Pleasure and Pain.

Pleasure and Pain.

By

Jennifer Crowfoot

Pleasure and Pain

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 Jennifer Crowfoot

Smashwords Licence Statement

Thank you for downloading this free eBook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their copy at Smashwords.com, where they can discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

♥ ♥ ♥

Cover image ©Arema Foto (aremafoto)

http://stockfresh.com/

This is a work of fiction. Characters, names, events or incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to places or incidents is purely coincidental.

This story contains strong language and is meant for adults only.

This story is dedicated….

To You.

My reader.

♥ ♥ ♥

Prologue: Brandon McAllister. ♂

Fuck yeah, I breathed silently, savouring those few seconds before all hell broke loose.

Tipping my head back I closed my eyes momentarily, and blocking out the hyped-up crowd’s reaction, I welcomed the rush I always got straight after throwing that last punch.

That motherfuckin’ money-punch.

Stinging trickles of sweat ran in my eyes, and snaked down my jawline dripping steadily onto my bare chest. As my heart pumped out a crazy tempo behind my heaving pecs, I took in deep inhalations, releasing them in slow steady streams through my nose.

And gradually my racing heartbeats and ragged breaths slowed.

1…2…3...4…5…6...7…8…9…10. You’re out!

Tony finished the countdown and grabbing my wrist in his meaty hand he raised my arm above my head. Glancing at me with narrowed eyes he tore into me, pissed that I’d cut the fight short by knocking the fat fucker out cold, depriving tonight’s pack of baying wolves of their obligatory bloodbath.

I tensed. Up yours, arsehole, I growled, my brows rising as I fought against my annoyance.

With one last glare he turned back to the chanting crowd and hiking the megaphone up to his mouth, his tongue snaked out, flicking across his lips before his finger pressed the button in. Grinning, Tony bowed and then his hoarse voice boomed out across the room, Ladies and gentlemen, our winner for tonight is the one, the only, Brandon ‘One-Punch’ McAllister.

Bending my head, I wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist noticing the bright scarlet streaks staining my knuckles in-between the white tape. I wasn’t concerned, it wasn’t mine. It belonged to the slow prick snoozing at my feet who’d only managed to land the one fuckin’ lucky punch before I’d torn him a new one, and then some.

I snorted, fuckin’ moron.

Scratching my gut I tuned out as Tony bleated on and on, sprouting the same old shit that I’d heard a million times already.

All I could think on was, her, the gorgeous redhead I’d spied in the crowd earlier. My breathing quickened as I remembered the perfect peaches and cream complexion, and the delicate oval face framed by soft shoulder length curls and dominated by the fuckin’ bluest eyes I’d ever seen. They were like wet gemstones and framed by superfreakinglong black lashes.

As I’d been waiting for Tony to announce me over the megaphone, I’d gazed out over the packed room, checking out the night’s crowd and it hadn’t taken long to notice the two red-haired chicks. The pair of them were standing slightly apart from the other nasty, loose scrags that always came to my fights hoping to be the lucky one to ride my dick that night.

The noise of the crowd had faded away as I’d greedily skimmed my gaze between the pair. But, I’d soon found myself drawn to one in particular, and, the more I looked at her, the more she’d stolen the air from my lungs.

Even now thinking about her made my chest tighten.

Jesus, as her eyes had found mine I’d nearly fuckin’ expired when she’d licked her shapely pink lips before gracing me with a shy smile. And then, my gut had tightened as she’d looked down, her cheeks glowing a hot shade of rose.

Fuckin’ hell, I’d never met a girl before who’d blushed, and the girls I knew all liked some kinky shit. But those bitches had never had the decency to blush as they did it.

Swallowing hard past an immovable lump in my throat, I’d watched her watching me through her lashes as my boots froze on the spot, my mouth dropping open.

I’d been unable to stop myself from staring like a retard at that heavenly body with its dangerous curves which I’d glimpsed beneath the black clingy knit dress she’d had on.

And at the end of legs which seemed to go on forever, were heels, but not just any old heels. These mothers were the ones that could always be guaranteed to make my dick ache.

I groaned as my body reacted to my vivid memory of her.

Chapter One: Christina-Rose. ♀

Fanning my face with my hand I shifted all of my 55kg onto one foot, nervously tapping the toe of my strappy silver high-heel on the cement floor.

Whatever had I been thinking? I thought, my mouth drying up as I looked around at my crowded, dusty, graffiti strewn surroundings and then down at myself.

