9. Raf
CHAPTER 9
RAF
My adrenaline starts to taper off the moment Ava scampers away, leaving me feeling listless. I thought it would be more satisfying to torment the daughter of the woman I despise, but now that it’s over, the victory feels hollow somehow. It was too easy, and my fingers are still twitching to break something.
Like her pretty little neck.
“Think that was too harsh?” Wes questions, stuffing his flaccid dick back in his jeans and dragging up the zipper.
“Are you seriously asking me that?” I snap, whipping my head around to glare daggers at my friend. “You know who she is.”
Wes heaves a sigh, burying a hand in his blonde hair. “I know, I just didn’t expect her to be so… innocent .”
I snort a laugh. “Nothing about that girl is innocent.” Though I have to admit, Ava being a virgin is a curveball I didn’t see coming.
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly having a crisis of conscience,” Ford chuckles, clapping Wes on the shoulder. “At least you got your dick sucked. I’m dying over here!” He grabs at his crotch, the outline of his boner prominent in his jeans as he gives it a vulgar shake in Wes’ direction, who jumps away with a scowl.
“Don’t worry, Ford, you’ll get a turn,” I sigh, stepping over to the bar to pour myself a drink.
“What if she runs?” Wes asks.
“Let her. Unless my father miraculously starts answering his phone, she’s got nowhere to go.” I snatch a rocks glass off the shelf behind the bar, pouring myself a healthy measure of bourbon and recapping the decanter.
“Dude went off the grid,” Ford remarks, striding over to join me at the bar. “I put a track on his financials and phone activity, but so far, it’s crickets.”
“He knows he’s in deep shit unless he figures out where that shipment went or comes up with the cash to cover it.” I take a sip, relishing the burn of the liquor as it slides down my throat. “Which he won’t, because everything’s safely frozen in those shadow accounts if you did your job right.”
“Don’t I always?” Ford flashes me a cheshire cat grin, snatching up a bottle of whiskey. Twisting off the cap, he wraps his lips around the rim and takes a pull straight from the bottle.
The guy’s a fucking heathen, but he’s also a damn genius when it comes to IT. He can hack into anything without leaving a trace, which is a dangerous superpower for a psycho like Ford to have.
“By the time he figures it out, it’ll be too late,” I murmur, swirling the bourbon in my glass before taking another sip.
We covered our tracks well. Gideon’s off somewhere chasing false leads, trying to figure out who wronged him while never suspecting it’s his own son. I don’t know who he pissed off to put a target on his back, but they hired the right man for the job. My father taught me everything I know. Bet he never realized that by molding me in his image, he was also creating the catalyst to his downfall.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve gotta go get my dick wet,” Ford grumbles, pushing off from the bar. “I’ve got the world’s worst case of blue balls setting in.” He takes the whiskey with him, the neck of the bottle dangling from his tattooed fingers as he saunters toward the door.
“Any news about that fight?” I call after him, suddenly itching to get blood on my hands.
“Got you booked for next week,” he replies. “Still waiting to hear back from Benny about who you’ll be going up against.”
I grunt in affirmation as I grab for the decanter of bourbon to top off my drink. “Send Chels up if you see her.”
“Sure thing,” Ford laughs, yanking the door open and exiting the loft.
Wes strides over to poach a bottle of beer from the fridge beside the bar, eyeing me smugly as he pops the cap. “So she did get under your skin,” he chuckles, lips curling into a smirk. “You could’ve made her suck your dick, too, ya know.”
“I’m not interested in getting a crappy blowjob from a virgin,” I mutter.
“It wasn’t bad, actually,” he remarks with an amused smirk. “I’m kinda looking forward to round two if she doesn’t run.” He raises the bottle to his lips, wagging his brows.
I roll my eyes, snatching my glass off the bar and heading out to the balcony, doing my best to block out the shadows lingering at the edges of my vision.
I’m in control.
Dragging in a few deep breaths, I repeat the mantra in my head over and over until the shadows slowly start to recede.
The screechy pop music assaults my eardrums as I sink down onto the far side of the soft leather couch, Wes following a beat later and flopping down on the opposite side of the sectional. Moments later, three heads of blonde hair bob in my peripheral vision, and I look over to see Chelsea, Stella, and Blair scampering up the stairs onto the balcony. Apparently, it’s physically impossible for them to go anywhere without each other.
Stella and Blair stop to chat with Wes while Chels makes a beeline for me.
