Page 5 of The Queen's Joker
“Let’s go to the couch,” he proposes, but that isn’t within camera distance, so I need to suggest something closer to the window.
“Fuck me against your desk. I want you to think of me whenever you come to work.” Not leaving room to say no, I bent over the side of the desk and tilted my head to look out the window. Maybe I can get off just knowing Joker is watching. I flip my red hair over my shoulder and crook my finger at him while biting my bottom lip.
With hungry eyes, he wastes no time pulling me in for a kiss before pushing my front onto his desk. His fingertips run down my back, and then he grips and pulls my panties down and licks my center, making me moan. I hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper and turn my head to ask if he is going to stop. Before I say anything, he runs his condom-covered tip along my folds, then thrusts in from behind. Thankfully, the condom helps provide the lubrication I need.
As he thrusts, I understand why his wife wants to leave him: no foreplay, less than five inches, and a selfish lover who was only after his satisfaction. The whole thing smells like a recipe for a wonderful husband. “You like that, baby?” Only I don’t know if he is talking to me or my vagina at this point.
The only reply I will give is moaning. “That means no, bud,” Joker mutters through the earpiece. I look at the building where I know he is before I roll my eyes in his direction. He chuckles, making me smile.
There are three more thrusts, and Jasper is filling up the condom behind me. “Sorry, baby… you’re just so sexy.” Include premature ejaculation to that running list of reasons for his wife to leave him.
I turn and smile up at him. “Well, there is always next time,” I respond before giving him a peck on the lips, even though there is no way in hell I will give him a next time. He is about to be ghosted by yours truly, and he doesn’t know how badly his life is about to get fucked. I hope I was worth it. As I turn around, I nip at his earlobe. “Maybe we cuddle up on that couch, and we can get round two in?” More lies from my lips to his ears, and he eats up like a glutton.
He walks to the couch without his pants, wearing only his button-down shirt. I follow close behind, smiling as I notice how his movements are becoming slower. The orgasm I am sure helped with that. He pulls me in close as we lie down, and I let out a girlish giggle. “I could get used to this, baby.” I let out a sigh of contentment, pretending that his mediocre dicking blew my mind. The man must have an enormous ego because he buys everything I am selling.
“Me too.” He pulls me in for a kiss. “I am going to rest my eyes, then prepare for round two, beautiful.”
Chapter seven
I sit and wait until my Queen finishes gathering the files we need. The one pump chump is sleeping on the couch. She exits the room with a thumb drive in hand. She is so incredibly sexy and looks sexually frustrated. Maybe it’s annoyance? I know the guy annoyed me, and I didn’t have to fuck him. Her sexy mouth is pinching together, which makes me want to run my thumb over them. Or better yet, give her something better to do with that mouth. Her lipstick isn’t even smudged. If only I could slide between those legs of hers. Thoughts of her with mascara running down her face and her lipstick everywhere other than where it’s supposed to be. A man can dream at least because she looks like a walking wet dream.
I shake those thoughts away while I collect my things. My movements become quick and almost aggressive as I zip up the bag in frustration. As much as I want her, it can never happen. Not bothering to wait for the elevator, I take my frustrations out running down the stairs to the parked car on the street. Unlocking the doors, I throw my bag into the backseat of the blacked-out car as I sit and wait for her to cross the street.
As I see her exit the building, my Queen is openly sobbing as she carries herself across the street. The sight makes me want to run to get her, to help her into the car. However, I know that would only piss her off further. When she opens the door, she practically falls into the leather seat. Mascara is running down her face, with tears choking her. The only time that I want to see her like this is if she is gagging on my cock. That thought gets me hard, wanting to lick her tears away.
“Was he that bad?” I try to lighten the mood, not knowing how to get her to stop crying. Give me torture and murder over her tears any day. Well, I particularly enjoyed that part of my job, but not this. The entire mission tonight has been the worst part of my year. I am not a man who is good with words.
Her breathing quickens as her hands shake. She places her head between her knees, trying to breathe. Fuck this, I put the car in park, and I pull her over to me. I hold her as she falls apart, wanting so badly to kill someone. “Just breathe, pretty girl,” I keep repeating to her over and over, rubbing her back and reassuring her I got her. “I’m here.”
My fingers itch to rip the red fucking wig off of her head, but I don’t. Keep it together. Knowing that her hair will smell like coconuts and some shit, I don’t know what it is but smells amazing. My fingers ache to run through her dark, wavy hair before gripping it tightly and pulling her lips to my mouth… to let me fuck this pain away, but I won’t ever do that. “Tell me what you need, Queen.”
