Chapter Text
V took a moment to cast a sweeping glance around the bar. Lot of corpo-looking folk out tonight. She couldn't remember which bar she'd settled on in the end. She couldn't go to Coyote Cojo, too much like home. And she didn't go to the Afterlife tonight, concerned she might be developing a reputation.
The Merc Who Fucks Mercs.
She had at least been selective about who she took to bed, but there were a lot of mercs who fit the bill for her, and recently when she descended the stairs into the former morgue, she felt a little too watched. Hopeful eyes followed her through there, even when she was clearly dressed for merc work. Tonight, she was looking for fresh meat. Sure, Tiny Mike was a good sport for her usual fare, but she craved the excitement of a brand new victim. Johnny decided to chime in as she scanned the booths towards the back of the bar.
'Ooooh, V, who's tonight's poor, unfortunate soul gonna be?' He practically sang. He enjoyed this passtime of hers more than she'd expected. Then again, he'd had a reputation for dominating men and women alike in his lifetime, 'And don't you forget it - playing this game with you feels like passing on the torch, and so far you've done me proud, kid'
'Thanks, Johnny,' She thought, glancing at his holographic image in the mirror behind the bar, 'I was playing this game long before you were inside my head though, not exactly craving your approval over here,'
'Oh I know V. You crave the blood of innocents, the music they make when you're on top of 'em and they're beggin' you for release, and how could I not approve of that?' They shared a brief smile across the bar. She was glad Johnny understood the kick she got out of taking a man home, only to watch him crumble with the realization that she was in total control of everything. If her lover for the night thought he was going to bend her over, he had another thing coming. Half the time, she didn't even let them enter her, and they never saw her come undone. The special ones might be allowed a taste, and the really special ones might get the luxury of her mouth - she and Tiny Mike had certainly tasted plenty of one another.
Tonight, though, she wanted someone brand new. Someone she could bring to his knees with just her voice. She'd approached several possibles already, but none of them were up to snuff. Too young, too eager, not nearly eager enough, too skinny, and too handsy, respectively. She wasn't deterred, however, she knew she'd find the right match in this bar, in this dress.
It was completely backless, with a halter neckline and a scoop neck that exposed a tasteful amount of cleavage. The hemline sat just above her knees, enough to make her look enticing, but not so much that she looked easy. The pale iridescent fabric was perfect in the low lighting of the bar, V felt like an expensive fish in some Araska bastard's luxury aquarium. She'd completed the look with some matching iridescent lines across the peaks of her cheekbones and the arch of her eyebrows. At the thought of her makeup, V returned her gaze to the mirror behind the bar for a quick check-up.
Without Johnny's visage there, V accidentally made eye contact with someone's reflection. She automatically averted her gaze, before returning it to the man's image in the mirror. He stood across the room from her, looking intently in her direction. From the head and shoulders she could see, he was ticking a lot of boxes. A little bigger than she usually went for, but that sounded like a fun challenge right about now. He sported a shaved head, a single dangling earring, and a cybernetic eye. V decided to test the waters. She sat on her barstool and flexed her shoulders slightly, watching him in the mirror. Sure enough, his gaze shifted to watch the play of rippling skin and muscle on her exposed back when she stretched out, his eyes traveling up and down her back appreciatively.
Already, V was thinking this one might deserve a taste. She tried to picture how his earring would feel dangling against her inner thigh, what it would be like to drag her nails across that buzz cut. Would the metal eye scratch or catch at all? Would she like that?
'What about this one, Johnny?' She thought, craning her neck to get a better look at the man's reflection. He wore a skin tight, long-sleeved black compression top. Casual for a bar like this, but it did a great job of outlining bigger muscles than V was used to seeing outside of an Animal hideout. His right arm was at a relaxed right angle, cradling a beer in a large, metal hand.
'You thinkin' what those chrome digits might feel like in your hair?' Johnny contributed.
Well, now she was. What would those fingers feel like stroking her? Choking her? She shook her head, that wasn't on the agenda when she played this game, even if she was sometimes tempted when she was in the throes of her excitement. The whole point of her game was to regain some control over her shit show life, not hand control to someone else. She refocused, assessing the man in the mirror once more. His mismatched eyes were on hers again. This time, she held his stare through the mirror, the very edges of her mouth quirking up into the tiniest hint of a smile. To his credit, the man didn't change his stony, neutral expression at all. Maybe he would be a challenge to break down. Maybe she'd have to work really hard before he would beg. She had to know.
