TOMCATS [BOOK TWO] Read online

  TOMCATS

  BOOK TWO

  BY HONEY PALOMINO

  COPYRIGHT © 2018 HONEY PALOMINO

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED WORLDWIDE

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission from the author. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, events, locations and incidences are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This book is for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content and is intended for adults only.

  TOMCATS

  BOOK TWO

  BY HONEY PALOMINO

  CHAPTER 1

  FINN

  My boots hit the pavement and I knew I was home.

  The bus ride was long but as soon as that bright California sunshine hit my face, I decided it was all worth it. Whatever happened now, however this all goes down, good or bad — at least I was here now.

  I’d grown up dreaming of what it would be like to live in the City of Angels. As a small-town country boy growing up in rural Oklahoma, I knew my chances of actually finding my way here were slim to none, but after Mama died, I knew I had to come.

  I had to find the answers or I’d never be able to go on.

  The fact that the answers I was searching for ended up being located in the one city I’d lusted after was just a bonus. I imagined what it would be like surfing the waves, even though I’d never actually seen an ocean in person before. I thought of all the blonde bombshells walking around, all tan skin and big white smiles. Maybe they’d throw a few of those smiles my way. The possibilities were endless.

  Not to brag, but I’d always been told I was handsome. My first girlfriend, Becky, even told me I should be a model. I love to work out and stay fit, and the rest, I guess, is genes. Mama was incredibly beautiful when she was young, after all. So, there were times when I stared in the mirror and imagined something bigger for myself, too. Maybe I could be a model, but to be honest, I have secret fantasies of being an actor. I mean, maybe, right? You never know.

  You never know…

  Of course, that’s all a long time away, considering I don’t even have a place to stay or a job or a car or anything yet. All I’ve got is this backpack slung over my shoulder and exactly three hundred and twenty-three dollars to my name, money I’d saved from mowing lawns back in Bixby.

  Now that I was here, I’d have to start all over.

  The Greyhound station in downtown L.A. is huge and bustling, nothing like the tiny rundown bus station where I’d begun my journey. With vintage carved ceilings and shiny marble floors, you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. I make my way through it and end up on the other side of the block, standing on a busy sidewalk with skyscrapers towering over me.

  I strain my neck looking up at the tallest one, a big glass behemoth that seems to stare down at me with deep judgement.

  “Screw you,” I mumble, shuffling down the sidewalk, looking for food. I pass up the busy, expensive-looking restaurants and search for something cheap. When I stumble upon a 7-11 a few corners down, I feel like I’ve found the holy grail. A few minutes later, I walk out with a chili-cheese dog and a Big Gulp, only three dollars poorer than I was when I went in.

  Continuing down the sidewalk while I consume my meal, I smirk at the chumps throwing down a hundred bucks for lunch in the fancy places I pass. As long as I don’t become as reckless as them, I think, I’ll survive just fine.

  I stop for a few minutes at a park bench, watching the businessmen stride by, ignoring the homeless and poor people like they don’t even see them. Nearby, a group of pigeons fight over a half a slice of wheat bread and I can’t help but wonder what they think of their plight in life.

  We all get dealt a hand to play, whether we like it or not.

  Mine was good, by most accounts. So far, I’ve made the best of it, but still, I’ve ended up here in a city where I don’t know a soul and a total net worth of three hundred and twenty dollars. My future is empty and my past is filled with ghosts.

  I didn’t ask to be here. But this is me now. This is the best chance I’ve got.

  I stand up and walk over to the newsstand and grab a copy of the LA Weekly and take it back to the bench. Sipping my Coke, I flip through it, looking for a job or a place to live or some other miracle that I can swing.

  Of course, I’m under qualified for every job I see and all the apartments listed are apparently owned by crazy people who think four grand is an acceptable amount for rent on a studio apartment.

  I shake my head and keep turning the pages, stopping when I see an advertisement for the newest women’s club — Tomcats. I’ve already read all about it, of course. I know the address by heart. I squint my eyes, peering at the pictures of the dancers printed in the ad that I’ve already seen online.

  Fox Sterling — a blonde, blue eyed guy that was almost too fit. His thin face made me want to buy him a burger. Blaze, a dark-haired guy with just one name apparently, stood next to him, a smile so bright that I needed two pairs of sunglasses just to look at it. And then there was the striking Daine Ryan — the featured dancer who’d quickly become the sweetheart of LA’s male strip scene.

  Since Tomcats opened, the constant press has turned the club into the most exclusive place for women to escape to in L.A. Countless articles and reviews have been written up about them and I’ve read almost all of them, staying up late at night and scouring the internet when nobody else was around, looking for any bit of new information.

  I smiled now, the journey I’d started finally feeling like it was beginning now that I was finally here in this city, holding this paper in my hands, looking at this ad for a place I’d been dreaming of for the last month.

  Anticipation rushed through my veins, but I took a deep breath, reminding myself to be patient. It would all come in time.

  First things first.

