Page 18 of Smoke

She bucks and screams while fisting the sheets. “Oh, fuck. What are you… fuck. Yeah. Please don’t fucking stop.”

He chuckles knowingly as he slides the entire length of his tongue inside her and goes to town. He wraps his lips around her clit, humming as she grinds against his whole face.

And my restraint slips ever so slightly. I free my cock and quickly cum into my palm. I grunt in short bursts, careful not to erupt into a roar. I like to keep my release quiet so as not to distract them from theirs.

But when my gaze flits to her face, I find her looking at me. She keeps her eyes locked on mine while she cums hard in his mouth.

The screams between them are deafening. Strange and gurgled and primitive. He laps at her juices, alternating between licking and grinding his nose against her clit. This man has never tasted anything better. I can hear it, see it, feel it.

He licks her thighs and places gentle kisses on the edges of her pussy lips. He blows quivering breaths against her, tempting her into another orgasm. I can see by the way her legs shake, her hips arching up.

“Yes, don’t stop what you’re doing. Please, Scar.” She threads her fingers through the tuft of hair that knots on the top of his inked head.

“I told you I’d make it up to you,” he purrs in between licking, sucking, and blowing.

After wiping myself off, I tuck in my cock and get up from the chair. I pause at the foot of the bed, locking eyes with her one more time. A lifetime of anguish and lust and vile thoughts fill the space between us.

“Make her cum again, Scar. Then let her sleep,” I rasp.

I stalk out of the room before either can respond. I’m two steps down the hall when I hear her moans turn into screams. I smile at Omen who is in an even fouler mood than usual.

“I thought you were heading to bed,” I quip.

“Kind of hard to sleep with all that fucking moaning.”

I shrug. “Come watch next time.”

“You two have a weird fucking thing between you. You know that, right?” Omen growls.

“Don’t worry, Om. Soon, the two of you will too.” I’d bet that entire thirty grand on it.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and lean back against the cracked leather chair. My third cup of coffee sits untouched on the desk. The first two didn’t do shit, so why bother? Event nights always take a lot out of me but this time is different. The crux of my exhaustion stems from the emotional and physical roller coaster known as Cherry Bradley.

This makes me even more pissed as I glare at the photograph that Scarrow sets in front of me. He was able to scrape the blurred image from our security footage.

“Either he’s got help, or we’ve hired the most useless muscle in the history of organized crime,” I bark over the cup, finally succumbing to the ineffective liquid.

Scarrow rubs his temples. He didn’t get much sleep either. Not with his tongue lodged inside Cherry’s cunt for most of the night. “This feels personal, Hawk. Nothing was taken. But this fucker broke three windows and slashed the tires on all our fucking trucks. We can’t roll a shipment out this week now.”

I slam my fists down and send the cold coffee toppling over. It streams over the photograph and off the edge of the desk. “Shut it down. All of it. Send everyone home for the night. Then we’ll reconvene tomorrow at the bar. We’re going old school.”

“How do you mean?”

“Word of mouth, no phones, and no wires. Everyone gets patted down. We give them each a small delivery, and they have to use their own vehicles. Once a drop is done, they call into the bar and we reveal the location for payment.”

Scarrow smirks, his eyes lighting up. “Ahh so if someone doesn’t show, they’re either our fucking mole or our little vandal. Or dead.”

I nod. “Bingo. And if someone doesn’t like it, we get rid of them. Permanently… We keep the guns at the shed and the drugs in the fridge at Level Up. This fucking warehouse is compromised.”

“That sounds messy, but I agree it’s the best option for now. I’ll fill Omen in too. He’s downstairs beating the shit out of Rodney for the break in. He was the last to leave. And someone’s gotta fucking take the heat. Show the rest of them that we ain’t playing.”

I nod. “Good. I wanna take a little trip out to Lavender Heights in the next week or so. Look into hiring some new blood out there.”

Scarrow raises an eyebrow. “That’s gonna cost a bit more. Crimson Valley isn’t exactly a dream job destination.”

“Yep. But one winning racehorse is worth three losing ones. If we want to grow our empire, we gotta start acting like kings.” I’m sick of this petty small-town shit.

I stay in Crimson Valley because it’s my territory. I’ve worked too hard to let it go. And I’m not ready to go to war with the head of Lavender Heights. His time will come though.