Chapter Ten

Stormy

We stood in the foyer of High Protocol.

“Relax.”

Holy shit. Bullet’s voice, edged with smoke and whiskey, sent a shiver along my spine, and his lips against my bare shoulder whispered silent promises against my skin. His fingers slipped into the cutout made by the straps of the dress, his touch branding me as his.

“You’re trembling,” he said.

With his hand on me, and his body pressed against me, my nerves were more about us than the reason we were here. I swallowed my anxiety and leaned into him.

We were about to meet people who knew Emerson. What if Torch was wrong? What if whoever we were meeting were associates of the same mafia bosses that owned Emerson? What if they tried to take me from Bullet? What if they hurt him for helping me?

The what ifs had my chest tight and my stomach in knots.

“Breathe, Stormy.”

“I’m trying. I’m scared. ”

While Torch spoke with the security guard at the door, Bullet pulled me closer and aligned my back to his chest.

I wasn’t bulletproof. The scent of leather, cigarettes, and the spice of his cologne hit my nostrils and slipped like an intoxicating elixir through my veins. I pressed closer, nudging the ridge of his dick with my ass.

“A shark can smell blood in the water,” he whispered close to my ear. “He’ll feed off the fear of his prey. He’s fast, and he’s smart. And he’s deadly in his element.” His lips stole along my neck. “I’m the shark.”

Torch laughed at something the guard said. I was too focused on Bullet’s breath and words, using them to calm the chaotic pounding of my heart.

“The Boss is ready for you,” the guard said.

Wearing black jeans and black shirts, Torch and Bullet made an imposing presence. Like Bullet, tattoos covered Torch’s arms and crawled up his neck. Neither wore their cuts. But both wore rings and scanned their surroundings.

Torch kept one arm around Gabi as he led us into an interior office. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t plush carpeting, luxury leather furniture, and sculptures on glass tables.

Bullet released me and stepped ahead with Torch. Two men occupied an interior office. Gabi hooked her arm with mine at the elbow and smiled.

“I know you’re nervous, but you look incredible. ”

I smiled. Gabi had helped me get ready. The dress and Bristol’s lace-up boots fit the scene in the club. But Gabi had taken my look to another level. Dark liner smoked my eyes, my lips were deep red, and my hair was slicked back from my face.

She wore a leather skirt that barely covered her ass and rode low on her hips, revealing a tattoo on her pelvis of a crow with chains in its beak and wrapping its wings. Torch had a similar tattoo on his shoulder.

Gabi was nearly as tall as Torch with legs that went on for miles. Model thin, stunning features, she was an Italian beauty. She could’ve stepped out of the pages of a magazine, wearing a black half jacket over a red bra.

“The Boss is in his private dungeon,” one of the men said. “Everyone is here.”

I held tight to Gabi as we left the office through a private door and entered a corridor with polished marble flooring, black doors, and chrome fixtures.

Gabi lowered her voice. “High Protocol is a cross between a bar and an X-rated circus. After the meeting, we’ll go to the main room. It’s where the entertainment is. That was Ronan,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to the closed door. “He and Alex own the club. Alex is called Boss. The other guy is known as the Professor. He specializes in training subs.”

“No names in the club,” Torch said. “But this meeting is going to be private. I don’t know what to expect, but these mafia guys know we want to ask questions. No guarantee they’ll tell us shit. My experience with the Bruno men is complicated. Gabi speaks Italian so if there is any breakdown in translation, she’ll interpret.”

Gabi leaned into me. “Complicated because Hellers like to fight. You get two alpha-holes in a room, and the testosterone short circuits their brains. Torch isn’t a typical Dom, and I’m not really submissive. We’re into bondage and voyeurism.” She smirked. “He fucks me everywhere. What can I say? I’m not a pain slut, but I’m a slut for him.”

Butterflies flitted in my belly. I could relate. Catnip. I had become one of Bullet’s kittens hooked on his cock.

