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Riff and Raff looked a lot alike—tall, strong builds, black hair, dark eyes, strong jaws. But where Riff had a cultured beard, Raff was clean-shaven. Riff had one arm sleeve, but Raff was completely covered in ink.
“Oh, and look, a pretty girl,” he added, gaze landing on Murphy as she watched them, a mug of coffee nestled in her hands.
“Riff, Raff, this is Murphy. Murphy, Riff and Raff,” I said, pointing each of them out.
“The Murphy?” Raff asked, smile warm. “The one worth all of this trouble to get these guns?”
“That’s me,” Murphy agreed. “And they’re pretty much done. I just need to test them out.”
“So, how come no one mentioned how pretty you are?” Raff asked, as if it was an affront to him personally not to have been forewarned.
“Raff, reel it in,” I said, wrapping an arm around Murphy’s hip.
“All in good fun, man, all in good fun. We all know it is practically cheating on Lula for me to eye-fuck anyone else too hard.”
“Lula barely gives you the time of day,” Riff said, rolling his eyes at his brother.
“She just isn’t ready to admit her feelings,” Raff declared. “There’s no way she can see all of this,” he went on, waving at himself, “and not fall in love.”
“Raff’s greatest quality is clearly his humility,” I said, getting a smirk out of Murphy.
“So… are we partying? Or now that our resident party animal is shacked up, are we supposed to, like, have civilized dinner parties and shit?”
“We’re partying,” I told him. “It’s just early still. And we just got done debriefing our new prospect.”
“The hacker?” Riff asked, less interested in partying, and more interested in the workings of the club.
“Yeah. He’s got Nancy Bird as his P.O.,” I told them, getting winces out of them both. “Yeah,” I agreed. “He was supposed to be part of the party, but we are playing shit safe for right now. He’s starting work at Nyx’s karate place the day after tomorrow, so you can meet him.”
“And that other guy, the ex-military?” Riff prompted.
“Another couple of weeks. We’re hoping he gets a different P.O. to make shit easier.”
But that was a problem for a different time.
It wasn’t long before Detroit got to cooking, and the take-out got ordered, and the drinks started pouring.
Riff and Raff went down to The Bog to find some women to bring back home.
And by the time eight or nine rolled around, the party was in overdrive. Music thumped, laughter was all around, and Murphy looked completely shell-shocked by it all.
“You alright?” I asked, giving her another drink.
“This is a lot,” she decided, gaze moving around the room. “I mean, I get it. Everyone seems to be having fun, but it’s a lot.”
It was.
A lot of noises—the music, the voices. A lot of faces she didn’t recognize. A lot of different perfumes and colognes all mingling together.
And, I found, parties were a bit different when you weren’t actively looking to charm someone’s panties off.
It felt a little more detached.
I suddenly understood why Judge, Crow, and Slash didn’t really participate as much as they used to. Happier to spend some time with their women in private.
Which, well, sounded like a hell of an idea to me.
“Chug that,” I demanded, knocking her glass with mine, then finishing my glass.
“Why?” she asked, but at my raised brow, she just tipped the glass and drank it back. “Okay. What now?” she asked as I took the glass and set it next to mine on the counter.
Reaching down, I grabbed her hand, pulling her along with me.
Down the hall.
Into the elevator.
Closing the door.
Hitting the button.
Then pausing it between the two floors.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking over with slightly bleary, drunken eyes.
I could feel the booze flooding my system too. Heightening things, and dulling other shit, until all there was in the world was her as I slammed her back into the wall, as my lips crashed down on hers.
My hand immediately yanked her button and zipper free, slipping inside, and toying with her clit as her lips got hungrier on mine.
Impatient, my lips ripped from hers as my hands yanked down her pants and panties.
“Sway, we can’t,” she objected, breathless, face a little pink. From the desire, from the liquor, from the shock of it all.
“Sure we can,” I said as I dropped down onto my knees, throwing her leg over my shoulder, and sucking her clit into my mouth.
There were no objections then as her hands grabbed my head, as her hips rocked against my tongue when it started to trace over her clit.
Guards lowered by the alcohol, she didn’t even try to muffle herself as I drove her upward.
I didn’t let her come, though.
Not yet.
I got her right to that edge, then yanked away, getting to my feet, and watching as some of the haze slipped back as I freed my cock.
