Three years ago…
The cool afternoon breeze flows in, calmly running over my skin. Sitting at the bar, I wait for one of the brothers to stomp down the hall. But the sounds never come and what I don’t expect to walk in is a petite brunette. Burning fire and sass light up her brown eyes. She spikes my interest, churning my gut in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Brightly, she looks around the room, seeking what she is craving. At this point, it’s not clear to me. Even though her intentions appear to be confident and relaxed, something is missing. Every move I catalog, her shoulders are drawn downward slightly as if the weight of the world hangs there. Smooth and steady is her go-to mask, when I would bet she wants to rip apart her reality. But that would show too much, reveal the passion that lies beneath the surface. This woman, although strong, doesn’t notice the baggage anymore. She hides behind her own self-imposed rules to protect herself. From what though? Probably a man, or men.
I drop my gaze to my bourbon before she catches me observing her. Introductions are made around the room until they reach me. She holds her hand out for me to shake. “Jazz. Nice to meet you.”
Slowly, and with the least amount of effort on my part, I slowly looked up. Instead of shaking her outreached hand, she dropped it with a huff. “Is that your real name?” Sarcasm drips from my words and mocks her bold, playful demeanor. I stand to my full height to tower over the tiny woman and take a swig of my bourbon before I react to her dilating pupils. Her eyes draw me in, and I cage her body with mine against the bar. The raw intensity and fire from her anger is beautiful. Her body coils and is ready to strike back, but she won’t, not in the way she really wants or needs. That would show the world what she holds close. Curiosity has my own interest captured. I need to poke at the woman until all her secrets are mine. The heat from our bodies mixes in with the tension of the standoff, electrifying the air. All the frustration of the world that I feel, I cast her way, a challenge I can’t help but be drawn into, to touch something I could ultimately destroy. Can she handle a man like me? Or will she run from a man who is closed off to the world, play it safe and find a partner who won’t challenge her? She likes to be in control, which will make it that much sweeter to make her unravel it all.
Jazz’s face scrunches and her hand presses against my chest, firmly halts my movement. “It’s Jazmin.” She practically growls the name at me. Behind her, Axl throws his arms up, knowing I’m hopeless. And I want it that way. He’s practically sawing off his neck at me in an attempt to get me to fall in line and be polite.
“How fucking cute,” I smirk at her. “Like the Disney princess, Jasmine.” I scrunch my nose back at her before my face falls, then take a step back. Her hand falls to her side before she makes a fist. Casually, I take another sip of my drink. Fucking women. I’m in a foul mood and I need a quick, hard fuck, something intense where I can work out the stress and settle my racing mind. This small woman would likely run off crying at the first crack of my hand across her ass and I can’t have that nonsense. I crave a strong woman who can keep up with me not only physically but also mentally. Can she play in the shadows of my mind and find her way out?
“Not a fucking princess, asshole, it’s Jaz-meen. Hispanic, dickhead.” She gives me her best sneer. “Let me guess,” she pauses and taps her chin. “That big, ugly bug on your neck would make you Spider. Original. Shitty ink. I could do better.” She spits her distaste for me and my tattoo while she turns on her heel and stomps off in the opposite direction.
Well, well, well, that was most definitely unexpected. I know who she is. Since Vegas and her crew of bitches popped up in our lives, I’ve done some investigating. I haven’t dug deep enough to know much about Jazz, just the family ties and what she does for a living. There was no reason to look further. I rub my chin and keep her in my view, barely in the corner of my eye while she speaks with the other guys, seeing if she drops me any more information. Or, by tomorrow, it’s not going to matter at all, and the less I know the better. Out of sight, out of mind.
“What the hell made you be a dick for?” Tank taunts me, “See something you like in the firecracker?” He nudges me and that irritates me further.
I pull myself away from his obnoxious antics. “I don’t need a reason to be a dick.” He’s always looking to get into other people’s shit.