Changing my stance again I threaded my fingers together and sucking on my top lip I considered my current predicament; my over-heated brain coming up with the only answer that made any sense. I really don’t get out enough.

Groaning softly I squirmed, cursing my choice of outfit for the hundredth time that night, and, my sister Mikayla for letting me go out dressed like it was an après ski party.

Really Rosy, who wears a hot clingy knit dress to a fight-night? No matter how demurely sexy. Me of course, I taunted myself silently.

Mikayla, my date for this little outing had attempted to warn me as she’d watched me shimmy into the offending dress earlier.

Grunting under my breath, I reached behind, my fingers tugging the elastic of my undies down from where they’d ridden up my cheeks as I remembered our conversation a few hours earlier.

Perching delicately on the side of my bed, she’d crossed her legs, laced her fingers around her knee and in her special, take-no-prisoners-frankness she’d let rip with both barrels.

Yes Rosy, she’d sighed, her mascaraed lashes flicking back as she’d rolled her eyes. I know you’re not keen on wearing the dress I lent you. She shook her head as if I was a very difficult mathematical problem she couldn’t work out. Although I can’t see why, it’s not only very sexy but it’s also a totally nice dress.

I paused, one shoe on, one off, and balancing on my bare toes to keep my balance I pointed at the scrap of material dangling from my door-knob and raised a brow.

You’re joking aren’t you? Did you really expect me to go out in that…that feminine version of the emperor’s new clothes? So. Not. Happening. I huffed shoving my foot into my other heel.

She smiled and grabbing my hem she gave it a tug to get my attention.

I heaved a sigh. Yes.

"Look, I’m aware your dress has the right touch of demure-sexy instead of screw-me-now-sexy. But sweetie trust me, after a few hours it sure as hell won’t be suitable."

Dropping her gaze to her hand she’d inspected her decaled purple nails. Finding them flawless, her eyes had flicked back to me watching as I plonked my foot up next to her, bent over and buckled my heels up.

Look sis, all I mean is it’s a gorge little number, and for a night wrapped in some dude’s arms on the couch of an air-conditioned club it would be perfect. But most definitely not in a closed room, surrounded by heavy breathing hungry-for-blood-males who will, I shit you not, heat up the air faster than you can say, ‘you were right again Mikayla.’

♥ ♥ ♥

Sighing, I cursed my sister’s spooky foresight and my stubborn streak. Over-hot and cranky, I viciously flipped my fringe up and down in a vain effort to chase away the heat building beneath it. My mouth turned down in the corner as I realised that my carefully applied foundation —in all likelihood — had dissolved beneath the barrage of sweat. Allowing my hair to fall back limply onto my forehead I dabbed beneath my eyes with the pads of my index and middle fingers, feeling the moisture dewing on the delicate skin.

Groaning, I felt sweat tickling a trail down between my breasts and sticking my index finger down the front I scratched.

Why didn’t I listen to Miss Know-it-all? I demanded silently, breathing in the sauna-like air of the cement room. Chancing a peek at the people crowded around me, I exhaled with relief noticing their attention riveted to the bloodbath in the centre and not on me.

Moving quickly so I didn’t get caught, and feeling naughty, my heart-rate spiked as I hooked my fingers into the scooped neckline. Pulling it away from my sticky chest I fanned it backwards and forwards, sighing with relief as the puffs of air displaced some of the cloying heat.

Feeling eyes on me I paused mid puff. Swivelling my head, my cheeks warmed as I saw the dilated eyes of a scruffy short-haired man staring down into my moist cleavage. Raising both brows I patted my dress back into place and shot him the look. I swallowed, hard, as to my disgust he winked, grabbed his crotch and suggestively bucked his hips forward.

My lips twisted up. Urgh, that’s so gross, I mouthed.

Stepping sideways, my shoe snagged on a crack in the cement. Squeaking, I grabbed hold of Mikayla’s arm as my ridiculously high heel threatened to tip me off balance and quite possibly expose more of me than a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it view of the swell of my breasts.

He grinned and I turned away, my cheeks burning.

Bored with the gladiatorial punch-fest in front of me, I sneakily scanned the room from out of the fringes of my vision checking-out the males around me.

It was like they were all hypnotised.

Their eyes stared straight ahead, the rapid tic of muscles visible below the skin of their jaws as they clenched their teeth. Amused, my brow creased as I watched their reactions to the fight. They mentally soaked up each individual punch, their torsos jerking backwards, while their heads weaved from side to side, almost as if they were avoiding the blows which would never appear. Some of them even had their fists raised to chest height, the muscles of their forearms twitching.

