Dair (The Wild Side #3)(18)

She gripped my shaft, pushing it down so she could put it in her mouth.

I watched her neon lips move over my length until she was hugging my tip deep in her throat, and she’d left a hot pink ring of paint around my base.

I heard my own low, guttural moan fill the room.

She pulled back about an inch, then pressed her lips firmly again, leaving another distinct ring of color on my cock.

I clenched my fists and watched.

I’d never imagined anything like it.  Who would?

I watched her glow-in-the-dark lips moving along my cock, wondering if I’d died and gone to heaven.

She repeated the process four times before pulling back to apply more lipstick, smiling up at me, then going back for part two.

She ringed me, base to tip, and pulled away.  She stood, pinching my tip hard with two fingers.  “You want to finish here or that hotel?”

I groaned and cursed, but managed to pull her hand away, and hold onto exactly one ounce of control.  “Hotel.  Now.”

She pouted, but led me out of the club without protest.

It was a crush outside, some heading away from the building, but most loitering from the door and out onto the street.

“How did you set all that up, with the bouncers?” I asked her as we moved.

“I bribed them with cash.”

“Have you been counting cards again?”

She shot me an impish smile.  “What do you think?”

Outside, by the dim light of the few street lamps that were actually working, I got a good look at her.

The series of multicolored strings and paint she wore hadn’t done her justice under the black lights.

Her ripe br**sts fairly spilled from her top, the minuscule bottoms cupping her sweet ass like an invitation.

It wasn’t warm out, not freezing, but there was definitely a chill in the air.  It was only as I felt it that I realized I’d left my shirt behind, somewhere in that blasted rave.

No way in hell was I going back in there.

As though just realizing how cold it was herself, Iris shivered.  I pulled her into my chest, rubbing her arms.

“Nasty slut,” some perturbed girl with ink-black hair and goth makeup called out as a group of people passed.  She was looking directly at Iris, obviously speaking to her.

My brows drew together, jaw clenching.

Iris seemed oblivious to it, tilting her head back to watch me instead.

“Easy there, tiger,” she said, her tone amused, her eyes smiling up at me.  “She just didn’t like my outfit.  Not everyone is ever going to love what you’re putting out there, especially when you’re having a good time.  There’s always going to be a percentage of the population that has a problem with fun, that wants to put you down for having it.”

“What an unpleasant young woman,” I said tersely, sending the girl’s back another glare.

Iris laughed.  “Don’t hold back now.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Let’s,” she agreed, but abruptly she stiffened, pulling away.

She started looking around, appearing suddenly paranoid in the extreme.

She licked her lips, and focused on me, her entire demeanor suddenly changed.  “Listen, I forgot something important inside.  I’ll meet you at your car.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

She held up a hand, fingers spread wide, backing away.  “No more than five minutes, I swear.”

I shouldn’t have believed her, but I did.

When would I learn?

She disappeared inside, and I stood there for a moment, torn on whether I should follow her, just in case she ran into trouble.

In the end, I figured I didn’t need to.  She had the staff in her pocket, and she’d sworn she’d only be five minutes.

I was almost to my car when all hell broke loose.

The breath whooshed out of me as something hard slammed into my back, taking me down to the ground.  My hands met the pavement a split second before the rest of me joined it, just saving me from some broken bones, I was sure.

A big, hard body pressed against my back and cold metal dug into my temple.

“Where is she, you piece of shit?” a familiar voice growled at me.

Fucking Heath.

“Get off me,” I growled back.

For some reason, it worked.

He let up and I stood, glaring at him.

“Well, where the f**k is she?” he asked, gun down at his side, at least, but I was willing to bet he could raise and shoot before I could do much about it.

I tried to lie.  It wasn’t clean and neat.  “No clue.  Haven’t seen her.”

His expression was an entertaining combination of disgusted and amused.  “You really think I’ll believe that you were here on your own?  This a normal weekday outing for you, Masters?”

“I like to dance,” I tried.

He snarled at me.  “If you give even one ounce of a f**k about her, you’ll call me the second she contacts you again.”  He reached into his pocket, then thrust his fist at me, handing me a small card with nothing on it but a phone number.

Not f**king likely, but I didn’t even have time to tell him that, as he’d already started moving away, towards the club, a man clearly on a mission.