Page 8 of O'Mega's Revenge
That warranted a moment of study. Not my tits, my face. “Well.”
His eyes shifted to Missile, who hopefully had caught on that we were in dangerous waters, and lifted an eyebrow.
“Who is she then?”
She smiled. “Name’s Missile. Spelled just like you think it sounds. I’m a right-ass bitch who loves to cut things. Pleasure to meet you.” She stuck out a hand like this was an everyday transaction.
He scanned her outfit, from sequined underwear to a knife hilt sticking out of the garter just above her boot top. “I’m charmed. They call me Crete.” He didn’t sound charmed.
“Cool. Yo, Tits, we leaving?”
Now I remembered the rest of the story. Crete as in concrete. As in cement shoes and the bottom of the lake.Shit-shit-shit-shit-shit.“Yeah.”
But as I answered, Crete insisted that we stay. Then turned his sights on me. “You’re Wolf’s girl. You must be here to find out if he has had his turn inside. He hasn’t, yet. And this party is for him, too. Isn’t it?”
My stomach hit my toes and rocketed back up to my throat. I smiled despite the desire to barf on this man’s boots. “Congratulations, baby.” I knew Crete was referencing his imminent promotion.
Wolf threw an arm over my shoulders.
The act of possessiveness wasn’t lost on our audience.
Whether it was planned or not, my eyes drifted to the fire. The man standing in the center of it all watched it all like a play. This amused him.
One invisible tentacle of control stretched out, ready to nudge the stage into motion.
I blinked, remembering a whisper from another time.“Those who now smile upon and embrace, would affront and stab, each other, if manners did not interpose.”This culture was like a French Court or political game, but with only a few rules, especially one of brotherhood. Ruthless men like the one I locked eyes with, and the one standing near, knew when to drop the mantle of camaraderie to ostracize a member and demote a brother to an enemy.
Missile and I were outnumbered, vulnerable, and definitely would not win any friends if we fought our way out. Submission to this mob was likely a horrible choice, as few were willing to stand up to the circle of power. Of those that would— be it out of friendship or love— we’d ruin their position in the club.
The part of me that wanted to fight even to death didn’t like the direction of my thoughts. But there were too many forces at work here. Jackson was appeasing the powers above him by throwing this lavish party for his outgoing VP. It would help him later if someone complained the club wasn’t paying enough. He could point to this night and say, how can you say such a thing when you drank my whiskey and fucked twenty whores on my mattresses?
If Wolf had just told me, I would have understood and stayed away. But now we were in deep with no good exit. And there were other ways to fight, even when powerless. I turned to him and stroked his shoulder, avoiding the vest that stood for his position in the club. “It’s too early to give you your present, isn’t it?”
He glanced at the man by the fire, then tried to figure me out.
“Too early? It’s never too early.” Crete slapped Wolf on the back and laughed.
There was a code we’d worked out long ago. Wolf pulled my hand from his shoulder and wrapped his much larger hand around it. As he wove his fingers in and out through mine, he hooked my pinky with his. A promise to never hurt me no matter what. His finger tightened almost to pain. He would do what it took, but he would never hurt me.
This was my choice. And as such, meant I embraced whatever the results were.
I dropped to my knees and unbuckled his belt. Before I went further, I stroked his erection through his jeans. Wolf went from semi-aroused to fully aroused. His mouth parted ever so slightly, and his breathing increased.
“Now that’s the way to celebrate, my man. Make sure she sucks you good.”
He gave Wolf’s back another slap and walked back to the fire, uninterested in seeing more.
I could have let it go, gotten up, dusted my knees off, and walked out with Missile, but now that I was down at eye level with Wolf’s erection, I couldn’t stop. I locked eyes with his and saw the desire in them. The focus on my lips inches from his dick.
“You all need to get a room.” Missile took off in the direction of the gate. I brushed my fingers over the ridge in his pants again before getting up and tugging him with me into the dark.
We stopped against an old pickup truck. Wolf worked a hand into my shorts and stroked my clit with his finger. With each circle, more of his hand slid inside and was freer to brush my seam, toy with my labia, and press against my mons. I reciprocated by unzipping his jeans and getting his erection free. Then I lavished it with slow strokes from tip to root and back.
“What the fuck were you thinking, Tits?”
“Kiss me.”
He complied, catching my tongue with his and nearing brutality with the urgency. When he broke free, he asked again.
