Don’t You Pucking Dare (The Blackridge Reapers #2)

Chapter 29

"I’ll take you to the shower," Brody demands.

I put out a hand. "No," I mutter. "I need a second… alone."

Now that I’m not being fucked, I feel the full force of my hangover. I think I might throw up. Brody follows me to the bathroom anyway. I keep him at an arm’s length.

"Please, Brody. I need a fucking second! Get out!"

He leaves the bathroom, and I’m thankful because I feel like death. When I look into the mirror, my eyes look like death. My chest starts to bounce at the sight. Since when did everything get so fucked up?

The water can't be hot enough to burn away tonight's memories. I scrub Brody's bites from my neck and then I wash out his marking that leaks out of me, watching it run down the drain. The images of my mom haunt me—I need to know if she's safe, if she's alive, if everything she warned me about was real. The steam turns my thoughts foggy, or maybe that's the trauma settling in.

Either way my fucking head is pounding like I’ve never experienced before. I can’t even think straight. I think the steam of the hot water isn’t helping because suddenly I feel like I’m being suffocated. It’s hard to breathe.

The bathroom door opens, then locks. My chest tightens with irritation as I force myself to calm down. After waking me with his dick, Brody can't even give me fifteen minutes alone?

But I can’t be mad right now. Not when I need medicine for this raging migraine. It’s about to make me pass out. I reach for my towel, but it's gone. The shower curtain slides back, letting cold air shock my skin.

But it's not Brody.

Jack leans against the sink, my towel dangling from his fingers. His eyes travel my body with deliberate slowness. "Duchess."

I don't cover myself. This man wore Brody's identity like a shield and helped me in the crossfire. Hours ago, he was willing to die in Brody's place. The moment he stepped into that chamber, something shifted—respect blooming where hatred used to live.

"Jack." I keep my voice low. Water pools at my feet as I step from the tub. No point in false modesty now. "Need something?"

His gaze locks with mine, intensity rolling off him in waves. The air feels charged between us. I still feel Brody inside me, but something darker stirs—a debt that needs paying, perhaps. Or just the need to feel something other than numb. As I watch him closely, I wonder… is he going to ask nicely? Or would he fuck me in my sleep like Brody did and give me no choice?

My head spins. Again, it’s either the hangover or the steam, but Jack offers the towel. I take it carefully, watching him like the predator he is. Jack's always been unpredictable, violent in ways different from Brody's calculated cruelty. We’re speaking only in body language. And if I’m being honest, I don’t care if he’s come to tell me I have a debt to pay. My body aches, my head is sore, and I don’t care if he fucks me right here, right now. I need to feel something other than this pain. I have a pit in my stomach that Rick Kemper did something with my mom, and he’s not alive to ask.

Once I dry my body, I drop the towel. "Excuse me."

He steps aside, giving me access to the mirror. I find toothpaste and put some on my finger since I don’t have a toothbrush. As I lean over the counter, I catch Jack's reflection. His eyes fix on where the towel no longer covers. He’s looking at my ass as heat pools low in my belly.

I hate that my body responds to him. Hate that part of me wants to thank him for his sacrifice in the only currency that seems to matter in this world. Hate that even with Brody's claim still fresh, I'm considering adding another monster to my collection.

"Brody is probably going to check on me soon," I mutter, taking the toothpaste and rubbing it on my tongue. I turn around to give him a better view of me. I keep my finger in my mouth, sucking on it as his eyes take me in. I glance at myself. I still look dead. "You haven’t said a single word. What is it, Jack?"

His eyes devour me, memorizing every inch. When he steps closer, his smile carries a dark promise. By the look in his eyes, he knows he has me. I think he might ask nicely. "My room is the first door on the left."

"As far away from me as possible," I counter.

His eyes search mine, knowing that the air between us has shifted between us—potential energy waiting to explode. We're playing with fire, and we both know it.

"You should go." I turn back to the mirror, giving him the view he wants. "Before we get caught."

He adjusts himself through his jeans, making sure I see. "I don't give a fuck about Brody."

"I know you don’t, but I do," I admit. It doesn’t matter how he wants to play this game, I need to play it carefully. "But until he asks me to be his girlfriend..." I let the implication hang. Let him think I'm just a whore playing games. Better than letting anyone see how broken I really am. "I can do whatever I want."

He leans close enough that I feel his breath on my neck. He whispers, "Tonight."