“What were you guys doing up here?” she asks as she slides onto the sofa. “I saw some girl running away like the building was on fire.”
I chuckle to myself and take a sip of bourbon, swishing it around in my mouth before swallowing it down. “Just playing with my new stepsister.”
Chelsea’s jaw drops, her blue eyes widening in surprise. “ What? You never told me you had a stepsister!”
“She’s not your concern,” I reply dismissively. “We’re dealing with it.”
Her brows draw together, a mix of irritation and suspicion flashing across her features. “How?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I bring my glass to my lips, taking a sip as Chelsea continues to eye me dubiously. Swallowing down the liquor, I turn back to her with an annoyed sigh. “I didn’t stick my dick in her if that’s what you’re asking. Not that it’d be any of your business if I had.” I gesture toward the other side of the sectional with my glass. “Wes had fun though.”
“Is that why you had Ford send me up here?”
I reach over to cup her cheek, thumbing her lower lip. “Don’t act like you didn’t come running for the chance to suck my cock, Chels.”
Desire flares in her eyes and she licks my thumb, gaze darting down to the obvious hard-on pressing against the zipper of my dark jeans. “Here?”
I give her a single nod, playing right into her insecurities and obsessive need to stake her claim on me. She’ll take any opportunity to publicly fondle my dick, asserting her superiority over all the other try-hards that proposition me on a daily basis.
Chelsea slides off the sectional to her knees in front of me, her nimble fingers landing on my belt, unfastening it, and popping the button on my jeans. I settle back into the leather cushions as she drags my zipper down and reaches into my boxers, lithe hand wrapping around my cock to pull it free.
I’m hard as a fucking rock– Ford isn’t the only one fighting a mean case of blue balls.
It has nothing to do with Ava herself. Any guy would be hard pressed to stand by and watch someone get a blowjob without popping a stiffy. At least that’s what I tell myself as Chelsea lowers her head over my lap, the tip of my dick slipping past the seam of her lips.
The warm wetness of her mouth sheathes my cock and a low grunt escapes me, my gaze flickering over to the opposite end of the couch. Wes and Stella are engaged in conversation, the latter purposefully looking away while Wes’ eyes ping back and forth between his twin and the show that Chelsea’s putting on. Blair, on the other hand, isn’t even trying to hide her interest. She’s watching Chelsea and me with heat in her eyes, a flush crawling up her neck.
She’s been thirsty for my dick since Freshman year, but I’m not particularly interested in Ford’s sloppy seconds, especially after he complained that she chafed him by using her teeth. My indifference toward Blair hasn’t stopped her from throwing herself at me, though, despite her claims that she’s Chelsea’s best friend. From the look in her eyes now, there’s no hiding the fact she wishes she was the one on her knees in front of me.
Chelsea pumps the base of my shaft in one hand as she continues to bob up and down over my cock, sucking and licking and pulling out all her best tricks to push me toward the finish line. I let my head fall back against the cushion behind me, eyes sliding closed. As soon as they do, I’m assaulted with unwanted images of my slutty little stepsister on her knees for my friend, my memory replaying that defiant look in her eyes when Wes shoved his dick past her lips, the little moans she made as Ford got her off echoing in my eardrums.
I sink a hand into Chelsea’s hair, tugging on the strands to direct her head over my lap, just like Wes did to Ava. She picks up her pace, and I shudder a breath at the sensation of her lips gliding over my shaft, her tongue swirling around the head. For a second I imagine that they’re someone else’s lips; someone else’s tongue.
Fuck.
My balls tighten, muscles going rigid as release crashes over me. A groan rattles from my throat as I blow my load down Chelsea’s, the greedy bitch slurping up every drop with enthusiasm. She licks me clean, then rocks back on her heels, staring up at me with a look of pride on her face.
“Dang, that was fast,” she comments, swiping saliva from the corner of her mouth with a thumb. “Guess I’m just that good.”
“Sure, babe,” I snort dismissively, tucking myself back into my boxers and fixing my jeans. Getting off should give me a reprieve, but I feel the shadows immediately start to creep in again, throwing back the rest of my bourbon and extending the empty glass in her direction. “Why don’t you go get me a refill?”
Chelsea frowns, snatching the glass from me and pushing up to her feet. “You’re a dick sometimes, you know that?” she mutters before scampering off to do what she’s told like a good little pet.
I just shrug, settling back onto the couch and gazing out over the party raging below. At all the fucking sheep casting wary glances up here, wishing they were in my place.
It’s good to be King.