'He's the one, Johnny,'
'Alright, let's get this show on the road,' He clapped his hands together eagerly, 'Show him what it feels like to be completely at your mercy, V,'
Standing from her stool, V felt a warm wave wash over her as the man eyed her exposed back once again. She swiped her tongue over her teeth quickly and turned to face him. The full frontal view of him almost had her light-headed. He was taller than she'd thought, even leaning against the wall as he was. In these particular heels, V was close to 6 foot, meaning this guy had to be comfortably over that to still stand above her. Beyond the undeniably beautiful symmetry of his high cheekbones, well-defined brows, plump lips, and uniquely appealing ears, the confidence he exuded was like an invisible tether commanding her closer. V approached him, almost against her will. His eyes fell to her heeled feet, slowly raking upward until they were eye-to-eye again. She paused for a moment when they were about a foot apart, letting the energy between them stir and settle.
"Hi," She smiled a demure, disarming smile at him - she liked to save her full grin for sealing the deal. He remained stoic, "Name's V,"
V held her hand out to him for a moment, but he made no motion to take it, only looked at it. She returned it to her side after a few seconds, her confidence suddenly faltering a little. Taking in his face, he seemed to be weighing up whether he wanted to talk to her at all.
"Jamie," He replied. The way he wavered before speaking, combined with how unnatural he sounded, made her suspect this was not his real name. No matter, she didn't need his real name for the game to work.
"So, Jamie," She emphasized his name and gave him a pointed expression, as if to say, I know that's not your name, in fact, I know everything, I hold all the cards here, "What do you do? You some kind of model?"
He scoffed and looked to the floor, shaking his head seemingly in disbelief that she could ask such a question. V raised her eyebrows at him. Did he think she was joking? With his looks and his authoritative aura, she assumed he must have a job that feeds the ego. When he didn't answer, she spoke again, a little harsher this time.
"Did I stutter?"
That got his attention back to her face.
"You're serious?"
"Am I laughing?" She smiled coyly, bringing the charm back to her voice. She made a half-step towards him and leaned her weight to one hip to bring them a little closer.
"Sorry," He briefly moved his hands to show her his palms in an 'I surrender' motion, his metal claw still gripping the neck of his beer bottle, "Didn't mean to offend you. You come on this strong with all your marks or am I special?"
What?
'Is this guy onto us, V?' Johnny piped up.
'I have no idea what's happening,' She replied, suddenly feeling exposed and embarrassed. Did this guy know about her game? She'd definitely never come across him before. What if she knew someone he knew? A brother, a roommate, a colleague. Oh look out for that V chick, she's a maneater. Maybe she had a reputation beyond the familiar comfort of the Afterlife. She knew things would only get worse if she didn't speak soon.
"My marks?"
"Whatever you wanna call 'em," He remarked casually, shrugging, "So far I've counted five unlucky men who'll surely notice they're missing their wallets and watches come tomorrow morning. You're making quick work of this spot,"
Did this fucking gonk think she was some petty pickpocket?
Her confidence regained, and her ego somewhat bruised, V knew it was time to turn the tables.
"You been watching me all night?"
She saw him falter just a tiny fraction at the question, his beer arm sagging slightly. Something distant in his eye conveyed the smallest hint of embarrassment, possibly even shame if she squinted hard enough.
"Been watching in general," He gestured his beer at the bar, trying to be dismissive, "You just happen to be very eye-catching,"
"Eye - singular - I presume?" She said in a monotone, briefly jutting her chin towards his implant. Suddenly, this guy's confident aura pissed her off, and she wanted nothing more than to bring him down several pegs. His expression somehow turned colder than it had been when he looked at her in the mirror.
"What do you do? You some kind of comedian when you're not liftin' from folks in bars?" He scoffed at her sarcastically, rolling his good eye.
"Cute," She replied dryly.
"I try," Everything about this asshole screamed not interested, and yet the more they spoke the more she wanted to win him over. To bring this stubborn bastard to his knees? That would be a night to remember. She switched tactics, forcing him to decide if he was interested in a conversation.
"Well, I can tell I'm bothering you, so I'll leave you be," She turned to leave, only making it a single step away before his hand, a real flesh hand, she noticed, was on her forearm.
"Wait," His grip was firm and hot on her skin. His voice was tight, almost demanding instead of the pleading she preferred to hear. Still, she smiled to herself for her first little victory before turning to him with an icy indifference on her face.
"What?" She wore practiced irritation in her features, internally savoring the apologetic look on his face.
"Sorry," He said it like it hurt to admit. His jaw was tight and she briefly considered reaching out to caress the taught muscles there. Her legs were starting to tingle from how uncomfortable she was making him.
"Sorry?" She feigned disinterest, ignoring the pulsing heat radiating from his huge hand still on her forearm, the grip more gentle now.
"I know I was bein' an ass. Sorry," Oh god, he even looked sheepish. V was nearly light-headed with desire, desperate to make him blush if she could. She threw him a bone, hoping to hook him in more.
