Where is he? What’s taking so long? My mind goes to Chelsea’s words that he had to be pulled off that Stucco dude because he wanted to kill him. Does that mean they were in a fist fight? Maybe he’s hurt. I begin to feel my anxiety rise and I glance back over to Stucco in the corner sitting with his back to the bar. Fuck, I hate that weasel, too. I need a drink.
“I’m going to the bar, do you guys want anything?” I ask the girls.
“Can you just get me a white wine?” Angela asks.
“Me too.” The girl sitting next to her smiles. What is her name again? Damn, I have to remember this stuff. I must seem like such a bitch not remembering anyone’s name.
I head to the bar and there is a bit of a line up, so I take my place at the back of the line.
“Don’t worry about him,” I hear the girl with the dark hair whisper.
I can hear their conversation. I glance back and see Stucco and his girl sitting with their backs to me, unaware that I am here. I turn back towards the front and pretend not to listen.
“He is going to meet his maker very soon,” Stucco whispers angrily. “The mutiny is growing.”
I frown. Who are they talking about?
“Just bide your time,” she replies. “You will get your chance.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Stop it,” she whispers.
“Next time I get him alone, I’m going to kill him. He’s dead.”
“How will you kill Mac without a weapon. It isn’t physically possible. He is a weapon in himself.”
My eyes narrow. And he will kill you first, fucker.
“How?” she asks again.
“I need a way to get back into the ammunition vault. He has the only key.”
Bloody hell, he’s serious. And there is an ammunition vault? I run my hands through my hair as I pretend to be unaffected by what I am hearing going on behind me.
“Where does he keep the key?” she asks.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out, and when I do it’s going to be so fun watching the cunt die.”
Adrenaline starts to pump through my blood stream. It’s one thing to hit me and try and rape me amongst a group of gutless men-he had payback coming for that anyway-but to plot to kill the only person I trust on this God forsaken horror ship is a whole other level.
My blood runs cold.
You can’t kill Mac if you are already dead, motherfucker.
Maybe I need to speed up my plan?
* * *
I get the drinks and head back to the bar and take a seat at our table. I sit in silence for ten minutes as I try to process what I just heard.
Should I tell him, or is that idiot just blowing off steam?
Angela’s words come back to me. The men are all shit scared of him. They call him the enforcer. I’m pretty sure he can handle himself, but I just don’t know. I need to think on this for a while. I know he has to be careful with the keys to that ammunition vault though, so maybe I will just tell him that? Everyone seems to be here now and Angela is at the kitchen counter with her boys. I watch the three of them together. They are all looking up at the menu board and she is holding one’s hand while the other is standing behind her with his hand on her ass. They look so natural together and nobody even seems to notice them. No wonder she likes it here where she can live without judgement. What is it like to have two gorgeous men in your bed who love you? I would never in a million years have guessed that her men were crushing on each other. They are both so alpha. I glance at the doorway to see Mac walk through it wearing a black t-shirt and jeans that hug in all the right places and I feel my heart skip a beat. His freshly washed hair is hanging in curls just above his collar. He towers above everyone around him and I can see every muscle through his t-shirt. He is one mighty fine specimen. His eyes find me through the room and a smile crosses his face as he gives me a wink before he walks straight over.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” He brushes the backs of his fingertips tenderly down my cheek. God, he smells so good. “Have you eaten?” he asks as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip.
“No. I was waiting for you.” I smile up at him.
“Okay.” He places his hand on my shoulder as he looks up at the menu board. “What do you want?”
I screw up my face. “The chicken, maybe?”
“Yeah, okay.” He disappears to the kitchen counter to order. I stay in my seat and my eyes are stuck to him like glue. He orders our meals and then holds his hand up in a drink gesture and I shake my head and point to my full glass on the table. He nods and goes to the bar to get himself a beer. He stands for a while and talks to a group of men. I watch him as something very apparent appears that I haven’t noticed before. He’s different to the other men here. He’s quiet, reserved, and broody. It’s really hard to read what he is thinking or what emotion he is holding inside. Is that a defense mechanism he uses like I do, or is it a natural behaviour?
“You can’t keep your eyes off him can you?” Angela whispers, pulling me from my thoughts.
Embarrassed, I smile at the floor.
She bumps me with her shoulder.
“I took your advice this afternoon,” I lean in and whisper.
