Iron Sinners, страница 1
By HJ Bellus
Copyright © 2014 by HJ Bellus. All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: May 2014
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
To all the hearts who dared to be brave, but were only shattered on their journey. Here's hoping you have a Grizz in your life to pick you back up & heal all your broken pieces.
Table of Contents
Sometimes there are not lessons to be learned or a moral of a story to cherish, but rather moments experienced with eyes and hearts wide open for the good, bad and ugly events that shape us. Our story was never destined to have a moral or any grand lessons to better you as a human being, rather it was painfully and dangerously exposed bit by bit.
It has been over six years since I last laid eyes on the most gorgeous woman God put on this Earth. It sounds cliché and all romantic, but it’s the fucking truth. When I first met her, I despised her preppy, downright bitchy persona in her tailor-made heels and suit.
I could have gagged her and popped her in the skull with a fucking bullet without thinking twice…that was until I laid eyes on her. Like an asshole, I listened to my heart, threw her in the fucking trunk, and ventured on the fight of my life to save her from the inevitable doom facing her, of course with just the tiny hope of my cock sinking deep in her before we had to part ways. Like Mayor, our Prez, always says, ‘no motherfucking witnesses or I’ll shove my cock so far up your ass you’ll wish you were dead.’
They say the open road is the only poison a biker needs with a little mixture of pussy and booze along the way, but that ideal fucked-up tale is completely wrong.
I need her and the open road. Without her, the road is just another endless prison set out to destroy me. Her on the back of my bike as my old lady is all I need for the rest of my days on this Earth. As long as these black boots hit the pavement, she will be by my side, I don’t care if I have to kidnap her again and gag her every time I claim her as mine. I will not walk away from my girl again.
Five long motherfucking years in the state pen have taught me one thing. Without the love of Piper Jones, I am not a biker, nor a man, just a fucking drunken hopeless shell of a person. Piper will be mine again…just you wait and see.
Six Years Earlier
“Jesus fucking Christ, Miranda, is it that hard to email the damn PowerPoint? I understand you may be happy living and working as a minimum wage secretary for the rest of your days, but I’m not. Send it now. You have two minutes or you’re fired.”
I don’t have the actual authority to fire the piece of shit worker, but she doesn’t know any better and I guarantee I’ll have the necessary files within three minutes.
Fuck, the girl doesn’t want to lose her partying money for Friday night. Little shit ass snots like her only work for one reason, party money. Like OMG for beer money and clothes. I couldn’t care less about little fuckers like this as long as they do their job for me and stay clear of my way on my path to the top.
Me: Thomas, you going to take the deal?
Thomas: Marry me, and it’s all yours
Thomas: That means yes. You will do anything for this big office
Me: You’re right. I’ve been sucking your dick for years
Thomas: CEO Piper Nicholson sounds amazing
Me: I won’t take your last name
Thomas: You will & I can’t wait for you to get home. Close the deal, baby.
Me: What if I have to suck Mr. Masonite’s cock?
Thomas: suck & swallow, Piper, it has gotten you this far
“Ms. Piper Jones, Mr. Masonite is ready to see you,” a chipper voice rings out.
Rising to my feet, I prepare for the biggest, most crucial meeting of my life. I’ve fought hard to get where I am. I have not only fought hard, but dirty and downright evil at times. I learned at a very young age that nice girls never win. They end up in a deep grave, alongside their executioner. Yes, I’m not proud of the way I’ve made it here, but the only thing that matters is that I am here.
Most confuse my overflowing confidence as being a bitch, but if you want to get anywhere in life, you have to own it. Own every action right down to the core. The day I make partner CEO at Nicholson & Associates will be the day I know that everything in my life has been worth it.
Starting from the ground up, living in my car, going to college, and then working up the firm from the very bottom. The others I’ve left behind in my wake, I couldn’t care less about. Some call it coincidence, others may refer to it as copying or cheating, I like to call it the game of winning, and at this moment I’m kicking ass.
“Mr. Masonite, so nice to finally meet you,” I coo, as I stand proudly before his desk.
I tip over to expose just enough of my flesh to perk up his attention. This man is going to be one tough cookie to break, through. James Masonite is the man of all men in the marketing industry. He’s been threatening to retire for years, and sell off all his shares of the company to the highest bidder, and that’s where I come in. All I have to do is hand over Masonite Inc. to Thomas, marry him, and then reign as the motherfucking queen of all queens in marketing. Being at the top is what I yearn to achieve, and then dominate everyone in my life like the stumbling fools they are. Just a matter of days now until it all falls into place.
“Well, Ms. Jones, Thomas wasn’t over exaggerating one ounce about you.”