Torch glanced over his shoulder at me. “Outside of this room, no one will speak to you without Bullet’s permission. It’s not rude. It’s respect for a Dom and his submissive.”

Torch rapped his knuckles on the door. The electronic lock clicked, and he pushed the door open. I might not understand everything at play with these men, but this was Gabi and Torch’s scene, so I’d follow her lead.

Torch rested his hand on her back, but she stood demurely at his side.

Several men waited in the dimly lit room that resembled a small studio apartment. Two men in suits stood in front of what appeared to be an observation window. Two more men stood protectively near them. Bodyguards, paid muscle, men with guns who protected their asset. Another guy in faded jeans and a leather jacket sat in a chair, opening and closing a lighter .

The last man in the room, who reeked of wealth and authority, crossed the space. He paused in front of Torch, they seemed to share some secret, silent communication, and then he kissed Gabi on the cheek.

In the aftermath of Emerson, a tide of panic surged through me. Would any of these men recognize me? I scanned their faces, searching for any trace of familiarity. Two of the men wore suits, clearly brothers, with the same whiskey-colored eyes and air of confidence.

My heart raced. Shivers of dread, like the prickles of a scorpion, crawled over me.

Bullet slid his hand into mine and laced our fingers. “I got you, brown eyes.”

Torch brought the man closer to us. “This is the Boss.”

“In here and for this meeting, please call me Alex. Alex Ferraro. Luca is a business associate, his brother is here as a favor.” He smiled at Torch. “One he’ll eventually want reciprocated. I thought you were done getting into trouble.”

“Trouble always finds me.”

Alex extended his hand, ushering us deeper into the room. On the left, several plush chairs sat in a semi-circle.

“You know Luca,” Alex said to Torch. “This is his brother, don of the Bruno family, Marco Bruno.”

“We’ve met,” Torch said.

Marco set a tumbler of whiskey on the low end table and approached. “It is good to see you again.”

The men sat in chairs. Gabi walked to the window, overlooking the club below. I moved to join her, but Bullet held tight to my hand. “You okay? ”

I nodded, my stomach in my throat.

“I want you to sit next to me.”

The guy in the faded jeans grabbed a chair for me and positioned it closer to Bullet. “I’m Knox.”

“Thanks,” I said and sat down. “Madison Jones.” I figured they’d want to know the truth because of my connection to Emerson.

He smiled, nodded, and took the seat next to Marco.

Luca and Alex rounded out the half circle. The last man stood a few steps back from Luca with his massive arms comfortably crossed in front of his chest. His jacket gaped, revealing a leather chest harness and the butt of a big fucking gun.

“You wished to speak to me,” Marco stated.

Bullet sat with wide-spread thighs, slightly leaning forward, and a hard glare in his eyes. “I’ve got a situation, and I’m coming to you to make sure I don’t create a misunderstanding between us.”

“I’m listening.”

“I’m going to dispose of my problem. I’m confident he’s associated with the mafia, but he may not be one of your men.” He glanced at Torch and Alex, then he turned his attention back to Marco. “I’m not looking for trouble, but if he’s one of your men, I’m assuming you’re going to have an issue with me taking him out. I need to make sure you know it’s my problem and not my club’s.”

“Fuck, Bullet.” Torch raked his hands through his hair.

“I’ve got a problem, and I’m going to deal with it my way. This isn’t just about the shit that went down in the warehouse. Barras is a threat to her. That makes him my problem,” he said to Torch. “If Barras is one of Marco’s men, then he’s fucking involved. And this shit gets more complicated.”

Knox became agitated, bouncing his knee and clenching his jaw. With a slight movement of his hand, Marco calmed him.

“He’s got balls the size of boulders,” Knox said.

“I understand his anger,” Marco said. “No one threatens my family.”

“Then we have something in common,” I said.

