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JACK

FIVE MONTHS LATER

S haking off tonight’s blonde and ignoring her… voluptuous tits, I scan the glass shelves behind the bar and consider what next ingredient will help me find the numb.

A shot of bourbon; makes me angry.

A shot of tequila; makes me forget.

A shot of vodka; gets me moving…

The bartender stops in front of me with an expectant gaze. “Scotch on ice,” I rumble. Helps me not roll into a ball and die. “And a beer.”

He nods and turns away. “Comin’ up.”

Blonde Tits, whose name I genuinely cannot remember, eagerly rubs herself along my arm and whispers secrets into my ear.

Blowjob. Let’s go home. I want some time alone with you.

I know she’s good at what she does. We’ve done it before; last week… or maybe the week before.

She sucked my dick and helped me forget for 3.2 seconds.

Unfortunately for us both, my come wasn’t even done sliding down her throat before real life came back and kicked me in the ass.

It’s getting worse, not better.

I haven’t fought in almost half a year. Hell, I haven’t trained in my family’s gym in half a year, but people still know who I am. Fuck yeah, they do. I’m Jack the fuckin’ Jackhammer Reilly.

Women know me, and dudes want to be me. Chicks in stable, long-term relationships will fuck around on her man if I look at her right .

And I do.

The chicks with wedding rings are my favorite kind. Feeling that metal slide along my dick when she’s blowing me gives me that extra kick, that extra asshole buzz.

Being an asshole is my new favorite hobby. It helps the same way booze and girls do.

Collecting my fresh drinks without offering to buy the blonde a round – because I’m a cheapskate – I turn away to scan the dancing crowd.

I need to find someone to spend time with in the dark.

I don’t need more than an hour. Hell, I’m not insecure; I don’t need more than ten minutes. It doesn’t take long, and a warm pussy always feels better than my hand. But not even Blonde Tits is gonna do it for me tonight.

Pulling my shoulder down, she trails wet kisses along my jaw and up to my ear. Moving my hand around to her ass, I knead, and drink, and watch other girls dance.

A group of beautiful girls – swaying, dancing, laughing – has my dick twitching. Sipping my drink, savoring the flavor, and squeezing blondie’s ass, I watch one of the four – a brunette – slide her hands along her ribs, and imagine it’s my hands on her ass.

The group of girls – who all definitely have fake IDs, or at the very least, they’re fresh as fuck – dance and sway and almost have me smiling. Two blondes, the dark brunette, and one with curly, mousy brown hair, just like Ste–

Nope.

Squeezing my blonde’s ass again, I remind myself that I’m an asshole and that I can survive without my good girl. I don’t need her curly hair. I don’t need to see her beautiful eyes. I don’t miss her perfect body.

Nope.

I’ve survived this long; I can keep going.

One day at a time.

One shitty night at a time.

One lonely, excruciatingly painful breath at a time.

The world has forced me to survive without her, so now I choose how I live it; I choose to be an asshole.

“Let’s go, Jack.” Blondie’s tongue plays with my ear lobe. Her teeth come out to play and have my eyes rolling.

She brings her hand up to cup my cock, but still, she gets nothing from me.

I can’t get hard for her because I’m too busy watching the dancing girls. One of them makes me hard, but the other reminds me of my late girlfriend and kills it again.

Drunkenly closing one eye to block out the mouse, I use the other to watch the blondes and brunette; thinking about all three at once has me stirring to life.

I’ve never done that before…

I’m all about new experiences these days…

They’re young, but they’re legal. And if they’re not legal, then they’re fuckin’ good with a makeup brush. They get it exactly on point.

No, they’re not close to my twenty-five, but maybe twenty-one. I might be high, I might be drunk, but I’m pretty confident they’re twenty-one…

Maybe.

This is my sister-in-law’s club, and we don’t allow the underage or the riffraff in. It’s a decent bet that if I fuck one – or all – of them, I probably won’t go to jail. Good deal.

Eyes tracking the brunette’s swaying hips, I study her rolling movements, her sensual thighs, her tiny stomach showcased in a tiny top that leaves several inches of her trim midsection bare.

Smiling at the back dimples an inch above the belt of her low worn skirt, I turn back to my blonde and push her away with gentle hands. “Turn around for a sec.”

Her eyes go wide. “Huh?” She actually looks excited, like I’m gonna fuck her against the bar. Ignoring her silent offer, I pull her top up and stop on the ugly tramp stamp where the brunette’s dimples are.

Blondie paid someone to stab a blurry dolphin and flowers into her skin. And if that ain’t bad enough, she went and put ‘Breathe’ in the space above.

Wow.

