Page 43 of Cup of Lies

Her mouth is decadent. Swollen, pink lips. Sweet taste of vanilla on her tongue. Breathy moans when kissed just right.

I stop soaping my body to look down at my erect cock. How long has it been since I had sex? Was it the last time I was with Romy?

Fake fiancée.

The thought is abrupt, and I don’t like it. I can tell it’s a real memory, but the feelings burning hot through my veins say otherwise. Gripping my cock with my soapy hand, I close my eyes to see Romy more clearly.

She’s stunning, lying naked on a hotel bed. Her pussy is red from taking me all night long. Hickeys litter her breasts that I’ve feasted on with desperate hunger.

I love fucking this woman.

Her tight body is heaven as it sucks my cock inside of her, clenching needily around my thickness. And when I’m spent, having come hard inside her, I like leaving my flaccid cock right where it is. When I’m nestled in her tight, hot body, my cock warmed by our combined juices, it feels so fucking right.

I bite my lip so hard it stings and I’m snapped from my thoughts of Romy. I’m not inside of her body, but my own hand instead. It doesn’t stop me from stroking my cock hard and with a punishing grip, trying like hell to recreate the exhilarating sensation of being with her.

God, I miss her.

Romy, love, I’m coming for you.

There’s nothing fake about how I feel for her. It may have started as a ruse, but when we were separated, it was as real as it could get. Now that I’m rousing those memories, I ache for this woman. It fucking hurts.

I close my eyes again, this time using both hands to jerk off, squeezing and twisting, desperately extracting every zing of pleasure I can get.

And it’ll never be enough because she’s not here.

Her laugh echoes in my head and that’s what sends me over the edge. I come with a ragged groan, splattering the wall near me. When I finally wring out every last drop, I stand hunched under the spray of the water, exhausted and fucking sad.

I’m going to find her.

And no one is taking her from me ever again.

Nees made good on his promise of food. I inhaled it after a much-needed shower and feel more like myself. Now that I’m in the big house, at least I’m closer to seeing LuLu.

“This way,” Nees says as we walk through the house.

I’m stunned at the lavishness of these bikers. In the movies I’d seen, they’d all been a rough crowd, and quite frankly, trashy. These guys are making bank somehow and that interests me.

“We have Church over at the clubhouse, but to be honest, we vibe better over here,” Nees explains as we enter what appears to be a conference room. “Prez and Bermuda nerd out big time here.”

The massive table that stretches out along the rectangular-shaped room is smooth mahogany and had to have cost a fortune, probably more than most people’s cars. These guys are definitely not hurting for cash.

“Sit there,” Nees says, pointing to a chair. “I’ll rally up the guys. Want something to drink?”

I frown at him. “I’ll take a bottle of water.”

Nees cracks up laughing. “Dude, you’re hilarious. I’m not your bitch. There’s a minifridge over there.” He points to the corner of the room. “Get it yourself. Also, there’s no water. Ithink there may be a Corona left or one of those stupid Redbull drinks Dragon likes.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes. “I’m good. What about LuLu? Can I see her?”

“I’m sure Prez will let you see her after he gets what he needs from you.”

I’m not sure I like the sound of that.

He’s only gone for a minute before voices rumble from nearby. Then, like I’m watchingSons of Anarchyor some shit, a bunch of guys with varying lengths of beards and numbers of tattoos come ambling in. I may have been able to hold my own with Nees, but some of these guys could break me without even trying.

A man with golden hair and dashing good looks sneers at me as he passes. His patch says VP on it. I’m guessing he’s number two in this gang. More big dudes pass, taking seats all around me. A man with manic eyes with his arm slung over the shoulders of a soft, blond man saunters in, completely focused on the guy in his clutches.

Then the manic one looks at me.

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