Torch leaned forward in his chair and spoke to Marco. “If you were involved in trafficking or hurting females, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His focus turned to Alex and then Gabi. I was sure I was missing something as Gabi’s posture stiffened.

Marco leaned back in his chair. “Tell me. What do you want?”

“Emerson Barras,” Bullet said.

Marco turned to Knox.

“Low level transporter,” Knox said. “He used to work for Byrne at BrioFagan. They have similar tastes. They like their merchandise innocent and young.”

Innocent and young . Emerson’s words came back to haunt me. That moment when you suddenly have clarity. They called it hindsight, when choices and outcomes become clear. And in that instant, I realized I’d barely been eighteen when I met Emerson. He’d seemed surprised at my age. He’d teased that I could pass for much younger because I was small. My curves were nearly nonexistent along with my breasts .

He’d introduced me to a friend, an Irishman, who’d called me a petite beauty. I’d taken his words as a compliment. Innocent and young.

“Patrick,” I whispered. I hadn’t heard the name in a while, but that could have been the last person I heard Emerson speaking with.

Marco leaned toward me. “Sì, Patrick Byrne. If he is who you want, you can thank my family that he is no longer a problem—for anyone. BrioFagan Group is now associated with the Bruno family.”

“One less problem doesn’t eliminate Barras.” Bullet spun his skull ring on his middle finger. I noticed Marco did the same with a lion head ring.

Knox rubbed his hands together. “Emerson Barras is a piece of shit. Likes to think his hands aren’t dirty because he cleans up pretty. He’s a middleman for the Irish.” He turned to Marco, shrugged, and tipped his head. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

“Nah,” Bullet interrupted. “I don’t want the mafia involved in my business. And I’ll stay out of yours. I want to come to an agreement if that’s what we need. I got commitments to my club and my whores.”

Torch groaned and leaned his head back.

Bullet didn’t seem bothered by the facts. “When I take him and his muscle out, are you going to retaliate?”

“Florian Marseglia,” I said. “He’s usually with Emerson, but he has other business associates. They just bought the Landing Strip. ”

“I know the place,” Knox said. He leaned into Marco and spoke under his breath. “Orlando made an offer on the club.”

“Mars and Barras threatened my old lady,” Bullet said. “They’re dead.”

“Torch, I need to speak with you,” Alex said, and the two excused themselves from the conversation. “These negotiations don’t include us.”

A flare of heat burned through me. When Bullet had said Barras had threatened his old lady, he had to infer me, right? I mean, he was here because of me. And all the things he’d said about wanting to be with me. But Emerson and Mars had threatened Bristol. And Bullet had called her his old lady. Maybe the term wasn’t as serious as I’d been led to believe. Maybe it just meant the woman he was currently fucking.

Bullet smiled, but it wasn’t meant to disarm, rather the soft lilt revealed the dangerous man lurking beneath. “I just need to know how many graves I’m going to have on my property. I’d prefer not to make an enemy of the Bruno family, but no one is going to threaten her. I’ll burn down the city to get to him.”

Marco smoothed his pant legs. “This is my city.”

“You can thank me and a few of my friends for that.” Bullet hardened his tone. “Crawlers and the Toja Ortiz Cartel. Have you heard of them? Read the obituaries.”

“Take a breath, friend,” the man behind Luca said.

“Are we going to be friends?” Bullet asked. “Because I’m not here to make enemies. ”

Luca leaned forward. “We are always looking for trustworthy alliances. Your motorcycle club has a reputation. Perhaps there are ways we can work together.”

“That ain’t happening. Hellers don’t want anything to do with this. They’ve gone legit.” Bullet glanced at Alex and Torch as he rubbed his tattooed knuckles. “They aren’t a part of my problem with Barras. This is personal.”

“Keep your problem off my streets,” Marco said. “Mafia deaths make news. The new district attorney is a family friend. I’m a banker and a businessman. I don’t enjoy cleaning up other people’s messes.” Marco narrowed his gaze on Bullet. “Do you understand?”

