Bad Bitch (7 page)

I laughed. “You are a true public servant.”

“I certainly do live to serve.” He focused on my mouth. I leaned away a bit, avoiding his 200-proof breath.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, just protecting the poor and defenseless. Burying my sad little associates under an avalanche of documents. Terrorizing my staff. Run-of-the-mill shit.”

He whistled. It sounded like a bomb falling in a cartoon. “I can’t imagine working for you.”

“It’s definitely an ordeal. Tough love, you know.”

“Do you only give the tough love to your staffers? Or do you share with others?” He moved his hand to my lap, resting it lightly on the exposed skin of my upper thigh.

Interesting.
Jonesy hadn’t tried anything in quite some time. This was forward for him. The liquor had given him a little extra swagger, like booze balls.

“I, um, I’m not known for my tendency to share.” I smiled, unsure of whether to swat his hand away or wait and see what he did with it.

“But you could make an exception?” He smoothed his hand along my skin and pushed the hem of my skirt up. His warm palm slid higher along my leg.

This was tricky. I wasn’t going to fuck him. I couldn’t. He would do the tender thing again, and I wasn’t having it. I sipped my whiskey, stalling him. He watched me, waiting for an answer to his loaded question.

I was on the verge of giving the wrong answer when the cavalry showed up. Lincoln burst through the front door and called a greeting to Mike and us. The New Orleans transplant was already at home here in the city, making an entrance as if this were the bar on
Cheers
and everybody knew his name.

Jonesy didn’t move his hand, but he did turn away and say hi to Lincoln.

Lincoln slid into Wood’s vacated seat on my right. I was certain he’d glimpsed Jonesy’s hand on my thigh, because he gave me a look. Possessive and almost angry. I felt my nipples harden under my shirt. Jonesy rubbed my skin lightly, no doubt thinking my response was for him.

Lincoln ordered a drink. “So, what’s doing?” His voice was tight.

“Just talking about our day. What have you been up to?” Despite Jonesy’s attempt to claim my attention with his wandering hand, I still hoped to glean some information from Lincoln.

He quirked an eyebrow, the scar scrunching up with the movement. “Just working my favorite case. Castille.”

“Anything I should know about?”

Jonesy spread his fingers, spanning my inner thigh. His pinky was perilously close to my panties. I tore my gaze from Lincoln and whipped my head around to Jonesy. But he wasn’t even looking at me. The challenge in his eyes was directed over my head at Lincoln.
Fucking men.
This wasn’t about me at all. This was a pissing contest.

I grabbed Jonesy’s wrist and wrenched his hand out of my lap. I had decided I was going to be nice and let him cop a feel. But not now. The jerk was just using me to goad Lincoln. The tension between them rose as Lincoln saw me spurn Jonesy’s advance. There was a wave of angry male emanating from both sides of me. The testosterone wafted through the bar like an air freshener.

I gulped my whiskey. I was half pissed, half enjoying the thought of the two of them wrestling, naked, for me. Jonesy, the fair-haired fighter with the long, uncut cock; Lincoln, dark and dangerous with a smooth, thick dick. I closed my eyes and pictured it. Very nice. Despite the gorgeous look of them both, I wanted Lincoln to win, to turn his violence into something hotter.

“You know, Jonesy”—Lincoln took a drink from his longneck—“I can show you the way she likes to be touched. Your technique could use some work.”

Jonesy slammed his bottle down and rose, knocking his barstool over in the process. His drunk was showing. “Let’s take this outside.”

Note to self: Don’t taunt trashed
Jonesy
.

“Good idea.” Mike draped his drying cloth over his shoulder. A fight between these two in the bar would result in a ridiculous amount of destruction and cleanup.

The state court scrappers in the back silenced, somehow sensing a challenge in the air. Lincoln drained his bottle and rose to his full height, a few inches taller than Jonesy and all muscle. This was getting out of hand. I liked it.

Jonesy put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “This will only take a minute.”

“He’s right about that.” Lincoln popped his scarred knuckles. He seemed calm on the outside. Serene, even. Underneath, I could sense fury roiling inside him. Fucking hell, he was like a loaded gun.

I wanted to see them battle it out. Like two vainglorious idiots fighting over my honor. I really did, but I didn’t want them hurt. Or, put more accurately, if they were going to get hurt, I’d rather it be in the naked oil-wrestling scenario I’d already come up with. Fighting out on the street would end up with one of them in jail or in the hospital. I would help with neither scenario, just return to my apartment and masturbate to the thought of them in the oil, their hard bodies shining in a delicious amber glow, Lincoln’s tattoos looking extra intense—

Focus!

