Bad Boys of London: The Complete GYPSY HEROES Collection (5 page)

She shudders with shock and white-hot lust.

My little finger comes away wet. I smile with satisfaction. She freezes, her breathing shallow. I want to see her face. Very deliberately, I put both my hands on the bed on either side of me. Coldly, I say, ‘I’m done.’

Immediately she scrambles to the floor and, crawling away, crouches like a cornered animal. She looks up at me with big, wet eyes full of hatred. Tears sparkle on her eyelashes. Her mouth quivers with temper. The princess exterior has been stripped away. Only the raw and helplessly sexual animal inside every human remains. Just as I know her buttocks must be humming, I know she will never admit that she is more turned on than she has ever been.

‘Are you satisfied now, you sick bastard?’ she spits. She is so furious her voice shakes.

‘Fix your clothes and return to the party,’ I tell her callously.

Using her palms to lever herself up, she springs to her feet and pulls her multi-layered skirts down over her stinging skin so roughly it makes her wince. She glares at me.

‘I hate you,’ she whispers.

‘Join the queue.’

‘I know now why they call you the bat. You’re a fucking vampire, living in this ridiculous black dungeon.’

I shrug and look at her without expression. Sticks and stones maybe. Words? Forget it.

‘I hope I never lay eyes on you again,’ she hurls bitterly at me.

I watch her snatch her purse from the floor, and start walking towards the door.

‘Layla.’ My voice is a like whip. Even in her state she didn’t dare disobey it.

She turns around and stares defiantly at me.

‘My tiepin.’

She is so furious she very nearly breaks the clasp of her purse as she wrenches it open. She digs around, finds my tiepin, and violently flings it at my face.

I catch it easily in one hand. ‘Enjoy the party,’ I advise calmly.

‘Pervert,’ she snarls and slams the door shut on my mocking laughter. Sure, I get it: hers is the tale of the Princess and the Pea in reverse. She didn’t enjoy being confronted with the animal inside her. Me, I am irredeemably base and animalistic, making me beyond excited to be acquainted with a newly created creature in my bedroom.

FIVE

Layla

T
he sounds of the party float up to me as I stand shocked and frozen in the hallway. Then it hits me: any moment now he could open the door and come out. With a panicked sob, I turn left and run for the bathroom. I lock the door with shaking fingers, and lean back against it, panting hard.

Why, oh why, did I ever go into his bedroom? Now
everything
is messed up. I look in the mirror. A red-faced stranger with smeared make-up, a gaping mouth, and crazy eyes stares back. Anger and hate sparkle in my eyes, but there is something else too. Something more primal.

I drop my gaze hurriedly and turn on the tap, splashing cold water on my face. I feel hot, confused, angry, and ashamed. My bum is stinging like mad, but … God, I feel alive, in a way I have never felt. And … I am wet. So wet.

The primal look in my eyes is pure arousal.

Sexual excitement.

Jesus! Oh sweet Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with me? I cannot understand why I am aroused. I hate that son of a bitch. I’ve always hated him. He is a callous, uncouth man-whore. A sleazy, bag of shit who regularly sleeps with strippers and makes his money running sex clubs. He’s practically a criminal. I abhor men like him. Even through the tears that had filled my eyes, I had seen the satisfaction and gloating triumph on his face.

I should be livid.

I
am
livid. The memory of his large palm, full of calluses landing on my bare buttocks fills my head. With that last strike he had deliberately slapped my, my unmentionables. He had allowed his dirty fingers to touch my sex! How dare he? Bastard!

I turn around, lift my skirt, and look back at my throbbing bottom in the mirror. It is lobster red. I feel the fury bubbling in my veins, but another sensation more powerful than anger intrudes. I don’t want to examine or address it. Taking deep, calming breaths, I repair my make-up with trembling hands, then open the door and stick my head outside. 

The hallway is deserted.

I start walking down it, but as I pass his bedroom door I start running. At the top of the stairs I stop and walk down the steps slowly. No one has missed me or seen anything. Everything is exactly as I left it and yet I’m entirely different. My hands won’t stop trembling and there is a tight knot of tension in my stomach. All I want to do is run away. I will die if I have to see him again in the state I am in. I walk quickly towards the main room, my eyes darting around fearfully. Fortunately I spot my brother, Jake, standing head and shoulders above the crowd. The sight of him makes me want to start bawling. Squaring my shoulders I push through the crowd and go to him. He is looking down at Lily with a lovesick expression on his face.

‘Jake,’ I call, my voice tremulous.

His head whips around, his body is immediately tense and his eyes narrow dangerously. ‘What is it?’ he asks.

‘I don’t feel well. I want to go home. Can you call me a taxi?’

He takes a step towards me, his body relaxing with relief. He is over-protective I can’t even begin to imagine what utter havoc would ensue if he knew what BJ has done to me.

He puts an arm around my shoulder lovingly. ‘What’s wrong, little bear?’

I want to throw my arms around him and cry my eyes out, but I don’t. I bite back my tears and lean against his strong, warm body. ‘I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me. I’ve just been sick in the toilet,’ I lie miserably.

‘Come on, we’ll take you home. Shane can give Ma a ride when she’s ready to go.’

