Hard Core (Hard As Nails Book 3) (13 page)

In comparison to her flagrantly sexual touch just seconds ago, mine is deliberately tender. Loving even. And I make sure those emotions are reflected in my eyes.

She’s definitely thrown. Thrown enough that she looks away, takes several steps back, and turns back to the bar to grab the full tray of drinks. When she turns around, she avoids my gaze. Her gait isn’t quite steady as she heads to deliver her drinks.

Since she’s not looking, I quickly rearrange myself in my jeans and glower at anyone who dares look me in the eye. Then I follow her.

Chapter Eighteen

Alyssa

When my shift is over, I barrel out the back door of the club and walk swiftly to my car, only to realize when I get to it that Axel is still shadowing me. Fine. I’m overcome by the urge to drive away and flip him off while I leave him in the dust, and I don’t think I’ll be able to resist.

Only when I get behind the wheel, Axel continues his maddening behavior by climbing into the passenger seat. “What the hell are you doing? Get out!”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Nope. We need to talk.”

He has been working me up all night. It’s not who I am, or who I was before I met him, but there’s something about him that draws me to his cock. There’s a truckload of tension—sexual and otherwise between us—and I’m going to lay that burden at his feet. I open my mouth to scream at him, to tell him to leave me alone for good, but then I see something flash in his eyes.

It’s the oddest combination of resolve and resignation. Like even as he’s determined to keep pushing at me, part of him knows I’ll never let him in. And he’s prepared to accept it and walk away from me.

The idea of him walking away frightens me more than I ever thought possible.

Suddenly, all the anger I was about to unleash on him morphs into a desperate yearning for this man who seems so damn determined to worm his way into my heart.

I’m constantly stressed out, and he steals away all the stress from me one fuck at a time. He’s the medicine I so desperately need and crave. I don’t want to lose him. I just can’t give him all of me, doesn’t he understand that?

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any man,” I say suddenly, and I can tell by his widened eyes I’ve shocked him.

“And I’ve never wanted a woman more than you,” he admits.

I swallow hard. “Then why can’t that be enough? Why can’t you be happy with what I have to give, even if it is only sex?”

He opens his mouth to respond, and I know he’s going to say something about his feelings for me, and I’m filled with the knowledge that I’m about to cave. In desperation, I reach across the mere inches of distance between us and pop the top button of his jeans with an agile flick of my finger.

“Alyssa,” he begins.

“No! You’ve been teasing me all night. Now I’m going to tease you. I want to fuck you with my mouth.”

He stills and hearing those words coming from my mouth has rendered him speechless. Finally, I think. Finally, I feel a modicum of power shifting back in my direction.

“What are you going to do, Axe?” I question as I make quick work of his zipper and reach for his cock from beneath tight fitting, black boxer briefs. “Are you really going to stop me from sucking your cock?”

I pull his cock free from thin cotton. It’s erect and hard, with precum leaking from the tip. He’s been wanting this for a while, and I can’t believe he’s been putting off his own pleasure just because he wants to take me on a date. I stroke the entirety of his shaft in slow motion, watching him carefully as he gasps with each stroke. “You want my mouth on it?” I tilt my head sideways and lap my tongue against the underside of his cock. “You want to come in my throat?”

“Please,” he groans, knowing it’s his turn to beg. But he’s not pleading for me to go down on him, he’s pleading for me to stop. Filled with the heady sensations of lust and power, I say, “Tell you what. I want to suck your cock. If you let me, and you manage to stop me before I make you explode, I’ll go on that damn date with you. Deal?”

I don’t wait for his answer. Before he can say a word, I pass my thumb over the slit of his dick, and watch as his face contorts, and his throat tenses. “You’ve been a bad boy, Axel,” I coo and chuckle to myself, because I can’t believe myself. I was never
this
girl. Sex was always simple for me, but one thing’s remained the same—I don’t get attached. Still, I’ve always been content to lie on my back while the man does all the work. In my usual sexual experiences, I’d never talk dirty. It’s not me.

Except it is. At least when I’m with him. He awakens something deep within me, pulling my dormant sexuality to the surface. It’s empowering. It’s riveting. It’s beyond dangerous, but I can’t bring myself to care or to stop myself.

He attempts to turn his head away, to look out the window to regain his composure. I don’t let him. I reach for his chin and pivot his head so he’s looking right at me, and then right into my eyes as I take his cock into my mouth.

His flesh is soft, but his cock is hard. It’s the weirdest thing in the world, but the dichotomy makes it more arousing. One hand falls to the top of my head, and then his fingers are combing through my hair. I can no longer see him, but the moans being thrown from his throat tell me all I need to know—I’m winning this game of tug of war.

I quicken my pace, bobbing up and down on his throbbing cock while one hand twists around his shaft. When I need to take a break, to rest my jaw, I remove my mouth from his member and look up to him. I continue to maneuver my hand around his shaft, circling my thumb around his slit each time I reach the top of his cock. All the while I make him watch me.

It’s erotic as hell, and I’m hit with the urge for him to fuck me. But I know he won’t. Not just yet. I give him an affirmative nod and a slight nibble of my teeth against my own lip before lowering myself back to him.

“Fuck,” he cries softly as I engulf his dick completely in my mouth once more. But soon he’s had enough. He grunts, almost like he’s in pain. His breath is dry and heavy, like he needs a glass of water. He reaches for me and pushes me into a seated position and away from his cock.

“No more,” he commands, looking at me with some sort of contempt I can’t quite read. “Not until I get my date.”

“You’re not being serious,” I smile playfully and reach to tangle my fingers around his aching cock. Once I’ve got a firm hold on him, his body bucks into my touch, but a strong hand grips my wrist, preventing me from jerking him off.

