The Deal Dilemma

Drew talked me into a drink and went for a second being Davis stuck to soda all night. It took us twice as long to get the bar in order after closing, considering my entire staff was buzzed, but it was a small price to pay to enjoy the bar to ourselves.

The girls passed out a couple hours ago, having dragged out our stash of blankets from the back and stuffed them in a clean booth, but we guys made it through sippin’ and bullshittin’ about nothing. Damn good way to end a long weekend, and thank fuck, the bar’s closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, when there’re no paid events on the books.

I’m sleeping all fucking day tomorrow.

“I say we head to the diner. Davis, wake up!” he shakes her. “Diner’s open all night, yeah?” Drew’s drunken grin is sloppy. “Who can’t do with some pancakes right now? Crew’s treat.”

I scoff, but for real. “I could eat some pancakes.”

“I can make bomb-ass pancakes.” Layla yawns, popping up.

“Yeah, but then we dirty our kitchen, when we can eat and not worry about the dishes.” Willie wraps her up, steering her toward the door. “To the diner!”

Laughing, we follow him out and to the restaurant.

Davis gets a little pep back in her tired steps once we arrive, and the sun’s peeking through the windows. She pulls out her work perks, and dashes to the back, sweet-talking the chef, I’m sure, and we’re overstuffed within an hour, our portions seemingly double the normal.

Six a.m. rolls around, and low and fucking behold, the black hat dude waltzes in with a crowd of clones.

Davis is standing at the counter, getting change for the tip and chatting with her boss, and the dude spots her immediately.

In my peripheral, my brother looks to me, but I don’t take my eyes off the guy, and moments later, he’s stepping up behind her.

Davis whips around with a chuckle, and the guy says something we can’t hear. This time, she doesn’t look at me when he reaches out and touches her. Sure, his palm is simply planted on her upper arm, but that’s too fucking much. She should know this.

Clearly, she doesn’t, because five seconds later, he steps into her more. Pair that with whatever he said, and her cheeks tint the tiniest bit of pink. A blush.

My blush.

He’s buzzed, coming off a night of partying and feeling brave. I’d bet on it. Guaran-fucking-tee it, when his hand finds her hip in his next move.

I don’t realize I’m headed their way until her wide eyes land on mine, and then so do his…a solo second before my fist comes down on his nose.

Blood pours on contact, and he stumbles backward, falling on his ass like a clumsy fucker.

Davis gasps, her hands flying to her mouth.

He shoots to his feet quicker than I expected, and his friends jump up too, rushing this way. Of course, mine make it first, and the lanky frat-looking fuckers freeze at the sight of four tatted-back built bastards.

“What the fuck, bro?!” the dude shouts, touching his nose.

He doesn’t step up, but I do. I push closer and closer, forcing him to look up to meet my eyes, the poor, shortish son of a bitch.

“Touch her again, I’ll break your fingers, one by fucking one. Got me?”

“Crew!” she shrieks.

The guy’s eyes narrow.

“Find a new fucking diner and a new girl to play with. This one’s mine.”

“Oh. My god.” Davis glares.

I’ll deal with her ass later.

Two men in one fucking night? What the fuck?

I’m about to lose my damn mind.

She makes me insane.

Always.

Fucking.

Has.

“Yeah, you and your box of Brads should go.” Drew puts his hands on his hips. “My brother’s known to fuck shit up, and by shit, I mean shitheads. Like you.”

“I concur.” Julius grins, leaning his elbow on Drew’s shoulder. “Been a minute since his fists have been set free, and I think he’s itchin’. Don’t be the scratch.”

The guys stand there, unsure of what move to make.

“Oh, Jesus H. Christ, get the fuck out already!” Layla’s no-bullshit shout gets them moving.

Moaning and groaning and holding on to their last bit of pride, the Frat Row fuckheads walk out the door.

My boys laugh as they go, but I’m too busy staring at Davis, doing my best not to yank her to me and freak the fuck out.

The girl pretends she doesn’t feel my frown on her and turns to her boss. “I’m so sorry, Rachel. That will never happen again.”