Knox stared at me. Not in a lecherous way, but as if he was trying to remember how he knew me. Because if he’d been to the Landing Strip, he’d probably seen me dance.

“Got a problem?” Bullet ignored Marco’s question and focused on Knox.

“No problem.” His gaze raked down my body and paused on my boots. “You look familiar. Have we met before? I know Byrne and most of his associates, although I don’t know Barras.”

Bullet stood. “If you don’t want another problem, forget you know her.”

“Stormy, you should come join me,” Gabi said from the glass.

She may have been trying to douse the heated tension between Bullet and…everyone, but she managed to add fuel to the flames .

A smile curled Knox’s lips, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut. After hearing my stage name, no doubt he remembered exactly how he knew me. I excused myself from their conversation and crossed the room.

“He’s intense,” she whispered to me.

“Who? They’re all puffing like peacocks.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Except maybe Knox.”

“Make sure you’re ready.” Her words were soft and laced with concern.

“Ready for what?” While she spoke, I was intimately aware of Bullet with the mafia men. I couldn’t swallow down the unease that Bullet would escalate the tension already saturating the room. Men like Marco Bruno didn’t answer to anyone. They made their own rules, and I was learning that Bullet might be even more dangerous.

“For all this. When I met Torch, he wasn’t part of the Hellers. They were his past, but these guys never really leave the MC. They have a code the rest of society might not understand.”

“Were you ready for it?”

Alex and Torch had rejoined Bullet and the others. Marco stood with his hands in his pockets. Alex and Luca spoke, but I couldn’t overhear what was said. Bullet’s gaze met mine, sending a shiver down my spine. I couldn’t look at him and not want.

“No, I wasn’t ready, but I loved Torch, and then I saw what they do for family.” She leaned against the window, but her focus was on Torch and Bullet. “Bullet was there for me when my sister was in trouble. He didn’t know me or Pippa, but Torch is his brother. That’s all he needed to know.” She turned to me. “Bullet won’t be fighting alone either.”

“But I’m not serious with Bullet.” The dark ache seeping into every part of me revealed just how dangerous my emotions had become. “We hardly know each other.”

And what I did know scared me. Scared because, no, I wasn’t ready for my feelings for him. I needed to remember the only thing I had to be ready for was how much it would hurt to walk away. Because I accepted who Bullet was, and I could only be temporary for him.

“Alex gave us his dungeon for the night, but if you want, we can go down to the main floor.” She nodded toward the younger Bruno. “Luca will be there with his submissive, Tinker. My guess is Alex and Evelyn will stay for a little while.”

“You’re all into this?” The windows overlooked the main floor of High Protocol. Thirty feet below, people mingled. Lighting created dark corners, and other areas were lit with spotlights for demonstrations. A bar stretched along the far side of the club, and to the right, an observation platform gave a few people an unobstructed view of the entire room.

Gabi softly laughed. “Not until I met Torch. I’d gone to a bar, found my boyfriend”—she made quote marks with her fingers—“cheating on me and met a badass biker. We were going to be a one-night stand.”

Torch came up behind her and crossed his arm over her collarbone. “But she was too drunk to fuck.”

“So drunk I passed out and woke up in a bondage bed with a tattooed master of orgasms who talked about eating pussy like it was a food group and likes to fuck me in public.”

“And you fucking love it. Put your hands on the glass.” Torch opened his mouth over her neck. “Who are we watching?”

She scanned the crowd. Then her gaze shifted to me. A cyclone of hot, deviant butterflies swarmed my belly. Was she asking me to choose someone engaged in a scene or was the spark in her eyes insinuating she wanted to watch me?

“Huh? What?” I asked.

“Did Bullet talk to you about tonight?” Torch asked.

“Um, yeah, sort of. BDSM, double date with a Dom.”

Torch laughed. “Luca and the Boss are Doms. We play.”