The sounds of the fighters’ fists connecting made a sickening hollow thud, which despite the cheers and catcalls, echoed around the bunker-like room. My mouth dried up and even though I tried not to hear it, I winced with every blow. It was as if now it had been drawn to my attention I couldn’t not hear it.

I rubbed my forehead with the heel of my hand, as the beginnings of a headache took root.

High-pitched giggling distracted me from the hollow thuds of flesh on flesh and tearing my eyes from the zombie spectators, I tilted my head to the right. A group of at least five women stood there, clutching each other’s arms and squealing with each blow. Shaking my head in disbelief, I watched them slyly look around, smiling like hungry lionesses as they snagged the willing attentions of a few of the randy males.

Can you see Brandon yet? an over-made-up brunette asked her girlfriends, her head craned to the side peering at the room directly behind where I stood.

I fidgeted with the strap of my bag and fed up with that after five seconds, I slapped my hands on my hips and dramatically sucked back a deep breath before releasing it in a huffy snort through my nose.

Purposelessly ignoring Mikayla’s death stare I spat, This sucks big time you know? How much longer are we staying ‘cause I want to go home?

She snorted and poked me in the arm, her nail digging into my flesh.

I winced, rubbing my smarting bicep. Ouch! What was that —?

Smiling sweetly, she interrupted me, Rosy, for god’s sake, just shut-up and wait. We’ll leave when the main course has been served. Waving her hand before her Mikayla added, Enjoy the sights of man-land, because I don’t know when it’ll be open for business again. These things are so last minute.

Who gives a shit? I know I don’t and for your information I reckon you’ve totally lost your marbles, I fired back, peeved to the max.

I turned away from my sister’s laser-eyes and subtly raked my eyes over the tittering women. Nothing had changed. They were still watching the air behind me as if they expected Santa Claus to stroll in naked, smoking a joint.

I had no idea who the bloke the brunette in the clown make-up was referring to, and quite frankly, I didn’t give a toss. I’d just about had a gutful of brain-dead morons slapping each other around. If Mikayla wanted to stay much longer to watch this Brandon, she was going to be doing it alone and then walking home.

Pursing my lips I nodded, totally liking my idea.

With my usual flair for perfect timing I glanced to the front. The remains of my dinner rose, burning my throat as I saw a spray of bright blood gush into the air as one man tried to place his ham-sized fist inside his opponent’s much smaller mouth. It looked like someone attempting to stuff a watermelon into a mouse-hole.

And, my belly flip-flopped as I realised that something had to give.

Unfortunately for one of the boofhead-fighter boys, the something just happened to be his toothy smile. Horrified, I held up my hand peering out through stiff splayed fingers. My mouth dropped open and an involuntary gasp hissed out — I couldn’t stop it — as I witnessed several of his teeth being forcibly dislodged in the brutal fist-feeding-process. My lips automatically pursed as I saw them fly through the air like tossed confetti.

Shit! This place was a dentist’s wet-dream, or a nightmare. I couldn’t decide which.

Disgusted and feeling ill, I raised my arm, glancing at my watch: 9:30pm. I’d give it another hour. Tops. After that, I was shooting through. Mikayla or no Mikayla.

I straightened up, and ignoring the oily feeling in my stomach I flicked my hair back and ran my hands down the front of my dress, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles as the girls to my right continued to cluck like broody chooks. Silly twats.

Bending from the waist I gave in and peered at them around my sister’s profile.

He should be here soon. His fight’s the main event. I heard one of them say, her voice high with excitement.

A large breasted, pink-tipped blonde looked at the staggering fighters up front, sneered and turned to her girlfriends who’d also given them a cursory glance before looking away.

By the look of those two worn-out pricks I’d say their fight’s nearly done, she announced sagely to her friends, their heads bobbing wildly in agreement.

They froze and then a finger was pointed at an area somewhere behind my head and I heard a syrupy voice splutter, Hey, there’s Tony now.

I blinked as like one mindless entity they all straightened, stuck their chests out and licked their lips. Clown-face smoothed her hair back and I wanted to gag as her eyes lit up.

He always announces Brandon. Shit, I hope he picks me tonight.

The other crows leaned in and she made no attempt to lower her voice because I heard her trill, Sharon said Brandon picked her up from one of these fights once and she couldn’t walk properly for a week by the time he’d finished with her.

One of them giggled and I rolled my eyes.

