by CC Monroe
Contents
Also by CC Monroe
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue
Afterword
About the Author
Copyright © 2021 by CC Monroe
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published by Boom Factory Publishing, LLC.
Cover Design and formatting by Juliana Cabrera, Jersey Girl Design
Edited by Kayla Robichaux
CC Monroe, CONTRIBUTOR to the Original Works was granted permission by Aurora Rose Reynolds, ORIGINAL AUTHOR, to use the copyrighted characters and/ or worlds created by Aurora Rose Reynolds in the Original Work; all copyright protection to the characters and/ or worlds of Aurora Rose Reynolds in the Original Works are and shall continue to be retained by Aurora Rose Reynolds. You can find all of Aurora Rose Reynolds Original Works on most major retailers. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic, photocopying, mechanical or otherwise, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, story lines and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, events, locales or any events or occurrences are purely coincidental.
Also by CC Monroe
Always and Forever Series
Always the One
Always Us
Forever the One
Forever Us
The Loving Series
Loving Ben Cooper
Loving Kate Beckett
Co-written with KD Robichaux
Steal You: A Standalone Dark Romance
Number Neighbor
To Have and To Hold
Bad Medicine (Coming October 2021)
Crossover Series w/ Aurora Rose Reynolds
Until Kayla
Until Mercy
Until Brew
Prologue
JJ Marie
I moved into this town, and immediately, the rumors started circulating. There was something about the men here, something in the way they moved, and the way they sweet talked—and dirty talked.
But mostly, the rumors surrounded the way they possessed what they deemed theirs. Just like that whole “the man, the myth, the legend” thing. Here in this town, those types of men were the legends all the women wanted.
Hearing that, I threw my head back, laughing. For sure this was a joke and a very comical one at that. But the most comical part of all—I became the punchline of my very own joke, when I met Brew and he did exactly that. Possessed me. Claimed me. Made me a puddle of a woman at his feet. I became the center of my very own laughter fest.
Chapter One
JJ
“Pick up, pick up!” I whisper, a touch of anxiousness, but there’s enthusiasm behind the demand. Looking around the office through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, I wait for my best friend, Chrystal, to answer me.
“Better be good. I was just in the middle of the season finale of The Bachelor,” she finally answers, and instantly my eyes roll, but that fades fast. My exciting news overshadows her answer.
“That show is trash, but whatever, it is good! You know that interior design job I applied for in Tennessee? The one with all the multimillion-dollar homes and clients?” I bite at my bottom lip, chomping at the bit to just get to the point. That’s always who I have been. A “get to the point and no bullshitting” type of gal.
“My show is not trash; it's romantic. And is that a serious question? This is literally all we’ve been talking about and hoping for.”
“I got it! I fucking got it, Chrys!”
“Oh my God!” I hear the sound of clattering in the background. I’m sure it’s the remote and her bowl of popcorn she always eats during her reality show binges hitting the floor.
I’ve been working for Lottie Interior Designs in New York for six years now, and this may be—no, it is the biggest job I’ve landed, and it could open the door to an abundance of opportunities that I could drown in. Chrystal, she is the icing on the cake. Sure, it’s only a short gig, a six-month stay, but the chance, the opportunity, and of course the time I’ll have to spend with my best friend is overwhelmingly incredible.
Interior design is my passion, it’s what I’m best at. Others would say it’s my stubborn, sarcastic, and comedic traits that I’m best at, but that isn’t where I feel I shine. God, I’ve wanted this so bad it feels surreal. Like I could reach out and grab it, but it would be like grabbing at a cloud.
“Babe!” Chrystal yells to her husband, Dominic. “JJ got the job. She’s coming here! Ahh! Oh shit, wait, when do you get here?” She stumbles over her words, just as enthusiastic as I am about this news. I giggle.
“As soon as possible, the construction team has already begun, and some of the houses are ready for move in, and the clients are putting in request. They want me to look into adding on some team members from the office, you know, for the extra help, so I’m not drowning.” Biting my lip, I look back up from my desk and out at my coworkers rushing about, coming in and out of cubicles. That was me not long ago, dying to be on the other side of this glass, styling houses and creating homes for families to grow in. Now I’m here, and who knows what will be waiting for me when I get out on the other side of this opportunity.
“Please, you could be solo on this and not get behind. This is your dream, JJ, and you’ve chased and worked so hard. I bet I’ll never even see you unless I pull you out by your hair from time to time.” We both laugh.
“You have a point, but as much as this is amazing for my career, it’s just as, if not more, special to get time with you. It’s been so long, and then you had to go to grad school and find that husband of yours.”
She sucks at her teeth. “Hey, watch your words. You know what I’ve told you about the men here.”
Rolling my eyes, a thing a tend to do a lot with Chrys, I brush it off. “No, this is a job. I’m there for six months, and I don’t think any man could make me fall in love enough to want to leave New York and settle down in Podunk town.”
“Hey now, this is Tennessee, not Podunk, and you’ll see what I mean. They are everywhere. They’re legends, and the second I saw Dom and then when I saw his cock, I—ahh!” she screams before I get the chance to cut her off. The phone makes a ruffling noise before a familiar male voice comes through.
“JJ. Glad to hear the news, but it seems my old lady needs a stern talking to. She’ll have to call you back.”
Shaking my head and dare I say blushing, I agree with him, saying goodbye and hearing Chrystal yell how excited she is for me and she’ll call me in the morning.”
