Keep It Sexy (KIS Series Book 3) Page 2
“Fuck. You. Billie,” he gasped, looking up at me with tears in his eyes and a beet red face.
Normally, I wouldn’t resort to violence. I don’t have a violent bone in my body. That’s not how us McAllisters operate. We believe in making your wallet bleed, not your body. But I was making Joey the exception.
“Fuck me, Joey? Not only have you been cheating on me since we moved in together, but I catch you doing business with Don. After I repeatedly told you not to.” I bent at the waist, gripping his chin so his attention was on me. “Future reference, don’t fuck around on a girl when you’re working for her father. Because chances are, her dad will be more than willing to give her your banking information.” Joey’s eyes widened with shock. “That’s right, dear, as of this morning, your bank account is sitting pretty with a big ol’ round fat zero. Thanks for paying me back for the deposit of the house and all the other times I had to cover your half of the rent.”
I pushed his face away as the roaring sounds of motorcycles circled around the cul-de-sac and stopped in front of our house. “Oh, and by the way, that skank you’re screwing is John’s old lady. You know, Big John from that motorcycle club that always drops by the diner?”
Joey’s pain was long forgotten after he realized he had potentially slept with the wife of the president of one of Nevada’s most wanted motorcycle clubs. I had lied; Big John wasn’t married to the skank. “Run, run as fast as you can,” I whispered as the bikes’ engines died.
Joey scrambled off the ground and did as I told him, leaving a plume of red dust in his wake. I think that was the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone run before. Straightening my back, I turned just as Big John walked up the concrete steps.
“That boy sure can run,” he drawled, flicking the cigarette butt on the desert sand. I shielded my eyes from the sun so I could get a better look at him and smiled.
“How long ’till he figures out we ain’t chasin’ him?” he asked.
I scoffed. “Tomorrow maybe. He isn’t the brightest crayon in the box.”
Big John unleashed a heavy chuckle before stepping forward and grabbing the bag from my hand. “Come on, I’ll walk you.” We strode down the concrete path to my bike. John’s crew waited for him on their bikes as he strapped my bag on the tail of the Ninja. This was all too familiar to me.
“Thanks for doing this, B.J.” I smiled at the man who’d saved my ass countless times. John pulled on the bind one more time to make sure it was secure before he handed me my helmet, which was hanging on one of the handles.
“Any time you wanna scare an ex, I’m there.” He chuckled. “You know it was his way of protecting you, right? In his own perverse way, he did it for you.”
“No, John.” I sighed. “Don’s only looking for a way to keep me in the family business. He wants me back for his own benefit.” John reached into his cut to pull out another cigarette. He lit it before releasing a puff of gray smoke into the air.
“Does he know you’re going back home?”
“No, and he won’t be finding out, right?” I asked as I pulled my helmet over my head. John laughed—I always made him laugh—then mumbled something about imports being pieces of shit, but I chose to let it go.
“Nah, I’m staying out of this one,” he said. “You’re staying with my girl, right?” I nodded. John took me into his big frame for a hug. “You tell my girl I love her,” he said around the hard plastic. I smirked even though he couldn’t see me and nodded while I wrapped my arms around his thick neck. John laughed again, then tapped the top of the helmet. “Drive safe,” he grumbled, then threw his cigarette on the ground. He signaled his guys with a whistle, telling them it was time to leave as he jumped on his bike.
With a salute, I gripped the handles of my own, swinging my leg over to straddle the seat. As I turned the key to start my Frog, the rumbles of the five Harleys across from me quieted the sounds of my engine. When they pulled out in a single form, I followed them out of the suburb but then parted ways as the entry for Interstate 515 North came to view. I let out a sigh of relief mixed with sadness. Ten more hours until I would arrive. Destination? Denver, Colorado. Home.
***
I wouldn’t arrive at Jade’s house until almost midnight. I thought I’d be able to drive straight through without stopping, hoping the adrenaline of leaving Nevada would keep me going, but midway through my trip I ended up stopping to stretch my legs and grabbing a bite to eat. I took the opportunity to call Jade and give her an update on the situation, but was pushed straight to her voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said after she told me to leave a message after the beep. “I’m in Utah, four hours away. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and your dad says he loves you.”