“It might.”

Davis shoots a quick glare my way, but focuses on Rachel, who waves her off, sipping from a small coffee cup.

“It’s fine, girl.” She tries to hide a grin. “We were getting bored waiting for the next rush anyway.”

“I could entertain you,” Julius offers.

She flips him off then off she goes.

I turn to Davis, who narrows her eyes even more.

“What?” I snap.

“Home. Now.” She shoves by. “Layla, thanks for everything. See you in a few days.”

Purse hanging from her fingers, she charges out the door.

“Uh-oh, Mom and Dad are fighting.” Drew grins.

I ignore his ass and hurry after the brat, watching as she yanks her car door open, throwing her purse inside.

“You’re seriously mad right now?” She shakes her head, and my eyes narrow. “What the fuck do you have to be mad about?”

Her gaze slices up, meeting mine over the hood. “Is that a joke?”

“Am I laughing?”

She does then, but there’s no humor in it as she climbs inside and slams the door closed.

I drop into my seat, glaring at her. “Talk, Davis.”

“Oh, no.” She whips out of the parking lot. “You don’t get to play clueless, Crew. There is no freaking way you don’t see why I would be royally pissed off at you right now!”

She skips the yellow light and barrels into the complex parking lot across the street.

“I know why I’m pissed, yeah. Not sure why you would be. In fact, you should be apologizing.”

“What?!” she shrieks, speeding into her parking spot and throwing the car into park. “Are you insane?”

Leaning over the center console, I scowl. “Are you incapable of listening?”

“What are you talking about?!”

“What did I say to you, Sweets?” My voice is nothing but a rumble. “No one touches you. You heard it, agreed to it, and guess what that little bitch did?” My eyes shoot wide in mockery.

Davis’s mouth falls open, and then she growls, jumping from the car.

I tear the keys from the ignition, since she left them behind, and rush after her.

“You are absolutely ridiculous! I can’t even believe you right now.”

“Don’t act like I was out of line. I’ll do it again tomorrow if I have to.”

She shrieks, whipping around to face me, and I shove the keys in the lock at her side.

She glares. “You are the most frustrating—”

The door down from ours opens, and Jess walks out, garbage bag in hand.

Fucking seriously?

His attention flies this way immediately. “Everything okay?”

Davis clears her throat. “Sorry, yeah, we—”

“Get fucked, pretty boy. This has nothing to do with you, so you can stop pretending like you take your trash out at six in the fucking morning.”

Davis gapes, slowly swinging her head my way, but she says nothing.

“Davis?” The dumb fuck dares.

“She’s not yours to worry about.” My glare hits him quick and he frowns from her to me. “Tell him, Davis.”

“Okay, caveman, calm yourself,” she hisses in a whisper, before facing the blond dick. “We’re fine, Jess. This is not a fight, it’s just… well, us.”

Yeah, fucker. Us.

Me and her.

I turn the lock and use my body to propel her inside, slamming the door behind us.

Me and fucking her.

Davis

The man has gone mad!

Shaking my head, I hustle into the kitchen, tossing my purse onto the tabletop before facing him. “Okay, what the hell? Is there some sort of apocalyptic shit happening I’m unaware of? Like testosterone falling from the sky, maybe?”

“What?” he snaps, kicking his shoes off with angry movements.

“Well, there’s something in the water making you go ham on the male species, I mean, shit! Were you about to go knock out our neighbor too?”

“I didn’t knock anyone out, but if I had to, I wouldn’t feel bad about it.”

A scoffed laugh leaves me, and I nod. “No, of course not. You’re a perfectly sane man.”

“I would be if people would stop trying to touch you.” He glares.

I study him a moment and his eyes only narrow further.

“K. Well, you can’t just beat people up. You have to stop doing that.”

His head tugs back. “I can control myself just fucking fine when I feel the need to. Do I enjoy fighting? Yeah, I fucking do, done it for fun plenty of times, but I don’t go around looking for one.”

“Oh?” I charge toward him, flick the bloodstain on his shirt, and he smacks my hand away.

