Page 31 of Painkiller (Sin Records #3)

S upposedly there are seven deadly sins, and I struggle with most of them. Though jealousy and I have a complicated relationship, I never considered it my biggest flaw. Until now—this moment when it’s turned into a maniacal obsession. A consuming need to take what I want. To possess at any cost.

In a fucking week, I’ve gone from interested but wary—I have thought of Casey, believe it or not—to fucking feral and unhinged over a girl I shouldn’t want.

A complicated mess that promises drama within our messy families.

Disappointment and pain for our sisters.

And she deserves so much fucking better than any bullshit I have to offer.

But it seems my subconscious made the selfish decision.

Whether or not she likes it, she will be mine. Tonight.

And afterward, I’m keeping her.

I’ve bypassed problem and ran headfirst into consequences.

And the truth is, I don’t care about the consequences because I’ve figured out that despite how absolutely insane I am right now, she makes me feel better.

It’s not a conscious effort, but the guilt, regret, and anger that usually eat away at me get pushed to the side.

My mind stays focused on her. Everything about her.

I don’t crave the drugs, the alcohol, or the violence—it doesn’t count when it’s over her.

I don’t need to be numb. I want everything she makes me feel.

I don’t need to bleed unless it’s for her.

And all it took to figure it out was a week of living in my head again.

It makes no sense. It’s too fast and hard to be real.

But when you find something that makes life look a little brighter and the pain of the past seems irrelevant, you don’t fucking question it. You latch on and ride it out as long as you can.

I’m not stupid. I know this is bound to implode. We clash. We have too much baggage, and we’re too much alike. Nothing about this says long-lasting relationship or forever. How could it when we don’t know each other?

But I’m not letting that stop me.

Like chasing another addiction.

Forever or for now. I’m taking whatever I can get.

When we enter the private room in the back, I tap my club card on the reader so the door locks.

The second her feet touch the floor, she spins and those fiery eyes blast me with fury.

Her mouth opens, but before she can spew whatever venom she has for me, I take her face in my hands and slam my mouth to hers.

It’s not a sweet kiss or easy and lazy. It’s feral and punishing. Our tongues go to war, fueled by her anger and my jealousy. Just like every other time, she tastes like salvation, temptation, and mine.

Then she pulls away, panting and flushed, eyes slashing over me like knives. “What the hell are you doing? You had no right to hit that guy.”

“What the hell are you doing up here at all?”

“I was working. You know, doing my damn job? That thing I come here to do.”

“Why are you working up here?”

“Dominic asked me to for tonight, and I wasn’t about to turn it down.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“You know why. Why do you even care? I haven’t seen or heard from you in a week.”

“I was out of town for work.”

“And you couldn’t call or text?”

My eyes close, trying to get my temper under control, tempted to tell her exactly why I avoided her. But I don’t. I don’t say anything at all. Simply continue glaring. Then she folds her arms over her chest, distracting me when her breasts push up. One small flick and…

”Jagger!” My head snaps up, looking away from temptation. “What the hell? You are costing me money right now. Money, I need . ”

“You need it so badly you’ll be a whore for thse assholes?”

The crack sounds like thunder in the small, intimate room.

The sting radiates across my cheek, making me clench my jaw.

Her tiny body moves closer to mine. Even in the ridiculous heels she’s wearing, she still tilts her head back to meet my gaze.

“You are a hypocritical bastard. How many of those whores have you paid to fuck? How many have you brought back here?”

“More than enough, but this isn’t about them. It’s about you. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Get over yourself, Jagger. I’m dancing. The only difference between Lincoln Center and here is I’m not pretending clothes are covering anything.”

I snarl, pissed that’s what she thinks is the difference. “You’re joking, right? I think the biggest difference is the men here aren’t looking for art. They’re looking for something to use the next time they jack off.”

“Again…Why do you fucking care? I’m no different or better than anyone else out there.”

“You are so fucking wrong. You are different. Know why?” I lower myself until my lips brush her ear. “I don’t give a fuck about them.”

