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He leaned in closer, close enough to smell the nicotine and beer on her breath. "You ever been kissed darlin'?"
She sucked in a sharp breath. "No," She breathed.
Good. So f.u.c.king good.
He turned his head and rubbed his cheek up against hers, inhaling her strawberry scented hair.
"You wanna be kissed?" He whispered in her ear.
He licked the skin just behind her ear and she shivered. He sucked on her skin, bit down lightly and rolled it between his teeth.
She was breathing hard, her pulse in her neck fluttering wildly against his mouth. He started sucking with vigor and her legs fell open. He took advantage and shoved himself between them.
He spread kisses across her neck and under her chin, up to her cheek, kissing a line to her mouth. His lips met hers. She trembled.
"One more time babe," He said low and raspy. "You wanna be kissed?"
"Yes," She whimpered.
He was instantly on his feet, yanking her up with him. Grabbing her waist, he hefted her up and pinned her against the wall. "Legs babe," He rasped. She wrapped her legs around his waist, he jammed his erection between her thighs and shoved his tongue inside her willing mouth.
He'd lost his mind. None of this should be happening.
But there it was.
...the road to h.e.l.l is paved with good intentions and he'd just bought himself a one way ticket.
I had never been kissed before and had no idea what to do so I didn't do anything at all Deuce's hand tangled in my hair while his other hand cupped my jaw and squeezed my cheeks, causing my mouth to open. His tongue plunged inside, slid along mine and began exploring my mouth. No, exploring isn't the right word. He laid siege to my mouth, he plundered and pillaged until I had no reservations, no choice but to kiss him and so I kissed him back with all the fervor and pa.s.sion a sixteen year old who has never been kissed has when kissing the man of her dreams.
Which was a lot.
I have no idea how long we kissed, you tend to lose track of time when you're young and enthralled. But like all things s.e.xual in nature soon kissing was no longer enough.
I tried desperately to get closer. Burning hot, feeling ready to explode, I tore his hand from my hair and shoved it on my breast, whimpering needy little noises into his mouth. I needed more, so much more. I wanted his hands on me, touching me, I wanted skin against bare skin.
Shifted me in his arms, he lifted me higher and slid his hand down the back of my pants. One hand was squeezing my backside as the other slipped under my shirt and did the same to my breast and I was panting and he was cursing and it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to me. If he would have asked me to, I would have jumped on the back of his bike and rode to the ends of the earth with him.
"Deuce," I cried softly. "Oh my G.o.d, Deuce." His hips were between my thighs and he was grinding his body into mine. The friction of our jeans and the feel of his hands on me and his tongue in my mouth; something was happening, something that felt right and wrong and too much and not enough. Something I wanted more than my next breath.
He shifted me again and jammed his hand down the front of my jeans.
"Shhh," He growled into my mouth. "I got you, I f.u.c.kin' got you. Just let it go baby girl, just f.u.c.kin' let go."
His fingers slipped inside of me and my body locked up tight. My s.e.x contracted and exploded, pulsing through the wonderful sensations.
He bent his head, pressing his forehead against mine.
"Wish I coulda felt that on my c.o.c.k."
Oh G.o.d.
He pulled his hand from my pants only to slide it back up my shirt and resume playing with my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His hand moved from one to the other and his fingers snagged on my necklace. Cupping the medallion in his palm, he looked up.
"Baby," He breathed. "What the f.u.c.k."
"You gave it to me," I said lamely. I left out the part where I loved it, never took it off and sometimes would hold it in my hand and stare at it for hours.
"Yeah," He whispered. He began thumbing my nipple, pinching and kneading the flesh around it. His groin pressed harder into mine. He started breathing faster. I started breathing faster.
"Kiss me," I said breathlessly needing his mouth. "Please..."
Gently, he sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, pulling and lightly licking and my head fell back against the wall. His mouth again found my neck and my body lit up like a firecracker. I reached between us, reached for him; cupped him. Groaning, he pushed himself into my hand. The world ceased to exist. It was only Deuce and me and this beautiful, perfect moment.
It ended abruptly.
"f.u.c.k," He muttered, running his hands through his hair, backing away from me. "f.u.c.k, I f.u.c.ked up."
