Indulgence (11 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Indulgence
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I was torn apart, but my body craved more, like a magnet for
pain. I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me, urging him to
pull me back onto him and fill me with his cock, to take me to the edge and
into the abyss again.

It was the same as last time. A violent fuck, followed by a
tenderness that seemed almost foreign to him. When I woke in the morning, he’d
be gone. I already knew how this was ending, but he was still here for now, on
top of my body, taking pleasure from it and his cock was hard for me.

He kept coming back to The Gambler’s Inn for
me
.

With a groan, he pressed the head of his cock against my
opening and drew back. My lips parted against his jaw, my skin rasping against
the stubble he’d forgotten to shave for a few days. His mouth sought mine and
he licked into me desperately as he filled my pussy with his length. As he slid
home, I moaned into his mouth, digging my fingernails into his ass cheeks and
raking them upward to his back.

He tore his lips from mine and lowered his face into the
crook of my neck as he drew his cock back and plunged in again. He fucked me in
long, deliberate strokes, slapping into my clit with just the right amount of
pressure to send sparks through my entire body.

Shivering in his grasp, sweat began to prickle on our skin
as he took solace in my body, fucking away whatever demon needed to be appeased
in his soul. I was fine with that. I was more than fine, he soothed my own
fears with his cock. The monster himself chased away the demons lurking
underneath my bed.

He never spoke, he never raised his gaze to mine, and for
all I knew I could’ve been just a faceless woman to him. No, that wasn’t true.
He could have anyone he desired, but he was with me. It was my pussy he fucked,
my mouth he filled with his cock.
Mine
.

X increased his pace, pounding harder into me as his orgasm
neared. I felt my own welling to the surface, just hovering underneath, begging
to be set free. It felt so fucking good, but his steady pace was only holding
it at bay, it was doing nothing to pulse it through my body.

I moaned desperately, thrusting my hips up to meet his,
coaxing him to fuck harder. I pleaded with my body and he listened.

X sunk his teeth into the crook of my neck and began
thrusting hard and my orgasm exploded through me. I came so hard, stars began
to prickle through my vision as I arched my back off the mattress, jamming my
chest against his. My pussy squeezed his cock, milking him as he kept pounding
and then his release was spurting hot and hard inside me.

We’d fucked in some of the most intense ways physically, but
this time something had shifted between us. After all this time running and
hiding and severing every connection between the human race and my new life, it
was X who I chose. I chose the monster.

I’d barely came back down to earth, when X pulled out,
rolling off me. His breath came in heaving gasps and he threw an arm over his
eyes, blocking out the world.

“X?” I whispered through a ragged breath.

He grunted, lowering his arm across the pillow. An
invitation for me to shift closer. I slid against him, tangling my legs with
his, my whole body humming. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long
sigh, closing his eyes.

Last time, I’d fallen asleep before him and woken after he’d
gone. This time, his guard had slipped even further and he’d fallen asleep
first. Something was troubling him, but I didn’t even know if it was something
I could help with. He wouldn’t tell me in the first place.

X awake was a whole can of worms that I wasn’t sure how to
take, but X asleep? He had a boyish ruggedness about him and a vulnerability
that had never seemed to have surfaced before. His cool, controlled exterior
had melted away and something of the man underneath seemed to seep out, whoever
that man was.

X turned his head toward mine, whimpering slightly in his
sleep, his arm tightening around me. Stiffening slightly in his grasp, I peered
at him, waiting for his eyes to fly open and catch me trying to crack his
code...but he didn’t wake, he just went on dreaming whatever fucked up scenario
was playing out in his head.

Recklessly I traced a finger over his tattoo, wondering the
meaning, wondering why he had a space of nothing where his heart should be. I
stilled as my finger ran over raised lines all over his ribs. The tattoo hid
them so well that I hadn’t noticed, but his whole side seemed to be covered in
scars. Some were long, some were short, some were tiny round lesions and some
were raised more than others. What the hell?

X was a closed book ninety-nine point nine percent of the
time and ironically, I seemed to get more from him asleep than awake. He was
the ultimate puzzle. A puzzle I desperately wanted to solve.

