A Leap in the Dark (Assassins of Youth MC Book 2) (12 page)

He responded, “Yeah. What a bunch of horseshit. He threatened me he was going to ruin Deloy’s life, but I didn’t think he’d actually do it. He can say anything he fucking well pleases about me. I’ve built up this steel wall against criticism, but taking it out on Deloy? When the kid’s already suffered so much at their fucking hypocritical, twisted hands? Don’t worry, Oaklyn. We’re digging up dirt on that creeper. He’s got as many skeletons in his closet as John Wayne Gacy.”

“What about the guy who’s trying to classify your business as occult?” I asked.

Levon’s mouth was a thin line. “Yeah. I’m taking care of that dog killer tomorrow night. There’s a crab feed going on at the Elks Lodge. Assassins are all showing up to make their presence felt, to let those zombified pedos know there’s a new boss in town.”

“Oh, dear. Levon, I seriously don’t want you doing anything that might get you hurt or in trouble.”

He chuckled, but his face was still bitter. “No worries. What we’ve got planned is just a little taste of things to come if they don’t give me my fucking business license. And as a martial arts studio,
not
some fucking woo-woo herbal essence store.”

“Good. Not that I’m against taking a stand for yourself, of course. There was no reason in the world for anyone to write that slander about you and Deloy.”

“Agreed. Now.” Levon began wandering. A new, almost shy demeanor had come over him. His fingers toyed with one of the many cases and devices clipped to his belt. I noted a Taser, his phone, what was probably a knife, and of course the pistol stuck into his back waistband. Leaning against a desk, he tilted his head and asked, “Will you be my plus one to the crab feed?”

I tried to identify the feeling now spreading through my chest and lungs. I inhaled deeply, deciding it was a feeling of tingling, illicit excitement. He’d kissed me so hungrily under the deep cover of night, but to show up with me in public? I was starting to think we might
be
something. “A date?” I mused.

He nodded. “A date.”

“All right. Pick me up at my house?”

He chuckled at my lame joke. “Sure.”

I looked down to see what he withdrew from a snap-on pouch. It was some weird star-shaped metallic object. A weapon? My voice didn’t sound like myself when I stammered, “They’re going to invite you to join them, Levon.”

“Who? The Assassins? I know.” He played with the flat metal thing.

I licked my lips watching him, realizing all my capillaries were opening up, my pupils were dilating, my nipples were erecting. All classic signs of arousal. “You know? What are you going to do?”

He made as if to casually throw the thing. “Join. Listen, about this asshole boyfriend of yours.”

Why was he asking? Now I felt my innards go all soft and gooey, like a woman who was being fought over by two men. Except that Giovanni didn’t care, and wouldn’t fight for me. I said, “He’s not my boyfriend anymore. I broke up with him.”

Now, that was
definitely
delight flickering in those cornflower eyes. He even looked devilishly boyish with his haircut that looked done at home in front of a mirror. Still fingering the disk, he came toward me. His free hand was uplifted, already in the shape of my jaw, which he cupped in his palm. He always made me feel so small and feminine, so delicate and breakable. I inhaled deeply of his natural scent of fresh sweat—his pheromones.

“You know,” he said softly, “logically you and I don’t make much sense. I’ve been thinking about what you said the other night, logic versus emotion. I realized there’s lots of emotion in my framework of beliefs. Like, I loathe Ladell Pratt with the rage of a volcano. It’s based on the logic of what he’s done to me. But my logic is really a slave to my passions.”

“Yes,” I whispered. At that moment, I would’ve encouraged him in anything, really. But I did like where he was going with that. “Me being attracted to you doesn’t make much logical sense. Logically I should choose a doctor, someone in the medical field.”

He grinned adorably. “But you’ve got a hooker turned biker instead.”

“Who runs an occult arts shop.”

When he kissed me this time, I stood on my toes, the better to slide my hands around the back of his neck. I speared my fingers through his soft hair, reveling in massaging the damp sweat into his skull. His body was all hard and marble, not soft and doughy like Giovanni. Levon was arousing me in every sense of the word, his sweat in my nostrils going straight to my brain, to the hypothalamus flooding me with dopamine, with oxytocin.

