Chapter One
I sighed as I stared up at the blinking neon sign. This was a part of the city I never ventured into, but right now I didn’t have much of a choice. Rent was due in a few days, and I didn’t have the money to pay my landlord. Not only that, but I was certain he wasn’t going to take any more of my excuses. He’d said that the last time I was late with rent was the last favor he’d ever give me. That pretty much meant that I was out on my ass if I was late again. My electricity and water bills were already past due, too.
Every other place I’d checked into hadn’t wanted to hire a girl like me. One without a resume or any sort of stable work experience. One who couldn’t get a single positive recommendation from any of my previous bosses because I’d pissed off every last one of them. I wasn’t exactly a delicate fucking flower. Fuck them. They were all assholes anyway.
So, here I was. Standing outside The Salty Dog, watching as the lowlifes of New York City wandered through the filthy door that seemed to be at least fifty years old. I stared more closely at the entryway, realizing that the bar’s patrons had carved messages into its wooden surface with knives. I looked harder in the fading light, reading all the carved words, and I wondered if any of those people were still alive today. There were notes of love and hate, but by an overwhelming majority, most of them were messages of lust.
I pulled back my shoulders and quickly adjusted my bra, ensuring that my cleavage was on point just in case anyone was interested in looking. Then I pulled the elastic band from my dark brown hair and shook it out, running my fingers through the long, soft strands.
I needed a job.
I’d been a bartender before and knew what they looked for: pretty, young, and available. I’d be whatever they wanted me to be so that I didn’t end up living on the streets of Brooklyn. I needed the money, and I’d do whatever I had to do to get it.
When I was finally ready, I reached for the door, opened it, and walked inside. As soon as I strolled into the bar, I could feel a number of eyes staring at me.
At my tits.
At the way I swayed my hips back and forth.
At the cherry blossom tattoo peeking out from the low neck of my tank top.
Men outnumbered women here by a fairly wide margin, and that was more than obvious with just a single glance. This was a dive bar at its finest, that was for sure. I’d been here a few times before, so it was vaguely familiar. Mainly with past boyfriends that hadn’t quite worked out for some reason or other. Most of them had said I had an attitude problem. Others I’d threatened with a knife.
Whatever.
I was just more woman than they had expected. No one could handle me.
I took a seat at the bar and watched the scrawny redheaded bartender scramble back and forth to serve whiskey and beer to the men clamoring at the counter. There was a jukebox in the corner playing some Metallica loud enough to be annoying, but soft enough that the conversations screaming all around me could still be heard. There was a small dance floor stuffed in the corner where the few women who had dared venture into this place were grinding on their picks for the night. Cigar smoke swirled around me, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.
Gross.
This was the type of bar where they didn’t follow the rules. Like no smoking in a public establishment.
Or sex.
Cause that was totally happening on top of the pool table right now.
I turned away with a snort. The man next to me cocked his head in my direction, and I could almost feel his eyes on the tops of my breasts. I was wearing a black lacey tank with a rather low-cut sweetheart neckline that made me feel all sorts of sexy, and it had definitely not gone unnoticed the moment I walked in the door. My choice of top had been intentional.
“What brings a pretty little thing like you around these parts?” the man asked, his voice gruff. I sniffed the air, catching a whiff of body odor along with that overwhelmingly fragrant cigar smoke. Classy.
“I’m thirsty,” I answered curtly.
The man wasn’t particularly attractive. His hair was dark blond and stringy, almost as though he hadn’t showered in a week. He smelled like smoke, and when I turned my gaze in his direction, I realized he was the one smoking a cigar. He smiled and revealed a particularly grisly set of yellow crooked teeth. Yeah. A definite catch to bring home to Mom.
I rolled my eyes and looked back at the bartender. He caught my gaze and smirked with a certain sense of arrogant amusement, his stare rolling from me to the man sitting by my side. He chuckled at me, entertained by my misery as I dealt with Smokey the Dirty Bear beside me.
“What are you drinking?” the cigar smoker asked.
“Whiskey. Or bourbon. Not that Fireball shit though. Tastes like ass,” I replied.
My new friend snorted back a laugh and shook his head.
“You’re not like most chicks, are you?” he chuckled.
“Nope. Definitely not,” I answered and leaned back against the chair.
The man crooked a finger at the bartender, and the cocky bastard finally decided to saunter over to serve me and Mr. Cigar Man.
“Two Jack Daniel’s. One for me and one for the pretty lady here,” my overly talkative neighbor ordered. He was rather proud of himself as he did it.
