Page 45 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“What do you want?” She eyes me warily.

“Right now.” I pop the button on my pants. Methodically lower the zipper. “I want what you were so eager to give to my bandmate.”

Her eyes widen, her gaze glued to my hand as I shove my pants down enough that my cock is free.

Her face grows pale, all except her cheeks. The color in them heighten into deep crimson smudges as her upper lip curls away from her teeth. “I’m not touching that.”

I wind my hand around the length and stroke myself a couple of times.

Her gaze flicks to the movement.

“You’re going to get on your fucking knees and suck it.” I stalk toward her. “Unless you don’t want to see your things again.”

She sneers at me, but her pupils have grown to twice their usual size before they land back on my face. She takes a step back. But she must catch herself, because she fixes herself in place. Juts her chin out. “There is nothing important enough in this world to make me want to touch you ever again.”

Except, I’m betting, whatever is in the shoebox. I’m going to have to go through it when I get a chance. “I can tell when you’re lying.”

“You don’t fucking know me.” She glares at me.

I roll my eyes at that. “Ha. You know what... you’re right. I guess I never truly knew you at all, huh? But you know what I do know? I know you want whatever is in that box. You want it bad enough that you’re going to take my cum down your throat for it.”

She puffs out her cheeks and bunches up her fists. “Screw you. Go blow your own diseased dick.”

“Wouldn’t if I could. Not when I can make you do it for me. I haven’t forgotten that hot fucking mouth.” I continue to stroke my cock. “You know Doc is a stickler for making sure we’re clean.”

I expected the fight. Her hot temper and bratty behavior always translated into the hottest fucking.

We’re face to face now. No room for her to do anything but step back, give in. “And you weren’t concerned about where your drummer boy’s cock had been.”

“That’s because he didn’t stick his cock in Sonatina Savant.” Her nose wrinkles when she has to tip her head back to look at me. There’s not enough hate in her gaze to hide the bitterness.

If looks could kill, I would be a dead man. I ignore her accusation. I don’t owe her anything. “The choice is yours. Either get on your knees, or I keep your box.”

The tip of her pink tongue darts between her lips to wet them. “You’re a fucking prick. What? Are your groupies not putting out for you anymore? Have they worked out what a total ass Mr. Fame and Glory is? I bet Bronx is satisfying them when you can’t.”

The little bitch. “I can get whoever I want. Whenever I want. If Bronx wants a shot at my leftovers, I don’t mind sharing. But you... you don’t get to fuck around wherever you want. You wanna suck someone’s cock so bad? You get on your knees and wrap those filthy lying lips around my cock. Then maybe I’ll give you the box back.”

Her eyebrows go from slanted with irritation to furrowed with contemplation. She tips her head to one side. Lifting a hand in the scant space between our bodies, she slides a fingernail down my chest. “You want my mouth around your cock? I want my box and my vibrator back. I know you took it, you perv.”

“Need a release?” I press into her hand, making her nail dig in. “Maybe if you’re a good little whore and satisfy me, I’ll throw in your battery-operated buddy. After all, you’ll probably need it since no one else will be touching you.”

She glares into my eyes, searching for something. Probably trying to decide if I’m serious.

Taking her hand, I apply pressure to her shoulders to encourage her down. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”

She keeps eye contact with me. Our breaths mingle. My cock throbs. I want her mouth around me more than I probably should.

Her lips move ever so slightly into a smirk.

Nerves or something like it gives me a spacy feeling in my chest. I don’t like the way she’s looking at me.

She lowers to her knees. Hands on her thighs, her face level with my erection. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

My chest puffs up at seeing her in this submissive position with all that fire in her eyes. Her lips part, but she makes no move to put her mouth on me.

“Are you just going to stare at it?” I rub my thumb over the pre-cum leaking from the crown of my cock.

Her gaze flicks to my face. “Make me.”