Chapter 6
I pounded into the redhead, who was wailing like a banshee. The sound threatened to kill my erection, but all I saw was that bitch, Elin. Thrusting harder, I growled, “Take that, you whore. That’s right. I’m in control, and you are going to lie there and take what I give you, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, Gavriel. Yes!”
A moment later, I thrust into her one last time and let my release take over. When it subsided, I pulled out of her, pulled the condom off, and tossed it in the trash.
The redhead lifted her head, sitting up on her elbows. “How do you want me?”
“Clothed and out the door.” I barely registered the disappointment on her face as she got up. I tucked myself away before turning my back on her and walking out of the small office the bar manager used.
The sound of voices filtered down the hall as I made my way into the bar area. Over at the bar was my second, Harley, who was finishing up with the delivery driver for the latest shipment that had come in.
“Hey.”
I nodded at him in greeting as the driver headed out. Silently, we unloaded the supplies and refilled stock. When we had the crates separated, I hauled what needed to go into the storage room back and started putting it away.
A few minutes later, a squeal of a voice came through the door. “Harley, you tell that man he’s a fucking dirtbag.”
Harley huffed a chuckle. “And why is that, Sonia?”
Sonia. Groaning, I kept working. I didn’t want to deal with her. Which was exactly why I had nutted and told her to get the fuck out.
“He didn’t even finish me off. Just fucked me and told me to leave.”
I could practically see Harley lifting his eyebrows as he said, “So, why are you still here?”
“Seriously?”
A heavy sigh came from him. “Look. You know Gavriel. You got what you came for, his dick. Move on. You know where the door is.”
“Harley!”
“Sonia, leave. The fact that he didn’t literally toss you out on your ass with the mood he is in is a fucking kindness. Just go home, get your vibrator, and finish yourself off, alright?”
Her indignant huff couldn’t be missed, and a moment later, Harley was leaning in the doorway. “Do you want to tell me what the fuck is up your craw? It’s not like you not to give a girl at least one orgasm.”
Lifting the box of napkins to the top shelf, I glared at him. “Like you haven’t had to fuck the anger out?”
His eyebrows lifted at me this time. “What happened now?”
Bracing my hands on the metal storage rack and leaning against it, I dropped my head to my chest. “Joel’s daughter.”
He knelt over by the dispensers, rolling one of the canisters over, but turned toward me, brow furrowed. “Elin? What about her?”
“I met up with her this morning at the attorney’s office, and it was infuriating.”
“Infuriating?” he repeated in a way that made it clear he didn’t think I was describing it right. “What about it exactly?”
“She’s a disrespectful, arrogant bitch.”
Harley chuckled. “She’s Joel’s kid. Of course she is. Besides, the family is responsible for his death. Did you really think she was going to be like Sonia out there? Oh, let me take a ride on that dick?”
I glared at him, fucking irritated by how he’d pitched up his voice to sound feminine. Anyone else would have gotten their ass kicked. “No, but now she’s my business partner.”
“What?” Shock lined every inch of his face. “Joel gave her the club?”
“He did.”
My loyal second ran his hand through his hair. “Well, fuck. What about the family aspect? Joel, at least, was family.”
Pushing off the shelves, I sighed. “I don’t know, man. She’ll be here on Thursday.”
“Buy her out?”
“If she’ll take it. I’m not so sure she will. That woman is maddening. So stubborn.”
He studied me for a moment. “I haven’t seen you like this before. What really has you messed up?”
“What?”
“What is it about this that really has you messed up? The fact that Joel didn’t give you the business or that a woman is now your partner?”
“I don’t care that my partner is a woman. It’s the fact that it's this woman.”
He burst out laughing. “Oh fuck, you are intrigued by her. She’s already getting under your skin.”
Harley was provoking me, and fuck if it didn’t work. I whirled on him, my fist flying through the air and connecting with his jaw. “Asshole!”
