blonde with her roots showing in his bed and he swore under his breath. “Monica.”
The woman opened her eyes and stared blearily his way. Her small tits — a nice handful by most standards but not by his now that he’d sampled Delainey’s fabulous rack — were out on display as was everything else because Monica always slept naked. “Baby, is that you? Oh my God, I thought you were dead,” she said, slurring her words. Great, she was doped up. Maybe that would work in his favor.
“Hey Monica, I need your help, baby,” he said, going to the side of the bed to rummage through his nightstand. “Can you help me?”
“Sure, honey,” she agreed, trying to sober up. She grinned hazily as she squeezed her tits and giggled. “I know exactly how I can help you.”
He smothered the wrinkle in his upper lip that threatened as he tried to act as if everything was the same as it ever was. He forced himself to pinch her nipple and smile. “That’s my girl. But I need you to pay attention right now.”
She pouted but quickly clamored to her feet — damn, she wasn’t as doped up as he’d hoped if she could move that fast — and suddenly she was pulling him to the bed to rip at his pants. “I’ve missed this cock,” she purred, yanking at his fly while going down on her knees. “So yummy…”
Fuck . If she put his cock in her mouth…he might puke. “Monica, wait…”
“I can’t wait, I’m so happy you’re alive, baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me,” she whined like a little girl and he wanted to roll his eyes.
“Later, babe,” he promised her, trying to get her off his dick but Monica was like a beast on a bone —literally — and before he could stop her, that big, pouty mouth was sucking him down her throat like a wide-mouth bass on a june bug and all he could do was not shout and push her away like something diseased. Holy hell, he used to gleefully fuck Monica without a second thought, now he couldn’t even imagine. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Monica had a mouth that could suck the chrome from a ball hitch, he would’ve lost his erection. But getting a blow job, even by someone you thought was disgusting, was still a blow job, right? He closed his eyes and let Monica do her thing until he was, finally — thank God — ready to come. He pictured Delainey and tried to forget that it was Monica and not his beautiful, sweet girl that was pleasuring him just so he could get it over with. He grunted as a meager, pathetic spurt burst into her mouth and before Monica even had a chance to swallow, he’d yanked his cock out and tucked it away, wanting to shower and scrub with bleach but he’d come for a reason; his bike and information. Monica wiped her mouth and smiled, looking very pleased with herself and he forced an easy, satisfied smile for her benefit. “I’ve missed you. Where you been?” Monica asked, rising to walk to the adjoining bathroom. “I knew you weren’t dead. Ain’t no one got the balls to put you down but Randy is out there running his mouth acting like he was the one who’s got what it takes to take your spot.” She turned and held up her pinky finger with another laugh. “As if.”
Ugh. She’d fucked Randy. Not surprised but disgusted. “What’s Randy saying?” he asked.
“Oh, stupid shit,” Monica said, frowning. “Like you were the one who set up Charlie in the bust that went down.”
“He’s lying,” he told Monica easily, the lie tripping from his mouth without a hitch. He had set up Charlie because Charlie was a no-good piece of shit who’d bungled a major deal Bronx had brokered with the Mexican cartel for a gun shipment that somehow had ended up in The Kings’ fucking hands. Now Jax and Hunter were living large on what was supposed to be his fucking dime. So yeah, Charlie had to pay somehow and tipping off the cops had been an easy fix. Besides, Charlie was a waste of oxygen on most days. He’d done the world a fucking
The woman opened her eyes and stared blearily his way. Her small tits — a nice handful by most standards but not by his now that he’d sampled Delainey’s fabulous rack — were out on display as was everything else because Monica always slept naked. “Baby, is that you? Oh my God, I thought you were dead,” she said, slurring her words. Great, she was doped up. Maybe that would work in his favor.
“Hey Monica, I need your help, baby,” he said, going to the side of the bed to rummage through his nightstand. “Can you help me?”
“Sure, honey,” she agreed, trying to sober up. She grinned hazily as she squeezed her tits and giggled. “I know exactly how I can help you.”
He smothered the wrinkle in his upper lip that threatened as he tried to act as if everything was the same as it ever was. He forced himself to pinch her nipple and smile. “That’s my girl. But I need you to pay attention right now.”
She pouted but quickly clamored to her feet — damn, she wasn’t as doped up as he’d hoped if she could move that fast — and suddenly she was pulling him to the bed to rip at his pants. “I’ve missed this cock,” she purred, yanking at his fly while going down on her knees. “So yummy…”
Fuck . If she put his cock in her mouth…he might puke. “Monica, wait…”
“I can’t wait, I’m so happy you’re alive, baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me,” she whined like a little girl and he wanted to roll his eyes.
“Later, babe,” he promised her, trying to get her off his dick but Monica was like a beast on a bone —literally — and before he could stop her, that big, pouty mouth was sucking him down her throat like a wide-mouth bass on a june bug and all he could do was not shout and push her away like something diseased. Holy hell, he used to gleefully fuck Monica without a second thought, now he couldn’t even imagine. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Monica had a mouth that could suck the chrome from a ball hitch, he would’ve lost his erection. But getting a blow job, even by someone you thought was disgusting, was still a blow job, right? He closed his eyes and let Monica do her thing until he was, finally — thank God — ready to come. He pictured Delainey and tried to forget that it was Monica and not his beautiful, sweet girl that was pleasuring him just so he could get it over with. He grunted as a meager, pathetic spurt burst into her mouth and before Monica even had a chance to swallow, he’d yanked his cock out and tucked it away, wanting to shower and scrub with bleach but he’d come for a reason; his bike and information. Monica wiped her mouth and smiled, looking very pleased with herself and he forced an easy, satisfied smile for her benefit. “I’ve missed you. Where you been?” Monica asked, rising to walk to the adjoining bathroom. “I knew you weren’t dead. Ain’t no one got the balls to put you down but Randy is out there running his mouth acting like he was the one who’s got what it takes to take your spot.” She turned and held up her pinky finger with another laugh. “As if.”
Ugh. She’d fucked Randy. Not surprised but disgusted. “What’s Randy saying?” he asked.
“Oh, stupid shit,” Monica said, frowning. “Like you were the one who set up Charlie in the bust that went down.”
“He’s lying,” he told Monica easily, the lie tripping from his mouth without a hitch. He had set up Charlie because Charlie was a no-good piece of shit who’d bungled a major deal Bronx had brokered with the Mexican cartel for a gun shipment that somehow had ended up in The Kings’ fucking hands. Now Jax and Hunter were living large on what was supposed to be his fucking dime. So yeah, Charlie had to pay somehow and tipping off the cops had been an easy fix. Besides, Charlie was a waste of oxygen on most days. He’d done the world a fucking
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