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With one last hard thrust, a loud pop fills my ears, pain rips through my shoulder, bile fills my mouth, and darkness threatens.
“Austin,” I gasp through the pain, falling to the floor in a heap before the couch.
He steps back, huffing, looking at me with dead eyes. “I’m out.” He wipes the sweat from his face.
The realization of what his words mean take the last of my breath. Tears blur my vision of him walking away, slowly getting darker and darker until I see nothing and feel just as much.
MY PHONE RINGING STOPS ME MID-THRUST.
“Don’t stop, Gabriel,” Blonde Tits begs. At least she’s using my full name. I guess I shouldn’t complain. I don’t even know hers. Obviously.
I glance at the clock as my phone continues to ring.
I shouldn’t answer.But what if it’s important?
“Fuck. Hold on.” I lean over her, slipping my phone out of my jeans pocket to see Austin’s name. “This can’t be good.” I sink in deep to be sure she’s not going anywhere. I’m gonna need to come after this conversation, I can already tell.
“Tamer,” I grunt.
“She’s all yours.” He’s out of breath and angry.
“Who’s all mine?” I don’t dare go where I think he’s heading.
“Frankie.”
My hips thrust at the sound of her name and the deceptive hope filling my chest. Tits moans and asks me to do it again. So I do, continually, my cock, getting harder and harder as my mind races to Frankie.
“I’m done. I’m out of here.” Austin ends the call before I can respond.
I drop my phone and grip Blondie’s hips like handles and drill her until she’s screaming my name, and I’m moaning for my Angel in my head. My release comes hard and devastating. Tits thinks it’s all her. She’d be livid if she knew it was for a woman who can never be mine. Bro-code aside, I’m no good for my Angel. She’s meant for heaven, and I’m destined for hell.
My cock still at attention, thoughts of Frankie to blame, I switch out the used condom for a new one. “Hang on. This is gonna be a hard ride.”
I should feel bad for using Tits, but she knows the score. And it’s not like she’s not getting something out of it. She’s come twice as many times as me, but I’m about to make up for it.
Hours later, the ringing of my phone has me jackknifing in bed, yanked from a dream so sweet with visions of Frankie sucking my cock. I look down to find myself balls deep in Tits’ mouth. “Fuck.” I fall back on the bed, my phone forgotten, close my eyes, and recreate the vision in my dream as my body fucks Blondie’s mouth like my next MMA fight depends on it.
Tits has just come all over my hand as my godforsaken phone rings again at two in the morning. “Jesus Christ, did somebody die?” I bark. “Hello!”
“Man, chill the fuck out.” Donovan’s voice has me sitting up straight. Not good.
I stand and search for my clothes as panic breaches my post-sex haze. “What’s wrong?” It can’t be good if Detective Donovan Harris, son of the former Lyndale Chief of Police, is calling me at this time of day… Morning.
“You need to get to the hospital.” He’s calm. Too calm. He’s using his detective voice. Not theI’m-your-friend-and-beer-buddyvoice I usually hear.
“What happened?”
“It’s Frankie.”
I fall to the bed as the blood drains from my head.Austin, what the fuck did you do?“What. Happened?” I am not calm. I’m in savage mode. Fighting mode.
“Your boy put her in the ER.”
My special forces training—the ability to think through the panic, the need to reach my target to save them—kicks in.
“Ten minutes.” I hang up, pull on the rest of my clothes, and say to Tits over my shoulder, “Be gone by the time I get back.”
Asshole in full force.Check.
