Page 77 of Bells
“What the fuck does that even mean?” she huffed.
“Talks like a girlfriend.” I dropped to my knees, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her forward. Then I licked her pussy from bottom to top, through the thin fabric of the uniform pants. “Tastes like a girlfriend too,” I hummed.
She groaned, realized what she was doing, and shoved me back on my ass.
I kicked out and flipped onto my feet and threw myself onto the bed. My legs dangling over the side and the rest of me propped up on my elbows. I’d gotten rid of my pants and boxers while she was busy sulking in the bathroom, my shirt when she was staring at herself in the mirror and questioning her life choices. I hadn’t seen her do it. But it was a decent guessfor what she’d been doing in there for so long. The knife barely scratched her, and my thumb had already stopped bleeding.
This wasn’t a real fight. It was foreplay.
I coaxed her forward with a finger. “Now stop pouting and come over here and fuck me like a girlfriend.”
“How do girlfriends fuck any different from whores?” she asked.
I wasn’t sure if she was honestly curious or just messing with me. I thought the answer was obvious. It was obvious for anyone who’d ever fucked a whore, and it was obvious for the whores too. “Girlfriends get to finish. Whores don’t. I’m guessing you wanna finish,myshka?”
If she said yes, she would be admitting to wanting to fuck me. And if she said no, she’d be lying. The best part was that she knew it. She knew I’d done what I set out to do in the beginning. I’d trapped her.
She yanked the uniform shirt over her head and crossed the room. My legs were already back up on the bed by the time she was tugging her pants down her legs, flinging her underwear on the floor, and climbing on top of me.
It was much easier to accept you were trapped when you were the one clicking the door shut and throwing away the key.
She took a breath and slammed down on my cock. One hand clamped over my grin and the other braced on my chest for leverage. I tried to grab on to her hips, and she slapped my hand away so I tucked my palms behind my head and let her enjoy the ride.
Her tits bounced up and down in her sports bra, her hair falling behind her and brushing against my balls when she threw her head back, her nostrils fluttering with each sharp breath, and her eyebrows creased in the middle.
She was grinding much harder than usual. Punishingly hard, and I couldn’t quite figure out if it was me she was looking topunish or herself. If it was me, she was doing a piss-poor job of it. Because my cock never felt better. Neither had her pussy. It was squeezing and flexing and sucking and gushing.
She gave up on trying to keep my hands off her, or she was just tired of doing all the work herself, and let me roll her over onto her back. Her eyes closed and her mouth parted, and I thrust my cock deeper inside her. Driving up and a little to the left. Hitting that spot that had her biting down on a lip to keep from screaming.
I pulled away and flipped her onto her stomach, pushing her face into the mattress as I continued to fuck her from behind. Watching my cock pull almost all the way out, catch on the outer rim of her pussy, and drive back in again. Over and over until she could feel me in her stomach, and I could feel her everywhere else.
My balls clapping her ass cheeks. My cock covered in her pussy juice. My knees closed in by her legs. My hands digging into her waist to keep us both from falling forward. But worst of all? My fucking head. I could feel this chick crawling around inside my head. Poking at spots she wasn’t supposed to be. Spots no one was supposed to be.
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
CASPER
Ipulled the folded-up piece of paper out of my hoodie pocket and tossed it across the desk at Bugs. He glanced over at it but didn’t stop doing whatever he was doing on the other side of that screen.
It was obvious he had a cock-sized stick up his ass. Bigger and less orgasm-inducing than the one I’d been driving into Bellatrix’s cunt a few hours ago. She was back at the apartment sleeping. Didn’t even move when I crept out the door and took the drive over to B-wood. I was tempted to snag her bike but didn’t want her storming over here to get it.
I didn’t plan on being home that long anyway, just long enough to get my face seen, grab some supplies, and do a little recon. I had to be smarter when it came to all my comings and goings. People were starting to take notice. And by people, I meant the bossman.
He didn’t say anything to me directly. Probably because he knew I wouldn’t tell him shit. But he had the other guys hanging around my usual haunts. Including Sullivan’s. Little horny spiesmore concerned about where my dick was going than they should be for guys who had dicks of their own to worry about.
Bugs clicked harder on his keyboard and mumbled to himself. I didn’t know why the fucker always left his door open if he didn’t like people barging in on him. Maybe he was worried about being trapped too.
“More banking numbers?” he asked with a huff, telling me he hadn’t even side-eyed the piece of paper yet. He was just guessing.
“Nope. Lawyers.”
That had him finally glancing up and to the right. He dropped his mouse, grabbed the paper, and quickly unfolded it.
I jutted my chin towards the names I scribbled out in my chicken-shit handwriting. Bugs could read it, though. Not many others could.
“I wanna know if there’s a crossover, any names or companies or aliases that have anything to do with the fucker who paid into those accounts.” I didn’t wait for him to agree before throwing out the stack of cash I’d gotten from the politician’s wife. It still smelled like her expensive perfume. I had a half a dozen more bundles stashed away in various hiding spots, wrapped up in Ziplock bags and a couple of dryer sheets so these greedy fuckers couldn’t sniff 'em out.
“And this guy? Bernard Westbrook?” Bugs tapped on one of the names on the list. “He’s not a lawyer.”
