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four
The expectationof Bree pulling away only to have her stay put had been a nice surprise. Her allowing him to touch her—no, grab her—as his fingers created a rhythm had him wondering how many layers this woman had. She was watching a live porno play out thanks to Duncan, aka Dragon. Ice wondered if she was about to drop the hand from around her neck and join his, currently finding a home. Thankfully she appeared more than willing to leave him to take on the task she might have done alone in her room.
The fabric of her leggings wasn’t thick, and soon warmth shifted into wetness. He wondered how far he dared go with the woman. His manhood had already begun stiffening as he pressed along the side of her, torn between watching her body react to his and wanting to be behind her and truly explore every inch.
“Don’t close your eyes,” he ordered when her breaths quickened and her body became lax. “Watch them.”
“I…should…n’t…be.” Her voice trembled and hitched, her fingers coming together then splaying wide on her neck, stroking at a speed he matched. “It isn’t right.”
“And yet you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like?” he hummed and brushed his lips along the length of her neck, on the edge, from the back of her ear down to her collarbone, one eye on the action playing out in the room and the other taking in the gooseflesh erupting. “Which one? Which one are you thinking about? Which one are you taking their place?”
“The one on her knees,” she breathed, and he glided his hand up to the waistband of her leggings.
“Tell me to stop,” he challenged, but she didn’t even squeak a protest as he slipped under the tight Lycra, a hint of lace touching the tips of his fingers before he slipped them to the wet folds, causing her to bring her hand to her mouth to mute her moan.
“Am I the man?” he questioned, spreading her core open as his middle finger glided in with no resistance, “the one between your lips, hitting the back of your throat and playing with your sweet pussy?”
“No.” Her hitched breath told of her fighting the truth behind the lie. His thumb circled her clit as the soft hair on the top of her cunt tickled his palm.
“Liar,” he said, enjoying her resistance even as she submitted to him. Was she really so lost in the moment?
Dragon shifted, pulling his hand from the woman’s pussy, yanking her hair back quickly, and then plunging the woman he’d been eating down over him as easy as the condom he wore, capturing her mouth with his as he thrust and came, the groan and shudder evident as the woman who danced under the name Velvet Moon cried out and lolled her head back. The other dancer, who went by Star, was resting on her knees, watching the moment play out, as the guy reached for his wallet and removed a few bills—larger ones, of course—then held out a few more.
Words were exchanged, negotiations between seasoned professionals, before Velvet turned to Star, spread her legs, and dipped between them, disappearing from the small opening. The slit of light turned the visual into her imagined idea of what the woman was doing as the man rubbed circles on Velvet’s ass in encouragement. When he laid his head back, enjoying the scene, his eyes caught the crack in privacy and must have taken in Bree’s eyes. Her legs clenched, practically crushing Ice’s hand between her thighs, and he wondered how he could explain a broken hand to the doctor.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, the spell broken as she turned, wrenching his finger a bit as he spun her flush to the wall, held one of her hands at the wrist to restrain her, and pulled out the now pulsing digit.
“Ow! Damn, Ice, how’d ya lose your finger?” he joked. “Two knuckles deep in Bree when she got caught not paying for a peep show.”
“Fuck off,” she bit, and he pressed harder into her.
“You were enjoying it.”
“I was lost in a moment, and you took advantage,” she snarled.
“And yet,” he said, bringing his middle finger to his mouth, sucking every inch of her essence off of it, and trying not to moan in ecstasy at the sweet nectar, “I wonder, if I took you to an open room and made sure the curtain was closed, would you let me get a better taste?”
He guided her locked wrist between them and ran her hand over his hardness.
“Or would you take this?”
“Ice bucket,” she sniped.
“Oh baby, if you only knew what I could do with a piece of ice.”
Many wondered how he’d gotten the nickname Ice over the years. It was simple. A woman gave it to him in high school from a trick he pulled with the right kind of ice cubes. His reputation grew, and the men overheard the name, adding to the legend.
“Now I know why the women call you Ice,” Tavish MacDaniel, aka Grimm, said in the low grumble he tended to have when in a bit of awe. “You’re a bit young, but I’ll sponsor you.”
They were standing over a body, one Ice had sliced open from stem to stern without breaking eye contact. He believed if you were going to take a man’s life, the least you could do was look him in the eye until the life left them. The weight of “did he or didn’t he deserve to die” wasn’t solely on him. Having hung around the Sin City MC, he knew the rules even if he was too young to be spoken to. They hated the idea of being called groomers for troubled teens looking for a place, as if they hunted them out, when in reality, Ice had made his way to them.
Outlaws, trouble, he’d heard it all from Officer Nunez, but she didn’t live in the Stardust Mobile Home Village, where the majority of tourism dollars weren’t from slots but from those who were runners for the Sin City MC’s pill and powder game. He’d seen the devastation and knew drugs were in his future, but which end mattered. Buying or selling. Both gave him a shortened life. One would make him think he wasn’t living in shit; the other would provide him an opportunity to get out. He’d run for them, lying about his age, but was too far in with them for his grandmother’s protests to be heard.
The man at his feet had been caught trying to steal his stash. He’d be strung up for a few hours before being taken away. No police would be called; if they were, the body would be removed before they made it to the trailer park. This would be a warning, and never again would Ice have to fear his grandmother being hurt like she had been a few years before.
“You can’t just take off and leave the twins.” She scowled at him.
“Didn’t you just abandon them?” he questioned.