“Take me to the safe house.” She sits up and slides back over to the car’s passenger side. I wish she would say something more, but the only thing she does is stare blankly out of the window. Zombie Queenie has replaced my Queen, and I don’t know if she will return.
I get to the safe house I always use and jump out of the car to unlock the front door. As I turn around, Queen is still sitting in the car, staring out the window and not moving. Fuck. This is not good. I walk back and open her car door. Her blank eyes stare at me. She looks numb. Her lip trembling is the only sign of life she gives to me. Deciding to scoop her up, I carry her bridal style into the house.
“Shower?” She nods weakly at me. I gently pull her wig off and help her hair free. The smell of coconut hits me, and I allow myself a moment of weakness and run my fingers along her scalp. Then, gathering her up again in my arms, I walk into the shower and undress her. This is the second time I am undressing her, and I wouldn’t say I like the reason behind it. This seems like some sick form of punishment. It’s for my Queen. I repeat that over in my head because I will gladly do it for her no matter what she needs.
I move to turn on the shower. Once the water turns warm, I stand in the corner of the massive walk-in shower in case she needs me. She stands there and lets the water run over her. She does not move for several minutes, allowing the water pour over her face. Then her arm moves fast, grabbing the faucet and turning it so the water gets hotter, creating steam clouds around her. She takes the loofa and scrubs her skin vigorously with soap. Her beautiful skin becomes red from the water and her assault on her body.
“Queen,” I say before her eyes snap at me, and she scowls and practically sneers at me while shooting daggers at me. I hate her looking at me like I’m the enemy. Doesn’t she know I am always on her side? Imploring her with my eyes, I plead with them because I don’t have the words to make her understand. “Stop.”
“I feel so dirty, like bugs are crawling underneath my skin.” She scrubs harder, her skin discoloring further. “I need all the places he touched clean!”
She has made up her mind about what’s best for her. There is no trying to stop her. It will only piss her off further. In her mind, this is what she needs to do to process. I know what she needs, but I must wait until she feels clean. “Fine.” I let my voice be calm yet attention-grabbing because she needs to understand that not everything will be her way. There are some things that I can’t sit by and watch this happen again. I never try to take over or tell her how to live life, but I am the only one who can currently do so. “Do it your way. When you’re done doing it your way, we will try my way.”
Leaning against the wall, I watch her behind the glass while she scrubs herself raw. It takes everything I have in me not to stop her. A memory tried to surface in my mind when I was smaller and not in control of my body. I shake that off because I’m never returning to that place again. Reaching into my pocket, I light a cigarette while pretending the flame is burning the memory from my mind. As I feel the smoke and nicotine relax me, I pull my phone out and text Nick, my tattoo artist.
I need a favor, and I will be there soon. Pay you double.
I look back at Queen before I force myself to find an ashtray. The last thing I need is cigarette burns from being careless. Deciding to make myself useful, I grabbed some clothes that I have stashed here for Queen. Only she and I have stayed in this house, which I use as my haven when I need to escape. My phone vibrates again. Nick texts back, and I roll my eyes at the prick.
Triple.
He is lucky I need him, or else I would tell him to get fucked. After Queenie gets dressed, I usher her out to the car. She protests weakly, but once I get her in the car, I sit silently, wanting to say something, but I don’t have any words for her. I put the car in gear and exited the gated driveway. “That was the first time since…”
My jaw clenches tight, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from screaming. I slam the car back into park. I look at her and can’t help the anger on my face. My anger is growing with each passing second. What the fuck was she thinking? She and I could have operated this mission across the street, directing one of the girls on the team on what to do. A face card was played, but the Queen of Hearts and the Joker supervised the mission. “You let some mark be the first person you let fuck you? Queen, you deserve more than that.” I turn on my playlist and blast Sleep Token while I throw my head back against the headrest.
Throwing the car back into gear, I take off. When I reach the end of the street with my foot on the brake, I swallow my anger and look at Queen. Her hair is wet and her face is pale, but I need to know she looks at me when I tell her this. My two fingers point at her as I say the next words, “You either tell them you’re no longer fucking marks, or I will.” My grip tightens on the steering wheel, trying to keep my anger under the surface the best I can. I will keep her secrets, but not when it’s killing her. I fucking hate her sleeping with anyone. When she locked eyes with me as she was being fucked, I got so hard. Not at the idea of him fucking her, but just seeing her look so sexy. Even if she was pretending, I wanted to be the one who made her moan in passion.