Peach Cobbler and Rum

Bain: *Night Before*

The bass thumped darkly along the shadowy alleyway as the smoke billowed smoothly from the Marlboro black pressed to my lips. Inhaling the smooth tobacco, while the cool painted-brick leaked gently through my black V-neck pressed against it in a relaxed pose as the steel door slammed open, revealing the bouncer escorting a struggling female out by the arm.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF ME! trachat kisku zadnitsu suka!” (Fucking pussy ass bitch) Her velvety voice dripped with venom as the bouncer pushed her back far enough to slam the door shut in her face, leaving her curvaceous body trembling in rage.

The silver and black halter dress hugged snuggly to her panting chest, allowing enough length to show off those gorgeous lean legs strapped delicately in a pair of black Prada stilettos. Her glistening mocha skin, shimmered gently against the dancing street lamps at the end of the alleyway, only allowing enough light to see past the heavy shadows. Rason stirred as my body responded to something naturally hidden within my depths as she reached into her clutch, pulling out her phone with an angry scowl as she called someone.

“Patrick?... Where are you, you Fucking Wanker. I got tossed out, side door. Hurry up!” Her voice grated my nerves but in a good, sinister kind of way, watching closely as she started walking away from my position towards the access road. Snuffing out my cigarette as the crisp night breeze, swirled around the alleyway smelling the most divine scent of peach cobbler and spiced rum.

“Reminds me of home.” Rason growled lowly, following her closely but far enough to not scare her as she neared the roadway, stopping quickly as she spun around pointing a Smith & Wesson twenty-two. Smirking evilly, she was armed and with good taste for the lightweight handgun perfect for such a hottie.

“Easy, Dirty Harry. I was just heading out.” Pointing with a lazy finger towards the roadway as she switched the safety back in place, lowering the gun with a twisted smirk. Her gorgeous blues triggering my dick to stiffen, licking my lips as her scent slapped me violently with the rushing whoosh of air from the passing box truck.

“Maybe think twice, before following a gal down a dark alleyway.” Her heavy Russian accent only added to the rushing heat collecting in my groin as a black Rover squealed to a stop and the dirty blonde male swung open the passenger door.

Normally in control over my beast, but something seemed way off fucking kilter.

“Dani, let’s go.” His voice aggravated Rason as he stirred erratically from the shadows, lunging at her as she turned away, sinking my fangs into her wrist tasting the sweet twang of her bear as a cold metallic barrel pressed into my temple with an audible click of the safety.

“What..did..you..do? grebany medveb” Speaking in her Russian language calling me a “fucking bear”, smirking sinisterly at her flushed face and those sparkling blues, pressing the gun barrel further into my temple to take back her crimson laced wrist that I savored with a passion.

“Mine.” Growled out between my lips and her delicious wrist as her flesh healed over against my warm tongue, releasing her gently as she stepped back staring at the brown bear marked upon her beautiful mocha flesh.

“ya nay khotel, chtoby menia otmechali.” (I didn’t want to be marked) Rason roared at those words as the male darted from the Rover, pulling his Glock like a trained solider, approaching us quickly as the heavens decided to rain on my parade.

“BACK OFF FUCKER! SHE’S MINE!” Pulling my Glock hidden in my back waistband, halting his approach as my Russian Goddess stood quietly staring at her mark with a tilted smirk.

“Stand down Patrick.” She commanded the dirty blonde dressed in the typical black button-up and Armani slacks, turning sharply on her heel as they clicked hollowly against the wet concrete. Rain droplets slowly dribbled along her straight auburn locks. Gulping smoothly as she readjusted the barrel to the tender flesh under my chin, barely seeing her blue eyes blaze to life with a sinister desire.

“Mine.” The word whispered angrily along my ear as her hot, slick tongue ran up my earlobe, flicking it quickly before spinning sharply on her heel to leave with PATRICK. Rason roared wildly, unchambering my loaded round into my hand, kissing it.

“Gorgeous!” Flicking the bullet as she spun quickly, grabbing it as she slid into the Rover motioning to Patrick to “Go”. Studying her closely as the Rover sped away in a rain-stricken blur, turning back around to complete what I was here for to begin with.

