“Hey, sweetheart,” I say and give her fine ass a nice squeeze for good measure.
She squeaks and pushes away from me. I wink at her as she looks at Shadow with confusion clouding her beautiful blue eyes.
“I think I’ll start my night with you,” I tell her in a husky voice.
Her eyes widen, and I’m almost certain I have her on the line.
“Yeah, buddy,” I hear Shadow hiss in my ear. “If you want to die tonight. That’s Prez’s girl.”
I watch as a tear rolls down her cheek. My heart clenches a bit. I hate not knowing this shit. I can tell by the hurt in her eyes that she’s upset I don’t remember her. I know I’d never touch Kincaid’s woman, so I know by the look in her eyes that we must be friends.
“Prez would never settle down,” I say in confusion.
“Believe it, Kid,” Shadow says. “You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t stab you for that little ass grab you just pulled.”
I look around the room again. “Runner-up then,” I say pointing across the room to a magnificent auburn-haired woman. She’s super young, but if she’s here, she has to be legal.
She stands from the couch and takes a step toward me with a small broken smile on her face. She looks familiar, but I can’t quite grasp the memories. She’s just as disappointed as the blonde was as she makes her way toward me.
Shadow grabs my arms and drags me further into the room. “Not a chance fucker.”
I tilt my head at him. “That your girl, Shadow? Surely you haven’t settled for one piece of pussy, too?”
“Long story, man, but she’s off limits.”
I look over and see Snapper twirling her fire red hair around her finger. Her dress is so small; it leaves hardly anything to the imagination.
“All of this new, off-limits pussy. You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumble as I angle my head at Snapper.
She saunters across the room, her hips swinging seductively. This woman I know. This woman I know can take care of me tonight. The ache in my balls is unreal, and if I didn’t know myself any better, I’d think it had been weeks if not months since I’ve been buried deep in a hot pussy.
We walk hand in hand to my room.
“I never thought I’d get to fuck you again,” she coos in my ear as we make our way into my room.
It was a bump on the head not a mortal wound, so I have no idea what she’s going on about.
I close and lock the door behind us. The sound of the lock shifting into place must be her panty-drop call sign because she hits her knees before I can make it a foot further into the room.
My belt is undone, and my pants are around my ankles mere seconds later. With no preamble whatsoever, I feel her hot mouth wrap around my dick and take me to the back of her throat.
“Holy fuck,” I groan loudly as she draws in her cheeks and increases the suction tenfold.
Jesus her mouth is heaven. She’s relentless, sucking and stroking like it’s the last dick she’ll ever be allowed to touch.
My body only gives me a second of warning before I blow. She laps it up enthusiastically without objection.
“Fuck, Snapper,” I hiss as she continues to lick me clean. “On the bed,” I command. “Ass in the air.”
She obeys immediately, stripping her clothes off as she walks across the room. It doesn’t take but a few seconds since she was only wearing a thin cotton dress and a thong.
“Leave them on,” I tell her as she moves to pull her panties down her legs.
I strip off my t-shirt and toss it to the floor as I close the distance between the bed and the door. I grab a condom from the drawer in the bedside table and suit up. I position myself behind her and tug the thin strip of fabric away from her entrance, situating it over her right ass cheek.
With no time to waste and no need for foreplay, I notch my dick at her opening. This is what I love about the club girls, always willing, always ready.
I slide into her in one long thrust. I may not remember everything, but I know exactly why she’s named Snapper; it has nothing to do with fish and everything to do with her pussy clamping down on any dick that comes close.
“Damn, baby. I love how you’re always ready for me.” I set a punishing rhythm as she smiles over her shoulder, eyes half lidded.
I grip her hip with one hand and reach the other up to tug her hair, forcing her back into an arc deep enough that I hit her sweet spot on each and every thrust. Foreplay may not be my thing, but I make the woman come every time. I’m a gentleman like that.
