The Skull King: Skull #1 Read online

  He hit both of his fists against the table, the chain clanking with his movements. “Fine. You win. You always win.”

  The corner of my mouth rose in a smile. “Yes. It seems that way, doesn’t it?”

  His eyes clouded with shadow.

  “Lighten up. You’re about to get out of here and enjoy the last of summer.”

  “I want a week off before slavery begins. There’re a lot of things I need to catch up on.”

  “Let me guess,” I said. “You want to borrow some money to pay for hookers?”

  “It’s only fair—since I’m in here because of you.”

  It’d been days since I’d last spoken to Cassini, and my dick missed her so much. I couldn’t imagine how it would be if it’d been six months since I’d last had her. My brother’s dick was probably about to explode. “You’re in here because you forced me to put you in here. But I suppose I could do that for you—as your brother.”

  12

  Balto

  Heath checked out of the prison, and I drove him to my building.

  He wore my clothes because the clothes he had were too small for him now. He was too muscular for his old t-shirts and jeans. My clothes fit him well, so he really did look just like me. His eyes were directed out the window for the entire drive, and once Florence came into view, he stared at the city with new appreciation in his eyes. It was a beautiful evening. The sun had just set, and the sky was full of splashes of pink and purple. The summer heat had dissipated as night descended.

  “You want to stop anywhere?”

  “No. You can still order hookers, right?”

  “Is that all you can think about?” I asked. “Getting laid?”

  He turned to me, his scowl threatening. “Would you feel any differently?”

  I’d crave a good meal and booze just as much as a woman. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe being around a bunch of gross men all the time made him appreciate the beauty of a woman even more. “Probably not.”

  He looked out the window again.

  I pulled into my compound minutes later, and we entered the building. We rose to the third floor, where he would have plenty of his own space, including his own kitchen and living room, along with a hallway full of bedrooms. “Kitchen is stocked. Gym is on the first floor.”

  He took a step inside and looked around. “It pays to be the Skull King, doesn’t it?”

  I knew he was envious of what I had after his tenure in prison. The whole time he was rotting there, I was living like a king—and I was the one who’d put him behind bars. He hadn’t given me a choice—but he didn’t see it that way. “Yes. I’ve got some clothes for you in the bedroom. My apartment is upstairs. Let me know before you stop by. I’ll do the same for you.” I didn’t want him to walk in on Cassini and me. If he laid eyes on her, he would want to fuck her too, and since he looked identical to me, she might go for it.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and took a look around. “There’s a bar just a few blocks down, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You wanna go?”

  “I thought you wanted a hooker.”

  He shrugged. “I think I’ll work for it tonight—make it that much more rewarding. You coming?”

  It was my brother’s first night of freedom. I’d said my piece about my expectations and I knew he understood them, so now it was time to enjoy his company—and see if we still had a relationship the way we used to. “I could always go for a drink.”

  The bar where I met Cassini was quiet, so we went somewhere with a bigger crowd. This place was packed, with loud music over the speakers, annoying lights that constantly changed like a disco, and women all over the place.

  Exactly what my brother wanted.

  My brother downed liquor like water, ordering all of his favorite drinks because he hadn’t had access to anything but water and juice in prison. He would be hammered out of his mind by the end of the night, but since it was his night, I didn’t try to cut him off.

  He could do whatever he wanted.

  “Check out the brunette in the purple dress.”

  I followed his eyes to a brunette with hoop earrings. She was tall, which was perfect for my brother since he was six three. She had a nice smile, a perfect body, and judging by the shortness of her dress, she was hoping to go home with someone tonight. “Go for it.”

  “She’s got a friend. What do you think of her?”

  “I don’t need to piggyback off you, Heath.” I finished my scotch then glanced at my phone, hoping for a text message from the woman I hadn’t heard from in four days. In the back of my mind, I was always worried her husband would find out about us and hurt her—when he should be hurting me.

  “But it’ll make it a slam dunk. Neither woman will feel bad about ditching the other because they’ll both be with equally sexy guys.”

  “We both know I’m the more attractive one.”

  “How do you figure?” he asked, still looking at the woman.

  “Because I have a place to live. You don’t.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

  “You are too.”

  He finished his drink then nodded to the woman’s friend. “She’s hot too. We doing this?”

  Her friend was blond and tall, but I wasn’t feeling it. “I’m gonna sit out on this one.”

  “Alright…do you want someone else?”

  I was in my thirties, so I’d already had every sexual experience that existed. Sometimes I really enjoyed it, and sometimes it felt stale. Right now, sex was amazing, but it was amazing because of the woman I’d met in the bar. I was her fantasy, her dirty secret, and that turned me on. She wasn’t getting the satisfaction she needed at home, so she was coming to me. She was too honorable to go back on her word, so she would never develop anything real with me. That made it perfect.

  And that made me immune to everyone else. “Not really.”

