Syn stared at me with lust-soaked eyes for a moment, then when I undid my zipper, freeing my cock, she fell to her fucking knees like this was church, and I was offering her absolution for all her sins.
“Just a blowjob, Syn.”
She tried to hide the disappointment from her face, but I saw it etched there in all its crestfallen glory. She’d get over it, especially if Dick Gregory were still there when I was done with her. I sat back and watched as she gripped my cock at the base and ran her hand up and down it a few times, pumping and watching me through half-lidded eyes.
When she stuck out her pink tongue and licked the crown, I groaned but didn’t shut my eyes. I watched every fucking second, not because I wasn’t enjoying it—I fucking was—but because I didn’t trust anyone. If I had my eyes open, I couldn’t fucking get fucked over. This rule applied to business and pleasure. I wasn’t even sure when I let my guard down anymore. Years of survival and the climb to the top had taught me that, and it was the one lesson I never forgot.
Syn took my entire length into her mouth, her tongue swirled around me as she moved up to the tip, her teeth dragging over the veins on the underside. She purred, the vibrations shooting straight through me like she knew they would. I let her play with me for a while, going at her own pace, before grabbing the back of her head and wrapping her ponytail around my fist. From there, I held her head immobile while I fucked her warm, wet, willing mouth. I shoved into her until I hit the back of her throat. Syn didn’t have a gag reflex, which was one of the reasons I used her.
She took everything I gave her, saliva dripping from her well-used mouth, falling on her breasts still being held in check by her balconette bra. She groaned as her orgasm approached, her hand burrowing deep into her lace panties. She played with herself as I fucked her mouth, her eyes staying open, staying fixed on my face. When she came, though, she squeezed them shut, her body shivering with pleasure. Her moans became long and drawn out, and although I could normally last hours getting my dick sucked, tonight I didn’t want to waste time.
As the vibrations in her throat ricocheted through my shaft, I felt my balls tighten. I was going to come. I pumped more furiously into her mouth, my grip tightening until I finally stopped and came at the back of her throat with a loud breath hissed through my teeth. Syn swallowed me down, her throat working, the compression of my dick squeezing the last little bit from me.
I released her hair slowly, running my fingers down to her jaw, then dragging my thumb across her pink, swollen bottom lip. She sucked the digit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.
“When are you going to fuck me, Mr. Rivera?” she asked in a low, rough voice.
I stroked her mouth again before shoving my semi-hard dick back into my slacks and standing to zip them. “Never, baby. I don’t fuck my employees.”
She got to her feet smoothly. “I’ll quit right now if that’s what it takes.”
Wrapping my arm around her waist, I leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. “No, you won’t. You need this job too fucking much, and I’m a bastard.”
“You’re a bastard who knows how to fuck, though.”
How the fuck did she know? There were rumors floating around about me, sure. I’d heard many of them and quashed most of them too, so I raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re fucking right I know how to fuck, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever fuck one of my Dolls. I don’t shit where I eat.” And with that, I left the private room and returned to my office to get on with business.
2
Wren
I jolted away in my bed, blinking in the darkened room. What had woken me? Turning, I glanced at the clock, trying to focus my blurry eyes on the digits on the digital readout. Was that one o’clock—in the morning?
Bang, bang, bang!
Someone was at the door.
Opening up the drawer on my side table, I pulled out my Beretta 92FS and got out of bed. It was still in the high nineties in my non-air-conditioned apartment, so I’d slept in a shirt and panties. But this was Boyle Heights, and there was no way in hell I was answering my apartment door in the middle of the fucking night without a weapon in my hands—modesty was simply optional at this point.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Jesus! Wren, let me in.”
At the sound of my brother’s voice, I flipped on the living room lights, undid all three deadbolts, then the slide lock before opening the door. Hawk was weaving on my doorstep, his face a bloody mess, one of his eyes swollen shut.
“What the fuck, Hawk?” I guided him inside, re-shut things, and forced him to sit on my worn-out couch. The furniture groaned around him, but it didn’t fall apart—this time. He still hadn’t answered me, so I walked into the kitchen to grab some ice before hitting the bathroom for the first-aid kit.
When I came back, he was laid out on the faded yellow couch, an arm laid gently over his face. “What happened?” I asked, easing onto my knees beside him.
He moved his arm, so he could open his one good eye and look at me. “I fucked up, Wren.”
My stomach clenched. “Fucked up, how?”
Hawk was forever getting into trouble. He had been ever since we were kids, and because I felt responsible for him, I’d always done what I could to get him out of it. I feared the day he turned up with a problem I couldn’t fix, though. Every time the problem got bigger, the stakes got higher.
“Fucked up how, Hawk?”
He blinked and sucked in a breath through his mouth. His nose was probably broken if the angle was anything to go by. “I’ve been selling drugs.”
“What about RadioShack? I thought you had a job. Why would you need to sell drugs?”
He stared at me with such pity, but I wasn’t the one bleeding and bruised on the couch. “I lost that job a few months back.”
I wanted to punch him in the face, but I held myself back. Besides, I was pretty sure he was feeling sorry enough for himself right now. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me you needed cash, too?”
“I can’t sponge off you for the rest of my life, sis.”
If it were a choice between sponging off me and dealing drugs, I would’ve taken on the financial burden. Although, I wasn’t sure how much more my failing dog grooming business could take. “No, Hawk. Jesus. I can’t believe you did that.”
He shrugged, then winced like he’d forgotten he’d had the shit beat out of him. “It’s done now, but I owe the boss.”
“How much do you owe?” I was afraid to ask, but I had to know how hot the water was here. When he didn’t answer right away, I pressed, “Hawk, I swear to fucking God if you don’t tell me—”
“Fifty grand.” He stared at me, begging me to understand even though I had no idea what the particulars were this time around. My brother had always been the kind of kid to bet over his head. Most times, his bluffs worked, and he walked away with more cash in his pocket than he’d had in the previous months. I always thought his luck would run out eventually, though.
It turned out this was that time.
Jacking up onto my feet, I cut a tight line in front of him, grinding my molars as I tried to think about how I could secure fifty grand for him. There was no way I wouldn’t help bail him out, but the how was a fucking mystery. I barely scraped together enough for the rent on my shop and apartment on a weekly basis. My savings account was in the negative the last time I looked.