She frowns.
“We made out for real today.”
She smiles broadly and hits me on the leg underneath the table. “Yes.”
I sip my drink and try to wipe the stupid smile from my face.
“How was it?”
I shrug. “Good.” I laugh and widen my eyes. “Like, really good.”
“So?” She leans in and whispers, “Did you… you know?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Maybe tonight?”
I shrug as I feel the butterflies rise in my stomach. “Who knows?”
She glances over at him as he talks to the other men and my eyes follow hers.
“Seriously, look at him,” She mutters with a shake of her head. “You know you have a huge advantage on any girl here.”
I frown. “How so?”
“I reckon you could bag him if you wanted to.”
“What? No?” I shake my head. “I’m not bagging anyone.”
“Think about it. He’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous. He is out here all the time and I am pretty sure he doesn’t have anyone at home. Who knows what could happen?”
“It’s just two weeks.” I roll my eyes.
He falls into the seat opposite me and I sit back guiltily, hoping that he can’t tell we were just talking about him. Our eyes meet across the table and I smile, my heart rate immediately picking up. Can he tell how nervous he makes me?
He tips his head back to drink his beer and his sexy eyes don’t leave mine. I can tell he’s thinking about our time together on the lounge today. He was hard and above me and I was wet and open. I have thought of nothing else since.
He felt so damn good.
“How was work?” I ask as everyone disappears around us.
“It was okay,” he replies, amusement crossing his face at my attempt to small talk with him.
I sip my drink and he rubs the side of his shoe against mine in a silent acknowledgement. “How was your afternoon?” he asks.
“I had other plans, but it turned out okay.” I breathe.
He smirks as he lifts his beer to his lips. “That makes two of us.”
Our meals arrive and we eat in relative silence. Everyone around us is talking and laughing loudly, but he is quiet and pensive. I wonder if he is thinking about his trouble at work this afternoon. I glance over at Stucco who is now talking to three other seedy looking men in the corner. Obvious bruising is appearing on his face and his remark about the mutiny growing has got me thinking. If a group of men went crazy out here, some really bad shit could go down. One of the girls has turned some music and the disco lights on, and a few people are starting to dance. Angela and the boys have gone to play pool and the table seems to have separated.
“Do you want to dance?” I ask nervously.
“I don’t dance.”
“Oh.” I pause for a moment. “How do… I mean, what do you do to relax?”
His dark eyes hold mine and after a moment her replies. “I ejaculate.”
I get a visual of this visceral beast ejaculating. Fucking hell. “Oh,” I whisper as an intelligent reply leaves my brain.
“We can do that if you want?” He raises a sexy brow.
“Do what?” I breathe as my eyes drop to watch his tongue as it slips out and runs over his large bottom lip.
“Watch me ejaculate.”
The air leaves my lungs. “You want me to watch?” I whisper.
“Very much,” he breathes.
“Now?”
“Right now.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. Holy fuck.
Before I know it I am being dragged back to his room by the hand, where he opens the door. “Take your shoes off and lie on the bed,” he instructs.
Huh? I frown in question as he disappears into the bathroom and reappears with a large, white towel, which he spreads out over the sheets.
Isn’t he going to touch me?
“Take your underwear off and lie down.”
“Umm.”
He cuts me off. “Now.” He turns and switches the lamp on next to the bed and turns the main light off. The mood instantly changes to sexual.
Oh. I slide my panties down my legs and take them off and lie down on the bed in my little black dress. He stands at the end of the bed and grabs the nape of his t-shirt slowly pulling it over his head, revealing his golden, tattooed torso. My hungry eyes drop to the rippled abdomen and the V of muscle that disappears into his jeans. He doesn’t have hair on his chest, but has a trail of sandy hair from his navel down to his pubic hair.
My mouth goes dry.
He kicks off his shoes and I watch as he slowly slides his jeans down his legs. He stands before me in tight black short briefs. I can see everything through the briefs, although I don’t need to. His hard cock is sitting well above the waistband of his pants.
Oh dear God. I start to feel arousal pump through my flesh as a burst of cream breaks the dam.
With his eyes fixed on mine, he grabs his cock and pumps it hard through his shorts.
I’ve died and gone to bad boy Heaven.
“What do you want to see?” he asks.
“I want to see how you make yourself come when you’re alone,” I whisper.