  Heath stared at me, calling bullshit with his eyes. “You’re picking up pussy with your brother, but you don’t want any pussy?”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want pussy. I just wanted one pussy in particular. “I get pussy all the time, Heath. Sometimes you just aren’t in the mood.”

  “That’s not the Skull King I used to know.”

  I was very much the same.

  “Are you seeing anyone?”

  I looked away. “That’s a stupid question.”

  “Fine. Are you fucking someone?”

  That was more accurate. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

  “And it’s exclusive?” he asked. “That’s not like you.”

  “It’s not exclusive. But she’s the only one I’m interested in fucking right now. So I could force myself to be with one of these women, but I know I prefer her. So until she’s out of my system, I’d rather stick to something I know I’ll like.”

  My brother didn’t read between the lines and make false conclusions. “She’s a hot piece of ass, then?”

  “Yes. And she’s married.”

  His eyes shifted to the woman in purple, and he chuckled. “Now that’s my brother. I knew there was something missing in this story. You’re the biggest jackass I know, so now it all makes sense. And the husband has no idea?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t care if he finds out.”

  “Only more fun that way.”

  “She says he’s a really powerful guy, and you know me, that makes me want to piss him off even more.”

  “I’d do the same.” He nodded to the woman in purple. “So you’re sure about this? Maybe I’ll get both women.”

  “I’m sure. And I hope you do. But let me give you a piece of advice.”

  “I doubt they’re married,” he jabbed.

  I ignored the lame insult. “Don’t tell them you just got out of prison. Not exactly a turn-on.”

  He grinned as he left the stool. “It can be a turn-on—if you tell it the right way.”

  13

  Balto

 
Heath went home with the woman in the purple dress.

  The blond friend wanted me, but I didn’t take her up on her offer. Rejected, she moved farther into the club to find someone else, probably to find validation from another man.

  The three of us walked home together, and Heath and Purple Dress trailed behind me, laughing together and sharing whispered words.

  We made it inside the building and rose to the third floor.

  Heath had the woman crammed in the corner, and he was sucking her face like he might fuck her right then and there—with me standing there. She was into it too, so she didn’t notice the beep of the elevator or the fact she had an audience.

  When the doors started to close, I stuck my hand out so the doors would pop open again. “Your floor, Heath.”

  Heath stopped shoving his tongue down her throat and escorted her inside the pad he would be borrowing for the foreseeable future.

  “Wow,” she said as she pressed her body against his. “Your place is beautiful.”

  The doors closed, and I was carried to my floor.

  Thank god I didn’t have to look at that anymore.

  I walked into my space, filled with booze and disappointment. Heath would be fucking that woman all night, and I would be shoving my dick into my hand. Sometimes I wished Cassini weren’t married so I could fuck her whenever I felt like it. Waiting for her to make the move was frustrating—and pussy shit.

  I undressed, hopped in the shower, and then got into bed.

  I stared at my phone and pulled up her number, wondering if she still had her phone. Maybe her husband was a very observant and paranoid man, and he’d figured out she had two phone signals coming from her bedroom. If a man were truly suspicious, he would find something if he looked hard enough. I texted her to test the waters. Baby. It was a dangerous text to leave on the screen, but if she was careful with her phone, no one should ever see it.

  The three little dots popped up.

  Was she lying in bed, her husband down the hall, and staring at the phone thinking of me?

  Balto.

  I grinned at her response. What are you wearing? Anytime her face popped into my mind, all I could think about was the way the rest of her looked. The way her wide hips led to a tiny waist, the way her olive skin was sprinkled with freckles in the sexiest places.

  T-shirt and thong.

  Ooh…tell me more about this thong.

  Black. Lacy. She used so few words but described so much.

  Are they wet? I wasn’t afraid to say anything to this woman, to speak my mind and be the pervert I was. I felt like I owned her even though I hardly knew her. If I did own her, her husband would be dead and she’d be in bed with me, wearing my t-shirt and the thong I’d picked out for her.

  They were…until I changed them.

  So I’d just missed the show. Then you must miss me.

  When the sun goes down, I always miss you.

  My cock thickened inside my boxers under the covers. Then why haven’t I heard from you?

  Why haven’t I heard from you? Her sassiness was audible in her silence.

  I’m not a chaser.

  Nor am I.

  My mouth widened in a grin, loving the way she held her own so easily. She had no idea just how dangerous and terrifying I was, but if she did, I suspected her attitude wouldn’t change. Come over.

  I can’t. He’s here.

  Heath was fucking pussy all night, and I was in bed alone. Something didn’t add up there. I could have taken that blonde home, but I preferred a brunette—this brunette. I’d had enthusiastic lovers before, but they were usually attracted to my power and money. This woman wanted me because of my looks and fucking ability. She knew nothing about me, only my pretty face and strong physique. I was her fantasy, the exact flavor of dick she loved. If it weren’t for that, I would probably forget about her and move on. There had never been another woman who stayed in my mind longer than a night. Where?

  In his room.

