Hardcore: Volume 1, p.1Staci Hart
Other Books by Staci Hart
Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1)
Snake in the Grass (Hearts and Arrows 2)
What the Heart Wants (Hearts and Arrows 2.5 Novella)
Doe Eyes (Hearts and Arrows 3)
Hearts and Arrows 4 - COMING 2015
Once (FREE short story)
Hardcore (Erotic Romantic Suspense Serials)
Volume 1 - January 27th
Volume 2 - February 24th
Volume 3 - March 24th
Nighthawk (Nighthawk 1) - May 2015
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Copyright © 2013, 2014 Staci Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover by Quirky Bird
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Bang, Bang, Pow.
The Devil You Know
Cycles and Levers
Do What You Have To
The View From Here
What It Is
The Way Out
To Brookie, for giving me courage.
1) The activity or sport of moving rapidly through an area, typically in an urban environment,
negotiating obstacles by running, jumping, and climbing.
LIFE IS A STRING of events and relationships, a chain bound by convenience and survival.
I’d been alone for so long that I didn’t know how to care, couldn’t find a point in wanting more than what I had. If you don’t know what you’re missing, you have nothing to lose. But the second you know, the moment you taste it, you can never go back.
Years of choices trailed behind me like broken glass, leading me to where I stood, which at that moment was a small electronics store in Hell’s Kitchen, filling my black backpack with RAM and graphics cards under the light of the LED hooked on my ear.
“Three minutes,” Jade yelled from across the dark store, her voice muffled from the black jersey buff stretched over her nose, mouth, and neck.
I moved down the aisle and grabbed stacks of boxes of memory cards, dropping them in next to a few cameras and a MacBook.
“Done.” I tossed my flashlight into my pack and zipped it up.
“Me too,” answered Erin from behind me.
“Let’s hit it,” Jade said, and I pulled on my pack.
I turned to Erin, who raised a dark eyebrow. She was a column of shades of black, from her boots to her hood. The only visible skin was found around her bright blue eyes as she jerked her head to the back exit.
Jade stood in the hallway with cold eyes shifting from her watch to the store, impatience thick in her voice. “Come on, bitches.”
Morgan and Cher trotted out from between the aisles to us, their height difference almost comical. Cher stood somewhere around five feet with curves all over, where Morgan pushed six and was lean as she was tall.
“Cool your shit,” Morgan popped with narrow eyes.
“Fuck you.” Jade turned to head for the door, not seeming to care whether we followed or not.
We stepped into the cool alley to the sound of sirens and glanced at each other for a split second. Then we took off running.
Jade ran up a wall and grabbed a fire escape ladder, and everyone else followed, scrambling up the iron structure like monkeys.
“Only pussies use ladders,” I shouted, spotting a dumpster at the corner of the building. I pulled off my gloves, stuffing them in my pocket as I sprinted for it and vaulted up, then jumped for a windowsill above me. My toes caught holds in the brick, and I hoisted myself up from ledge to sill until I reached the rooftop. My boots hit the gravel with a crunch as I took off for our loft with my friends whooping behind me.
We’d been running together for ten years, ever since high school, but we’d only spent half of that time stealing. It had started out innocently enough, just sneaking into abandoned buildings to parkour and graffiti, which was more Jade’s hobby than mine. Freeclimbing and running, pushing my body to see how far I could go, how high I could climb … it was a welcomed escape.
Jade was handy with lock picks, and I could get us past the alarms, so when Jade’s twin brother had the idea to start breaking into electronics stores, it was easy money. There were so many small things we could cram into a backpack and get rid of with no real risk of being tracked. And we’d never been caught.
Morgan passed me easily with her mile-long legs, and I watched her back as she flipped over a short wall onto the next roof. When I vaulted the ledge behind her, I saw them.
A pack of guys was free running across the alley from where we were. One of them called out, smiling cheerfully, and Jade flipped him off as we veered off in the opposite direction. A couple of the girls had pulled down their buffs to make it easier to breathe, but yanked them back on as soon as they realized the boys were chasing us.
None of us turned to look, just pushed harder, but within minutes, I heard their footfalls. I glanced over my shoulder to find the shadows of five guys, all of them laughing and calling out to us.
“Jay,” I shouted at Jade with my chin low, “split.”
“Heard,” she yelled back, and we each took off in a different direction.
They thought it was a game, that we were playing. I looked back, and under the lights of the city and moon, I saw each girl leaping, climbing, hauling ass with a guy in her wake. I caught a glimpse of my pursuer a ways behind me, tall and muscular in a tank and sweats. I couldn’t see his face in the dark, but his presence pulled me like gravity.
Get rid of him. The words cycled through my head like a skipping record.
I cut hard to cross a line of buildings, knowing exactly where I was. I’d parkoured through Hell’s Kitchen a million times, and the low, brick buildings were easy to navigate. But I was about to hit a point where I’d either have to drop to the street or switch back. There was only one way to buy time.
