common room and pulled up a stool. “They want in on Skinz,” he stated.

  Rebel scoffed. “Say what?”

  Barracuda shrugged. “They want to buy into the franchise. We let them use the clout of the name and then take a skim off of their profits. We also charge interest on the thirty K loan.”

  Skinz had over ten clubs along the west coast. It was a very profitable business because of the high standards we had when it came to the girls and the atmosphere of the club. The club just down the road from the clubhouse was the first one we had opened, and it was our most profitable. Deciding to expand the Skinz club with a different MC at the helm was risky, but it could also make us a lot of money.

  “If we let them use the name, this could become something bigger. We could become a franchise that people could pay big bucks to buy into,” Monk pointed out.

  Barracuda nodded. “It definitely has big potential if we do it right. I’m gonna run the idea through a couple of the other presidents of other Royal Bastards chapters, though. I need an outside perspective to see if it really is a good idea.”

  The guys agreed if other chapters thought it was a good idea then it was something they wanted to move forward with.

  “You two manage to go over the tapes from the club?” Barracuda asked Rebel and Tank.

  Tank nodded. “Yeah. We figured out which guy Violet was talking about. He showed up at ten and stayed until close.”

  “He was outside i
n his car when Billie Jean walked out.” Rebel grabbed a beer and popped the top.

  “He grabbed her?” I asked.

  Tank shook his head. “Nope. She walked right up to his car, got in, and then they drove off.”

  “What the fuck?” Barracuda grumbled. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. As far as we know, Billie Jean never saw the guy in her life before and she just drives off with him?”

  “But that wasn’t the last time we caught him on camera, though.” Rebel pulled out his phone and handed it to Barracuda. “That is from the last shift Memphis worked.”

  I shifted behind Barracuda and watched the clip of the film on his phone. “That’s the same guy.”

  “Sure the fuck is.” Tank pointed at the phone. “Keep watching.”

  “Guy sat in Memphis’ section the whole night. Doesn’t talk to her too much or seem suspicious. Stays until close. Goes out to his car and waits. Memphis walks out of the club, gets in his car, and they drive off.” Rebel shook his head.

  “What the fuck?” Barracuda growled. “Why the fuck do they get in the car with him?” he demanded.

  I grabbed the phone from Barracuda and watched the video of Memphis again. None of this was making sense. The connection between Billie Jean and Memphis was this guy, but I was fucking stumped as to why and what happened.

  “You think he’s somehow getting the girl’s to come home with him and then he’s killing them?” Jet asked.

  “We got a fucking serial killer on our hands?” Jinx suggested.

  “Whatever the fuck is going on, we need to get that guy’s picture in the hands of all of the girls. If he’s managed to grab two girls already, there's no way to know if he’s looking to take more girls.” He pointed at the phone. “Get the best picture of him that you can and circulate it with everyone at the club. Double the security at the door, and let’s see if we can catch this guy.”

  Tank nodded. “Will do, ‘cuda.”

  “Someone has to know who this guy is, and we’re gonna fucking find out.” Barracuda slammed his fist on the bar.

  Whoever this guy was, he was fucking with the girls at the club, and that meant he was fucking with the club.

  I pulled my phone out and sent a text to Raelyn. Yesterday, when we had lunch and tested out Leona’s desk, we hadn’t talked about what was happening with Billie Jean. I could tell she was struggling with not knowing what was going on. I had been trying to figure out what happened that night but was coming up short. Now we at least had a picture of one of the last people to be seen with Billie Jean.