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“I’m going to fucking come, you bastard,” I snarl as I snake a hand to my pussy.
“Stroke my balls while you’re down there, bitch and maybe I’ll let you get yourself off.”
I’m careful as I grope around under his cock which he’s still using as a weapon. I’m definitely going to feel his love-making tomorrow, but it’s going to be a good kind of sore. “Slow down, asshole,” I tell him. “Or you’re gonna end up neutered.”
He growls his laughter as he grabs my hand and grinds it into my pussy. “You better fucking hurry up because I’m about to rocket off and I don’t give a fuck whether you do or not.”
He’s lying, but his words push me past the point of reason. He’s mashing my hand into my pussy while I flick at my clit. “Fuck!” he snarls as he grips me tighter and batters me harder. “Fuck!”
That’s all it takes me for to lose control. My orgasm shoots through me and I feel it in every part of my body. As Trigger slows his thrusting, my body hums like a hive full of bees.
“Jesus,” I whisper as he steps back and pulls my dress down over my ass.
“You got what you asked for, baby,” he says, the aggressive growl still in his voice as he turns me to face him, then shoves me against the wall, his hand on my chest. “Tell you what though, I’m gonna let you wear that dress to the party ‘cause I want my brother’s to see what I have and they don’t. But you’re putting on a fucking jacket. You don’t gotta show them everything.”
I pretend I’m pissed at him, but really, I’m not. I dressed for him and he knows it. I like that he gets me and who I am. “I’ll find a jacket, but I have to clean up first.”
He kicks my legs open again, then raises a knee and grinds it into my pussy. “You’re not fuckin’ cleaning up. You’re gonna wear my jizz all night so you smell like me. So my brother’s know who you’re fucking.
I shiver at the primacy.
Trigger is still high on adrenalin as we race towards his clubhouse. He’s driving at least 20 miles per hour past the speed limit, but it’s a blast. I hang on hard and enjoy the ride – well both rides if anyone’s counting.
The party is in full swing when we walk into the room. Music is blaring through speakers and voices are raised to be heard. We’re greeted loudly and boisterously, and then almost immediately separated, Jess dragging me off towards several women. I know Haley and Bryce. The twins are conspicuously absent, but that’s not a surprise given that they’re not legal and also Coyote’s sisters. I sincerely doubt he’d let them anywhere near a party like this.
Where are Emma and Maddy?” I ask anyway.
“They were here earlier,” a woman in her forties says. “With the other kids. They’re out though, by 10 PM. We have rules, you know.”
I doubt the twins would appreciate being referred to as kids and by the narrow slant of Bryce’s eyes towards the self-important women, she thinks so too. She says to her in her dead tone, “They’re not children and they should be here. Coyote and I are in negotiations.”
Haley interrupts before an argument breaks out. “Let me introduce you to everyone,” she says. “Verity,” she indicates the woman with the attitude. “She’s Hangman’s ex.”
Verity narrows her eyes but says nothing.
Hayley continues. “Slag here belongs to Lord. You might not have met him yet.” She points to a man in a wheelchair. “Chrissy is Fender’s wife and Gillian’s married to Blood. Blood is Chrissy’s brother.” She hesitates as she turns to the last woman.
“I’m Leslie,” a tall, beautiful woman says. “Gears is my guy, but he’s in prison for manslaughter.”
I smile brightly as Jess hands me a suspicious-looking cocktail. I take a sip and then look down at it. It has enough bourbon in it to cure an outbreak of rabies. “I’ve heard good things.” It’s a lie. I haven’t heard anything about anything, but it’s a social nicety one says at parties. Turns out I’m wrong. One doesn’t say such things at this party.
Slag sniffs as she blows the smoke from her cigarette into my face. “Doubt Trigger’s mentioned us at all. Maybe the passarounds. He spends a lot of time with them.”
The gloves are off and so soon. “Oh, you mean back when Trigger was a whore.” I smile like I’m talking to my best friend. “He doesn’t need them anymore.”
Verity looks me up and down like I’m a disease. “I guess it will last as long as you keep dressing like that.”
I expected that unoriginal comment from someone, I just didn’t think it would happen this early.
The two witches are standing next to each other, similar ages and hard expressions. I’m guessing they’re friends by necessity, have been around the club longer than anyone else, have seen more too. They think they’re the queens and maybe they are. I’m good with that. I’ve always preferred being a princess.
I start to reply, but Leslie gets out in front of me. “Let’s play like kittens tonight girls, not cats. It’s bad enough we have to share space with the passarounds.”
“I like you,” I tell her.
She grins. “I like you too.”
Jess gives Leslie a mock-frown. “I saw her first. She’s mine!”