“The BDSM community is small and protective,” Gabi said, but I had a hard time focusing on her words when I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the way Torch’s hands moved over her hips.

“There are rules.” She continued to speak as his fingers skated along her toned abdominals. She was soft and sensual, thin, with narrow hips, but her breasts filled her bra and crested the top.

He was grit and gangster with tattoos and attitude. His face wasn’t as hardened as Bullet’s. There was a hint of a smile on his lips and a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Bullet was all-consuming, intense and intimidating. He moved with the stealth and power of a predator as he crossed the room .

“If you want, we can go down to the main room,” Gabi said. “We’ll get a drink, watch a demonstration, and find a quiet corner. I think you’d be more comfortable up here in this private room with us, but don’t feel like you have to stay.”

“She’s trying to tell you Torch is going to fuck her against the glass.” Bullet wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me with him. “Fucking voyeurs.”

“Wouldn’t we be the voyeurs if we’re the ones watching?”

Torch wagged his brow and spun Gabi away from me.

Bullet led me to the chairs on the opposite side of the suite. “Don’t think about them. You’re with me.”

I could almost pretend we were alone in Alex’s dungeon. The room was divided into sections. Additional chairs must have been brought in for the meeting because they didn’t fit in with the minimalistic decor of the rest of the room. To the right, a wet bar and cabinets lined the wall, and to the left, spotlights illuminated a king-sized bondage bed.

“What did they say?” I asked as he settled into one of the chairs facing away from Torch and Gabi with me on his lap.

“Knox is a former soldier for the Irish. He had locations where girls were held. Stormy, they want an exchange of information.”

“I don’t know much. I can show them where I lived with Emerson.”

“They want names. I got the feeling they aren’t done staking their claim on the city. They weren’t happy to hear about the Landing Strip being sold. ”

Bullet loosened the buckle at the side of my breast. I glanced over my shoulder to Torch and Gabi. Oh shit. Gabi’s bra and jacket were on the floor, and her bare breasts were pressed against the glass. Two leather sleeves wrapped her arms from wrist to elbow, and Torch weaved them together behind her back.

“It’s one way glass. No one below can actually see her.”

No, but we could. They were beautiful together.

Men watched me dance. I’d exposed my body when I performed, but this was different. This was intimacy and trust between Torch and Gabi.

“Do you think Knox recognized me?”

“You know he did.” His hand slid along my thigh over the smooth fabric of the dress, and a low growl rolled from his chest. “You danced for him.”

“Yes.” I hissed the word, not because I had danced for men like Knox. My yes was because I wanted Bullet to keep touching me.

His fingers skimmed the contours of my stomach. “Did he see your pretty tits?” His palm covered my breast.

My abdomen quivered as his hand slid inside the dress. I leaned into his chest, and moisture flooded my core. Without panties, wetness slicked my thighs. “If was at the club when I danced, he saw everything.”

He pinched my nipple, squeezing as a quickening of breath shuddered through me. My chest concaved, curling in to fight the painful pressure on my nipple.

“Bullet?” Tears built behind my eyes .

“Shh,” he whispered, licked my neck, and continued to compress my nipple. The sting morphed into a heavy throb between my legs. “Did he have his hands on you?”

I shook my head, barely able to keep my thoughts with the sensations firing through me. “I never let the men in the club touch me.”

“Good.” He released my nipple, tugged the front of my dress down, and sucked my breast into his mouth.

Pain flared from tip to clit. I cried out, clasped his head, and anchored him hard to my breast. His tongue pressed against my flesh, and his hand slid under my dress.

Widening my thighs, I silently begged for what I needed, his fingers inside me.

But he had more questions for me. “Did you touch him?”

I could only breathe through the sensations surging through me.

“Stormy, did you have your hands on him? Did he get close enough to smell your pussy wet and ready for cock?” His nostrils flared as he drank in my scent.

“No.” I bit into my lip as his erection pressed into my ass. “Sometimes.” I gasped as his fingers inched closer to where I needed him.

