Filthy for the Night (For The Night #3) (6 page)

Picking your average run of the mill guy had been
an inspired choice, Yasmin was all about standards, so I’d figured that having
a fat sweaty dude fuck her would make it feel even more filthy. I kept catching
glimpses of her face, contorted with pleasure, through the four men surrounding
her, grasping, stroking and squeezing and could hear her cries of pleasure. It
actually made me feel nauseous, and there was no sign of my infamous regular
erection anywhere to be seen. I had no idea how I was going to get it up and
keep it up to fuck her later. Much as I’d given her everything she’d asked for
so far tonight, I was still part of that package and if I didn’t want my
reputation ruined, I was going to have to make good. I just couldn’t reconcile
the girl I’d met four years ago with this one, currently screaming as some
stranger impaled her again. Mind you, I guess I was a stranger the day I took
her into the toilets at Wembley stadium. Damn, I seriously was a hypocrite. I
was criticising her for having sex with strangers, when that was how I made my
money. I wanted to be able to fuck sexually liberated women, just not know how
liberated they were. Or in this case see and hear it, but I had to keep
watching, to make sure they were all using rubbers as instructed. I watched as
the back of the pickup shook, while one guy pounded into her and another
squatted over her face as she sucked on his dangling hairy balls and the
excited chatter of the other two cut through the otherwise silent wood.
Suddenly she was lifted from the back of the truck, and lowered onto another
guys cock as he anchored his feet and braced his knees and she clung to his
neck as he gripped her thighs. Another guy tucked in behind her and angled
himself into her backside and she howled like a wolf as they both rammed into
her. Her fake silicone tits bounced with each thrust before they were grabbed
and squeezed so hard I feared they’d split and someone would be knocked out by
a flying projectile of squishy serial numbered plastic.

What the hell was I doing?
Was this really
the life I wanted to keep living? Endless empty fucks for money? I already
owned a flash sports car, a luxury apartment, the clothes and accessories and
had a nest egg set aside that would give me a comfortable income for years to
come. I could live really comfortably off the charges I made from my personal
training, especially as I had a number of high profile clients. So it wasn’t
like I
needed
the money. Then
why
was I still doing this? I ran
my hands over my face as I realised why. Because I hadn’t had a reason not to.
Until last week. Until I’d met Summer and she’d woken something up inside of
me, something I didn’t even know I was missing until I’d experienced that night
with her. A need to be able to
really
care for someone and be cared for
that much in return. Had I really been so blinkered in my current lifestyle
that I’d not opened my eyes and realised what I was missing? Some normality in
my life, a woman I could love and treat like a princess while still having
seriously hot monogamous sex? I let out a chuckle, you could take the sex out
of the job, but not the sex out of the man. Hot sex was a given when it came to
me. Maybe I needed to think of retiring Logan Steele and just be me. Start
going out and dating again, maybe find someone who set off some spark in me
like she had. Damn her for having booked that bloody appointment and ruining
me. I’d gone damn hard thinking about her again, about what I’d like to have
done to her and would never get the chance to do again. As I heard Yasmin
screaming I growled, quickly unzipped myself and ripped open a condom packet
with my teeth and covered myself, before striding over.

‘Put her down. Now. Face down on the back of the
truck,’ I barked. I was going to fuck Yasmin the way I wished I’d been able to
fuck Summer, taking her other virginal hole hard and fast. This was what I
needed to forget her. I needed a reminder that I wasn’t built for making love
with a sweet woman, I was born to fuck sexually adventurous ones, who knew what
they wanted and weren’t afraid to ask for it. Maybe Logan Steele actually was
the real me after all.

‘Logan,’ she gasped as her face lit up. If she
thought she’d been fucked well by the eleven guys that she’d had before me
tonight, she was about to revise that assessment. The guys currently screwing
her did as they were told and bent her over the tailgate. I kicked her feet
apart as I held the back of her neck firmly. She was panting hard and I hadn’t
even started. After a quick check that my condom was intact I slammed into her
stretched rear and her scream of pleasure nearly uprooted some of the trees
surrounding us. ‘Yes,
yes,
harder, fuck me harder,’ she begged.

