Page 22 of Mischief Mayhem

“I want you to take the cat-o’-nine-tails to my back,” he went on. “I want you to put clothespins on every part of my body and whip them off. I want you to bite your name into my skin hard enough to leave bruises and ride my face until you can’t stand. Only then am I allowed to fuck you.” He sank his teeth into the shell of my ear, making me gasp and let out a soft desperate moan as goose bumps erupted down that entire side of my body. “God, the thought of it has me so fucking turned on.”

He bucked his hips into my stomach, a thick, decadent bulge proving his point. I almost broke down and agreed.

Then, he stepped back, cold air rushing into the void he’d left, smacking me out of my disillusionment. He put his hand in his back pocket, pulling out something black and lacy while he continued to move backward.

Are those my undies?

“Your move . . . Mistress.” He put the fabric to his nose and inhaled, grinning like a villain as he twisted the door handle and whipped it open. He left me standing there alone and hating him even more.

I didn’t stay much longer after that. I didn’t want to see if Chelsea would try to sink her teeth into him again after I’d warned her not to.

Wheels took me home, and when we got there, he inspected the house before announcing he’d head to bed downstairs, the same room Thor had once occupied.

“You okay, V?” he asked, pausing at the door to the basement.

“Yeah, of course.” I furrowed my brows, confused about his question. “Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “You went after a hang-around. It seems beneath you.”

“I bet she’ll keep her hands to herself from now on.” I flashed him a playful smile, one saying that was all it was.

“Yeah, okay.” Wheels squinted his eyes into a knowing look before pursing his lips and opening the door to downstairs. “Have a nice night, V.”

“You, too.” I waved and wandered down the hallway to my room. But sleep did not come easily that night. After I did a wind-down yoga session and meditated to clear my mind, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, frustrated none of it worked. Hollywood’s words spun in my head like a broken record.

“How wet do you get thinking about me on my knees for you? Does it get your little clit hard to imagine me sucking it?” I brushed my hand down the center of my body, pausing to clutch at the necklace hanging over my heart. “I want you to take the cat-o’-nine-tails to my back. I want you to put clothespins on every part of my body and whip them off.” His voice rattled through my body, and I pushed my hand lower, ducking under my skirt and panties to find my clit. I hissed when I touched the sensitive skin, sucking in a breath that made me throw my head back. “I want you to bite your name into my skin hard enough to leave bruises and ride my face until you can’t stand. Only then am I allowed to fuck you.”

The fantasy it had me rubbing circles into myself. I was already dripping, and the forbidden thought of dominating Hollywood Hudson spurred me on. I should’ve stopped it before it started. I should have pulled my fingers right out of my panties and kept them above waist level.

But I didn’t.

I moaned my way through an orgasm at the thought of his head between my legs and how all these years might have improved his skills. In the aftermath, I panted from the high and wondered if there was any way out of this now or if there ever had been.

I shouldn’t want it. I should continue to shut him down whenever he brought it up. But after that night, there could only be one thing to do.

He’d told me it was my move, and I planned to make it worth my while.

9

HOLLYWOOD

I pretended V going after Chelsea on behalf of my virtue wasn’t the hottest thing I’d ever seen, and honestly, it took work. Like . . . a lot of work. When I’d peeled her off the hang-around, still squirming and cursing, I’d gotten harder than the night before. Yeah, I didn’t like when the girls touched me like they owned me, but hadn’t I earned the reputation? Hadn’t I run through them like a raccoon at the local dump? Hadn’t I taught them to treat my body like a fire sale? Grab what you can. Everything must go, go, go.

“You seem distracted today,” Leo said, holding my arm as he lowered into a lunge, struggling to push back up again. “Not quite as talkative.”

I swallowed and shook my head, knowing I should keep it to myself. As someone that normally bragged about their sexual exploits, whatever this was with V couldn’t get out. Her brothers would kill me. Her father would cut my nuts off and shove them in my mouth before setting me on fire. I’d seen them do worse to enemies for less. Touching the princess, the only daughter of the MC’s president, came with a death sentence, especially for someone with my history.

“What are you thinking about?” Leo raised his eyebrows and did another lunge, grimacing as he bent his injured knee.

There was no one else here, other than the prospects outside, and Leo had made it his SOP not to talk to anyone except for me. I didn’t know why that was, nor did I ask him, but I figured why not take advantage of it? It wasn’t like he knew V or would ever meet her. Even if Leo was an enemy, it might be nice to talk to someone about it, just to get it off my chest.

“There’s a girl,” I admitted.

He chuckled, going into the same exercise on the other side. “What about her?”

“She’s my buddy’s little sister,” I said. “Not like . . . little little. She’s only three years younger than me.”

“Okay.” Leo met my gaze, silently asking me to continue.