I ran for the wall and slid on the gravel toward the ledge, flipping over it to land on the fire escape platform with a clang. The metal rail bit at my palms as I vaulted over the edge and dropped, catching the next rail down with a jolt that shot up my arms, barely pausing before letting go. I hit the ground and took off through the alley with my eyes on a building down the street. He wouldn’t be able to get down in enough time to catch me. Not unless he was good.
“Holy shit.” His words echoed off the walls of the alley, and I looked back to find him running the roofs alongside me.
He was persistent, and good enough that I had to push hard to stay ahead of him. A different kind of heat burned through me as he chased, one hotter than the sweat trailing down my body or my breath under my buff. But I had to shake him. The last thing I needed was to get held up with thousands of dollars in stolen property on me.
My legs were on fire, and my feet pounded a steady rhythm, matching my heartbeat as I sprinted for the wall. The space between the building he was on and the one I was about to scale was too far. There was no way he could jump it, and there was no way he could climb down and back up in enough time to catch me. When I reached the wall, I took two steps up, grabbed a stone window ledge, and climbed, reaching for the next window up.
He skidded to a stop behind me and swore as I climbed, but when I reached the top an
“Later.” I took off again, almost relieved that he’d given up as I turned for the loft. I had crossed a couple more buildings before I heard footsteps pounding behind me.
“Hey,” he called. “Hold up.”
My heart kicked into gear at the sound of his voice, and if I hadn’t been so freaked out, I would have been smiling. I said nothing, didn’t turn, only pushed harder as I wondered in awe just how in the hell he’d caught up.
“Wait.” He jumped onto the roof where I was and ran diagonally toward me. “I just want to talk,” he panted. “You’re incredible.”
My lungs burned as I spotted a gap between buildings and pushed as hard as I could. On a normal day, I could have spanned it like nothing, but after running all over the borough, I should have known it was too far. I held my breath and jumped, time slowing down as I hung in the air, my eyes on the ledge ahead of me. My body slammed against the wall, and I barely got my fingers on the edge as my boots scrabbled for purchase against the brick.
My toes gripped the wall, and I looked up just as he sailed over me and landed on the roof. He leaned over and extended a hand, his eyes dark. “Come on.”
The impulse to take his hand was overwhelming. Shock ripped through me as I pictured myself doing it, making it to the top. He could have grabbed my arm, could have caught me. But instead, he gave me a choice.
I looked over my shoulder at the wide ledge below, then into his eyes once more before I dropped. My fingers and toes never left the wall as I slid down, and when I glanced up, he was still leaning over the edge with his hand extended and mouth open.
Something shifted, like the tightening of a screw. I could feel him above me as I walked the ledge and jumped down onto a dumpster, taking off again as soon as my boots hit pavement. He wouldn’t quit. He was on the roof, close enough to the edge that I could see the determination in the set of his jaw, his lips flat as he chased and gained.
He wasn’t going to let me go again.
“Fuck,” I breathed, trying to figure out what to do. Strangely, I wasn’t afraid. I anticipated him catching me, wondered what his arms would feel like around my waist. I shook it away.
I couldn’t lead him to the loft, but I couldn’t stop him either. Well, I could stop him, but I didn’t want to hurt him, not unless there were no other options. So I kept running, leaving him on the roof, keeping to the street to lose him for good.
After hauling ass for a few blocks, I ducked into a dark alley and pressed myself against the rough brick with the smell of metal and garbage in my nose. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath, unable to move.
Who the fuck is this guy? I couldn’t even imagine why he was still chasing me, not when everything in his body language told me he knew I wasn’t playing. And then I put my finger on it. He was challenging me. Another wave of heat washed over me that had nothing to do with the run.
I closed my eyes and breathed for a second, waiting for my thumping pulse to quiet down. After a few minutes, all I heard were the sounds of the city, the hum of the traffic, and music bumping from somewhere nearby. I’d lost him. I mourned my relief as I ran through my options.
I could hit the roofs again or stick to the street. If he was still on the rooftops, I’d be easy to spot, but on the street I could lose my buff and hood and look normal. Before I had a chance to decide, he stepped into the entrance of the alley.
His shoulders heaved, his body a silhouette at the mouth of the dark alley. I didn’t breathe, didn’t move, just stared at him as adrenaline ripped through me again, not knowing whether or not he could see me.
When he stepped into the alley, I turned and ran. Climbed another escape and took off across the roofs with him on my heels. Ran like clowns and cops and zombies were chasing me. But he was right there, right behind me. His energy was like a black hole sucking me backward. I heard his breath as he huffed, and then he was on me.
He grabbed my arm, and I tried to twist out of his grip, but we were moving so fast that the motion sent both of us off balance. We hit the ground with a thud, and he landed on top of me, pinning my hands to the ground over my head. My backpack laid a few feet away, and my buff had slipped down. His eyes scanned my face as we both breathed heavy, his big hands like a vice around my wrists and his wide shoulders looming over me.
