Wretched (Never After Series)
Wretched: Chapter 2

There’s blood on my shoe.

Damn it.

I squint down at the worn black pleather of my heeled boot, my stomach tensing with irritation that I have to spend the rest of the night in this shitty club with parts of a dead man soaking into my foot.

Hope that doesn’t mean he’ll come back to haunt me.

“What’s up, grump?” my best friend—my only friend—Cody asks, grinning wide as he rests on the bar next to me.

I snap my gaze up, bringing my hand to my chest and raising my brows. “I’m not grumpy.”

His blond hair bounces as he throws his head back, a bubbly laugh pouring from his mouth. “You’re one hundred percent a pessimist.”

I glance at the people crowding in behind him for a drink and shrug. “I’m a realist. There’s a difference.”

“Well, you’re being fucking boring.” He rolls his eyes. “This is what you dragged me out for? I thought with that fake hair, you’d loosen up a little. Blondes are supposed to have more fun.”

I grit my teeth, drumming my almond-shaped nails on the wood bar top, the black manicure I gave myself mirroring my mood. The only reason I’m even here in Chicago is because I’ve been tasked with the unfortunate duty of tracking down some nobody idiot who needs to be taught a lesson. The blonde wig glued to my head and colored contacts are just insurance. Not for fun.

“Want a shot?” he tries again, wiggling his brows that are half-hidden by his glasses.

“I don’t drink.”

The words come out harsher than I intended, but I have a headache growing between my eyes and a temper that’s been fraying since this morning when some asshole interrupted me while I was working.

I peek down at the dried blood again.

He frowns. “Since when?”

Sighing, I run a hand over the thick hair, the bleached-blonde strands falling across my shoulder. “Since forever, Cody, I don’t know. Christ, are you planning to give me the tenth degree the entire time? I just wanted to help you get out of your mom’s house.” I shrug. “Live a little instead of spending all your time staring at computer screens.”

He blinks at me.

“Fine,” he finally breathes out. “I’m gonna go dance. Find me a nice fat dick to ride.”

My smile cracks for the first time all night, and he winks. “After you’re done with whatever you really came here for, you should do the same. Maybe a good fuck will make you lose that giant stick up your ass.”

Waving him off, I spin around, my stomach clenching as the bartender walks toward me and smiles.

“Want something to drink yet?” he asks.

“I’m not sure what I want.” I force a sly grin, peering at him through my lashes.

His blue eyes spark. “No favorites?”

I mimic his movements, making sure the top of my cleavage is pushed up from where I have it pressed against the bar, giving him a good view. “I’m not really into drinking, you know? I think I’d rather… fly.”

His gaze drops from my eyes to the swell of my chest, and I bite back the disgust at how predictable he is. Honestly, I’m not even that attractive. Not compared to my sister’s delicate facial features, but throw a pair of tits in a man’s face and all the blood rushes to their dick instead of their brains.

He licks his lips.

“I just like to have a good time…” I cock my head, drumming my long nails on the bar top. “Don’t you?”

He slings an off-white cloth over his shoulder and places his elbow on the edge of the bar.

“Andrew!” a voice yells. His attention snaps to a server who’s standing with an empty tray and an annoyed look on her face. “Dude, can I get my drinks?”

Grimacing, he looks back at me, tapping the bar top with his knuckles. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ve got just the thing for you.”

The second his back is turned, I let the facade drop, picking up a coaster and twirling it around in my hand, trying to keep from asking for soda water and a napkin so I can scrub the stain from the toe of my shoe.

It’s not noticeable, but it’s bothering me.

“You’re trying too hard.”

My head snaps up and I lock my gaze on a strong jawline and bright-green eyes. I quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”

The man grins, dimples framing his pouty lips as he takes a sip of his beer and props himself against the bar.

I scoff, irritated that this guy decided to annoy me and even more irritated that he’s attractive enough to make my stomach clench. “Who says I’m trying?”

His throat bobs and he steps closer, sending a whiff of cinnamon into my nose as he runs his hand through his short and slightly curly brown locks. My eyes track the movement, then move farther down his black leather jacket and dark jeans.