  First, I needed a place to stay. Then, I needed a shower and a good night’s sleep in a real bed. After that, I could come up with a solid game plan.

  I stood up, leaving the paper behind on the bench, and walked towards the setting sun, the bright rays of light shooting between the tall buildings, blinding my eyes as I walked towards my future.

  CHAPTER 2

  BLAZE

  Bathed in moonlight, the velvety soft skin of the three women were seamless. Impossible to determine where one ended and the other began, I gave up trying hours ago.

  We danced together on the bed as one, all tongues and hands and raw nerves, our hunger endlessly feeding our urge to continue.

  After meeting at a bar in Malibu and quickly retreating to a nearby apartment, we’d been at it since dusk.

  I’d already forgotten their names.

  One of them might have been a Brittany or a Madison, and another other was named after a state, I think. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember which one after all these hours. Perhaps ‘Montana’ or ‘Dakota’ or ‘Georgia’ — something forgettable, indistinguishable.

  What I did remember was how each of them tasted…

  How each of them felt writhing beneath me…

  But the rest of them? Their faces, hair, voices? The common shape of their surgically enhanced bodies? Practically identical.

  That didn’t stop me from tearing through them like a kid in a candy store, of course.

  Look, I adore women, okay?

  I live and breathe women.

  The more women, the better — that’s my motto.

  Which is what leads us here, with my johnson sunk ten inches deep inside some random Brittany clone and two of her very eager friends with no end in sight.

  A ton
gue rolled over my nipple, sending an electric shock straight to my hips, my cock sliding deep inside the warm, moaning woman below me. I turned my head, my lips colliding with a pair of hot, plush pillowed lips, which promptly parted, welcoming my tongue. Silky fingertips reached around from behind, scraping sensually against my skin as they glided down, wrapping around the base of my shaft and gripping tightly, pulling it away from the pulsing warmth and slipping it between a pair of waiting lips, a warm tongue swirling around the tip.

  My eyes rolled back in my head, my body opening up, allowing them to slide over and around and under me, the dance filling us up with the music of our singing bodies.

  Moans turned to cries of ecstasy. Cries turned to shouts of joy. Shouts turned to low, grueling growls that turned into savage, beastly screams of passionate release.

  Our symphony finally drew to a close, the soft sounds of our lungs gasping for oxygen and the rhythmic rise and fall of our chests a joyous heaving celebration of the divine and absolute meaning of connection and existence.

  This is why I lived.

  This is why I woke up every morning.

  This is why I kept going.

  Life’s greatest purpose is love.

  It’s not work, or family, or faith.

  It’s love, pure and simple.

  And I believe there’s no greater way to access love than through sex. Pure, open, uninhibited sex breaks open every barrier we’ve foolishly erected as humans. That’s why I seek such an abundance of it.

  I fall in love ten times a day.

  Because I can.

  Because it feels good.

  Because it gives me fuel.

  Without these three beautiful women wrapped around me, and countless others before and after them, I would simply cease to exist. As a human. As a man…

  I know this. I accept this. I accepted it long ago, choosing to feed my addiction with indulgence, instead of starving it and suffering the deadly consequences.

  Not everyone understands, but that’s okay.

  Most people think it’s because of my job, because I’m around women all the time, but that’s not it. I adhere to my rule about not mixing business and pleasure and I leave my work at the club.

  Most women I fuck don’t even know what I do for a living and I prefer it that way.

  My friends — Richie, Daine, and Fox — they don’t understand, either, but they accept it. I’ve always been like this. Sure, they laugh it off, but I don’t care.

  They can call me a man-slut or a playboy or a pussy hound or a sex addict all they want.

  I call it essential.

  I call it survival.

  I call it life…

  CHAPTER 3

  TILLIE

  Washing over me in waves, the pleasure Richie’s tongue brought left me quivering and writhing beneath him blissfully. My fingers sank into his hair and I pulled gently, his handsome face smiling as he lifted himself over me, his hardness gliding into my softness smoothly, deliciously.

  His hips slammed into mine as we sought out the intense release we’d grown to love. Richie’s tongue invaded my mouth, sensually sliding against mine, his kiss deep and passionate, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from my trembling flesh.

  “I love you, Tillie,” he growled, his lips breaking away, as he peered deep into my eyes. Richie’s love had crawled deep into my soul, residing there and providing me with an endless supply of love and kindness…and the best sex I’d had in my life by far.

  My thighs fell open, inviting him deeper, urging him to give me every inch of his love.

  “I love you, too, Richie,” I murmured, my hands sliding down to his firm ass, pulling him harder into me. His cock pulsed, the heat of his thrusting shaft searing my sex as I gripped him tightly. “Now, fuck me harder, baby…”

  I’d grown insistent in the last few months.

  Moving from begging to asking to demanding, Richie had met my requests with vigor and enthusiasm, encouraging me to let my inhibitions fall away as I gave in to the endless needs of my long-dormant sexual appetite.