“That was one dirtbag and he had it coming.”

“Uh-huh.” I nod. “And the blond hottie guy from the bar the other night?”

Crew’s jaw tics. “He was twice your age and you’d have known that if your vision wasn’t blurred by rosé!”

“What about the guy at the Chinese New Year’s parade a few years back, or the one at Great America.” I rush on, “Oh, and the skater guy from the pier and that musician on Haight Street who pulled me onto his lap for the encore when I tipped him?”

“Stop.”

“Were they all ‘too old?’” I mock, crossing my arms.

“Davis.”

“Who knew age gap was a trigger for you.”

“You are a trigger for me!”

“Yeah, me and the four measly years between us, right?”

“No.” He jerks forward, gripping my chin. “You and your smart-ass mouth,” he snaps.

“I—”

“I wasn’t done,” he cuts me off, tone dark with irritation, but laced in racy roughness. “You’re fire. The spark in your eye when you’re angry and how it deepens when you fight me. Defy me. Push me, and girl, you live to fucking push me. The low pitch of your laugh is triggering, especially when it follows a dirty little word you dared to say. And the way your tongue curls when you swipe it along the corners of your lips?” A quick moan leaves him, the kind that follows the taste of your favorite chocolate bar. “I could go on and fucking on. Want me to?”

Yes, yes, I do, but…

Swallowing, I’m forced to look away, but my gaze is called right back to his when I try to make sense of this. “Does that mean you think I invite men to me with my body language?”

He slips into my space with purpose, his nose nearly touching mine. “If that were true, there’s no way you’d still be a pretty, pure little thing.”

My throat runs dry, but I manage to whisper, “I’m confused.”

“I know. That’s a trigger for me too.” His gaze locks onto my lips, and his teeth sink into his own. “You have no fucking clue what you do to a man, and baby, you do it without a single fucking ounce of effort.”

My nerves come to life, an electrifying sense of possibility coursing through me. “You called me baby.”

Crew chuckles, but it’s hoarse, and his eyes come back to mine. “Had to call me out on that, huh?”

“Just noting it for my mental record book. This one’s getting its own page.” I swallow, my body buzzing. “Crew?”

He tips his head a bit, his gaze transfixed on my mouth, as if his body is standing before me, but his mind is miles and miles away. Maybe even in fantasy land.

“This would be a perfect time for another lesson.”

“What kind of lesson, baby?”

There it is again.

Muscles meet mush.

My heart beats wildly in my chest, but I don’t let it stop me from asking for what I want. “A kissing lesson.”

His brows furrow in frustration, but his feet shuffle closer. “Kiss you as a lesson?”

I nod.

His frown deepens, leading me to say more.

“It’s just, I really want to kiss you right now, so what better time?” I defend so fast, my words run together. “I figure I can get what I want and you can coach me through, tell me what I do wrong and how to make it be—”

My words are cut off when Crew’s lips crush mine, but not in a kiss. They hold there, right against me. He speaks with an angry rumble, his eyes sharp and depriving my lungs of the oxygen they need. “You want to kiss me, that is what you said.”

“I did,” I whisper. “I do.”

Him being pressed to me like this, our lips mingle with our words, it’s too much, and by too much, I mean not at all enough. I can’t take it.

I taste his tongue, quickly slipping mine past the thin opening of his mouth.

Crew groans, eyes closing, and then he’s nudging me backward, his closed fist pressing at the center of my ribs.

Back, back, back, my last breath held hostage by my lungs until I’m met by the cool wall behind me, where it whooshes from my lips in a hasty, shaky exhale.

“You want to kiss me,” he repeats. “Not as part of our deal. Not as a lesson. Not to learn a damn thing.” His palms flatten on the wall on either side of me, completely caging me in.

It’s a glorious feeling, to be surrounded by nothing but him.

“Davis.”

My eyes snap open—I hadn’t realized they closed.

“Hmm?”

Crew presses closer, his body flush with mine, his thumb stretched beneath my chin. “Tell me what you want.”