I hung up, slipping my phone back inside my bag then shrugged on my tan leather jacket and zipped it up. Straddling my bike, I looked down the endless road of pavement that led home before putting my helmet back on. Now that I was closer to Colorado, I fought harder not to turn back to Nevada. But what would I go back to? A job as a waitress in a shitty diner, or maybe back to Big John where he’d hook me up with one of his boys and become his old lady. Trapped in a life with a criminal cheating husband, as I stayed home obedient while taking care of his rug rats? Hell no, that wasn’t me.
I left Colorado once for a reason. I left to get away from one criminal father, but then ended up being around another. Although Big John wasn’t my biological father, he had as much input raising me as Don. Before John took his crew to Las Vegas, the Sinners Tribe was based in Colorado. He and his seven-year-old daughter had moved in next to us. Since then, Jade and I had been inseparable. She was my first real friend. When I turned eighteen, I left home to attend college in Wyoming, and it didn’t work out very well.
After a lifetime of living the easy way and cutting corners, working like the normal population was extremely hard. So, after struggling for a year, I dropped out, and moved to Vegas to count cards for another year. Then, after almost getting caught, I swore to myself I would never do it again. After that, I met Joey and wasted an entire year on his ass too. So, here I was, going back home. I figured I could go anywhere I wanted, but no state had what Colorado had, and that was Jade.
Turning off the Frog, I hopped off the seat and began to unlatch my bag as the front door of the townhouse opened. It was pitch black, but I still remembered every white piece of siding and every red shutter of this house. I looked up to the sound of the screen door slapping shut. Pete, Jade’s husband, blocked the yellow glow beaming out through the front door with his big frame.
“I could never figure out if you riding a bike was hot, or emasculating,” he said, rounding my bike. I laughed, standing on my tiptoes to hug him.
“How ya been, Pete?”
Pete bent his knees so it was easier for me to hug him. I am height impaired, and Pete is so big he needs to slouch in order to get through doors. We don’t make hugging a habit, because it’s awkward for both of us.
“I’m good. Happy you’re back. I haven’t been able to shut Jade up about you coming back no matter how many times my dick was in her—”
“Okay! I get it, no need to give me any visuals,” I said, pushing him back. Pete chuckled as he softly gave me a push back. Without having to ask, he started untying my bag off the tail end of the bike. Once it was unlatched, he draped it over his shoulder like it was nothing.
“Let’s head inside. Jade should be here in an hour or so.”
I nodded and followed him into the house. Pete showed me my room, the unfinished basement of their rental. It was a concrete slab, the wooden frame of the walls exposed. Jade had attempted to make it look as homey as possible. There were two large gray rugs, one in the center and the other next to the twin size bed that was placed in the corner of the room facing the opening to the stairs. The bed had Jade’s Little Mermaid comforter from when she was eight, with a firm looking yellow pillow against the wall. There was an old seventies style dresser across from the bed, and a floor la
mp that stood next to it.
“This is yours, as long as you want it, Bil,” Pete said as he dropped my bag next to the bed. Radiating with joy, I beamed back at my best friend’s husband. Not many would do what he’s done.
“You’re a good egg, Pete.”
“Back at ya, toots,” he replied while fake jabbing me in the arms. “There’s food on the stove if you’re hungry, and if you want to get clean you’ll have to use the bathroom upstairs. It’s the only one with a shower.”
“Great.” I nodded. “And thanks again, Pete.”
“No problem. Welcome home, Bil.” He ruffled my head before he went up the stairs.
I sighed, looking around my new surroundings. It wasn’t much, but I was thankful to have somewhere to sleep where I knew I was safe, something that didn’t come with any strings attached. Above all, this was temporary; soon enough I’d get an actual job and have enough money to get my own place. I might even go back to school and actually finish this time around.
