Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) (69 page)

BOOK: Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1)
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Carlise, Rap’s ol’ lady, she didn’t seem to think it was a good look for me. Somehow, we didn’t hear her come in.

She was stood in the corner with her arms folded, one toe tapping fast. Her face was a storm warning, category nine. Turns out there was something that Rap was afraid of. She collected a pool cue as she ran out after the thus of his boots.

When they were gone I stole a couple of marine-sized measures of hooch. I dressed as quickly as I could. I couldn’t do too much for my overall appearance, the lure of the far door beckoned too urgently.

Not urgently enough, apparently. I heard the clack of armageddon from her heels behind me. I turned and hurled the heavy whiskey glass straight at her as hard as I could. I ran towards her to follow the glass.

She dodged the glass easily but she was off balance. I stepped in and yanked the pool cue from her, and I slung it away behind my back. I was close and my voice was a notch above stun. I told her, “Sister, if you’ve got a beef, take it up with your old man, don’t bring it to me.”

My breasts pressed against Carlise’s and my nose was a fraction of an inch from hers. Hard and fast I backed her against the wall. I pressed her so her back was against a sharp beam.

Her dark eyes burned into mine and her breath seared hot on my throat, I said, “Your old man’s got a fat, hard, all-weather cock,” I looked right in her eye, “and I like that kind of a cock. A lot of women do.” Carlise was a good three inches shorter than me, and ten pounds lighter.

If she had room to reach out and grab something, a bottle, anything, she would swing it at me, but as for using her hands and arms to actually fight? I didn’t think she’d be up to it. To be safe I blocked her tight against the wall.

I held eye contact hard as I told her, “If you want to keep Rap’s cock to yourself, Carlise, there are two things you’ve got to do. You need to keep that fat, bent pump cleaned out and dry. Slam, squeeze and suck every last drop out of it three times a day at least. Morning, noon and night.”

I narrowed my eyes but I did not blink. I wanted this woman to know that I would be ready to follow through. I said, “And after that, you need your eyes on him every second of the rest of the time.”

I pushed my face closer to hers. “You want him to yourself? You’ll need to use him all up, Carlise. Because mine’s not the only cylinder his piston’s made power strokes in.”

I backed off just a fraction, hoping I had done enough, and I said, more quietly, “Your problem isn’t with me, Carlise, it’s with him.”

Which was a lie, obviously.

I gave her a hard look to face her down, loomed closer and larger over her before I turned away. I hadn’t done enough. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. She yelled, “You BITCH!” as she slapped her open hand at the side of my face.

I spun and I nearly threw a fist in her eye, but I pulled it and gave her a wide, stinging slap across the face instead. She reeled, but her hand clawed at my blouse. She made a nasty, noisy rip down the front.

I slapped her again and I put my knee up to her stomach. I grabbed her denim shirt as she went down and I slapped her face once more. She fell to the floor and I followed her down, grabbed her hair and pulled her face up to mine. Her eyes were wide and her teeth were bared.

Her hands clawed at me, nails going for my face. I let go her head as I slapped her claws aside and her head fell back, but her knees came up into my chest, and her little feet were kicking.

I gave her another slap, hard this time. Her head snapped to the side and she must have been dazed from that, so I gave her one more the other way. I grabbed the front of her shirt, pulled her up to my face once more and I held up the other hand again, but she’d had enough.

I shoved her back to the rug and left her on her elbows with her eyes blazing, and I got out of there.

Hunched on the cream leather couch, Darlene looked out at the bright sunshine through the patio doors, her eyes lost and empty. She dragged a long slow toke on the spliff, took it in deep and held it long before she passed it back to me.

She leaned forward on my couch and looked at me as she let out the smoke, mascara and lipstick sprawled all over her face. “How do you do it, Tania? How do you get all of the guys sniffing and panting after you?”

There was an edge in her voice. I knew she couldn’t care less about all of the guys. She cared about Stokey. Her old man. Darlene wanted to know how it was that I’d got his tongue slipped in my hot groove.

Stokey and Darlene were solid. As solid as any biker and his ol’ lady. More than any other in this motorcycle club. But I’d had him on the floor. And against a wall. And over a big desk.

And Darlene found out.