“You can practice on me if you want,” he continues, nodding toward the bartender. “Before he gets back.”

I tilt my head, trying to figure out if he’s hitting on me or making fun of me. “Wow, what an offer.”

He shrugs. “I’m in a giving mood.”

Normally, I wouldn’t react well to someone getting in my space. But this guy intrigues me. Plus, he’s hot, and quite frankly, I’m horny. It’s hard to replace someone I can tolerate long enough to let them get me off.

Reaching out my hand, I grab the beer from his fingers, bringing it to my mouth and taking a small sip. I hide the cringe from the taste, running my tongue along my lips as I swallow. It feels weird without the piercing that’s usually there, but identifiable things like tongue rings aren’t great for maintaining anonymity.

And I wasn’t lying earlier. I’m not a drinker.

“Well, that’s good news.” I slide from the stool and move forward until my chest grazes his torso. His breath hitches as I rise up slightly, my lips ghosting across his jaw. “Because I’m a taker.”

His eyes flare as I back away and that perfect smile blooms on his face. “You’re interesting.”

“And you’re annoying,” I reply.

He chuckles.

My chest tightens and I bite my lip to hide the grin wanting to escape, shaking my head.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

I peek at him. “Why?”

“It’s only natural. Guy sees an attractive woman at the bar, wants to get to know her better.” He sticks his hand out. “I’m Nick.”

Crossing my arms, I look down at his palm. “How do I know you’re not trying to replace out my name so you can stalk me?”

“That’s pretty arrogant.”

“Is it? I mean, you’re here in a club, all alone, hitting on random women and asking their names. Haven’t you ever seen Dateline, Nicholas?”

He points toward the dance floor. “I’m not here alone. And it’s Nick.”

My eyes follow where he’s pointing toward an attractive guy dancing up against a random woman in the middle of the floor.

“That’s my friend, Seth. I got put on a new job today that’s taking me out of town, so we’re ‘celebrating’ one last time.”

“I’d probably celebrate too if you were leaving.”

Laughing, he takes another sip of his drink, exactly on the same spot I did earlier, his tongue peeking out and running over his lips, not dropping my stare for a single second. My insides tighten, heat flooding between my legs.

It’s obnoxious how much he’s affecting me.

“Listen, I don’t have time for”—I wave my arm between us—“whatever this is. So either get to the point or go replace someone else. I’m sure there are plenty of desperate women willing to give up their personal information so you can peek in their windows.”

He sets down his glass and glances past me before stepping forward and bending down, his lips impossibly close to my cheek. I suck in a breath, my heart ramping up in my chest.

“I don’t want to stalk you, pretty girl.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “I want to fuck you.”

Oh.

Something hot and wicked swirls through my middle. This guy is dangerous. A distraction—one I can’t afford. Although… I peek over at Andrew, the bartender, realizing there are at least a couple hours before he gets off work. A little bit of fun wouldn’t hurt, and why shouldn’t I reward myself? Besides, I’m not used to being the center of attention. Usually, I hide in dark corners, trying my best to blend in with the shadows. This change of pace is kind of nice, in an unexpected way.

“Well…” I tap the bar with my fingertips, feeling the burn of Nicholas’s stare as it trails down my body. “This has been fun, but I’ve got to use the ladies. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t follow me, stalker.”

He purses his lips like he’s holding back a grin and tips his head.

Honestly, I expect him to follow anyway, but as I make my way through the dance floor and down the narrow halls, pushing past a dozen sticky, sweaty bodies, he’s nowhere to be found.

It’s better this way.

I pull open the door to the ladies’ room and step inside. It’s a small bathroom, with black and white subway tile on the walls and only two toilets. I walk over, peeking underneath both stalls to make sure there’s no one else in here before heading to the sink and resting my arms against the edge, blowing out a deep breath.

The door swings open and then shuts, making my heart shoot to my throat and my defenses spike, a lock clicking into place. I spin, excitement squeezing my middle as I meet Nicholas’s stare, his eyes dark as he strides toward me. He tilts his head, taking off his black leather jacket and tossing it on the sink’s counter. I step back until I’m flush against the grungy tile of the bathroom wall, but he continues until his body is pressed against mine, a thrill racing through my insides.