The bathroom door closes behind him, leaving me alone with choices that feel like weapons. Would Jack be gentler than Brody? More violent? Does it even matter anymore? Brody promised me safety, but he’s also the same monster who tied me down and tortured me, then he fucked me awake and has always said that he owns me. Jack is just a lustful fucker that wants a taste. If I give that to him, maybe he’ll back off. I don’t see any future with Jack, and on the other hand, Brody will keep me until he’s done with me.

Brody looks up from his phone when I enter the bedroom, his eyes catching on my naked skin. He's laid out clothes for me—another way to show he cares and more thoughtful than he let’s on.

"Everything alright?" he asks.

"Yeah." I slip into his clothes, let him kiss my hair when I slide under the covers.

"My time to shower," he murmurs, leaving me alone with thoughts of another man.

My father called me a whore. Maybe he was right. Maybe it's in my blood.

After his shower, Brody wraps his arms around me, being gentle when I least expect it. He plays with my hair until he falls asleep, an unexpected tenderness almost worse than violence.

But I can't shut my brain off.

Every time I close my eyes, I see it again—my father dropping to his knees, blood blooming across his perfect suit. The strange man who killed him like it was nothing. Gunshots echo in my skull, mixing with screams I can't shut out.

I study Brody's sleeping face, trace the ink decorating his skin. "Duchess," he murmurs in his sleep, and something in my chest cracks. Even unconscious, he's claiming me. His lips part slightly when I kiss him, but he doesn't stir.

Careful not to wake him, I slide pillows into my spot. For a moment I wonder how many girls he's been with during those weeks of silence. Wondering why I care when I'm about to do something much worse.

My bare feet make no sound on the hardwood floors. First door on the left. My heart pounds as I open it, finding Jack wide awake, waiting for me. His smile tells me he knew I'd come. The butterflies in my stomach tell me I probably shouldn’t have.

I lock the door behind me. "So, I—"

His mouth crashes into mine before I can finish, tongue demanding entry. I yield to him, let my body respond to this new destruction I'm choosing.

"What the fuck am I doing?" I accidentally say aloud. His taste is wrong, his touch is wrong, his scent is wrong. It’s all wrong.

His lips travel down my body. "You want me," he mutters, but he’s wrong. Very wrong now that I’m in the act. "I finally get a taste of the sweet Duchess." He pulls off Brody’s shorts I have rolled up on my hips and licks my pussy, causing me to freeze. It feels so fucking good as I glance down. My head is still hazy, and I can’t believe this is actually happening. Jack’s head is between my legs, working his tongue against me, and it’s ironic. I open my legs a little wider, allowing him in. He’s about to eat Brody’s cum, and I’m giddy on the inside just thinking about it.

I lay down on the bed, spreading my legs for him. Fuck, it feels good. I start riding his face, burying him deeper to get a fresh taste of Brody. I throw my head back when he hums against me, causing my hips to buck. His tongue fucks me for a minute, and finally, my nerves are gone. I’m here with Jack, enjoying myself, and getting off on the fact that his face is between my legs. I could crush him with my thighs if I wanted to, so I squeeze his head with my legs. Then he enters me with his fingers and says, "You love this, don’t you, Duchess? You’re a fucking slut."

I readjust myself. "Stop fucking calling me that."

He crawls over my body, lifting my shirt. "You are a slut." He sucks on my tits, swirling his tongue around.

I inhale as his hands hold me in place. "Duchess. Stop calling me Duchess."

He licks my cleavage, pressing his hard dick against me. Then his face is in mine as he says, "That’s no fun. I love how pissed off you get."

"You just want what you can’t have."

He smirks, taking off his shirt. His tattoos catch my attention, and then he starts to unbutton his jeans. I watch as he pulls his dick out and pumps it a few times.

I watch in amusement. "This is never going to happen again because Brody will kill you."

He hits the top of my pussy with his dick a few times. The sight of his tattoos, muscular body, and dick are enough to make me wet. Not to mention that we shouldn’t be doing this. Brody would have him hanging in my closet if he saw what we are doing while he’s fast asleep.

Jack smiles, aiming into me. He slides in with one aggressive thrust. I moan out, holding myself in place.

He says, "Or he’ll kill you for being a fucking whore."

There’s something about him aggressively fucking me, using my body to get off that I’m reveling in. His dick feels so fucking good, and he knows it.

