“Fuuuuccckkk!” Brecken cries out as he leans over her body, pressing her harder into the desk. He comes with his chest on top of her back, still holding her hands in place as he thrusts one last time. As soon as he’s done, he pulls off her and falls into the chair behind him. He’s breathing heavily, and his body is drenched with sweat. He looks down and removes his condom. After tossing it to the floor, he begins to stroke his somewhat hard cock while he watches me fuck her mouth. He likes to watch. We both do. He’s just as fucked up as I am.

The only warning she has when I come is my body jerking. It’s all I can do to breathe, let alone give her a verbal warning. I feel her swallow, and I can’t help but moan at how good it feels as she continues to suck every drop from me. It’s as if she’s draining all my energy out of me. As if she needs it to survive. “Shit,” I hiss through clenched teeth. Even after we use her, she still has the strength to finish the job. She’s such a fucking pro.

As I pull out of her mouth, her tongue darts out to lick what she missed. I release her hair and take a stumbling step back from her, as my legs are unable to hold me up. She gasps for breath as her head falls, hanging over my desk.

I fall to my knees before her; placing my hand under her chin, I lift her head to look at me. Pushing her bright red hair from her face, her dark brown eyes are heavy, her lips are swollen, and her makeup smeared. She still looks beautiful. “Such a good girl,” I whisper as I brush my lips against hers. She closes her heavy eyes and lets out a whimper as her body continues to tremble.

I kiss her. Soft and slow at first. She opens her lips, and I deepen the kiss. She doesn’t kiss back, but she doesn’t need to. I just wanted to taste myself on her tongue.

I pull away, stand up, and then fall back into my office chair. Brecken stands from his chair and lifts her up from my desk. He sits back down in the chair across from me, cradling her in his lap. Her head falls to his chest, and she wraps her arms around his neck as he softly runs his hand down her side.

“Fuck. You are amazing, baby,” he whispers as he leans down to kiss her.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I’m still trying to catch my breath when I hear my cell phone ring. Picking my pants up off the floor, I dig around in my pocket to find the key to the top drawer of my desk. Once I open it and move the little baggie of cocaine and my loaded gun out of the way, I pick up the phone.

“Hello?” I ask, still trying to catch my breath. I look up to see Brecken’s hand is no longer rubbing her side but is now between her legs as they dangle over the armrest of the chair. His lips are on hers, and he’s kissing her deeply as she lies there spent in his arms. I watch his hand move between her parted legs, and I know he’s now finger fucking her. He can’t get enough of her. And I can understand why. This is when she is most compliant—when she wants to be treated like a slut. Any other time, she’s just, well, Rachel—a pain in our asses.

I stand, needing a different view while I take this phone call. I turn to face the floor-to-ceiling window as I look down at the nightclub. We’ve been closed for hours now, so it’s just us in the building.

“Is this Cason?” a man’s voice asks on the other end of the phone.

“Yes.” I clear my throat when I hear Rachel cry out behind me. “But call me Case. What can I do for you?” I ask quickly, wanting to cut this conversation short since it sounds like they’ve started round two behind me. “Who is this?” I ask only half caring.

“My name is Blane. Blane Williams.” The name doesn’t sound familiar, but I didn’t expect it would. But whoever he is, I know it’s gonna be an important phone call. No one calls this number unless they have something big for me. “And I have an offer for you …”

CHAPTER ONE

Three months later

 

BLANE

I shut off my headlights as I pull into the empty and dark parking lot on this hot night in Chicago. I sit in the car as I take a deep breath. You can do this! I remind myself. This is what you signed up for. You said you could deliver, and now, you gotta prove yourself.

Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I unlock the door and get out. I look around at this part of Chicago. It looks deserted, but I know better. Things lurk in the shadows out here. This is where the illegal exchanges go down. This is where one mistake can cost you your life. No pressure.

I jump when I hear my phone ringing. My hands tremble and my heart races as I try to dig it out. I quickly silence the phone to quiet the alert. I then place it on vibrate to prevent any further noise before I read the message that Savannah sent me.

Do we have plans tonight?

I ignore it and place it back in my pocket. Right now, the only thing I can focus on is being out in the worse part of Chicago this time of night. And I don’t need to make plans if I don’t survive what I’m about to do.

I look up when I see two shadows coming toward me from the other side of the parking lot. This has to be them, right? Case had said to make sure I wasn’t late. And if the clock on my phone is correct, I’m ten minutes early. I take one last deep breath and start to walk to them.

What am I gonna say?

God, I’ve never been so fucking nervous in all my life.

They’re getting closer, and I take a second to look around and make sure there are no cops. That’s the last thing I want to happen. I’d hate to have to call my sister, Taylor, to come bail me out. She would kick my ass as she cried. I don’t wanna do that to her. I don’t want to be like our father. Who am I kidding? I already am!

“Are you Blane?”

I straighten my back as I turn to face the two men who are now just a few steps from me. “Yes, I am.” I clear my throat as if I have to cough, when it’s really to clear the squeakiness from my throat.

They come to a stop in front of me and just stare. My heart pounds in my chest as they look me up and down. Assessing me. Probably trying to calculate how to take me down if I fuck this up. Should I tell them I’m not carrying a weapon? Would that put them on alert?

Instead of saying anything, I do what they seem to be doing. Just stare. One man looks pretty clean-cut. I wouldn’t think twice about his lifestyle if I were to pass him on the street. He wouldn’t look like some big known drug dealer in the state of Illinois. His black jeans and white t-shirt doesn’t scream look at me; I spend my days getting high. Whereas the other guy, he looks homeless. His ripped jeans are beyond repair; I don’t think they are the kind that you spend a hundred and fifty dollars on at the store to look that way. Even in the dark night, I can tell his black t-shirt has stains, and he reeks of bourbon and tobacco. And the snake tattoo that is wrapped around his neck looks like it is going to jump out at me. Case told me what they would look like, but he never mentioned a tattoo …

“Are you Cricket?” I ask stupidly. I mean hell, of course, he is. If he weren't, he wouldn’t have known my name. Maybe Case just forgot to tell me that part.

“Cricket sent me,” the one with the neck tattoo answers.

Shit! This is not what was set up. Where in the hell is Cricket? Okay, think. It’s not your fault that Cricket didn’t show. Just make the deal and get the hell out of here.

I shuffle from foot to foot as I feel sweat bead on my forehead. I’ve never felt like more of a pussy than I do right now. I shouldn’t even be allowed to have a set of balls.

“Got the cash?” he asks.

“Oh, yes.” I start to dig into my pocket for the hundred-dollar bill.

I reach my shaking hand out and place the bill in his hand.