I wrench the bottle from his grasp, tipping it out, then hefting it in my hand as though I’m about to use it as a weapon. The boy’s eyes grow large, both hands trying to pry my fingers from his throat.
“Think I’m gonna step in here,” Ant says from behind me, plucking the bottle from me to toss it into the large bin nearby, clapping me on the shoulder. “You don’t want to endanger your freedom just to smack this lout half dead.”
The boy sags in gratitude.
“Not when you can stand back and watch me do it for you.”
The switch shocks me into a laugh while the culprit trembles. Ant has been a constant source of support since coming into our fold and is always pleasant company.
He nods to the empty bottle while hauling the unfortunate away, presumably to deposit him outside my gate in mostly one piece despite his threats. “Grab a low-alcohol version for me when I come back, would you?”
If anyone else had asked me to fetch them a drink, it wouldn’t go well, but I have one ready and waiting when he returns, handing it across as we amble down to the old tree house where a separate group of partygoers are hanging out.
“What happened to that brunette you were chatting up earlier?” I ask. “She seemed nice.”
He arches an eyebrow at me, smirking. “Ducked off to the bathroom and she better not be. I’ve got no use for nice.”
I stand beside him, enjoying his calm presence. Unlike half the party, he doesn’t demand a constant feed of small talk in return for companionship.
Then I spy the brunette returning, arm in arm with a cute blonde with most of her tits on show. No surprise there, half the girls have done the same knowing it’ll attract Wilder’s gaze.
As I leave him to it, my phone pings with an incoming text and I fish it out, smiling as I see the caller ID.
Tricia is here. My night is about to become a hundred times more wonderful.
I buzz her through the gate then send directions to get to my bedroom.
Wilder’s nowhere to be seen when I let myself in through the back door, probably letting a crowd of girls fight over who gets to suck his dick tonight. Judging from the last time he broke up with Dahlia, there’ll be at least three winners. Maybe four or five if his stamina holds.
And with my needs being met tonight, the usual hit of jealousy is missing. There’s a bounce in my step as I head for my room, tapping lightly on the door before pushing it open.
The girl springs from the bed, eyes already streaming with tears. A pulse of excitement hits me in all the right places.
Her pink hair is cuter in person than the picture Stevenson sent me. She’s also younger than expected. Instead of rounding the twenty-five up to thirty, I should round it down. Early twenties? Maybe even my age.
The next pump of blood into my cock gets me all the way hard. Delight and desire skitter along my nerve endings, my clothing instantly chafing.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is husky, so raw from sobbing I wonder if I could make her cry hard enough to lose it altogether. She wipes at her eyes, the absorbed tears instantly replenished by a new flood. “I shouldn’t be in here.”
A hit of pure anticipation makes my skin sing. From the five scenarios I gave Stevenson, this is my favourite.
I close the door, flicking the lock so no one will disturb us.
A worried expression blooms in her eyes as she stares at the lock then back to me. She nibbles on her bottom lip, transmitting nervousness at full volume. Adorable and so well played I could believe she’s a professional actress.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” I echo, my voice gruff with arousal.
She shifts her weight from foot to foot, hands wringing as I advance a step towards her. My dick gives a satisfying throb asmy eyes travel over her. Solidly built but still small enough that I could pin her with one hand.
Small enough to straddle her while she cries and begs me not to hurt her. A thought that sends another surge of interest to my prick, already straining at my jeans.
Her eyes flicker down, then jerk away, a pulse thrumming visibly in her neck. In a voice that’s barely audible, she murmurs, “I’ll get out of your way.”
Pleasure hums through my body and I close my eyes for a brief second, letting the sensation fill me to overflowing. When she moves, I open them, blocking her to the left, then the right, edging another step closer while the fear grows in her eyes. While another surge of tears spills from her lashes.
Sweet mother of God but this is perfection. Stevenson can book this one for the rest of eternity, I don’t care what it costs. I’ve never had a sex worker this responsive, this good at her job.
“You can’t leave until I’ve handed out your punishment.”