She tries to disguise it, but I feel her tremor from my nearness. But I don’t believe for one second she’s ready to play nice.

“You don’t give a fuck about me either. You just want to fuck me.” She tries to shove me, but I wrap my hand around her wrist, then spin her, pressing her back against the door and pinning her with my hips.

Her lips press together, and her pupils grow when my hard cock presses against her stomach. “You and I both know if that’s all I wanted, it would’ve already happened.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I may be disgusting, but I’m fucking honest, and no one out there has the fucking right to look at you like this much less touch you.”

“First off, you don’t even know me.” Goosebumps pebble over her skin as I drag my knuckles over her shoulder.

I feel her nipples harden, pressing against me behind the thin fabric separating us, but she does a good job suppressing her reaction and continuing with our argument.

“Second, that’s neither your decision nor your business. Now let me go so I can work.”

My thumb brushes over her fluttering pulse as I breathe across her neck. “Not happening.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go.” But she doesn’t put forth any genuine effort to get me off of her. “That guy wants a private dance, and I’m not losing out on that money.”

“On what? A few hundred bucks?”

“For five minutes, Jagger. Five minutes ! ”

I wonder if she’s trying to piss me off. Or rather, make sure I stay pissed off. “You think he still wants a dance from you?” I scoff. “He just wants his mama to wipe his bloody nose and dry his bitch tears.”

“Ugh. You’re impossible! Let me go. With any luck, a few more will request a dance. That’s a lot of money that I need . Remember?”

My jaw works back and forth as I stare into her kaleidoscope eyes. A slow grin grips the corners of my lips, tugging them up. I continue stroking her neck, loving how her heart races. Her chest heaves with her anger and arousal.

Dipping my fingers into my back pocket again, I pull out my card and twist it between my fingers.

I drag the plastic slowly up her stomach and between her breasts.

Her breath hitches, causing her diamond peaks to brush against my chest. “You want to dance for someone?” I reach over and behind her, slapping my card against the reader again. “Then dance for me.”

“No.” Her eyes dance with desire, but her lips still lie.

The automatic lights dim, turning from a natural glow to pink-tinted, and music plays.

Stepping back, I strip out of my jacket, tossing it in a corner, and take a seat on the sofa.

I lean back, stretching my arms across the back of the sofa and spreading my thighs wide.

“I’ve already paid, Halfpint. Now entertain me. ”

Defiance lifts her chin, but she walks to the middle of the room.

Her hand slowly runs over her perky tits down her body as she slowly rolls her hips.

When a heavy beat drops, so does she, then grips her knees as they spread wide.

In one fluid movement, she shifts into the splits and leans forward, her eyes on mine, and brings her legs behind her as she belly crawls across the floor toward me.

Turning over, she lifts her hips and spreads her knees, undulating her body in controlled waves.

My eyes lift to the mirrored wall behind her, and the view makes my cock weep, watching her body work like a seductress tempting her unknowing victim.

She taunts and teases, staying just out of reach, and I let her feel like she’s in control.

Like this is her stage and her show, and I’m not just biding my time.

Through every beat and lyric, she moves as if the music owns her, and when it hits the bridge, she comes over to me, rolling her body from the floor to between my knees with fluttering lashes and her plump lip tucked between her teeth in alluring innocence.

Her hands run over my thighs as she rises to her feet. She spins and lowers herself on my lap, using my knees as leverage to grind her ass against me. When my dick jumps beneath the confines of my jeans, she looks over her shoulder with a sexy, seductive smirk as if she’s won this game.

Except it’s just begun, and now she’s where I want her.

I let the false sense of security wrap itself around her, continuing her illusion of power through the rest of the song. When it ends and she tries to remove herself, my arm snakes around her waist.

“Where do you think you’re going, Halfpint?” I rumble against her neck.

“Your song is up.” She’s breathless, but I know it has nothing to do with the performance she just put on. The woman dances for a living. Five minutes is a warm-up.

No. This isn’t from exertion. It’s from arousal. Hot desire and desperate need.

“You just assume I only paid for one.” I run my hand down her thigh before gripping her right knee and hooking it over mine as I slide my other leg beneath hers, then force her quads to spread wide.