I winced, the sound of her squeaky voice was
grating. I blocked it out and closed my eyes and tried to imagine it was Summer
below me begging me to fuck her this way, tried to imagine that we were alone.
That her plump full lips were parted as she gasped for air, her short natural
nails were scraping at the metal below her, those cheeks of hers had a pink
sexual flush to them, her blue eyes rolling in pleasure as I plundered her,
viciously. I angled myself deeper and let out a deep growl as I felt my cock
firing properly, the sensation of pleasure wrapping itself around me like a
vine and squeezing me to the brink of ejaculation. I could feel perspiration on
my brow as I slammed into her again and again and started to tense as the urge
to release crept up on me. ‘Yes,’ I roared as my backside clenched tightly and
I jammed myself right into her as I started to shudder.

‘
Logan,
’ she screamed as a powerful climax
ripped through her.

‘
Yes
,’ I groaned and tightened my fingers
on her hips. Her
bony
hips? I opened my eyes as my breathing cantered
and silently cursed to be reminded I was fantasising, that it was Yasmin
falling apart and sobbing under me, not the woman who’d apparently taken over
as my sexual muse and controlled my erections.

‘Logan. O …
wow.
Take me … home. I’m …
done,’ she whined. I quickly pulled out of her and ripped off my condom and
tucked myself back in.

‘Jesus mate, I thought I fucked hard, but you take
it to a whole other level,’ uttered one of the guys as he shook his head,
looking at me in awe. I gave him a quick smile as I shoved my damp hair back
from my forehead. ‘Do we still get to finish off all over her?’

‘If she’s happy with that. Is that what you want?’
I asked as I looked down at her dazed face.

‘Yeah,’ she sighed as she still lay there,
completely boneless.

‘No more fucking,’ I warned, ‘she’s done in.’

‘Right, like anyone would want to follow you,’
scoffed another guy as they moved forward and rolled her over onto her back.

‘Stomach and chest only,’ I added as I leaned on
the side of the truck, to make sure I could hear her if she changed her mind
and begged me to take her home now, but kept my eyes off what was happening. I
needed to book bloody hypnotherapy or have a memory wipe or partial lobotomy to
get Summer out of my head. She was going to be the death of me and my damn
sexual career. I tried to block out the cumulative groans of everyone at my
side and I ran through my personal training sessions coming up, trying to think
how best to help one of my non-sexual clients to find a way to incorporate
exercise into her hectic schedule coming up. As a backing singer for a major female
artist, she was going to be on the road, eating out all the time, staying in
different hotels. I was startled out of my thoughts by Yasmin moaning my name
again. I looked down to see the guys tucking themselves back in and her stomach
and tits covered in spunk.

‘Lie still, I’ll go and get some wipes and your
coat, ok?’

‘Hmmm,’ she sighed.

‘Some girlfriend you’ve got, pal. You ever fancy
doing this again, let me know, I’m in.’

‘Me too,’ came another chorus of voices. I frowned
at them, they’d been warned to make it seem natural.

‘Sure, if we’re passing again you may see us.’ I
strode back to the Merc and tapped the window before opening James’ door. He
quickly removed his ear phones. ‘Sorry James, we’re nearly good to go. I’ll
just get her cleaned up and dressed.’

‘No problem, Sir. Let me know when I can take off
the mask.’

‘I thought it would be a more entertaining evening
if you attempted to drive us home with it on.’

‘Very funny, Sir,’ he smiled.

‘I’m being serious, I thought you marines were
capable of the impossible.’

