“She’s like, what, their keeper or something?”

The bartender’s face hardened. “You ask a lot of questions.” He leaned his elbows on the bar and peered over it, his gaze sliding down to Mitch’s crotch. “I can think of one or two who might go for what you got in there.”

“How much?” Mitch asked, his heart pounding but his voice steady.

“Depends on what you’re after.”

“Just some company.”

The bartender laughed. “Yeah, and my dick don’t get hard watching those girls up there either. You gotta spell it out, or no deal.”

“All right, I want to fuck, but not back there in some corner. I want to take my time.”

“It’s here or nowhere.”

“I’ll pay for a room. There’s plenty of rent-by-the-hour places around here.”

“No deal. The girls don’t leave this place.”

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Justice Served

Mitch watched the guy’s eyes, trying to judge how far to push.

“Five hundred for an hour.”

The bartender shook his head. “You get a room in the back. Take it or leave it.”

“I want Irina.” Mitch hadn’t seen her so far that night, but somehow he sensed that she was the key. She was the constant. He was praying that she would remember him and still be interested.

“You must have a lot in those jeans, boy.”

“It’s not how much you got, it’s how much you do with it.”

The bartender stared at Mitch impassively for a long moment, then cracked a smile and Þ nally laughed out loud. “Yeah, and you got the balls too. I’ll see what I can do, but it’s not gonna be tonight.”

He tilted his chin toward the stage. “Those are new girls. Irina always keeps close tabs on them when they Þ rst start working. She won’t hang around tonight.”

“Let me talk to her. Maybe tomorrow night.”

“You must have a hard-on that won’t quit.” The bartender laughed again. “But then, yours never does, does it.”

Surprisingly, he sounded just a bit jealous.

“Working around here, I’m surprised yours ever lets up either,”

Mitch said.

“Ah, you get used to it after a while.” He sighed. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay? But you’re gonna have to keep it in your pants for tonight.”

Mitch dropped his hand between his thighs and squeezed. “It’ll be a challenge.”

“Big balls, boy, big balls,” the bartender muttered as he walked away.

v

Mitch stopped with the bottle halfway to his lips as a hand came around his middle from behind and dropped into his crotch.

He registered the unmistakable press of breasts against his back and the brush of warm lips over his right ear. Unprepared for the sudden onslaught of sensation, he forced himself not to shudder.

“Greg said you wanted to talk to me,” the silky, accented voice he remembered murmured.

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“Not just talk,” Mitch replied, covering the hand that cupped him and squeezing her Þ ngers around the fullness in his jeans. The Þ rst time she’d touched him like this, he’d been just as unprepared and far less used to the sensation of packing. She’d made him hot, made him hard, and he’d been frightened by his inability to control his arousal. This time, he was aware of the undeniable pleasure of the pressure, but it was manageable. “Did Greg tell you about that?”

She kissed his neck, twining her other arm around his middle, keeping up the subtle rhythmic, rocking motion of her hand between his legs. “He mentioned you might have something for me.”

“You know I do,” Mitch said, shifting her hand away and spinning on the stool until he faced her. He spread his legs, cupped her rear in his hands, and pulled her into the vee of his crotch. Her pelvis bumped against his cock, and his stomach tightened. He ignored the thrum of pleasure in his belly. “Hi.”

“What is it that you want, new boy?”

Mitch shook his head. “It’s all about what you want.”

She curled one arm around his neck, her breasts against his chest.

“That is not how men treat sex.”

“I’m an unusual guy.”

She smiled, a smile of true pleasure, and trailed her Þ ngers over his jaw. “You are not like the others. I like that.”

He judged her to be in her early twenties, dark-haired, blue-eyed, pale pale skin. Eastern European, Russian perhaps. Her accent placed her somewhere there. Her body was lush where Sandy’s was slender, her breasts fuller and heavier beneath a strapless top that came to just above her nipples. Her buttocks tightened beneath his palms as she rubbed herself back and forth over him.

“But you are still a guy.” She laughed. “I can tell.”

“Can we go somewhere?” he asked, surprised to hear himself sound breathless.

“You are ready so soon?” Smiling, she looked down at his jeans and pressed her hand over the bulge in his crotch. “But you’re always ready, no?”

“Sometimes a lot more than others.” He grinned and edged back as subtly as he could, because the stimulation was starting to cloud his mind. “Right now would be one of those times. Please, can we go somewhere…private?”

• 228 •

Justice Served

She appeared thoughtful, as if considering his words, then surprised him by leaning forward and kissing him softly on the lips.

“Anyone else, I would make them wait. Perhaps forever. You let me decide, and I like that too. I think I might like to see just how different you are.” She kissed him again, a slow slide of lips, her Þ ngers stroking his neck. “But not tonight.”

“When?” Mitch knew he sounded eager, and he didn’t mind. He wanted her to think he couldn’t wait.

“Tomorrow. Come tomorrow, and we’ll see.”

She started to move away, and Mitch caught her hand. He turned her back into him, not forcefully, but hard enough that she ended up pressed to his groin again. He circled his hand in the hollow at the base of her spine, moving her against him. “Let me take you somewhere alone. You shouldn’t be doing guys up against a wall in the dark. I want to see your face when you come.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and he saw her nipples harden beneath the skintight top. He held his breath as she ran her Þ ngertip over his mouth.

“What makes you think you can make me come?”

Mitch smiled. “I see what you need in your eyes.”

“We’ll see, new boy,” she murmured, stepping free of his embrace.

“We’ll see.”

v

“Do you want to tell me what that was about?” Jasmine hissed as Mitch settled beside her.

