Red Riding Jack

Chapter 3

It had been two weeks since I last went to a club, two weeks since I’d had s*x. My body was starting to ache for it, like an itch under my skin I couldn’t reach. Not just any s*x either — I wanted another night like the last one. The kind that left me sore, dizzy, and unable to stop replaying it in my head.

I caught myself sighing at the memory, a dreamy little smile tugging at my lips. It only lasted a heartbeat. A sharp slap of a hand against the counter snapped me out of it, and I looked up to see an older woman glaring at me.

“My coffee?” she snapped.

I mumbled an apology and hurried to get it for her. When she finally left, I let my eyes drift up to the clock above the register. My shift had ended three minutes ago. I untied my apron and tossed it onto the counter.

“You couldn’t wait one more minute?” Charlie’s voice teased as he pushed through the back door, tying on his apron.

“I was counting the seconds until you walked in,” I shot back with a grin, throwing the apron at him.

He shook his head, smirking. “Going to the club tonight?”

I clicked my tongue and smirked. “You know me too well, Charlie.”

He laughed as I headed out.

I grabbed a cab home because if I was going out, I needed to change into something worth being noticed in. The moment I opened the door to our apartment, the stale smell of alcohol and cigarettes hit me. Mom was passed out on the floor, her long brown hair a tangled mess around her face.

It hit me like it always did — a punch of memory from the first time I’d found her like this.

“Amanda?” she slurred, blinking groggily as her hand searched for an empty bottle.

“I’m here,” I said softly, kneeling beside her.

She grunted, eyes already fluttering closed. I stayed there for a second, staring at her, my lips pressed tight. She hadn’t always been this way. But after Dad left, she’d turned to the bottle and then the pills, and we became an afterthought.

“Come on, Mom.” I slipped my arm under hers, heaving her up to her feet. She was dead weight, but I managed to get her to the couch.

“f**k this,” I muttered once she was lying there, already snoring, and went to my room.

I pulled my favorite red dress from the closet — the one that hugged every curve and made me feel like the sexiest version of myself. Running my fingers through my hair, I tried to tame the frizz. For a second, staring at my reflection, the smile on my face faltered.

I closed my eyes, took a slow breath, and then forced the smile back into place. Red lipstick, black coat, and I was ready.

By the time the cab dropped me at the club, the bass was already thudding against the pavement outside. Joe was at the door, giving me his usual grin.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said.

“Well, I’m here now!” I laughed.

He shook his head, winked, and opened the door. “Have a good time, baby girl.”

Inside, the music vibrated through my chest. Strobe lights flashed, bodies packed tight on the dance floor, the air thick with perfume, sweat, and alcohol. I headed straight for the bar and perched on a stool, scanning the room like I was hunting — which, in a way, I was.

“A vodka tonic,” I told the bartender.

He nodded. From the corner of my eye, I saw a man in a slim gray suit sit down next to me.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, tapping his key against the counter.

I raised a brow, took a sip of my drink, and glanced at him. His dark eyes lingered on my chest before sliding to my face with a smile.

“Why’s a pretty girl drinking alone?” he asked.

Before I could answer, my chair spun. My breath caught.

Grey eyes.

“Jack…” His name slipped from my mouth like a prayer.

He turned to the man beside me, one brow raised. “Who said she was?”

The guy scoffed and muttered something about sluts as he walked off.

“Princess,” Jack said softly, and just like that, my body betrayed me. Heat coiled low in my stomach. God, I really was a slut.

I crossed my legs, my knee brushing his thigh, and glared. “What was that for?”

He smirked, undoing the cuffs of his white shirt and rolling the sleeves up his arms slowly, like he knew I was watching.

“Because I can’t stand the sight of another man looking at you like he wants to f**k you,” he said, his gaze flicking from my eyes to my lips.

I tightened my grip on my glass, scoffing. “What we had was a one-night stand, Jack. That means not getting attached.”

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Ever since that night, Princess, all I’ve been able to think about is how good it felt to have you riding me. Every day…” His voice dropped, rough and low. “I kept coming to this f*****g club just to see you again. To take you again.”

“I—”

“Shhhh.” He cut me off, his lips brushing my cheek. “Don’t deny it, Princess. I know you want me too.”

And just like that, the wall I’d built cracked. My hands moved on their own, grabbing his face, pulling him in. His mouth crashed onto mine, and God help me, it felt like I’d been starving for it.

What the hell was I doing? I’d promised myself never to get attached. But maybe if I just f****d him one more time — just once — I could get him out of my system.

I broke the kiss, smirking up at him. “Then take me, Jack.”