The bartender appraised me with a look far more smug than I expected from a man that looked like him. His nose was too big and covered in freckles, and he was pretty skinny compared to most of the men who frequented a bar like this. One good punch to the center of his nose and a chick like me could take him out with ease.
“Hi there. I’m Kendra,” I began as I held his hazel green eyes with mine. Seemingly unaffected by my perusal of his features, he poured two oversized portions of whiskey that were definitely more than a single shot. He slid one in front of me and the other to the dirty man beside me.
“Richie. Nice to meet you,” he answered, his cool stare still calculating as he tried to assess me.
“I hear you’re looking for an extra bartender,” I started, taking a guess that this man wasn’t only a bartender but the owner of the bar too.
“I am,” he answered.
“I’d like to apply,” I continued.
“I don’t typically employ pretty girls here. Usually, they can’t handle a place like this for very long,” he answered cautiously. His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit. I met his look with as much challenge as I dared.
“These men don’t scare me,” I replied.
“They should,” another voice said to my left.
I turned my head to see who had spoken and found myself gazing up at a massive hunk of a man. Dark mahogany hair hung to his shoulders, thick dreadlocks that were decorated with a number of colored beads. He lifted his head, and the dim light illuminated his dense beard. His eyes appeared to be almost jet black, and I felt myself sucking in a nervous breath of air when they met mine.
For a moment, I forgot all about the bartender and the filthy, cigar-smoking man. The only things that mattered were me and this huge man standing right next to me. Almost touching me. I wondered what it would feel like if he did.
He was fucking massive, standing at maybe six and a half feet tall. Wearing a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans, he leaned against the bar and towered over me. His biceps were thick, unadulterated muscle, and for a second, I found myself thinking about how those arms would feel as they slammed me up against a wall. About how those thick fingers would feel as they slipped between my thighs and rolled over my clit. How a man like him could get me to scream his name with nothing more than a single thrust.
My nipples hardened into tight little peaks, and I was suddenly thankful for the thick pushup bra I’d decided to wear tonight. My panties felt damp, and I shifted in my seat. What the fuck? What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting like this?
“I can handle whatever these men throw at me,” I snorted, doing my best to cover up the rampant arousal that was quickly building inside of me at this man’s simple presence. Fake it ‘till you make it, right? That was my life motto.
“Can you now?” he asked, his tone rather arrogant and nonchalant at the same time.
The more he spoke, the more my body seemed to react to him. I felt myself growing warm, and I squirmed in my seat just a little more than before. He stared at me almost as though he could see right through me, like he knew exactly what was happening to my traitorous little body. He lifted his face a tiny bit as he sniffed the air, and I could have sworn I saw the black pupils in his dark eyes dilate just a hair, almost as though he could sense my inner turmoil.
I felt my cheeks warm with embarrassment. He couldn’t smell my arousal. That wasn’t possible. I told myself that over and over, but for some reason, I didn’t believe it. Taking a deep breath, I rolled my shoulders back in a gesture of confidence and stared him down.
“Fuck, yes, I can,” I finally answered, taking care to layer as much brash confidence into my voice as possible.
“Pretty little girls like you should know their limits,” he warned.
“Overconfident, steroid-abusing pricks like yourself should accept that their tiny little dicks are just going to leave a trail of disappointed and very unsatisfied women for the entirety of their sad little lives,” I countered. I leaned back and cocked an eyebrow in his direction, daring him to challenge me and waiting for him to inevitably back down.
But he didn’t. Instead, my words just made him seem to grow bigger and even more dangerous than before. He chuckled in amusement and turned his massive form completely toward me. Seated before him, the only thing I could feel was his presence all around me. It was both stifling and consuming at the same time. He leaned forward, holding my gaze as his fingers curled around the back of my chair on either side of my shoulders. He’d effectively trapped me with just his body, and I shivered hard as I felt my core clench with unwanted desire.
“Little girls with very wet little pussies should know their place before they tease much bigger men with their sassy little mouths,” he whispered, his voice just loud enough for me to hear. My heart went pitter-patter in my chest, and I almost forgot to breathe.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I countered, but my voice was shaky and unsure.
He grinned and stared me down, leaving little doubt in my mind that he knew I was lying. My stomach fluttered with butterflies, and I told myself once more that he couldn’t know how aroused I was. It wasn’t possible. Human noses just didn’t work like that.
“You think I can’t, but I can smell how very wet you are right now, baby doll,” he answered, his voice still low, and I realized it was doing very strange things to my insides. There was no way. It had to be just a lucky guess. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.
“Does that work on every girl you try to bring home from the bar?” I asked, smirking and trying to hide the fact that I felt more turned on at that moment than I’d ever been in my whole life. Right then, I very much just wanted to fuck him, but I would never admit that. Not for anything. Not for a million fucking dollars.