“I knew you’d follow me.” I roll my eyes. “Predictable.”

His hand reaches around and threads through the strands of my hair, tightening as he pulls, forcing my eyes to meet his as my neck stretches back.

Jesus.

My heart speeds, hoping like hell the glue I used will keep the wig in place.

“Turns out… I don’t know what’s good for me,” he says.

And then he bends down and kisses me.

I moan, my hands flying to the back of his head as his tongue dives into my mouth, tangling with mine. He tastes sweet and spicy, and I let myself get lost in the moment. I’ll never see this guy again, but I’m hopeful he lives up to his bravado and can at least give me an orgasm before he disappears.

His hands come down to my thighs, lifting me up, and he presses himself into me until every single inch is nestled between my legs. He thrusts and I whimper into his mouth.

So glad I left my gun in the car. That would be awkward to explain.

Locking my ankles together behind his back, I move my hips, grinding against him.

“Fuck,” he curses, breaking away to trail his lips along the column of my neck.

Wetness leaks from me, and I arch my back until my head hits the wall, giving him more room to work.

“You gonna give me your name yet?” he rasps.

“No.”

Reaching down, I pop the button on the top of his jeans, slipping my hand inside and grasping his dick, my stomach tensing when I realize just how big he really is.

He drops my legs, backing up slightly and pulling out a condom from his pocket. I snatch it from him, dropping to my knees and grabbing the waistband of his pants, lowering them just enough so I can reach through his boxers and pull his cock out. The head is dripping with his precum, and I lean in, licking up the salty liquid, moaning when it hits my tongue. It tastes good, and I decide I need to have more, so I put my mouth over him and slide it down, letting him hit the back of my throat.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his palm slapping against the wall.

I bob my head a few times, sliding my tongue along the thick vein running up his shaft, then letting him slip out of me with a pop, moving back and ripping open the condom package with my teeth. I place it on him, his stare burning into the top of my head as I do.

His hands grip my shoulders, lifting me up aggressively, and before I can even blink, he’s got my skirt up and my panties pushed to the side. “I need to be inside you.”

He hoists my legs back around him, and with one solid thrust, he’s there.

So deep.

He starts a quick and punishing pace, and my eyes roll back in my head because I don’t think anyone has ever fucked me like this. Quick and dirty and like he doesn’t want anything else but me.

That thought combined with the way he’s filling me up makes my orgasm climb quickly, my clit swelling as tension coils tight in my abdomen.

“Oh, god,” I murmur, my head cracking against the wall. “I love your cock.”

He chuckles, pressing into me harder, his grip on my thighs almost bruising with how tight they squeeze. “Show me,” he says, sucking my earlobe between his teeth and biting down. “Show me how much you love my cock.”

His words are the last thing I need, and I explode, bright lights blinding my vision, my nails digging into his shoulders as he continues to fuck me through the pleasure.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Give it to me.”

A few more thrusts and he pushes in deep until his hips press against mine, his low groans vibrating through every bone in my body as his dick jerks wildly.

Slowly, I come back down to Earth and realize what just happened and where I am.

What I’m supposed to be doing.

He drops my trembling legs, running the pads of his fingers up my thighs and gripping my sides as he presses his forehead to mine. “Tell me your name,” he whispers.

I don’t, choosing to push him away. Hunching over to grab my clothes, I get dressed, my limbs still shaky from the way he just fucked me.

Definitely the best I’ve ever had.

Suddenly, the air feels stifling, and I need to leave. Now.

I don’t like the way he makes me feel. Because I want to give him my name. I want to ask about where he’s going and who his friends are, and… that isn’t how I work.

That isn’t how I function.

So instead, I turn back, the walls feeling like they’re closing in around me. Walking up to him, I slide my fingers around his neck and rise up on my toes, leaving a soft kiss on his swollen lips.

His eyes darken.

Then I walk out of the restroom, moving as quickly as possible to make sure he won’t follow.

He doesn’t.

And when I shoot a bullet into the neck of Andrew the bartender three hours later in the back alley, watching his blood douse the cracked pavement while he drops to his knees… all I can think of is how I wish I could have given Nicholas my name.