Classic (Adrenaline Book 1) Read Online Free
Author: Xavier Neal
needs his best friend―”
“He's in the goddamn booth tonight.”
“Not the point.”
“How is that not the point?” I snap back frustrated. “Fuck it. What is the point, Ben?”
“The point is there's a crowd of fine ass females waiting for you to show your precious mug so their pussies can weep.”
Weep? Is it just me or does that analogy feel...wrong? It's Ben though. What about Ben doesn't feel wrong in some way? I'm all ears for that answer.
Being the hype man that he is, he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and hits my chest. “Now, who are you?”
With a sarcastic look I shrug. “What?”
“Who are you? Are you some pussy whipped nobody falling to shit, all over some piece of ass that's been passed around like a community bong--”
See what I mean. Wrong. I swear my Aunt Kelli dropped him on his head. Probably more than once.
“Or are you Merrick McCoy, youngest, but definitely the most fun of the infamous McCoy brothers who race hard and fuck harder?”
My head bobs for a second as that information swims around in my head trying to settle. Trying to grab the persona I live under, that I've always lived under, from drowning in the need for something better, I answer “Merrick McCoy.”
“I’m sorry. What was that? Do I need a hearing aid?” He acts as if he hasn’t heard me. “Who are you?”
“Merrick McCoy,” I repeat a little louder.
“Who are you?”
“Merrick McCoy!” I say loudly twisting my baseball cap around as well.
“That's what I'm talking about baby!” Ben tugs me closer to him by the neck marching us closer to the back entrance.
No. Partying and sticking my dick into random club ass won't fix any of my problems. It won't get me any closer to filling this weird misshaped void inside, but you know what? At least it'll pass the time by. And at least I'll get to bust a nut. I definitely need that.
The security guard opens the black door and we're immediately leaked into the club. Taking the private path that lets out beside the D.J. booth, I take a deep breath to pump myself up.
They're expecting a show. It's my job to give 'em one. I hate to disappoint. Besides....don't you wanna see me in action at least once?
Ben bangs on the glass of the booth that's surrounded by brown brick to give an aged appearance all around, but keeping the top half of him and his moving hands on perfect display. Thankful my neck is finally free, I move it side to side while watching the security guard glare at Ben for his continued banging. Doesn't stop the knocking. Finally, J Money, my other best friend and also Saturday night D.J. here, turns his attention to greet us with a nod.
“Merrick!” A group of females showing more skin than they are hiding, shout my name as they rush over from the direction of the upstairs bar closest to us.
At that moment Ben looks up at J Money who winks and switches tracks to one of Ben's favorite songs right now, Bitch Better Have Me Money . They shriek and gather together in front of us, moving their hips and their asses in front of us, the invitation to dance clear. With crooked grins, Ben and I fold our arms across our chest as they continue gyrating in our view. The girl in the middle has the most potential in her short leather skirt and black shirt that looks like a bandanna.
One pull of the back and it'd be Girl's Gone Wild.
When her hand hits her own ass, I toss my attention to Ben who laughs under his breath.
He likes 'em this easy. I don't.
“Come on cuz. We gotta swing by Vinnie's before we post up,” he instructs, walking to the right past the girls without another look.
I follow suit, a couple feet away when they shout my name over the music. “Merrick!”
Turning around, so I'm walking backwards, I give them a wink. “Ladies...”
With slightly drunken cheer they raise their glasses before demanding, “Come
“He's in the goddamn booth tonight.”
“Not the point.”
“How is that not the point?” I snap back frustrated. “Fuck it. What is the point, Ben?”
“The point is there's a crowd of fine ass females waiting for you to show your precious mug so their pussies can weep.”
Weep? Is it just me or does that analogy feel...wrong? It's Ben though. What about Ben doesn't feel wrong in some way? I'm all ears for that answer.
Being the hype man that he is, he wraps an arm around my shoulder, and hits my chest. “Now, who are you?”
With a sarcastic look I shrug. “What?”
“Who are you? Are you some pussy whipped nobody falling to shit, all over some piece of ass that's been passed around like a community bong--”
See what I mean. Wrong. I swear my Aunt Kelli dropped him on his head. Probably more than once.
“Or are you Merrick McCoy, youngest, but definitely the most fun of the infamous McCoy brothers who race hard and fuck harder?”
My head bobs for a second as that information swims around in my head trying to settle. Trying to grab the persona I live under, that I've always lived under, from drowning in the need for something better, I answer “Merrick McCoy.”
“I’m sorry. What was that? Do I need a hearing aid?” He acts as if he hasn’t heard me. “Who are you?”
“Merrick McCoy,” I repeat a little louder.
“Who are you?”
“Merrick McCoy!” I say loudly twisting my baseball cap around as well.
“That's what I'm talking about baby!” Ben tugs me closer to him by the neck marching us closer to the back entrance.
No. Partying and sticking my dick into random club ass won't fix any of my problems. It won't get me any closer to filling this weird misshaped void inside, but you know what? At least it'll pass the time by. And at least I'll get to bust a nut. I definitely need that.
The security guard opens the black door and we're immediately leaked into the club. Taking the private path that lets out beside the D.J. booth, I take a deep breath to pump myself up.
They're expecting a show. It's my job to give 'em one. I hate to disappoint. Besides....don't you wanna see me in action at least once?
Ben bangs on the glass of the booth that's surrounded by brown brick to give an aged appearance all around, but keeping the top half of him and his moving hands on perfect display. Thankful my neck is finally free, I move it side to side while watching the security guard glare at Ben for his continued banging. Doesn't stop the knocking. Finally, J Money, my other best friend and also Saturday night D.J. here, turns his attention to greet us with a nod.
“Merrick!” A group of females showing more skin than they are hiding, shout my name as they rush over from the direction of the upstairs bar closest to us.
At that moment Ben looks up at J Money who winks and switches tracks to one of Ben's favorite songs right now, Bitch Better Have Me Money . They shriek and gather together in front of us, moving their hips and their asses in front of us, the invitation to dance clear. With crooked grins, Ben and I fold our arms across our chest as they continue gyrating in our view. The girl in the middle has the most potential in her short leather skirt and black shirt that looks like a bandanna.
One pull of the back and it'd be Girl's Gone Wild.
When her hand hits her own ass, I toss my attention to Ben who laughs under his breath.
He likes 'em this easy. I don't.
“Come on cuz. We gotta swing by Vinnie's before we post up,” he instructs, walking to the right past the girls without another look.
I follow suit, a couple feet away when they shout my name over the music. “Merrick!”
Turning around, so I'm walking backwards, I give them a wink. “Ladies...”
With slightly drunken cheer they raise their glasses before demanding, “Come
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