Turning back to the back-dimples and no tramp stamp, I sit my drink on the bar and watch her dance. Turning slowly, seductively, like she knows I’m here, and she knows she’s dancing just for me, she slides gentle hands along her body, turns, then stops with a daring grin when our eyes meet.

She doesn’t stop rolling her hips, but she stops spinning. Laughing with her girlfriends, but studying me as closely as I study her, her body hums for me and sets me on fire.

The good kind of fire.

Not the my-girlfriend-just-died kind of fire.

Studying me curiously, her dark makeup has her looking a little goth. Sexy, straight, almost black hair falls to her elbows. Sexy, almost black eyes watch me. And a black top and skirt, topped off with a black hair band thingy, all come together to make her beautiful and trendy, and so fucking intriguing, my teeth almost ache.

Almost.

Large pouty lips have mine tingling. Already plump, they dare me to bite and make them swell.

“Jack.” Blondie slides her hand along my chest. “Are you listening to me? Do you wanna get out of–”

“No.” Walking away and letting her hands drop, I step through the parting crowd… Yeah, they fucking part for me. They part, or they get run the fuck down.

Moving toward the side of the club where the girls dance, it occurs to me halfway across the dancefloor that maybe they’re hiding all the way over here for a reason. Maybe they’re not looking for company.

Wanna know how many fucks I have to give?

She’ll tell me no if she doesn’t want it.

Nodding at my buddies as I pass the main stage, I grin as Scotch rips raspy lyrics up his throat and tweaks his guitar with talent. He tosses me a fast nod, but his attention quickly goes back to the main crowd, to the gyrating bodies, to the people who pay his food and electric bills.

Stopping by the small huddle of girls, the one with dark eyes doesn’t back down from my stare. I look her up and down, appreciating the sexy heels that give her a few extra inches and bring her eyes up to my chin.

Slim, but muscular thighs have my mind imagining all sorts of filthy shit as my dick grows in my pants. When her eyes – bright, light blue under all that makeup – meet mine, she traps her bottom lip between her teeth and makes my mind up.

Her friends move around me like they’re used to guys approaching their group. They encase me and the goth chick in the middle, though she and I aren’t dancing.

“Hey.” Lifting my chin, I watch her eyes flash across my face.

I know where she’s stopping, the same places all women’s eyes stop; my eyes, light blue like hers, my dimple, singular and on my left cheek, my teeth, straight and pearly white.

My mom might’ve been a bitch, but her side of the family gave me nice teeth and perfect vision.

Bravely nodding back – no blush, no evasion – the girl of contradictions smiles. “Hey.”

“Come with me? ”

Extending my hand, offer and demand, she studies me for only a second before she nods and places her hand in mine. “Okay.”

The erection I couldn’t muster for blondie now rages and presses against my zipper. That’s cool, because three minutes from now, I’ll be nestled inside this beautiful woman, and I’ll be numbed for another night.

Leading her toward the upstairs offices – toward Tina’s office – and letting us in with my set of keys, I slam the door behind us and spin fast as a snake.

Diving in tongue first, no time for chatter, no time for pleasantries, I do exactly what I wanted to do – I clamp my teeth over her bottom lip, and when she whimpers and wraps her arms around my neck, I smile and dive in for keeps.

She’s beautiful.

She’s delicious.

And for the next little while, she’s all mine.

Reaching down to grab her ass – perfect round globes, tight skin, lean muscle – I pull her close until my cock presses against her belly and her tongue comes out to be an equal in want.

Her hands explore my chest and shoulders, still big and broad, despite my lack of training. I was always a big guy – thanks, Dad – but training as hard and as often as I have since I was fifteen years old has landed me with a shit ton of extra muscle that even the abuse and misuse I’ve put it through this year can’t ruin.

I haven’t stepped foot into my brothers’ gym in months, and yet, I’m still bigger than any of them – even bigger than Bobby, the oldest.

He used to be the world heavyweight champion, but he retired the year I decided to go pro; we didn’t want to fight each other, neither of us would’ve had the heart to fight the way it needed to be fought, so Bobby stepped down and I stepped up.

That belt has been in our gym for a decade.

Despite my semi-occasional recreational drug use – that’s becoming less and less occasional, and more whenever-the-fuck-I-feel-like-getting-high – I still do my own circuits at home; chin-ups, pushups, plyos, calisthenics, so I haven’t lost a whole lot of what I had.

Working out is basically all I do all day. That, and drinking.

Goth girl’s hips press toward mine to remind me she’s here. Pushing back, I elicit a sexy little groan from the back of her throat, and return the sound when she sucks on my tongue and pulls me close.

