I’m fucking bored. The only reason I don’t leave is because they asked so sweetly. They were not demanding or authoritative, they genuinely needed me to stay. So I do.
I never said I would behave, just that I would stay. They should have known better. I do some work. Ryder left me with the contracts and information for the bars he wants to buy or build, so I flip through them, noting which will be good and discarding those that won’t be. He also included Roxers’ earnings and his investments with the money. It’s doing good, more than fucking good. Ryder has an eye for money and investments—the profit has tripled.
I have money.
More than I know what to do with or need.
He knew it would keep me busy for a while, the sneaky bastard, and it does, I’m excited to do something I love. Something good. I make a plan to only hire ex-cons and runaways. People who need it. They will get a good wage, and we can build some accommodations, give them a second chance at life. Like Rich gave me. That’s what I’m going to call it, the Rich Fund.
For him…the man who saved my life, the opportunity to create the fund given to me by the men who love me.
Who knew this is where I would end up? Not me when I slept under a bridge, freezing and starving.
After I make a plan on that, I find an old Polaroid camera tucked away in Kenzo’s room, and I take dirty pictures for them and hide them under their pillows, giggling the whole time. Next, I decide to try and break into their armoury, because honestly, I want my bat back. My eyes go back to the gunroom. It has a hand scanner, I wonder if I could open it. They added my prints to the building, surely that would include that? Unless it’s on a different system.
Deciding to try it, I head upstairs and press my hand to the screen, but it flashes red. Motherfucker. Now that I’m thinking about it, I want to know what’s inside. I need to. Mischievous urges fill me, the same ones that led to me ripping Ryder’s clothes and trashing his car, to leaving dirty pictures under their pillows, to buying that present which is on the way…
Fuck it.
I wonder… Sneaking downstairs, I grab a knife and head back to the door, trying to jimmy the lock, but it doesn’t work. “Hey, buff security dude?” I call, hanging over the balcony. “I need your body.”
He looks up from the window he was guarding and pales, stumbling away, his hands out as if to ward me off. “Please, please no, they will kill me. I—a…you’re very beautiful, but, fuck, don’t tell them I said that,” he begs, his eyes wide.
Laughing, I wave him up. “Not in that way, dude. I got four cocks, you think I need more? I won’t tell them if you throw yourself into this door for me.”
He glances at the door and shakes his head. “Hell no, they will murder me.”
“Nah they won’t, I won’t let them. I’ll tell them I did it. Come on, big dude, help a sister out,” I plead.
He looks to the others before sighing and coming upstairs, where he eyes the door. “You want me to break it down?”
“I could try, be all woman hear me roar, or I could be super smart and let a big, tough guy like you do it for me,” I offer sweetly, and he snorts.
“You’re more manipulative than them, I see why they love you,” he comments offhandedly, before pulling back his foot and kicking open the door. It smashes inwards, the lock dropping to the floor. “I never did that, you didn’t see it.” He huffs before wandering downstairs.
My phone vibrates, and I check to see it’s Ryder. I’ve been texting them all morning. Diesel’s last message was a picture of his face covered in blood with the caption, “You’re sitting on this later,” but this is a video call now. With a grumble, I head into his bedroom and flop on his bed, not wanting him to know what I’m up to yet.
I answer and angle the phone to see my face. He’s in a car, the phone held to his face so I can see just a peek of his suit. His hair is slicked back and his eyes are cold, but when they lock on me, they seem to melt a little. Even through the phone, I can feel his power, his all-consuming interest, and it has me shivering in need. Ryder Viper is a fucking weapon…to my vagina.
“Love, what are you up to?” he asks straightaway, his deep, husky voice having me clenching my thighs together, and then a naughty thought comes to mind.
Smirking at him, I angle the camera down and run my hand over my chest to cup my breasts before trailing down my stomach. He groans as I start to drag my dress up to reveal my thighs. “Love, are you on my bed?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “And I’m bored and horny,” I tell him, as I flash him my thong, parting my thighs as I let him watch me cup myself.
He groans and then snaps something off camera. I hear a squeal then a door. “What was that?” I laugh, tilting the camera back to see those icy eyes demanding and tight.
“I was not going to let them overhear you,” he snarls, as though it’s obvious, his tongue darting out and licking his bottom lip. “Show me again, love, touch yourself.”
“Oh, feeling naughty?” I laugh.
“Now, don’t make me ask again, Roxxane,” he orders.
“Or what?” I grin, trailing my hand up my thigh and showing him. “You are too far to do anything…”
He grunts. “Open your thighs, dip your fingers in, and show me how wet you are.”
Teasing him, I run my fingers across my pussy, pushing aside my thong. “If you were here, you could see for yourself.”
“Don’t fucking tempt me, love, Roxxane, do as you’re told,” he demands.
Gasping, I push my thong further aside, exposing myself to him, and I hear his answering groan. “So fucking wet,” he mumbles. “Touch yourself, let me watch.”
