Chapter Four
Jake wasn’t a drinker by nature and never touched a drop when he was on the job. He’d seen too many good mates go down bad roads that way. Drink might be a soldier's best friend away from the lines, however it could seriously fuck up a career quicker than a Rupert with a chip on his shoulder if not kept in check.
But he was off the clock, and he seriously needed a drink.
The server behind the bar, an obvious toff with blond hair gelled into what Jake could only describe as a failed bird’s nest, only looked at him when he ordered a Black and Tan. It took three tries before he finally got the cocktail right.
“That’ll be eleven forty-five, sir,” he said with an obviously forced smile as he placed the infusion on the bar.
Jake all but gaped as he fished in his jean’s pocket for his wallet. “Eleven forty-fucking-five? I asked for a drink, not the time. Where did you get the beer, Japan?” Indignant, he put a twenty-pound note on the bar and scooped up the glass. “You could have at least made it a pint.”
The toff ignored the jab and took the note over to the till before bringing him his change. “Can I get you anything else?”
“At twelve quid a beer, not bloody likely.” But the server had already gone to another patron, so Jake just shoved the change back into his pocket and twisted round to face the dancefloor. Leaning back, he sipped the B&T, watching, instinctively looking for something he was utterly terrified of finding.
They'd met in a place just like this. She'd been working as a waitress in the club and he'd been out for a celebratory drink with the rest of the squad. She'd taken their drinks, and he'd engaged with a bit of banter. It had been completely innocent, but then they'd crossed paths in his regular cafe where he went for his tea break when working at HQ. Then again, at the end of the week, when he'd been grabbing a ready-meal, and she'd been on the till. It turned out she worked in a temp agency. It had been the end of her shift and seeing his choice of cuisine, she'd offered to make him dinner if he would walk her home. It might have been more banter, but it hadn't stopped him from offering to drive her.
The age gap wasn't an issue. He'd never asked why she never accepted the frequent offers of permanent employment from her numerous temp jobs. She’d never asked about his job or why he kept 'illegal' firearms in his drawer or had to leave suddenly sometimes, or why he always came back with cuts and bruises that would make Mike Tyson think twice. They'd just clicked.
Goddamnit, get a grip man. She’s gone. She left. You’re done. Get over it-
He froze.
There she was. Vickey Romano, gyrating on the dancefloor in tight skinny jeans that drew every eye to her luscious derriere and a long-sleeved, halter-style sweater that stretched across her cleavage while showing off her milky midriff.
Fuck, she was gorgeous. So gorgeous. Just seeing her tore at him, made his heart skip and his cock hard.
Her dancing was a thing to behold. Graceful. Seductive. Neither slow nor fast, but a pace that was entirely her own and utterly bewitching. She gave it her all, moving her hands up her body, through her long raven locks, to join over her head as she rocked her hips and abdomen, inviting someone, anyone, to come hither.
He watched her from his perch at the bar. Drinking in her every move and contour, observing her the way a falcon watches a rabbit in the meadow. But in the back of his mind, he remembered the feeling of those long legs wrapped around him. Those delicate fingers on his skin, in his hair, urging him on as he devoured her luscious pussy. Remembered the softness of her raven locks sliding through his fingers, the heat of her skin on his, the taste of her rosy nipples, the kittenish moans she made whenever he fingered her clit while fucking her from behind…
He wanted her, regardless. Wanted to go over and kiss her, take her, mark her somehow so all the world knew she was his.
He tossed back and drained the Tan & Black. Utrinque Paratus.
Ready for Anything
If it weren’t for the seasonal décor, one could almost have been forgiven for thinking it was anything other than a national holiday in less than an hour. Seven was bustling. The music was loud. The atmosphere sultry. And the patrons were hot and heavy.
Utterly consumed by the beat and flow of the music, Vickey let it sweep her away. She wanted to lose herself in the music, forget the pain, the loneliness.
This was what she’d needed. This freedom. The momentary release of knowing she was lost, just one amongst many. A girl like any other. They couldn’t touch her here. There were no hunters in the crowd. No one looking to claim the bounty on her head. No hunters, just watchers.
She could feel eyes on her from somewhere, hot and hungry, raking her from head to toe.