"You can make it up to me by buying me a drink," She smiled again, briefly casting a glance up and down his figure. Now that he stood straight, he was easily 6'4 or 6'5, and she made sure to look up at him through her eyelashes. Her eyes lined up with his chin, making it all too easy to look once more at his full lips. He might have had the nicest mouth she'd ever seen. Once again, she pictured him between her thighs, lips and tongue attentively seeing to her needs. His metal hand could probably hold her down to keep her still. No. That wasn't the point of the game. She had to be in control. He interrupted her tumultuous reverie, snapping her attention back to his eyes.
"No can do I'm afraid. Ain't in the habit of buyin' drinks for thieves," Just like that, the endearingly apologetic tone was gone and the sense of smug superiority returned.
"That so?" She reverted back to her unimpressed voice, already regretting giving him an inch. She shrugged his hand off her arm, "Too bad, maybe next time,"
Her tone conveyed the message that no, there would in fact not be a next time. Not for this asshole. He nearly had her with his puppy dog face, but all this pickpocket shit was ridiculous. It was so far beneath her that if that's what he saw, then so was he. This gonk couldn't reach her level even with half a foot and at least fifty pounds on her. Once again, she turned to leave, moving quicker this time to give him less chance to catch her. She could hear him ditch his beer, making a move to follow her as she headed for the exit.
Just as she was about to ascend the steps towards the bar's main doors, his thick arm stuck out across the path in front of her, effectively blocking the exit. He moved his arm around her and placed his hand on the small of her bare back, gently turning her to face him. Her skin felt like it was on fire where he was touching it. Nobody touched her like this, not without pleading and begging, sometimes crying. Sometimes not even then.
'C'mon V,' Johnny protested, 'Gonk doesn't get to get away with touching you without asking. Break his fucking fingers so he needs another metal hand,'
V didn't answer him. She couldn't answer him. Her mind had gone completely blank. The only sensation that got through to her was the feeling of his fingertips on her skin. She liked it. She wanted to step closer to him, pull his hand closer, pull away entirely and sprint into the night. In the midst of her crossed wires, she hadn't realized he was looking at her with concern.
"V?" Her name in his voice broke through the static in her mind and she crashed back into reality with the grace of a broken S.C.S.M.
"Hm?" Was all she could muster. Pathetic.
"You froze there for a sec, you alright? Look, I'm sorry about the pickpocket stuff - I promise you're not in trouble or anything," He smiled jokingly and she definitely felt something stirring at the sight of a smile, but V was still completely lost. Why would she be in trouble? What was this gonk talking about? Why did she suddenly feel desperate to make this man tell her she was in trouble and he was going to punish her? Her cheeks flushed, accidentally encouraging him to continue his playful ribbing, "So long as you return everybody's valuables, of course,"
"What are you talking about?" Her internal monologue slipped out in a moment of shame-induced weakness as she did nothing but stare at his lips. He laughed. It was a good sound.
"C'mon, it's alright, I'm not gonna arrest you, promise,"
Before she could question him even more - hell, before she could get caught up in the implications of how being handcuffed by this man might make her feel - a back door to the bar burst open behind him, inviting a small posse of Tyger Claws into the space. Each was armed with either a katana or a sawed-off shotgun, seemed like this was a planned hit on the bar during peak corpo hours.
In milliseconds, entirely too much became clear to V. 'Jamie' removed his hand from her back, much to her dismay, and turned to become a blockade between her and the gangers. She saw the holster at the base of his back as he reached behind himself and pulled the revolver out. She saw him point it at the Tygers. At the same time, she saw several other 'patrons' of the bar raising weapons - a prepared operation. She knew what that meant. Before she had even a moment to pretend it meant something else, she heard him call out across the bar.
"NCPD, drop your weapons!"
FUCK.
Still pointing his gun at the Tygers, she saw him reach his left hand behind him, reaching for her, she realized. Like she was hypnotized, V took a half-step closer to him, into his reach, his hand making contact with her upper arm. He gently pushed her so she was completely shrouded by him, entirely out of sight of the Tygers. Was he trying to protect her? It was almost adorable, especially since he thought she was some small-time bar-hopping pickpocket. She almost laughed. She was so close to his back she could smell him. Why did he smell amazing? Like real leather and cotton and something woody and rich? Oh god, why was she sniffing him like a fucking drug dog? What was she still doing here? He was a fucking COP.
V took a quiet step back, glancing behind her to ensure the steps up to the bar's main entrance were clear. They were. Before she turned fully away from the mess of the bar, she heard his voice once more. He spoke quietly over his shoulder, speaking only to her. She couldn't fight the need to lean just a little closer to hear him clearly over the threats being thrown between the Claws and the other badges.