“I told you,” I rasp. “I want everything. Anything.”

“And then what?” he wonders, his chest rising and falling rapidly against my own.

“And then I’ll probably, definitely, want it again.” I look into his eyes. “I’m not good with moderation, you know this. I eat all the Halloween candy in a day, buy a dozen donuts and share only when I have to. It’s a problem.”

“Baby?”

Good god, how this man makes the endearment sound like a dirty little prayer.

“Crew.”

His eyes pop up, returning to my lips just as fast.

“While your rock-solid restraint is impressive, I have no doubt your self-indulgence is far more to speak about.” I grip his wrist, pressing against the hard planes of his chest. “Make a girl’s year and kiss me already.”

His thumb glides up, pressing on my lower lip and tugging it down until it pops free of his touch. He licks his own then. “Your year, huh?”

“Year, decade, who’s counting?”

“Me, Sweets. I’m counting… to three.”

The hand on my neck slides back, his fingers diving into my hair. “One.”

His right hand finds my hip, and he pushes, locking my body to the wall, preventing a possible attempt at escape.

As if I’d dare to move and change his mind.

“Two.”

My eyes snap to his, and his brows dive in the center, the hand in my hair shaking in anticipation as he lowers his head, his gaze locked on mine.

Or maybe I’m the one who’s shaking.

Vibrating.

Freaking pulsating from the inside out.

“Thr—”

I cut him off, slamming my lips to his.

Crew growls, those fingers in my hair tethering, tightening, and tugging in sweet, sweet punishment.

Good fucking glory, his lips, his flavor.

His existence.

The hand on my hip slides up to my ribs, squeezing, and my body slumps against the wall, held up by nothing but his. I grip his sides, and his muscles flex beneath my touch.

The hold he has on my hair doesn’t let up, his other hand rising to join, twisting and turning me at his leisure. He shifts until I’m exactly the way he wants me and I’m so for it.

It’s like I said, I want what he wants, how and when he wants it. Always.

But it can’t hurt to drive him further, to test his control.

To hope it snaps into teeny tiny pieces.

I grip his shirt, the material bunched between my fingertips as I keep him close, thrusting my tongue beyond the seal of his lips, and he meets my stroke with several of his own, tangling our tongues in tantalizing bliss.

He massages my mouth with masterful precision, the stroke of his thumbs against my neck sending a shiver through me, and when he shifts against me, his erection hard and throbbing along my stomach, I rip away with a gasp.

Crew doesn’t allow that. He comes in for more, stealing my breath, and damn, if I’m not dizzy in his arms. Drunk on his kiss. Only when he’s good and ready does he offer a small reprieve, but it doesn’t exactly count because, as fast as he frees my lips, his are feasting on my throat, neck, and collarbone. He tastes every bit of skin he can reach, without moving his body from mine, and then a sharp, swift pain zips through me as his teeth sink into the base of my neck, just to the right of my hairline. Right where he teased me with his tongue last night.

My eyes roll back, my toes curling into the floor at my feet as I dig my nails into his chest.

His rumbles on contact, and this time, there’s no denying it’s he who vibrates before me. A tremor runs through him, and my mouth curves in a small smile.

As if sensing it, his head snaps up to catch a glimpse, and he glares, dips down and nips at it, pulling my lower lip into his mouth and sucking. Hard. A whimper escapes me, and he nods, as if he expected the sound to slip from my mouth.

I clench my thighs, desperate for release, so I slide my hands lower, dipping them beneath my dress and lifting it to my hips as I press my fingers over my clit.

I moan into his mouth and his eyes snap open, and then look down to where my fingers have disappeared into my panties.

Trapping my hand between us with his weight, he glares. “What makes you think you can finish what I started?”

“By all means, master. Roll the credits.”

Crew’s eyes shine with something oh so dirty, and he nips at my chin.

“Make me come, Crew.”

He regards me a long moment, and in one swift motion, swoops me into his arms.

I yelp, locking my legs around his big-ass body, and rope my hands around his neck.

