Page 41 of His Enforcer

Shit. Maybe he won’t see reason. He expects loyalty from me. I mean, he deserves it. He took me in when I was a homeless teen on the streets. He gave me a family and a purpose. I owe him everything.

“Who was that?” Jax asks.

“The brothers. They won’t leave me the fuck alone.”

Jax is mid-sit-up when he shrugs. “I mean, they’re hot in a gothic creep kind of way. Didn’t you let them fuck you that one time?”

I stare at him and huff. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“So, I mean, you kinda asked for it…the obsession, I mean. You’re pretty hot and a good fuck.”

“Yeah, well, this shit isn’t part of my job description.”

Jax ignores me, hopping up onto his feet and moving to the metal bar situated perpendicular to the floor and placed between the doorframe leading to the hallway. “Yeah agreed, but you know, we do it for the fam. Anyway, what do you think about me learning how to pole dance?” He asks this so seriously that I don’t answer for half a second.

“What? What the fuck?”

“Yeah, you know, I heard it’s a great workout,” he says before he pulls himself up, his muscles bulging. “So, what do you think? You think it’s too gay?”

I stare at him. “Jax, you fuck dudes occasionally. You’ve fucked me. That’s way more gay.”

“Yeah, but like. Is it though?”

I can’t cope with this shit. Not Jax, not the brothers, and not even myself.

I need to get out of here. Workout? Get fucked? I don’t know exactly, but I shower, pull on new clothes, and head out. I end up in the gym on the estate for a while, working out so hard that I nearly pass out. Then I shower again, trying not to think of Luca naked and wet with his big dick pressed out from his body. It doesn’t work. I think of it constantly. When I finally get dressed, feeling slightly better, I head out to get something to eat before driving home. Jax isn’t in the apartment when I arrive, possibly at a pole dancing class that isn’t gay. So, I putter around the apartment, watching a few hours of TV before the ache builds inside of me. It settles between my legs, making my balls heavy and my cock hard.

It leads me to Luca’s social media pages once more. I hate myself as I scroll, telling myself I shouldn’t look. My dick is throbbing and aching by the time I shut my phone off with a huff. Damn him. I mean, I shouldn’t have looked in the first place, but I did and now I’m hot and bothered, remembering him touching me.

For a straight man, he touches my dick far too often.

My hands slide down my face, and I grunt in frustration.

What I really need to do is get fucked. I need to go back to the club. My dry spell has lasted too long. I can’t just wait around, horny and miserable.

You know what? That night didn’t matter. Fuck this and fuck him. He’s held me hostage for far too long.

I stride into my bedroom with a purpose and open my drawer, pulling out a lacy outfit, one that accentuates my ass and chest. As I pull it on, I peer in the full-length mirror, adjusting my hair into asemblance of a style before rubbing lotion on the rest of me. When I’m done, I make sure to prep, getting myself ready for the fucking I’m going to take. My ass is filled with a silver plug, opening me up for tonight.

I’m going to get fuckedall the waystonight.

I need it more than I need to breathe.

Luca doesn’t own me. Not anymore.

As I think that, I grab some athletic pants and pull them on before shrugging on an overcoat. I look fucking ridiculous right now, but I don’t need anyone to see this lacy bralette I’m wearing. The only ones who will see it will be the people at the club.

As I stride to my car, my phone beeps. If it’s the brothers again, I may have to change my number. But it’s not them. It’s Tatum.

Hell, this may be even worse.

Tatum:

What are you doing? I’m bored.

Fuck.This never ends well, I think as I stare down at my phone. I could ignore him, pretend he doesn’t exist, but he does. And he’s the boss’s man.

I can’t fucking pretend anything.

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