Darlene’s green eyes glowed from under the waves of her thick, nut-brown hair. Her soft cream shirt was open to her breastbone, and the creamy tops of her full breasts swelled in her push-up.

She had fine, firm thighs and well-turned calves, sheathed in gunmetal nylons. A short black leather skirt made the most of her legs as she crossed them. Her glistening red cupid’s bow pout parted.

“You want to know how I do it, Darlene? Really?” She looked at me and her eyes smoldered from under her long lashes. I thought, You’re ready.

I stood slowly, stood with my feet a ways apart in front of her, close to the couch so that she was unbalanced backwards, looking up at me. Looking up over my hips and past my breasts.

The sun streamed through the patio doors. Evening was beautiful this time of year, and Darlene’s face glowed.

I said, “Come here, Darlene.” The only way she could get up was with her feet in between mine. Yeah. She stood slowly and her knees were almost in my skirt. We were so close we were almost touching. Darlene was gorgeous. Round and firm like a bud. Like a ripe, juicy fruit.

Her scent was fresh and heady. Not like mine. Mine is dark and strong. As Darlene stood up between my legs, as she rose from the couch, as her face passed by the tight bulge of my leather skirt, she must have got my scent.

Her eyelids drooped as she stood and looked into my eyes. Her tongue moistened her lips, then they pursed and rolled over each other. She was ready.

I asked her, “Shall I show you, Darlene? Shall I show you how I do it?”

She wet her lips again. Her voice shook and sounded tiny. “Yes,” she said, “Show me.”

My pelvis tilted at her

“You know what it is, Darlene? Men are all boys at heart, and boys like to play. They like to play rough. They like to play with girls who like to play rough.” I moved even closer. Darlene was unsteady. But attentive.

I went on, “We both know that most girls want a man who plays rough, we’re but not all of us ready to admit it.” I looked in her eye, “Not in front of the boys, you know?” I was getting really hot. I guessed she was, too.

“What the boys really want, Darlene,” I stepped my leg between hers. I could feel her heat on the front of my thigh. “They want a girl who they know isn’t going to…” I touched my thigh against her, “break, Darlene.”

“They love a girl who’s fragile so they can protect her, but they want to protect her so they can keep her for themselves.” Her eyes were blazing now, searching into mine, “And when they have that girl, when they have her alone, they want to play rough,” her pelvis was pressing back now, against my thigh, “and they want her to be tough enough to fight back.”

Our scents were mingling in the heat and I could see that Darlene was aware of it, too.

I said, “Want a taste?”

Only the sound of her breath said, “Yes, Tania.”

I laid my hand on the soft skin on the top of her breast as I leaned forward, close enough to lick her lips. To push them apart with the tip of my tongue. To touch inside them as I breathed into her.

I took her breath into me. Her lips trembled as she craned her neck up, towards me. I pulled back a fraction, to make her come farther.

Her lips brushed mine and as I felt her soft round breasts pushing upwards against mine a bolt of excitement shocked me from my core and down. Darlene’s lips fastened on mine and her hips pressed and moved against my thigh.

I pressed on her breast and she responded. I reached into her skirt and up to her hot, wet panties. She moaned as I slipped two fingers inside and pulled them out wet. I brought my fingertips up to my tongue. Slipped it in between my lips. Darlene leaned up to my mouth again.

Her tongue and mine lapped at my fingers. Darlene moaned as my hand pressed hard on her soft breast. I felt her nipple harden.

Darlene’s hand was on my thigh. Sliding up. Pushing my skirt out of the way. Running up to my thong.

I pushed her down onto the soft leather couch. Made big, soft, wet kisses on the trembling, creamy flesh on top of her breasts. Then inside her thighs. Then higher. Then pushed my tongue past the elastic, into her already wet panties.

My tongue found the base of her little throbbing clit. Pressed and flicked. And pressed and flicked. Her hands were flailing for my ass, my skirt, my breasts. I evaded her. I was going to drive her wild first.

Darlene’s thighs trembled as my tongue slipped between her hot petals, down to the back. Very slowly back up, and quickly down again. Each time a little further. A little deeper. Until her buttocks clenched.

Then she writhed as I pulled her panties aside, pressed my mouth up hard onto her. Gripped her hips in my hands. Pushed my tongue deep inside. Pulled her into my hot, wet mouth. Licked. Upwards. Hard.

