Lahat ng Kabanata ng Nextdoor Hotties : Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

Cold sweat breaking out of her pores Bailey slowly raised her head to meet the sight of a grinning lady with taut cheekbones. Clad in a loose robe—similar to hers—the weak strands of her gray hair gummed to her forehead as a result of perspiration. She seemed like an aged ghost that Bailey instinctively cowered from. “You?” Turning to the middle-aged lady, he pulled his finger out of Bailey's core. In turn, she quickly drew her thighs together, cheeks reddening as the lady raised a brow in entertainment. “Yeah. It's me, rascal. Want to get out of here or continue pawing the poor girl's coochie?” She asked, her eyes flickering between both of them with her arms akimbo. Immediately Joel's lips curled up in the corner with disgust as he assessed her. “Managed to get some coke in your dream?" Joel asked dryly watching the the lady scrunch her face up confusedly. "You mean coke as in coca-cola? No I don't want a drink, I wanna help- "We're fine." Joel cut her off. “No,

Mumbling sounds of protest escaped her lips as she squirmed, but the sharp stare he sent assured her he wasn't ready to back down. “Check the other rooms and get them before the boss finds out!” The same voice from earlier barked an order, and Bailey's muscles stiffened. “If at all you wanna die, not where I live.” He muttered, slightly releasing her. At his words, the missing puzzles of his sudden concern for her flipped back in position. Of course, that was it, what had she been thinking? If anything were to happen to her, he'd be held responsible by her dad, who was keeping his eyes peeled for his slightest mistake in order to throw him behind bars. At least that was what her mom seemed to think. Knowing her dad, he wasn't past that. “I should have known what a sneaky bastard you are. Running around to save your ass like a coward.” She insulted, watching the colors of his iris grow darker and cold as his jaw tightened up. “Repeat that again and you're gonna regret

In a split moment, the whole image of Bailey kicking her feet in the air as she was being pulled along by two burly, statured men only zinged in his head until the impact came. It was in the form of a sharp strike against his jaw, which had him staggering backward in an attempt to stable his feet as the pain throbbed in his pulse. Then another one, this time he almost lost his balance but backed against the wall, his head bowed as he groaned, holding onto his jaw. “Running around and shagging your cunt like we’re playing fucking games with you. Are we?!” A harsh tone he recognized as Scarface's roared, delivering a punch again. Whether out of frustration of not being able to knock him out or not, he gathered Joel's collars up, tightening his grip around him. In the meantime, Joel's only visceral knowledge of being hit was the ache in his jaw as he looked up at Scarface with heavy eyelids, the warm trickle of blood running down his jaw in evidence. “Let's talk it out withou

Irrespective of the fact that he was a spineless coward, she'd have kept her cool if he hadn't said anything like that, but he did, and to her face. Without thinking twice, she stepped down from the table, her fist balled and the tightness in her chest causing a painful ache in there while she blindly approached him with tears clouding her eyes. She'd do this one thing, then take a bullet and breath her last rather than let him walk all over her. “Hey. Get back on the table!” Scarface thundered, spinning the revolver in between his fingers to aim it threateningly at her. But her mind was far gone from the terror of getting killed as she lunged at Joel, his brows wrinkling when she raised her arm then allowed it come down on him in a resounding smack, and at the same time, double sounds of gunshots echoed in the air. Unable to fathom if it was as a result of her striking him or the gunshot, she froze to her spot. As in the blink of an eye Joel was lying on the floor, blood

“Oh my goodness, you motherfucker.” She cussed, getting used to the fullness inside her as it expanded her walls. Biting her lower lips, she slowly rocked her hips, getting in touch with the rhythm of their movement. “I want that soft meat slapping down my cock, sugar girl, like a motherfucker. My own, motherfucker.” He sassed, repeating her favorite slang word as he flattened his palm against the walls, giving her the free rein as usual. Moreover, stimulation came with Joe's trust, the carnal type of trust that encouraged her to take him however she wanted and bring him to his zenith. The trust that made her core tighten up at the sensation of being in charge of his orgasm at that moment. Digging her nails into his wound, she kept eye contact with him as his jaw went rigid with the sting of her touch, and she started moving up and down at a slow, unhurried pace. Meanwhile, continuous sounds of moist skin mashing together emitted in the atmosphere as her luscious thighs sl