“I’m not going back. You shouldn’t have come after me because now I’m going to have to kill you.” I dig the blade into the skin a little more over his shirt to prove my point that I’m not bluffing, my breath coming out in pants that I wish I could control.
This guy's whole body shudders, his shoulders shaking… is he crying? Why isn’t he wearing the Joker's cut? Did Payne send another club in the area after me to do his dirty work?
“Oh, sweetness, I have to say this isn’t my first time a woman threatened to kill me. Did I not call you back after fucking you into the mattress? I’m usually up front that it won’t happen again after I’m done deep dicking you that you’ll be feeling me for days, sweetheart.” His voice softly quiet but oh so deep, just enough to give you chills that stroke down your spine.
What. The. Hell.
My grip loosens a little in shock, the pressure of the blade easing off him and he takes advantage of that as he spins around to face me. My startled breath comes out in a rush as I stare up at a face that knocks my knees together.
“Oh my, what do we have here?” He whispers in excitement as he circles around me while I try not to keep my gaze off him… as if I could even if I tried to, his blue eyes remind me of a frozen lake in the dead of winter. But oddly you can see death in his gaze too, like the grim reaper standing on the other side of the door watching but hasn’t decided if he wants to take your soul or not yet.
His eyes are a mixture of blues from hot to cold, clashing together and they keep flickering to my knife then back to my face. I watch his lips spread into a slow smile as he steps closer, coming into the light of the hallway. I’m finally understanding what the lips of an angel mean. Wide, sculpted lips keep spreading across his face until a dimple appears in his right cheek and my gaze keeps going back to his lip rings that he keeps flicking with his tongue. This guy has a square face of sharp angles, giving him a beauty that almost makes it hard to look at him. Bright, blonde hair that is a mess like he runs his hand through it a lot and it’s straightened so that the strands end at his perfectly defined jawline. He may look like he just stepped out of heaven, but he fell instead because no way would an angel have a smile that sinister like he plans to do very bad things… to me. He looks like he’s around my age, seventeen or eighteen but everything about him screams all man from his height to the muscles straining against his black t-shirt. He gazes down at me like I’m a shiny new toy he can’t wait to get his big hands on.
“Don’t come any clos-closer! I don’t care that you have the face of an angel, I’ll gut you if I have to.” My voice comes out high pitched, shaken to my core because I don’t think I’ve seen anyone nearly as beautiful as him.
“Oh, baby, gut me.” He groans out like he just came in his pants, biting his pierced lip as he looks me up and down. “Since you showed me yours, it’s only fair I show you mine. If only so you know the name you'll be screaming later. It’s Tey, kitten.” He winks, chuckling like he’s hiding a million seductive secrets that would turn a nun into the flesh of guilty pleasures.
Kitten?Why does that have my lips twitching, this guy is seriously crazy dangerous but damn if that little playful side doesn’t lower my guard a little.
Must. Not. Get. Distracted.
Suddenly he bends down, making my eyes widen farther, he’s standing so close and his face is right at eye level with my boobs that are practically in his face as he stares up at me before he grabs something from his black boots. A long, curved knife appears in his right hand and he brings it up to his face with the blade reflecting the light.
Does he seriously carry that in his boot? He holds my gaze as his pierced tongue flicks along the sharp end of the blade in a worshipping way that has my confused body responding, my lower lips become slick, and my panties are soaked within seconds.
What is happening to me? Why aren’t I afraid like I’ve always been instead of being fascinated, turned on to the point I have to keep squeezing my thighs together? He has an edge to him that makes him dangerous but his eyes sparkle with mischief and under that, I see the hard glint you only get from living a hard life. It’s in my own eyes every time I look in the mirror.
Logan
Music thumps through my veins with the thick cloud of smoke in the air that comes from Tey as he slumps into the couch, exhaling the stench of weed through his mouth without a care in the world. My arms clench the cushions on either side of me as I blow out a frustrated, bored breath. God, same thing, different day on an endless loop.