Lifting her leg and resting it against my hip, she has my hand coming down in an instant to cup her ass and balance her. Sliding my hand along her ass cheek, I groan when I find nothing but bare flesh, and as my hand slides further around, finally finding the tiny scrap of lace, I smile into her mouth and slam my hips against hers.

Yes, please.

Feathering her hands across my stomach and under my shirt, her fingertips explore my abs, then my chest, then using her other hand, she takes mine and slides it down, down, down… and under her skirt.

Yes, fucking, please.

Sliding my hand between her legs, then my fingers beneath the scrap of lace, I smile at the wet flesh revealed, only to freeze at the smooth metal ball. “Holy shit.”

“Ohhh,” she groans and bucks her hips forward.

“You’re pierced?”

“Mmhmm.”

Tapping the metal over her clit, I pull her lip between my teeth and bite until she groans. “Does that make it feel better?”

Nodding, she squeezes her eyes closed. “Mmhmm.”

I explore her wet flesh, tease her folds, slide against the smooth skin, but I stop before breaching and moving inside. I may be an asshole, but I’m an asshole with some morals. I need permission.

I love women. I respect women. And I’m not actually a pig, I just like to pretend. It’s easier than letting people get too close.

The more people you love, the more funerals you have to go to.

“Hey.” I wait until her beautiful eyes meet mine. “We’re good?”

Silently, she nods and pulls me lower.

“You’re twenty-one?”

“Uh-huh.” She presses her tits against my chest as her hips chase my hand. “I’m twenty-three. We’re good, I promise.”

Good enough.

Inserting my middle finger and pushing in deep, I imagine the tightness pressing in around my dick instead of just my finger.

I definitely chose the better girl to spend my night with.

Groaning, she moves her hips to the same tune she was just dancing to, riding my hand as her breath races and her small body falls heavily against mine.

Her right leg, the only leg holding her weight, trembles.

Pulling my hand out of her panties and grinning at her strangled cry of frustration, I lift her against the door so her legs wrap around my waist and my hips hold her up.

See. I am a gentleman .

Pushing two fingers in deep, she lets out a beautiful, almost painful squeak, but her tongue dives back into my mouth and her legs squeeze tighter around me. Her pleasure drips between us, flooding my palm and slicking my hands with her responsive warmth.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.” Breathing out on a fast pant, her hands knead my shoulders and her lips cruise my jaw. Nibbling along my neck, she bites down and draws a hiss when my skin stings.

Her mouth is like magic.

Reaching around to my back pocket and taking a condom from my wallet, I drop the wallet to the floor and tear the foil open with my teeth.

Smiling playfully, her light blue eyes pierce, despite the charcoal makeup smudged all over them. Lifting her chest off mine and resting her back against the door to give me space, she allows me to prop her with my thighs and maneuver my zipper down.

Pulling my dick out and sliding the condom down, she lets out a deep, gravelly half laugh, half moan. “That’s a good looking dick.”

Flashing a smug smile, my eyes come up to meet hers. “Yeah, it is.”

Carefully lining myself up, I savor the heat emanating from her core, and with one smooth move, I slide in and almost collapse with pleasure at how tight she is.

Her legs, seizing around me, squeeze and tighten – but it’s not the good kind. Her breath escapes on a pained exhalation, and her face presses into the space between my shoulder and neck. “Shit! Fuck.”

She’s so fucking tight, my balls draw up and threaten to explode on the one and only thrust.

I might not be insecure, but damn, I don’t ever plan to finish on one thrust. That’d kill the confidence I’ve spent two and a half decades building.

“I’m sorry.” My hips still. My entire body stills. “Are you okay?”

Breathing in long, deep inhalations, she works through the pain. “Yeah. Just give me a sec. That hurt.”

Fuck.

Holding her with my hands, but pulling back to let her down, she shakes her head and locks me in with her legs.

“Don’t go. It’s okay, just…” She breathes slowly. “Just wait a sec.” Beautiful, big blue eyes hold me captive. Bringing her hands up into my hair, her nails lightly scratch my scalp and her billion bangles clang and slide against each other. “Okay.” Nodding after a full minute, she rolls her hi ps and forces me to bite down the pleasure filled growl that rips through my chest. “Alright, we’re good now.”

Concentrating on not taking the only thing my body wants right this second, I don’t move a damn muscle. I don’t impale her the way my body screams at me to do. I want it, but that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmm.” Humming, she closes her eyes and rolls her hips. “Definitely sure.”

Pressing slowly inside her, I groan and try not to blow my load from the fierce pleasure her vise-like grip kindles inside me. “You feel so good, Bambie.”

“Mmm. Your dick feels good.” Rolling her hips, she fucks me more than I’m fucking her. “Feels so good.”

