Page 89 of Desert Loyalties
Cheng turns pale.
Then she looks at me. Christina and I stand.
“As to the charges of Count Two, Witness Tampering, and Count Four, Obstruction of Justice, this court finds Mr. Drake Lloyd not guilty on both counts.”
I blink. For a second, it doesn’t land.
“Mr. Lloyd, you are released from supervision. Bail conditions are lifted, and this matter is dismissed. Court is adjourned.”
The gavel falls like a fucking thunderclap.
And just like that, I’m free.
Chapter 37
MANDRAKE
"OUR FUCKING BOY IS FREE!" yells Ramon, popping a bottle of champagne right next to my ear.
It's chaos. The first party I’ve ever seen where club girls and old ladies are tearing up the same dance floor. Apparently, all it took to unite the factions was me beating four charges and an obscene amount of alcohol.
Skye’s by the bar, her old domain, lining up shot glasses on a tray with the focus of a surgeon. She’s surrounded by a crowd of drunk warriors, the same old ladies who had my back through every minute of my house arrest.
The room pulses, bass in the floorboards, laughter ricocheting off the walls, perfume and spilled liquor thick in the air. Someone's dancing in a fur coat. Someone else is crying and hugging the tv. It's the kind of night that feels like it only exists in stories people exaggerate years later.
I slide in beside her. Skye doesn’t look up, she just passes me a shot.
No words. Just the glass in my hand.
Throwing it back, I lean in and kiss Skye. Some of the tequila’s still on my lips, and it spills into her mouth. She doesn’t flinch. Just swallows my tongue.
I barely feel the old ladies leave to find their men.
We’re already moving, my hand twisted in her hair, till we hit the counter behind the bar. She’s pinned, and I’m greedy, and every motherfucker here sees it. “Let them.” She moans, and I feel it in my cock, this hunger, this need, and the bottles rattle above us.
I’m all over her, pulling up her dress, dragging it over her hips till her red, sexy as fuck panties are exposed. My vision goes dark. I don’t care. I want her. I already have her.
My hands are everywhere, on her, under her, lifting her. The whole fucking room is watching my back as I devour my woman. Brothers, clubwhores, the old ladies, they’re all back there. But right now, all I care about is claiming Skye. Unzipping my jeans, I pull out my cock, and shove her panties aside. She’s wet and ready, and I’m already pushing in.
With one thrust I sink deep into her pussy, causing her to cry out. Even through the music I can hear how her breathing changes. Throwing her head back, she exposes her bare neck to me. Mine. I feel her tighten around me with every hard, fucking thrust. No holding back. She doesn’t want me to. Her nails are digging deep into my arms. Her heels are crossed at my back, pulling me closer. I’m relentless, and she’s taking it, taking me, and I don’t care who’s watching.
She shudders and gasps, and I’m close, so fucking close, when she pulls me in and I’m gone, buried in her, losing it, losing all of it to her.
I don’t pull out. Just stay there, breathing, her arms tight around my neck, her lips at my ear, till the noise of the room comes back in.
Everyone’s still watching, and I feel it like a fist in the air. The envy, the jealousy, the heat. It’s a fucking victory.
I kiss her again, deeper this time. Less tequila, more hunger. Her fingers curl into my shirt, and I feel her smile break against my mouth like she knows exactly what this is.
Around us, the noisesharpens. Someone whoops. A glass shatters. One of the old ladies yells, “That’s right, baby!” and the whole place erupts.
We pull apart, breathless. Skye’s eyes glitter like she’s seeing the version of me I almost forgot existed. Free. Untouchable.
“You gonna make a habit of that?” she asks, voice low, playful.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, grinning.
“Every chance I get.”