“Mr. Masonite, you are too kind, and please call me Piper.”
“Piper, take a seat and get comfy, my sweet dear.” He gestures with his hand.
The old fool sitting in front of me has no idea how much I despise being called demeaning terms. If I could, I’d take his words and jam them right back up his ass sideways, I wouldn’t even think twice. It is pompous jackasses like him that only fuel my fire to work and fight harder for what I desire. The one saving grace about Masonite is his looks. He’s what I classify a silver fox. Hot as hell for his age. Built solid, salt and pepper colored hair, more salt than pepper, and just enough gruff in his voice and mannerism to make any aged woman feel special. If worse comes to worst, he’ll be one easy ride.
“Quite the gentleman, sir,” I quietly purr, and then wink.
“You came for my company.” He gets right to the point.
“Yes. I’m here to seal the deal with the most amazing collaboration our industry has ever seen. Masonite and Nicholson will forever be known as the domineering leaders in the industry. You will simply be a legend, Sam.” I pause and take in the satisfied look on his face.
“I can assume that it is all right to call you Sam, correct?” I ask.
“Piper, I’m getting the odd feeling you may have all the charm to call me anything you want.”
“Well, then, Sam, let’s talk numbers.”
“Numbers are no fun, Piper,” he says as he gets up from behind his desk, making his way to me.
I choose to sit back in my chair, waiting for his next action. The mood in the room shifts quickly from the uneasiness of first meeting to a thickening need for lust. Of course, only the end prize dangles in front of me, for Sam though, he is definitely thinking with his dick. He leans on the front of his desk, kicking his long lean legs out in front of me. He wedges one foot between my red Pradas, spreading them to make way for him. The slight movement with his foot speaks grand gestures as to what it’s going to take to seal this deal.
“We need numbers, Sam, to move forward. Of course, if that’s what you are wanting, to move forward with Nicholson,” I purr once again, and drag my one foot up the inside of his leg.
Sam loosens his tie, and then reaches out his hand, and this is the moment that I know for certain that I have sealed the deal with Masonite. Nothing can walk through that door now to stop this merger. He is mine, all mine. With a sly smile covering my face, I generously take his hand, and allow him to lift me up out of my seat.
“Numbers,” I whisper.
I rethink my first impression of Sam. He is hot. Actually motherfucking gorgeous for a man in his late fifties, which will make nailing this addition for Thomas so much easier, and hella fun at that.
Sam wraps his arms around me tightly and rests them on my lower back, nudging my body to relax into his.
Dropping his head to one side, he whispers into my neck, “Numbers later. Taste test now. Deal?”
He gently glides his tongue very slowly from the bottom of my ear lobe down to my collarbone. A slow, but steady light groan escapes me as he works me over with his tongue, and in one swift movement he whirls me around, laying me back on his desk, spreading my legs wide. My very little black dress allows this maneuver with ease, and I melt into his desk. I can feel Sam lower himself onto me with his mouth. His hot breath forces me to straighten up and watch him as he goes to work on me. Soon I feel his fingers working in me, and then I notice a man standing in the corner.
I instantly recognize him as Bradley Williamson, Sam’s left hand man, bound and determined to keep the company. Word on the street is Bradley is involved in every aspect of the business, and with each lick I feel Sam take, Bradley strokes his exposed cock, painting the picture very clearly how integral of a part Bradley truly is.
Numbers run through my mind mixed with the offer Thomas sent me to lay on the table, but the only number throbbing in the fore front of my mind is two. Two eager suits to peel off, two businessmen to persuade, and two very hard cocks to please. Then the number one flashes brightly in my mind as Sam threatens to tip me over the edge as he pushes another finger in me. I have one mission, one goal, and there’s one me to thoroughly fuck these men, and buy this company all in a weekend business trip.
“Numbers,” I breathlessly pant.
Ignoring my attempt at closing the deal, Sam pounds me harder with the combination of his mouth and fingers.
“Numbers. Fuck, I’m going to go,” I moan.
I allow myself to fall over the edge of ecstasy, grabbing Sam by the back of the head and shoving him further into my pussy.
“Numbers. I need two cocks right now, and don’t you fucking dare tell me not to talk numbers right now.”
Sam rises from between my legs with a huge grin plastering his face covered in my juices. Unable to resist my urge, I sit forward and lick my flavor from his face. It is all about power, and right now I am in full control of this situation. I reach down, unzip Sam, and pull his cock from his pants. With one final bite to his bottom lip, I lay back, taking him with me, and guide him straight into me. Sam sinks in easily with a low, satisfied grunt as he fills me.
