Read Nocturnes Online

Authors: Kendall Grey

Tags: #tattoos, #Contemporary, #alcoholism, #erotic romance, #guitars, #Erotica, #hardcore, #rock stars, #strippers

Nocturnes (14 page)

“Fuck.” He scrubs his face. “Five. Million. Dollars. To be a member of a fucking sex club.”

“It’s worth it to some people. And they can do anything they want. If you had that much money, wouldn’t you be tempted?”

“Only for you.” He turns away quickly.

My heart thumps a little jig. I get his fascination. I’m a beautiful woman. Stunning. I could be a model if I wanted to be. But beyond this skin housing nothing but unmet hopes and dreams, what the hell does he see in me?

Is it the attitude? The fact that I seem unattainable? Is he itching for a status-symbol girlfriend?

No one’s ever looked deeper than my surface to explore me. No one until Rax. I want him. I
need
him. If only for an hour or so.

I touch his arm. “Let’s fuck.”

Side A: “Backdoor Man”

Lola drives us to the Botanical Gardens in City Park. The fifteen-minute ride is cluttered with unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, considering my stormy mood. I sure as fuck ain’t getting my hopes up.

My head swims in a kiddie pool filled with alcohol. Visions of finally getting inside Lola’s pants taunt me. Only problem is, my dick seems mildly interested. Go fucking figure. Pining away for months for a woman I can’t have, and when the opportunity knocks with a vengeance, Peter St. Petersburg decides he’d rather nap than bang.

I’d blame it on the vodka, but why lie to myself?

It’s goddamn Toombs’s fault.

Wish I hadn’t thrown that fuckin’ liquor bottle down in the alley. Sure could use it now.

Lola parks on Victory Avenue. At this time of night, it’s quiet with hardly any traffic. She grabs some lube from the glove compartment and a thick blanket from the trunk. I don’t dare speculate about the lube, though my cock hardens at the prospect of anal. I glance below my belt.
’Bout damn time, you lazy fuck.

She leads me away from the entrance. “Guess I’m breaking all kinds of rules for you tonight,” she says over her shoulder. We edge past a cluster of trees. Looking both ways down the street, Lola tosses the blanket over the top of the wrought iron fence and gestures to it. “You first.”

“So if it’s electrified, I get zapped instead of you? Nice to know you care,” I tease.

Unsure of my coordination with so much liquor pumping through me, I grasp the metal, climb to the top, toss a leg over, and jump down. Miraculously, I land on my feet. I grin at her through the slats and unzip my fly. I release my cock and shake it fully awake.

Most girls giggle and shriek when they first see my tattooed trouser snake, but not Lola. Her eyes beam in the poor light and latch onto it with blatant interest. With a finger and an amused grin, she traces the tattooed snake’s tail at the head of my cock up the shaft and around my waist. Then she lifts my shirt to visually follow the scales across my chest. I turn so she can see my back.

“Now I get the whole picture.” She caresses the viper’s head on my neck. “Nice piece of temptation you got there.” The reference to Eve and the snake in the Garden of Eden isn’t lost on me. Pretty damn fitting tonight, actually.

Hidden from the street by the trees, she withdraws a small square packet from her back pocket, opens it, and drops to her knees. Palming my dick, she tugs it between the metal slats, working with fast, expert snaps of her wrist. She unwraps the condom and slips it over the head of my dick, then slides it down with her mouth.

“Fuck…” I grasp and twist a handful of her hair into a makeshift leash, urging her harder against me. “Goddamn, your mouth is fucking divine.”

A subtle swivel of her neck brings her eyes up to mine. She focuses on me while her tongue shimmies up and down my pole as gracefully as her body does onstage at Nocturnes. I put some hip into it and fuck her mouth like I used to do to Toombs—

Shit.

I take my dick back and step away. Mentally scolding myself, I beckon her toward the fence and look up to the blanket. “Get over here,” I say as I shove my cock into my pants and zip it in tight. The strain against my fly is painful.

She licks her lips, glances upward, and easily scrambles to the top. Her legs swing to my side, and she holds herself in place until I catch her around the waist. Once I’ve got her, I hike Lola over my shoulder and yank the blanket off the fence.

“Put me down.” She laughs, the sound of her voice coaxing a smile out of me. So smooth and flawless. Just like the rest of her. You can’t manufacture perfect, but Mother Nature got lucky with Lola.

