Caught Up (Into Darkness Trilogy)

by Navessa Allen

Just once, I wished someone else would make a goddamn decision so I didn’t have to think so fucking much all the time.

This spring had passed in a blur, kicked off by an accidental homicide that my idiot cousin, Aly, and her boyfriend committed.

I’d spent nearly a decade keeping my distance from Lauren, and god help anyone who tried to get between us this time.

Lauren was so determined to secure rights for sex workers because she was one herself. And I was her number one fan. Just beneath her creator profile was a small button that allowed you to request a custom video from her. I tapped it and then sent my latest request, along with a message. Good job with Blackwell today. I’m proud of you. Now show me how proud you are of yourself, Lauren.

I’d learned all her sounds, studied the way she made herself climax. It might have seemed obsessive, but it wasn’t; it was strategic. One day, I would use everything I’d learned against her, make her come faster than anyone else had, convince her that my hands and my tongue and my dick were made to get her off. I wanted her to crave me, need me. Was it manipulative? All kinds of messed up? Absolutely. I didn’t give a single, solitary fuck.

If hell had orgies, his cologne was what they smelled like: dark, smoky, with a seductive hint of spiced musk and the subtle tang of sadism.

What was it about a guy kitted out in motorcycle gear that was such a turn-on? Was it the badass stereotype? The fact that so many bikers had been depicted as rebels without a cause in film and TV? Or was it the anonymity of the helmet? Anyone could be underneath that thing, and I’d always had a bit of a mask kink.

“Run, Lauren,” I said, unable to stop myself. “Make it good for both of us.”

Taking a deep breath, I turned her back around to face the wall, whispering into her ear, “Only for you, Lo.” And then I dropped to my knees.

“That’s me, a real gentleman. Grab her hand in the streets and her hair in the sheets.”