“Kendra, was it? I’m Alaric,” he replied, purposely ignoring my question. I tried to remain stoic, but I was shaking like a nervous leaf on the inside. I told myself I could handle this, that all I had to do was depend on myself to get out of here. I’d dealt with a number of overconfident men like him before, and if he wasn’t careful, I’d knee him in the balls and ensure he’d never sire a child again.
“Fuck off, Alaric. You couldn’t handle me even if you tried,” I retorted, trying to save face even as my body betrayed me right in front of him.
The fucking man just chuckled.
The bartender cleared his throat. “Keep it out of my bar tonight, Alaric. You broke my damn pool table last time,” the redheaded bar owner said.
Alaric’s grin just grew wider at his words. His eyes never left mine, and I could feel myself warming even more under his dark gaze.
“Fond memories, Richie,” he answered, his voice dropping a note. The bartender just laughed.
“No, seriously. Not in the bar. My insurance expired last week,” the owner added, and Alaric’s smirk lifted even higher than before.
He reached for me and grazed his forefinger under my chin, forcing my face upward just a hair.
“Get your hands off me,” I growled.
“I’m just beginning to put my hands on you, baby doll,” he answered.
Before I had even a moment to react, he grasped me around my waist and hoisted me over his shoulder like I weighed as little as a bag of feathers. The air rushed out of my lungs as my world was turned upside down, and when I finally realized what was happening, he’d already carried me through most of the bar. Men howled and whistled all around me, shouting vulgarities and dirty suggestions his way.
No one had ever manhandled me like this before, and I didn’t quite know what to do. Reacting solely on instinct, I began to kick and punch him in an effort to escape. He laughed even harder, and a sharp pain exploded across the right cheek of my ass.
I stilled. What the hell? What the fuck just happened?
“Keep it up. You’re lucky I don’t bare your sassy little ass and take you over my knee in front of everyone in this bar right now,” he warned.
He’d spanked me. He’d actually fucking spanked me.
Fuck that. This was too much. I couldn’t allow any man to treat me like this.
I started struggling again, but it didn’t appear to do any good. He was incredibly big and strong, and he looked rough and dangerous enough that not a single man bothered him as he stalked toward the back alley exit. Thrown over his shoulder like this, I didn’t stand a chance. I’d have to wait until my own two feet were back on the ground, then I’d make my move. I was going to knee him in the balls so hard that they were going to retract straight up into his ribcage and never come down, dammit.
“Give it to her good, Alaric!” Richie yelled from behind the bar, and I could feel myself blushing with embarrassment. Bastard. Working for him now wouldn’t work out. Having him as a boss would simply be out of the question.
No one was going to save me. No one was even going to call the police. This wasn’t that kind of bar. I was left with no choice but to save myself.
Alaric sauntered out into the back alley. Once the back door to the bar swung closed, there was an eerie silence that was only broken by distant car horns and squealing tires. He hefted me back down to the ground, pressing me back against the brick wall of the building we’d just come out of. His massive form surrounded mine, and I reached back and slapped him hard across the face. The sound of my palm hitting his cheek echoed loudly around us, and for a moment, time stood still as we stared into each other’s eyes.
His were a dark blue that reminded me of the deep water of the Mediterranean, like tiny little sparkling gemstones rimmed with a darker ring, and I lost myself in them for a moment before I remembered myself.
“How dare you?” I snarled, staring up at him with fury. My hand tingled from the sting of smacking him as hard as I had. I uncurled my fingers and straightened them, trying to urge the pain away, but it didn’t really work.
For a moment, he looked taken aback at my boldness, but his expression darkened with what appeared to be very dangerous arousal. A soft purring growl swirled around me, and I felt my knees go weak, my pussy grow wetter, and my nipples get even harder.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not like this.
“I think you want me to punish you, don’t you, baby doll?” he murmured, and the air rushed out of my lungs. His fingers caressed my throat, lightly skimming across my skin and setting fire to every nerve he touched. Those same fingers moved to pet my scalp before tightening into a fist at the back of my head. He pulled my hair firmly, and I gasped in surprise, but my pussy clenched hard, and even more liquid heat gathered between my thighs. A bright flash of pain blossomed underneath his rough grasp, and I cried out at its intensity. At least at first. Within several moments though, the pain transformed into something else, and I realized with increasing horror that it was desire, and that my cry now sounded much more like a moan of very obvious pleasure instead of pain.
