Down Her: Bang Lords, #2

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Lord of Chemistry

Bonus Chapter

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Acknowledgments

Bang Lords, Down Her

Edited by Kim Burger

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WARNING: This book contains material that may not be suitable for all readers due to its sexual content, graphic imagery, and some violence. It has been formatted for mature minds.

***

All rights reserved ©2018 Babe Fuel Books. This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

***

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the author. This e-book may also not be re-sold, transferred, or given to other people without written permission of the author.

Chapter 1

Jaxon

Two.

Two beautiful, deep set, emerald green eyes wander between a crowd of bobbling city-street heads.

Ursula Chandler. I must follow her.

I keep my distance. I don’t want to be seen though I like to watch. I watch Ursula as I sometimes do, as I’ve done since high school.

I follow from behind observing the curled tendrils of the beautiful brunette fly behind her as she bounces through the busy streets of the city.

She moves swiftly. It makes my heart race and I feel like I’m in the middle of a chase.

Oh, the thought I might finally get my paws on her...

I pause, gripping my hips to take a quick breather.

She’s getting me excited!

Ursula was supposed to have a meeting with Nick this morning, but he stood her up—kept her waiting in his office for nearly an hour until she finally left. She has an appointment with me in another hour and I’m desperate to know if she’s even going to show up. If she doesn’t, I’m going to have to pop the Bang before she’s out of my life and I’ll be back to being nothing more than an observer. Forever. Again.

I stealthily follow behind Ursula’s long legs leading her towards a hot dog stand. I stop, leaning against the corner of a building to get comfortable and airing my shirt with a pull on my collar before tucking my hands in my gray pant pockets.

Hi, smiles a young amber-eyed redhead, batting her eyes and slowing her strut as she crosses my line of sight.

G’day, I smile in return then let my gaze wander back to Ursula. The redhead detects my observation of someone else, so she sighs and moves on.

Ursula smiles brilliantly as she is handed her hot dog. Her smile still makes my chest tingle.

Once she’s finished pumping her condiments of ketchup and mustard to drop sloppily over the wiener, she manages to find a seat at a small wrought iron black bistro table. Her pretty ass fits snugly in the knee length black pencil skirt, which matches her blazer atop a crisp white button-up blouse. I smile to myself as I enjoy seeing the fabric of her skirt pull tight across her bottom as Ursula bends to sit in the chair.

Hiya, says another woman, blonde, approaching in a white chiffon top and slate gray fitted skirt with a black scarf wrapped round her neck. Look at us, she stops to chuckle. We match.

Tilting my head down, I notice the blonde’s gaze glazes over my dark ash-brown hair, cinnamon brown eyes, and poorly shaven face. Not shaving was intentional knowing I’d run into my first love who I recall likes things a little dirty.

I peep down at my similarly colored ensemble—dark gray suit, white shirt, with black tie and give the blonde a look over as well. We do match, don’t we? I chuckle then fix my gaze deliberately back on Ursula to become enraptured once more.

I hear the blonde swallow before she shuffles her feet, walking onward.

I stand up straight.

My heart palpates.

Ursula Chandler is about to take a bite out of her hot dog!

Her mouth opens wide and the second the bun goes into her mouth, I’m reminiscing about the last night we were together. It was the night of the fire...

She was panting—hard. Ursula’s cherry gloss-covered mouth was wide open, and I was afraid sparks flying about the scene were going to land right onto her pretty pink tongue poking out as she panted. Her two striking green eyes were also wide with worry. She wouldn’t immediately stretch her arms up to me. I figured she thought I wouldn’t be able to help her—too short and skinny. I had to snap at her to do what I wanted.

Adrenaline raged in my throat. Reach for me!

When Ursula finally overextended her elbows after I yelled at her a bit more, with every bit of strength I could muster from my skinny body, I pulled the girl into the attic. I surprised even myself that I could lift her and I’m still proud of the kid I was for being so brave.

I was the second to pull one of the four girls to safety. Ursula turned out to be a lot heavier than I thought. She was taller than me back then, almost a whole head, but I somehow managed to use what little muscle I had fueled by adrenaline and maybe hormones to pull the beautiful dame into the attic where she clung to me.