Lily comes forward, her eyes are concerned and she is playing along, but she is a woman and she does not believe my fairy tale.

‘I’ll go find BJ. I should tell him we are leaving.’

I clutch his hand with both of mine and look up at him pleadingly. ‘Can’t you just call him from the car and tell him?’

He looks as if he is about to say something, but thinks better of it, and nods. Then the three of us make our way to a smiling girl in a Playboy bunny costume who takes our tickets and gives us our coats. It is only when we get outside that I am able to breathe properly again. I hardly hear when Jake gets on the phone with BJ and then Shane to arrange Ma’s ride home.

I am too bruised and shaken.

SIX

BJ

I
stand at the curving windows with my back to the party and watch her leave, Jake’s arm curved protectively around her narrow back. Something within the darkest recesses of me whirls loose and flaps noisily in the wind. I had managed to ignore it for this long, but I know I cannot secure it back the way it was. You could say that the old hand is back, knocking at the old door.

I don’t open the door.

My fists clench tight. I’ll find release in another body. It was only a base animalistic reaction. There is nothing special about her. I’ll find a body more suited to my taste and fuck it. A lush, full-figured woman. A pair of hips I can grab while I am ramming into her. Someone who won’t look at me as if I have crawled out of the sewers, as if I make her feel itchy and unclean.

Yet my behavior was rotten. I shouldn’t have given in to my crazy impulse. So unlike me and so fuckin’ foolish.

I turn away from the window. The party is still in full swing, but it is as if all flavor has been sucked out of it. A hand lands on my arm. I look down at it. Oval-shaped nails painted pearlescent, good skin. I let my eyes flow upwards.

Mmmm … tight, yellow dress clinging onto breasts like planets. Well, big enough to feed a small African tribe anyway. I like that. Abundance. That’s what stuck-up, spoilt Layla lacks.

And blonde. Yeah. I’m
very
partial to blonde pussy.

My eyes rise higher up to a plump, slightly sulky mouth. Perfect for sucking cock.

By the time I reach her eyes, it’s a done deal. Cornflower blue, of course. As pretty as flowers and no hint that she sees anything unclean or itchy about the view in front of her.

I vaguely recognize her. The memory is fuzzy, but I think she’s candy from one of Shane’s clubs. I sort of remember flirting with her at the party Jake threw to celebrate the reopening of Eden. However, if I remember correctly, I ended up leaving with another dancer. It occurs to me that I had seen Layla that night too, and she had been rude to me then too. Bitch.

‘Hello,’ Blondie drawls. ‘You went home with the South American dancer the last time.’

I smile, letting it reach all the way up to my eyes. ‘I might have been a bit drunk and my cock might have been waylaid around the corner from you.’

She leans closer. ‘You’re not drunk tonight, are you?’

‘As sober as a saint.’

‘Good. Cause my pussy’s been aching for that great fuck you promised ever since.’

My smile widens. I could do with a dose of random cunt. There is comfort, immense comfort in anonymous curves. ‘I remember you now. You’re the one who can suck cock for days.’

She smiles with satisfaction that I have remembered her. ‘That’s right. I can suck cock like you can’t believe.’

I grab Blondie and, swinging her around, walk her backwards until her back presses against the wall, and she is hidden from the room by my bulk. I slide my hand under her dress and she helpfully spreads her legs. She is not wearing panties. Perfect. My kind of girl. She moans as my fingers part her slippery folds. She is so wet, even I am impressed.

‘What’s this?’ I ask.

‘Tug it and see,’ she suggests.

I tug at the metal stud in her pieced labia.

She wriggles and tilts her pelvis towards me.

I insert a finger into her and slowly fuck her with it.

‘Harder,’ she urges throatily.

I fit another two fingers in and pump her so roughly her body jerks.

‘Yes, yes,’ she encourages fiercely, her eyes glazed with lust.

She’s great, but she won’t be enough. Not tonight. Not when I am this wired. I’ve got too much energy to burn. She’ll be out cold before I’m finished.

‘Listen cupcake, I’m looking for a threesome tonight,’ I whisper in her ear.

‘I have a friend,’ she gasps immediately.

‘Good. Go get her.’ I take my fingers out of her pussy and hold them in front of her mouth. She tilts her head forward and sucks them greedily the way she would a dick, while staring boldly into my eyes. Yup,
definitely
my kind of girl.

My fingers exit her mouth with a wet pop.

I step sideways to let her pass, and watch her truly round and wonderful ass samba as she goes off in search of another body for me. I feel rather pleased with myself. It’s gonna be a goooooood night, after all.

I bring my hand up to my nose and smell it, but she has sucked away the smell of her pussy. All that is left is Layla’s scent, lingering like a rare perfume from a lost garden.

Damn you, Layla Eden. Just damn you.

Her friend is a Rita Hayward look alike, but with flaming copper hair. Obviously another dancer; I can always tell by the confident way they move. Unlike women who don’t use their bodies to earn money, dancers get that their physical form gives them immense power over mere men. She slides up to me sinuously. I swear I have never seen a woman to walk in such a serpentine fashion before. It is actually fascinating to watch. My cock twitches with interest.