I sighed and stood. The best way to stop two dogs from fighting over a bone is to take away the bone.

“All right,
boys
, I’m out. You two have a good fight.”

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Jonesy asked.

“If you two are going to go at each other like idiots in some white-collar fight club, then yeah, I’m out. I’ve had a long week. I’m going to go home and order in some Chinese, and the two of you can fuck off, or get a room, or whatever. If there’s going to be oil, though, call me.”

I snagged my bag and sidestepped Jonesy. I didn’t spare a glance for Lincoln.

I could feel the tension dissipating, like air leaking from a balloon. There would be no fight.

I let the door swing closed behind me and hailed a cab. I didn’t hear anything shattering, so I was relatively sure the mayhem was abated. The taxi pulled to the curb as Jonesy stumbled out with Lincoln on his heels.

“I’ll see you home.” Jonesy was almost incoherent and gave a random salute.

“What the hell did you drink at the office? Lighter fluid mixed with rubbing alcohol? Never mind. I don’t care.” I slid into the backseat and closed the door before either one could get in with me. “You two kiss and make up. Pics or it didn’t happen. Then get back to me.”

Lincoln said nothing. He was still tense, his hands clenching and unclenching. I remembered what those hands felt like on my body, at my throat. I almost regretted stopping the fight.

The cab moved forward. I leaned back into the dark interior, cutting off my line of sight with both of them.

Lincoln

I’d wanted to pound Jonesy’s face in for even touching her. I’d always had a hot temper, though I’d reined it in quite a bit as I got older. The scar along my brow was a reminder of what could happen if I let my control slip. So I didn’t. But his hand on her thigh tested me more than anything since I’d put my fighting days behind me.

The lights of Evan’s cab disappeared around the corner. Jonesy stood ahead of me, watching the same now-empty road.

“I wouldn’t touch her like that again, if I were you.”

He whirled, almost losing his footing. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Evan and I—”

“Are friends, nothing more.” I took a step toward him. I knew it was wrong, intimidating him with my size, but I needed to get my point across. I was spoiling for a fight, my ugly past trying to rear its head. But that wasn’t what this was about, or at least that’s what I told myself.

He didn’t move. A breeze rustled by, pushing the smell of cheap vodka to my nose. Jonesy was too far gone, but he still felt like talking. “I’m not afraid of some backwoods hick. You need to stay away from her.”

His backbone was a point in his favor, not much more.

“You may not be afraid, but if you ever touch her like that again, I’ll fuck you up. That’s a promise.” I bored into him with my gaze, putting steel behind my words.

He blinked. “Maybe you should ask Evan what she wants instead of playing the big bad protector. She doesn’t need any help from some hillbilly like you.”

“I’m aware of that. This isn’t me protecting her. This is me letting you know that, until she says otherwise, she’s mine as far as you’re concerned.” I dropped my voice. I needed him to know I wasn’t fucking around, for his own sake.

Jonesy laughed. It was too loud for authenticity. “You’re an even dumber redneck than I first thought. You can’t
claim
her. Evan does whatever the fuck she wants. Emphasis on the ‘fuck.’ Hell, she probably picked someone up on the way home.”

I wanted to punch him, to grab a fistful of his shirt and tie and head-butt him into unconsciousness. I could have done it. Easily. I didn’t.

“Even so. If I catch your hand on her thigh again, you and I will have a problem.”

He held his hands up in mock fear. “Oh, no, the hick is going to knock my lights out. Somebody help.” He bent over, hands on his knees, laughing until his whole body shook. Still leaning over, he tilted his head up at me. “You know, you shouldn’t be worried so much about my hand on her thigh. You should be more worried about my dick in her snatch.”

My knee to Jonesy’s face shut him up. He fell backward onto the sidewalk, his arms landing out to his sides as his eyes rolled back.
Fuck.

Regret was a motherfucker, especially when it came on this strong and sudden. Jonesy, though misguided, was harmless. I wasn’t. And now here we were.

I hailed the nearest cab. It shot to the curb. That was one good thing about this concrete jungle, easy transportation. I hefted Jonesy up and onto my shoulder before dumping him onto the musty backseat. I climbed in next to him. “Jonesy, where do you live?”

No response.

The cabbie looked at me and my unconscious companion with trepidation. He must have been new on the job.

I slapped Jonesy. “Wake the fuck up. Where do you live?”

Eyes still closed, he mumbled an address.

The cabbie said he knew it and took off, no doubt fearing the same rough treatment if he were to falter.

After I dumped Jonesy unceremoniously inside his front door, I went back to the waiting cab and gave Evan’s address. She wasn’t getting away so easily.

