Authors: Clarissa Wild
This is book 3 in the FIERCE series. It is NOT required to read the other books in the series. This book can be read as a stand alone.
Take what you want. Claim it. Own it. Never let go.
Playboy Jaret Paxon has no pride. He’s filthy as fuck, and he doesn’t care. He’s got it all… Expensive cars, a luxurious home, and a killer smile. Flirting with girls at local clubs, his money gets him whatever he desires. Tight pussy around hungry cock. Night after night. Life is good.
Except it’s all a lie.
Wealth. Love. A family. Education. None of it is real. Jaret’s life is broken. Fucking makes him forget.
Until Lin, the only girl who understood him, stumbles back into his life. One kiss rekindles the sparks from long ago. Jaret wants her back, but he’s not the only one who screwed up. Dating the wrong guy got Lin into trouble. Now that Jaret’s in the middle, someone’s out for blood.
Lies turn into shame. Shame becomes pride. And when Jaret’s proud of something, he won’t let go without a fight.
Filthy is a novella in the Fierce series, featuring Jaret's story. Stand Alone. No Cliffhanger. Complete at 16500 words.
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© 2014 Clarissa Wild
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or person, whether living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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I really can’t write without music. Even a small story such as FILTHY has its own playlist ;)
“Freaks” by The Hawk In Paris
“Let It Go” by The Neighbourhood
“Dark Star” by Jaymes Young
“Waiting Game” by Banks
“Raise The Dead” by Rachel Rabin
“Fuel to Fire” by Agnes Obel
“Feel the Same” by Battle Tapes
I have no pride.
Like I give a fuck.
With my back against the wall of an alley and no lamp in sight, I’m thoroughly enjoying being in the dark. No, seriously, I’d rather not see the girl that’s knelt in front of me right now. Regardless, I can’t help myself sneaking some looks at her from time to time. Biting my lip, I look down at her sucking on my dick. Her big mouth and perky lips allow for plenty of pleasure, which is pretty much the only thing I care about. I’m glad I shut her up with a kiss back at the club. That mouth of hers is finally being used for the right reasons, and damn, she can suck. Her tongue swirls around my dick, lathering it with her saliva. When her lips wrap firmly around my shaft, my veins pulse from her licks. Fuck, this is just what I needed. I wouldn’t want to go a day without some random girl blowing me. Yep, every day another girl, never the same. One time only, and that’s it. Usually, I don’t even know their names. Heck, I don’t even remember the name of the girl who’s on her knees in front of me right now.
Do I care? Maybe. I should, actually, but strangely I don’t. It wasn’t my idea to do this, so I sure as hell don’t feel guilty. Girls just tend to throw themselves at my feet. Of course, they do it because they think I’ll give them more than one night with my cock. I might have given the impression I’m worth my weight in gold, which frankly, makes me laugh, but whatever. I guess the right clothes, a flashy car, and plenty of cash to go around makes them believe I’m rich. As if I would share it with them … if I were in fact rich, that is. Looks can be deceiving.
I groan from the pressure she applies with her tongue, my cock bouncing against the roof of her mouth.
“Yeah, baby,” I say, “that feels good.” Spreading my fingers in her hair, I grasp it tight from excitement.
“I wanna taste your come,” she moans.
I smirk. “You sure you want me to blow in your mouth?”
She glances up at me with smudged eyes, which look more like those of a raccoon than an actual human being. So I close my eyes and imagine someone else’s lips slipping over my dick. Once I have her in my mind, it never takes long to blow my load.
Except … she stops.
What the fuck?
Making a face, I gaze down at her. She smashes her lips together, smiling, and licking them before coming back up. Now wait a minute, that wasn’t the plan.
“I was just enjoying that,” I say, groaning out loud.
“I know, but there’s plenty more where that came from. Let’s go to your place. I want to try out that bubble bath you mentioned.” She raises an eyebrow, tucking my cock back into my pants, which suddenly feel too cramped. I’m fucking hard and ready to come, and now she’s pulling this shit? Tasting my come my ass. She’s playing me.
Her fingers trail a way down my shirt while she pouts her lips. Oh no, not another one of those. Fuck no, why do I always get the money-grabbers?
I grasp her fingers and push her away.
She winces. “What the hell, Jaret?”
I turn around and shake my head, blowing off some steam.
“Hey, where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet.”
“I am.” I snort, and walk back to my convertible Mazda.
“What?” Her voice makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Such a fucking annoying, high-pitched shriek. “I thought we were going to fuck at your place!”
“You thought wrong,” I yell back, flipping my keys. “Home is for sleeping, clubbing is for fucking.”
“What a load of crap,” she yells. “Did you honestly expect me to suck you without wanting something in return?”
I stop in my tracks, look up at the sky, and laugh. It’s not even funny, but then again it is. I momentarily turn around and cock my head. “Actually, I did.”
Her jaw drops slowly, as if she’s still digesting the fact that I’m a major asshole. Of course I won’t deny it. Why should I? It’s useful to me. Like I said, I don’t give a shit. Not about random, money-hungry girls like her.
The expression on her face is amusing. “No shame in my game,” I add. Turning around again, I walk away. I can hear her stampede and shriek like she’s gone ape-shit as I hurry to my car. Unlocking it, something slams me in the back. It drops to the floor.
Growling, I turn and see the girl standing a few feet away, fuming. She’s only wearing one heel. I swear she came here with two. Below me, on the asphalt, is the other.
Taking a deep breath, I bend and pick it up. I come back up, squinting. She squints, too. And then I throw the fucker back at her.
Fuck that! Don’t mess with me. You throw a shoe at me? Right back at you.
Her squeal is the last thing I hear before I jump in my car, start the engine, and race off.
They think I have money, and I make them believe it so I get laid.
I’m cheap. I don’t give a fuck. They’re just as bad as I am, pretending to want me for my cock when all they want is a free pass into luxury. Well, fuck me if it’s bad for using it to my advantage. I mean, I like fucking, no doubt about it, I’ll do it any day I can, and since they are so willing, why not? It’s the only thing I got going for me at the moment, so I’m sticking with it. Hell, my parents are the ones who are rich, not me. I used to believe everything they owned would become mine eventually. Boy, was I wrong. Turns out they had me removed from all of the funds after they found out about that fiasco at college. If I had known they’d stop supporting me financially when I fucked it up, of course I would’ve done a better job at acing my tests.
Not that it fucking matters right now. It’s too late, so I might as well enjoy my time while I still have some money left. After that … well … who knows? I’d rather not think about it. I know I’m a fuck-up. I don’t need to be reminded of it.
Screw that, I don’t need their money. I can make my own just fine. I’ve been dabbling at poker for a while now, and I’m getting pretty good at it. A flick of the hand, an extra card shuffled under the table; no problem!
When I take another sip of my beer, I notice it’s empty.
Crap! This is my last can.
Scrunching it up, I throw it in the back of my car while I drive toward the next club. This time one where I’ll definitely get action. Paid action. Laid action. Hell yeah, baby!
I honk at some pretty ladies driving in a car in the other lane, flipping them the finger when they stick out their tongues. Then I make a turn and drive up the parking lot of Kitties Club. After hopping out, I lock the car and saunter to the club. The music is booming; I can hear it already and I’m not even inside yet. As I walk through the door, a guard checks me out from top to bottom before letting me continue. He even growls at me like some kind of dog. I shrug and pass through. Red lights, flashing outfits and loud music overload my senses. Girls dance on the bars, tables, and floor, or hang from the poles. Some are dancing with a guy while others are doing some hands-on work. They’re all wearing masks today. Crap, I totally forgot to bring one. No wonder the guard was being snarly at me.