I heard he’s hung like a stallion. Shit, I’d so love to find out if that’s true. She stared off dreamily and I snorted with disgust.

Stupid trolls, they’d probably all end up riddled with some form of S.T.D.

Unobserved, I watched them run their tongues over their shiny glossy lips, while long, scarlet-tipped nails seductively raked through their boofy, teased-to-within-an-inch-of-their-lives hairdos.

Dressed in the tarts’ universal uniform of needle-thin stilettos, tight plunging bustiers and thigh skimming skirts, I couldn’t tear my eyes away as their breasts bounced up and down with their excitement. Their boobs were all threatening to leap for freedom and blacken their eyes. Or at the very worst, take someone else’s eye out if they were stupid enough to get too close to those jiggling weapons.

Why am I here? I shouldn’t even be here, watching dudes punch the living crap out of each other just isn’t my thing.

Damn annoying interfering sisters, I cursed under my breath.

And I double cursed my boredom and poor judgement for agreeing at the last minute to be talked into attending this…this rowdy, loutish, Neanderthal-like circus.

Cripes, the smell! Why didn’t I notice it before? Yuk!

I coughed.

The heaving, noisy room reeked of perfume, beer, ganja and cigarettes, and looking up I followed the smoke’s ghostly blue swirls as they drifted towards the ceiling like lost wraiths. Below those odours was another that I recognised from growing up with three brothers. Screwing my nose up I sniffed, remembering the particular smell that only came with a herd of sweaty males.

I tipped my head towards my shoulder, wrapping a curl around my index finger as I considered the chemical make-up of what I always referred to as boy-smell. My head bobbed as a recipe came to mind, it was one I knew well. A complex combination of hot feet, moist armpits, sweaty heads and distinctly masculine pheromones.

Mikayla nudged me, her pointy elbow making me grunt as it connected with my ribs. She leaned down, and over the roar of the crowd around us, I heard her chirp in my ear, The main course should be here soon.

Squealing, she grabbed my arm, her nails clawing me as she choked out, Wait a minute, is that who I think it is? Oh my sweet lord it is! She was practically dancing on the spot and my eyes rolled back in my head at the sound of adoration in her voice. She’d never change.

My darling sister was the Queen of Flirts.

Don’t look now but Brandon ‘Orgasm-on-legs’ McAllister just walked in and…oh gods of drop-dead-gorgeous-males he’s…. She swallowed noisily, for the moment speechless. Then, squeezing my arm even harder she babbled, Oh shit, that man’s sex-on-legs and half-naked and… She paused for breath and I gaped at her.

Mikayla are you…drooling, I interrupted disbelievingly. I shook my head, she was practically purring as she breathed, …hmm, he’s sooo yummy. That body… I believe I’ve died and gone to man-heaven.

Releasing my arm she jiggled excitedly on her own kitten-heeled feet, her hip-bumps shoving me sideways as she sang in my ear, Ooh Rosy, he’s staring at you.

I snorted, she was always in lust. My sister was a walking, talking hormone, I didn’t blink an eye anymore at her crushes. She leaned against me, her appreciative and lascivious commentary fading away as she devoured him with her eyes.

Bright hot curiosity pricked at me, I couldn’t help myself.

I had to see what the object of so many women’s sexual fantasies looked like and as my need to know over-rode my common-sense I spun my head, searching the male faces around me for this perfect specimen of manhood.

This mind-boggling, sexy, mythical Adonis.

The moment I saw the tall, dark-haired, slab of muscle I knew straight away that it was him. There was absolutely no mistaking the identity of that beautiful creature. Half-dressed and with his hands covered in white tape, he couldn’t have been anyone else, and I mentally bobbed my head in begrudging deference to the slags next to me.

They’d been right in their description of his looks, he was perfection incarnate.

As to the rest of their conversation regarding the size of his man-package… I smiled… I’d have to take their word for it. I had no intention of letting him draft me out from the rest of the mob and take me home for a fun-filled evening of crazy and bow-legged-inducing banging.

I watched him gaze out over the sea of heads from beneath an overlong messy fringe, his glittering intensely green eyes never settling on one face for too long.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, shadow-boxing and, so help me god, I watched spellbound. Those large fists smoothly flicked out, the rhythmic movement making the muscles in his bare torso and arms flex in ways which were just plain out and out indecent. And, I’m fairly certain, illegal in every Australian state.

And, sexy as all hell.

Shit, he was the sexiest man I’d. Ever. Seen.