His lips descended onto mine, kissing me gently at first before deepening into something more painful and aggressive. In the beginning, I fought him and tried not to give into the kiss, but then I realized my stupid lips were kissing him back without my permission. For a little while, I allowed myself to succumb to the rampant arousal pumping through my veins, but I realized what I was doing and pulled myself back. I tried to forget about my throbbing clit and attempted to think with my head instead of my needy little pussy.
Think, Kendra. How are you going to get out of this? For a second, I felt lost, but then I figured out what to do.
I bit his lip. Hard.
I expected him to pull back, to decide that I wasn’t worth the time or energy to deal with, that he’d leave me alone after I’d hit him and bit him in less than two minutes. Instead, he did something entirely unexpected. He bit me back hard; it hurt enough to make me pause formulating the next step in my escape.
A whimper escaped the back of my throat as my lower lip throbbed with pain. His teeth scraped against the spot he’d bitten, reigniting the hurt and reminding me that right now, he was very much in charge and I wasn’t. He kissed me gently once more and pulled back, his dark eyes staring down into mine.
“Little girls who bite end up getting bitten in places much more sensitive than their sassy mouths,” he warned, and I shivered with need. My pussy tightened with desire, and I panted for air, trying to quell the incredible longing that was surging through my veins.
This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t natural. Something was really wrong, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I’d never felt like this. I could feel myself losing control, and I didn’t like it. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. I wanted it. I didn’t want it. I was a confused mess of need as he towered over me, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
My lip throbbed where he’d bitten it, and I imagined his lips all over my body, grazing across my throat, over my breasts, and in between my thighs. My pussy clenched hard as I thought about how it would feel to come all over his tongue. I flushed with shame at the filthy direction my thoughts were taking and tried to push them away.
Fuck.
Calm down, Kendra. What are you, a teenage schoolboy? Control yourself. Stop thinking with your pussy and get it fucking together.
Think with your head. Don’t think about how much you want to jump on his cock and ride him until the sun rises. Don’t think about how much you want to come right now. Don’t think about how much you want to spend the night in his bed. Don’t think about his hands all over your naked body, before he thrusts into you and makes you scream his name…
I suddenly found it very difficult to breathe.
My eyes lifted to his dark blue ones, searching his gaze for any indication of what his intentions might be. He was a perfect stranger, and I only knew his first name. I didn’t know where he came from or what he did for a living or why he was even at this bar tonight in the first place. I didn’t know why he’d taken an interest in me either. I didn’t know if he was about to tear my clothes from my body and fuck me in this dark alley, or whether I wanted it or not. I didn’t even know if I was going to like it.
“What do you want with me?” My voice was hardly above a whisper.
“Everything,” he answered softly, before using his body to pin me against the wall. I grew nervous and tried to kick my knee up between his legs, but he angled his hips and used his massive form to limit my movements. I wasn’t even able to graze him. I was helpless. He was so much bigger than me, and all of my usual tricks were failing me.
His right palm snaked up around my throat and tightened, cutting off the flow of air into my lungs. My body pulsed with heat at being treated so roughly. He stared down at me, clear warning in his gaze, and I finally stopped fighting him. Outmaneuvering his strength when he held me captive like this was not going to work. I’d have to play it smart if I wanted to figure out a way out of this, if that’s what I still wanted.
Honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. The haze of arousal was pulling me in too deep, and I couldn’t find my way to the surface. The passionate heat swirling through me was quickly taking over, and I didn’t know up from down or left from right anymore.
His lips descended back down to mine, his kiss sweet yet harsh in the same breath. My heart pulsed and my body heated. I was so very wet. No man had ever made me this aroused before, and I couldn’t even begin to understand it.
He claimed my mouth as though he owned it, taking my breath and stealing it as his own as his tongue swirled around mine. My lips throbbed with his kiss, and I couldn’t help myself as I returned it. His palm squeezed just a little tighter around my throat, and I felt my body curling toward him. I could feel his hard cock against my belly, and I knew then that it wasn’t small at all. It was big, and if he fucked me with it like I wanted him to right now, it was going to hurt. My inner walls fluttered, anticipating what that massive shaft would feel like pumping in and out between my thighs, and I lost all rational thought.
When he finally pulled away from that kiss, I was left panting and on fire. There was no fight in me left when he released my throat, spun me around, and landed several hard smacks over the jeans that covered my ass. I cried out in surprise, but he pressed my chest against the wall with his body. My breasts grazed the concrete, and I was once again thankful for the padded bra I was wearing underneath my shirt.
“You’ve never been spanked before, have you?” he asked.
“No one has ever dared,” I finally managed to whisper.
