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CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Cross Me
Driving to The Crib Club after reluctantly dropping Kate off at Hudson’s place, I relive our kiss over and over again.
I’m still hard.
Painfully so.
I’d wanted to give Kate a kiss that proved how deeply I feel for her, but instead of being sensual it had ended up being passionate, raw and ball-crushingly painful. Fuck, I ache for her. My balls feel like a vice is tightening around them, and don’t get me started on my dick.
It hates me right now.
I hate myself right now.
That kiss took me to the brink of madness, and I’m fucking drowning in the aftermath.
Even my goddamn thoughts are poetic, but that’s nothing compared to the way it felt to finally kiss her. I’d gone in soft and ended up in a motherfucking duel for dominance.
Our teeth had clashed and our tongues fought. She was mad at me, I felt that in the way she kissed me, how she’d climbed into my lap and rubbed her hot, jean covered cunt over my raging hard-on. She’d wanted me to break, and in all fucking honesty, a huge part of me wanted to break too. I wanted to rip off her jeans and knickers, ram my dick inside her tight heat and smash through the thin barrier of her virginity, finally claiming her as mine.
But I hadn’t.
Instead we kissed for long, long minutes and it was breathless and sloppy and fucking perfect. Fuck knows I wanted to throw caution to the wind, but I kept my word, forcibly removing myself from her even though it felt like I was cutting off all of my limbs. Even now I feel as though part of me is missing, my balls certainly think it’s my dick.
I’ve never craved someone as much as I have Kate.
Never.
Pulling into the car park beneath The Crib Club, I pull the handbrake up and give myself a moment to calm the fuck down. My goddamn heart has been racing ever since Kate climbed up on the recliner and pressed her palm against my chest so that I could tattoo her handprint forever on my body. Over the coming weeks I intend to fill it in so that everyone sees it and knows my motherfucking heart has been claimed. I run my fingers over the tattoo now hidden beneath my shirt and grin, the slight sting and the lingering pleasure a reminder of the girl I love…
Love.
“Yeah,love,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.
Fuck. I need to get a hold of myself. I made a promise to Kate and I intend on sticking to it. First and foremost, there’s the not so small fact she’s not yet at the age I would even consider fuckable. I have an issue sleeping with anyone who has the word ‘teen’ at the end of their age, even if they hit eighteen and are classed as an adult. As much as I know Kate’s a woman, and is as far removed from a child as a person can get, given how she’s grown up in the environment she has, I can’t and won’t sleep with her until she hits twenty.
Call it whatever the fuck you want.
I won’t do it.
Secondly, I still haven’t figured out how to deal with Carter. I’m not afraid of him in any shape or form, but I do still have enough respect for him not to carry on with his daughter without speaking to him about it first. I owe him that much. Luckily I’ve got time to figure that out.
Two fucking years to be precise.
I’ll be lucky not to die ofblueballitisby then.
Tonight I just need to get my head back in the game, and be the man Carter hired me to be. Honestly, I’m not sure why he wants to conduct business at The Crib Club, but then again why do I care? If he and the King want to whack off to a couple of hot sex workers in a legit club to close their business deal then who the fuck am I to question it? I don’t like the King, but so long as he gets his rocks off with anyone other than Kate, I’m fucking good.
Not that I’ve forgotten how he’d looked at her, because I haven’t.
If he so much as looks at her the wrong way, I will remove his eyes from his face and damn the consequences. With that thought in mind, I rearrange my rapidly deflating cock, grab my gun, holstering it at my waist, then head inside the club.
* * *
“Got things sorted with Princess?”Dom asks me as we head over to the private room Carter has rented for the evening. The Crib Club is filled to the brim with high class hookers and patrons that are into all manner of kinky shit. There’s a main stage area with strippers and pole dancers, and a dozen or more private rooms around the edge of the club that have a lockable door and a glass screen that allows you to view whatever sexual fantasy you’ve paid to watch. For those wanting a more personal experience, the whole first floor of the club is filled with bedrooms that you can rent for the night. There is even a part of the club designated for gambling. If card games are your thing, with a little sex on the side, then this place is for you.
“What’s up, Beast, trouble in paradise?” Dom persists when I don’t respond straight away.
