him I was still searching for Jamison.
On the bright side, I had clues that would hopefully lead me to my prey. It pissed me off to be away from my chapter for too long with the Bastards out there gunning for us, but Gary is a threat that has to be eliminated at all cost.
I’d rather have stayed at the LA clubhouse. Dragon would have told Nitro I was coming, but I wasn’t about to drop in at this time of the morning. Besides, I’m exhausted, and this place will do for tonight. It has a surprisingly big shower, there’s no bed bugs, and the air conditioning works without making the horrible banging sounds old ones like the system in this room often make.
I’d taken my time under the hot shower, washing away the road dust and sweat of the day, and wishing to hell I could have dragged Emma along. I jerked off in the shower, a poor substitute for her hot, tight pussy. I’d conjured up that image of her tied to the pool table, her mouth gagged, and come after a few strokes. Ropes of my come splashed the shower tiles, and I’d wished they’d jetted across her ass cheeks instead.
The instant the image fills my mind again, my dick turns to steel, pressing against the mattress under me.
Fucking damn it. The little thief has turned me into a teenaged boy.
I flop onto my back, gritting my teeth. “This is gonna be a long-ass night.”
Suppose beating on Lenny didn’t help. Violence always makes me horny.
Resisting the urge to call Pip and tell him to bring Emma his phone, I close my eyes and fist my cock, pumping it slowly. Precum leaks from the tip, and I lubricate myself with it, letting the fantasy that’s already taken root unfold in my mind.
In my mind’s eye, I’ve flipped her onto her stomach and spread her legs, soaking my cock with her juices, sliding it through the folds of her perfect pussy. Except we’re not in the packed barroom at Casper’s. We’re here now, in this dingy room, and I’ve climbed off the bed to stand at the foot of the mattress, hauling her to the edge of it.
I whisper in her ear all the dirty things I’m gonna do to her, things I’ve thought about for weeks but have never made a reality. She gasps, and there’s fear in that sound, but I can’t miss the delicious touch of anticipation in it.
When I pull her further across the bed until her feet hang off the foot end, she starts to fight me, murmuring desperate pleas. I yank her arms behind her, pinning them at the small of her back and holding them still with one hand. Her breathing is quick and shallow, and she tries to kick me away, but I stand between her legs, trapping her hips with mine.
Then I shove my bandana in her mouth.
This must crank up her fear, because she tries to turn her head away, to spit the cloth out. I trap her head with my hand and push the cloth in.
“Be a good girl,” I tell her. “If you fight this, you’ll only make me want you more.”
She goes still. Her breathing is fast and harsh, muffled through the gag, and I love the sound of it.
“Good girl. You and I both know you’ve wanted me up your ass from day one. Don’t spit it out. Spit that thing out, and I’ll belt you so hard you won’t sit for a month.”
Her body stiffens with shock. She’s almost unnaturally still, but her breathing is harsh and ragged in my ears, the fear in it a salve against the havoc she’s dared make of my world.
I imagine finding her untouched, puckered hole and thrusting into her, savoring the tightness as her muscles clench around me.
She lets out a whimper and thrashes in my grip. Her cries are so innocent, so frightened and pained, but I don’t relent, don’t show her any mercy. I bury myself to the hilt with a grunt, making sure she feels every inch of me filling her.
Lying alone in my bed, I pump my cock slowly. A few strokes and I’m hard to the point of pain again. I hiss between my teeth, forcing myself to slow down and enjoy the fantasy.
I’ve always had a vivid imagination, and it’s both a blessing and a curse. The same thing that allows me to envision frightening the fuck out of the men