“Condom,” he whispers, as he slowly begins to fuck me.
“No condom. Fuck me now and Bradley, come fuck my mouth.”
Bradley is instantly straddling my chest and fucking my mouth, thrusting his cock rapidly in and out. My gagging sounds only fuel his fire. Sam pounds my pussy, and I focus on the true prize here; power, control, and freedom.
Fuck! You would think after living with a certain disease your whole life you would be prepared for any situation. My one weekend business trip to finalize and put the final nail in the coffin for the biggest acquisition in marketing history has turned into a seven-day trip, and I now find myself clean out of insulin. I’m an evil magician in the business world, but can’t handle the simple things in my life.
I learned how to survive at a young age on my own. Life has taught me one thing…own it. Own everything you want. My glass is always half full. Even when I was living in a car and blowing johns to get enough money for my next meal, it was always half full. I set goals and never lost sight of the prize. Some may argue that I don’t deserve the final prize, but I’ve worked just as hard as the next person. I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, no, rather I worked my ass off to place that motherfucking silver spoon there. My haters think I’m a materialistic bitch and my admirers recognize me as a prideful snob with high ambitions in life; and I for one have no problem letting these fools believe whatever they want because I’m winning this game because no one will ever see the broken former foster child.
“Ma’am. Can I help you?” A voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Are you talking to me?” I ask, mystified.
The best part of playing my game of charades is that I get to let my inner bitch out every once in awhile. Especially in a town where no one knows me, or would think twice about the business lady dressed to the nines acting like a hood rat.
“For your information, my name is Piper, or Ms. Jones to you, Pharmacist Dwayne. Call me ma’am one more time, and I’ll cut both your nut sacks off and neatly place them in your wife’s purse for you, understood?”
“Here’s your meds,” is all he says as he slides over the package and scrambles back to the endless shelves of white boxes with colorful labels.
Enough insulin in hand to last a few days, I go in search of a few snacks. I was born with Type 1 diabetes and have never known another lifestyle. My mom always made sure that I was treated just like any other child at school, and ensured I never felt left out of any typical activities.
Yes, she sure did her job of protecting and educating me on never allowing a disease to become a road block to achieving anything I desire in life, but I lost my mom when I was seven. I will never forget her motto, “Dress up, show up, and never give up, li’l sis.” She was a spitfire, little red headed gal, who would take on anyone, especially if they messed with her only child, me.
My father, who then took his own life and left me sitting in their pools of mingled blood, shot my mom. My life was perfect until that day, and that is the precise moment my life changed forever. A flurry of cops, FBI agents, and numerous counselors flooded my life for the next year or so until I finally landed in the foster system.
Going from foster home to foster home and then finally to the streets taught me two very valuable lessons. One, I will never be homeless or poor again, and, two, I will never have my own children. Ever. At first, people think I’m a snob with a silver spoon in my mouth, and I’m totally okay with that because that is the persona I have fought with every fiber of my being to achieve. I want success and will stop at nothing to achieve it.
My phone alerts me to a call with my signature ringtone, “Cold Hard Bitch.” Thomas’ name blinks across the screen and I smile brightly, knowing that I have succeeded, and I’ll be handing him the largest marketing company tomorrow morning after Mr. Masonite signs the contracts. Thomas promised me a big diamond and his last name if I can make this all work out.
“Thomas,” I purr.
“Piper, how the fuck are ya?”
He’s been drinking. His voice says it all. Thomas is quite the alley cat when liquored up, and I’ve profited from this state on more than one occasion. He’s very free with his money and body parts when he’s drunk.
“I’m good. Sounds likes you’re terrific.”
“Holy hell, yes. I have a hot little blonde that I’m about to get my freak on with. You have any news for me?”
“You will own Masonite Marketing Inc. by 9 a.m. tomorrow.”
“Fuck, Piper. I do love you.”
“You don’t love me. You need me, and I’m okay with that,” I say.
“You’re right. Need and love—what’s the difference, really?”
“Go have fun, Thomas. I’ll call you in the morning.”
Hanging up my phone, I giggle to myself, imagining Thomas in full glory with his blonde friend. Thomas and I are basically perfect for each other. Neither of us want, nor need love. We both earnestly desire power, success, and money. Together we’re a dynamic powerhouse set out to rule every aspect of marketing; separate we’re just two more hungry villains fighting to be on top. The day we unite, we will have it all.
Feeling a little victorious and celebratory, I decide to ask the cashier where to celebrate a victory that has the potential to change your life forever. The young male cashier would surely have all these answers.
“Fifty-two dollars and sixty-two cents is your total.”