Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

Well, that was easy.

I smiled, grateful to have the luscious blonde all to myself. I ushered her forward, to walk a couple steps ahead of me. I noticed the men around us turning to watch her walk by and I placed a hand at the small of her back.

She was mine.

At least for the next few hours.

She swiveled her hips as she swung around to lean against the bar. My eyes never left her ass, and I could feel my cock twitching as I watched the sway of her hips.

I flagged down the bartender and ordered two cocktails. Despite all the people crushing in around us, the service was fast, and within minutes we both had a drink in our hands. Samantha sipped her drink, her full lips grazing the edge of her glass in a distracting way. I studied her, wondering if I could cut through all the “what do you do for work, read a good book lately, and favorite food” bullshit.

“Are you from LA?” I asked, throwing out a simple question to test her eagerness to have a conversation. If she wanted to talk, we would talk. But once I got her alone, we would do what I wanted.

She took another slow sip before answering, licking the last drop off her lips.

Fuck…this girl knew what she was doing.

“No, I’m from New York. I’m just here through the weekend.”

Perfect. In four days, she would be three thousand miles away. Everything about her met my criteria.

“Let’s go upstairs,” I said, grazing her leg with my free hand, stroking her silky skin up her thigh.

She hesitated for a moment, but then smiled. “I’ve heard stories about you, Cooper Brighton.” She wagged a finger at me. “Are they all true?”

“Come upstairs with me and you’ll find out,” I said, a half-cocked grin spreading over my face.

She considered me for a bit and I chose that moment to push my hand under the tight edge of her dress, seeing if she would stop me.

She didn’t.

Her blue eyes darkened and she gasped when I made my way up the inside of her thigh and towards her panties—if she was wearing any. Two more inches and I would find out.

“Cooper,” she breathed, leaning forward and placing her lips gently against my ear.

My fingers slid higher.

“Take me upstairs,” she said. Her words sent gentle vibrations over my ear which seemed to travel through my entire body, lighting a fire within me that could only be extinguished one way.

I pulled my hand out from under her dress and immediately grabbed her hips. I pulled her flush against me as I took the final swig of my drink. Then I grabbed her by the waist and led her through the maze of people to the central bank of elevators. They were glass as well and for a moment, I could just imagine the number of people who would fuck inside them within the first month of the club being open. This kind of club was begging for people to get out of control. That was the whole draw of it. I slid my hands down the outside of Samantha’s dress, cupping her ass, as we rode up one floor.

Once we departed the elevator, the whole thing was fairly simple to arrange. As soon as we stepped out onto the second floor there was a large desk, almost like a reception desk at a high end hotel. A man in a dark suit stood behind the desk. I approached and with very few words, the entire thing was settled. He asked for my name—I gave him a fake one—and a pile of cash. In exchange, he handed me a little fob with a number etched into the black metal.

I smirked as I realized it was basically a really expensive, chic version of the one-hour motel. As we walked to the room I’d rented, I couldn’t help but peek in on the rooms we passed. Most of the rooms were closed up and I couldn’t see anything. But then, we started to pass a few that had opted to leave the windows open so anyone could see inside. It became pretty obvious which rooms were open for spectators, as there were small clusters of people milling around in front of them.

In the first one, there were two brunettes, one going down on the other. They were both naked and very shapely. My cock was rock hard with the anticipation of fucking the blonde on my arm, and seeing the glimpses of those two brunettes had me straining to keep control and not throw the blonde up against the wall and take her right in the hallway.

Apparently, it’s been too long, Brighton, I told myself. It was probably true. I had been far too busy working to have much play time lately. Most days, I stuck to my very rigid routine, one that started before the sun came up and ended well after it went down again—with ninety-nine percent of it spent shut up in my office in downtown LA at the Brighton Enterprises complex.

The brunette on the receiving end was climaxing—loudly—and I had to pry myself away from stopping any longer. The next room was also open, but far less interesting to me. Some big, meat-head guy and his little blonde spinner fucking like animals.

The whole thing reminded me of the red-light district in Amsterdam.

I had to give the club owner props. By the time we got to our room, I was rock hard and ready to go.

As soon as the door was closed behind us, I hit a switch and dimmed our windows out. I was too high-profile to do anything as stupid as leaving the windows open for the entire world to watch me fuck some chick— even if the idea of it did send a new sense of thrill through me.

The room was designed much like the rest of the club, gold and white. Luckily, whoever had designed it knew just where to draw the line to keep the whole thing from crossing over into tacky territory. It was actually very elegant.