"V? You okay? You can wait for me outside, I'll come check on you when this is over." His voice seemed to carry genuine concern, speaking softly despite the madness unfolding in front of them. Against her better judgment, V reached out a hand, placing it flat on his shoulder blade as a kind of silent goodbye. The instant she removed it, she was overcome with shame and embarrassment.
He was a fucking COP.
She turned, taking the stairs two at a time even in her heels. When she pushed out of the bar door, the too-hot night air of the city hit her in the face, sobering and sickening. She started striding down the street, not sparing a moment to linger or look back at the bar's doors slowly closing. Johnny glitched in beside her on the sidewalk, keeping up with her flustered pace.
'Oh. My. God,' His tone was smug, his smile unbearably big. He slowly clapped his hands a few times in his glee, 'Boy, do you know how to pick 'em, V. A fucking cop!'
'Shut up,'
'And you were so into him too,' Johnny laughed, stumbling as he clutched his sides for a moment before jogging to catch up to her when she didn't slow, 'Are you a model?' He mocked a high-pitched, and inaccurate, facsimile of her voice.
'Shut. Up,'
'Night City's Finest, and you've got the scop-for-brains to ask if he was a fuckin' model,'
'I said shut the fuck up, Johnny!' She hissed, flicking her hair in his direction before bringing up her holo and scrolling through the contacts. She needed some comfort. Johnny kept laughing, relishing in her embarrassment. She briefly wondered if this was how some of her conquests felt when she gave them a pitying smile or laughed at their pleas. Worthless, shameful. Before the feelings could get a firmer grip on her, she reached the contact she was looking for and initiated the call.
He picked up before it reached the third ring. They'd developed a unique understanding over the months since she'd been sent to dig him out of his safehouse and bring him home. She still remembered his bloodied face and ruined arm; he was pretty, even whilst gory. They'd caught up over drinks in the Afterlife about a month later. Patched up, clean, and fresh-smelling, he'd suddenly become dizzyingly pretty in her eyes.
She remembered how she'd leaned across the table between them, watching him watch her shirt dip, exposing a clear view down the front of her cleavage. She'd reached her hand out to trace his new cyberware forearm with her fingertips. He'd shivered, shifting his eyes to hers, his lips parted in a way that begged for her attention.
Their first time had been messy, boozy fun. When she pulled his crop of blond hair he made a noise, part pain, part arousal, and she knew he would enjoy her game.
The night had ended with him shuddering, his throat bobbing painfully as she insulted him to his own finish line in her hands, her whispers as poisonous as they were irresistible.
Since then, they'd become well acquainted with each other's bodies. Usually, if she didn't feel like finding someone new, she'd play her game with Tiny Mike, and he never complained. The understanding they had was clear: if she sent a text, it was like a playful question.
Hey, would you like to be degraded into submission tonight, kind of deal. He was free to refuse if he was busy or not in the mood. If she called him, however, there was no refusal.
You have been summoned to accept your doom tonight, kind of deal.
"V," His raspy voice was like a balm for her embarrassment, his tone serious, awaiting his inevitable orders.
"You home right now?"
"No."
"Meet me out front of your building in the next ten minutes if you ever wanna eat my pussy again." She hung up as soon as she'd finished commanding him. Continuing her stride, she rounded the corner onto Tiny's street and came to a stop in front of his apartment building. Johnny glitched in in front of her.
'You just gonna run back to this gonk because of one little fuck up?' He crossed his arms as she rolled her eyes and pretended she was a normal person who didn't have a dead terrorist in her head and wasn't waiting for her booty call and certainly didn't get off on making men whimper and beg, 'I guess it wasn't that little of a fuck up. I mean, he was a fucking COP, and you were totally gonna give it all up and let him fuck you,'
'Was not,'
'Forget I'm in your head, ass? Could practically feel you creamin' your panties to the idea of him chokin' the life outta you with that metal gorilla hand while he fucks you like a bitch,'
V felt her face turn bright red and she turned to face away from Johnny, like that made any difference when he lived inside her head. His colorful description forced her to conjure the thus-far suppressed image of the cop above her, totally dominating her, and her loving it.
Not loving it in her usual, relishing-in-the-power and thriving-on-feeling-worshiped kind of way. More in like a feeling-vulnerable-but-safe and also a completely-letting-go kind of way.
Johnny appeared in front of her again, grimacing and waving his arm around as if trying to disperse the mental picture like a smoke cloud.
'That's embarrassing. Truly some shameful shit, V,' He shook his head disapprovingly, 'Thought you were better than that,'
'I am,' She brushed him off, pretending once again that he had no insight into her desires, 'Not stood outside that bar waiting for him to come check on me like some gonk civilian, am I?'