Spitting out a bloody loogie on the floor, he continued to laugh. “Oh yeah. I hit too close to home for ya.” Wiping his mouth, he reached over and clasped my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get drinks. She’s got her claws so deep into you, and I’m going to fucking love this.”
“Fuck you.” She was under my skin alright. Just like I wanted my knife under hers.
“Let’s go. No more hate fucks for the night. I know it’s how you usually get out your frustrations, but Sonia didn’t help at all.”
I shuttered. “Her high-pitched wailing almost killed my boner. What about the club, though? We open in an hour.”
“We have staff. We don't have to be here. Don’t use it as an excuse. Let’s go.”
After stumbling into my penthouse a few hours later, Harley half-carried my ass to the bedroom. “Strip and get in bed.”
“Who made you my fucking caretaker?”
“I’ve always been your caretaker. Joel’s too.
Both of you were usually just as fucked up, so yeah.
Harley rolled his eyes dramatically. “Besides, you can’t even stay on your feet.
I’ve seen you drink, but shit! Don’t think I’ve seen you clean out two fifths of straight vodka before.
I’m getting your ass to bed, and then I’m going to call your father and tell him that his talon is out of commission for the night. ”
I did as I was told. When I tried to step out of my pants, my toes kept catching on the fabric, but I finally got them off and was stripped to my boxers, falling onto the bed.
Harley watched as I settled in and then, without another word, walked out.
After the door clicked shut, I lay there.
The entire time at the bar tonight, I had been unable to get Elin from my mind.
Her fierceness called to me. Not to mention that she wasn’t scared of me.
When we’d been at Joel’s place that day, she’d had no problem throwing me to the wall and gripping me by the neck.
Fuck!
Why had I liked that so much? I should have been pissed, enraged that she would dare to do that to me, and in front of my father?
Now that I was lying here, the world spinning and fuzzy around me, she was really the only thing I could see. Her stupid face just smirked back at me. Mocking me. The more I thought about Elin, the more pissed I became.
What was it about her that was irritating me so much?
She doesn’t give a fuck who you are. She completely dismissed you. Thought whatever was on her fucking phone was more important than Gavriel Azzaro, the Owl’s Talon.
Rolling over, I groaned in frustration as I realized I was stroking my cock. Closing my eyes, I saw her staring at me as she slowly wrapped her lips around me and demanded my attention.
Flinging my eyes open, I shook my head to clear the thought of her. Only, I couldn’t. There was that look on her face, her eyes dismissive but yet still demanding my sole focus. It was much the same look she had given me when she’d declared she would be at the club on Thursday.
So why was the thought of her taking me over making me so hard? Why was the vision of her staring into my eyes, chin held high, causing me to stroke my cock like it was the only thing I needed in this world?
I could almost feel her sliding down onto my dick and riding me. Moaning, grabbing her tits, and pulling on her nipples.
Fuck. I was too drunk to be fantasizing about some woman who clearly didn't give two shits about who I was.
About a woman I hated to my fucking core.
And yet, I couldn't stop. My hand moved faster, gripping tighter as I imagined her wild hair falling around her face, those defiant eyes never leaving mine even as she took her pleasure.
I groaned, her name escaping my lips before I could stop it. “Elin!”
My heart hammered against my ribs as if it were trying to break free, each beat sending another pulse of heat straight to my groin.
I thrust my hips upward, imagining her wet cunt surrounding me.
In my mind, she was smirking down at me as she controlled the pace, lifting herself just enough to make me chase her—submit to her.
"Fuck," I hissed, my back arching off the mattress. Why was the thought of submitting to her making me so fucking turned on?
My pulse thundered in my ears as I drove my hips harder, faster, fucking up into the fantasy of her.
I could almost feel her nails digging into my chest, hear her breathy moans as she took what she wanted from me.
My heart stuttered when I pictured her throwing her head back, exposing the column of her throat—a throat I wanted to mark, to claim.
