Page 25 of Pink Poison

“Shit,” Kash whispers, stealing my attention. “Del is coming.”

Fucking cockblock.

“You heard Kash, slut.” I brush my nose against her temple, briefly reveling in the heat of her skin. “You need to keep it together or we’ll be caught. Remember, if you so much as breathe too loud, I’ll gag you with my cock, and baby, I would love nothing more than to hear you choking on me.”

She sits straight in my lap again, forcing my fingers to rest deep inside of her messy pussy. It’s a poetic torture, to have to sit here like a civilized member of society, when all I want to do is finish what I started.

The heavy sound of footsteps sobers the table enough to cover our little show. “Is everything okay here?” Del asks as she approaches our booth. Her eyes flit to Stevie before reaching mine. If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man with his fingers buried in his stepsister’s cunt.

“Everything is great,” Graves drawls, clearly not thrilled with his entertainment being interrupted.

“I wasn’t asking you, hot shot,” she snaps. Refocusing her attention on the woman currently stuffed with my fingers, she repeats her question, “Is everything okay?” Stephanie nods, confirming that she’s okay. “I’m going to need you to use your words. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to contact authorities.”

“Shit. Del, she said she was fine,” Kash starts.

Del waves a hand up, stopping him in his tracks. “Shedidn’t say anything. Now, I’m only going to ask this one more time. Is. Everything. Okay?”

“Yep,” Stephanie quips, pitching her voice higher. She cozies up to my neck, pressing her insanely soft lips to my heated skin with a giggle. “I’m just keeping this guy company.”

“Great. That’s all I needed to hear.” Del nods, turning away from the table. “Remember, no weapons.”

“It won’t happen again, Del,” Kash snorts, shaking his head. Once the bartender is a safe distance away, he brings his attention back to Stephanie. “Blondie,” he sings. “You weren’t supposed to make a sound.”

“Oh, fuck yo—” she snarks before a moan works its way from her lips.

Stifling a laugh, I work my fingers from her soaking core, despite not wanting to leave it. “He’s right,” I say, gathering her attention back to me. “Open your mouth, little slut.” Her lips fall open on command as her pupils dilate. I raise my hand that is coated in her arousal slowly. “Since the bartender has eyes on us, you’re going to wrap those pretty lips around my fingers and suck them until they’re clean.”

Sliding my fingers between her lips, I tease her tongue, testing to see just how far she’s still willing to go to keep our game alive. Tentatively, her tongue against my fingers before her lips wrap around me.Fucking Christ.Precumsoaksthrough my jeans as she picks up confidence, moving her tongue between my fingers to clean me of her juices. The hate I hold for her ebbs away the longer she pulls me into her orbit.

“Keep sucking,” I command.

Turning, I face the man responsible for this situation. Bowing my head briefly, I allow him to truly start this meeting. “Right.” He coughs while unsubtly adjusting himself over his slacks. “Atticus would like to come to an agreement with the MC. You stop taking out his associates, and we both will offer aid in your search for whoever hurt your club.”

“How do we know that Atticus wasn’t responsible for the attacks?” Graves asks.

“You don’t, but I do,” Creed smarts. “Put it this way; you want Atticus working on your side, not—”

I slide my fingers from Stephanie’s mouth, letting her lips pop, interrupting Creed’s statement. “So, you want us to turn a blind eye to the skin trade.”

He nods. “Precisely.”

“When does Atticus want our answer?” Stone gruffs.

“Tonight,” Creed confirms, lowering his eyes to his watch.

Graves leans forward over the table, steepling his fingers under his chin. It takes him a moment, but the contemplative look in his eye disappears.He’s going to concede.Slowly, as if it almost pains him, he dips his head. “Alright.” He sighs. “We’ll look away so long as there are results. We scratch your back, you scratch ours.”

“That’s all we ask,” Creed says.

“And I want you to leave Stevie alone.”Oh, for fuck’s sake.“She’s no longer available to you,” Graves demands, leaving zero room for argument.

My stomach twists uncomfortably at his immediate defensiveness of her. As ifhe’sthe only one who would come to her rescue—be her hero.

“Possessive, aren’t we?” Creed mocks. His glassy gaze pins to his hired whore. “What do you think,angel?”

Angel?

What a stupid fucking pet name. She’s not an angel, never could be with the way her pussy was gripping my fingers. That woman is a succubus, a goddamn nightmare. She’s the embodiment of temptation and sin. Ain’t nothing about her holy or innocent.

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