I slid to my knees as I kissed down Tyler’s body. His muscles jumped for me as my hands raked down his sides. I felt every one of his chiseled muscles pulse underneath my touch as I sank to the floor. He was now dripping for me, lurching toward my mouth and begging to be between my lips. I wrapped my hands around his thighs and pulled him close to me.
I felt Tyler’s hands wrap tightly in my hair as Nick perched himself behind me.
“Hold on,” Nick said. “I want to taste you.”
I heard chairs moving and the table shifting before Nick slid underneath my thighs. His hands traveled up my body, squeezing my breasts as I moaned. I grabbed Tyler’s cock and wrapped my lips around it, causing a groan to fall from his lips.
Then, Nick pulled my pussy down onto his lips.
“Oh shit,” I said. “Holy fuck.”
Tyler’s hand guided my face along his cock as my hips rolled into Nick’s lips. I reached around and sank my nails into Tyler’s tight ass, causing him to thrust forward. I raked my nails down his thighs as Nick sucked my clit between his teeth, causing my legs to grow weak.
“I got you, Kitten” Nick said.
His arms held me up as I braced against Tyler. I could feel myself quickly approaching my end. My eyes rolled back as my throat clamped down around Tyler. I moaned and whimpered. I was trembling against them both, riding Nick’s face with no shame as I enjoyed the wave of an intoxicating orgasm rushing through my body.
“You taste so fucking good,” Nick said.
His vibrations sent me over the edge. His tongue pressed into my clit, riding me through my orgasm as Tyler pulled his cock from my mouth. I moaned into the room, crying out Nick’s name as I shook. Tyler’s hand was holding my hair, pulling my gaze up to his.
“You’ll moan my name before this is all over.”
I had a feeling he wouldn’t disappoint.
CHAPTER 1
Not tonight.
I don’t need this shit tonight.
What started out as a slow afternoon was quickly turning into a wild night at The Skull. In just five hours, I’d already yelled for the bouncers to break up three bar fights between drunken asshats fighting over purely senseless shit. I was losing my damn mind and voice.
Unlike most evenings when I work through the chaos with polished grace, tonight’s serving of ridiculous crap was working my patience in a royal way.
Thanks to the current state of my personal life I didn’t have the tolerance to deal with the bull that came with my bartending gig.
Luckily though, I knew how to use the pistol stashed below the counter.
Special announcement dicks: I’m not afraid to pull the bitch out.
A low-key evening to help me get away from all the bullshit happening at home was all I asked. That’s what everyone was going to give me, whether they liked it or not.
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I’d worked at The Skull for a little over two years. It was the only place willing to hire someone without work experience and the owner didn't give a damn about my age. I was now a nineteen-year-old, slinging beer and whiskey in a biker bar to save up money to fund my own dream.
What was my dream?
I was going to be a badass biker street wear boutique owner.
I was determined.
I was driven.
Mostly, I was hungry.
To say that I’d grown up in an unstable household would have been an understatement. I had to make my own way through life ever since I could remember. My passion for clothing design gave me a break from Emma’s screwed up world, and into a fantasy of leather and lace.