I knew she’d been avoiding me, not visiting the Docket Call even once the whole week. Wood was amused and also a hair disappointed at her sudden shyness. He kept saying I’d scared her away. I knew that wasn’t true. Evan didn’t strike me as the type of woman who acted out of fear, and she certainly didn’t fear me. She wanted more of what I’d given her, but didn’t want to ask for it. That wasn’t a problem. I would give her what she wanted, what she needed. No requests necessary.

The cabbie dropped me off at her building. I buzzed the intercom and waited as the doorman gave me the eye.

“Yes?” Her voice was tinny, distant, but I already knew her sound.

“It’s Lincoln.”

“You and Jonesy sort out your differences, did you?”

I could tell that she’d skipped the Chinese and gone straight to a liquid diet. “Something like that. Can I come up?”

“Is Jonesy with you? Did you bring oil?”

I guffawed.
What the hell, woman?
“Pardon me?”

She sighed. “Come on up.”

After the brief elevator ride, I entered her penthouse, seeing the living room clearly for the first time. Dark furniture, cozy, with warm lighting. The huge windows gave a great view of neighboring buildings and the moon above. I wondered if people outside could see in, though I didn’t really care. Some people would find it a turn-on, that others could see them. My demon was darker than that.

She walked in from the kitchen, a glass of red wine in each hand. Her skirt was gone. She wore the same button-up shirt she’d had on earlier, but now it was loose. It fell to the tops of her thighs, hiding what I wanted to see. She was a half-dressed temptress who made me hard enough to hurt.

Low music played in the background. Some sort of classical. Nothing I recognized. I kicked my shoes off, removed my suit coat, and threw it over the back of the nearest chair along with my tie. Unbuttoning my stiff collar always felt so good at the end of the day. But I wanted something even more freeing.

She walked to me and handed me a glass. I accepted it, never taking my eyes from her. I had played with her the last time, but only a little. This time, I wanted the whole game. My violence earlier with Jonesy had just been an appetizer.

I took the wineglasses, hers still half full, and set them on the bar.

“Wha—”

I moved back to her before she could finish her question. I wrenched her wrist up behind her back and turned her around.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was breathy. Turned on.

“Giving you what you deserve.”

I pushed her forward over a chairback. I held her wrist with one hand and unbuttoned my pants with the other. My cock was straining to free itself from my boxers, pushing toward the silky fabric separating it from Evan’s tight pussy.

I pushed against her, my tip slipping along her ass and against that small triangle of fabric. She made a small sound.

“Scared, angel?”

She tensed her back, lifted from the chair, and craned her head around. Those blue eyes pinned me. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

Jesus fucking Christ, this woman.

I yanked her back to me, ignoring her cry. I let her wrist go and stripped her shirt from her, then her bra, and finally her panties. She stood before me naked and beautiful. Her breath came in shallow pants as her eyes lingered on my cock. I didn’t think I could get harder, but I did. She licked her lips.

“Down,” I said.

She gave me a defiant stare.
Hot.
I fisted her hair and pulled until I knew it hurt, knew the pinpricks of pain along her scalp were almost unbearable. She knelt, but kept her eyes up, watching me.
Good.

“Remember what you said to me at the arraignment? How you teased me until my balls turned an interesting shade of blue? Now, angel, you are going to suck my cock until you choke, and then you are going to do it some more.”

Still the defiant stare, but she put her hands on my thighs. Her mouth turned into a thin line. She was challenging me, and fuck did it turn me on.

I put both hands in her hair, letting the red strands fall over my scarred knuckles. I clutched her and pulled her face to my cock. I teased the tip at her lips. She didn’t open her mouth. Her nails dug into my thighs, telling me she wanted my cock but wouldn’t give in unless I made her.

I fisted her hair harder and pushed my cock against her lips. I squeezed until she let out a little sigh and opened her mouth. Her tongue was slick, hot, velvet. I shoved my cock to her throat. She almost gagged. Her eyes closed. I pulled back. She dug her nails even deeper into my thighs, no doubt leaving crimson half moons.

“No, angel, I want you to look at me while I fuck your mouth.”

She focused on me again, making the connection. I pushed in even farther, feeling the smoothness at the back of her throat.

“That’s right, take all of it.”

I started a slow rhythm, sliding in and out and pushing my tip farther and farther into her throat. I kept my hands tangled in her hair as I fucked her mouth, but I didn’t need to. She bobbed her head, greedily sucking me in faster and faster. Moans wafted from her as she went, a complement to the sucking noises that made the seed rise into my shaft. I had to stop or I would have come down her throat just from the sounds.

