Cristian stuffed more of the gun into my mouth and draped his other hand around my throat. Like the crazy, f****d up b***h I was, I wrapped my lips around the barrel, sucked my cheeks in, and stared up into his devilish brown eyes.
Bodies were pressed together, scantily clad waitresses strutted around in high-heeled black boots, and men were drunk off their asses. Club lights flashed around us; more people crowded into the room. Yet nobody saw little ol’ Roxie in the dark corner, on her knees, sucking off something that could murder her with the pull of a trigger.
“Suck it,” Cristian ordered again, turning the gun sideways.
I placed my hands on his knees and bobbed my head, warmth pooling between my legs. What the f**k was wrong with me? I didn’t know, didn’t think I’d ever know. But I
