Chasing Bad Boys 8_A Bad Boy Romance Series Page 2

  Summer knew what to do; her role was not yet over just because she did not have a dick; she positioned herself in a way that she could play with my clit while at the same time spanking my ass. Summer was the catalyst to my orgasm as Henry went on to hump and fill me up; these twos were a match made in sex heaven. She would pull at my hair, spank my bare ass and did all the dirty talk just how I loved it.

  “Do you like that?” she asked, “Do you like that thick juicy cock in your pussy.”

  “I love it,” I replied timidly. This was the only place where I played submissive; the sense of someone else controlling me and making me beg for mercy had a kick to it. I, of course, had my days to be in charge, however, whenever I had the time I would make Henry and Summer do things to each other as I watched and played with myself and arousing was a word I would use lightly when it came to that. I would make them slap each other across the face, moan out loud when they inserted foreign objects into the others body and would sometimes ask them to lick my boots and worship me. After all, I did pay enough money to have them do anything I want. This strategy had a result, degrading Summer and Henry and making them feel worthless would harbor a form of hidden resentment towards me.

  This would always come in handy on days like these, where I would play submissive, and they would have their turn to be rough with me. The vengeance behind every thrust, spank and shove could not be missed, and I loved it.

  Another slap on my ass from Summer made me feel an orgasm taking over her. I waited patiently for the second and third before the familiar cringe took over my body and preceded the orgasm. The familiar ripple that rose from the sole of my feet to the small of my back took over her as I let out a loud moan. Summer and Henry paused for quick second and let me have my little piece of heaven; I had indeed taught them well.

  “How did that feel?” Henry asked before pulling out. He had not reached his climax but didn’t mind. It was never about him; his aim was to satisfy his clients and would sometimes go for hours in the night fucking different women and sometimes men without cumming.

  “That felt wonderful,” I admitted as I stretched and loved the smiles that were both on Summer’s and Henry’s faces.

  “I will leave you a tip at the front,” I said as I hurriedly got dressed. They were never supposed to handle any money, which was a general rule.

  After throwing a quick glance at my wrist watch, I headed out of the compartment and into the hallway. The air was filled with sex noises as I walked out and headed to the front where Sam was playing with a drink in his hand.

  “Did you have fun my dear?” he asked, “Why are you leaving so soon?”

  “I have to run Sam, but I always have a good time.”

  I settled my bill before walking out the same way I came in; I took short and quick strides to the car knowing that my cell phone will go off again in a few seconds. I gave the place a quick look before pulling out of the driveway. I played with different words in my head that would befit a name for the place, was it a brothel? A sex club? A fetish parlor? Fantasy chamber? The possibilities were endless.

  Whatever name I would secretly baptize the place, I knew one thing, it was a part of my life that I was never proud of. Granted, it took me to heaven and back, but it would always remind me of my empty and lonely life. I pushed the depressing thoughts to the back of my head and saved them for the day I would consult a shrink and step on the accelerator. The job ahead was more important, at least that I was proud

  The place was crowded, just as I suspected it would be, I spotted the local police trying to control the crowd and from the distance could also spot a few of my people. It was late in the night and from the yellow crime tape outside the house and the different bags being shipped out of it, I had an inkling what the case was about. But what I could not understand was why on earth the FBI had been called to the scene? The local police could quickly take care of the mess; I knew better than to ask myself so many questions. And after parking opposite the crime scene at a strategic point where I could easily escape after impressing the big boss and ordering around everyone else I walked into the house.

  Ian was the first to notice me walk through the front door; he had on his navy blue jacket with the words “FBI” written on the back in bright yellow. I hated those clothes; they made one look like a construction site worker.

  “Hey, what have we got here?” I asked. He was holding a clipboard in his left hand and a pen in the right scribbling something that looked grave.

  “Come with me,” Ian said as soon as I got to where he was standing and turned on his heel. He led me to a room and from a quick analysis I could tell that it was a two bedroom house.

  “The whole family was murdered,” he pointed to the gruesome picture that was now before me.

  The room was filled with the raw metallic stench of blood, there were three bodies sprawled on the floor, and I could tell that two of them had already been moved.

  The bodies had been shot in the head, a clear sign that the act was in cold blood, I knelt by one of the bodies and was careful not to get any blood on my clothes as I let my mind analyze the crime scene.

  “Were there any survivors?” I asked Ian, who was hovering in the background watching me.

  “One of them made it to the hospital, but the other died in the ambulance.”

  “Give it to me,” I said.

  Ian looked like he had been living for this moment when I told him that, he took out a pen from the front pocket of his shirt and started going through his scribbled notes.

  “This is the Morello residence; there was a 911 call from the neighbors at around 9:45 pm reporting loud noises and screaming coming from here.”

  “Morello? Why does that name sound familiar?”

  “Because it is not their real name.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We placed them under house protection program about ten years ago. These are the Miguel.”