I pulled back and played my wet tip along her lips. She darted her tongue out, one last taste.

I took her shoulders and pulled her to her feet. She was perfect. Her hard nipples jutted out, begging for my mouth. I knew she was wet. I needed to be inside her. I wrenched her arm behind her back again and turned her around. I bent her over the chairback. Now I could see her pink pussy, wet and glistening for me.

I wanted to sink into her until my balls slapped against her, but I needed more from her first. She needed to cede all control to me, every last bit. I let her wrist go and placed my hands on her round ass. She quivered beneath me.

“You’ve been bad, Evan.” I rubbed slow circles around her plump cheeks, feeling her goosebumps rise as I spoke. “Avoiding me. Why would you do that?”

I teased my head at her hot opening, and she shook. She didn’t answer. I slapped her ass hard, three slaps on each side. She cried out. Fear and pleasure mingled in the sound.

“Answer me.”

I slapped her again, once on each side.

“I just,” she breathed, her voice muffled in the fabric of the chair, “didn’t want this to happen again.”

“You didn’t want this?” I pushed inside her, just the head of my cock squeezed in the pleasurable embrace.

She moaned. I bent over her and put my chest to her back.

“You didn’t want what, angel?”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “I . . . I didn’t want you to fuck me again.”

“Too bad.” I sank into her, seating my cock as deep as it would go.

She half cursed, half moaned. The sound was like a whip, spurring me on. I kept her bent over the chair and stood up, leveraging my cock into her as I started a punishing rhythm. I bounced off her round ass as I plunged into her. The sound of skin on skin reverberated around the room. I fucked her hard, giving her the violence that I kept hidden. She took all of it, all of me. I worked her, showing no mercy and getting pleasure from every stroke. Her cries grew louder, and I could feel her walls clenching around me tighter by the second. She wasn’t going to come, though. I wouldn’t allow it. Not yet.

The skin on her back was pale, unmarred. The thought of coming all over it almost sent me over the edge. I pulled out of her with more than a little effort.

“No,” she cried.

“Yes, angel. You have to wait until I say.”

She grunted. I yanked her up by her arms and turned her around. Gripping her ass, I lifted her and carried her to the sofa. I laid her down and sank on top of her. Her soft body begged to be touched. I pinned her arms above her head with one hand and used my other to squeeze her nipple. She panted beneath me. I squeezed harder. She squealed.

“Lincoln, please!”

“Please what, angel?” I watched her face, now covered with a dewy sheen of sweat.

“Please fuck me.”

“You know it doesn’t work that way.”

I lowered my head and sucked her hard pebble of a nipple into my mouth. She tasted like something sweet, lotion and sweat. I bit down on her. She tried to wriggle her hands free from my grip, but I squeezed until she stilled. A little pain, a lot of pleasure. Having a woman like this under my control was like a double dose of ecstasy. The power in her yielding to the power in me—intoxicating.

I wanted to bury my face in her pussy, but my cock wouldn’t be denied. I ran my mouth back up her body, nipping at her neck before settling on her luscious mouth. I took her lips and let my tongue taste her more deeply. She answered, melting beneath me and opening herself even more.

She was pliant now, wanting me more than fearing me. I would change that. I withdrew and took her delicate neck in my palm. My other hand still clutched her hands above her. She was caught in my snare. I squeezed her wrists and her neck. Just enough to see the spark of fear mixed with excitement in her eyes. I could hurt her. I needed her to know that I could if I wanted to. But I also needed her to know that I wouldn’t unless she asked.

I rammed my cock deep into her, not giving her even an instant to adjust. I kept my grip on her, holding her captive as I fucked her. I used her tight pussy, let it squeeze me as I thrust again and again, deep into her. She kept her gaze on me, her eyes hooded. Her tits bounced, the intensity of my assault jarring them with each motion.

Her moans grew louder, escaping my tight grip and filling the room with their sultry sound.

“You will not come,” I bit out.

She shook her head. “I can’t stop.”

I released her neck and squeezed her nipple. She gasped.

“Lincoln, please, you’re making it harder.”

“You will not come until I say. No matter how good I fuck you or what I do to you. Understand?”

She shook her head. I pinched her nipple harder. She cried out and struggled against me. Her back arched, giving me even deeper access to her core. She fought and tried to wrench her hands from my grip. I bent my head down and sucked in her other nipple, biting down lightly at first. As she kept struggling and her pussy grew tighter, I bit harder and never stopped my rhythm. I was close to the edge, but I wanted to hold out, to keep my grip on this wildcat beneath me until I couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Lincoln, I can’t stop.”