“You’re an asshole!”
He shrugs and glances toward my handbag. “Speaking of… I’d like to fuck your asshole, too. We can try that first, if it’s your thing. I get the feeling it is. Can’t say your asshole doesn’t appeal to me. Though I don’t believe you that you’ve given it to someone else. It was tighter than my little finger.”
“Oh my God!”
“You can call me God while I fuck your asshole. I don’t mind.”
“Stop!” Mortified, thrumming with need, angry at myself for stopping him before I came, I slide along the wall and skirt the edge of his bed. He watches me the way a lion might watch his prey as I search the room. “Where are my clothes? I didn’t tell you to undress me!”
Leaning over the edge of the bed, he picks up my two-hundred-dollar skirt and tosses the wrinkled fabric at my chest. “Believe it or not, I was actually trying to help you. You seem to think you’re the victim here, but I saved you from smashing your head on the concrete last night. I brought you home.Asked permissionto help you. I could’ve just put you in a cab and told him to take you to the hospital. Let your family find you all sliced up. But no, I stitched you up. Slept on the edge of my bed and didn’t touch you.Youwere the one who grew six-hundred hands and started groping.Youwere the one who licked first.Youwere the one who didn’t say no when I finally touched.”
Shaken more than I should be, I step into my skirt and hide my grimace at my tender ankle. “I did say no.”
He scoffs. “No, Kane.” He puts on a breathy, feminine voice and mocks me. “No, Kane. Ooooh, Kane. Touch me, but let me play hard to get.” He shakes his head. “That ain’tno. That’slet me pretend to be innocent, but fuck me like you fuck all your whores. I always wanted to be fucked like that, but I’m too shy to ask, and my corporate boyfriend’s cock never seems to stand for more than two seconds.”
“You’re a pig!” I step into my heels and snatch up my blood-soaked shirt. My hands shake with remembrance, with the fear I felt when Lance was on me; with the panic that skittered through my blood when his knife glanced off my neck. “The men I fuck know how to do it.Andthey know how to get permission, first. There’s a reason they have jobs and can walk into a police station without fear of being arrested.”
“If you say so,” he scoffs. “You don’t know what fucking is until I sink my cock into you. You’ll realize you’re still a virgin, Blondie. Their peanuts don’t count. Then when you go back to your‘permission seeking desk wanker’, you’ll try to get a little wild. You’ll try to fuck on a desk, because that’s as wild as shit gets for little girls like you. But you’ll think of me.” Standing like a grizzly bear in the wild, he unfolds his body and forces me to lookupand swallow at the power in his stance. “You’ll think of me, and you’ll wish your prudish pride didn’t stop me five minutes ago.” Stopping in front of me and sliding his fingers into his mouth, he pulls them out with a pop, then slams his lips against mine until I taste myself on his tongue. He pulls back and adds, “You can say no, you can deny and pretend you don’t want me, but now we both have your pussy on our tongues. Your words lie, but your body can’t.” Stepping to a small set of drawers, he slides the top one open and reveals meticulously folded shirts. Taking the top from the pile on the left, he tosses the fabric at my face. “Your blouse is trashed. Wear this. Next time you’re on a date with a homo in a suit, ask him to wear this when he’s fucking you.”
I swear, steammustbe billowing from my ears as I tug the cottony soft fabric over my head. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re going home to finger yourself.” He waits until our eyes meet. “It’s okay. I’m gonna whack off as soon as you leave, too. You’ve had me hard since I found the ass toy in your bag last night.”
“The ass–” Gaping mouth, heart thrumming, my gaze flips between the man who has me angryandturned on, and my bag. “What?”
“Don’t worry. I texted your boss. About work, not the toy. You’re all set to take today off. Go home, fuck yourself. I put my number in your phone…” He flashes an animalistic grin. “Send me pics. I’llpayfor pictures of your fingers in your pussy.” He steps closer. Stopping barely half a foot in front of me, he brazenly leans in and distracts me with his tongue on my neck, and when my last remaining scraps of dignity escape me on a moan, his fingers walk along my side and pinch my erect nipple. “I willpayyou to let me tongue fuck your pussy. Lay down, take your skirt off. I’ll make you happy, then I’ll take you home.”
“I’m not a whore! Jesus. I won’t be paid, and I won’t fuck you just because you crook your finger and tell me to.”
“I’ll crook my finger inside your asshole. Would you like that?”
Yes.
“No!”
“Oh, Kane.”Breathy whispers, he moans in my ear.“Oh, Kane. Fuck me like you mean it. I was raised to be a lady, but I wanna be fucked like a whore.” He takes my shaking hand, forces it down between us, and wraps it around his silk covered dick. He tugs me forward until our hips clash and my arm is squished between our bodies. “All this talking, Jess. I could’ve been balls deep by now.”
“No. Fuck!” I jump back and slam my toe against the foot of the bed. “Jesus. Stop.” Spinning away from him, I snatch up my handbag and dig inside for my car keys. Stopping, almost spewing on sight, I pull out a butt plug between my thumb and finger. “This isn’t mine! Why would you put that in there?”
Laughing when I toss it away like it has cooties, he follows its trajectory, then brings his eyes back to mine. “I didn’t put it there. But I found it. Turned me the fuck on, Jessica Ann.”
“Stop!” On the verge of tears, I throw one last glance around the room to find anything else that might be mine.
Soon, not so far in the future, there will be searches done on this apartment. Police forensics will be in here snooping into every tiny nook and cranny – I’d rather my business cards weren’t lying around when they do that.
“I’m going. Don’t come back to my workplace again, unless it’s with a full statement of guilt.”
“Guilt…?” Transforming into the innocent man we both know he isn’t, he tilts his head to the side. “What am I guilty of?”
“Organized crime! You’re Abel Hayes’ enforcer.” When his eyes flash, I wonder if I’ve said too much. If he might just kill me now. “You hurt people. You trade drugs. Guns. God knows what else. Anything not allowed in this country, you help bring in. You’re a bad person!” Storming toward the door – though mystormis more of a buck-eyed limp and a gentle breeze – I noisily kick pots and pans to the side and swing the door wide.
I screech and rebel away from the hairy man standing on the other side with a yellow smile.
Instantly, Kane’s protective arm wraps around my stomach and swings me around. With a roaring curse, he sets me back on my feet and rushes toward our visitor. “Get the fuck away from my door, Murphey!” Moving through the doorway like a freight train, he pins the older man against the wall and lifts him to the tips of his toes. “You come to my door again, I’ll end your fuckin’ life. You snoop around my place, you try to get in; I’ll. End. You.”
When Murphey’s eyes remain focused on me, Kane’s hold tightens. “You go near her, you follow her away from here, you so much as speak to her in the street, death won’t be what you should fear most.” Lowering him to the balls of his feet, Kane’s naked back and shoulder muscles dangerously bunch as he tosses the man ten feet down the hall.
He lands with a heavy thud and painfully scissored legs. Scrambling to his feet nimbler than I would have given him credit for, without a word, he bolts to the end of the hall and skitters down the staircase.