‘Even we have our limits,’ he chuckled. I slapped
him on the shoulder and shut his door, opened the back one and grabbed the
packet of baby wipes, a plastic bag and Yamin’s coat and returned to the
Navara. The guys filtered off as I stuck my hand in the bag, forming a
makeshift glove and used a pile of wipes to clean her up as well as I could,
before turning the bag inside out and tying a knot in it, securing the
offending items inside. Even though I’d not touched anything, I still used some
wipes on my hands, before propping her up, half comatosed, and pulling her coat
on and doing up her belt.

‘So … tired,’ she moaned as I lifted her up into
my arms.

‘I can imagine, you’ve had quite the night. Did
you enjoy it though?’

‘Amazing,’ she nodded as she fought to keep her
eyes open.

‘Are you positive it’s safe for me to come back to
yours?’

‘Hmmm. Staff will keep … quiet.’

‘I bet,’ I nodded, assuming she blackmailed them
to keep quiet, just like my other client Camilla did.

‘Hmmm.’

‘Why don’t you sleep then, I’ll wake you up when
we get there, ok?’ I heard a gentle snore and chuckled to see she’d already passed
out. I carefully lay her on the back seat and got in, placing her head on my
lap again. ‘Ok James, it’s safe for you to open your eyes now.’

‘Excellent. I felt like I was on night time manoeuvres
again.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Not at all Sir, that’s what you are paying me
for. Back to Mrs. Taylors?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘Did you have a good evening?’ he asked as he put
his seatbelt on. Yasmin was snoring, so I knew it was safe to talk.

‘Not particularly, no. I’m feeling rather confused
at the moment, I’m completely off my game tonight. I’m sure it’ll pass.’

‘And if it doesn’t?’

‘I can always make an honest living with my
personal training, it would just … well I’m afraid if I followed that option it
would mean I wouldn’t need your services so often.’

‘Don’t worry about me, Sir. Mr. Davenport still
pays me a very generous annual salary and barely uses me as he’s not in London
so much anymore. The extra money from you has been very nice, but it’s not
required.’

‘Then is it too late for me to renegotiate my fee
for this evening?’ I queried in jest as he turned the car and headed back
towards the main road.

‘Far too late, Sir. Besides, the fee was to stay
with you until I drop you home at whatever time that may be, and Mrs. Smith was
looking forward to looking after the grandchildren tonight. I’d prefer to
return when they’ve been up for a few hours and have worn themselves out
somewhat.’

‘
You
can infiltrate the most dangerous and
highly secured areas in the world, and drop ten men single handedly, but you
can’t handle a couple of youngsters?’ I laughed with a raised brow.

‘They’re
animals
at that age, especially on
sugar overload. If the noise wasn’t bad enough, you take your eyes off them for
a
second
and they’re gone. I’m getting far too old for all that, Sir. I
prefer them when they are a little worn out and happy to sit and listen to me
read to them, or watch some TV or a film.’

‘How old are they?’

‘A set of four year old twins, Sir.’

‘I had no idea you were a father, let alone a
grandfather.’

‘Why would you, Sir? It’s not my job to bore you
with details of my life.’

‘I’m not bored at all. Was fatherhood really
amazing?’

‘Yes, and it still is. You may love your wife
deeply, but nothing prepares you for the overwhelming surge of love that you
have for your own child.’

‘So what made you change from the guy who used to
sow his oats while he was in the forces, to a home loving family man?’

‘I met Mrs. Smith. She made me want to change,
Sir.’

‘Simple as that?’

‘Simple as that. She’s my soul mate and from the
moment I saw her I wanted no one else. I’ve never wanted anyone else since.’

‘Huh.’ I nodded and stuck out my bottom lip as my
brow creased while I pondered his comments.

‘If you don’t mind me saying Sir, she’s really
done quite a number on you.’

‘Yasmin?’ I asked, surprised as I caught his eye
in the rear view mirror.

‘No, Sir. Miss Beresford. You’re different since
you met her last week.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I sighed and looked at my
reflection in the car window. She really had done a number on me.