Cock Blocker (BRRMC Roadhouse Tales 3) - Page 13

“Mom, I don’t need to hear about that.”

“Well, it’s true. Have you met anyone yet? You know it’s not good to deny yourself of sex.”

My mind immediately flashes to Jagger. I’d definitely have sex with him.

“You’re quiet. What’s his name?”

Crash. Clatter. Break. “Ugh. I think Whiskers knocked something over. I’ll call you back.”

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“Bye, Mom.” I end the call and look around for my kitty. I don’t see him. “Mr. Puss, where are you? You want a treat?” I go toward the kitchen where I heard the noise come from. My toes arch against the cold tile flooring. I should have put on socks and pants. “Whiskers,” I hiss. The lights cut out and the fridge ceases it’s humming. “Shit,” I whisper and start feeling around for the junk drawer. I think there was a flashlight in there. I don’t even know where the stupid breaker box is to check if it’s been thrown. Living out here the simplest gust of wind could lean a tree on the line and cause an outage. I open a drawer and poke around. It’s dish towels. I still don’t fully know my way around the kitchen. I only spent a month here in the summers as a kid. Most of that time my father took me fishing or kept me outdoors doing some sort of activity to wear me out.

I search another drawer and find what I’m looking for. I push my palm against the end. No luck. Duh. I hit my forehead with the butt of my hand. I twist the end and the light flickers on. Then it fizzles out just a s quickly. I shake it and take the batteries out having no idea how to put them back in because I can’t see a damn thing. I don’t even know if I have candles. There’s nothing but darkness surrounding me. The house is quiet in an unsettling way.

Abandoning the flashlight, I pad across the cool floor, using the wall as my guide. “Mr. Puss?” I whisper yell. My back flush to the large window of the dining room rubbing against the cool glass, as I slide toward the front entrance. I’ve made it to the foyer where the hall closet is. Spinning around in the darkness I don’t know which way to go. I’ve gotten too far away from the wall. Breath hitching in my throat, my chest shudders. I let out a shaky breath and hand clamps over my mouth, a hard body presses into me.

Eyes bulging, body jerking violently, I let out a sharp cry, “Arggghh.”

“Easy,” a somewhat familiar voice grits in my ear, hot breath fanning along the shell. Tension slowly uncoils from my center. “Shhh…,” the intruder whispers. I turn into who I hope is Jagger. His gloved hand slides down the column of my throat and squeezes.

A quiver works its way through me, my mind shooting right back to the other night on my knees. The smell of the fire, the smoke curling in my nose. The leather glove on my neck’s soft but reminding me of the belt that choked me. I swallow hard desperate for a breath. The words, “now you’ll gag on it, cunt,” play through my head. Knees on the verge of buckling I’m backed against a wall.

Moisture gathers in the creases of my eyes, tears threatening to fall. “What do you want?” I rasp.

“Came to make you gag on it,” he growls. A shiver works through me at the threat. “Bet you want me to choke you while I fuck you stupid.”

“You don’t know anything,” I manage to get out scared that I’ve confused myself and that Choke is here and not Jagger.

“Look how easy it was for me to get in, Patience. How easy it was to cut off your lights and grab you.” A flashlight shines in my eyes, and I get a glimpse of Jagger’s cobalt eyes illuminated in the dark.

“Asshole,” I seethe, shoving against his chest.

His hold on my throat tightens. “Were you scared? Did you even think for a second that it might’ve been Choke?” his warm liquor scented breath dusts my lips. “If it had been him, you’d be dead. That what you want? Didn’t even lock your front door, babe.”

I swallow hard, his hand leaves my throat and crazily I miss his touch the moment it’s gone. “You need to leave.” The light goes out, but I sense him nearby. Smell the musky scent of his cologne mixed with leather and smoke.

“Yeah?” he moves in closer. “I think you want something else. I can smell your arousal, babe.” His other hand moves between my legs cupping my pussy, and I gasp because he’s not wrong. What Choke d

id to me, I hated it. Hated him, but Jagger, there’s something about his touch, like my body senses he only wants to give me pleasure. With Choke it was all about humiliation and control.

His thumb flicks my clit over my white lace briefs. Oh my shit.

Chapter 7

Jagger

I dropped Gus over at Morgan and Outlaw’s. He’s the son of my Vice Prez Striker. His youngest son is only a few grades ahead of Gus, so both boys were thrilled to find out they were getting a sleepover. I want to grab my sister and shake some damn sense into her, but I know I can’t put a time limit on her grief.

She’s loved Denny since we were kids. Held a fake wedding in our backyard for the two of them when she was eight. Our mother thought it was adorable. I remember wanting to barf. Denny was my best friend. The brother I had always wanted. Never thought that years later it’d be a reality. Marcie and him were always inseparable. She was his shadow. When he moved so did she. Yin and yang. Two halves of one whole. The day he died so did she. Maybe not in body, but in spirit.

With my nephew sorted I move forward with my plans for the night. I asked around at The Roadhouse. Few of the whores there said there was an app for people who share the same kinks. I downloaded it and found the profile for Patience easy enough. She wants to be choked. Is into breath play. Even says she has a fantasy about a man taking what he wants. I’ll give her what she wants and more.

Staking out Patience’s house to make sure Choke doesn’t show his ugly mug is number one on my agenda. I clocked her car in town and hung back enough not to be seen and followed her home. I park my cage a few miles down the road, my Harley is too loud. She would hear it coming up the drive. It’s growing dark out, the sun has set, and the moon is creeping behind the clouds. Crickets chirp and frogs croak as my boots snap over some branches in the woods next to the house. The loft in the barn has the perfect vantage of the property including the house. All the lights are on, curtains open. I see her clearly with my binoculars. Patience moves through the house, losing her clothes along the way. When she disappears past the kitchen, I can’t see her.

I give it a few minutes and am about to climb down to move in closer when she reappears in the kitchen. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Patience stands in the kitchen, back to the window above the sink wearing nothing but a tank top and panties. I’m a filthy bastard. Illicit thoughts of yanking those panties down her thighs filters through my mind. I’m no better than fucking Choke except I have no desire to kill her. I simply want to fuck her brains out. Recalling her on her knees, her eyes dancing with fire, my cock twitches in my pants, eager to fill that sexy mouth.

She goes through the motions of feeding her cat and tags a bottle of wine. On the move again, I follow her trail. Collapsing on the couch, she pops the cork and drinks straight from the bottle. I leave the safety of my position and creep along the side of the barn and dart to the house slinking like a damn thief in the night. I test the front door and find it unlocked. Patience didn’t learn her lesson or take my warning about that fucker serious enough.

Tags: Glenna Maynard BRRMC Roadhouse Tales Erotic
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