The next song begins just as I trail my fingers to the inside, moving devastatingly slow until I reach her apex.

“J-Jager, wh-what are you doing?”

“I paid for ten dances, sweetheart, but I’d much rather do something else.”

She tenses, anger coiling her muscles as she struggles against me. “So you want me to be your whore? Is that it?”

I slip my hand from her waist, going between her breasts, and grip her face.

Twisting her head, I force her to look at me, then press my lips to hers.

It takes seconds before she relents, opening to me, and giving back everything I offer with lust-filled moans.

“You can be my whore or my private dancer. The choice is yours,” I mumble against her mouth.

“But you will earn every fucking penny I’m paying, and when we’re done, I want you to stay at my apartment. For the weekend.”

She pulls away, looking at me with wide eyes. “Wh-what?”

I want to find out what happens when I fall asleep next to her, knowing she’s there…if the nightmares will vanish.

I twist her head again until she faces the mirror.

Her eyes meet mine in the glass, wide, blown, and undone.

“I want you, and you want me too. Are you going to deny it?” I slip my finger beneath the black silk.

“Are you going to lie to me when your body tells me the truth?” I tug the thin fabric to the side and drag a finger over her.

“Watch.” Her eyes fall to where I play, dilating until there’s nothing but black.

Then I find an unexpected surprise that makes her jolt when I flick it. “What’s this?”

“My one act of rebellion,” she moans when I pluck it again.

“It’s fucking sexy.” When I slide between her lips, she’s dripping. Our close proximity…her hands on me and now mine on her…She’s not just turned on, she’s on fire.

“Jagger, we can’t.”

My chuckle is raspy and deep as I run my tongue over her shoulder as I tease her slick pussy, stroking her lips, dipping between them, touching her everywhere but never where she wants.

Her hips twist and gyrate, trying to force my hand to where she’s desperate to feel it.

My teeth scrape her soft skin, tasting her sweet and salty flesh before I reply, “We can. I paid remember,” I tease.

Another jolt of anger lashes through her, so I quickly add, “Unless you tell me right now that you don’t want this…

that you haven’t thought of my hands and mouth on you, my cock in you for days just like I have…

that this hasn’t been building since the night at the restaurant.

I didn’t recognize you in The 7th Circle because I’m observant, Poppy.

It’s because you are unforgettable. Your eyes, your smile…

So if you can’t tell me that you don’t want me right now, we can and we will do this.

” She shudders hard when I press my thumb against the metal, creating slow circles.

“Go ahead, Halfpint. Lie to me. Tell me you don’t want me. ”

“Casey. Phoebe.” Her chest heaves, and her breathing becomes ragged.

“Have absolutely nothing to do with this. This is about you and me. Any issues they have are theirs. Not ours.”

Her head falls back against my shoulder when I slide a finger inside her. Just an inch. Just enough to tease. “What do you want from me, Jagger?”

Everything. It’s what burns the tip of my tongue, and my mind reels, not understanding where it comes from.

“I want to make you scream my name in this room, then take you back to my apartment, where you will be mine for the weekend. On Monday morning, if you want to end it there, I’ll leave you alone.

” That might be a lie because this heady feeling she’s created might be too much, too addictive to give up.

She’s the hardest high I’ve ever had. My new little painkiller.

“But I swear before our time is up, I will devour you so thoroughly you’ll never be with anyone else without seeing my face…

” I grab her breast, squeezing it hard. “Hearing my voice…” Her peaked nipple rolls between my fingers, and she squirms against me with a pleading whimper.

“You’ll wish it were my hands on your body and my cock in your cunt because you’ll know no one will ever satisfy that bone-deep need like I can. ”

I slide my finger all the way inside her, finding her sweet spot just as I press my thumb harder to her clit, ensuring I stroke the tiny bar with it. Her pussy pulses around my fingers, clenching tightly. She’s about to go off.

And I stop, pulling them from her. Whimpered protests fall from her sweet mouth, and I say, “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you everything you need. ”