I took a step towards him, reaching out, wanting him back but he stumbled backwards putting more distance between us. I dropped my hand.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, not feeling at all sorry.
He shook his head. "No darlin', you didn't do anything wrong. It's all on me cuz I knew better and I did it anyway."
We stared at one another. He still wanted me, I could tell by his eyes. Frankie looked at me like that, like he wanted to eat me alive.
"I'm married," He said quietly.
I knew that. My father kept tabs on everyone he considered even a mild threat to him and the people he considered a major threat, people like Deuce, he had extensive amounts of information on.
"I know that," I said just as quietly.
"And you're sixteen...and I'm thirty four."
I knew that too.
"f.u.c.k," He muttered, running his hands through his hair. "f.u.c.k!"
He stared at me a moment longer, his indecision plain as day.
Next thing I knew the door to the stairwell was slamming behind him and I was alone. I sat back down and lit up another cigarette. And grinned.
Deuce got the f.u.c.k away from Eva as fast as he could, took the stairs two at a time and burst out onto the sidewalk and slumped against the clubhouse, breathing heavily. He'd f.u.c.ked up. He'd f.u.c.ked up big time. He was so f.u.c.king far beyond disgusted with himself but his c.o.c.k was hard as a rock f.u.c.king aching for sixteen-year-old p.u.s.s.y. Christ. Yeah. He was just like his old man. Rock f.u.c.king bottom.
He couldn't even blame his f.u.c.ked up marriage since he'd been solving that problem with club wh.o.r.es. This was different, so f.u.c.king different and so f.u.c.king confusing. He hadn't wanted a sixteen year old girl since he was sixteen, maybe eighteen, but he wanted Eva, and now that he'd gotten a taste he wanted her something fierce.
Girl had been about to give it up to him, too. And not because he'd been coercing her into it but because she straight up wanted him. She didn't have the first clue how to kiss but instead of being timid like the teenagers he remembered from when he was a teenager, she'd thrown everything she had into it and when she came on his hand, f.u.c.k, but that was beautiful.
G.o.d dammit! What the f.u.c.k! How could he have lost control so completely? He was all about control. How could a sixteen year old have f.u.c.ked him up?
"Holy f.u.c.k," He muttered, scrubbing his palms over his eyes. "Holy f.u.c.kin' f.u.c.k I f.u.c.ked up."
"Yeah you did."
His hands fell to his side. Preacher stood a few feet away. Alone.
Not good. No witnesses to be seduced into ratting Preacher out if his body was ever found.
"Got cameras all over the club," He informed him. "Even in the stairwells."
He nodded. If he'd been thinking clearly he would have known that and gotten the f.u.c.k out. He had cameras all over his club too. Security in this business was f.u.c.king necessary.
"You ready?" Preacher asked, pulling his piece. He watched him screw the silencer on.
Was he ready to die? No.
Did he deserve to die? Yeah. For a long time now.
Was he just going to turn tail and let Preacher kill him? f.u.c.k no.
"Alleyway, Deuce. Now." Preacher pointed with his gun.
He faked a turn and went for his own piece. He wasn't fast enough and Preacher's first bullet took out his right leg. He stumbled backwards and fell on his side in a pile of garbage.
Preacher's boots pounded the concrete and he braced himself for the killing blow. f.u.c.king fitting that he was going to die in a f.u.c.king pile of garbage. His old man had always said he was garbage. He sure as f.u.c.k felt like garbage.
His body jerked as pain exploded in his shoulder.
"f.u.c.k," He groaned. He hated getting shot. s.h.i.t f.u.c.king hurt.
"I'll call your boys to come collect you," Preacher said, surprising him.
"Unfortunately, I need you alive. Our boys are in too deep together, got too much ridin' on s.h.i.t you got a hand in. That said, you come anywhere near my girl again, first hit's gonna be in that sick d.i.c.k of yours, second in your brain. Second, you even try for retaliation I will gut every last boy in your Queens chapter."
"Understood," He croaked. Since he liked both his d.i.c.k and his brain just the way they were and none of his boys deserved to go to ground for his f.u.c.king sins, he was never going to go near Eva Fox again.
But fate was one mean b.i.t.c.h.