'No, you're stood outside some other building waitin' on some other asshole like some gonk civilian,'
'Why is Tiny an asshole? He plays the game well,'
'Whatever,' Johnny grumbled, 'Bored of seein' the way his mouth quivers when he's dyin' to come, I guess. Plus he clearly wants more than your dominatrix shit. Annoys me,'
'He's never asked for anything else,' She said defensively, not confident she understood Johnny's meaning.
'A relationship. Gonk,'
'Shut up,'
'Just wait. Bet he asks you to stay the night tonight,'
'He won't, and I wouldn't even if he did,'
'Sure, tell yourself that. Have fun.' He disappeared before she could retaliate, vanishing somewhere in the confines of her psyche. She paced for a while, trying to work off her embarrassment. Before her frustration could mount into much more, she heard heavy footsteps approaching at a sprint behind her. She turned to see Tiny Mike come to a stop in front of her, bending over to brace his hands on his knees and catch his breath. He had a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"Did you run here?" She asked, eyebrows raised.
"You said ten minutes," He said seriously by way of explanation. She checked her call log against her HUD.
"And yet, you took thirteen," She shrugged lightly, as if this bureaucracy would stop her from having her way with him.
"I was more than ten blocks away," He said incredulously between gulps of air. She reached a hand out to his bowed head, half-heartedly raking her blackened chromed fingers through the loose strands of his top knot. He looked up at her from beneath his eyelashes, his expression light and easy, the suggestion of a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
She brought her hand back as he stood straight again, still breathing heavily. In these shoes, they were roughly the same height, him maybe a fraction of an inch shorter. He cast his eyes over her appreciatively before commenting.
"I'm guessing you ain't dressed like that for me?"
"You don't like it?"
"Didn't say that," He scoffed, "Just not gonk enough to believe I'm that lucky,"
“Clever boy,” She commented, letting her fingers idly hook one of the belt loops on his cargo pants, “I was going to find fresh meat tonight, but some Tygers ruined my plans, so here I am,”
“I’ll have to write them a thank you note,” He mused, gaining a sternly quirked eyebrow and narrowed eyes from her.
“Don’t get cocky, Mike,” She gently tugged on the belt loop, drawing him closer to her. He took the initiative to place his hands on her hips, squeezing slightly and letting his cyber arm roam a little higher to the dip of her waist.
“Why not? Gonna punish me?” He drew his bottom lip into his mouth slightly, hissing an exhale as V brought a hand up the back of his neck and harshly tugged around the bun of his topknot. She pulled until his head was at an angle, presenting his chromed jaw to her mouth and exposing his throat. V fought the urge to bite him or lick his Adam’s apple here in the street.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She murmured deeply, already feeling her former embarrassment slipping away. Tiny Mike’s eyes fluttered shut and his grip on her tightened. She could see his jaw tremble slightly and it sent a rush of pleasure through her core.
“Yes, please,” He could barely get the words out, and she knew she wouldn’t have heard him if she was any further away. She guided him even closer by his hair, stepping into his space so his hands could slip around her back and down to her ass, squeezing generously. Her legs tingled as she pressed her lips just below his ear, feeling his pulse thrumming away.
“Then take me upstairs like a good boy,” V delighted in the heavy exhale he let out upon hearing her. She’d learned fairly quickly that, as much as Tiny liked being berated and punished by her, he also really liked praise. She was happy to tell him when he was good so long as he always understood that it was on her terms.
He’d not let her down yet.
She released his hair and removed his hands from her, prompting him to turn towards his apartment building and hold the door open for her. She said nothing to him between the main door and his apartment door, simply striding ahead of him and waiting impatiently at any doorway for him to trot around her and open it, including the elevator.
In her real life, V wasn’t like this at all. Petulant arrogance like this was better suited to a corpo bitch with a stick up her ass, and V didn’t like to think she was actually inconveniencing those around her.
However, this was her game, and V’s game was all about becoming someone she wasn’t for a night. When she was playing, or hunting as she and Johnny had come to refer to it, she was the empress of the whole world.
She hadn’t crawled up on the streets of Heywood like a stray dog, always searching for scraps, be it food, eddies, or shelter.
She hadn’t struggled her way to adulthood, always uncertain about what her future held, if her future even existed at all.
She hadn’t thoroughly lost herself in Atlanta just to come back to Night City, the inevitable center of her universe, with her tail between her legs.
She hadn’t turned to mercenary work as the only available option and she hadn’t befriended Jackie and she hadn’t followed him loyally into a death trap and she hadn’t watched him slip away in the backseat. She hadn’t.
No.
When V was hunting, she was the empress of the whole world and nothing bad had ever happened to her. Her head was high and her stride confident. She was a shimmering, glistening pearl in a world of neon and cheap plastic.