“I’m being very serious,” he growls. “This isn’t easy for me, to stop a beautiful girl like you from going down on me. You think I don’t want this?”

“Then what’s the problem?” I cut him off and squeeze his shaft.

He forces his eyes shut, almost wincing from pain as if I’m hurting him. “I want to come down your warm throat,” his lips tremble, “but not until you give me what I want.” He pauses, his eyes tangling with mine. “Not what I want,” he corrects himself. “What I need.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I question, my voice ragged and hoarse. “What is wrong with you?”

“I want a date,” he forces the words out and tightens his grip on my wrist. It’s growing harder and harder for him to hold me back, but he wants something more than my mouth at this precise moment. He wants a date. Ugh.

I can see, and feel, every ounce of his passion underneath my touch. It’s the biggest turn on in the world to see him struggle like this. To see a man built as strong as a tank lose all control to a girl like me. This isn’t how this scene is supposed to play out, but I never counted on wanting him this much. I wasn’t counting on wanting to taste him as he climaxes.

“Fine,” I huff. “You can take me on a date. But I want to finish.”

He hesitates and somehow manages to shake his head. “I said neither of us comes until you actually go out with me. Knowing you, you’ll agree to a date and weeks will go by before you admit you didn’t really mean it. I’m not going to make you come again until we actually go out.”

“Fine! I’m not asking you to make me come. But I want to finish you, Axel. Please?”

He stares at me, but doesn’t reject my offer.

“Let the fuck go of me,” I command, and he actually does.

As soon as I’m free, I begin stroking my hand up and down his shaft. And I watch him with feral eyes as he escalates toward an inevitable climax. Just when he’s about to blow, I lower my mouth around his cock.

His fingers dig into my scalp as he comes. His cock spasms in my mouth as he shoots his warm seed against the back of my throat.

* * *

Later that night, I’m alone in my bed. Axel followed me home on his bike, and I was hoping I could coax him to come inside with me, but even though he’d walked me to the door, he’d admitted it would be best if he didn’t spend the night because the temptation to have me would be too strong. I’d rolled my eyes and said good night, shutting the door with a frustrated slam behind me, but then I’d leaned back against it and I hadn’t been able to help myself.

I’d smiled.

I couldn’t deny that when Axel wanted something, he truly went all out. And I was finally beginning to believe he wanted a future with me and more importantly, that it was something we might actually be able to have.

But now, as I lie here in bed, I’m not quite sure. Despite Axel’s confusing presence in my life, Marley’s continuing absence and failure to call me back (Walt told me he heard she left town but I can’t quite believe she’d have left without telling me), and the fact I’m going to be taking the stage to strip soon, everything else is going fine. Better than fine. My dad’s treatments have been working. He feels good. His numbers are better. The doctors say if things continue this way, he might be able to go home next month.

That’s gold. That’s the treasure that had strengthened my resolve to strip over the last week, and it’s brought me a certain amount of peace that’s allowed me to sleep so well the past few nights. At least, that’s what I’d told myself.

But now, it’s been two hours since I’ve hit the light switch, and I’ve been tossing and turning. I’m tired from dance practice, and a long shift immediately after that. I’m exhausted after the song and dance with Axel in the car, but for some stupid reason, I can’t bring myself to fall asleep.

There’s a part of me that knows the reason I can’t close my eyes; it’s because he’s not here. The logical part of me, the part of me that’s always guided my choices and my actions says that’s bullshit. I’ve never needed a man before. I don’t need one now, and I certainly won’t need a man come tomorrow or any other point in the future.

But still, I miss his touch. Each night after we’d fucked each other’s brains out, he’d hold me tight as I drifted off to sleep. There were never strings attached, but I always felt safe and wanted on some level.

Now, all I feel is loneliness creeping into my being in the latest hours of the night. I feel this way now when he’s not with me, and that’s only after only knowing Axel for such a short time. What more if I actually go down that road to building a future with him?

Chapter Nineteen

Axel

It’s been three miserable nights, and three intolerable days since Alyssa finally agreed to go on a date with me. Finally, it’s going to happen, and I’m riding my bike to her place so we can take her car.

For the millionth time, I suggested she try going for a ride on my bike. Once again, she refused. I thought about pushing it, but as much as I want her on the back of my bike, want her to experience the thrill of riding something other than my cock, it wasn’t worth aggravating her to the point she’d drop our date. I’ve worked too hard for this—held back too many orgasms—to let it slip away from my cold, greedy fingers.

When I pick her up, I refuse to tell her where we’re going. I hate surprises, and everyone I know knows that. But I only hate them when they’re happening to me, not when I’m launching them onto others. She seems aggravated that I won’t tell her, grumbling about how controlling I am, but I find her grumbling cute.

Everything about her that isn’t sexy is cute.

She’s this perfect package wrapped in a perfect body. She’s just damn near perfection in any way I could ever count.

The surprise is spoiled when I turn onto Warner, a four-way street with towering buildings on either side. On this particular night, there’s a carnival in full swing, with the road blocked off on both ends.

She slumps backward in her seat and elicits an audible groan.

“What’s the matter?” I elbow her. “Don’t like carnivals?”

“Not particularly,” she sighs and turns to me with a forced smile. “I mean, I love them.”

“You don’t need to lie to me,” I say as I pull the car into an empty spot next to the curb of an off-street. I switch the ignition off and throw my arm behind the passenger headrest. “We can go somewhere else.”

“Nah.” She waves my concern off. “As long as there’s a beer garden, I’ll be good.”

“There’s nothing sexier than a girl who drinks beer.”

“It’s not my favorite.” Her lips fold into a grimace. “But something tells me I’m going to need it, and in a time like this, I can’t be too picky, can I?”