Sighing, I nestled into his side, relishing the one sliver
of quiet time with him before morning. Because who the fuck knew if I’d ever
get it again.

 

Chapter Thirteen

 

X

 

Something was wrong with me.

Mercy Reid. Mercy Reid and her fucking pussy. That’s what
was wrong with me.

I stared at the pieces of the puzzle plastered to my
apartment wall and rubbed my cock through my jeans. I’d left her sleeping in
her bed hours ago, sleeping like an innocent little lamb unknowingly waiting to
go to the slaughter. I kept going back and she kept letting me. Stupid little
girl.

I could still feel her on my cock, even after the hour long
shower scrubbing my skin raw.

Was it a new compulsion rising to the surface? I didn’t
know. I didn’t know shit about why I had to do things. I just did them and
everything was right.

I forced my thoughts onto the ghost that the imagination of
Crazy Eddie, from the teahouse, had conjured. I didn’t know if I believed in
doppelgängers and evil shadow selves, but I did believe that people had the
potential to do dark things, no matter how good they believed themselves to be.

If Alison Crawford had changed her appearance, then the
photo stuck to my wall of the virginal looking University graduate meant shit.
Getting out a black marker, I leaned against the wall and colored in her hair.
Black, like the darkness Crazy Eddie had said she’d turned to.

Dropping the marker I pressed my forehead against the papers
stuck to the wall.

I needed to kill. I needed to feel blood run through my
fingers. I needed the pain and suffering. My soul was black and I needed to
feed it with death. I needed to erase Mercy Reid from my mind and body by
completing the contract and crossing out a face. I needed to fulfill my
compulsion and everything would be right in my twisted world again.

Snatching the photo, I shoved it into my pocket and slid on
my heavy black coat, leaving the Royal Blood leather on my sofa. I didn’t need
anything tying me back to the Club when I went out asking questions. This had
to go down low key, under the radar.

I was close, I could feel it. Freedom was just out of reach,
waiting for me to stride forward and take it. I just had to find where Alison
Crawford was hiding.

I knew how to persuade people and if she was in the city…I’d
find her. It was only a matter of time.

I was coming for her and I wouldn’t stop until I had what I
wanted.

 

*****

 

I’d been to almost every dive and seedy establishment in the
west side of the city before I strayed close to familiar territory. The east
was crawling with Necromancer assholes, and I doubted Alison Crawford was
stupid enough to seek refuge there.

I stood on a dark street outside a club, a few blocks over
from The Gambler’s Inn. Staring up at the sign over the door, I curled my lips
in displeasure. The Satricorn was the epitome of sleaze. It was more than a
strip club, it operated several of Royal Blood’s shady dealings and served as a
place to send the men Greggor was looking to bring into the fold for a little
bit of fun. A free fuck or a free suck. Their words.

People on the street called it Fancy's and not because it
was a fancy fuck hole. Fancy's was a completely ironic name for a dirty as fuck
operation.

The bouncer coughed loudly and I strode forward, pushing
inside. Thumping dance music blared through the entire place, already rubbing
me the wrong way. A woman in nothing but a pair of black shiny high heels
danced around a pole, flashing her bits to the group of men seated around the
stage.

The thought of indulging made my cock shrivel up. Cheap.
Nasty. The whole place stunk of stale liquor and something a little more
disgusting. Male ejaculation.

Leaning over the bar, I gestured to the woman serving. She
was this big breasted, bleached blonde, Barbie doll. Fit right in.

“What can I get you?” she yelled over the music.

“I need to speak with your boss,” I replied.

“That’d be Sammy,” she said, raking her gaze up and down my
body. Obviously liking what she saw, she leaned forward, squeezing her tits
together with her arms.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” I said blandly.

She huffed, pissed that I’d disregarded her so bluntly, and
disappeared out back. Surveying the club, I spotted several CCTV cameras across
the roof. One over the bar where I waited, two angled at the area in front of
the stage, another over the exit and one over the bathrooms. They looked cheap,
the vision, if they caught any, would be grainy at best in this darkness.