V shook her head briefly, shaking away the past and the reality of her life, and steeled herself with the superiority of her fantasy as the elevator door opened. Walking down the corridor toward Mike’s apartment, she came to a silent stop just shy of the entry pad, waiting for him to step around her a final time and allow them both access.
She didn’t thank him. He stood with his head quietly bowed as she slinked past him into the apartment.
“Can I offer you a drink?” He asked, closing the door behind him and waiting for a signal from her that he was allowed to move around.
“You got whiskey?” She turned her head slightly to look back at him over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” He took one step closer to her.
“You got bitters?” She placed a hand on her hip, canting more of her weight to one side.
“Sure,” Another step. He was right behind her. She felt his slow, heavy breaths on the back of her neck.
“Soda water?” She didn’t look him in the eye.
“Uh-huh,” He placed his hand, his real hand, on her unoccupied hip, gripping firmly and trying to pull her closer. She let herself sway backwards, her ass making contact with the firm bulge in the front of his pants. She leaned into him with a pleased hum, drawing out another hissed breath from the man.
“Make me an old fashioned,” She stepped away from his grasp and headed towards the apartment windows, adding over her shoulder, “And take your top off,”
He got to work straight away, unstrapping his usual ballistic vest and peeling off the gray t-shirt beneath, letting both items fall to the ground.
V heard him pace over to his drink trolley, clinking glasses and scooping ice out of a container. She didn’t look back at him, instead craning her neck to see if she could make out the bar from here. She’d heard the sirens, and she could see the flashing lights from the squad cars; they’d probably made a few notable arrests tonight. She wondered if her cop would be receiving any accolades for his work.
A hot tingle creeped up the back of her neck. Shame. Embarrassment. She couldn’t tell if it came from her or Johnny, somewhere in the depths of her mind. She couldn’t see the bar from here after all. The gentle tinkling of ice in a tumbler approaching her drew her attention away from the windows.
“For you,” Mike said, passing her the glass and watching as she took her first sip, waiting for her approval. She raked her eyes across the contours of his lean torso as she drank. It was a damn fine old fashioned.
“Thank you,” Her lips curled up into a small smile that didn’t reach her stern eyes and she saw his shoulders sag with the slightest relief, “You not drinking?”
“You think I should?” This was why she enjoyed Tiny Mike so much; he let her make every last decision. The entire world was hers when she played her game with him.
“No,” She said decisively, “In fact, I think you should sit down; you look a little hot still,”
He took a few steps backwards until the backs of his knees hit his couch, sitting down without ever letting his eyes leave her. She stepped toward him, taking another slow sip as she eyed him up and down.
“You know,” She began, slowly reaching her free hand up behind her neck to unclasp the halter neckline, “You do look awfully hot, Tiny. Still sweaty from your run?”
He nodded silently, taking in the sight of her as her dress fell to her waist. She watched his eyes fall to her tits and didn’t miss him swallow hard, his lips gently parting. Another step and she stood in front of him, his knees almost touching her. She held her glass out in a silent demand and he took it. A rush of excitement coursed through her when he made no motion to take a drink for himself. So obedient.
“Good boy,” Her voice was firm and smooth as she watched his eyelids flicker for a moment. A tiny bead of sweat rolled down the side of his forehead, trickling down his temple, his cheekbone, and dripping off his jaw, landing on the flat expanse of his bare chest. V could feel the tell-tale fluttering of her arousal in her lower abdomen and clenched her thighs together for some momentary relief.
She hooked her thumbs into the waistline of her dress and shimmied it down to the floor, stepping out of it and using a slim heel to send it across the floor behind her. Towering over the couch in her heels, V placed a foot on either side of Mike’s bent knees, revealing her choice to forego underwear for the night.
“God,” He let slip, leaning his head back against the couch to look her up and down, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. V raised a knee up beside his on the couch cushion, slowly pulling herself into his lap and straddling him. He made no move to touch her; he knew he would only be rewarded if he was good right now. She moved her hands to lie flat on his chest, leaning closer until her mouth was almost touching his.
“Are you still hot, Tiny?” She kept her voice low and deliberate. He nodded. V fished an ice cube out of the tumbler he still held and brought it to his mouth, “Lick it,”
Tiny Mike held her eye contact as he darted his tongue out to the ice cube. He used the broad flatness of his tongue to caress the sides of the cube, running over her fingers in the process. Just before he could close his lips around it, V pulled it away. She held it up for a moment, examining the streams of melting water already running down her forearm.
Gently, she held it over his collar bone, letting the drips fall to his skin. She watched him shiver under her and felt herself get wet at the sensation.
Sighing with delight, V trailed the ice cube slowly down Tiny Mike’s torso, making patterns with the cold water left in its wake. His breath hitched as she glossed it over his nipples, and then again when she pressed it a little firmer over the ridges of his abs. By the time the ice cube was brushing against his waistband, it was all but completely melted, only a small chip remaining.