My core muscles tighten in anticipation, waiting for him to take me to his room and then take me in his room, but he turns the other way. Crew drops into one of the armless kitchen chairs, unlocking my legs from behind him and lowering them until my toes are touching the floor.

I’m straddling him, my dress up to my damn waist, the look on his face is downright despicable in the best of ways.

Eyes on me, he reaches between us, and I watch, mesmerized as his hand disappears into his jeans. The muscles in his forearm flex, and I know he’s got his cock in his hand. He squeezes, adjusts, and then slides his hand out, my attention fixated on the long, thick outline, bulging in his boxers, fighting to break through the layer of clothes keeping it in place.

Crew lazily drops his head against the back of the chair, his eyes hooded, tongue trailing over his lips as he huffs in agonizing provocation. His hands come around, gripping and squeezing my ass, and for a split second, his eyes clamp closed.

And then he yanks me up and sets me down… right over his erection.

I fall forward on a gasp, clutching the chair with shaky fingers.

My pussy walls flex at the feel of him beneath me, and it cries, soaking the thin layer, keeping me from dirtying up his bottoms.

“Crew, I—”

He grinds my center into him, my breath lodging in my throat, my body shaking.

“Fuck me, baby,” he rasps, tucking my hair behind my ear and drawing my lips to his. “Close your eyes and ride me like I’m inside you. Feel the length of me slide over this pussy, press on your clit, and pretend it is.” His teeth sink into my bottom lip, and I cry out, sending a deep rumble through him. “Use my body and make yours shake. Come for me, Sweets. Come all over my lap.”

“Holy shit,” I wheeze, and with the encouragement of his hands on my hips, I slide over him.

Slow and timid at first, and then harder, faster, but not too fast.

Like riding a mechanical bull, I sway forward, right over his hardness, and back, pressing down more and more, searching for that friction, and my god, do I find it.

I do as he said, close my eyes, use the little bit of porn knowledge I can conjure up, and imagine.

I picture his dick, long and thick and silky, at least that’s how it feels, glistening as it slides in and out, burying deep between my legs as I grind against him.

A shudder shoots down my spine and his hands come up, pressing at the hollow of my back and drawing me closer until there’s no space between us. I bury my face in his neck, and when he tips his head a little, I taste the skin there.

His cock twitches beneath me, and I press into it, dancing over it.

My clit throbs, the friction setting me on fire, and I start to shake.

“There you go, Sweets.” His voice is rough, clipped, and I swear his hips lift the slightest bit. “So fucking close.”

I roll into him, keeping his length rubbing along my clit. His muscles tense beneath me, and I do as he did, nipping at his neck.

A shallow breath hisses past his lips, and I grin against him, but I’m peaking, so close to coming. On Crew. Over his dick.

Because of his dick.

I thread my hands into his hair and pull, inadvertently pressing his face into my chest as I whimper into the air around us.

His fingers dig into my flesh, and I welcome the sting, welcome the burn as my body heats to an unexplainable level.

It’s almost too much, the deep ache building, tightening my muscles to the point of pain. Heat threatens to burn up my insides like never before.

He must sense it, feel it, I don’t know, because his head darts up and he delves into my mouth once more. He kisses me fiercely, fucking my mouth with a ferocity that can’t be matched.

Could never be rivaled.

“Don’t fight it, baby,” he murmurs into my mouth, flicking his tongue across it, pressing his hips up into mine. “Come for me.”

I whimper, every nerve ending in my body quaking, my lungs denying me the full breath I desperately need. “I can’t—”

“You can. You will.”

Eyes clamped shut, I reach for his hand, and at first, he holds it still, but when he realizes I’m tugging, he relents and lets go.

Pulling back, with quite possibly literal stars in my eyes, I meet his. They’re dark and dilated, and when I lead him to the thin layer of panties at my center, they grow even darker.

“You need my help, Sweets?” he rasps, gliding his nose along mine. “Want me to bury my fingers inside you and make you cry into my mouth?”