“Goldy Locks.” Mockingly calling out to her as the bouncer glanced at my wrist band, allowing me access again after my interrupted cigarette. Scanning the hazy venue of sweaty, glow painted bodies as the bass rumbled wildly along my damp body, zeroing in on my target.

“Dani is going to be pissed.” Rason snickered darkly as Goldy Locks jumped into my arms, kissing along my neck with that sickening wet dog scent, gagging silently, pushing her back into the shadows latching onto her neck with my lips to subdue her. Slipping her phone out from her back pocket as she clenched tightly to my arms.
Mewling into my ear pressing the last delete, confirming to delete contact as she pulled away with swirling gray orbs that seemed more like murky water than the beautiful blues that just pressed a loaded gun to my head.

“Rason.” She gasped my name playfully, cupping her neck in shock as my eyes scanned the club, noticing my actual target missing.

“Sorry, I’m late. Car troubles again. Where is everyone?” Talking a little louder than a normal voice, motioning to the Bartender for two shots of whatever.

“You actually just missed them. Elicia had a weird panic attack, so the Nightshade brothers took her home.” She gave the Bartender a quick kiss to the cheek, before snapping her shot back with a bright smile.

“That Whore!” Rason snarled demonically, cracking a smirk as Goldy Locks swayed side-to-side. Reaching for her arm before she tumbled backward.

“You want to get out here?” She laughed lightly, looking over her shoulder with a pouty face that looked more like a squished fish, reaching for my phone but felt a key card instead. Pulling it out quickly to see it was to the Garden Suite at The Mayfair Townhouse, shivering in a strange rushing wave of static heat as my hand slipped back into my pocket.

“Actually, I have to leave town.” Kissing her cheek, gagging with Rason as my feet led me quickly out of the club, and into my SUV as the mechanical “arsehole” directed me to my unplanned destination.

Pulling up to the Regal blue and white building, nodding firmly to the doorman as he opened the door handing my keys over to the valet, slipping the valet ticket in my pocket. Avoiding unwarranted communication, slipping the key card from my other pocket to show I was meant to be here, making my way through the elegant, decorated structure.

“Behave.” Warning Rason as he stirred erratically from the shadows as we approached the Garden Suite door, engaging the locking mechanism as the calming creams and modern décor blended gently with the strange calming of Vivaldi’s Winter movement of the Four Seasons.

“Typical.” Rolling my eyes at the classical selection as soft laughter and water splashing drew my attention to the grand spa-styled bathroom, removing my boots with a quick untucking of my shirt as the warm marble flooring halted my approach.

Growling lowly with Rason as my Russian Goddess soaked delicately in the soaker tub with flickering candles and rose petals, sipping champagne as Patrick sponged her neck and back from behind in his full-glory.

“Why the Fuck are you touching her?” Purring darkly as her topaz blues drifted smoothly along my trembling body, licking those succulent pink lips as she took another sip of her sparkling champagne, halting the smug smirking Patrick with her slender hand.

“I think introductions are in order.” Her laughter sung brightly to my raging emotions as she slid to the edge of the tub, exposing her water coated breasts as they dripped beautifully with the bubbly soap suds that added a sweet swirl of honey to her already intoxicating scent of peach cobbler and rum.

“Why is he in here?” Pointing to the smug expression the laced across the dirty blonde prick lifting his flute of champagne, saluting me brashly as he sipped the bubbling liquid.

“Patrick? He’s harmless, unless you provoke him. He’s my step-brother.” Rason and I faltered for a second, realizing their relationship was more than just step-siblings.
Who am I to judge? I have had mother-daughter duos, a few brother-sister duos but this settled differently with me. She was mine, all “mine”.

“Pleasure.” Grounding out the word as her smile tilted in amusement, looking over her shoulder at the crass smirk that painted his well-defined face with deep sapphire blues that sparkled menacingly against the flickering candlelight.

“Oh, don’t be like that Bain Delois, we are “mates” after all, and this is just a perk.” She slid over to that prick, cupping his face with her dripping hands as their lips molded and moved in sync like this was a well-established relationship. Surprised at my dick as it stiffened in dark excitement, finding her bold, twisted mentality even more intoxicating feeling Rason oddly, relaxed.