  It all came flooding back as soon as Ian had said these words; I had been a rookie back then when handling this case. Now I could see why the FBI was involved; this was a case dated back ten years.

  “Fuck!” I let out and got to my feet. Now I got why Ian was hovering around me looking slightly agitated.

  “Do we have any suspects, Ian?”

  “Yes, the mob leader was released on parole only a few weeks back.”

  “Do you think it is a case of vengeance?”

  “Might be,” Ian answered, “It is just too coincidental that the family turns up dead after the ex-leader was released.”

  “That is what they want you to think Ian, the old man might have also been framed,” I tried to explain “The spotlight would automatically fall on him.”

  “So what are you attempting to say?”

  “Do not rule out any other suspects.”

  “Who do you have in mind?”

  I paced the bloody room before biting at my lower lip, the words of my very wise criminology teacher echoed in my head. “When everything falls into place so quickly, go back to the drawing board.”

  “Who is the current leader of the mob?”

  “Joe Mancini,” he answered.

  “I think that is who we should be looking at.”

  “Wait a minute, I am confused.”

  “Think about it,” I turned all my attention to Ian to help him see the logic behind my thinking “If you were Joe Mancini, would you easily give up your seat to someone who had been locked up for over a decade? Have in mind the kind of submission and ass kissing that comes with being the boss.”

  “That makes sense, so should we make him a prime suspect?”

  “We should but let’s make them think we have fallen for their foolish trap. Let them think our primary suspect is the old man.”

  “I get you.”

  The perks of being boss were always refreshing; I did not have to stay back and do all the dirty work. I gave a last look at the bodies in the room and made my leave, on the bright side
they were all dead, no one will have to grieve for the other. Assuming that the survivor in the hospital wouldn’t make it, from the wound he had sustained chances of making out alive were almost zero and even if he did he would be in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.

  The fatigue was beginning to weigh down on me, even Superman had his kryptonite and after the good fuck with Henry and Summer, my body needed to shut down. I walked over to the car and got in the driver’s seat before driving away. I had been up since four that morning, and my wristwatch confirmed it was 2:58. All I could think of were the silk sheets on my huge bed, I had a long day coming up, and it all started in two hours.

  2

  Robbie

  Nothing made sense to me anymore, scratch that, a lot of things made sense to me, but nothing felt meaningful. It used to be this way when I had no money and making money was the only thing that mattered. Everything seemed flat, the scotch in my hand, the music in the club and the woman seated next to me bubbling on and on about things that only made sense to her.

  I should have stayed back home and gone through my financial statements, that felt meaningful, but my new shrink thought that I was a loner. She felt that I needed to get out more and throw caution to the wind. I have no idea why I took her advice, probably because she looked and sounded smart.

  I decided to get on my feet and visit the John; my bladder could not hold the liquor, and that was when I spotted her. She was seen at the bar, nursing a martini and exuding confidence and lost in her world. I loved her choice of outfit for the night; she was clad in black pencil jeans that showed off her contours with a bright yellow bareback top to match. She looked classy and hard to get, unlike the young blonde that I had been talking to that night.

  I did the math fast in my head, should I talk to her before taking a piss or after? I settled for after, that way she would not see which direction I had appeared from.

  The John was crowded as expected in nightclubs; a couple was making out in the mirror while two others fucked in the cubicles. I paid no attention to them; my eyes had landed on something that I assumed was now meaningful. I wanted to talk to her, for the first time in a long time I wanted to approach a woman for conversation. Did that mean sex had also become meaningless too?

  One last look at my reflection gave me a renewed sense of confidence, or maybe it was my now empty bladder. I headed back to the noisy night club with my target in mind; she was still sipping on her drink and scrolling through her phone.

  “It’s show time,” I said out loud and took short strides towards her.

  “Hi.”

  “I am not interested.”

  “Feisty much” I thought to myself. She hadn’t even bothered to look up from her cell phone. This would be harder than I expected but it was a great turn on.

  “That is not the vibe I am getting from you,” I said this and sat right next to her without any invitation. She still didn’t bother to look up from her phone, but she, at least, answered me.

  “Really now, what vibe is that?” she asked.

  “That you are bored.”

  “What is your name?” she asked and, this time, looked up at me and stared into my eyes. I got the chance to look into her beautiful almond eyes even though her facial expression had a “do not disturb sign all over it.”

  “Robbie.”

  “Robbie, I am not interested.”

  I never walked away from a challenge and called on the bartender who responded immediately.

  “Please get the lady another drink.”

  “No please, I was actually leaving.”

  “Let me pay for your drink then,” I said and started looking for my credit card that was somewhere in my pocket.

  “Already paid for,” she answered confidently. She then downed the contents of her glass, got to her feet and started heading for the entrance. My heart sunk, I never took rejection very well and wondered what to do next. My eye fell on her purse lying next to her empty glass, and I decided to use this as my platform. I grabbed the bag and before running out after she went through it. There were a few dollar bills lined inside, her ID and a few credit cards. I got her name and information on the cards and rushed outside to meet her.

