Page 39 of Throttle

Yes, baby. More, take it deeper. Faster.

I want to watch as my cum drips from her rosy lips.

That’s it. Keep going.

Fuck.

With one more swift motion, I let loose and fill the hang-around’s trap with my fluid.

After wiping her mouth's corners, she stands. “I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, sexy.”

The sole reason I did was because I imagined Tequila, not you. That's what I wanted to say to her. But I’m not that big of an asshole. Or am I?

I just had a vivid fantasy of my dear friend giving me an amazing imaginary blowjob.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I send her away with disgust. With me, not her. Now, when I look at Tequila, I’ll remember being a pervert.

Lately, I haven’t had any desire to be with a woman. Adding to the mix was this Caleb guy and the rage of seeing Tequila’s bruises.

Charger casually drinks a beer while playing pool and chatting with Bullet. “Yo, brother. That was a fine piece of ass.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be home with a pregnant wife, dipshit?”

“Damn. Jules and Chloe are spending the weekend at her mom's. Reviewing wedding stuff.”

“More like trying to see how much money she can spend.” Bullet laughs and chugs the rest of his drink.

“It’s her dream wedding. She can spend as much as she wants. But fuck, man, my girls got more cash flowing in than I do. And the Fallen Star just keeps getting busier and busier. Speaking of which...” Charger finishes his beer in one chug. “I need to ensure Lucy gets out of there safely.”

“I assumed we had a prospect on her when she closes the bar by herself,” I say. Jules insisted Lucy was to never be alone. Without hesitation, we made sure she was never by herself at night. We protect her as if she were family. She’s Jules’s number one bartender at The Fallen Star and a good friend.

“Prospect, no. Tank, yes. Judging from the way he looks, I'd say he's passed out.” Charger nods over to our giant brother, who’s face down on the table, beer still in hand. Something happened between him and her, but none of them has ever said what. They suddenly hated the sight of each other.

“Lucy will rip him a new asshole later. Girl is feisty.” Bullet laughs and he’s not wrong. She is a pistol.

Charger departs while Bullet acknowledges me with a nod, adjusting his glasses.

“When you gonna get contacts, Vice?” I tease.

“Fuck off. I’m not a fan of the idea of something going in my eyes.”

I laugh. “Fair enough.”

“How are you recovering from the warehouse incident?”

“Almost healed.” Kind of. “There needs to be a lot more to take me down.”

“I trust that, man.”

I clap Bullet on his shoulder. “I need a favor, brother.”

He leans in, resting his elbows on the table. “What’s up?”

“I need you to find an address for me. Tequila’s.”

I am betraying her by doing this without her consent, but I’ve reached my limit. There’s a reason she hasn’t told me where she lives, and the fucking bruises have something to do with it.

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