Page 28 of Justice

Justice rolls her eyes at Red’s request, spinning on her ass and placing Brandi between her open thighs, taking a hand full of hair; she slams her face into her crotch.

“Kiss these lips, bitch,” Justice shouts over the music, knowing how appealing watching a girl eat another one out is to most men. She needs Red to want her, to fucking combust with the need to have her in his bed. His eyes so full of lust, he can’t see the blade of her knife until it’s too late and buried deep in his fucking skull.

Justice knows she is good at what she does, supplying men with a fantasy they wouldn’t admit to even in their wildest dreams. Brandi, however, may be able to suck start one of the Harley’s out in the parking lot, but she can’t eat pussy for shit.

Pulling her hips back to reveal Brandi’s swollen and glistening lips, she turns her face in Red’s direction. “Kiss her,” Justice demands, closing her legs and moving to the side. When Red looks at her confused, she pushes Brandi’s head to his face.

“I said, kiss her, goddamn it.”

Red looks to a waiting Brandi, lowering his lips to hers, closing his eyes in ecstasy as he gets his first taste of her. Leaning over, she speaks clearly into Red’s ear. “You like how my pussy tastes, wrapped around your bitch’s tongue?”

When Red pulls away from the kiss, ignoring the harsh words of a clearly turned on Brandi, and nodding his head like a fool, she knows she has him right where she wants him.

However, Justice learned a long time ago, always be the player and not the played. Keeping his eyes trained on her, she spreads her legs and swirls the tip of her index finger around her clit. Without breaking eye contact, she places the wet digits to Hawks lips, coating them before slamming her mouth to his.

Hawk catches her by surprise when he wraps his muscled arm around her, pulling her naked body to his hard one. His tongue explores her mouth as his hips grind into her core, creating the most delightful friction she has ever experienced.

* * *

Red couldn’t get enoughof the taste of Candy as he continued to suck hard on Brandi’s tongue, while watching Candy’s fingers play with her pretty pink pussy. Red is unable to hold back as he comes in his pants for the first time since he was a teenager. He bites hard enough to draw blood as he watches Hawk kiss the shit out of the woman he needs to fuck.

“Red, we got company.” A cellphone blocks his view of Candy’s legs wrapped around Hawk, legs he cannot wait to get between. Red pulls back to look at the screen as the music stops and the lights come on. Several bikes are lined up at the gate, full face helmets to prevent the rider from being identified.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” he tells Griller. Motioning for Hawk to come closer, “Come by my house tomorrow night, say nothing to Lightning as I have a proposition for you.”

Hawk nods his head as Red turns to leave. “Oh, and Hawk,” Red calls for his attention. “Bring Candy, too. We need to finish what we started.”

As Red leaves, he places a kiss on Brandi’s lips, needing one final taste of her to get him through the night. Brandi watches as Justice slides her legs back in her shorts, ignoring the cash littered around her feet. Hawk helps tie her top around her neck, before grabbing her hand and turning to the side to leave.

“Hey, you forgot your money!” Brandi shouts after them, her hands full of the cash from the floor.

“Keep it, buy yourself a decent pair of tits with it!” Justice calls over her shoulder as Hawk drags her out the side door.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Drake half listenedas Father Simon read the eulogy, the cluster of snowflakes that landed on the toe of his shoe holding more of his attention than the sorrow-filled words intended for his late wife. Unlike Deidre, he found the ice crystals fascinating. How no two are rumored to be alike, each unique in their design. She spent too much time trying to convince those around her how perfect she was, in reality, she was exactly like the alleged friend standing next to her, shallow and ordinary.

God, he needed this to be over, to close the book on the biggest regret he had in his relatively short life. After today, he could remove the yoke of obligation placed on him by marrying into a family of leaches, and start living his life for himself.

He’d placed the ball in motion with an early morning call to a girl he used to spend time with, Sasha. Nothing was ever serious between them and he wanted to keep it that way as well as any other woman he entertained in the future. He would date his ass off, enjoy the spoils of every woman he chose to warm his bed, but there would be no more marital obligations for him. No lining the open hands of her family with money they didn’t earn and receiving nothing but heartache in return.

“Amen.”

Joanna’s voice cracks beside him, pulling his thoughts away from the thighs of the blonde he would meet up with later, to the faux tears his former sister-in-law is shedding. He’s not sure who she is trying to impress, he can smell the menthol she'd slathered under her eyes to achieve those tears from here.

He scans the small group of close relatives and associates surrounding Deidre’s coffin, trying to pick out Joanna’s intended victim. He has half a mind to warn them of her trickery, but as his eyes land on each male, he painfully realizes the tears are intended for his ears.

Joanna wraps her arms around him, burrowing her face in the shoulder of his wool coat. He will give her a few days to mourn before he sits her down, with a firm understanding of how they will never be the couple she wants them to be. He knows when the conversation is over, the tears on her face will be real.

“Oh, Drake,” Joanna sobbed, turning her body into his as the priest instructs the precession of flowers to begin. “I can’t do this. I can’t be without my sister.” She sobbed, her theatrics giving Drake a headache.

His mother nudges him from the opposite side, the leather of her gloves rubbing with the severity of her clenched fist. As he lifts his hand and lowers his face to do the sign of the cross, he hears her mumble, ‘harlot’ under her breath. Needing to end this before his mother loses her mind; he wraps Joanna in his arms, tucking her face into the scarf around his neck, and lowers his mouth to her ear.

“Enough,” he barks between clenched teeth, the single word is laced with all the pent-up frustration she has caused him over the last few days.

Her body betrays her, and she stiffens at his warning, pulling away from his embrace, an automatic recoil we all have programmed in to warn us of impending danger. Joanna has witnessed how lethal he can be. How, even with a priest standing less than five feet away, he would pull the gun from his holster at the small of his back and kill any man who crossed him.

Drake can feel the weight sliding from his shoulders as he shakes the last hand in the long line of guests at the funeral. He had vetoed the luncheon Joanna and her mother wanted, giving them the option to shell out the money themselves if they truly wanted it. He had given Deidre the funeral that was expected of him; an elegant coffin, beautiful flowers, and a headstone that would stand out among the others beside her.

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