Pyke

CAMILA:

 

The Night Stalker Club's sign is ostentatious with its bold neon-red letters—it's blindingly bright, enough to obscure my vision.

The club is best known for its elite and celebrity clientele, but my cousin is lucky enough to work as one of the bartenders. I was glad to hear of its re-opening after last month's incident. It means my cousin is back at work.

Bianca presents our IDs to one of the bouncers, who looks huge and intimidating. He gives me a second look after glancing back at my ID in his hand. I may look younger than my age, but I'm already twenty-one. In fact, I just got my college degree.

The bass beats from the huge sound system reverberate through my chest. My eyes widen in amazement when I see the virtual music playing on the 3D walls. Laser lights flash patterns onto the dance floor, which simultaneously changes colors in time with the music. Pretty awesome, I must say.

The DJ plays one of the most popular hit songs. People yell in excitement, hands raised in the air as they move as if in slow motion.

Bianca and Megan drag me to the crowded dance floor. The smell of sweat, perfume, and booze doesn't stop me from swaying my hips as I watch my friends dance with me.

I grin and close my eyes. It feels good to get lost in the music thumping through the speakers. The beat starts pulsing through my body as I follow the rhythm.

We dance for I don't know how long until I am sweaty and slick. My breathing catches, and my heart thumps wildly in my chest.

Bianca says something that I can't make out over the music.

“What?” I yell.

We burst into laughter when we realize we can't understand one another. We get ourselves off of the dance floor, but even then, the music is still too loud for us to start chatting.

“I need a drink!” Megan yells into my ear.

I nod in agreement, yelling back, “I need a restroom!”

She leans her face closer, pointing to the empty table in one corner of the bar. “We'll be there.”

I nod then walk away, trying to find the ladies' room. I groan inwardly as I see the line of women waiting outside. It's longer than a queue of customers waiting for a Black Friday sale.

My shoulders sag as I walk away, but then a strong hand grabs my arm. I yelp in surprise, one hand flying to my chest.

A pair of brown eyes are squinting down at me. His fake blond hair is jelled up to look like a Mohawk.

“What the hell are you doing in here, Cam?” my cousin, Kylan, asks.

“Why do people go to nightclubs, Ky?” I bark sarcastically.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” he asks, though he knows the answer already. His pierced brows meet, clearly not happy to see me here.

His mom raised us together. He's like a brother to me. I didn't want an hour of his lectures, that's why I didn't tell him.

“As if you would let me out if you knew.” I pouted.

“It's Saturday night, and it's too loud and crowded for you,” he says as if I haven't noticed.

“I do have eyes, and the last time I checked, my ear drums were working perfectly fine.”

Kylan groans, clenching his jaw. Seconds later he sighs in defeat. “Where are your friends?”

I know it's too late for him to do anything. We're already here, and he happens to like my friends.

“They found a table.”

He nods glumly, looking at the long line of women. “Do you need a restroom?”

“Yup.”

“Come with me.” He grabs my wrist. Kylan is a perfect cousin, even if he's overprotective and annoying sometimes.

I follow him, and he fishes out keys from his pocket as we stop in front of a door with a ‘For Employee Use Only' sign at eye level.

“I have to go back to work. Get back to your friends once you're done and lock the door after you, okay?” He inspects me from head to toe, shaking his head, then walks away without another word.

I know he's going to berate me for what I'm wearing tonight. I'll think about how to answer later, or I might just shut my mouth and wait for him to finish his talk.

I get inside the restroom, uttering a thank you. It is a hundred times cleaner than the public restroom I was going to use before Kylan saw me.

Once I'm done with my deeds, I pat my hands dry with a paper towel while taking a look at myself in the mirror. I re-coat my lips with the red lipstick I have in my purse and run my fingers through my wavy chocolate brown hair.

Closing the door behind me with a sigh of satisfaction, I walk away.

“Harder!” The voice of a woman brings me to a standstill.

My brow rises.

“Oh God, faster!”

“Fuck!” a rich masculine voice with a hint of roughness grunts. His single word makes me shiver, and something in me awakens at his tone.

I scan the narrow hallway—a dark wooden door is just a few steps away from me.

“Oh God, more! Harder!” the woman yells in between pants. “Make me come.”

The man groans in response.

What am I doing?

Why am I even listening to them have sex? I'm not so naive that I haven't figured out what they're doing. I blink repeatedly and pretend as if I don't hear them. I shake the dirty thoughts out of my head and begin to walk away when the door bangs, making me jump in surprise. A squeal escapes my mouth.