“Sometimes what?” he asked.

“Sometimes—” I licked my lip and swallowed. My body rode the sharp edge of arousal. “Sometimes, when I’d give a lap dance, I’d have to touch the customer.”

“Did you rub your pussy over their cock? ”

“Yes,” I hissed as two fingers slid inside me, blurring the thin line between pain and pleasure.

“Did you think about fucking them?” He penetrated me with those two fingers while holding me tight.

Oh god, the rough pads of his fingers rubbed against the magical spot inside me. I shuddered with every plunge and pull. “No. Since that night, every time I danced, I thought of you.”

Without warning, my orgasm rushed over me. A hard spasm contracted my core, and the aftershocks milked his fingers as he pressed the heel of his palm against my clit and curled his fingers inside me.

I crashed my mouth onto his, gripped his shoulders, rode his hand, and kissed him filthy.

“This is my pussy now,” he said.

Slapping sounds echoed behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Heat bloomed beneath my skin, and yet a shiver chased over me. Torch had stripped, the muscles in his glutes flexed and contracted as he fucked a bound and gagged Gabi. On her knees, she was bent over, her face pressed into a padded mat on the floor. Arms were tethered behind her back, and a ball gag stretched her mouth. Tears leaked from her eyes as she writhed on the floor.

Kneeling, Torch pressed a hand to her back and fucked her from behind.

A little gasp escaped my lips.

Bullet cupped my cheek and turned my face to his. “Right here. Me and you.”

Thirty feet of space separated us from Gabi and Torch. “You want to fuck me in front of them?” Like he’d done with Scarlett…and Bristol .

“I know what you’re thinking. And it’s not the same. Not for them,” he said, indicating Gabi and Torch. “And it’s got nothing to do with anyone else. Get out of your head.” His voice lowered. “Torch is loyal to his old lady. He knows what I can’t prove to you. Not without you trusting me. I wouldn’t be here with anyone but you.”

I weaved my fingers through his silky hair. He had nothing left to prove. We were here because he was fighting for me. If he wanted to fuck me here or on the altar of the MC, he could. I was his. And I could show him. “Do you have your phone?”

He pulled his cell from his pocket and unlocked the screen. I scanned through his apps, opened Spotify, and did a quick search for a song from my dance playlist. I slid off his lap and took a step back.

With his phone on the arm of the chair, I pushed play, and the first beats of Pillowtalk by Zayn filled the room.

“Just for you, Bullet. Even when I didn’t know who you were, I was always dancing for you.”

I closed my eyes and let my body move to the sultry sounds of a song that reflected the fight in us. With a swivel of my hips, I slipped the chains from my shoulders. With each line of the song, I danced for Bullet, loosening the buckles, and slowly stripping out of the dress.

When our gazes connected, his devoured my body. I crept my hands over my breasts, slowly down my belly, and pushed the dress over my hips.

Wearing only the lace-up boots and with a seductive grind, I lowered to the floor, picked up the dress, and draped it over one of the other chairs in the half circle.

I danced for him. My body responded to the tease and the temptation. Using skills I’d learned from Bristol, but also dancing from instinct, I moved to the powerful seduction of the music.

For the next two sixteen counts of the song, I rolled my abdomen, simulating a slow fuck. One fluid motion moved into the next.

“Fuck, Stormy.” He shifted on the chair and ground his palm into his dick.

“Do you want to see how wet I am for you?”

“Show me.”

I sucked my finger into my mouth while gazing into his darkening gray eyes. Then with my hands on my knees, I dropped to a low squat and spread my thighs for him. Heat flooded my pussy. I touched the wetness, circled my clit, and then licked the essence of my arousal from my finger.

A guttural growl vibrated out of Bullet as he unsnapped his jeans, lifted his hips, and adjusted his dick. Arching my back, I crawled toward him, braced my hands on his thighs, then climbed into his lap.