I. Am. Bored.
“You like that, baby?” Paris's annoying voice croons from between my legs and I roll my head down lazily until I’m staring at her kneeling position as her mouth moves up and down my dick in a sloppy mess.
Is it too much to ask for my cock to be treasured like a vanilla ice cream cone that you keep licking until you're down to the cone instead of this race she’s doing in the wannabe porn Olympics? Tey chuckles next to me in amusement at my expense before reaching over and threading his black painted nails through her hair, holding the back of her head, and shoving down until she’s choking on my dick. That’s better but still missing something. The fucker holds her down until I actually feel a spark and releases her just as I start to feel a tingle in my spine. I watch tears leak from her eyes at being choked by my cock. She comes up gasping, coughing, and flicks her eyes to Tey with a wary look even though she smiles wobbly. She has a right to be nervous, she’s just a body to be used and yet keeps coming back for more. It might be time to cut her loose before she thinks I’m going to keep her. Paris follows me around like a lost puppy, hoping to sink and hook me just because both of our parents come from money. I’ve fucked other girls behind her back, and plenty in front of her at parties to prove my point. She means nothing to me. Guess the dollar signs keep people around. It’s a turnoff, the smell of desperation and having the same thing more than once makes me shiver because fuck that. I’m meant to taste all the flavors, not settle for one.
“You almost done there, buddy? We gotta take care of that thing. Paris, are you going to leave my boy hanging, or can you open your mouth wide to get the job done?” Tey questions lazily gesturing between us with his hand that holds a joint, bobbing his head to the music and looking relaxed from the weed in his slouched position.
Sitting in the VIP section of Toxic, one of the hottest spots in LA has its benefits, it drowns out the voices and allows us to talk business without straining to be heard over the loud music. Too fucking bad this bitch won’t take the hint to leave even after telling her point blank to get the fuck out. Always on her knees even in front of my friends, she doesn’t care as long as she thinks I’ll put a ring on her finger one day. Like I said, desperation comes off her in waves. She only proves me right when she unzips my pants, and now I’m soft instead of being hard to the point it’s almost painful.
“Poor Logan, just isn’t enough anymore, is it? We need something new to toy with, maybe a new pet.” Tey chuckles as he sits up, taking one more exhale before crushing the joint under his boot and blowing the smoke in Paris’ face.
She coughs, looking away from him, and starts to reach for my dick again with a determined glint in her brown eyes. “Want to come on my tits instead, baby? I know you like that, I won’t even clean up after so everyone knows I’m yours.” She pleads up at me but I have my pants zipped up in seconds and my gun pressing against her temple. I’m a sick bastard who gets off on fear and it stinks coming out of her pores.
“Get the fuck out, Paris. You aren’t mine and never will be. I don’t settle for one girl. Leave before I decide to put a bullet through your skull.” My tone comes out bored but I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger with her brain matter painting the walls.
You get raised by a monster, you become the monster, and that’s exactly what I am.
“Oh no! Run, little deer, run!” Tey hollers through his laughter as she scrambles away on shaking legs like a fawn and finally fucking leaves to blend in with the rest of the writhing bodies on the dance floor.
“This shit is getting so old. Let’s get the fuck out of here, go deal with that little fucking weasel and pick up the merch. My dad’s going to blow a gasket if we don’t stop at the precinct and get the drugs out of there before the FBI comes sniffing around.” I unbutton the top of my white button down shirt with a growl of frustration, hating how restricted I feel in my tailored dress pants and classic shoes that any gentlemen should have in their closet… too bad the outfit doesn’t fit who I am.
Be classy as fuck, show some dominance that matches the suit as you beat a man to death, never spill a drop of blood on your iron pressed shirt.
Tey rubs his hands together in glee next to me, winking as we pass two girls making out in the middle of the hallway trying to catch our attention.
“My brother from another mother, do you think I can check out the supplies before handing it over to dear old daddy dearest?” He smiles jokingly but under that, I can hear his need.
