Filthy Desire (The Dirty Kings of Vegas)

It shouldn’t make me a slave, though.

Still steadying myself with one hand against the sink, I fill a glass with cold water. I can’t even find the energy to get ice. Greedily I glug the whole glass down, almost spilling it.

Then I hear the voice behind me. A cold feeling trickles down my spine. I didn’t hear him come in. Could he have been here all the time?

“Thirsty girl.”

Aaron. Six foot four of entitlement and rage, carying scatter-gun adolescent resentment into his late twenties.

“We should see what we can do to help you there.”

He would be okay looking if his face weren’t fixed in a storm of grudge and blame.

I turn slowly to face him. My ass rolls against the cabinet. Pressing back when I see how near his grin is.

“Shocked are we, little mousey?” His hot breath makes me wince as he leers down at me. “Stunned at being suddenly alone. In close quarters with a big, hard cock?”

I know the way to deal with a bully is to face them down. Better still, knock them down. I wouldn’t have the strength to do that to Aaron O’Leary. Not even if I could hypnotize him first.

He moves nearer. Close enough that I couldn’t even get a swing at him. If I put all I had into driving my knee into his balls, I would only jam my thigh between his. That would make him think I was gagging for him.

If I was a smart girl, I would let him think I was into it. Let him take it that way. Go with it. Wait and hold back. However long it took.

Then smash his balls.

Or bite off the end of his cock. Fucker.

But I can’t do it. I haven’t got the grit or the strength. Not enough to go through what it would take to reach that position. I couldn’t do it. A botched move would only make it worse.

That shows them you’re weak. it empowers them.

“Aaron, don’t.” It’s feeble, but it’s all I’ve got. I say it with enough force to deflate him, though. He hesitates. Takes half a step back.

But then he rallies. “Acting prim and pure now, are you, mousey? I can’t wait to see the shock and pain in your face when I screw my hard, fat cock up your ass.”

Reflex takes over. I jab my knee up as hard as I can and I whirl my fists at him.

His grin splits wide as he overpowers me.

Chapter Four

Liam

I came out for a glass of water and a moment away from Jack’s lying face. Sounds of a struggle come from behind the kitchen door. I turn the handle extra quietly and and enter fast.

Jack’s son, the lumbering Aaron, has Tegan held by the wrists. Her face reddens as she struggles. I can’t see his face, but I know the type well enough. He’s the type of man who might amuse himself pulling the legs off a spider.

Jack obviously invested his ambitions for the future in this overgrown brat. He’s in for a lifelong chain of crushing disappointments.

Spoiled brutes like Aaron are all too common in the life. A man works hard, makes something of his life, then he wants to give his children the advantages he feels he missed out on. But it’s a total waste if you don’t teach them gratitude first.

I drop my voice, hard and low. It rasps in the tiled echo of the kitchen.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Aaron.” The lunk hasn’t even got the spatial sense, the awareness to know how close I moved up behind him.

He half turns and sneers. “You’re a guest here, old man. Cool your beans.”

I can’t stop a laugh at that. “You’re nearly a man, Aaron. You should act like one and show some respect.”

His face clouds. Not a pretty sight. “Get the fuck out of here. Warm up some fucking milk. Find yourself a wicker chair and a blanket.” Aaron’s lip curls back.

I chuckle. The rumble is like a firecracker in a tin box. “Do you need help getting up?”

“What?” Aaron cocks his fist, turning to swing.

I slam my forearm into the side of his neck. The punk drops like a sack.

I look in Tegan’s eyes. Inside, I’m on fire. Raw energy charges me up. I have to divert it.

She’s twenty at most. I can’t let myself go near her.

Even knowing how much it would piss Jack off, it’s out of the fucking question.

And she’s too lovely for what’s in my mind. I want her in the filthiest ways. I haven’t thought about things like that since I lost my lovely, dirty-minded Maria.

I let my eyelids drift closed, slowly. Reach a hand to Aaron on the floor without looking at him. I can feel his petulant snarl. I don’t need to look in his reddened face.

Her scents are in my head. My pulse hammers. Her lovely breasts heave and her lips are wet. When her chin tilts up, her pale neck stretches and my cock thrums.