Spin It Again by Red Garnier Page A

bastard’s name, but his name. David’s name. It echoed in his ears like a siren song as he slammed his fist into the bastard’s nose, sending him tumbling backward. After readying his fists to deliver yet another blow, one that would hopefully kill the bastard, a pair of hands suddenly locked his arms behind his back, and David bucked wildly in an effort to release himself.
    “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside,” a deep voice said.
    It was someone from the club’s security, and as David’s wild, wrecked gaze scanned the club, he noticed there were several more of them winding their way through the crowd, speaking into the tiny microphones on their collars as they approached.
    “I’ll escort my own fucking self out!” he thundered, yanking his arms free.
    But before he did as he promised, he looked at Evie, standing there looking just amazing, her chest heaving rapidly, her face flushed, her blue eyes big and scared and beautiful.
    He pointed a finger straight at her, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flaring with each breath he took. “You’re mine, do you hear me?” He slammed his palms to his chest.
    “You’re fucking mine.”
    On his way out, he fell on the sidewalk outside the club, suddenly weakened by the sight of her. One of the blondes—the one who didn’ t run away scared shitless—
    wrapped her arms around him and helped him wobble across the lobby when they arrived at his building. Once in his apartment, she’d giggled sexily and brushed blood away from his lips so she could kiss him.
    He remembered going crazy, tearing her clothes off, forcing her to her knees and sticking his cock into her mouth. Every single word he’d said then, he’d meant for someone else.
    “Fucking bitch. You damned horny bitch. Did you want cock? Is that what you wanted, you hot, horny slut? Did you want his cock inside you?”
    The blonde had thought it wise to shout a big, effusive “Yes!” to everything he said.
    Seriously, he could’ve killed her for that—he was so damned pissed. Just to let her know she was in serious danger, he growled a low, terrifying sound to rival that of every monster in any horror movie he’d ever seen. Still she didn’t quite get it, and instead pouted her lips and looked up at him dreamily.
    “Yes! I’m a slut. A big, fat, horny slut…punish me, punish me now!” Did her speech serve to appease him? Hell no. Only having Evie there—twisting her hair like he twisted the blonde’s, forcing her down on all fours and taking her like a bitch in heat—would serve to appease him. Maybe even making that bastard she was with watch while he did so.
    The blonde had yelped and whimpered and begged for more even as he slapped her buttocks with his palms and rammed his cock into her ass without the slightest concern for her whatsoever. She clutched at her own tits, squeezed and pinched her nipples and even furiously pushed her butt back against his hips, as if his thrusts weren’t harsh enough to suit her.
    She had a nice, tight little ass. It molded around his cock like clay, making him grit his teeth from the effort it took just to push and keep on pushing into that tiny, pink puckered hole. Every erotic sound, the low and the loud, tore from her lips as he fucked her, punished her, made her regret touching that cock, made her regret wanting it. She wasn’t some random blonde, she wasn’t a stranger.
    She was Evie. On all fours, screaming her head off, taking his cock deep inside her ass and shoving back for more. It was Evie squeezing her own tits, bending her head down and pulling up a breast to her lips so she could suck on her own nipple. It was Evie sliding a hand past her navel and cupping her pussy in her hand, slowly circling her clit with her finger before sticking it into the wet, gleaming folds of her cunt. And it was Evie letting him fuck her in the ass, letting him have his way with her, while she touched herself, licked herself, like the little bitch she