V brought it to his parted lips, pushing it into his mouth with no resistance. He closed his lips around her fingers, sucking on them as she slowly pulled them free. V shifted forward in his lap, pulling their crotches together and grinding into him. The moment his mouth opened to groan, she pushed her tongue past his lips.
His mouth was cold from the ice, sending a shiver down her spine. She wrapped her hands around his neck, rolling her hips into him and feeling him vibrate with a low moan under her. His unoccupied hand tentatively came to rest on her hip. She allowed it, enjoying the cool feeling of the cybernetic digits slowly sinking into her skin.
Pulling back for breath, she let her head fall back as her hips kept rolling. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through the shaved hair at the back of his head. Between that shorn hair and his metal fingers, she could almost pretend she was somewhere else. There was the hot sting of the embarrassed shame again. The gentle clinking of the remaining ice cubes in the tumbler brought her back to the present.
V shuffled back on his lap so she straddled his thighs once more, removing the friction she knew he wanted on his crotch. She reached over to take her drink from his hand, savoring another languid sip as she absentmindedly trailed her other hand down his chest, using a single finger to trace the divots between his lean musculature. His heavily-lidded eyes watched her throat move as she slowly swallowed, his newly-empty hand coming to rest at the top of her thigh.
She slyly dipped her fingers into her glass, swirling it a couple of times to coat them, then pushed them past Mike’s lips, watching him taste the sweetness of the whiskey and the gentle fizz of the soda water. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking her fingers with such fervor as she eased them out of his mouth, pushing them back in, and out, and in again before a final retreat.
Tossing the last of her drink back, V fished out the last solid ice cube and placed the empty glass on the side table. Without the tinkling of liquor, the new silence hung easily between them as she watched him watching her. Gently, V traced the last ice cube along her collarbones, down to the peaks of her breasts, taking an extra few seconds to lavish the ice around each nipple.
She continued the trail down her abdomen, briefly dipping into her navel, and down to the soft, hot wetness of her pussy. She rose up on her knees above Mike’s lap, cradling the remnants of the ice cube around her swollen clit in slow circles. Her free hand came up to cup her breast, twirling her fingertips over one stiff, cold nipple as she hummed with satisfaction.
When the ice was all gone, she trailed wet fingers up Mike’s arm to the side of his neck. Leaning in, her wet breasts pressed to his flat chest and she slowly licked the shell of his ear. He shivered when she whispered her command.
“Lick it,”
Without hesitation, Tiny Mike’s tongue was trailing along V’s collarbones. He used his grip on her hips to hold her up higher, granting him clearer access to lick her breasts. He swirled his tongue over her nipples one at a time, probing and gently nibbling as she sighed at the sensation, digging her fingers into the taught skin of his shoulders. V pulled herself off of his lap, laying down on the couch beside him and spreading her arms over her head in a lazy stretch.
Mike moved with her, hovering over her on his hands and knees to lick the melted path down her stomach. He dipped his tongue into her navel and her breath hitched. The sound made him falter for a short moment before she brought a hand to his hair, encouraging him to continue. His mouth made its way to her inner thigh, teasing at the edges of her wetness. She shifted beneath him, getting closer to his face.
“Touch yourself,” She commanded hoarsely. He immediately freed his cock from his cargo pants and started a leisurely pumping pace. As he did so, he rested his weight on one elbow, slicking his tongue from her core to her clit. “Good boy,” She hissed through her teeth at the sensation, gripping his hair firmly.
Mike whimpered and his pace quickened, not only on his own member but against her sex too. His tongue laved around her slick clit, sucking and pressing with fantastic pressure. V felt herself rapidly unwinding, pushing her hips up and grinding her soaking cunt against his face. She could feel the tension in his arm as he pumped faster and faster, his cock twitching and hard as it made contact with her leg. She moaned loudly into the relative quiet of the room as she felt pleasure unfurling from her core down the length of her legs.
“Good boy,” She sighed, tugging on his hair and relishing the rumble from his throat as it vibrated in her folds, “Don’t come, Tiny. I want you to touch yourself while I come on your face. You are not allowed to come, do you understand?”
She felt him nodding against her, not relenting the movements of his tongue or his hand. She surged closer to her release.
“Good,” She could feel him holding himself back, waiting to hear what she knew he desperately wanted to hear again already. She grinned to herself, the whole world was hers, “Good boy,” There it was, and he was moaning and whimpering and pushing her over the edge into her orgasm, pumping his hand violently along his throbbing length.
V felt herself spasming and twitching under his tongue, schooling her face into a restrained expression and tilting her neck back so he couldn’t see her pleasure. Her mouth hung open in a silent, choked reverie of self-restraint as her muscles tensed and relaxed in pulsing waves.