But because I, too, wasn’t thinking logically, I allowed Levon to lift my short sweater from my torso. I even broke the kiss, staring like a star-struck teenager into his eyes, as he gently pulled it over my head, then my arms. He dropped it on the floor without batting an eye, and he said,

“The greatest freedom is obedience.”

I didn’t know how this applied to our situation, but it excited me nonetheless. I always felt embarrassed to have a man look at me shirtless. I felt like an underdeveloped gymnast, a freak with an adult head and a child’s body. For some reason, Levon didn’t make me feel that way. He traded places with me in a sort of dance, leaning me back with my butt against the desk’s edge. Skillfully he unhooked my tiny bra. Even the slightest brushing of his fingertips against my skin sent shivers straight to my pussy. He was so talented, so self-assured!

“You want me to be obedient.” I leaned back with my palms flat against the desk, trying to ignore the bra dangling from his finger. When that dropped, I was bared to him. If I was ashamed, I couldn’t show it. I had to lift my chin and give him a challenging look.

His eyes were hooded with craftiness. He finally brandished the star-shaped thing with a hole in the center. “Indeed I do. I want you to accept everything I do to you. Let the sensations roll over you like waves on an ocean.”

I giggled nervously. “My body is a cruise ship.”

“A party boat,” he agreed good-naturedly, then dipped at the knees to slurp a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh!” Did I really cry out that loudly? My stupid yelp echoed to the rafters of the nearly empty room when Levon nibbled away. His tongue squiggled wildly around my areola—I could feel him tasting the raised bumps on my tiny nubbin, sipping from my nipple.

I clutched his skull like I was set to give him a Vulcan mind-meld. My feet were off the floor, my boots kicking around aimlessly like a kid riding a toy horse. But what really blew the top of my skull off was when he pinched something tightly around my nipple. At first the pain shot through to the back of my eyeballs.

But after a few seconds of shallow, fast panting, I worked through the pain. I began to feel a direct channel from the pinched nipple to my uterus. The pinching was directly stimulating my sex organs from the inside out. When Levon poked another stiff nipple through another hard metal clamp, I looked down, expecting to see blood. Instead I saw he’d threaded my nips through the center holes of a couple of those Ninja throwing stars!

So
that
was what he’d been playing with! Did he normally keep that pouch on his belt, ready to use as primitive and barbaric nipple clamps? With a man as worldly and experienced as Levon, anything was possible.

I found this out in the worst way when Levon snaked his torso up mine. He squirmed so his chest rasped the metal stars, making me utter a series of high-pitched whines like a mewling puppy. The effect this had on my inner cunt was astronomic. My vaginal walls clutched at a nonexistent penis, like one of those meat-eating flowers that are so abominable in nature. He had his groin plastered to my pubic mound. He ever so adeptly swiveled his hips so his erection precisely massaged my pussy lips, kneading the bud of my clitoris inside, a pea in a pod.

I grabbed his shirtfront like a crazed woman. How could he be so cool and collected when I was about to lose my shit? “Do me, Levon! Do me right here on the desk!”

Oh, he was such a cool cucumber! “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Another shrug of his shoulders and the silver stars raked painful ecstasy into my womb. “You’d like me just to rip off your skirt and pound you right here? Well, I’m not going to give you what you want. I’m calling the shots, remember?”

“Yes, sir,” I breathed. I had to trust him. I had to trust this man I barely knew, a gigolo turned outlaw biker. Neither one of those occupations should’ve given me much faith in him, but at my core I felt calm. In control.

My world went black in the next second. I saw him shake out a bandanna from another pocket like a magician, and the next thing I knew, I was blindfolded.

“Ah,” I breathed, looking around, as though I might be able to see something. I felt his face with my fingertips. His upper lip had that sensuous indentation as though an angel had placed her finger there.

“My lamb,” he said softly. “You look so gorgeous all done up like this. Trussed like my little slave. Your safe word will be ‘takedown.’”

Of course I had to rebel. “Oh, yeah?” I ran my thumb across his shapely cheekbone. “Then why can I still do
this
? And
this
?” I slid my hand down and pinched his nipple, the pierced one. I smiled when I heard him gasp.

“Stop topping from the bottom,” he growled.

Now he really meant business. I suppose I shouldn’t have challenged him. But he found something that felt like plastic zip ties and soon my wrists were bound in front of me. I didn’t mind. It brought my tiny tits more prominently into view, I knew. I could use all the help I could get.

