Taking Turns (Turning #1)(4)

Hell, I like the way Bric slaps her around. And as soon as that thought enters my head I laugh.

“Maybe we’ll do it rough next weekend. You want that? You want us to f*ck you hard? Stick our dicks inside you at the same time?”

Another unfamiliar moan.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say, still kinda laughing. But then I let it go and just… f*ck her. I grab onto her ass and do it hard. Pounding her with so much force, her head is inching closer and closer to the headboard of the bed.

I don’t stop when it finally makes it there. I just keep thrusting until the pounding is compounded by the headboard crashing into the wall.

She’s moaning. Close. So f*cking close to coming. I reach underneath her body and strum her clit to the rhythm we’re making. She goes wild. Wild like I’ve never seen her before. Writhing, and moaning, and gasping for air.

I draw back, grab her hips, and flip her over, one hand pushing her head aside so her cheek is pressing into the pillow, the other one still playing with her *. I watch my dick as it slips in and out, just barely able to make it out in the dim, filtered light from outside.

I grab her hair, so f*cking ready to come, and yank her head so she has to look at me. Her eyes are closed, but I don’t care. I press my hand over her mouth and close my eyes too. And then I spill inside her. Throwing my head back to let out a groan of relief.

Her legs are trembling from the exertion. Little spasms as she gasps for breath. I laugh a little as I roll off to the side and wrap my arms around her. “What’s wrong, baby? Too much for you tonight?”

No answer.

I bury my head into her neck and smell her hair.

“Did you get a new shampoo?” I ask. “You smell so different.”

No answer.

“You want a date with Bric on Sunday? Hmm? We can skip Smith if you want.” I kiss her neck and then pull back and open my eyes. Trying to get an idea if she’s up for this kind of fun. It’s been a while so I—

I blink my eyes. Three times, fast.

“Rochelle—”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry—”

But I’m up and out of the bed, fisting her hair and pulling her with me. She drops to the floor, whimpering.

“I’m sorry,” she says again.

“Who the f*ck are you?” I ask. “Where the f*ck is Rochelle?”

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“You’re gonna be sorry all right,” I say, letting go of her hair so I can open the drawer in the bedside table. I take out the ball gag and strap it on.

She doesn’t even try to get away. Just lets me do it.

I pull her to her feet and reach for the rope, yanking her hands behind her back and wrapping the rope around her wrists. Tight.

And then I shove her into my closet and close the door.

I pace up and down the hallway, trying my best to figure what the f*ck just happened. And then I’m on the phone, calling Bric. It goes to voicemail.

“Fuck!” I yell. “Fuck!”

I find Bric’s message stream in my phone and text, Come upstairs. Now. Emergency!!!!!

I do the same for Smith.

Five minutes later they both come bursting through the door of Rochelle’s apartment.

I’m sitting on the couch, half naked. I had to open the closet door to get pants and I just grabbed at the first hanger. I think they’re actually Bric’s pants.

I place my elbows on my knees and hold my head, rubbing my eyes, still trying to figure out what’s happening.

“What the f*ck is going on up here?” Bric says. He looks panicked, his eyes wild as they search the room for the emergency. “Where’s Rochelle?”

I look up, find Bric’s face. Then Smith’s. “She’s gone.”

“Gone?” they both say together.

“Did you kill her?” Smith asks. “Choke her to death while you were f*cking her?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “No, I didn’t f*cking kill her, you *. She’s f*cking gone! Like, left!”

“Then why are you half naked?” Bric asks, calming down.

I take a deep, deep breath. Hold it for the count of three. And then let it out. “I f*cked—” But I have to stop and shake my head because it makes no sense. “She left someone in her place,” I finally say. “I f*cked her. I f*cked her before I knew it wasn’t Rochelle.”





Chapter Two - Smith




Well, this is an interesting twist. I have to say, of all the things I imagined happening tonight, a missing Rochelle was never on that list.

And yet—

“Where did she go?” Quin is right up in my face. We are the same height—to the half centimeter—so we are eye to eye.

“How should I know?” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “I haven’t f*cking seen her in months.”

“Months?” Bric asks.

I shrug. “You don’t think she was getting boring?”

“Where. The f*ck. Did she go?” Quin spits.

“I just told you. I have no clue. Whatever she’s doing, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t believe him,” Quin snaps, turning to Bric. Elias Bricman, or Bric for short, doesn’t seem to care as much as Quin. He is, at least, calm. “Not thirty f*cking minutes ago he was downstairs bitching about how tired he was of her. He sent her away, Bric. He sent her away.”