***
After I showered, I crashed on the tiny bed and didn’t wake up until late the next morning. Well…I was woken up, in the worst way possible. It felt like an air horn went off next to my head. I jerked awake, covering my ears as I watched Jade fall to the floor in laughter.
“You suck!” I yelled. I couldn’t hear anything so my voice was probably off by an octave or two. Throwing the covers off, I flung myself at Jade and sat on her chest, trying my best to immobilize her. Unfortunately for me, Jade was about a foot taller. She was a giant…not really. She was average size, I’m just tiny.
Jade easily bucked me off, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. As my butt landed on the concrete, I reached over, gripping the elastic band of her pajama bottoms and miraculously grabbing onto her underwear as well. Just as I felt the lacey texture, I pulled up, giving her the worst wedgie imaginable. Jade squawked and stood wildly. I was unable to keep it together; I laughed as soon as I heard her holler.
“My love-box!” Jade cried. “I’m going to be pulling out lace for days.” I laughed harder. “You’re a dirty fighter,” she whined, gripping between her legs.
“Hey, man, you’re the one who woke me up with an air horn! You could have caused permanent damage,” I replied. While on my back, I stared up at Jade. She’d gained a little weight, but she was still gorgeous. Her blonde hair was a little longer and she looked older. Standing up, I threw my arms open and hugged her.
“I gained weight,” she said against my neck.
“Bigger boobs never hurt anyone.”
“I’m getting wrinkles,” she whined. She was twenty-three, there was no way she had wrinkles. But I figured she was just saying it to be babied.
“A sign of wisdom,” I countered. Jade chuckled.
“Stop being reasonable and let me vent.”
I let out an amused grunt. “Okay, babe, vent all you want.”
Jade laughed, which made me laugh, but then she sniffled and I stopped instantly.
“Shut up, I’m crying. I’ve missed you. Suck my dick.”
Smiling while tears filled my eyes, I tightened my hold around her.
“Okay, now lick off her tears,” Pete interrupted. He was standing next to the stairs watching us. Jade let go of me, bending to pick up the air horn. She threw it at her husband, hitting him right on the shoulder. “Ouch, baby. I was kidding. Why do you Harden girls always gotta get so violent?” Pete complained while rubbing his hurt shoulder.
I knew it probably did hurt; Jade was a softball superstar in high school. She was known for her fast and hard throws.
“To think, I made you both breakfast.” Pete started walking up the stairs. Jade and I looked at each other before running after him.
“Wait!” we yelled.
“Wait, Pete, look…I’ll lick her,” I said as I grabbed Jade’s face, pulling my tongue from the bottom of her face to her temple.
“Gross, Billie, you haven’t brushed your teeth yet!” she shouted, recoiling.
“That wasn’t part of the deal. I licked you, and therefore I get my bacon.”
Jade and Pete chuckled while they looked back at me. I grinned mischievously. God, it was great being back home with people I loved.
Chapter Two
Christian
I tried to do the gentlemanly thing. I offered to take her to my place or at least to my car. But she was eager to get on with business…or should I say, on her knees. I knew she had told me her name, and I remember it ending in an i, but I was drawing a blank. What was making it harder to remember was having her suck me off in the men’s bathroom at the club I decided to go to tonight, or maybe I just didn’t care enough to remember. I’d gotten here, danced a little, drank a little, and then this girl showed up in a pair of gold shorts and a black top. Completely taking my attention away from everyone else.
Truthfully, she reminded me of a Jack Terrier jumping around waiting for the next ball to be thrown in her direction. An actual ball, not like a testic—anyway, here I was in the farthest stall of the men’s bathroom with the blonde bobbing her head in between my legs. As I went in and out of her mouth, my stare began to wander around the walls of the stall. There was the usual writing you’d see in any public bathroom.
Call for a good time, nothing new. But what really caught my eye was the name next to a list of numbers. Declan Saint John gives the best head. I almost choked on my own spit after I read that. Declan was related to the only girl I had ever fallen for, Ava. Declan and his sister Vanessa would come into the bar from time to time after Ava started working for me. I was a fucking idiot for hiring her, because I knew she didn’t feel the same about me. I’d never been the jealous or possessive type.