Sweat beads on my skin and rolls down my bare chest. I may have bitten off more than I can chew; thinking fucking is a great idea so soon after getting out of the hospital. I close my eyes momentarily, but keep on thrusting into Snapper’s hot, tight-as-fuck pussy. I can feel a headache creeping in, and I can tell just by the mild throb that it’s going to be a bad one.
She whimpers when I slam into her and rotate my hips in a circle when I’m buried deep.
“Kid,” she gasps. “Yes.”
She reaches her hand under her, and I know she’s stroking her own clit because I can feel her fingers each time she takes me to the hilt. I should apologize, because it’s something I’d normally do for her. Clearly I’m off my game.
With my eyes squeezed shut, a flash of that hot little auburn-haired girl in the living room flashes in my head. That’s not unusual for me. I tend to picture other women when I’m fucking. I know it makes me an asshole, but you have to get creative when you keep your dick close to home and in the same handful of girls, unless a mission comes up.
What’s odd about it is my vision of her is nothing sexual, rather just the two of us talking at the end of a dock and feeding ducks. It feels like a memory, not just something my brain has conjured out of nothing.
The tingle at my spine and the deep throb in my sac breaks through the images, and I groan loudly when my dick begins to wrench in pulses as I orgasm.
Best feeling in the world as far as I’m concerned.
Even though my mind was elsewhere, I can tell Snap got hers as well. Her skin is flushed pink, and she’s breathing harder than I am.
I pull out and slap her hard on the ass.
“Thanks, doll,” I say climbing off the bed and heading for the shower. “See you at breakfast.”
The sex was great; it always is. Every one of the girls here is fantastic in bed, but for some reason, it feels empty, as if something is missing. Apparently, I hit my head harder than I realize because I’ve never felt this way after blowing my load twice in less than an hour. Normally I’m satiated, replete. A wash of unease runs up my spine, settling in my stomach as shame and embarrassment for some reason.
My heart fluttered and felt whole for the first time in as long as I could remember when he looked at me and crooked his finger to join him; then it shattered to a million pieces when Shadow whispered in his ear and Kid had Snapper join him.
I knew he wasn’t the same when his gaze just drifted over me when he first walked in. It was worse when I saw him manhandle Emmalyn, but they have a weird relationship, so I wasn’t going to let it bother me as much. Watching him walk out of the room with his hand in hers… the feeling in my gut then has only been eclipsed by two other life events; finding my parents dead and reading about Alec’s death online.
I watch with wide tear filled eyes as the red-headed whore struts back toward Kid’s room. The look on her face can’t be described any other way than pure bliss. I realize then I never should’ve come here. I’d rather live on the street in fear for my life every day than to feel my heart getting torn out by a man I’m pretty certain I’ve fallen in love with.
Shadow’s name being called from the front door pulls my attention from watching my heart walk away in the hands of a club whore. Kincaid has stuck his head in the doorway holding his phone up to Shadow with a serious look on his face. Shadow joins him on the front stoop, and Emmalyn follows shortly behind him pulling the door closed behind them.
I hold my head as high as I can, knowing I’m going to lose it when I enclose myself in my room. Gypsy gives me a sad smile as I walk by. I don’t know where Rose disappeared to, but I’m grateful she’s not around to witness my heartbreak. The last thing I need right now is the comforting words of the club mother, condoning Kid’s and Snapper’s behavior.
The tears are falling freely down my face before I can even make it to my room. Kid’s room is down from mine, and as much as I want to bang my fists on the hard wood and demand he make her leave his room, I know I can’t.
He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t remember one second of the time we’ve shared. I’m a complete stranger to him.
Emmalyn’s words about the doctor insisting that everyone needs to allow his memories to come back naturally rings in my head. Having some idea of what he’s doing in that room with Snapper shatters me, but I care for him enough to not cause further trauma by insisting he stop behaviors that were completely natural to him before I came along. For all I know he never stopped messing around with the other women here.