Bending at the knees, I set her feet on the ground and straighten. She stares up at me as if to say something, but she doesn’t speak. I want to kiss her so badly. I wedge a foot between hers, trace the back of her arm through her sweater from wrist to elbow and down again. Stunning to the point of intimidation. My fingers wander to her waist and tiptoe over the lip of her jeans into the warm darkness within.

She sucks in a breath. Her eyes flutter closed. I explore. My mouth glutted with spit and nowhere to put it, I swallow hard. Her pussy opens for my eager fingers, luring me in. I’m so fucking thirsty for a taste, but visions of her with those three guys stuffing her full of their cocks warn me not to imbibe.

God knows where this woman has been. She herself said she was a whore. Not like it’s a big secret. So, why does the thought of sharing her fucking piss me off?

Because even though she whores her body out for money, she still deserves respect. Based on what I’ve seen of her at work, it doesn’t seem like she gets much.

I’d like to meet this asshole boss of hers. Give me five minutes alone with him. After kicking his ass and stuffing his mouth with his own balls, I’d swing Lola into my arms and whisk her away to a tropical island where we’re the only two people around for miles. Nobody else would ever have her again.

Mine. All fucking
mine
.

Me, Lola, and a bottle of vodka.

A shove rouses me from my drunken bullshit musings. Lola takes the bundled blanket off my shoulder and marches toward a brick walkway. “Come on, Rax.”

I love the way my name rolls off her tongue. Especially now that she calls me the
right
name.

I follow, stumbling through the foliage, barely dodging tree branches reaching out to grab me. We follow the sound of falling water to the rose garden. Short hedges line the brick paths. A statue of a woman stands proudly in the middle of a fountain.

Lola pushes me ass-first onto the concrete outer lip of the fountain and straddles my hips. I settle onto my back. She springs my erection free again and says, “Since you’re buying, you can do whatever you like as long as you keep the condom on.” She bites her bottom lip, and uncharacteristic shyness spreads across her face. My dick gets harder. “And no bodily fluid exchanges. Except maybe kissing.”

I sit up, pushing my dick into her jeans. “I always sample the pussy before I pound it.”

She smiles and meets my lips with a kiss that somehow makes me even drunker. “Not this one, you don’t. No offense, but it’s not like either of us is a hundred percent…safe. Am I wrong?”

I sigh. “No. Not wrong.” But I fucking
love
eating pussy. And tasting it ensures quality. Pussies are like fine wine. Toombs and I usually try the entire groupie collection first with a lick apiece and then select the best one or two for—

Goddamn it. God
fucking
damn it. I shake my head.

Wrists resting lightly on my shoulders, Lola frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Why can’t I get Toombs out of my head? Why can’t he leave me alone for one fucking night so I can be with this girl?

“Nothing.” I shove up her sweater and squeeze her big tits. Goddamn bra is right in my way. I unhook the clasps at her spine and bury my face between those delicious white mounds. I bite a nipple. She hisses, lurching backward.

“No marks, remember?” she says gently. “You can’t leave any marks.”

“You never let me have any fun.” I thrust my cock up and initiate some dry humping. She remains still, eyes leveled on mine. Scolding. “Fine,” I reply. “I’ll try to be gentle. Now, where’s that lube you brought?”

She touches her forehead to mine, and something fucking weird happens in my stomach. It’s not the sick feeling of being hungover, but the sick feeling of falling for someone when you’re subconsciously fighting with everything you’ve got not to. Lola’s holding my heart for ransom. And her terms ain’t fucking cheap.

She pulls away, and digs around in her purse. The connection broken, I feel naked, and not in the good way. There’s Toombs staring down at me, accusing. Wish I knew how to lose his ass.

I push my jeans halfway down my thighs. Need to fuck this girl and get it over with. Make Toombs disappear. Make the whole fucking world disappear.

Just need some relief from everything in my life. Alcohol has been my go-to for de-stressing, but since Lola won’t give me that, she’ll have to give up her ass instead. I’m through fucking around. I snatch the lube, squirt it up and down the rubber, and ease Lola onto her back on the fountain’s concrete rim. I unbutton and yank her jeans down and pull one pant leg all the way off. The denim dangles from her ankle. Shoving her thighs open to a 180-degree angle, I salivate at the sight of two perfect holes staring up at me. She lifts her hips, giving me easy access to both. I grasp the undersides of her knees, squeeze my sheathed cock, and drive that fucker right into her ass with no warning. Her eyes pop wide. A sharp inhale charges into my ears, and her body tenses with the blow.