She forced herself to come around quickly, not wanting to linger on the sensation in his presence. V pushed on Tiny Mike’s chest, pushing him back up to a seated position and following to perch herself beside him on the couch. His hand slowly came to a stop on his cock, anticipating that she would tell him what she wanted next.
She took a few seconds to admire how it weeped, dribbling desperately from the head and trickling down his rigid length. V reached a single finger out, tracing the throbbing line of a prominent vein up the side of his dick. She tapped on the frustrated reddened head and felt a rush of predatory glee as his whole body twitched at the feeling.
Swirling a thumb over the head, she took inventory of his quaking jaw, the way his eyes screwed shut, the relentless bobbing of his throat as he tried to steady his breathing.
He was helpless.
V settled in beside him, gently resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. She let her fingers trail up and down his thigh, stroking the fabric of his cargo pants.
“Take these off,” She ordered, watching as he rapidly hoisted himself completely free of the rest of his clothes in a matter of thirty or forty seconds. When he repositioned to their seated arrangement, she reached a hand down to cup his balls in a feather-light touch. V let her head fall back against the couch to get her lips closer to his ear, whispering, “Touch yourself. I want to watch you come all over yourself for me like a desperate, dirty, dog.”
His clenched fist was pumping at lightning speed with a noisy, slick rhythm immediately, his heavy breaths and moans completing the sordid symphony. V’s gentle caresses quickly became firmer and firmer, eventually squeezing with consistent pressure as Mike’s breath hitched. He stalled, his jaw tightening, and she took in the sight of cum streams hitting his washboard abs with hungry eyes.
While Tiny was still coming down from his high, V straightened and stood from the couch, striding over to his kitchenette in just her heels. Fetching a small bottle of water from the fridge, she stood at the sink and drained it in one gulp. By the time she’d fetched another and brought it to the couch, Tiny had cleaned himself off and produced an oversized sweater from the back of his couch. He held it out to her, huffing nervously when she quirked her eyebrows in confusion.
“Uh, I was wonderin’ if you wanted to stay here? Y’know, it’s pretty late…and I heard there’s a buncha angry Tyger Claws about tonight,” He flashed a hint of a charming grin.
V could have sworn she could hear Johnny snickering somewhere in her mind. She froze in place for a minute, thinking about her options. She knew she should leave, put her dress back on and make her way home. However, she couldn’t pull herself past the fear of facing Johnny’s mockery when she was on her own again. But maybe it would only be worse if she stayed. But then again, there was always the chance that she’d run into the cop if she left now.
V knew it was unlikely, but even the possibility was enough to convince her. She reached out and took the sweater just as Mike’s arm began to falter. Passing him the water bottle, she pulled the garment over her head and adjusted it to sit comfortably around her hips and thighs. When Mike held her bottle out to her, she held her hand up, palm flat.
“That’s for you,” She explained, leaning down to slip her aching feet out of her heels. Restored to her usual height, she looked up at him to see genuine surprise and joy on his face.
“Thanks, V,” He smiled softly, sipping tentatively as if he expected it to be poison. She smirked at him; it was a little bit sweet that he thought she was some kind of saint for giving him water from his own kitchen. She turned and headed to his bedroom. She’d been in his apartment before, many times - she preferred not to take conquests to her own home.
Mike’s bed was comfortable and spacious, and he’d initially impressed her by always having crisp, white sheets readily at hand, something that usually got her juices flowing. While she’d never slept here before, she knew she wouldn’t struggle to drift off amidst his luxurious heap of pillows.
She clambered between the sheets and let her head fall back with a sigh, eyes slipping closed. Somewhat nervous shuffling at the doorway caught her attention and she opened her eyes once more to see Tiny Mike hesitating at the threshold.
“Do you…do you want me to take the couch?”
She hauled the sheets back from the mattress on the empty side of the bed, patting the newly-opened space. Her game was over for the night, and she wasn’t going to feel good about leaving him out there while she slept alone in here. Especially since Johnny was more likely to show up if she was alone.
“You can sleep here,” She smiled jokingly, “I’ll allow it.”
“Thanks, V.” He smiled back shyly, scratching the back of his neck absently as he walked around to the free side of the bed. He opened a drawer and pulled on some clean boxers, slipping into the sheets beside her quietly. She turned to sleep on her side, facing away from him, and he followed suit obediently. He didn’t say goodnight and she was grateful. She didn’t say anything either.
Instead, the last conscious thought that drifted through V’s mind in Tiny Mike’s bed was of broad shoulders, big arms, and her best estimation of what it would feel like to have thick, chrome fingers pressing on her throat. The now-familiar burn of shame followed her into her sleep.