It doesn’t matter now; the damage has been done. I knew better than to allow myself to feel for someone. This will just be another layer of armor around my already metal-filled heart.
I wipe my face with the back of my hand and straighten my spine with more bravado than I actually feel. Slowly, I make my way to the en-suite bathroom and wipe my face.
I stare into the mirror at my puffy eyes and blotchy skin. “At least he’s alive,” I tell the damaged girl that looks back at me.
Unable to watch the reflection of my heart breaking any longer, I make my way back out into the bedroom. I cross the room and open my door a crack. I know I can see his door from mine when I’m sitting on my bed. A glutton for punishment, I turn off my lights and crawl between cold sheets; sheets I was certain were going to be kept warm by two bodies tonight.
My eyes are on fire, and my vision has begun to grow blurry as I stare across the hall, attempting to will this whole day away. I’m on the cusp of emotionally exhausted sleep when I see Shadow cross in front of my room and bang on Kid’s door.
A long minute passes before the door is pulled open. Standing in the doorway, clad only in a translucent thong, is Snapper. Bright eyes and a Cheshire grin mark her face. I can feel the bile rising up my throat, but I can’t seem to turn my eyes away from her. Disheveled hair and the pink flush to her cheeks inform me that although I’d hoped he’d change his mind, he clearly didn’t.
“Where is he?” Shadow growls.
I admit I’m happy when I see her frown at his brusque tone.
“He’s in the shower,” she answers timidly, taking a step back from him.
“Get your shit and get out,” he demands.
She steps away from the door, and a minute later she walks out in one of Kid’s shirts. I see Shadow grab her arm as she tries to skirt past him.
“He’s going to hate you for this,” he says before releasing her and allowing her to scurry away.
He closes Kid’s door and hangs his head in defeat as he nears mine. I close my eyes swiftly, praying he will just keep on walking. He blocks the small amount of light coming in from the hallway and without a word softly pulls my door closed.
Just a couple more days until I’m eighteen. I have some serious thinking to do and plans to make. There’s no way I can stay here and look into his captivating brown eyes after what’s happened.
The tears fall silently until sleep pulls me under.
***
Even exhausted, my body still wouldn’t let me get much sleep last night. I stayed in bed, but I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the last couple of hours.
Hearing some activity somewhere in the clubhouse, I get up, dress quickly, and head to the kitchen. We spent all that time yesterday making the lasagna for the guys, and I missed out on it. I couldn’t have eaten a bite after watching Kid walk out with Snapper, but my stomach is growling now and demanding something go in it.
It’s super early, the sun barely cresting over the horizon, so I hope there are only a few people in the kitchen. More specifically, I hope that Kid and Snapper are nowhere to be seen.
I stop in my tracks and lean against the wall before making my way through the door of the kitchen. I can hear Emmalyn’s pissed off voice bouncing off of the walls.
“That was some seriously shitty stuff you did last night,” she sneers.
“Are you kidding me?” I hear Snapper’s indignant voice say. “You’ve never fucked him, Emmalyn. If you had, you’d understand why I didn’t turn him down.”
“Regardless, you knew he wouldn’t touch you for weeks before he left for Vegas. What you did last night was reprehensible,” Emmalyn continues.
Refusing to stay in the hall like an eavesdropping deviant, I turn and walk through the doorway. I’d planned to hold my head high, showing her that she doesn’t affect me.
I see her standing with her back to the counter holding a cup of coffee. Emmalyn is mere inches from her face, seething with rage. Having Emmalyn in my corner builds my resolve, but the sight of Snapper, with a smirk on her face, once again wearing one of Kid’s shirts, deflates any confidence I’d built in my ability to handle this situation.
Both of their heads snap in my direction. Emmalyn looks saddened, having gone through her own trouble with another club girl that’s no longer here. Snapper quirks an eyebrow at me in challenge. I turn around and leave the room. What else would I do? Fight her? Yell? It wouldn’t make a difference.