You have got to be shittin’ me.
The fuck was she doing here?
I took the steps two at a time, pissed as fuck she was sitting at the bar flirting with my right-hand man. The same bar where she’d draped her legs around my neck while I ate out her pussy not too long ago. I hit the ground at a near run as the two of them smiled at each other, their faces close. The house lights dimmed as the announcer tapped the microphone, testing its frequency for the first fight of the night. They had yet to notice me approaching the bar. Rage slammed into my chest like a heavy weight. My body count tallied two tonight; the way my heart was pumping the closer I got to them, that number could easily change to three.
“Tell me, Odie. What brings you here tonight?” Ferdi asked.
A low growl rumbled from inside my chest. I stood toe to toe with my closest friend.
“She came for me,” I snarled.
Motherfuckin’ Mine
Otelia startled at that sound of my voice. Her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. The dress she wore was a cheaply made knockoff, but she was working that shit to its fullest. Hours of standing on her feet serving plates of hash made her toned legs stand out the most. I could almost feel them wrapped around my back as I drilled her tight pussy with my hard cock. Ferdi, that bastard, raised a questioning eyebrow, but instead of moving away, he threw his arm over her shoulders. I wanted to take a bat to his head and wipe that arrogant smirk right off his fucking face. I might be in the market for a new second if he kept that shit up.
“Otelia Mae.” I used her full name.
“Mac.”
“I take it you two know each other?” Ferdi asked.
“You could say that,” Otelia explained. “I was invited to his penthouse once, as a guest, not as a kidnapping victim or anything. We dined on expensive food and wine, did each other’s hair, told a few bad jokes. Good times.”
“I see,” Ferdi replied, the cogs in his brain working overtime to figure things out. “Darragh here doesn’t invite too many friends to his place. What made you so special, Odie?” He leaned in and brushed his finger along her bare shoulder.
I had enough of his bullshit. My hand shot out and latched on to Otelia’s upper arm, yanking her sexy ass clear off the barstool. She stumbled on those high-as-fuck heels before I steadied her with a stiff arm. As soon as she was upright, I maneuvered her behind me and away from the asshole who wanted in her panties. He got the fucking drift. Flesh pounded on flesh as the two fighters squared off in the center of the ring, the brutal echoes the backdrop to my need to claim. The crowd’s boisterous cries for blood didn’t drown out the soft pants coming from Otelia’s lips. Her body radiated with heat, either from the closeness to my body or the action taking place in the ring. I’d told Ferdi she was there for me, and by the way her pulse had ratcheted up, I’d say my guess was spot the fuck on.
“Come to the office in about an hour.” I pinned him with a hard look. “There’s some shit we need to discuss after I take care of Otelia.”
“Maybe we should take care of her together, say, over a nice bottle of champagne? Two big heads are always better than one, Darragh.”
I stepped right up into his grill and bared my teeth. “Not now, not fucking ever. You got me?”
Something akin to understanding flashed in his eyes before he dipped his chin and took his leave. I was sure I’d be catching a lot of shit from Ferdi later. My refusal to share Otelia might be misconstrued, and he’d no doubt have a lot of questions. I just wasn’t so sure I’d be willing to answer them.
“That was rude, even for you, Mac,” Otelia bristled beside me.
“Did you come here for him?” I leaned in closer. “Or for me?”
She squared her shoulders. “I came for myself.”
Fuck, she was beautiful. That fire in her riveting blue eyes set my cock on edge. I remembered the kiss we’d shared the night of the bare-knuckle fight at Buck’s junkyard. The way her body melded against mine as she’d initially struggled against my assault. Then finally her acquiescence, the feel of her soft tits pressed between us. It was both heaven and hell to let her go. Selfishly, I wanted another taste of those pouty lips, a pleasure I wouldn’t deny myself.
I offered Otelia my hand. “Come. The view is much better from the front.”
She didn’t hesitate to place her small hand in my larger one. Such a brave little thing, my curious little kitty cat. All eyes were on us as I led her past the crowd of rowdy onlookers surrounding the ring. Security prevented anyone from getting within ten feet of the platform, but they damn sure made room for me, allowing us through before resuming their post.
AGHHH!
EEESH!
IMMHH!
This close to the action, you could almost feel every cracked rib, broken nose, and busted lip. Sheer savagery of two opponents wanting to kill each another and win the purse. Otelia’s eyes grew as large as saucers. Both thrilled and repulsed at the same time, she visibly flinched with every hard blow. I slid in behind her, my arms circling her waist at the same time pulling her closer against my chest. She shuddered, a desperate sound that spoke to her vulnerability at my intimate acquaintance. I ground my hardness against her tight ass and whispered huskily near her ear. Her breathing grew ragged.
“Fighting is so much like fucking, wouldn’t you agree, Otelia?” I peppered soft kisses behind her ear, the sweet spot, as I liked to call it. “You need stamina to go the distance if you expect a knockout. Strength to render your opponent quaking and boneless. More importantly,”—I pushed further into her, catching her earlobe between my teeth while splaying my palm along her ribcage just below her breast—“you need power and control if you want to give a pussy the proper beatdown.”
“Hmm…Darragh,” she mewled.
“Is this the real reason why you came to me, Otelia? You missed the feel of my cock? Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t want this.”
The little minx reached around and stroked my dick while I paid special attention to her exposed neck. We moved as one, in a crowded warehouse surrounded by people, but in that moment, it was just the two of us. The yearning to bend her over and fuck her ringside was strong, stronger than anything I’d ever felt in my life. Until she pulled away.
“I can’t do this, Darragh. I made a huge mistake by coming here tonight. I thought…”
I ran a frustrated hand down my face.
“This isn’t the place to look for love, Otelia. Now, run along to where it’s safe and sincere men will line up to do your bidding. You won’t find that here.”
One touch of her cheek was all I would allow myself before dropping my arms from her waist. I felt cold the minute she left my embrace and started to walk away. Her beautiful blue eyes had lost their luster. One glance, and she was gone. The background noise intensified as the announcer declared the victor of the match. The night’s winners congratulated each other with high fives and fist pumps while the losers ripped their betting slips to shreds and dumped them bitterly on the floor. After everything that happened tonight, I knew exactly where I belonged in that scenario—smack dab in the loser’s pile.
Knuckle up, motherfuckers…
CHAPTER 22