She would never forget the day, about three months back when she found that not only had her flat been broken into, but the culprit was still inside. Not an addict looking for something they could sell, but a twelve year old boy, looking for food. Little David revealed that although he lived with his mum in the flat above Jaxxon’s, the woman was hardly ever home; when she was, she barely took any notice of him.
Despite his insistence that he remain with his mum, who he was very protective of, Jaxxon might have contacted the authorities if she hadn’t known from personal experience that going into care didn’t mean you would be any better off. So she had taken him to meet a friend of hers who worked in the bakery at the corner of their street. Nora had told him that if he came each day just before closing time, she would give him any pastries or other foods that were left over. Thank God. Jaxxon made a mental note to check on him later.
“Where are they?”
Sean’s growl snatched Jaxxon from her thoughts. She groaned. “Are you still here?”
“I won’t ask you again.”
“I’m curious, Sean, do you even know how old your little girl is? What date her birthday is? What her favourite food was to eat – when you bothered feeding her, of course.” If the man had truly known anything about Celia and their daughter then he would have known about Celia’s sister, who lived a few towns away. And if he had then suspected that that was where they were, he would have been right.
Sean leaned across the bar, his face becoming an ugly shade of purple, his bloodshot eyes bulging. “You’ve always looked down your nose at me.”
“Now really, Sean, you make it impossible not to. You’re an abusive, twisted, weak little twat, who enjoys trying to assault young girls in his free time.”
His smirk was crooked and callous. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” So close, he’d come so close to having that delicious body once. Even though it had been eight years ago, Sean could still remember how arousing she’d looked in her school uniform that day. And just how much more arousing she’d looked when he and his friends were tearing it off her. So close. “I’d told Nick you wouldn’t just lie there, shaking with fear, and not fight back. McKenzie had taught you better than that – before he went off and became famous as a Formula One driver, that is. If Nick had listened to me and tied you up like I told him to, I reckon that afternoon in the alley would’ve turned out very differently.”
“Such a shame.” She didn’t let it show that the memories were grating on her control, or that the mention of Connor, however fleeting, had brassed her off.
“You think that what we had in mind for you that day was bad? You think that what I did to Celia and the kid was bad? It will be nothing compared to what I do to you if you don’t cough up what I want to know. Oh yeah, I’d have a lot of fun with you. Even more fun than what I had with that little daughter of mine.”
Sick, perverted, evil bastard! Anger made her quick; without thought, she grabbed a fistful of his greasy dark hair and slammed his face down hard on the bar. Once. Twice. Three times. “You ever even attempt to touch me with these paedophilic hands of yours and not only will I castrate you but I’ll ram your balls up your arse when I’m done.” She released his hair with a shove.
Although Sean, steaming with infuriation, quietly made his way to the door with that stealthy walk he had, she wasn’t mistakenly under the impression that that was the end of the matter. She was right.
“Don’t be surprised if Don decides he wants his rent money early,” he yelled as he reached the door.
Ah, yes. She had the company of her Wookie lookalike landlord and his grubby paws to look forward to later, when he came asking where his rent money was. It wouldn’t take much convincing from Sean to make Don be awkward. It was even possible that Wookie Don would repeat his cheeky offer that Jaxxon could pay her rent with her body. She’d just have to knee the perverted old fart in the balls like she did last time.
Sean began, “And another thing—”
“Oh, for the love of God, why don’t you just piss off out of here!” A moment after a scowling Sean had left, she heard Joe groan loudly. “What?”
“There’s an old man over there who’s been watching the whole thing, and rubbing his crotch like crazy at the same time.”
Oh bloody wonderful. Another sick perv.
Richie eyed the masturbating old age pensioner with the same disgust as the young barmaid and the landlord. Not that Richie blamed him for being affected so strongly by the barmaid he had heard being called ‘Jaxxon’. God, no. This girl was a walking wet dream. He was willing to bet that she could make even a gay dick rise to attention. She was unique. Fresh. And exactly what he had been scouting for. The tabloids would love her. He could have her on billboards all across the country.
Christ, it was difficult not to be mesmerised by her. She didn’t even seem to realise how she naturally commanded the attention of those around her. He doubted she was aware of just how sensual her every move was, either. The fluid, graceful way in which she conducted herself was almost feline. The inner strength she had was so apparent that it was like she wore it. Yet, there was no conceitedness about her; she wasn’t gazing around to see who might be looking at her, and she wasn’t dressed to impress. She just was. And that was enough for any man to want her.
There was also her beauty. No, ‘beauty’ wasn’t the right word. ‘Beauty’ seemed to imply a certain degree of innocence. This young woman’s appearance was not in the least bit angelic. That face, that body, that sultry voice…It was a package meant to tempt a man to sin.
When looking at those long, wild, chocolate-brown ringlets, a man would only think of fisting his hands in them while covering her mouth with his own. When gazing at those large, wild, brown eyes framed by a thick set of eyelashes, a man would want nothing more than to see them glazed over and dreamy after an orgasm. And those lips…Christ, it was as if they had been purposely designed to service a man’s dick. The smooth olive skin would beckon even a priest. What’s more, she wasn’t wafer thin like most of the girls he worked with. No. This girl had curves in all the right places. Very nice set of breasts.
When her emotions were running high, it was impossible to look away from her. Anger was a good look for her, making her unique eyes feral and become somehow hypnotic. There were no real words to explain it. Whatever it was, it made his dick twitch. Just like everything else about her.