I reach for Jack’s body just to keep myself from moving, but he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. "Keep your hands to your fucking self."

Jesus Christ. This dick is actually crazy. He pulls my legs to his shoulders and doesn’t give a flying fuck if I’m flexible enough for it. He stretches me out anyway and then lowers himself to my face. "Why are you feeling generous with this pussy, Duchess? Hm? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He doesn’t even let me answer as he releases my wrists and holds my ankles above my head as he rails into me. Holy. Fucking. Hell. Then he swings my legs to the side and bites my nipple.

He says, "What I did tonight––"

"This is my thank you," I whisper, moaning. I can’t fucking help it. He’s deep inside me, pressing in as deep as he fucking can.

"I brought something for you," he says.

"Great. Now you’re getting me shit?"

He smiles, pulling out the vibrator wand that Brody used on me inside the chamber when he claimed me. It made me––

"I want you to squirt all over me." He starts the vibration. Sick fucker. Seeing me do that all over Brody probably had him coming in his pants.

"I don’t think I can," I begin to say, but he cuts me off.

"Oh, I’m sorry. Do you need an audience? Should I wake Brody up?" He leans up. "Hey, Brody!"

I stare at him. "Don’t you fucking dare. Keep your voice down! Are you fucking insane?"

He smiles, putting the vibration against my clit. I don’t refuse because it feels fucking amazing. My toes start to curl and I’m about to scream. Suddenly, it’s too much. Heat pools in my toes and it’s like a heat flash. It takes over my foot and now it’s crawling up my legs.

"Jack," I cry out, trying to stop the vibrator, but he holds it there. "Jack! It’s too fucking much." My voice is so high-pitched that I don’t sound like myself. And why are my hips rocking on his dick.

That gives him the permission he needs to start fucking me like a goddamn rabbit again. And he keeps it on my clit, pressing harder as I try to get it off.

With his dick pounding against me, and the force of the highest vibration, I can’t even help the sounds leaving my throat. This gut-wrenching orgasm that’s about to unleash is the biggest mountain I’ve ever climbed. And I can’t believe it’s on Jack’s dick. I guess this is what happens when I’m a bad girl. A very very bad girl.

"You fucking love this, slut. Fuck, you’re getting so wet." He leans in and whispers in my ear, "Fuck yeah. Wet just for me like the fucking whore you are."

The whore that I am.

My body releases as he fucks me harder and harder. The climax is too fucking much. I’ve never soared this high before. The idea that I shouldn’t be here was enough to get me off. Not only am I crying real tears, but my body betrays me by releasing my orgasm on his cock. Jack approves with the grunt of his voice and fills me with cum. It feels like a cup of liquid just left my pussy and thanked him generously for the good time. His grip on the vibrator finally wavers, and I throw it at the head of the bed where he can’t grab it.

He pulls out and laughs. "You always throw it after you come."

I sit down in the soaking bed. He grabs me by my legs and pulls me to him near the edge of the bed. I watch him carefully, wondering what the hell he’s doing. He leans down and licks my juice off my inner thigh.

"Jack," I warn.

He looks up at me and then stands, reaching for his clothes. "I told you… I wanted a taste of the Duchess."

"And what do you think?" I can’t stop my fucking words before they tumble out. Why the hell would I ask that? Subconsciously looking for his goddamn approval like the slut I am. I lean back, owning my words because it’s too late to take them back.

He buttons his jeans and leans in, stealing a glance at my pussy and says, "I’ve had better."

I stand up to hit him, but he catches my wrist and shakes his head. "Are you jealous, Duchess?"

I shake my head, pulling my hand back. "The only one jealous here is you, Jack. Now that you’ve had your taste, you won’t ever have it again."

His eyes stare into mine. "We’ll see about that."

And on that note, he picks up my shorts and throws them at me. I put them on and then he opens his door, asking me to leave. Embarrassed by the wet spot, I gladly walk to the door. Right before I step out, I look down the hall and say, "If you tell anyone about this, I’ll slit your throat in your sleep."

He laughs. "Don’t worry, Duchess. Secrets safe with me."

I walk out and he closes the door so fast behind me that it pisses me off. I didn’t expect romance, but he’s just as selfish as I thought.

I run into the bathroom and take another scorching hot shower. As the water streams down my body, my mind is still not thinking straight. I can’t believe I just fucked Jack.