I don’t even give her a second’s recovery time. As I fixate on the hairless pussy, wondering what she tastes like, my cock throbs, screaming inside her ass at the tight freedom, the hot trashiness, the raw containment. With two knuckles, I stroke her clit fast as hummingbird wings. Her back arches from the stone beneath, and a long, low moan eases past her lips.

Drive, pull, drive
into her hole. Teeth clench, cheeks tighten, sweat blooms.

See, I knew I could fuck a girl without Toombs.
Take that, motherfucker.

Surrounded by clean, natural air for the first time in ages, I inhale the scents of blooming flowers and fresh-cut grass. My eyes feast not on the floral beauty around us but the human variety grunting and panting beneath me as each stroke rips her. Balls deep inside her, all I want to do is cut loose, coating her insides with hot cum, marking her, owning her, dominating her.

Like I used to do to Toombs.

Through the alcohol and sex haze, I slow my violent jabs, pause the pussy flicking, and lean in for a kiss. Lola’s hands loop around my neck, and the tension in her expression eases as our lips converge and engage in an intimate dance of their own. She rides my dick, up and down, slow highs and fast lows.

“Who is she, Rax?”

I startle and stare at her. What the hell is she talking about?

No, don’t ruin this. Don’t try to get into my head while I fuck your ass, Lola.

Fingers tangle softly through the back of my hair, and her lids droop to half-mast. “I can be her if you’ll let me. I can be any fantasy you want.”

Um…No.

She lifts her arms above her head and lays them on the concrete, exposing her tits to me. I dive in for another taste and moan into her nipple. Her legs tighten around my thighs, guiding me in and out of her ass. The tune of the nocturne I wrote for her plays in my mind.

The music in my life is going to kill me.

Fuck.

I straighten and gaze into her eyes, picking up speed again. “No games or fantasies. I want you to
come
, Lola. What do I need to do to make that happen? I ain’t gettin’ off without you.”

I spit on my index and middle fingers and jam them into her pussy.

“Oh God. Yes. That’s it, Rax. Just like that, baby.” Her eyes roll back, her body grooves to the song in my head. I turn up the dial on her ass and pussy, thrusts hitting home in perfect time.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” She moans like a porn queen. Practiced, polished, and perfectly engineered to harness maximum ejaculation potential. “Fuck my ass, Rax. Pump that pussy. Goddamn it, fuck me, baby.”

I grin and bite her bottom lip, taking it hostage. She tries to kiss me around my teeth, but I just smile and hold her in place. Her pussy squeezes my finger. Her ass clenches my cock. The rest of her body tautens as she holds her breath. Practically levitating off my dick, she pushes my fingers away and takes control of her cunt, jamming three fingers in fast slams, riding herself and me all at once.

“Fuck!” She powers through an orgasm, and despite the rubber in my way, I feel her release through the ultrasensitive nerve endings. If goddamn Toombs wasn’t hanging around my neck, I’d come too.

As it is, I do the only thing he and the booze will let me. I fake it.

“Goddamn, Lola…I’m coming in this pretty little ass of yours,” I lie. Doing my best impersonation of myself, I shoot an imaginary load big enough to fill the fucking condom and then some. I drop my chest to Lola’s and hold the pose until her breaths slow. Toombs’s ever-present ghost makes it easy for me to lose my erection inside her.

I pull out and snap off the condom, balling it in my palm. I gently tug her up to sit, and she shoves the hair from her face. Eyes downcast, she rearranges her clothes.

The water falling from the fountain fills what would otherwise be silence. I’m glad of it. I have some serious shit to deal with. I guess it’s time I admitted it.

I’m still in love with Toombs.

Side B: “Burnin’ for You”

Without BOB, my Battery Operated Boyfriend, orgasms are pretty hard to come by, but that one was a doozy. Full-body, top to bottom, in and out, ass-banging, clit-rubbing, motherfucking
gold
. A brain, body, and soul explosion of the best kind. I’m so used to faking it, I never saw this one coming.

Shooting a glance at Rax, I can’t help but wonder whether he enjoyed it as much. Didn’t seem like he was entirely with me, but maybe it’s because he’s drunk. How he managed to keep it up while under the influence is a mystery, but certainly not impossible.

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