In. My. Whole. Life.

Two massive, fire-breathing dragons were inked low on each side of his upper chest, their intricate heads covering his pectoral muscles while their colourful bodies lazily snaked up and over his shoulders, down the contours of his bulging biceps and over his forearms. The tips of their long scaly tails ending just above his wrists.

My mouth watered up as I stared. Placing his hands behind his head he stretched and my legs trembled as I caught a quick glimpse of colour inked below the low waistband of his jeans. He turned his back to me and the breath left my lungs in a slow whoosh as I saw the vividly coloured Phoenix decorating his back, like a painting on a wall. I felt quivers dance over my skin, raising the hairs, as the mythical bird’s large outstretched wings rippled with the flex and pull of his toned and bulging muscles.

The man was a living masterpiece.

My lips tingled and I heard myself pant.

So help me.

My heart was hammering so much I could hear the pulse pounding in my ears and my lips parted as I struggled to draw a breath. I was aware I was staring like a pervert at a strip-joint, but I found myself simply uncaring, unable and quite frankly, unwilling to look away.

He spun back around and looked my way and the room disappeared the moment our eyes locked. I felt sparks fly between us and my breath caught in my throat as my cheeks began to heat. I couldn’t look away, he had me pinned to the spot by his amazing eyes.

I felt licks of heat flash and flare between my thighs and blushing I shot him a quick smile and dropped my head, my clasped hands squeezing that hard my knuckles whitened.

Mikayla poked me again. I said don’t look and what do you do? You look. She laughed and I felt my face burn hotter. Even though Mikayla was my fraternal twin and my best friend, I could’ve quite cheerfully strangled her at that moment.

I took a deep breath and wringing my hands I looked at her, feeling his eyes burning holes into the side of my head. Desire raced like lightning through my veins. Pooling low in my belly, my panties dampened and I bit back a groan, holding it in the back of my throat as pleasurable tingles deep inside raised gooseflesh over my body.

Squeezing my internal muscles I closed my eyes momentarily, my body quivering with the strength of my growing excitement. Gathering my nerve I opened them again, licked my dry lips and pretended to be put out when I was anything but.

Actually, I was on the verge of combusting.

Remind me again why I’m here Mikayla, because I’ve got other stuff I could be doing right about now, I huffed breathlessly.

My hands straddled my hips, and I hoped that she didn’t see through my flimsy fake cranky-mood to the arousal which was near killing me to hide.

She fixed me in her bright gaze and raised a brow. Yeah right. Like what?

Like, I dunno, I continued, totally flustered.

Buying some time I placed my trembling fingertip on my bottom lip and stroking it over the expensive Dewy Morning Rose lipstick-coated surface, I pretended to consider my options. Tossing her a sickly sweet smile, I sprouted the first bunch of crap which staggered like a drunken pirate into my head.

Washing, cleaning my flat, grocery shopping and not to mention a litter tray that stinks to high heaven. Missy will start crapping in the corners if I don’t do that. You know what she’s like.

I sucked on my bottom lip — tasting the sweetness of my lipstick — at the disgusted expression that flickered across my sister’s face at the mention of my beloved pet ferret. Missy and Mikayla had a love/hate relationship. Both of them had apparently come to some sort of silent arrangement: agreeing to hate each other. The one time Mikayla had attempted to make nice and stroke Missy, the black-eyed sable had humped up, fluffed up and sunk her sharp vampire-like fangs into Mikayla’s thumb.

Drawing blood and her undying and eternal loathing.

As the rest of the crowd spotted the new arrival, a roar rippled through the room and I felt the press of the people behind as they swelled forward. I squeaked, tensing as a large hand gripped my hip, and slid down, cupping and squeezing my arse cheek.

Spinning, I found myself gazing at a 6ft slab of muscle dressed in faded low-riding jeans and a white t-shirt emblazoned with two flaming skulls.

I gasped, my heart-rate picking up as I took a half step backwards. Screwing my nose up, I let my eyes drift upwards from his tee, up the length of a thick bull-neck, skimming over a dark, stubble-encrusted jawline and onto his face proper.

Big mistake.

Big, big mistake.

He winked as he caught my eyes on him and my stomach clenched, tying into a hard knot of fear.

Hey there darl, he crooned, his voice rough with lust.

His eyes darkened as the black of his pupils swallowed the ice-blue irises and I took a step backward as icy fingers caressed my spine. His lecherous gaze skated down to my feet and back up again.