But then he abandoned me. For a few hopeless seconds, I didn’t know where he’d gone. Panic already set in, my breathing quickening, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on my forehead, my chest. “Levon!” I called, the fear evident in my voice.

“Down here, lambikins,” he called softly from somewhere near my crotch. Whipping off my skirt and panties, he left my boots on. I felt embarrassed, scared, and aroused beyond my wildest dreams—all at once. But I stayed perched on the desk like a bobble head with no hands to prop me up, my legs splayed for all to see.

In fact, although paper covered the front windows, no one had locked the door. Anyone could walk in at any moment, and I think that added to my indecent excitement. Would I know, though, being blindfolded? It was an erotic possibility.

When Levon bit the inside of my thigh, I twitched. Another bite, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow, and I practically
lurched
. My legs flipped up of their own accord, and I found them wrapped around his neck. The next exhalation of warm breath against my labia, and my torso slammed flat against the desk. A few hard metal items—more Chinese throwing stars?—dug into my back, but I didn’t care, because Levon was just barely licking the tip of my clitoris, and my hips were grinding like a stripper’s.

Where had this come from? When had this wantonness developed in me? Giovanni never put his face in my crotch. Levon was daring, bold, and above all talented. He knew just when to apply a particle more pressure, when to snake his tongue-tip around the swollen kernel of my clit, and when to back off, just letting the pressure of his panting bring blood to my pussy.

In other words, he was driving me insane with lust. And yeah, I screamed. Maybe not a blood-curdling, Roger Daltrey sort of scream, something more from a horror movie. It was hard to tell, with the shriek echoing above me, bouncing around the rafters of the tall ceiling. My hips were pumping into overdrive and the top of my head was about to blow off with frustration because he refused to set up a steady motion.

“Ah,” he breathed against my clit. “You’re such a lovely brat. Such a beautiful lamb.”

“
Aieeeee
,” I think I screamed. Then I must’ve brought my bound hands down on the crown of his skull. I felt more than heard a dull thud that was me smashing him in the head, but that didn’t stop me. “
Levon
! Stop teasing me!”

His voice was full of personal injury. “It’s called orgasm denial. It’s a thing, Oaklyn.”

“Yes, and you’re very good at it! But can you
hurry it up a bit
?”

I felt the whisper of his chuckle against my throbbing clit. “It’s working then.”

A few more swipes of his tongue nearly had me shooting to the ceiling like a terrified cat. I set up a shallow, rapid panting that soon had me seeing tiny red champagne bubbles inside the darkness of the blindfold. To compensate for the slow torturous flicking of his tongue, I shimmied my hips rapid-fire like. But he soon became savvy to this and bobbed his head this way and that, making agonizing swipes at my bulging clit. He’d get into a rhythm, I’d feel the surge of blood and endorphins filling my pelvis, then he’d stop cold. Bite my thigh or something.

I cried out, “
Levon! Do it! Do it or I’ll seriously bash you in the skull!”

That stopped him utterly. “I don’t take orders. I give them.”

“
Aieeee!
Then
order me
to come!”

That was apparently the stupidest thing I could have said. I felt the heat of his face, his shoulders vanish from between my thighs. I was left bound like a dog in heat, bulging and swollen and ready for all comers.

“No! No! No!” I shouted.

I tried to quiet myself so I could listen. I heard him walk away, his boots sounding hollow against the wooden floorboards. Amazingly, he was talking on the fucking phone.

“Maximus is a good choice. He’s probably the only one of us without a record. Yeah, what’s it called again? Let me write that down. No. No. No. Dust Bunny, listen to me. That fucker tried to
kill my dog
. Making him run to the can a few times is too good for him. I don’t want to ask Oaklyn for it and risk her new job. I’ve got her, ah, tied up at the moment. Let’s ask that other nurse, the old lady in the mother chapter down south. What? Hey, do you think I kiss and tell? Let me get back to you.”

I was so still I could hear the tone of his hangup.

He walked back to me. I felt him staring at me, assessing. My stomach heaved and trembled. The cold metal of the ninja stars against my ribcage rose and fell with my ragged breath. But I was as still as a photograph.