“I think I’m onto something.”

“I thought she was going to be onto something in a second. Are you crazy? The guys who run these girls aren’t going to like you fooling around with their merchandise.”

“She’s not merchandise,” Mitch said in a low, Þ erce whisper.

“She’s their caretaker.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s in charge of all these girls, and I think there’s a lot more to it than just what tricks they might turn.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I think I know how it all ties together.”

• 229 •

• 230 •

Justice Served

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Sunday, Dawn

Sandy, honey,” Mitch whispered, sliding under the thin blanket and curving an arm around his sleeping girlfriend’s waist as he settled behind her in bed. He was still dressed, having kicked off his boots and shed his motorcycle jacket at the door. She just looked so soft and warm, her arms curled around the pillow, her face so innocent, that he couldn’t resist holding her for a second. “Gotta wake up, San.”

“Mmm,” Sandy sighed, scooting her butt back into the curve of Mitch’s groin.

“Honey, there’s going to be a meeting at seven. Wake up, honey.”

Mitch nuzzled the back of her neck and kissed the smooth skin along the angle of her shoulder. She smelled of sleep and cinnamon, a distinctly Sandy smell that always turned him on. Without even thinking, he slipped his hand beneath the camisole she’d worn to bed and Þ ngered the silver stud in her navel, twisting and tugging it lightly.

This time, Sandy’s sigh ended on a moan.

Mitch abandoned her belly for her breast, fondling her softly. He felt her breathing escalate and knew she was awakening. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, baby.” Sandy reached behind her and wrapped an arm around Mitch’s hips, pulling him closer as she backed harder against his body.

The sudden pressure against the hardness in his jeans made Mitch’s head light.

“Oh man, you feel so good,” Mitch muttered, his voice as thick and tight as the growing weight in his belly. He’d been a little bit hard, a little bit wet, all night. He’d kept the lid Þ rmly on his arousal, even when Irina had played with him, but he had no defenses against Sandy.

Any time she looked at him, any time she touched him, he was gone.

He smoothed his hand down her belly and beneath the ß imsy material between her thighs, cupping her sex as he rubbed his cock against her slowly undulating ass.

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RADCLY fFE

“You need something, baby?” Sandy whispered, her voice sounding as urgent as Mitch’s.

“Oh yeah.” She was wet beneath his Þ ngertips, and he slicked her arousal back and forth over her clitoris, the stroke of his hand matching the slow thrust of his hips. He wasn’t going to be able to take too much more of the constant friction on the screaming nerve endings between his thighs. His stomach was so tight it threatened to cramp, and his legs trembled as the muscles twitched and spasmed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face against Sandy’s hair, his mouth hot against her ear. “I wanna come so bad.”

“Mmm, I know you do,” Sandy panted, writhing in his arms as he worked her faster. “Stop that, baby. You’ll make me come.” She covered his hand, pressing his palm onto her clitoris and his Þ ngertips just inside her. Holding him there, she ordered breathlessly, “Take your cock out, baby. Let me feel it between my legs.”

Mitch ripped at his jeans with his free hand, the blood roaring through his head, his nerve endings on Þ re. He dragged the cock out of his pants, catching the length of it in his ß y, jerking it free. Groaning desperately as the manipulation threatened to send him over the edge.

He’d never felt anything like it in his life. “Fuck, I think I’m gonna come.”

Sandy laughed wildly, rocking on his palm. “Just take a breath.

Just hold on, baby. It gets better.”

“Trying,” Mitch nearly whimpered. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and concentrated on his breathing and not on that terrible sweet ache between his thighs.

“You okay, baby?” Sandy stroked his arm as it lay across her belly.

“Better. Yeah, I’m okay. Okay.”

She turned partway away, drawing one leg up to open herself. “Let me feel you, Dell.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Mitchell confessed, quivering against Sandy’s back. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“Just ease it between my legs,” Sandy murmured. “You won’t hurt me. I want you, Dell.”

Mitchell Þ sted her cock and eased the head along the cleft between Sandy’s thighs. Suddenly, everything was about Sandy, and the urgency in Mitchell’s depths subsided even as excitement pierced her core like

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Justice Served

the shaft of an arrow. She felt Sandy reach beneath her body and back between her thighs, guiding Mitchell’s cock against her clitoris.

“Oh yeah,” Sandy crooned. “Just right there, Dell. Just rock it there, baby.”

“Turn all the way over,” Mitchell said hoarsely. As Sandy complied, she got onto her knees behind her and guided Sandy’s hips back against her crotch, her cock coming to rest once more between Sandy’s thighs.

“Is it good? Can you feel me?”

Sandy clutched the sheets and pushed her hips back and forth along the length of Mitchell’s cock. “I’m so wet. Oh, baby, you feel so good.”

Mitchell held Sandy’s hips to steady her while Sandy rode her cock, knowing that Sandy was rubbing her clitoris against the Þ rm head at the end of each stroke.

Feeling Sandy tremble, hearing her soft moans, all the while looking down to see the length of her cock moving in and out between Sandy’s thighs, Mitchell sensed her own orgasm rebuilding. Groaning, she picked up speed, unable to stop the escalating tendrils of release slipping down her thighs. “Sandy, honey, I’m not gonna last.”

Breathless, Sandy pulled away and turned onto her back. Her face was ß ushed, her belly heaving. “Do you boys carry safes?”

“Oh Jesus,” Mitchell groaned, stricken. She was so close to exploding, she could hardly think. “Do I need one?”

“No, but you might like it.” Sandy laughed and reached for the bedside dresser, fumbled inside, and came up with a foil package.