“So you’re just here to make a quick buck? Or are you here to suss me out some more?” He demands, towering over me until my back is pressed against the door.
Fuck, he’s onto me.
“Zander, I’m not here to be a bother to you. Santos invited me, so I said I'd show up. That’s it. Why would I need to suss you out?” I laugh lightly, kicking myself for the situation I’m currently in. He’s getting suspicious.
“You don’t think I know what you’re doing? Worming your way into my rich dad’s pocket like you are? You trying to get to know me so you can try some of that step-mommy bullshit with me?” He argues, but his hands absently hang by my side, his fingers lightly brushing against the thin fabric of my dress. My heart rate spikes as his eyes darken, but he gets hold of himself as I clear my throat and push him back a step.
“I’m not a gold digger, and I sure as shit am not looking for a husband, if that’s what you’re implying. It’s strictly business, that’s it. I’m too young to be your fucking mommy anyways,” I say defensively, his features cooling slightly.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-five. I’d prefer to earn my money on my knees, than let someone just pay for my shit. Don’t act like you know me, asshole, because you fucking don’t,” I murmur before slipping away from him. I startle as I walk into the back room and instantly get shoved lightly against a wall.
The guy looks certifiably crazy, but he is hot as fuck. He presses himself against me, his tongue tracing his lips as he watches me with a smirk.
“Hey, Selene, right?”
“Santos?” I ask with a small smile, his eyes shining at me knowing his name.
“That’s me. I was going to get you to blow me while I do lines with the guys, but I don’t particularly want them to see you enjoying me so much. You know, because they’ll get jealous.”
I don’t even get a word out before his lips are on my neck, a gasp leaving me as his teeth bite firmly into my soft skin. I’m starting to second guess my decision to show up. He looks ready to fuck me and kill me at the same time, and I have no idea how to handle that.
I press my palms against his stomach to push him back, but I hesitate as I feel the solid abs beneath the shirt. My fingers trace the grooves of his muscles, and he chuckles in my ear.
“You like what you’re feeling? Wait until I get you naked, you’ll be screaming for me,” he practically whispers in my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
Someone grabs my hand and gently tugs me aside, causing Santos to scowl.
“Darius, fuck off. She’s mine right now.”
Darius rolls his eyes but smiles at me, his voice as smooth as silk as he tucks my hair behind my ear.
“I’m Darius, and you’re fucking hot. Do you allow, let’s say, multiple people in a business transaction?” He asks as if we were swapping pantry goods, my mouth going dry for some reason. Both guys are hot as hell, but there is something off about them too, I just can’t place what it is.
I give him a coy smile, fluttering my lashes at him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just wanted to come to the party since I had a night off.”
He chuckles, his eyes lighting up, knowing I’m full of complete shit.
“How about you join me and Santos upstairs and we will show you how to fucking party then?”
When I don’t answer him instantly, he swoops down and kisses the living shit out of me, and I can’t hold back the moan as he sandwiches me between him and Santos, who groans and rubs the hard bulge in his pants against my ass.
“Fuck, man. Throw her over your shoulder and let’s get this started.”
Someone screams from the other room, and Zander runs in like his ass is on fire.
“Get everyone out, now. Antonio’s guys just fucking showed up!” He shouts, Darius moving back from me instantly and pulling a gun out of the back of his pants, while Santos is already demanding people to fuck off out the back door. They scatter because that fucker is one crazy son of a bitch. Half his words are coming out in Spanish, and he’s waving his own gun around like a crackhead at the local gas station.
A gunshot rings out through the house, and Scar Face storms in with a semi-automatic rifle and rage all over his face. Something tells me the fucker is never happy, even if he has his dick buried in the best pussy in the world, the cunt will still glare at them.
“Fuck me, this bitch is still here? Fine, fuck. Can you shoot?” Scar guy asks me, offering me a handgun without waiting for my answer. I much prefer my knife, but you don’t bring a knife to a gun fight, so it will have to do.
Zander’s glaring at his friend like he's crazy, when the actual crazy friend is jumping up and down while laughing.
“Fuck yeah, all bets are off since he’s brought this shit to my house, motherfuckers,” Santos laughs, his eyes darting around between them all as if he needs permission to let loose.