Page 16 of Songbird: Black Kite
Too much like me. Her and I together would be explosive, but the kind of explosive that would level a city block.
But looking at her right now, her red hair tied up in a sleek ponytail and her legs stretched out beside mine, I was starting to think it just might be worth it.
Mick would tell me I was being an idiot. He’d remind me just what was at stake and how I should think with my head and not my dick.
But the way that Lewis was staring at her, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched while he choked on the fact that she was, once again, beside me and not him, I knew that I was willing to risk it all.
Because Lewis had been behind the music all fucking night, missing sound check and sleeping through sessions and band meetings. He wanted to fuck us over? Well, fine then.
Tonight, he could watch me fuck his girl.
Curling my lip, I smirked at him, letting him see when I laid my hand on Tori’s thigh, sliding it slowly up and under her short dress. I could hear her indrawn breath, the fact that I was finally giving in as much of a surprise to her as it was to me.
“We doin’ this?” I asked plainly, not wanting her to think this was more than what it was.
She was hot. I wanted to fuck her.
I wanted to fuck Lewis over.
The stars were aligning for her tonight, and she didn’t even know it.
“Yeah,” she breathed, her eyes wide as she licked her lips. “Where?”
Glancing around the room, I spotted a short hallway that led to the VIP bathrooms. I’d been down there an hour ago to take a leak, and I knew it had a shadowed section at the far end where one of the light bulbs was burnt out.
It would do.
“Follow me,” I said, standing. I started for the hallway, then paused, catching Lewis’s eye again as I reached for Tori’s hand, drawing her close and letting him know just what was happening. Then I laughed when he scowled.
Fuck that guy.
Dragging Tori along, faster than her heels were probably comfortable with but not really giving a shit, I kept moving until I reached the darkened hallway, spinning her around and pushing her against the wall where she landed with a thud and a needy groan.
Dirty bitch.
Shoving my knee between her legs, I drew my hand up her thigh, hiking the dress up higher as I went, shaking my head when I realized she’d already removed her panties at some point. The woman was confident, that was for sure.
Victoria leaned forward, her mouth parted as she tried to kiss me, but I turned my head, giving her my cheek instead. She tried again, reaching for my face and trying to pull my lips to hers, but I grabbed her wrist and shook my head. She pouted, but I didn’t give a fuck.
Kissing was not happening. Never did.
She could deal with it, or she could fuck off.
Watching her think about it, I could see she was considering how hard she wanted to fight me on it. But it was a line I wouldn’t cross. Kissing was a thousand times more intimate than fucking, and I wasn’t about to break my rule in the back hall of a seedy Las Vegas nightclub just because her daddy was Cornelius Castor.
Finally, Tori decided she wanted my dick more than she wanted to fight, so she gave a tight nod and reached for my jeans. While she worked my pants open, I reached into my wallet and grabbed a condom.
She may have been a classy rich girl and not a groupie, but I still wasn’t about to take any chances.
Rich bitches could be sneaky, too.
Once I was suited up, I didn’t waste any time, lifting Tori’s leg and thrusting inside her in one hard stroke. Throwing her head back, she let out a rough scream, and I placed one hand over her mouth to shut her up.
“This what you wanted, Tori?” I snarled, staring into her surprised eyes. “This is why you’ve been panting after me all these years, isn’t it?” She shook her head, trying to deny it, but I just thrust harder, calling her a liar with my body. “Feels good? Feels like you won? Like you’re sticking it to your daddy, fucking the bad boy he warned you about?” I could see her eyes watering, but whether it was from my rough handling of her body or my rough words, I didn’t know.
Didn’t really care, either.
Picking up my pace, I drove into her over and over, knowing she wasn’t ready, that she wasn’t going to come, but that was her problem, not mine.