Nice…dress love, he said, licking his lips as his hand rose fingering a loose curl which had fallen forward and lay draped over my shoulder. Want me to help you slip out of it?

I swallowed down the gorge which had risen and turning around I took Mikayla’s hand and ignoring her protests I pushed my way forward, dragging her with me in a panicked attempt to put distance between myself and Mr-Over-sexed-grabby-claws.

Unbeknown to me Brandon had seen the whole thing and the only thing preventing him from stalking over and punching Mr Grabby-claws well into the next century was Tony’s voice announcing him over the bullhorn.

Chapter Two. Brandon. ♂

My panting sounded like a roaring steam train in my head.

I was seething. My body trembling with the sheer force of the sudden, inexplicable anger which swamped me as I watched that backwards fuckwit paw at the delicate redhead like a disobedient mongrel dog.

I didn’t know who she was, but from her wide-eyed look of fear and frozen stance, I knew he was scaring the shit outa her. With my hackles rising like a guard-dog, I felt my protective male instincts rear up. Bursting out of me like white-hot solar flares, I was sure I musta been glowing like a torch. Stunned at my reaction — but going with it anyway — my fists clenched tighter as I narrowed my eyes glaring at him, willing him with every fibre of my body to just look up.

To just turn his freakin’ ugly head a fraction. And. See. Me.

I smiled tightly, as in my imagination he burst into flames like a human-bonfire. That outcome would certainly save me the trouble of punching his face in; which was what I was so tempted to do. Christ almighty, he was like an oversized, obnoxious kid trying to rip the paper off a cupcake as he grabbed a hold of her hair, his freakin’ fingers idly playing with one shiny curl.

Furious, I pressed my lips together as my body tensed, the muscles taut as overwound springs.

Holy shit, I spat, battling to control the insane urge to race over, grab those fuckin’ fingers and bend them backwards over his hand in ways that Mother Nature had never designed digits to be bent. I really wanted to turn that fucker into ‘human-pretzel-man’.

As I imagined doing all sorts of painful and, quite possibly, disfiguring things to him, my lips slid back over my clenched jaw. Stinging sweat dribbled down from my scalp, into my eyes and I blinked, my vision blurring for a microsecond. Cursing, I raised my arm, and dipping my head I swiped my brow across my forearm.

I shuddered as trickles of sweat obeyed the universal laws of gravity. The salty trails following the contours of my torso and the length of my spine, soaking into the waistband of my jeans. Waves of heat shimmered across my skin doing fuck-all for my already hot temper. While along the length of my arms I felt the tightening and rippling of muscles as I flexed and relaxed my hands. The lengths of white tape wound around them — protecting them from being shattered with the power of the punches I intended to throw — crackled stiffly, the sharp sounds strangely comforting.

My eyes found the two strangers again, and as I stared, a growl rumbled deep in my chest, startling me with its ferocity.

Christ, if he touches her again, I fuckin’ swear I’ll kill him, I snarled to no-one in particular, not giving a shit about the nervous grins and raised brows I received from the drop-kicks who surrounded me, staring at me as if I was the second coming of Christ.

Dumb stoned fucks!

I shook my head. What in the friggin’ hell is she doing here anyway? Amongst the pissed, high and rowdy regulars she stuck out like an exotic and rare flower blooming amid a paddock of butt-ugly noxious weeds.

Fuck! I snapped, feeling the cuss-word reverberate up from my heaving chest as I realised I didn’t have the time to stalk over to him and lay him out cold for daring to breathe on her.

Even though I’d never seen her before, something about her pulled at my chest and made my gut twist. I stared at her and blowing out a frustrated breath I raked my fingers through my fringe, pushing it back off my steamy forehead.

This red-haired chick was making my head spin. She had the whole fuckin’ package, and it was one parcel I was dying to unwrap. Slowly. I stared at her, my greedy eyes taking in her profile, and unable to see her face through the veil of her hair I lowered my eyes and froze.

I swallowed, hard, as my gaze lingered on the swell of her tits and against my will, I groaned. The blood from my brain instantly drained south and I leaned forward, my hands grabbing my thighs as I battled to control my insane lust.

What is it about this chick that’s screwing with my head?

Too late to consider my answer, I straightened and my eyes instantly zeroed in on her chest again. By the looks of those puppies I imagined they’d be a good handful and in my buzzing head I was already peeling her bra off and cupping their heaviness while my thumbs massaged her hard nipples.

I closed my eyes as her seduction played out in my mind and I felt the pleasure of it