Thump.

Thump.

“Yes, yes! I'm coming. I'm coming!” the woman screams even louder than before.

The thumping continues.

For God's sake, Cam! Why are you still standing here?

“Fuck!” His voice dips low in a slow drawl. It only draws me in even more.

What's wrong with me? I shake my head in annoyance.

“Come, Tiffany!” the man commands with a growl.

“It's Brittany!” she corrects him, sounding annoyed.

Heat flushes through my body in anger. What an asshole! Doesn't he even know her name?

“Sorry. I mean Brittany,” the man apologizes quickly.

I roll my eyes. I startle when the door thuds again—it rattles as if it might break loose from its hinges.

Another thump.

“Oh, yes, Pyke!”

Pyke?

PYKE:

 

For the umpteenth time, I chuckle and shake my head in disbelief over what happened earlier. What she did to me almost pissed me off, but for some reason, I can't be mad.

I'm sitting in my office, where I just pressed that Brittany girl against the door. I gently rub my swollen and warm left cheek. Cringing, I press the cold bottled water to my affected face.

I'm more of a one-night stand kind of guy. I've never slept with the same woman twice. I make sure she knows that it's only a one-time thing before I fuck her. I love sex, but I also love my life, and I don't want a complicated relationship to complicate my life.

My mind goes back to that brunette. She's hot as fuck, but she was also furious as hell, and I don't even know why she was so pissed at me…

***

I pull up my boxers after taking off the used condom and throwing it into the bin.

“Thanks for tonight, lover boy!” the girl purrs seductively, biting her bottom lip. She's attractive, but she's just my flavor of the night.

“You're welcome, babe. Close the door after you,” I say casually.

“We can do this again sometime, you know,” she suggests, zipping her dress up.

“You know me, Brandy. I don't do that kind of thing.”

She shoots me a glare, face flushed with anger. She grabs her purse on top of my desk. “You're a dick!”

“My name is Gisele, by the way!” She walks to the door, then slams it behind her.

This is what I don't like. Sometimes girls get clingy. Blowing a breath through my nose, I wash my face and run my hands through my hair in frustration.

Why do women like to make things so complicated?

I leave my office and abruptly stop at the sight of a brunette looking super pissed.

“Did you enjoy the show? You could've joined us. That would've been an awesome threesome.” Okay, that was way out of line.

Her dark brown eyes glint like an obsidian stone pierced with the fire of hatred, but there's a hint of surprise when our gazes meet. She swallows hard as her face turns red.

Why is she angry at me?

“You're such an asshole! You just made that woman cry. Are you always like this? Just have sex with us then throw us out like trash once you're done?”

She's wearing fuck-me heels that add a few inches to her maybe five-foot-four frame. She has a straight and small nose, which is now flaring with fury. Her red-painted lips are pressed into a thin line.

Fuck me if she doesn't have gorgeous tits. Her dress fits perfectly, like it was made just for her. The V cut of her dress shows more of her juicy cleavage. What can I say? I'm a boob man.

Her flat abdomen is in full view as well. I can imagine running my tongue over it until she squirms and curls her toes underneath me.

I'm into blondes, but fuck me if I'm not going to fuck her brains out. All she needs is to ask. I'd love to make her scream instead of shouting at me like a clingy girlfriend.

I've just fucked someone, but my cock is already on full alert.

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?”

I blink. “Does she happen to be your sister?” I don't know why I bother to ask because they don't resemble each other. Maybe that woman is her friend?

She narrows her eyes again. “I'd have already punched your face if you had made my sister cry like that!”

“Then what's your problem, babe?” I smirk.

She rolls her eyes. “Did your parents not teach you how to treat a woman?”

“Wow!” I huff. I can't believe she just insulted my innocent parents over this. “Keep my parents out of this, woman. You're hot, but you don't have to drag my parents into my business. You don't have any right to insult them. Who are you anyway? I don't need advice on how to fuck women. I haven't heard any complaints from anyone I've fucked so far. I've only heard them screaming my name, over and over, more times than I can count.”

Her mouth gapes open. I want to bite those lips until I draw blood. I don't realize that I'm already biting mine.

“Who are you?”

“None of your business. I don't just give my name to strangers, especially not to someone like you!” She crosses her arms over her chest, giving me a better view of her tits.