His elbow lands in my ribs this time. “But you did see something you like. How sweet for you, Spider.” His stupid grin is wide and full and teasing. He wants more of a reaction, but I’ll deny him the satisfaction of it.
“Fuck. OFF.” Taking my drink, I scoot down the bar, away from that obnoxious motherfucker. Tank takes the hint, even though he’s still chuckling to himself. He does that shit just to bug me. Ignoring him, I turn my body and angle myself to watch the crowd.
The rest of the night I spend alone. Drink after drink, the bourbon flows and washes away some of the tension. In need of a piss, I slide off my stool and head to the bathroom. After my business is finished, I decide to get some sleep and take a quick step toward my room. A body is slammed into mine when I turn to leave the bathroom and all I see is the dark set of eyes from earlier.
A growl is released from my throat at the impact and I step forward, each thud of my feet forcing her to back up until her body hits the wall. Lowering my face to meet hers, I look for any weakness. Holding steady, I wait for a second. I want to cuss her out and tell her to watch where the fuck she is going, but the defiant look in her eyes pulls me back from doing so.
What happens next is a power move of pure lust. The challenge makes my cock twitch and my breaths become deep and hypnotic. Her scent wafts up to me, pulling me into her spell. There is no backing down or pulling back. Instead, I stalk my prey and take my time. My nose runs the length of hers until a small gasp escapes. My mouth consumes her air and excitement. I take her. My thumbs press against her jaw and my fingers curl around her face, forcing her to open for me.
When she submits to my demand, I groan, and my dick fully comes to life. Greedy bastard chose her, and I won't rest until he is buried in her heat. I need to make her mine. Just for the night. We both need it—I can feel it in the way she clings to me. Her body is soft and pliant but in control. As every thrust of our tongue searches for more, my hips grind against hers. Jazz’s fingers slide down past my belt loops and bury into the seam of my boxers, securing me to her.
Ripping my mouth away from hers, her breasts heave as she attempts to calm herself down. Jazzy’s small hands release their grip and one comes up to trace her lower lip where I sank my teeth into it. My head jerks to the side and demands, “Are you coming?” She nods and pushes off the wall. Leading the way, I take her to my room down the hall. Slamming the door shut behind us, I force the words through clenched teeth, “If you don’t want to come for me, ride my dick like I need, you need to get the fuck out now.”
Her breath stalls a moment and moves into me. Jazz never glances away as she rises to her tiptoes to reach my ear and rasps, “Give me what you need. I want it.”
My fingers dig into the meat of her ass and I hiss into her ear, “Take your clothes off.” This is a test. My hands loosen, then fall away as I move back. Waiting for her to do as instructed, I watch her every move. The rise and fall of her chest, the fire in her eyes, the steadiness of her hands—my mind calculates every shift to see if she complies. If she can’t, I will send her out. This is it.
Jazmin lifts her hands, pulling her shirt over her head, her dark hair cascading down. The moonlight shimmers off her olive skin and highlights her hair. Fascinated with her, I listen to the sound of the zipper on her pants. She kicks off her boots, then slowly rolls the pants down her legs and removes them, kicking them to the side. Quietly, she whispers into the darkness, “Do you want my underwear off too?”
The question is perfect. “No,” I answer gruffly. My eyes are greedy and soak in her black lace bra and panties. They look like art on her body, the lace beautifully framing her ass cheeks. My hand moves her long curly hair, draping it over one shoulder. “I’m not a soft man. If that scares you, you need to say so. I won't stop.”
My fingers feather down her spine and she shivers with goosebumps rising over her silky skin. Good. She wants it hard and dirty. The palms of my hands graze her sides, moving down her waist to the hem of her panties. Hooking my thumbs in, I tug them down and they pool at her feet. My hands follow the same path back up and around her stomach to her modest-sized tits, my thumbs lightly brushing over her pert nipples.
Jazmin’s head drops back against my shoulder. Finding the clasp between her tits, I pop open her bra. My thumbs and forefingers roll her hardened nipples. When she moans, I apply more pressure and her ass pushes against me. Her head falls away, exposing her neck. With patience, I suck and nip at her salty skin while one hand trails down to find her smooth waxed pussy.