The rhythm of my strokes became erratic, desperate. My heart felt like it might explode, racing so fast I could barely breathe. Each thrust was accompanied by the image of her bouncing on top of me, those eyes never surrendering, even as pleasure overtook her.
I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to stifle another moan of her name.
This was pathetic. I was Gavriel fucking Azzaro.
Women begged for my attention, not the other way around.
Yet here I was, drunk and alone, pleasuring myself to the thought of a woman who'd barely acknowledged my existence.
"Goddamn it," I growled, my free hand fisting in the sheets as my hips bucked wildly. The pressure built at the base of my spine, coiling tighter and tighter. In my mind, she was leaning down now, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered filthy promises.
My heart skipped several beats before racing even faster, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. Not with the phantom feeling of her clenching around me, milking me for everything I had to give.
Pleasure crashed through me, but it didn’t wash the pressure away.
No, it just became a restless, skin-crawling itch that refused to fade.
I was panting, brain still buzzing, my body twitching with aftershocks.
My hand hung in the air, sticky, useless, and then I flung it aside, disgusted with myself.
Quick, like I’d done this a thousand times.
My fingers fumbled for the tissues on the nightstand.
Even as I cleaned the mess off my stomach, every part of me recoiled at the smell of my cum, the damp tissue, the feel of cold sweat on my skin.
I balled up the tissues and tried to toss them in the trash, but I didn’t even come close, they instead landing on the hardwood feet away.
As my breath still slowly returned to normal, I couldn’t find the energy to care.
So, I just curled onto my side and stared at the wall, wishing the humiliation in my chest would fade, even a little. I was Gavriel fucking Azzaro. The nightmare of the Azzaro family. The man monsters ducked away from and women begged for, feared, worshipped.
Now here I was, alone in my bed, jerking off to the thought of a woman who looked right through me.
My teeth ground together so hard it hurt. Even after the orgasm, my cock twitched, half-hard and needy. My mind wouldn’t turn off. If anything, it was worse. Elin’s voice was in my ear. Her nails were in my chest. Her goddamn smile beamed at me behind my eyelids like I’d been branded.
I wanted to break something. Punch through the wall.
But I couldn’t even move. I just let the shame of how she had somehow burrowed herself into the coldest parts of myself, settle over me.
Rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes, I saw stars then rolled onto my stomach, trying to crush the memory of her under the pillow.
No use. The seconds dragged. Trenton’s nightlife drummed on: sirens, laughter, the distant pulse of bass leaking through the windows.
My phone lit up on the nightstand with the third missed call from my father.
Of course. He’d want answers, obedience, a reminder that I was his best monster, not some idiot fucking his hand to a girl who hated the air he breathed.
My phone went off again, saw it was Harley and answered it, groaning. “What could you possibly want, fucker?”
A deep chuckle flowed through the line. "Your father wants to know if you need a doctor."
"Tell him to fuck off," I growled.
"I'll take that as a no." He paused. "You still thinking about Elin?"
I didn't answer.
"Gav, are you seriously still obsessing over her?"
"I'm not obsessed," I snapped, but even I could hear the lie in my voice.
"Sure, you’re not. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
The call ended, and I stared at the ceiling. Sleep wasn't coming. Not with her face haunting me. Not with the infuriating memory of her dismissal burning in my gut.
The room spun slightly from the alcohol, but my mind remained fixated on her. Thursday seemed both too far away and too soon. I'd show her exactly who was in control when she showed up at the club.
If she showed up.
The doubt crept in, unwelcome. What if she didn't come? What if this was just some game to her? Why did it even bother me?
"Fuck this," I muttered, reaching for my phone. I scrolled through my contacts, looking for a distraction. Someone who would come running at my call. But none of the names appealed to me.
Frustration raged through me and I chucked my phone across the room, where it hit the wall and landed on the floor with a two-beat thump.
I stared at the ceiling again, my head pounding from frustration or the alcohol, I didn’t know.
All I knew as that I needed to get my shit together before Thursday. I needed to be the one in control.