My thighs clench around him, and I nod. “Please.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” His lips part, gaze holding mine as he slips beyond the cotton, and I lift my hips the slightest bit, my clit rebuffing, but then Crew’s long, lean finger finds my opening, and slowly, one sinks inside.

Crew groans, his dick impossibly hard beneath me. “So fucking tight.”

My body shatters instantly, and he presses in more, slowly moving out an inch, all to press in deeper. I lurch forward, my chest slamming into his, my mouth aligned with his own. “You’re squeezing me, over and fucking over.” His chin falls to his chest. “Fuck, let’s see how well you take one more.”

My body stretches for him, the pressure divine, as are the delicate swirls his finger makes moving around a bit, keeping them inside until my walls stop spasming, then slowly, he eases out.

My vagina cries in protest, trying to suck him back in, but he’s as good as gone, his hand hovering beside us, pointer finger covered with my cum.

Heat stings my cheeks, my entire body flushing at the sight.

Slowly, he brings it to his lips, but he doesn’t slide it between them. He glides it along his mouth, coating every inch until no spec is left dry. His lips shine with my satisfaction. My release.

My cum.

I don’t know what possesses me to do so, and if I were in my right mind, I might hesitate, considering it’s not something I’ve ever, well, contemplated wanting to try, but I flick my tongue across the swell of his bottom lip, tasting myself.

Crew’s eyes flash, and he has my hands locked behind me in an instant. He dips forward, so I’m leaning unsteadily at his mercy.

He gets in my face and whispers, “Mine.”

And then he licks his lips in one full, solid sweep.

His head bows, his chest rising rapidly, but all I can do is repeat his last word while pretending he didn’t mean the flavor on his lips as it echoes in my mind with a single question.

Promise?

“Go to bed, Sweets,” he pants. “Fuck me, go to bed,” he begs.

Wait, what?

“W- what are you going to do?”

Crew huffs a laugh, groaning a moment later. “I’m going to take care of this.”

This.

I look at the small space between us.

His erection.

His thick, long erection, hidden beneath his boxers, a darker spot right over the center where I soaked through.

“I…” My face flames. “I could take care of it for you.”

His attention snaps up, a deep frown etched across his face.

“Or I could try?”

“No.”

My head tugs back at his instant response. “Why not? I want to learn.”

Anger builds in along his brows. “You want to use my dick as a test dummy?”

“I want to see if I can give you what other girls can.”

Crew stares, and my nerves begin to twist.

“I mean, you could wear a blindfold if that will help…”

Something softens in Crew’s features, and he grips my waist, slowly standing before lowering me to my feet. His left arm snakes around me, holding me still, and he doesn’t have to tip my chin up like I know he would. I’m already locked on.

“If your lips were wrapped around my cock, Sweets.” He pulls the candy clip from my hair and runs his fingers through it. “Ain’t no way my eyes would come off you, and I sure as fuck wouldn’t let you hide yours from me. I’d want to see the moment they water when you get too excited and take me too deep, ’cause you would.” His gaze roams over me, and he pulls his lips in a moment. “Yeah, you definitely would.”

“Only one way to find out…”

Something flashes across his features, but it’s gone too fast for me to figure out its meaning.

Crew’s hands slide down my sides, taking my dress with it, and just like that, I’m fully covered. Boo.

“It’s almost eight in the morning. Go. Climb in bed.”

We stare at each other for several long moments, and finally, I nod, turning for the hall, but before I can walk into my room, Crew’s voice wraps around me like a warm blanket, halting me on the spot.

“My bed, Sweets.”

I peek at him over my shoulder—I hadn’t realized he’d followed me.

He cocks his head, eyes narrowed slightly. “You got a problem with that?”

My smile is slow but wide. “Is that a joke?”

Crew chuckles, a soft and airy sound, and something inside me settles.

It takes him a moment, and then he starts walking backward into the bathroom.

Once he’s locked inside, I take a moment to lean against the wall, toying with my necklace as I replay all my recent time with him, wishing—praying—for so much more.

But I know better than that, because every time the universe gives, it claims something in return.

Last time, it took my brother.

I won’t survive if, this time, it takes Crew.