Wild Bastard by Ella Savitskaya (most popular ebook readers .txt) 📗

"I didn't ask if he is here. I asked where is he? "

"I don't know. He got a call today, and he left. Said he'd be gone for a few days. "

Fuck. Asshole had a feeling.

There is a metallic clang behind me, and then there are shuffling, cautious footsteps.

"Put the rebar down, or I'll shove it up your ass and twist it a few times," I growl without turning around. The sound of footsteps stops abruptly, and then I hear the sound of falling iron.

"Where did you go?" I push harder on his nose, making him squirm in pain.

"I don't know, he didn't say. Maybe about the bikes. He wanted to buy some."

I see he's not lying. I remove my fingers and, wiping them with a rag lying on the repairing bike, stumble my eyes over the canister.

Under the stares, I cross the distance to the wall, pick it up, and, making sure it's not empty, unscrew the lid.

I pour the contents onto the stone floor, dousing the motorcycles with gasoline, whose owners will be very unhappy about the loss of their expensive favorites.

I toss the empty canister away in the ringing silence and walk back to the door.

"Give him my regards from Cash."

Two pairs of eyes widen in shock, watching me take a lighter out of my pocket, flick it on, and throw it into the middle of the loft.

I quickly walk out the door, catching a glimpse of orange color in the side view of the building, and without turning around, walk back to the car. Behind me, saving their asses and swearing, those two jump out.

Did it make me feel better? Definitely. I've paid for his scratched bike. Now the bastard's gonna think twice before he lets a kid on the track. Wouldn't be the first time. First it was the dean's daughter, now it's Lana. And if the dean got away with it, I'm not gonna do the same.

I call Red and go to our bar. I want to drink like shit. I'm not going to have more than a couple of drinks, because I have to talk to Rie.

It's only now, after letting out my rage, that I start to think about what the sister said. So the savage isn't a grid-girl at all. I can see why she's fighting me so hard now, anyway. If she'd been at the track a long time ago, she would have sucked me off and let me fuck her in every possible position.

That's what all the grid-girls do. Usually it's the local scum, used by everyone else when their dick gets hard and they need to relieve the tension.

Even I had a hard-on today when I saw her in those tight jeans and a top that didn't hide her flat belly. The ponytail, gathered at the top and revealing her neck, was just right. It would be nice to wrap it around my fist, bend her over the table one more time, rip her pants off, and fuck her from behind.

I have to face the fact that now that I know Rie is not a whore, I want her even more. It's one thing to fuck an available chick, but it's another to fuck someone you don't know shit about. That, by the way, is the main question I'm gonna find out today. What was that girl saying about not having a place to live?

I tap my thumb on the steering wheel and turn on the music. Hard rock starts blasting from the speakers. I wonder if she ran away from home, rebelling against family rules, or if it's something else. I don't know why I'm interested in that. I usually only think of chicks in one direction, but her story deserves attention. Especially when considering that the savage went to the track instead of my sister.

After sitting at the bar for a couple of hours and hearing from the people that Dan's garage had not been saved, my spirits soared to their previous level.

I returned home and went straight to the guest rooms. Judging by the silence on the second floor, Lana was already asleep. I walked through the three empty bedrooms and, seeing things scattered on the bed in one of them, went inside. Outside the bathroom door the water was murmuring.

Great. So she's wet and naked. Mmm.

I roll onto the bed with my shoes on, and, picking up the top that was rubbing against Reenah's tits a few hours ago, I bring it to my face. I sniff the scent soaked into the fabric, but I don't smell anything but linen conditioner. I toss it to the floor, and then notice the black panties lying around.

This is more interesting. I rake them into my fist and suck in the spicy aroma. Oh, fuck. In a few seconds my cock gets so full that the metal fly hurts my skin. I straighten it up just as the water stops making noise, and a few seconds later the door opens and a wet beastie enters the room.

A white towel is wrapped around the perfect body, leaving room for the imagination. Her slender legs tread carefully on the carpet. Behind her, steam streams from behind the open door, and drops of water run down her face from her wet hair. Sexy little devil.

"Well, hello!" I draw attention to myself and put my hands behind my head.

She flinches and stops abruptly. Not a drop of makeup on her face. She's even better this way. The bright makeup makes her look like a whore, but now she looks like...a girl!