Little Bird by Kally Ash
Bane
Wrappingmy hand around Syn’s long hair, I forced her down farther onto my dick bobbing in and out of her mouth. Seeing Wren and not being able to touch her like I wanted to had left my dick hard—too fucking hard to think about anything else. I had to have an outlet for that frustration. Otherwise, nothing would get done for the rest of the day.
She gripped my thighs, digging her false nails into the muscle. I sucked in a hiss and pumped harder, hitting the back of her throat over and over again. She groaned her appreciation of the rough treatment, so I upped the tempo. Slamming into her, I tilted my head and let my gaze drift to her breasts bouncing from inside the cup of her bra. She was in red today, the color clashing with her bottle-colored hair.
As soon as she tugged on my balls, they tightened with a release. With a roar, I slammed into her once more, spilling down her throat. She swallowed me down, sucking and licking and looking for more. She let go of my cock with an audible pop, and it came to settle against my lower belly, glistening with her saliva.
Running my thumb over her bottom lip, I murmured, “You love cock, don’t you?”
She nodded. “More than anything.” She stood smoothly, her spike heels evenly distributing her weight. “Need anything else from me?” she asked, running her hands suggestively over her breasts and down into her panties. “You got me all wet.”
“Go find someone to fuck, then,” I told her dismissively, tucking myself back into my pants. “I’m busy.”
I didn’t bother to watch Syn leave. Instead, I returned my attention to the screen of my computer monitor and tried to ignore all thoughts of Wren Montana. It was completely useless. Wren was so firmly stuck in my frontal lobe that I’d thought about nothing else since last night.
That was the reason for the visit this morning.
That was the reason I gave her my card and offered her a job.
It probably wasn’t the job she would be expecting as I had no desire to share her with any other man. The woman was a fucking hellcat. I liked spirit, especially when that spirit was directed at something meaningful. So many times, women were just bitches for the sake of being bitches, but with Wren, I could see what drove her—family and a sense of responsibility.
I saw the same in myself.
Picking up my phone, I dialed my sister, Bianca.
“Baby brother,” she answered breathlessly. “To what do I owe the pleasure.”
Rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, I groaned out, “Please tell me you didn’t answer the phone while you were having sex.”
She snorted. “No. I’m out for a run with Valentine,” she replied.
I sat a little straighter in my chair. Valentine was her four-month-old daughter. “Should you be doing that?” I barked, then reined that anger back in. Bianca had never reacted well to anger, but I wasn’t asking out of anger. It was concern. Bianca had had a difficult pregnancy, topped off with a fucking difficult labor that had left her in the hospital for about a week longer than necessary after giving birth.
“Yes, brother, I’m fine,” she replied in a bored voice. “The doc gave me the all-clear. All he said was I had to take it easy.”
“And you goddamn will.” I looked up when Dagger came into the office, and I put my finger up to show him to wait a minute. “How’s my favorite niece anyway?”
“She’s good… misses her uncle, though. When are you coming over for a visit?”
“I don’t know.” I stared absently at the club through the window. Being that it was lunchtime on a Friday, it was slow right now, but in another couple of hours, members would be foaming at the mouth to get in. The working week was over, and they were looking to blow off some fucking steam. “Work has been busy.”
“How’s the club doing?”
There was no derision in her voice when she asked. She knew that the club wasn’t about being a chauvinist or a sex fiend, although I was a sex fiend too. She understood that I was a businessman first and foremost. She thought I only sold pussy. She didn’t know about the drug business on the side, and that was the way it was going to stay.
“It’s great. Profit margins are healthy. I might actually look at expanding like we talked about.”
“That’s amazing, Bane. I’m really happy for you.” There was a faint, tinny beep over the line, and Bianca said, “Shit, my heart rate’s dropping. I’d better get going. Thanks for the call. When should I tell James we’ll be expecting you?”
I clicked into my digital calendar. Weekends were out on account of that being the busiest time of the week, but we were closed on Monday for deep cleaning. “Monday for dinner.”
“I’ll make your favorite.”
I chuckled. “Love you, sis.”
“Love you, too, brother.”
I ended the call and looked at Dagger. “We have a problem,” he said.
I stood, buttoning my suit jacket. “We run out of condoms again?” I asked in a bored drawl. “Because that shit is way below my pay grade.”
“One of our guys got hit.”
I was instantly on alert, narrowing my eyes at him. “Got hit, how?”
Dagger’s expression didn’t change. At all. “Same as the last one.”
My hands balled into fists of their own volition. “Fuck!” A month ago, we lost one of my dealers to what we thought was gang violence. He’d been shot in the chest when he’d opened his apartment door. His cash had been taken, but the drugs had been left, which was fucking strange since he had about ten thousand worth in his house. I didn’t think anything of it. Until now.
Now, his execution made sense.
Stalking out from behind my desk, I began to pace. I was a caged tiger ready to swipe at anything stupid enough to get close to the bars.
“We need to find these fuckers and get rid of them.” Dagger watched me with his cold, dead eyes. “Do we have any leads?”
“Most logical choices are Manzetti or Sanderson.”
I ground my teeth so hard my jaw ached. I refused to be taken out of the coke game by anyone. “Find out who it is, then bring me their goddamn head!”
Dagger said nothing, just turned around and left the office, leaving me with a fuck-ton of simmering rage. I was anticipating some retribution for cutting in on the East Coast drug trade, but I was thinking it would be more like my dealers getting beaten up or an easy warning. I expected to know where the threat was coming from, but this shit was fucked up.
I was in the fucking dark here.
I was not totally to blame, though. I’d known I was setting up a territory that fringed both Manzetti’s and Sanderson’s. I’d taken over their No Man’s Land and filled it with my own coke, slightly undercutting the bastards on price to ensure it would take.
Mancini had always taught me to take what I wanted, then fight tooth and nail to keep it, and that was what I was goddamn doing.