Pressing closer, faster, deeper, once she adjusts, I take pleasure in the deep thump of her ass slamming against the door and the tremors of pleasure that roll through her body each time my pelvis presses against her clit ring.

I’ve never been with a girl with one of those before, but each time I so much as brush past it, it sends spasms of pleasure rocketing through us both.

Pressing my face against her neck and pulling the fragrant flesh between my lips – strawberries and cream, just like her lips – I slam deep inside her and stop worrying about hurting her.

We’re good now.

She’s adjusted.

Her hair surrounds me, so soft and silky.

I never take time to be careful or smell hair or taste lips. Normally, I turn them around so I don’t have to see their faces when I disrespect Steph. I prefer the anonymity. I want to get laid, I want to fuck the morally uncaring women, and I don’t want to see their faces and know it’s not the person it should be.

But here we are, this doe eyed woman has my face near hers and her scent in my nose, and I can’t even say I hate it.

Squeezing her ass and slamming to the bass of the music downstairs, her thighs flex and ripple in my palms and her arms squeeze my neck to hold me close. Riding to our climax together, her breath comes in sweet little pants and her pleasure slicks between us until she lets out an almost soundless scream, unheard by anyone but me, since the band is so loud.

“Jesus.” Falling forward and squishing her against the door, my still healing lungs work hard to catch my breath and keep me standing. “Credit where credit’s due, Bambie.” I slide my tongue along her bare shoulder. “You feel pretty fuckin’ good.”

“Um…” Laughing awkwardly and brushing her hair back, her fluttering walls continue to bring me pleasure. “Thanks. You felt pretty good, too.”

Sliding out and setting her on her feet, I try to ignore the sweet whimper coming from her lips at my sudden disappearance.

Bunched skirt and top askew, she fixes her thong, her skirt, fusses with her hair thingy and sets it back on properly. When she finishes and her hair comes out too neat, she messes it up and arranges the hairband until it looks like I tugged on her hair while we fucked.

She’s purposely going for that look.

She had already gone for it before I fucked her.

Turning away, I peel the condom off and tie a knot in the end. Tucking my dick back into my pants and picking up the foil wrapper, I toss that and the used condom into my sister-in-law’s office trashcan like the asshole that I am.

I’ve fucked, now it’s time to annoy her enough that she never wants to come back a second time.

Turning back and stopping at the metal glint in her nose, I frown and study the ring and try not to consider it cute.

She’s got a real rock-chick thing going for her.

I should be sending her on her way, but instead, I reach forward and brush the silky hair behind her ear. Leaning closer, I count; one, two, three… seven earrings. In each ear. Studs and rings decorate the entire shell.

Dragging my gaze along her trim body, I stop on her waist to find a dangling bar at her navel.

Ears. Nose. Belly. Clit.

“You like to stab yourself?”

Tilting her head, deep blue eyes question mine.

“Your jewelry,” I clarify. “You have a bunch.”

Dropping her gaze to her stomach, then biting her lip, her eyes come back up. “I guess I do enjoy it. It’s a hobby.”

Our hobbies are somewhat similar.

“You got ink?”

Send her away!

Her plump lips, made plumper by my teeth, roll between her teeth as she studies me. Her eyes flick to my arms, at sleeves of ink I started on my eighteenth birthday and have continued and spent a small fortune on since .

Steph sat with me for hours and hours in Ian’s tattoo parlor. She said she wanted to come with me, she wanted to spend the time with me, watching the long process, but she never gave in. She never got any of her own.

I dared her a million times to tattoo my name on her ass. I promised she’d never regret it… even blushing until she was beet red, she stood her ground and said no.

Fuck! Stop thinking about Ste–

“I might have ink.”

Blue eyes. Not green. Black hair. Not brown. “You go to Inkalot?”

She nods thoughtfully. “I might know Ian…” Pausing, she studies my face and sets my gut on fire. Not the good kind. “What’s your name?”

All sarcastic retorts freeze on my tongue and leave me gasping. I don’t even remember the last time someone asked me that.

I don’t mean to be a conceited jerk, mostly , but I’ve been on signs and magazine covers and in TV ads since I was seventeen.

It’s refreshing to be asked, instead of told who I am.

But refreshing or not, it’s time to wrap this shit up. Shaking my head and buttoning my jeans, I open the office door. “Let’s go.” I don’t want to chit-chat with this chick. I don’t want to get to know her, and I definitely don’t want to study her ink or think of her as cute.

I just want to go home.

Taking her arm and walking her down the hall, I push her into the ladies’ bathroom, then continue walking down the stairs and out of the club.

I’m done.