“You mean someone handsome and hot?” Smirking, I cock a brow, pointing at myself. I don't know why, but I enjoy bickering with this hot piece of cantankerousness.

“I mean a dick!”

My lips spread into a dirty grin. “Hmm, you should see it for yourself, babe.”

Her eyes widen. I thought her face was red with anger before, but now it turns beet red. Her mouth forms an O shape.

“It wouldn't fit in there.” I point at her mouth.

She clamps it shut.

“Asshole!” She pushes me, and I stumble back.

“Whoa! Whoa! Woman, calm the fuck down!” I raise my hands to stop her.

“You're such a prick!” she screams, moving closer, then she hits my hand with her purse.

I groan in pain.

“A dick!” She strikes me again—harder this time—and something hard and cold, maybe metal, hits my cheek, making me wince in pain.

“I know! I'm well aware I have a dick. A huge dick!” I block her next strike, but then she suddenly stops. My hands are still up in the air in case she begins again.

What just happened?

“I hate you!” she spits.

A few seconds later, I hear her heels clicking into the distance.

“I could sue you, woman!” I yell, lowering my arms slowly.

“Good luck, man-whore!” she yells back.

“Nice ass, by the way!” I shout as I watch her walk away, swaying her hips seductively. She's doing that on purpose because she's noticed me glancing at her ass. Her fine ass.

Christ!

She holds her middle finger up in the air. Instead of getting pissed, I burst into laughter.

You'll pay for that, woman!

***

It's already morning, but my brain is still fixated on my encounter with that hot brunette. I sit on a stool at my bar without uttering a word. One of my bartenders, who also happens to be my friend, places a glass of whiskey in front of me.

I mutter a thanks. Kylan turns to place the bottle back on the rack. He picks up a damp cloth then stops, leans his elbows on the counter, and scans my face.

“What happened there?” he asks with curiosity. “I didn't take you for a pain freak. Did you have kinky sex with that blonde?”

I pick up the glass he poured, swirling it gently. I lift the glass to my nose, savoring the smokiness of the neat whiskey. I drain it into my mouth in one gulp, wincing when it reaches my throat.

“I didn't have kinky sex,” I answer calmly.

“Got in trouble, then? Hughes, you could've called me if you needed help.”

“Kylan, you've known me for a while now. I've never been in a fight, have I?”

“Do you want another?”

I shake my head.

“Need ice for that?”

I shake again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

My lips spread into a smile. My mind goes back to that fiery brunette.

“Is it a woman?”

I arch my brow. “Since when did you become so nosy?”

He laughs. “So, it is a woman, huh? What did you do to piss her off enough for her to give you that damn bruise?” He points at my left cheek and shakes his head in amusement.

If only he knew how hot she is…

“I don't have any idea why she's pissed at me. She just appeared out of the blue, questioned me, then hit me on my damn face.”

“Wow! She sure is something!” Kylan laughs.

“You have no idea, and she's hot! Like flaming hot!” I use two fingers to draw her body shape in the air.

He leans his back against the liquor rack, crossing his arms over his chest. “But you didn't bang her?”

Sighing out of frustration, I reply, “I doubt I'll ever see her again.”

“You will, and when you do, you can spank her as punishment,” he snorts and adds, “Nobody says no to Pyke Hughes.”

“She's not the type I usually bang, Kylan. She's a brunette,” I say, pursing my lips.

“She's what?”

My head snaps up. His eyes narrow at me. Before I can say something, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Pressing his phone to his ear, he speaks, “Hey, Cam, are you already home?”

He mutters a 'hmm' at her response.

“Can I bring you something before I head out?”

I try to listen, but I can't hear the voice on the other line.

Since when did I become so interested in other people's conversations?

“No, no, it's okay. I'll be home soon. I'm still with my boss. We need to talk, Cam,” he says firmly. His features turn serious.

Who's this Cam?

“Okay, bye.” He slips his phone back into his jeans' pocket. “Sorry about that. It was my cousin, Cam.”

“Why don't you bring your cousin here?” I suggest.

“She was here earlier,” he says casually.

“She?” I ask in disbelief almost immediately.

“Yeah, my cousin Camila.”

“Camila,” I mutter under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Seconds later, his eyes are still on me.

“What? Did you develop a crush on me now, Kylan? Anyway, are you going to be at your shop tomorrow?” He also works at a tattoo shop during the day.

“Do you want a tattoo?”

“No, I want an Ape.”