He gripped my hips as I straddled him and gyrated against him, rubbing against the hard bulge of his erection with my soaked pussy. I was a kitten in heat, needing him to satiate the ache inside me.

“I need you on my dick.” His palms trailed higher, framing my ribcage, and his thumbs raked my nipples.

“It’s a sex club,” I said. “But I’m not sure if I’m ready for whips and chains and shit? ”

“Nah, just me spreading your thighs and eating your pussy before I wreck it.”

The way his gravelly, cigarette and whiskey voice seeped into me, the touch of his strong tatted and calloused hands, the rough burn of his whispers against my skin, and the way his eyes penetrated created a dark and intoxicating cocktail of need. The beats of the song matched the pounding tempo of my heart.

Naked, except for the boots, he had total access to my body. I closed my eyes and tilted my head as his mouth slid against my neck. The song slowed and came to an end.

My eyes opened and connected with Gabi and Torch across the room. They were silent but touching each other as they watched us.

A blush warmed my skin, and I tucked my face into Bullet’s neck and used his body to shield mine. I’d been absorbed in the dance, in Bullet, that I’d forgotten we weren’t alone in the room. Maybe that was how it was for Torch and Gabi.

“Fuck.” Bullet stripped off his shirt and held it for me.

I slid my arm into the short sleeves and the soft material draped my body. I lifted the collar to my nose and inhaled the scent of him.

Bullet’s arms banded around me. “I could watch you dance all night.”

I leaned over, tapped the screen on his phone, and queued up a couple more songs. The dark version of Chills by Mickey Valen and Joey Myron drifted from the small speaker. I slid off Bullet’s lap and led him to one of the chairs without arm rests. His shirt draped to mid-thigh, and the collar exposed my neckline.

“The room has Bluetooth,” Torch said. He tugged on his jeans, with the fly still open and crossed the room to the bar.

He adjusted the lighting, darkening the room even more. The colored lighting from the club beyond the windows created moving patterns and shadows on the wall.

Bullet opened his settings on his phone and connected to the room, then tossed the cell to the seat of the other chair. “Are you going to give me a lap dance?”

I teased him with a smile. “I am.”

Gabi came up beside me wearing Torch’s shirt. “Together?”

I licked my lips and nodded. Torch moved a chair about three feet from Bullet’s.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “I’ll need to follow your example.”

“Rule one,” I said to Bullet. “No touching. Your hands have to stay at your sides.”

“Nah, fuck that.” He lunged for me, but I stepped out of reach.

“Rule two. If you’re good, you’ll get rewarded.”

“I think we’ve both come to the conclusion, I’m not good.”

I moved around to the back of his chair and waited for Gabi to follow my lead. When she did, I ran my palms over Bullet’s bare chest, flicking the piercing in his nipple. “I disagree. You’re very good.” I nipped the lobe of his ear .

Gabi traced the crow on Torch’s shoulder, then licked the side of his neck. He reached into his jeans and pulled his cock upright.

“Rule three,” Gabi said. “No touching yourself.”

Torch flared his nostrils and took a deep breath. “Get the cuffs, baby. You’re going to have to lock me down.”

She flipped her hair and laughed. “Behave or no reward.”

I glanced down at Bullet’s lap. The snap of his jeans was undone, the head of his cock escaped the waistband, and the steel bar in the glistening dome caught the light. My mouth salivated. I hadn’t gotten on my knees for him, not while the image of Scarlett sucking him off still lived in my memory.

I wasn’t going to let her between us now. With my hands on Bullet’s shoulders, I spun to the front of the chair and lifted my leg over his lap.

I might have the grace and movements of a ballerina, but Gabi had legs for miles. When she danced over Torch, it was art with long lines and angles. But then she stumbled and crashed onto his lap. He gripped her hips to balance her.

“Fuck, dude, that’s touching.” Bullet pointed at Torch.

“My old lady is going to land on her ass if I don’t help her.”

