Page 91 of Filthy Liar

“I feel good,” she breathes as she shifts in my lap.

She straddles my thighs, her fingers gripping the sides of my neck as she does. My hands leave her hair, my fingers curling around her hips. She dips her chin, and her eyes find mine.

“How good?” I ask.

The music grows heavier and louder around us as the food is finished and the partying begins. Everyone in this room is under extreme amounts of pressure. There is going to be a lot of releasing that pressure shortly. I’m personally feeling really fucking great, but I’ll never turn down more.

Gliding my fingers across her thigh, I slip them between her legs and gently, featherlike, dance them between her legs. She sucks in a breath, and her eyelids lower as she exhales a heavy breath.

“Good,” she moans.

Leaning forward, I touch my lips to the center of her throat before I speak. “You moan, I’m going to have to fuck you, baby.”

Her breath hitches, and she leans forward and nips my bottom lip. My cock stands at immediate attention. “Then fuck me,” she whispers.

Gripping her ass, I stand up, ignoring the room around me. The sex, the music, the drinking, and the drugs. I walk us back to our room. I’m going to fuck her again. Hard and fast. I’m going to take what she offers me and show her just how she affects me.

How she makes me feel.

How fucking perfect she is.

DILLION

Stretching,I open my eyes and wince as the morning sun beats ruthlessly into the bedroom. Rolling to my side, I look at the blank wall in front of me. I’m not sure why I haven’t noticed this wall before, but as I lie here, my center aching from Humble, it’s all that I can see.

From his fingers, his mouth, and his cock—all used expertly.

Very expertly.

Sitting up, I tug the blanket to my neck as I take a moment to wake up. I have a bit of a headache and a heavy head. I think about the girls, the women who were so kind to me last night. I can’t believe I was going to hide away from them.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I keep the sheet wrapped around me. The door flies open. I whip my head to the side to see who is standing in the doorway. I expect to see Humble, but that is not who is there.

It’s a man I recognize, but I don’t know his name.

His eyes widen, and he flicks them down to where the sheet covers my nakedness, then he smirks before he slowly brings them back up to meet my own. “Hey, babe. I’m Guts. Sorry to bust in like this. You’re needed downstairs.”

“Needed?” I ask

“Nash. Needs to talk to you about the Southern Mafia. King, too.”

I’ve only met them a few times. I don’t understand what they would want with me.

“The Southern Mafia?” I ask.

He dips his chin in a single nod. I start to ask him what I could possibly help them with, but I decide not to. Whatever it is that they want to know and think they can get from me, I’m going to do what I can.

Mainly because I hate the Southern Mafia in general, but also because I want to help this group. These men who have helped me. Saved me. Protected me. They’ve done more for me than the Southern Mafia ever have.

“I’ll be downstairs as soon as I can,” I call out.

Guts jerks his chin, then spins around and walks away. He doesn’t close the door behind him, and I wonder if he has a woman of his own. Surely, he doesn’t. No way would he leave the door open with a naked woman inside if he had his own at home.

Keeping the sheet wrapped around my body, I stand and move toward the bathroom. Instead of bringing my clothes and all my things with me, I just take the sheet. Closing the bathroom door behind me, I lock it and drop my sheet.

I turn to the mirror and take in my reflection. I should be surprised by how rough I look, but I’m not. I was drunk last night. I practically attacked Humble, and I’m embarrassed now that the sunlight is bright and the day is here.

My hair is a mess, my face red, and my eyes wild. I run my fingers through my hair and let out a heavy sigh. Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I release the flesh, then turn away from myself.

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