Page 21 of That Sik Luv

I grip the necklace in my hand, ripping it off her neck. She gasps, clutching her skin where a dark red mark is already forming. Her eyes widen, but she tries playing it off. She crouches down onto her knees while the hard rock music continues booming through the room, turning to sit between my legs. Her hands slowly slide up my thighs, edging closer and closer to my cock.

“What can I do for you, baby? What is it you’d like, Bones?”

Bones. My nickname has clearly spread around the club for the infamous skull mask I wear anytime I make an appearance.

“Tell me about your last visitor, Brandi,” I say, glaring down at her on her knees.

She gulps, and I know immediately by the stiffness in her neck she was told to lie for him. Told to keep her little mouth shut if she wanted to keep making the good money.

I lean forward, grabbing my Glock from behind me and lazily scratching my temple with it, tossing the dark, unruly hair across my forehead.

“I’d ask you again, but I really hate repeating myself.”

Her mouth drops open as a whimper leaves her chest. She falls back, sitting on her heels.

“Tell me, Brandi,” I say, turning the barrel of the gun towards her and placing it softly on her forehead. Her chest heaves beneath her white, barely there button-up shirt that’s tied up into a knot beneath her breasts. “Is it true that if you breathe through your nose you can deep throat practically anything?”

I run the edge of the gun down her nose as her eyes stay focused on mine. I make it to her lips, and as tears fall from her eyes, her deep scowl attempts to burn through me.

“She has it coming,” she spits out at me. “She’s bound to fuck up my money.”

The mention of Briony has my nostrils flaring. I knew this bitch knew more than she was letting on. Being the whore of a man of power has its advantages. Whispers of business always infiltrate these places and women like her love to keep their secrets.

I grip the hair at the top of her head, startling her.

“Open,” I demand.

Her quivering lips part as she mouths the end of my gun. I feel her teeth hit the edge as she mumbles something around it before choking.

“Through the nose, remember? Just like you’ve practiced.”

She tries to say something, protest it, her eyes narrowing on me. A wordless threat.

“Sorry, can’t hear you, sweetheart,” I say sweetly, leaning forward and petting the side of her head. “Your lies and stories won’t keep this bullet from hitting the back of that head.”

More tears flood her face, her fake eyelashes a fluttering mess.

“Ready to talk?” I ask, and she nods quickly. “Good girl.”

I pull the gun from her mouth, keeping my grip on the hair atop her head as she coughs.

“What do they make you do?”

“Who?”

“Your highest paying clients? How do you perform for them?”

Her eyes dart around the room, begging for help as if someone were watching.

“Cameras are off, darling.”

Her eyes widen. “That’s not—“

“I don’t fucking care what protocol is for your safety at the moment. You realize that, right?”

She sniffs, glaring at me.

“How do you perform?”

---