Gabi snorted and pushed his hands away. “That’s it. One more word out of your mouth, and I’m going to gag you. ”

“Let’s negotiate,” he said with a teasing grin. “What’s the punishment if I touch?”

“I kick your ass in the basement,” Bullet snapped.

“Rule four,” Gabi interrupted. “No talking. Now, shut the fuck up.”

I leaned into Bullet. “You’re not going to be able to talk with your mouth full of pussy.” I started my movements slow in order for Gabi to copy me. I swiveled my hips in a figure eight, hitting a hard count when my pelvis neared his groin. Once she had the moves, I focused on Bullet, lifting the T-shirt just enough to give him a glimpse of my pussy.

Reaching between my legs, I slid my fingers along my slit and moaned as I dipped into my channel. With my fingers wet with cream, I painted his lips. He reached for my wrist then paused, growled, and dropped his hands to his sides. “You’re killing me.”

“That earns a reward,” I whispered into his ear.

Bullet

Fucking hell. Why had I agreed to this? I didn’t want to share her, not her dances, her breathy whimpers, or the sweet scent of her arousal. She was fucking mine.

She had me hypnotized with the sway of her hips, and the shadows and lights creating a kaleidoscope of color across her face. Her fingers gripped my thighs as she inched back and bent over my lap .

“Ah fuck.” Her tongue swiped across the tip of my dick. She hummed, flipped her head up, and slowly dragged her tongue across her lip. “Don’t fucking stop, brown eyes. Be a good girl and suck my cock.”

“What if I don’t want to be a good girl?” She leaned in and kissed me. My mouth opened for her. The kiss was hot, wet, and messy. And over too quickly. I wanted to grip her hips, set her over my lap, and slam her down on my cock. Instead, I mourned the heat of her body as she slid off me. Standing between my thighs, she lifted her arms over her head and rolled her hips.

Pivoting, she faced away from me. The song’s tempo changed. With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she straddled the outside of my thighs, braced her hands on my knees, and arched her back.

“Bad girls get rewarded, too.” Unable to resist her perfect ass, I lifted the shirt, exposing the taut muscle of her buttocks. With an open palm, I smacked her, then gently rubbed the sting.

She moaned, and her gaze shifted to Torch. He had his hands clasped behind his back to keep from touching Gabi as she swiveled her hips.

“Open your mouth,” she said to him.

When the fuck had she grabbed the whiskey? She tipped the bottle to her lips, then leaned over his face, and dribbled the shot into his mouth.

I grunted, gripped Stormy’s neck, and forced her eyes back to me. Fuck if I was going to let her look at anyone but me. “Eyes right here. ”

A slow smile curled her lips. Turning around, she then straddled my lap and opened her mouth over mine. Her tongue glided against mine as she sucked on my mouth. Lips meshed, her pussy rocked against the hard ridge of my cock, and her hands mapped my chest, her nails clawed my shoulders, and her palms skated off the edge to grip my biceps.

“You broke the rules,” she whispered.

“I’m known to be a rule breaker. Are you going to punish me?”

“Yes. Your punishment is to watch me come.”

“Christ.” Fuck her rules. I gripped her hips, helping her rock against me.

Faster. Harder. Breathy gasps gusted over her slightly parted lips. My girl was using me. Jizz leaked from my cock, and my balls were crushed beneath her.

I groaned as a tingle built at the base of my spine. She had me about to nut from the heat and friction. The beats of the music played in sync with the thumping in my chest.

Her body shuddered. I gripped her skull, jerked her lips to mine and kissed her deeper, swallowing her cries of pleasure as she came from grinding on my dick.

Slowly, her body softened against me, and her arms circled my shoulders.

“I’m going to need a drink after your rules and punishment,” I said.

“Downstairs in the club?” Stormy’s voice was laced with excitement. “Can we watch?”

A low chuckle escaped Torch. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to build you a bondage bed.”