She pressed and rocked on my mouth. Her thick juice flowed onto my tongue and I sucked it out as she squirmed to push her hot, soft lips into my mouth. Her thighs clamped tight around my head.

I realized that the light had changed and I looked up.

Standing at the patio door was 9Bar. Long, loose curly black hair swung over one eye. The other was transfixed on where my head was wrapped up in Darlene. I had forgotten that he was due over. Kind of.

Stocky and heavy, 9Bar’s movements were graceful, and I was fascinated by the contrast. Such a brutal looking man, but with such a tender sensuality. He turned the handle, stepped through the open glass door and closed it behind him in one fluid motion.

Darlene looked up in a stupor. She began to pull at her clothes, trying to get them into some kind of order. She didn’t make much of a job of it, and I could see from the way 9Bar’s tongue snaked over his lips that she wasn’t making herself any less exciting to him.

I told her to relax. “Have you seen 9Bar’s cock?” I asked her. She shook her head, confused and disoriented. She was climbing backwards into the couch, like she could maybe disappear into the cracks.

The strain on 9Bar’s jeans rose with every shy and timid move that Darlene made. I told her, “Don’t worry, Darlene. 9Bar got excited watching us. Maybe I’ll make him happy if I suck his cock.” I looked up at 9Bar. A big grin spread across his face.

I looked back at Darlene, “You can just stay there. You don’t mind if 9Bar looks at you while I suck him off, do you?” She was a biker chick, for fuck’s sake. Even if she was too shy and vulnerable, she wouldn’t admit it here. Her doe eyes wide, she shook her head slowly.

I gave Darlene the most thrilling angle of view possible as I took 9Bar’s long, thick snake through my wet lips, across my tongue and into my throat. His hips danced rhythmically as I suckled and gobbled on his hot, fleshy monster.

Darlene couldn’t help herself, her hands were up in her disheveled panties and flying. Her neck stretched and her teeth clamped on her lip. I kind of edged 9Bar and me around, closer to the couch.

When we were closer than Darlene’s arm’s length, she reached out and seized the base of his cock while she squeezed her breast and moaned. I made her wait, but after a while, I let her suck on 9Bar. She was thrumming hot when I reached into her wet panties.

I had to make a visit to the bathroom, but Darlene and 9Bar seemed to have enough to amuse themselves and each other for a moment. I gathered my cut-offs and my shirt on the way, because I’d just remembered Darlene’s ol’ man, Stokey was due over, too.

Sure enough, while I was cleaning myself up, I heard some shouts and crashing outside. Seemed like a good time for a walk.

Carnage MC sergeant-at-arms Colm Booker stretched back in the big chair behind the carved council table. He looked long and hard at me. He studied me all the way from my tall patent sandals, up my taught calf muscles and along my softly curved thighs.

He inspected where the thin strip of blue denim cut-off shorts were pulled in between the tops of my legs. I bit my lip as he looked over the peach-fuzzy flesh that slid into the top of my shorts, then up to my exposed belly button.

My breath heaved as he peered inside my open white shirt and up to where my black sheer bra peeked out. His head leaned to one side and his lips pursed as he watched the rise and fall of the dark circles of my aureolas and my aching, hardening nipples, just behind the sides of the shirt’s open front.

I breathed out with a sigh and then quickly in again while he watched the creamy tops of my breasts swell and flutter. His voice grated as he said, “See, I know that you know you ain’t allowed in here. That’s on account of you being a woman. But what I’m wondering is, how you got in here.”

“No, Colm,” I kept my voice low, too. In a low register and quiet, so he had to listen real hard, “I don’t think that’s what you’re wondering, how I got in here.”

I leaned back against the gun rack and hooked my thumbs in the jeans pockets of the little cut-offs. I felt myself getting wet down there.

I spread my fingers at the tops of my thighs. Pulled at the sides of my mound, stretching the denim tight over it. Rubbed it a little as I looked in his eye. When I left the apartment, I hadn’t had time to put any panties on.

“No, Colm, I think you’re wondering how you get in here.” I spread the denim as tight as I could.

“I think I can get in there easy enough.”

“You probably could have. Up until you said that.”

He stood slowly and came towards me. “I don’t mind if a woman likes to put up a fight.”

I straightened, “You don’t mind if she loses, you mean.”

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