And two years later she slapped him in the face.
CHAPTER FOUR:.
I loved dancing. I loved Club Red. And I loved my best friend Kami.
She was loaded, I was loaded. She was spoiled, I was spoiled. She was bored out of her mind and I was being suffocated to death.
Being the spoiled, bored, suffocated girls we were, with the help of another bored and spoiled rich kid, we procured fake I.D.s and were able to escape to our happy place every Sat.u.r.day night. Club Red.
Best part, Frankie had no idea where I was.
We were able to accomplish this with the help of Kami's s.e.xy chauffeur, Jacob, who Kami had been giving it up to since she'd been thirteen and Jacob eighteen. I'm fairly certain Jacob was head over heels in love with her but he'd gave up trying for anything more than s.e.x years ago.
Kami, being as starved for attention as she was, had convinced herself sleeping with a lot of different men was a good way to go about getting what she was lacking at home. It never worked but she never stopped trying Anyway, this is how my Sat.u.r.day's went. Frankie would drop me off at Kami's penthouse. If Kami's parents were home, we'd get prettied up, wait until they went to bed and then sneak down the back stairwell. Jacob would meet us in Kami's underground parking garage, drive us out the back exit that was only used by the penthouse occupants, deftly evading the tails Frankie put on me, and off we went.
Freedom.
Deuce hated New York City something fierce. Always had and always would.
Even more then he hated New York City was the New Yorkers that resided in it. Even more then he hated New Yorkers was New York City nightclubs filled with New Yorkers.
Two of his boys had rode up with him on business. They wanted a party and some p.u.s.s.y and since he sorta wanted to pick up some p.u.s.s.y for himself, he tagged along. He wished he hadn't.
He was standing against a wall in a packed nightclub with red satin hanging all over the place and red f.u.c.king dis...o...b..a.l.l.s twirling on the ceiling while surrounded by wall to wall drunk f.u.c.kwads grinding against each other to what he supposed was music but sounded a lot like television static with a c.r.a.ppy beat.
He was a simple man. He liked kegs, country music and down home p.u.s.s.y. He didn't see the need to dress up the fact that he was getting drunk and laid. It was all the same in the end. Sloppy kissing, skin slapping and a nasty hangover. Why the f.u.c.k put a decorative umbrella on it?
His boys had ditched him about an hour ago in favor of some s.l.u.tty club b.i.t.c.hes. He'd seen c.o.x disappear with two scantily clad Latinos and Mick had gone off dancing with a woman he was pretty sure was packing a c.o.c.k under her seriously short skirt. He was so f.u.c.king miserable he had momentarily considered taking pictures of them with their wh.o.r.es and sending them to their wives as payback for making him endure this s.h.i.t.
"Hey," A female voice slurred. He rolled his head left. Christ. f.u.c.king skinny b.i.t.c.hes everywhere in this city. No t.i.ts. No a.s.s. All of them wearing skin tight clothes that emphasized the fact that they had no t.i.ts and no a.s.s. This particular b.i.t.c.h, tall, skinny, and bleached blonde, was so f.u.c.king skinny her breastbone was on display through her skin. The napkin she was fronting as a dress was practically see-through and he could see she wasn't wearing any underwear.
"f.u.c.k off," He said.
Her eyes went wide. "What?"
"You deaf?" He asked. "I said, f.u.c.k off."
Her mouth fell open. "What?" She whispered.
Christ.
"b.i.t.c.h, I don't wanna f.u.c.k you so I ain't gonna buy you drinks and tell you how f.u.c.kin' hot you are hopin' you're gonna spread those bony a.s.s legs for me, cuz one, you're not hot, you might be someday if you start eatin' but as it is right now, you're not. And two, I don't wanna f.u.c.k you so I'm givin' it to you straight. f.u.c.k off."
She blinked. Then she leaned forward and placed a bony hand on his chest. And smiled. He stared down at her hand debating on whether or not he should break her fingers.
"Wherever you want it, however you want it," She breathed. "Right here, in the bathroom, behind the club. Where. Ever. You. Want. It."
His eyebrows shot up. She had either major self-esteem problems or some serious daddy issues or maybe she was just plain f.u.c.king crazy.