“What … the fuck?” he panted. His lips were full, his eyes dark, and his jaw muscles bounced under his stubble as his teeth clenched.
“Let me go,” I said through mine.
“I just wanted to talk to you,” he said, his brow low, his voice deep, full of disbelief. “What are you running from?”
The words were simple, and I knew he couldn’t possibly know what they meant to me. That question had hung over me like a rainy cloud, one I ignored as an absolute rule. I knew what he was asking. But something about the way he said it, with his voice full of wonder and exhaustion, or maybe the honesty in his question … something about it hit me. Adrenaline pumped through my body, and I couldn’t think. I could only react.
I brought my mouth to his before he could pull away. His lips were still for a split second, telegraphing his confusion, but as soon as he realized what was happening, they parted and met mine. He pushed me into the roof with his hips.
My hands were still in his, pinned over my head as he kissed me. Our lips found frantic rhythm, and the sound of our heavy breath, the weight of his body against mine, all of it combined overwhelmed me. He pulled back and asked, stunned, “Who are you?”
I didn’t answer, just lifted my face to kiss him again, not wanting him to know. Not wanting to know.
I shifted under him, and he let my hands go. They found their way around his neck, and I pulled him as close as I could. His fingertips grazed my jaw, trailed down my neck and to the zipper of my leather jacket. He tugged it open and slipped his hand inside, across my stomach, to my waist, and I hooked my legs around him.
He pulled away again, swollen lips parted as he looked down at me.
“Don’t stop.” I tightened my hold to meet his lips again, and he didn’t fight it. His hands roamed up my ribs to my breasts where he thumbed my peaked nipple through the thin fabric of my bra. I moaned into his mouth.
I wanted more. It had been too long, so long that the heat between my thighs was unbearable. I moved against him, feeling how much he wanted me through the fabric of his sweats. He pushed back, rolling his hips in time to mine, fast and hard. The adrenaline from the chase was still raging as I dragged my hands down his solid chest, lingering for a moment over his nipples through his shirt, then down his abs, feeling each ridge of his muscles, memorizing each one. He raised up, and I slipped my hand into his pants, wrapping my fingers around his cock, hard and hot in my palm.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
I sucked on his neck and pumped him slow, and he rocked his hips, pushing and pulling in long motions before he dipped his head and took my mouth again.
I needed release, needed him inside of me. Walking away was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. It was my turn to pull away.
“Fuck me,” I whispered with my eyes on his lips.
Shock registered on his face. “Tell me your name.”
I kissed him again, our tongues rolling and twisting around each other, and I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth, sucking hard before letting go.
“Stop asking questions and fuck me.” I pulled his pants under his ass and raked my nails over the skin.
“Christ,” he moaned, and kissed me again before pulling away. He jerked his chin. “Roll over,” he growled.
I did as I was told, panting as I laid my palms on the rooftop. I wanted him so bad, so fucking bad my clit ached at the thought of him touching me again.
I glanced back to find him pulling a condom out of his wallet with his tank hitched up, exposing his abs. My eyes were locked on his fingers as he ripped it open and rolled it on his cock, thick and long, then gripped himself, flashing a
He leaned over and pressed his chest to my back, and I rolled my hips, leaning into him. He propped himself up with one hand, using the other to deftly unbutton my pants, unzip them, and slip his hand into my panties.
His fingers found my tender clit, and I moaned at the contact, the muscles in my thighs clenching in answer to his touch. He slipped his finger up my slit then back again to rub my bud in slow circles as I swayed my hips against his hand.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered into my hair.
“Get in me, now,” I panted.
He let me go, and I was almost sorry I’d asked, instantly missing his touch. He sat back on his heels, and I looked over my shoulder again, watching him. His eyes were on my ass as he hooked his fingers into the band of my jeans and tugged, slipping them over my hips, down my thighs. I arched my back, tilting my hips so he could see my pussy, and I smiled when he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. His gaze was locked between my legs as he lifted up again and ran the pad of his finger up and down my slick entrance.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.
“Yes,” I breathed. “Fuck yes.”
He laid a hand between my shoulder blades and ran it down the back of my leather jacket, stopping in the dip just above my ass. My hips flexed, waiting for him in near agony.
“Please,” I begged, and his fingers clenched, grabbing a handful of leather, and his cock pressed against my pussy. I rolled my hips and leaned back, trying to force him in, but he backed away, teasing me for just a moment. A frustrated groan passed my lips just before he pulled me onto his rigid cock by the back of my jacket. He filled me completely, pushed until he hit the end, and I couldn’t even breathe, just waited, frozen, feeling him inside of me.
“Jesus Christ.” His words were barely intelligible.
Hardcore: Volume 1 by Staci Hart / History & Fiction have rating 4 out of 5 / Based on32 votes