  I was tempted to trespass on his property and crawl through her window. Nothing sexier than fucking a married woman right in her own bed with her husband down the hall. My cock would ram into her, and I would fill the condom over and over…while he had no idea how sore his wife’s pussy would be the next day. How about I come over?

  You would never make it past security.

  I grinned. Is that a challenge?

  No. I want to keep screwing you, and I can’t do that if you’re dead.

  You underestimate me, baby.

  I can’t underestimate a man I hardly know.

  You know my dick pretty well.

  Her next words popped up with a bit of fire. Fuck you.

  I wish, baby.

  The three dots disappeared.

  I knew I hadn’t actually made her angry, but she was just playing hard to get. When does he leave?

  Probably tomorrow. He’s usually gone on the weekends.

  The asshole imprisoned his wife like an exotic animal. He kept her in a cage so he could show her off, but he didn’t care about leaving her in the cage while he was gone, suffering in isolation. She was simply a pretty bird to stare at when he was around. But once he was gone, she was forgotten. He spent his time fucking whores when he had already had a beautiful woman he owned. Maybe if he tried a little harder to please her, she would actually widen her legs and show him the enthusiasm she showed me. Then I’ll see you tomorrow night.

  Maybe.

  She was such a tease. Send me a pic of those panties.

  You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.

  But I need to jerk off now.

  Use the internet.

  Are you on the internet? I smiled like a smartass. Come on, baby. Give me something good. Lots of tits and lace.

  The dots were long gone.

  She didn’t mind being dirty when we were in the same room, but now she ‘d found vanity. Unless she was torturing me on purpose. Or maybe she didn’t have makeup on so she was self-conscious. Like she wouldn’t be just as gorgeous without it. In fact, she’d probably look better. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.

  The dots never appeared, but then an image filled my screen.

  Jesus Fucking Christ.

  Showing one hand down the front of her panties, her tits on full display, and only her red lips visible, it was the sexiest picture I’d ever seen. She was fucking perfect, so undeniably sexy that I couldn’t even write a response.

  My hand dived into my nightstand and snatched the lube before I jerked off like I hadn’t climaxed in months. I went to town hard on my dick, breaking a sweat and breathing deeply. This was much better than porn because it was real, because I remembered how those tits felt in my palm, how that pussy felt around my dick.

  I came all over my stomach while my eyes were glued to the dirty picture. My body tightened and shuddered as I released, feeling so much pleasure, it radiated all the way to my toes. Jerking off never felt as good as fucking a woman, but somehow, this had felt just as good.

  I stared at the come dripping from the head of my cock before I snapped a picture. I was still hard because my dick wasn’t ready to relax just yet. It was too proud, too satisfied at the moment.

  I texted the picture. Thanks, baby.

  14

  Cassini

  When I walked into the dining room, Lucian was on the phone, talking to one of his assistants about the travel arrangements he had for the day. He stood near the window in his three-piece suit, sauntering back and forth as he barked orders to the poor woman over the line.

  I stepped inside to join him for breakfast. Last night, he’d wanted me in his bed, but I was so horny when we were through that I returned to my bedroom after he went to sleep so I could touch myself—and think of Balto.

  If only he had sent me that dick pic before.

  Come dripped down his large dick, the thick vein noticeable in his shaft. There was so much come, and he produced all of it in such a short amount of time—for me. It turned me on
enough that my fingers dove back into my panties, and I rubbed my clit as I stared at his dick.

  So fucking sexy.

  Lucian paced by with one hand in his pocket and then spotted me at the table. He abruptly ended his phone call. “I’ll call you back.” Without taking his eyes off me, he hung up the phone and strode to my side of the table. “Morning, Beautiful.” His affection was much worse than his indifference, especially now that I received it all the time. He leaned down and kissed me on the mouth.

  I kissed him back, swallowing my disgust. I felt like a dog that would be swatted on the nose if I didn’t obey. My promise forced my smartass comment back, and I fulfilled my duty. “Morning. How are you?” I’d touched myself twice last night—and one of those times included a picture of another man’s dick. I didn’t feel the least bit guilty about it. Lucian had been sleeping with whores since the day I became his wife. And even if he hadn’t, he’d forced me to give up my life to save someone I loved. So disgusting. But you would never know I felt this way—judging by the polite way I spoke to him.

  He ignored my question. “Where were you this morning?”

  I’d slipped out of his bed the second he started to snore. “I couldn’t sleep so I watched TV in my room.”

  “You could have watched it in mine.” Anger danced on the surface of his eyes. My disappearance couldn’t have bothered him that much if he was unconscious, but he seemed pretty annoyed by it.

  “Didn’t want to wake you. I know you have important stuff to focus on every day.”

  A compliment to his ego seemed to get him to back off. He moved to his seat across from me.

  Maria brought breakfast, scrambled egg whites with sautéed vegetables for me. I didn’t even get any toast. Lucian got a four-course meal, pancakes, bacon, and toast.

  Fucking asshole.

  He wanted me to stay my exact weight forever, so I grabbed my fork and didn’t complain.