Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Mick
Seven years earlier
M y head throbs in time with the beat of the music as I pay for my beer. With its purple and yellow fluro walls, psychedelic floor and mood lighting, the bar’s a popular spot for selling drugs to students from nearby Sydney University.
A group of five people rolls in, laughing and squealing. My gaze locks on a curvy brunette. Her wavy, brown hair frames a mischievous face and expressive, whisky eyes that a man could get lost in for hours, days … weeks. There’s a stirring in my jocks, one I haven’t felt in too long, as I observe her unbridled enthusiasm and confidence. What I wouldn’t give to have all that energy focused on me. She makes eye contact and winks, then sashays past. I turn to watch her from behind. Her arse encased in skin-tight jeans increases the pressure in my pants. She’s knockout gorgeous.
“Hey, Sam, get over here, man.” Lance Blackwell, a second-rate drug dealer and all-round wolf wrapped in lamb’s clothing, crooks his finger at me from a table nestled in the corner. I hate being called Sam, but I can hardly use my real name. Unfortunately, I can’t ignore his summons. He’s the reason I’m at this trendy bar.
I move towards him, keeping the woman in my peripheral vision as she orders a drink. “How’s it hanging, Lance?”
“Never better, my friend.” He points at a seat across from him. “I got news.”
I slide into the chair. This is what I’ve been waiting for. While Lance is a small fry drug dealer, he has connections in high places. It’s taken nearly three years to gain his trust. His goons slink away. “It better be worth my while. You know I hate this place.”
“You need to loosen up, my friend.”
His tone borders on insolent. That won’t do. I shrug off my jacket and flash him the insignia of the Leadbetter cartel that’s carved into my right forearm. He has the good sense to look away and fidget. It’s me reminding him I have a bigger dick, so to speak. While I may not be in Leadbetter’s inner circle, I’m a respected member of the middle echelons. Which means I’m well above this scum in the race to the top of the sewer.
I glance in the woman’s direction, but she’s engrossed with her friends, talking animatedly about something that has them all in stitches. Her smile is as bright as a supernova, drawing me in.
I shake my head. This is not the time to be distracted by a pretty face. I turn my attention to Lance and tap the table. “What have you got for me?”
He pulls a small brown box from his coat pocket. “A-grade coke all the way from Columbia. Thought you guys might be interested.”
“We already have our own supplier. Why would we want yours?”
He leans towards me. “I have it on good authority that this is the Sicilians’ major source. If someone else were to offer the Columbians a more lucrative deal, then …” He opens his palms. “It would fuck the Sicilians up big time.”
I keep my expression neutral. He’s not wrong. This would give Leadbetter a massive advantage. He’s been wanting to take the Sicilian mafia out for years, which is why I’ve been smooching this lowlife. He peddles for the Sicilians, amongst others. “And what do you expect for your troubles?”
“A modest cut. I’m not greedy.”
I snort. “We’re all fucking greedy, Lance. That’s why we do this.”
“Yeah, but I also want to stay alive. Getting in good with your boss is the best way of doing it. He’ll owe me one.”
Lance is kidding himself. The drug lord will happily take the intel and the increased wealth that comes with it, but Lance’s days are numbered. Leadbetter loathes snitches.
He opens the bag. I dip my finger in and taste. “It better not be cut with anything else.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have a death wish.”
Little does he know—he’s already sealed his fate. The only thing that can save him now is the cops. But not yet. Soon, we’ll be in a position to move.
Lance pockets the box. “I wouldn’t wait too long if I were you, Sam. There are plenty of others who’d be interested in this, but I’m giving Leadbetter first dibs.” He stands and melts into the crowd.
I swallow the laughter bubbling up my throat. The fool is delusional. As if he’s not going to give the kingpin as much time as he needs to decide.
The sexy brunette saunters towards the pool table, a glass of wine in her hand. Unfortunately, two of Lance’s goons join her with an arrogant swagger that suggests they’re confident they’ll get her high, or fuck her, or both. Like Lance, the men are prettily packaged, which makes them doubly dangerous. I want to belt the smug expressions off their faces, but I haven’t lasted this long undercover by losing my cool .
I eat up the short distance and pick up a cue stick. “How about me and the pretty lady against you two?”
One of the guys, Leo, sneers. “How’s about we play with the little lady, and you fuck off?”
I smack my hand on the pool table, making sure the ink is front and centre to remind them who they’re messing with. “And how about you show some manners around a lady?”
“Come on, boys. Put your swinging dicks away.” The woman links her arm with mine as if I’m some gentleman suitor and this is a fancy soiree. She’d be tripping over herself to return to her friends if she knew what sort of men we are. “How about I be yours for the night …” Her voice trails off and one eyebrow lifts.
“Sam,” I say, the false name coating my tongue like used sump oil.
Her lips curl to the side, and she winks. “I’m Jules.”
Up close, she’s even younger than I thought. I must have at least a decade on her. But my dick doesn’t care about the age difference. It surges against my zipper, fully on board with the not-so-subtle invitation beneath her words.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the second goon add something to the woman’s drink. And to mine. Fucker. I pretend to stumble and sweep my arm out, knocking her glass and my beer bottle over, their contents spilling onto the felted pool table.
“Sorry about that.”
The dirtbag snarls. I resist the urge to smirk. Jules shocks me by grabbing my hand. She glances at the wet felt, then at Leo and his mate, her grip tightening. Maybe she’s not as na?ve as I thought.