Jazmin was made to ride dick—she submits to every touch and command of desire. I’m drunk on lust, bourbon, and her. Her curves are soft to the touch. My fingers dive into her soaked pussy and I pump in and out while I suck and nip at her neck and roll her nipples. I strum her pussy, playing with her like my puppet. She groans, not finding enough so I increase the pressure. Her breathing becomes ragged and I tug on a nipple. With quick, small circles over her clit, Jazz gasps. Her nails are digging into my arms as she shatters.
Waves of lust wash through me from her. I take it all and steal it for my own pleasure while my fingers glide in and out of her soaked cunt. Before she comes down completely from her high, I growl, “Kneel on my bed.”
Obediently, she gracefully kneels and presents her glistening pussy for me in the moonlight. After I remove my clothes, I stand before her at the foot of my bed. With my steel shaft in hand, I stroke it and hold it out to her. Her mouth falls open for me and I rest one knee on the bed. Rocking my hips in and out with a hand on her head, I control it all. My balls tighten and draw up. I hiss when I feel the slightest bite of her teeth on my dick. Biting the corning of my lip, I let out an exhale.
Pushing her a little further, I gag her with my cock. Pulling back, I find the depth Jazz can take me and easily glide in and out. I moan from the pleasure of it all. My balls tighten up and my spine tingles, so I pull out and step back. My hand wraps around my cock and I pump my shaft with log slow strokes. “Turn around, give me your ass.” Gracefully, she turns and presents her plump ass to me. I stroke my cock furiously until I coat her ass with my jizz.
“Fuck, sucia, I need more of you.” That is what she is—my dirty girl, mi sucia. My palm gently presses the middle of her back to lay her down on her chest and I inch her knees apart further. Picking up her bra, I tie her hands behind her back. Kneeling behind her, I take in her intoxicating scent of arousal. My tongue licks from her clit up to her asshole, then back down to her pussy lips. I suck them into my mouth, cleaning her cum from just moments ago.
Her moans aren’t enough. I want her screaming my name. My fingers massage her cunt, coaxing another orgasm from her. My lungs exhale a hot breath as I blow over her clit, and she gasps as her muscles tighten around me, so close. Her ass rears back to me, seeking more. Each swipe of my tongue stiffens my cock and she continues to moan. Jazzy is so wet, my hand drips with her arousal.
Now I’m the impatient one. My dick jerks with need, craving her cunt. But I hunger for her release more. I take her at a fast pace that we both need. With each pass, she inhales and her body hums from her moans. I keep going until her body relaxes and Jazmin comes on my face.
Before the last contraction of her orgasm, I’m up and ripping open a condom from my nightstand with my teeth. The wrapper is lost along with my control, the only time I allow myself to be free. Her body is a place where I let go of the problems of the club. I thirst to see the vixen underneath me, and the only way to do that is to show her the man she chose to give her flesh to. With one hard thrust our bodies join as one. My cock is squeezed inside her hot cunt. My fingers dig into her hips and I thrust with all my power. Chasing my demons away and quieting the internal noise, I use her as a vessel for freedom. With a roar, I empty everything that I have inside me into her.
Stepping back, I toss the condom into the trash, then untie her hands from behind her back. “Leave.” Nothing can stop me from taking what I want. What can’t happen is for her to take anything from me. She needs to know there isn’t an “us”. What Jazmin doesn’t realize is that I laid my mark on her and claimed her to calm the beast inside me. I never eat pussy. When I call on her, she will come, and she will be mine. For tonight, that’s all she’ll get, only what I want to give—my dick, on my terms.
Jazz doesn’t pout and cry like I’m used to. She takes my shirt off the floor, wipes my smeared load from her caramel skin, then tugs her clothes back on. Her chin is up, her shoulders back, and she struts from my room like a very satisfied kitten. Not one look back. She’s fucking perfect.