  “Like this?” he asked, his voice gentle and hungry as he slammed into me so hard I hit the headboard of my bed…our bed.

  “Harder,” I insisted, raising my hips to meet his pounding thrusts.

  Since Richie and the guys had moved in, my entire life had changed.

  Gone were the endless lonely nights, the yearning for passion and connection and friendships. Now, I had everything I could ever want.

  And more, I thought, as Richie’s cock throbbed inside of me, growing impossibly larger as he used every ounce of strength to crash into my center.

  I liked it like that.

  Hard and fast, almost savage…

  Sometimes, he fucked me so hard there were days I wondered if I’d ever recover, but the pain was so good and the pleasure even better, that I’d end up begging him to give me more before the day was over.

  He always obliged.

  How I got so lucky, I had no idea. But Richie was loyal and loving and fucked me like a sex machine — I was indeed the luckiest woman I knew.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he growled, his voice thick with lust.

  “Good,” I whispered, his lips crashing into mine. I kissed him with everything inside of me, with all the love and joy and passion and life that I possessed.

  I wanted to return every gift he’d given me. Every ounce of love I wanted to give back tenfold. I stared up at him in awe, my heart bursting with adoration and affection that I’d never be able to properly express.

  He reached down, caressing my cheek, his eyes full of love.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are to me?” He smiled.

  My heart melted at his words.

  “Promise me something,” I replied, my hands still gripping his ass.

  “Anything for you,” he growled.

  I smiled a slow, seductive smile, my pussy tightening around his heat.

  “Don’t stop, just don’t ever stop,” I said.

  “You’re everything to me, Tillie Thorn,” he said, his body growing still. “I’ll never stop loving you.” His hips began moving again, his cock sliding back inside, deeply, slowly. “And I’ll never, ever stop fucking you, either.”

  He slammed into me hard, my body deliciously reeling from his assault, my smile growing wide as he gave me exactly what I wanted.

  CHAPTER 4

  DAINE

  As the tires of my truck crunched over the gravel of Tomcats’ driveway, I left my job in the rearview mirror. As much as I loved stripping, it left me mentally exhausted. The physical part was easy to endure — my stamina was limitless.

  But the talking, the schmoozing, the hustling — all of that left me aching for a little less conversation and a lot more action. I spent the better part of my night being manhandled by horny women and pretending to enjoy it. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. I love women, I really do.

  But more than that, I love dick.

  Thick, long, hard, massive cocks.

  And once I clocked out for the night, I was more than ready to seek out those rockets and hop on for an out of this world adventure.

  Since moving to Los Angeles, I’d learned it wasn’t difficult to get laid here. The queer scene is even bigger than I was used to in Vegas, and once I learned which clubs drew in what kind of crowd, I figured out how to cruise each one like a buffet.

  Was I in the mood for a big, happy bear? Go to the Eagle.

  Craving a young hipster type? Drop into Akbar.

  Want it down and dirty with a hairy, pierced, tattoo’d guy, my usual go-to? Well, Fubar was the best place for that. I never left Fubar unsatisfied and tonight, due to the fact that I was in no mood for games, I headed there without a second thought.

  As usual, it was jumping for a Friday night. I grabbed a drink and headed straight to the dance floor. Ready to lose myself in the flashing lights, I melted into the crowd, my hips swaying, my head rocking, the tequila hitting
me as quickly as I’d hoped it would.

  Immediately, I was surrounded by guys. A smile settled onto my face and it stayed there the rest of the night, the stress of the day falling away like a heavy blanket as I grinned my troubles away.

  This town had been good to me so far.

  Tillie had been wonderful, and Tomcats was a dream come true.

  My life was finally falling into place perfectly and I felt like I was at the top of my game. A handsome dark-haired guy moved closer to me on the dance floor, his eyes trailing up and down my frame with frank appreciation.

  “Like what you see?” I asked, shouting over the pulsing music.

  “I’d like to see more,” he replied with a sexy wink.

  “That could be arranged,” I said.

  He raised an eyebrow, a quick silent question promptly answered by my brazen smile. Quickly, he nodded and grabbed my hand, leading me to the back of the club and into the dark booths on the back patio. I sank onto the leather seat and he sank to his knees wordlessly.

  Within seconds, he’d engulfed me.

  I leaned back, inhaling, exhaling, letting any remaining stress disappear as my shaft disappeared in his mouth. I closed my eyes, my hand falling on his bobbing head, a low moan escaping from me.

  “You’re just what I needed tonight,” I whispered.

  He didn’t reply. He just kept going, expertly providing the perfect therapy to my bruised and tired psyche.

  CHAPTER 5

  BLAZE

  Milo and Leo wove around my ankles as I poured coffee into my cup. Tillie’s cats were always up at the crack of dawn, hanging out in the kitchen and hoping for a bite of someone’s breakfast.

  Usually, I was the last one up in the mornings, but today I was the first. Last night’s marathon had left me starving, my growling stomach waking me up. After untangling myself from the two women in my bed, I padded down to the kitchen in search of fuel.