I straightened as I caught sight of a man walking towards
me, the blonde bitch from behind the bar following in his wake. His hair was
slicked back, his shirt was some offensive kind of red silk and his suit jacket
was ill fitting. He looked the fucking part all right. He must be this Sammy
fucker. I now understood with perfect clarity why people called the guy Fancy
Freddy behind his back.

“You looking for the boss?” he asked, raising his voice to
be heard over the music.

“You’re him?” I replied, looking the guy up and down again.

“Yeah, that’s me. You’re that Royal Blood guy,” he said,
waving a hand at me. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he said, “Yeah, we’ve
heard about you.”

“I’m sure you have,” I drawled, not paying any attention to
the mostly naked women hovering around the edges of my vision. Sex was one
thing I never had to pay for and I didn’t intend on starting any time soon.

“You know, some of you bikers are our best customers,” Sammy
went on. “I’d be glad to give you a freebie.” He clicked his fingers and the
closest woman slinked to his side, eyeing me with delight.

I eyed her with distaste. I didn’t share and I especially
didn’t share bodily fluids with a hundred other men that had been through her
in the last week.

“Not. Interested,” I said.

The woman pouted, sticking her tits out even further. She
obviously liked being treated as an object, the stupid little girl.

“I’m looking for someone,” I said to the sleazebag, getting
to the point. Holding out the photograph to him, I raised an eyebrow.

Sammy plucked it from my fingers and peered at the altered
photograph of Alison Crawford. “She’s a pretty one.”

“Have you seen her before?”

“Not sure. There was a woman here a few weeks ago looking
for a job. Similar hair, same eyes. Could be her. She was a lot thinner,
though. Bitch wasted my time.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Wasted your time? How?”

“Went through the interview, served a couple of drinks, then
just walked out. Never did come back.” He handed the picture back to me and
wrapped an arm around the woman, who was pouting at me with come fuck me eyes.
“She would’ve been a good money maker. Her tits were amazing. And her ass. Fuck
me.”

I raised an eyebrow. Could be Alison, or it could just be
some woman with a similar look about her. Either way, it was the only lead I
had since flashing her picture in all the dives on both sides of the river. Any
lead was a good lead when I had a Necromancer scythe hanging over my head.

“She did leave her application here,” Sammy said, knowing
who paid to keep his club running and trouble free. That was a greedy son of a
bitch right there.

“Do you still have it?”

He nodded back over his shoulder. “In the office.” Pushing
the woman away, he led me across the club and into a hallway. Storerooms and
offices. He opened a door at the far end and I followed, leaving it ajar behind
me. A row of windows overlooked the street outside, a cream venetian blind that
hadn’t been cleaned in years, covering the glass.

Sammy cracked open the filing cabinet and slipped out a
piece of paper. “Here you go,” he said. “She didn’t fill it out properly, the
stupid bitch, but that’s all I’ve got.”

“What’d she do?” he asked as I took the form from him.

Scanning the application, I snorted. She hadn’t even filled
it out correctly, there was information missing all over the place, but there
was a partial address and that’s all I needed.

“None of your business,” I snapped, shoving the paper into
my pocket.

Sammy held up his hands in mock defense. “Hey, just helping
out.”

“I’ll be sure to mention it to the men who matter,” I said,
holding back the urge to roll my eyes. Men like this, they did themselves no
favors exploiting women, laundering cash, dealing drugs. It was petty, but it
was those kinds of seedy businesses that kept Royal Blood flush with cash. That
and the contracts I carried out for them.

“CCTV?” I asked, glancing at the computer on the desk.

“Can’t remember the day she came in.” He sat at the desk,
clicking the mouse and bringing the computer to life. “I can-”

I held up a hand. “Don’t bother.”

“You sure? I can get a message to you.”

“The form is enough.”

I didn’t have time for that shit. It had already been six
months since the attempted hit on Sykes, and time was slipping away. Alison
could be living in the city under all our noses, or she could be long gone. My
money was on her being in the city, close to her target. Her entire family had
been brutally murdered and that had to cut deep. If I were her, I’d regroup and
plan a second attempt in greater detail. A foolproof plan to get what I wanted.

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