Page 12 of Mischief Mayhem
VERONA
“Well, what do you want?” I asked, licking my lips.
He dropped his focus to the movement, bringing his cigarette to his mouth for a deep inhale before letting the smoke out on a sigh. Then, he stood and walked to the door separating this room from the main clubhouse area. It was three thirty in the morning, and even though the music still blared from out there, most of the brothers had either headed home already or passed out in the back rooms. Despite this, Hollywood leaned out and glanced around before kicking the door closed and sealing the lock.
The sound of the metal deadbolt sliding into place bounced off the walls, increasing my heart rate as I realized I was trapped . . . alone . . . in a room with Hollywood . . . after agreeing to do whatever he wanted.
Any of those hang-arounds out there would have died for this opportunity, and yet, my hands trembled and my palms grew sweaty. I sat still, my attention glued to the way his hips moved as he stalked back to his seat like a predator, lithe powerful muscles rolling under his skin. The silence hung between us, and for half a heartbeat, I considered that this too might be a game. I’d been preparing for something sexual, and he’d force me to do something stupid and ridiculous to embarrass myself.
“I want you,” he started, lowering his body back into his seat, “to talk to me like you do to your submissives.”
What?
I trained my features, doing my best to keep a cool expression as my brain came to a halt. Of all the things I’d thought he’d say, that had not even ranked in the top ten. He wanted me to dominate him? Verbally?
Jesus fucking Christ, sign me up. Wait . . . What?
“Why?” I asked, narrowing my gaze in suspicion. Is this a trick?
“I already told you”—he leaned in, lowering his voice even further—“because it turns me on.”
I inhaled on slow measured breaths, telling myself we’d both had a lot to drink, so this was as much about him being uninhibited as me. We would regret this in the morning, but at that moment, I couldn’t find any reason to stop.
“Why me?” I held his gaze, his dark irises now almost turned completely black by his pupils. “You could have your choice of any of those hang-arounds?—”
“I’ve never seen any of them so skilled with a whip.” He punctuated the P on the end of the last word, making it seem more erotic than it had any right being.
“I should have known.” I raised an eyebrow, wishing my heart would stop beating so damned hard. I had no idea Hollywood would ever think about me in this way, but now that he’d implanted the image in my mind, I couldn’t deny the effect it had on me. I’d love nothing more than to make him kiss my boots and thank me for it. He had such a beautiful face, exquisitely built for riding. “No.” I cut off that line of thought off. “No, pick something else.”
“Why?” He furrowed his brows, actually seeming hurt.
“Because you’re you . . . and I’m me.”
“Oh, c’mon,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Like you said, I won’t touch you and you won’t touch me. It’s nothing I can’t go online and get anytime I wanted.”
That got my attention. “You’ve watched my videos?”
“Guess you’ll have to play me again to find out.” He shrugged, tilting his head back so he stared down at me with rebellion flickering behind his gaze. “Now, we had a bet and you need to pay up.”
“What exactly did you have in mind?”
He blew a breath out through his nose while he leaned back in his seat and ran his eyes over me again.
“I want you to take off your underwear and stuff it in my mouth,” he said, shifting his hips while he pulled on his cigarette. “Then, I want you to spread your legs and show me your pretty pussy while you finger yourself and tell me how much you love hating me.”
Fucking hell. My cunt twisted with excitement, my thighs shivering as I clenched them to alleviate the ache. Every bit of logical restraint I had screamed at me to stop this. Sober Verona would not like it, but Drunk Verona told that sober buzzkill to take a fucking hike. She figured I might as well put my money where my mouth was.
Reaching for my water, I took a few steadying sips and closed my eyes, trying to summon the headspace despite being tipsy. When I lowered the cup and opened them again, Hollywood had stabbed his cigarette out and now waited for my reaction, his beautiful brown stare hungry.
“What the fuck are you looking at, Hudson?” I raised my eyebrow and looked at him like he was a despicable cockroach, like he deserved to be crushed under my heel. “Do you think I waste my time on cum dumpsters like you?”
“Fucking . . . fuck,” he murmured, his eyes widening.
“Silence,” I commanded, pleased when he snapped his jaw shut. “You will speak when I ask you to.”
He grinned and bit his bottom lip, seemingly anticipating whatever I’d make him do next.
“Well?” I gestured to the space between my legs. “You wanted to watch, right? Get your ass over here.”