“Good. Because there’s going to be much more to come for your bare little ass once I get you up to my room and over my knee, baby doll,” he growled, and my pussy clenched hard at his threat. For a second, I imagined myself naked as he guided me over his thighs, and a rush of liquid heat gathered between my legs at the thought.
Then I remembered myself.
No one messed with me. I fucked with them. He wasn’t going to master me by taking me and spanking me like a naughty little girl. Not tonight. Not fucking ever.
I spun around, lifted my leg, and snaked it around his hip. I slid my hand down my leg to my ankle and swiftly unholstered the switchblade I always carried with me, no matter where I went. A girl needed protection, and right now, I was thankful for my diligence. I pretended that I’d lost myself, unashamedly rocking my hips against him in order to cover up my movements. As good as it felt, I needed to get out of here and fast before I ended up naked in his bed, or even worse—bare over his knee, getting my bottom smacked.
The thought gave me pause, but then I lifted my arms up around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. Carefully, I engaged the release mechanism on my blade, and it swung open.
Then, I made my move.
With a certain practiced deftness, I flicked my wrist and pressed the edge of the knife against his throat. I snarled, waiting for him to realize that he’d been outmatched. That I’d won and he’d lost. He stilled, edging back just a little to break the kiss I’d tricked him into.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarled.
The bastard laughed, the sound loud, hearty, and incredibly unnerving. I didn’t quite know how to respond. I hadn’t expected that.
“I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to fuck that pretty little bottom of yours tonight, but you just made that decision for me,” he countered, his voice lowering with dark and seductive promise. My stomach dropped at his words.
I’d never been fucked back there, and I wasn’t about to let him be the first. Not only would it hurt, I guessed, but it was too shameful to even think about.
“The last man that tried to carry me off from this alley bled to death before he could even put his hands on me,” I lied. I needed him to be afraid of me. I needed him to let me go. With a bit more viciousness, I pressed the blade more harshly against his neck. He grunted slightly, and I could see just the smallest drop of blood forming against the edge of my knife.
A flash of delight raced through me at the sight. I could win this. I might be half his size, but I was smart, and I would use that against him.
I wasn’t ignorant with a blade. In fact, I was pretty fucking good with one. Living in this city had taught me that being soft was as good as painting a target on your back. I’d trained myself, learning how to fight from watching old street hustlers and mimicking moves from late-night martial arts flicks. The number of times men had tried to rob me or do worse was too high to count. I’d never killed anyone, but I’d come damn close.
One night, in a dimly lit alley reeking of piss and damp concrete, a man had grabbed me from behind, yanking me against his chest. His breath was hot on my neck, his intention more than clear. I’d been panicked, but reacted on pure instinct. My hand had shot to the switchblade in my boot. As his fingers had tightened on my arm, I’d turned and struck, the blade slicing across his throat. It wasn’t deep enough to kill—more of a warning, but the thin line of blood blooming against his skin sent him staggering back, cursing all the while. That was all I’d needed to get out of there. I ran like hell, heart pounding, and never looked back.
The details of that fight replayed in my mind, sharp as broken glass. His eyes wide with shock as he felt the blade graze his skin. The metallic smell of blood mixing with the stench of the alley. The way my pulse roared in my ears, drowning out the sound of his threats as he stumbled away clutching his neck. I remember the weight of the knife in my hand and the surge of relief when I realized I still had it.
Just like I felt right now.
Alaric moved unexpectedly, ducking and maneuvering out of the way of my blade. His sudden move caught me off guard, and I reacted instinctively to defend myself. I swung my arm around and leaned forward, using my strength and momentum to stab downward to his waist. I aimed for a place right above his hip on his lower back, where I knew his kidney would be located. I brought my arm down hard and expected the sharp blade to slide right into his flesh, but something beneath his t-shirt stopped the knife dead in its tracks. I’d used all of my strength, and it had done nothing.
It hadn’t even touched him. Not even a scratch.
I growled with anger as he grabbed my wrists. He wrenched my hand backwards and the knife fell from my fingers. He caught it with his other hand and swiftly tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans.
“You’re an impressive little warrior,” he mused, staring down at me with a smirk. “I’m going to enjoy making you scream my name as my cock fucks that tight little pussy good and hard, just like it deserves.”
I gasped in shock as his fingers brushed against my leg and dragged up my jeans to caress between my thighs, circling his thumb directly over the very needy bud hidden beneath layers of fabric. My hips rose up to meet his touch, despite everything in me that tried to stop them.
“You’re not going to break me,” I challenged him, and he chuckled in response.
“Before the night is over, baby doll, you’re going to beg me to take you in ways so shameful that you’ll blush for days just thinking about them,” he whispered in my ear.
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