  I spotted her a proper distance from the club’s entrance and clumsily rushed over to where she was. I got to her too late and had to stand like a fool watching as the car sped away into the night.

  “What to do? What to do?” I asked myself with a cheesy grin on my face and raced back to my car. I got into it and sped after her knowing that the gesture would make me look like a stalker, but I did not mind she was worth the chase.

  I tried hooting loudly after her to make her stop but she only drove faster; I stepped on the gas and increased my speed and went on to hoot repeatedly. I seem to have finally gotten her attention when I saw the car coming to a halt as she stepped out of it calmly. My window was already rolled down, and my goofy smile was in check, but the sound of a trigger jolted me. I looked up into her scary yet sexy stare as she stood by my window and pointed a gun at me.

  “Step out of the car,” she barked.

  This had definitely taken a different turn from what I had expected; I did as she asked and loved the posture she had assumed. Her palms tightly grasped the pistol, and her legs were apart, it was a very sexy look. This was about to be a very exciting night.

  3

  Sarah

  Now this man had to be a special kind of stupid smoking on very cheap weed. What the hell was he doing following me around? He was probably one of those people who did not take rejection well. I thought I had gotten rid of him from the club, but the fool had to trail behind hooting like a maniac for attention.

  I didn’t like the clingy type; I had always had a fantasy of shooting all the clingy men I had dated in the face. Maybe he could take the fall for all of them including the one-night stands that always wanted a repeat performance.

  There was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way; he seemed to think this was funny. Even at this moment with a gun pointed at him, he had a smug look spread all over his face.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I barked after he had stepped out of the car. He seemed amused and a bit turned on by the way he was checking me out. “I told you I was not interested. Do you speak and understand English?”

  He let out a chuckle that made me even more furious. I wanted to punch him in the face for that.

  “I am sorry, but you forgot your purse back at the club,” he answered.

  His hands were raised in mid-air like a sigh of surrender as he said this; he then threw a look back at his car and pointed a skinny finger to the co driver’s seat “May I?”

  “Go ahead.”

  He opened his door and stretched out his hand to the co driver's seat and appeared momentarily with my purse in his hand.

  “Does this belong to you?”

  My anger seemed to dissolve at his gesture, and I moved closer to him to take the purse with the gun still held firmly in my right hand.

  “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome.”

  I didn’t see any reason for lingering around him and turned on my heel and headed back to my car.

  “I’m sorry did you think I was that desperate?”

  The fool had to talk; I knew what he was doing. He was trying to get me to talk by getting under my skin. I just didn’t have time for this not with the kind of work I had lined up the following day.

  “It may have crossed my mind,” I answered without looking back at him.

  “You are one cold bitch,” he said.

  If this man was looking for my attention, this statement made him get it. I looked back at him, and he stood expectant waiting for what I would say next. Both his hands were in his pockets and for the first time that night, I got to have a quick look at him. He looked wickedly handsome without the club noise and the bad lighting. He didn’t look or sound drunk either or have the stench of desperation on him that most men in n
ightclubs had.

  “I am thank you for noticing.”

  “Take you out for a drink sometime?”

  I am not quite sure why I agreed to go out with him; I think his relentless streak got to me and slightly turned me on.

  “Ok,” I answered curtly.

  “May I have your number please?”

  “Sure.”

  We stood out there in the cold night with the stars and the moon bearing witness to our crazy conversation as we exchanged phone numbers. This was insane; I never went out with any random guy especially one that I had just met in a nightclub.

  “I will give you a call,” he said as he walked away “Goodnight.”

  I didn’t know the man who had just asked me out, but I had a feeling this was going to be one crazy ride.

  4

  Robbie

  Looking forward to the night ahead was an understatement; I kept checking my wrist watch every five minutes wondering if she would call me back. I thought about texting her, but that would look a little desperate especially after the grand gesture I had done that morning. I hoped she wouldn’t believe I am creepy and turn my offer down. Tracking her down after being in possession of her purse for a few minutes was not a hard task. I had sent my old and faithful assistant to deliver a bunch of red roses to her apartment asking her out for the night.

  She hadn’t given any response, and this made me the feel uneasy. I hadn’t actually asked her out; I just hadn’t given her the platform to confirm or deny. It was more of order, not a request; the words were simple “Dinner at 8:00 at the Hillock.” No question mark at the end of the statement, I knew she had my number I didn’t know why she was not calling me back or saying anything about the dinner plans.

  I looked at my wrist watch again; it was about 6:42 pm I had a whole hour and some minutes to spare before the date and yet she had not called or texted. I had chosen a casual place where most people wined and dined after a long day of work, that way neither of us would feel any pressure to dress well. My casual look fit perfectly with the place; old jeans with a Tommy Hilfiger tee shirt would never let me down on any day.