Arching up, I dip my fingers inside myself where he can see before circling my clit, wishing it was him. “Make yourself come, love. Let me watch. Then, if you’re good, when I get back, I’ll spend all night between your thighs eating your fucking pussy like a starving man.”
Imagining it, I rub faster, dipping my fingers inside myself again and fucking my pussy as he watches. I’m aware there are security guards downstairs, but I don’t care. “Yeah? No punishment?” I challenge breathlessly.
“Oh, love, there will always be a punishment, because you don’t know how to behave. You will come at least five times before you take my cock into that sweet little pussy. I’ll make my brothers watch while you scream and beg for me, fighting me even as you give in.”
His dirty words have me moaning loudly as I spread my thighs wider and speed up, rolling and thrusting into my fingers, reaching for that release I can feel approaching, needing it. “That’s it, baby girl, fuck yourself for me, take your own pleasure. Let me see those fingers inside that greedy little pussy.”
My pussy is still a little sore from last night, but I don’t care, the pain only adds to it, heightening the pleasure coursing through me.
Whimpering, I angle the camera further down, and he groans. “Are you touching yourself?” I gasp.
He groans. “Like a fucking teenager. We’re in a bloody parking garage with my guards right outside, and I’m fucking my hand, wishing it was your cunt.”
I can just imagine it. “Show me,” I beg.
I look at the screen, watching as he tilts it down. His suit is perfectly in place apart from his exposed cock. It’s in his hand, which is squeezing and stroking. The sight of his big, scarred hands wrapped around it have me almost screaming there and then as I come, writhing in the sheets as I almost lose my grip on the phone. “Let me watch,” he demands. “Don’t you fucking dare drop that phone.”
Whimpering, I clench around my fingers again, my pussy pulsing before I pull them free of my clinging muscles, soaked with my release. Lifting the camera up, I meet his wide, lust-filled eyes with my own and suck my fingers into my mouth, licking them clean. He grunts loudly, his eyes shutting for just a moment before they’re open and on me again. That ice is gone, and in its place is the volcano, the violence he hides underneath. “Fucking hell, love. I’ll be home in two hours. Two fucking hours, and then that pussy is mine.”
“Yeah?” I grin, pulling my fingers free. “You’ll have to catch me first, I plan on being very bad in the meantime.”
“One fucking hour,” he snarls.
Laughing, I hang up and slip from the bed, my heart slowing down. I clean up in his bathroom before going back out to the armoury. I’m not ashamed if they heard me downstairs, let them. If Ryder was here, I would have fucked him in front of them with no regrets. When it comes to my Vipers, I’m helpless to resist.
Okay, I made a dare to be bad. So it’s a good job we broke into this room. I can almost imagine the punishment now, and I can’t fucking wait. They have been too nice recently, and I crave their cruelty. Their power.
Sauntering into the armoury, I whistle as I take it in. This isn’t a goddamn room, it’s a fucking arsenal. Complete with weapons covering every wall and table, and rows upon rows of guns, swords, knives, grenades…and fucking missiles. Jesus. There is body armour and black cargos in the corner.
“Goddamn, it’s like I’m dating John Wick,” I mutter, as I look around. “I wonder if I could get one of them to role play being him.” I sigh as I trail my fingers across the weapons.
I bet Kenzo would, and with that dark hair, he could fit the role. Diesel is a little too crazy to be Keanu. Garrett would just tell me to fuck off, but then fuck me. Ryder would smirk and demand I give him something in return.
Bastards.
Even as I think that, though, I smile. I find my bat at the back of the room and grip it lovingly, raining kisses across the smooth wood. “I missed you too, baby, so much. I will never let them take you again. We’ll be back to kicking ass soon,” I promise lovingly.
Just then, my phone goes off. I’m torn between hugging my bat and answering, but when it buzzes again, I place my bat down and yank it out of my pocket…yes, that’s right, bitches, my dress has pockets. Ain’t anything better. You can hide snacks and weapons so easily.
Mardyfucker: I need your help, meet me at Hotel Mors.
I reread the text with a frown. If Garrett needs me, it must be serious. Peeking over the balcony, I look at the security dudes. I’m not stupid enough to go without them, he would get mardy. “Yo, big dudes, we’re rolling out.”
“Miss, we have been told for you to stay—” One of them starts.
I hold up my phone. “Garrett texted me, he needs our help, come on, autobots, unite!” I call, making one of them snort.
One of them pulls out their phone as I head downstairs. “Ryder isn’t answering. Okay, we go, but at the first sight of any trouble, we’re out of there. I don’t want to be killed because of this,” he mutters.
“You got it, big dude, and thanks to your body, I now have some new toys to take.” I grin, holding up the guns.
He winces. “They’re going to murder me.”
“Nah, okay, maybe, but they would make it quick.” I shrug as I strap on my weapons like a badass.
Female John Wick.
Lady Wick…nah, that sucks, I’ll come up with a kickass name on the way.