And suddenly, the music blaring out through the speakers changed. The chronic pop Christmas song switched to the sensual throb of a jazz storm, making her very core vibrate to its seductive rhythm.
It’s true what they say,
Love is blind,
so, we must find our way.
You know my name
Come into my world,
See through my eyes.
Hear my words,
And know what I say
Remember
We've been dreaming this life
But when you need me,
I’ll hold you close
Hold you tight
Love you forever
As we’re together this night,
I'm broken without you...
The eyes never left her as she let the music guide her, giving herself over to its sensual beat as the heat raked her from head to toe, sizzling across her skin. It was as thrilling as it was unnerving.
Exaggerating the swing of her hips, Vickey did a slow three-sixty, her eyes glancing left and right. Where was he? Her watcher? She could feel him, close by, and getting closer. Weaving between all these bodies, using the tight press to conceal himself. A predator, but not the kind she was used to. She could see that sort easily enough, leering at her over their date’s shoulder or over a glass, like dogs after a bone. Obvious. Pathetic. But this guy?
He was different. Exciting. It felt like she was dancing for him. Just for him.
Maybe she’d even let him pick her up, take her home. It had been weeks since she’d last gotten laid, and she needed it. Needed to bury these feelings. A hot, hard fuck had always been good for that, good for burying the pain and letting her forget, if only for a moment. Jake had been so good at that.
No, forget him. He’s a guy, just another guy. A big, hard dick with powerful hands and a wicked tongue. She didn’t need him. Any of the rogues here would do-
A shiver of awareness rippled up her spine, then hands were on her- large, powerful hands, enveloping her, rough fingers tingling across the skin of her belly, drawing her against a male body.
It’s true what they say,
Love is blind,
so, we must find our way.
As we play this game,
A game of lies
You know my name
You know my world
I am yours
So, you are mine
Remember
We've been dreaming this life
But when you need me
I’ll hold you close
Hold you tight
Love you forever
As we’re together this night,
I'm broken without you
So, let’s forget the lies
Break the wheel
And return to the light.
Something inside Vickey yielded under the aroma of raw masculinity, fogging her thoughts. The guy smelled of leather, sweat, and… something else, something so familiar it made her core throb. His hands were everywhere and nowhere. Brushing over her midriff, along the hem of her jeans, and up her ribs, exploring practically every bit of skin he could reach, ferreting out the spots that had her tingling at his touch. Still caught in the song’s beat, she arched like a cat into his touch, arms reaching back to encircle his neck, grinding against his groin, the weight of his arousal pressing along the curve of her derriere.
“Mmm… naughty girl,” he growled in her ear, close enough that she could hear him over the music but far enough away that she could feel his words on the slope of her neck. The words sent delicious shivers down her spine. That voice! That voice! She tried to turn, to face him, but he held her firmly, pressed tight against his body with the subtle dominance that drove her wild. No, it couldn’t be, not here, not him!
Then her mind went blank.
He was kissing her. Small, hot little kisses up her neck to the spot just beneath her ear, making her knees weak and pussy throb, yearning for attention. She matched him, pushing back, rubbing against him, relishing the feel of his hard body, her hands reaching, exploring the muscular ridge of his back and shoulders, nails biting whenever he teased that spot.
He was working her into a state, and utterly absorbed in the feelings his mouth was conjuring, she almost didn’t notice him fingering the fastenings of her jeans, popping the button.
“No!” she half gasped, half moaned, panic rising in her breast. This was going too far. He wouldn’t.
“Relax. Just go with it.” He pushed, suckling her pulse spot.
“Oh, God.”
He was insane. There were too many people. Anyone could see. All it would take was one glance, a curious look, but the risk only made her hotter. And the thought of it, getting finger-fucked here, in the middle of this club in Wapping, on the dancefloor, surrounded by all these people practically dripping with lust, had her legs spreading, giving his wandering fingers licence to slip into her jeans, beneath her panties.
Remember
I’m there for you
our love will always be true
It’s true what they say,
Love is blind,
So, we must find our way.
Break through the surface.
See through my eyes.
Know my heart
Say my name
We can save it
We can be it
Take my hand
And I’ll hold you tight
“You’re so wet.”
She could practically hear his smirk as he ever so gently brushed a finger across her folds. Not hard enough to enter her, but still enough to collect some of the creamy dew seeping down her thighs and tease across her clit in small circles.