Hell, I’ve heard Ava have sex with other guys, because we used to live in the same apartment complex growing up. I’d walked past her getting banged by some neighborhood thug inside a car, or the Laundromat, or even the alley. And every time, it never bothered me. I always figured once she was done getting whatever it was she needed to get out of her system, she’d come back to me, although now something was different. She wasn’t the same girl anymore and there appeared to be another man in her life. Deep down, I knew she wasn’t coming back. So, in honor of that, I was getting head from some random chick.
“Ooh, easy sweetheart, not so much teeth,” I said as she looked up at me. I gently pushed her hair out of her face so I could see her blue eyes better. They were glazed over with a touch of pink in the whites. Suddenly my stomach constricted and bile seeped into it. She was drunk. Not my thing. If I had known that beforehand, I wouldn’t have let her do this to me. Moving to the side, I slid against the wall to detach myself from her face. Quickly, I tucked my shit back into my pants and buckled my belt.
Blondie was still on her knees as she watched me, confused. “You’re drunk,” I clarified. Nearing her, I offered her my hand to help her up. Still with a puzzled look, she took it and stood. Now that she was up and in the scrutinizing florescent lighting of the bathroom, I realized she was very pretty. What intrigued me more was the piercing on her bottom lip. It looked out of place.
“Cute,” I said, tapping the metal. Blondie bit down on it with a smile. “Did you come with friends?” I asked.
She nodded. Taking her hand in mine, I unlocked the door and walked back into the club. As the darkness covered us, the music boomed against our chests, and I bent down to ask her where her friends were. She pointed to a group of girls who stood looking at us from the corner of the club. Tugging her hand, I led her to her friends, giving her a kiss on the cheek before I left.
I sat in my SUV, scrolling down my phone, trying to decide who I was going to call. I still had some stuff pent-up, and I needed a release. None of their names jumped out at me, so I just closed my eyes and called whatever number my finger landed on. When I heard the dial tone I opened my eyes as I called Hannah. Okay, I can work with that. Within the second ring, the call relayed inside my car as the Bluetooth connected to my phone.
“Hey, you,” she answered.
“Where are you?” I asked, pulling out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of her apartment.
“Just got home.” I heard keys hitting a surface in the background.
“Oh, yeah? What did you do tonight?” I asked, looking both ways for incoming traffic.
“There was a gala I had to go to tonight. Work stuff.” Her voice had lowered into a husky undertone.
“So, you’re all dolled up?” I asked, matching her tone.
“I suppose I am. Want to help me undress?” She was being flirty, and I could picture her taking off her glasses and biting down on the earpiece. I groaned.
“What do you think, sweetheart?”
Hannah sucked in a breath, and I felt my pants start to tighten around my crotch.
“Door’s open.”
“Be there soon.” I hung up, then turned on the street that led me away from downtown Denver to University Park. Hannah lived a few blocks away from Blush, my bar. That’s where I met her. She had stopped in for a drink with a friend after work. Hannah was sexy in that secretary kind of way with her caramel colored hair pinned up in a bun and dark glasses. When I asked if she had a boyfriend, she gave me a flirty smile as she sucked on the straw of her fruity purple drink.
She told me she was too busy for boyfriends and wasn’t looking for anything serious. Well, that was music to my ears. Now, Hannah was part of a roster of girls I called whenever I was feeling…lonely. I may sound like an asshole, but I’ve never made promises I couldn’t keep, and I never lead girls into believing I want more. I was just a fan of the female species, and luckily they were a fan of me.
Chapter Three
Christian
I loved and hated coming home. I loved to spend time with my mom, but I hated how much the neighborhood had gone to shit. It was never a treasure of a neighborhood, but growing up it was at least relatively safe. We all took care of each other. After my older brother Roman went to jail, it all seemed to fall apart. It wasn’t long until the rival gangs showed up and started causing bigger problems. Soon after that I had saved up enough money to open my bar. In order to be closer to it, I had to move out of my mother’s apartment and into my own.