“I don’t feel like playing now.” She tilts her head, those striking brown eyes knocking the breath from my lungs. “Do you want to get out of here?”
If I was the sort of man I’m pretending to be, she’d be in real danger. But I’m not. And there’s no way I’m saying no. Partly because I can’t stand the thought of her around these pricks, but the other reason is making its presence painfully known in my jeans. It’s been too long since I got laid, and I have a hunch Jules is going to give me the ride of my life.
We check into a nearby hotel and tumble through the door, all wet kisses and groping.
Jules tugs at my T-shirt. “Too many clothes, Sam.”
I peel my shirt off while she makes quick work of her blouse and tosses it on the floor. Her tits overflow the red lace bra, and my cock stands further to attention, if that’s even possible. She flicks the catch, and the flimsy material goes flying.
More blood rushes to my groin, and all moisture flees my mouth. Jules’ tanned breasts are clearly more than a handful. I itch to latch onto the dusky nipples, but she leans back a little, her gaze locked on mine as she plucks them with her fingers.
Fucking hot.
“Get rid of all the clothes and then you can touch,” she says.
I don’t need to be told twice. I shuck my jeans and jocks in one swift movement, while Jules sheds the rest of her clothes. My dry mouth becomes even drier than the Sahara Desert as she stands there, hip cocked, inviting me to stare. And stare I do, torn between ogling those luscious breasts and dropping to my knees to worship the bare juncture of her strong thighs.
Jules does her own share of gawking, her eyes widening as they track over my body. She steps closer and traces the tattoo on my forearm. “This is an unusual design. What does it mean?”
That’s the last thing I want to talk about.
I shrug. “Nothing special. I just liked the look of it.” I despise it, but there’s no way I’m telling her it’s the insignia of a drug cartel.
She surprises me by encircling my dick with a firm grip and stroking it from balls to tip.
I shudder. “Jesus.”
Precum leaks from my cock as she continues to stroke.
I still her hand with mine. “I’ll come all over you like a randy teen if you don’t stop.”
Her lips twitch as she slides her palm up and down my shaft, brushing my balls with her fingers on every pass. “That doesn’t sound all bad.”
“But I want to come inside you.”
“And what will you do if I ignore you and keep going?”
There’s something about her teasing tone that has me uttering words I’ve never said to a woman before. “I’ll punish you.”
Her pupils dilate, and she licks her lips. “Ooh … That sounds scary.” She yanks on my cock harder. Christ. I meant it when I told her I’d come all over her hand.
“Are you asking to be spanked?”
She rubs her thumb over the sticky tip. “Maybe.”
I walk her towards the bed. She falls backwards onto the mattress.
“Is that maybe yes or maybe no?”
She spreads her legs and raises her arms above her head. “For Christ’s sake, Sam. Yes. I’ve been a bad girl, and I want you to punish me.”
I can’t believe we’re doing this. We’ve known each other all of an hour. But nothing has ever felt so right. I stroke my cock. “Turn over.”
She lifts her chin, something primal flaring in her eyes. “Make me.”
Sweat beads across my brow. If I don’t get control soon, it’s going to be all over before we start. I lightly tap the bundle of nerves poking out from between her smooth, lower lips. She groans and throws her head back. Juices leak from her opening. “That’s no punishment, Sam.”
Alright then. Time to see if she means it. Lightning fast, I roll her so she’s face down. I keep one hand between her shoulder blades and the other one on her arse. She muffles a scream into the pillow and squirms, but I apply enough pressure to stop her from escaping my grasp.
I lay my body across hers, my dick nestling between her butt cheeks and whisper in her ear. I need to be sure she means it. “Do you really want me to spank you?”
“Yes. How many times do I have to tell you? Yes, yes, and yes.”
I pull away and slap her arse—once on each cheek. The crack of my palm on her flesh is like a whip in the quiet hotel room.
She flinches with the impact. I freeze. Did I hit her too hard?
Jules glances over her shoulder, her face flushed. “Is that all you’ve got?”
The come-hither look in her eyes erases any lingering doubts that she isn’t into this.
Yes!
I smack her three times in a row, then slip my finger between her legs. So fucking wet.
“How’s that?”
“Moderately better.”
Man, she’s got a mouth on her. I can’t wait to give her another use for it. I deliver a flurry of smacks, her arse lighting up cherry red. I massage the tender flesh. It’s hot and firm and begging me to nibble. So I do.
“God, that’s so good. Fuck me, Sam.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice. I release her and dig a condom out of my discarded jeans. Jules rises to all fours, her head tilted towards me. I roll the latex on and line myself up with her entrance .
“You sure about this?”
She rolls her eyes. “I had to pick the one bad guy with a conscience. Yes, I’m sure. For Christ’s sake, fuck me.”
My cock softens. I’m no stranger to one-night stands, but it bothers me that Jules might have chosen me because she thinks I’m on the wrong side of the law. Would she want to have sex with me if she knew I was a cop?
She wiggles her backside, and my erection responds, overriding the uncertainty in my brain. Does it matter? I can’t even give her my real name. It’s not like we’ll see each other after tonight.
I slap her arse and slam inside her. Lose myself in her tight, wet heat. Jules pushes back against me, adding to the friction as I pump in and out of her. My balls tighten, and as I suspected, this is going to be embarrassingly short. My fingers find her clit and rub. She’s just as jacked up as I am, both of us coming in wave after wave of pulsating bliss.