Her moan was throaty and desperate, her hips rolled, seeking more contact. “Someone might see.”
“Yes, and that makes you hot, doesn’t it?” he growled in her ear, so close and low now it was entirely dangerous and exciting, like sex given voice. “The thought of being watched, of getting caught…”
Goosebumps rose all over her body. The music was loud, reverberating around the club, blending into white noise amidst the holler of the bodies enveloping them, but Vickey's attention was fixed on that voice. She didn't miss a word, his every syllable pushing her into sensory overload as those fingers, those damn wicked fingers, rubbed up and down her slit. He applied just that little bit of extra pressure each time he touched her clit and then dragged his finger downward, until she could feel her body opening, his fingertip dragging along her inner tissues.
“Don’t!” she whispered in a voice much too husky to pretend she didn’t want this, want him.
Whilst one hand was doing such wicked unspeakable things with her pussy, the other was reaching up, coarse fingers sliding up under the hem of her sweater to brush the underside of her breasts, teasing and feather-soft. It turned her nipples to stiff, almost painful peaks, yearning for attention. She didn't need to look to know her arousal was visible through her sweater.
“No! We can’t mmm… Stop… Don’t stop. No!” Her body throbbed and clenched around his finger when it pushed inside, penetrating her to the knuckle, and she made no effort to hide her wanton grinding on his palm.
Vickey should have been embarrassed, even ashamed of her responsiveness. She was letting this complete stranger do and say these naughty things to her, but he was right. Just the thought of doing these things here, in such a public place, where anyone could see… It was more than just thrilling. It was pure addiction, a fire in her blood that drove her wild.
“That’s it, love. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Panting from the feelings he was evoking inside her, she stubbornly shook her head, refusing to answer.
“Oh?” Though he tried to sound abashed, his hold on her never slacked and she could practically hear the grin in his voice. The sexy bastard was enjoying this, enjoying baiting her and making her bend to his whim. “If you want me to stop…” He began to withdraw.
“No!” Her thighs snapped shut around his hand.
“Oh? So, you want more?” His finger curled inside her, swirling leisurely, stroking her insides.
“Yes!” It felt like an eternity since anyone had done this to her. Jake had been the last, and she would have given anything in the world for it to be him in this anonymous creature’s place, his hands stroking her, fingers inside her. But Jake was gone, off somewhere else, probably fucking some lucky little tart. She’d seen to that. So now she had to make her bed, and shag in it until dawn, until she’d worn herself out on this walking dildo.
And he was quite a dildo indeed. Hard as steel and straining quite vividly against the fabric of his jeans, she could practically feel the heat of him radiating through their clothes. The weight of his desire pushed up against her, grinding in that all so delicious way that had her rocking and grinding, fucking herself on his hand. “Yes! More! I want… more!”
“Naughty girl,” he purred, the low throb of his voice coursing through her as she thrust against his single digit, trying to incite him. Then her mind was blank, lost in a whiteout as his mouth fell upon hers, swallowing her moan as he pushed a second digit inside her, thumb pad rubbing circles over and around her clit. And all the while, his tongue mimicked the movement of his fingers, swirling and spinning, flitting in and out of her hot cavern.
It was too much.
Too good.
Then suddenly he was gone.
No! Maddened from her closeness, her eyes snapped open to meet a hauntingly familiar pair of cool blue eyes. “Jake.”
He’d let his hair grow out until it almost reached his shoulders and shaved his goatee. But there was no doubt. It was him.
“Hello, angel.” He grinned that devastating grin that never failed to make her wet for him and had her thighs rubbing together of their own volition, desperate to rekindle the contact he was denying her. “Does it really turn you on so much? Getting finger-fucked here? Where anyone could see? Maybe some already have…” The dishevelled look suited him. Made him look younger, enhancing the strong lines of his jaw, and, if it was possible, even more dangerous when combined with his black leather jacket, jeans and shirt. “How ‘bout we really give them a show?” And to her horror, he brought his hand to his lips, the hand that had just been buried in her jeans, buried inside her, and licked one slick and shiny finger- tasting her in the middle of the crowded dancefloor.
She came.
Remember
I’m broken without you
You want to save me
But together we’re stronger
Together
What’s broken can be fixed
But my love for you
Will never die.