Smoke was sneaking up through the hole, which Elliot had smashed in with a jack hammer—the electrical cord stretching all the way to his house. We could feel the heat from the fire beyond the bedroom, trying to infiltrate through the cracks and, although we could not see any flames yet, we each felt like we were baking. Ursula was sweating worse than I was and she kept coughing right in my face between whines and whimpers of fear.

Ursula Chandler was hardly the type I’d ever think to succumb to fear. She was popular, smart, and the sporty type, playing tennis for the high school team. The girl had everything—smarts and wealthy parents. But her popularity was attributed to her attractiveness.

She seemed even prettier during the rescue, her wavy locks stuck to her damp forehead. She was desperate, desperate to be saved, desperate for me, and her vulnerability made me, of course, eager to help.

Once I rescued her, sirens resounded in the distance, but emergency services still seemed too far away. I tugged Ursula, who we all call Sue, by the hand to the window where the guys and I placed a ladder reaching across like a bridge from Charlotte’s attic window to Elliot’s attic window next door.

Sue whined louder at the sight of the ladder. I can’t go! she cried. I’m afraid of heights. The girl clung onto me again from behind, putting her sweaty forehead on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around my chest.

It felt good to be gripped, to be needed by her, but I fought her grip to turn around, reaching up to cup her beautiful hot face in my palms. Hey girl, look at me. It’s okay. I’ll go first. You follow right behind, okay?

No, I can’t, she whined like a baby, her cheeks all puffy and red, with her big green eyes looking down at me.

I couldn’t believe it. Ursula Chandler, one of the most popular girls in school, seemingly overconfident and fearless, couldn’t crawl across a ladder to save her own damned life. It pissed me off, really. Her boyfriend kicked my ass the previous year just for saying Hello to her. I figured if I could take a beating like that for the girl, the least she could do was find some courage and crawl to save herself.

But of course, she started crying and the heat was raging. The chicks were panicking. I knew I didn’t have time to give her a pep talk so I turned around and pulled her arms tight around my shoulders.

Just hold on, baby girl, I said, Close your eyes. I’ll carry you.

What? she seemed to be in even more distress.

I shouted with confidence. I’ll piggyback you.

Sue leaped onto my back, wrapping her legs above my hips. We nearly toppled over but I caught myself, putting my hand to the window frame. She squealed out of fear. I feared I wasn’t going to be able to carry her until I felt her mouth and her breath—hot, hotter than fire and spreading down the back of my neck, which gave me another boost of adrenaline. I hiked her legs up higher. Don’t worry, I got you.

Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have carried Sue across the ladder. The height admittedly made me woozy and the tight grip of her thighs at my waist made me feel like my kidneys were about to burst. I nearly pissed my pants.

I remember seeing grass below as I made my way across, which seemed to take for-ev-er. As I crawled with my knees spread to the rail sides and my fingers struggling to grasp each step with Sue’s added weight, I kept thinking how long the drop down would be. We were nearly three stories up. If I had slipped just an inch, we’d have fallen to our deaths, so I wanted to go slow.

But then, I recalled looking ahead to Elliot’s house. The exterior had an orange glow—evidence of Charlotte’s house ablaze behind us and I decided to move quicker because I feared we wouldn’t make it to safety in time.

But we did!

The second Sue and I popped into Elliot’s attic, I fell to my knees to catch my breath, not realizing how fatigued I became. Sue was still gripping me, nearly choking me with her arm and I had to pull her off, as she was reluctant to let go.

Help the others, I encouraged, as I heaved, resting on my hands and knees to pant like a dog.

Once we were all across—four girls and four guys, the Cunt Squad and NIM—we evacuated. The heat from Charlotte’s house was penetrating the walls of Elliot’s home and we were beginning to crisp from the stiff heat.

Sue continued to cling to me. She gripped my forearm with one hand, her other hand laced tight in mine as I led us out of Elliot’s house and into the busy street of onlookers and emergency personnel. It felt good to take the lead.

I tried ushering Sue towards an ambulance where paramedics were waving us towards them, but she didn’t want to get checked out.

She tugged