Page 42 of Justice

“You ready?” He questioned, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out what looked to be a key-fob, and pointing it at an expensive car at the end of the parking lot. The headlights flashed as a high-pitched chirp sounded.

“I am. What are you doing to that car?”

“I’m not doing shit to it, but you’re going to follow me to Red’s in it.”

“What?” She questioned, letting her bag slide off her shoulder and onto the ground.

“Calm down,” he offered, hands raised in surrender. “We can’t assume the gates will be open when it’s time to leave, so we have to have a backup.”

Justice hated how right he was and how she hadn’t even taken this possibility into consideration.

“I’ll pull over at a place I found the other day, you park my car and jump on the back of the bike. We cross the gates, pay your stepdaddy what’s coming to him, and then we get the fuck out of there.”

Justice hadn’t driven a car in years, hell; she didn’t even have a valid driver’s license. As she sat behind the wheel of the Porsche, her body melting into the leather seats, the car so luxurious it practically drove itself.

She followed Tobias through town, staying far enough back so as to not raise suspicion. When he pulled off onto the same road he did the earlier that night, she parked behind him, pressing the lock on the key-fob and climbing on the back of his Harley.

The lot was deserted as they passed through the gates, not even a Prospect standing sentry. Tobias backed the Harley into place, before helping the nearly naked Justice from behind him.

Walking around to the back of the clubhouse to the dilapidated house Justice once called home, nostalgia hit her hard as she stood outside the doorway. The same one where she had been placed in handcuffs and read her Maranda rights. Swallowing hard, she didn’t bother to knock, twisting the handle and walking in as if she owned the place. In a strange convoluted way, she did.

“Red, you home?” She yelled into the room, her voice echoing off the empty walls, while trying her best to avoid looking at the dining room table. Much to her chagrin, the room was unrecognizable. What was once a place she and Tymeless played with their dolls and watched Saturday cartoons, was now a room more suited for poker games or getting a nasty case of the clap.

Red sat at a round table, a glass bong in his mouth and a lit cigarette between his fingers, motioning for them to come to join him at the table. This was the Red she recognized, high as a kite and worthless as tits on a boar. As she took in his lidded eyes, she pushed her shoulders back, this was going to be easier than she thought, granted a lot less fun.

Tobias walks around her, taking her hand in his as he approaches the table, pulling out a chair and tucking himself into it, sliding her on to his lap.

“Not so fast, Hawk.” Red slurred, his body weaving from the drugs in his system. “I wanna see her first before I watch you fuck her on this table.”

Justice moved from Tobias’s lap, swaying her hips as she approached Red and leaned down showing him her sticker-covered nipples, the corset ending just under her breasts. Red reaches over to touch a sticker, but Justice is quicker. “I propose a drink.”

Red holds up his bong, “Don’t need any drink, I’ve got the best shit. Here try this.”

Justice looks at him over her shoulder as she saunters over to the bar. “Red, pot is so nineteen seventy-two, get with the times, it’s all about shots.”

“Pour me one, Candy.” Justice stops in her tracks, turning to find Marino leaning against the doorframe; ankles crossed, a black bandana tied around his forehead and a dark pair of sunglasses covering his eyes. Keeping her poker face intact, she shoots him a smile and a good view of her ass.

Justice wasn’t fooled by the smoke screen he tried to create. She’s known men like Marino, danced for them and allowed them to touch her as a favor to one Senator or another. She knew lust when she saw it, and not the appreciative kind, displayed when a man notices a beautiful woman. No, Marino wanted her, and not just to entertain him for an evening. He may carry a shield in his back pocket, but it had been tarnished long ago by dirty deeds he carried out in the name of justice. And this Justice didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“Unless of course I’m not invited to your little party?”

Looking back to the bar along the wall where the television used to set when she was a child. “Of course you’re invited, Lightning. I’ve got a special one just for you.”

Taking down four shot glasses, Justice crosses the room and walks past Marino, sticking her finger inside the waistband of his jeans, dragging him back to the table with her. As she pours the glasses full, she takes one glass, tossing the liquid into her mouth and straddles Tobias’s lap. Placing her mouth to his, she transfers the drink into his mouth, a tiny drop leaking past their joined lips. Pulling back, she licks up the liquid, making sure both Red and Marino get a full view of her tongue and exposed ass.

She then turns to Marino, taking another glass off the table, this time straddling Tobias with her back to his chest. Wiggling her index finger at Marino, she places the shot glass into her cleavage. Taking Tobias’s hands and cupping her breast, she removes the stickers, and then plays with her exposed nipples.

“Drink up, darlin’, before it gets too hot.” Justice turns her head over her shoulder, wrapping her arms around Tobias’s neck as she licks his lips and then kisses him.

Marino watches as Hawk pulls at Candy’s generous nipples, the glass full of amber liquid waiting for him. His need to watch as Candy’s tongue wraps around Hawk’s, her nipples disappearing under his hands as he kneads her tits, overrides his need to solve his case.

From the moment his eyes landed on this sexpot of a girl, he was ready to toss everything away just to have her. Candy was everything he knew to stay away from, everything his God-fearing mother warned him of, but he didn’t care. He wanted her under him, living in his condo in DC, taking her to dinner, and showing her off to his fellow agents.

What he wouldn’t give to push Hawk’s hands away from those tits, latch on like a starving infant, suck until he got his fill, and branding her with his touch and the scar he would leave behind.

Reality pulls him back in as his rational side reminds him he has a job to do. No matter how fucking hot this girl is, she is a whore, and there are dozens of those in the world. He should know, he’d buried his fair share along the way.

“Do you not like girls, Lightning? Would you like me to move so you can feel Hawk’s thick cock against your back?”

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