A few minutes pass, the excitement simmering to a slow burn, my adrenaline settles, and I look around my office, replaying the amazing news in my head. Knowing I fly out in three days and have so much to do, I get back to it. Planning my project team and booking their flights.
No time to waste, Tennessee and opportunity is calling.
Chapter Two
>
Brew
“Fuck.” Throwing my head back under the water, I squeeze my cock, coming hard. The growl that leaves me echoes in the bathroom, and this time I’m so damn pent up I nearly lose my footing. It’s been a while since I’ve been buried in a woman. My ex was psycho enough to turn me off of the idea of dating, and random fucking would be at my fingertips in this town, but I don’t need another crazy bitch trying to tie me down.
For three years, I broke my one rule. No tie-downs, no commitment. But Lacey, she knew what she was doing, a master manipulator, and I fell for it, a thirty-year-old man falling for childish games. When I found out she was trying to get pregnant so I would pop the question, I kicked her to the curb. Finally seeing it. Tack on a few more months of her begging and doing everything crazy in the book to get me back, I decided my hand will do for now.
My breathing comes back to normal, and I finish cleaning myself up after a long day of working at my company’s current construction site, then working on my bike at the club today. I’m a member of Brew’s Crew. No, we aren’t those types of bikers, the kind you see on TV shows. Smugglers, arms dealers, and more. Don’t think that we don’t do favors when it comes to protecting the good people of our town. I’ve dealt with abusers, attackers, stalkers, and a laundry list of bad guys. But for the most part, my club is for bikes, whiskey, women, and shooting the shit.
Getting dressed in sweats and nothing else, I head to the kitchen to heat myself up some food that my mother brought over. Something about me eating Hungryman Meals and it not being sustainable. I’m thirty, and she still meddles. Love the woman. She’s the only woman I love. But if I have to listen to her tell me one more time about how she wants grandbabies and for me to settle down with a "nice’girl,” then I just might have to start screening my calls.
Heating up the meatloaf, I grab my phone off the counter and start scrolling through the news articles. Finding nothing interesting, I move on by the time the food is ready. Sitting at the table, my phone rings after I’m only a bite in.
Mom flashes across the screen, and I take brief second, wondering if she’s psychic. If I don’t answer, she won’t stop calling.
“Ma. What’s up?”
“Hey, son, how was work today?” The twang in her thick North Carolina accent comes through the phone. She moved here and met my dad when she was twenty, and in the thirty years I’ve been alive, her voice hasn’t changed one bit.
“Fine, just another day on the job. You ask me this every day, Ma, and it’s not going to change.”
“Well, I’m not going to stop. I’m your mama, and I want to make sure you are safe.” The fact that she has to ask me, the six-foot three, solid wall of muscle, with a background in the type of self-defense I have, is truly an example of just how she can be. I’ll always be her little boy. The only child, and I hate it every day. Too bad I didn’t have a sister for her to pester with all her worry.
“Work was fine. Nothing fell on me, and I didn’t lose a finger. Happy?” I tell her, taking another bite.
“Good. Are you eating the food I made?”
“Yes, Ma. What is really going on? What do you need to talk about?” Turns out, it’s nothing but the same old, same old, and I entertain her, because I know she’ll rest easier.
Finishing up the call, my body aches, and I decide I should probably hit the sack. I have a busy week ahead, and its only Monday. Heading into the bathroom, I apply some of my beard oil into my easily tamed beard. My brown eyes peer over the scars from a few of the fights I got into as a teen and over the years. They’ve mostly faded along my defined eight-pack, but you can still see some as if they were new. Not lingering there too long, I release a deep breath, running my hand over my fresh buzz cut. Grabbing my toothbrush, I get that out of the way and lock up the house.
Thinking I’ll hit the bed and zonk out instantly, I’m proven wrong. I feel this weird feeling coming over me, like something is going to happen. Unable to pin it down, I pull my Glock from my nightstand and place it under the pillow next to me. When the feeling slowly simmers, my brain quiets, and the night takes me away. Why do I feel like I need something but can’t figure out what? That thought drives me mad enough until the darkness consumes me.
Chapter Three
JJ
“Mr. Jeffs, I selected the team and booked all the flights. I wanted to confirm you received all the information?” As I knock on my boss’s slightly ajar door, he tells me to come in with the twitch of his fingers.
“JJ, yes, I did, but you are missing Parker. I added him to the team, and I will need you to get his flight squared away for tomorrow as well.”
Instantly, my natural reaction to cringe and protest nearly overwhelms me, but I swallow that.
Parker is Mr. Jeffs’ son, and he has made it very clear his intention is to pursue me outside the office. And despite my many polite declines, rejections, and flat-out more aggressive no’s, he still tries to ask me out once a week. Which, I don’t see how he would find me to be his type. Parker… well, he’s entitled. Forget that—he’s spoiled, and I imagined his type to be a bleached out, plastic head-to-toe bimbo.
I’m not unattractive, per se, but I’m not like those women. I have striking blue eyes—Chrys says they look icy sometimes—and my jet-black hair is streaked with hints of purple. I dress modestly, with the exception of my shoes, always sky-high and pointed. A girl can never go wrong with a great pair of shoes. My makeup is another form of expression I like to use, and that includes eyeliner that highlights the blue of my eyes and a blood-red lipstick. No pink, no cleavage, and no desperation for his attention, but not to him. Clearly.
It’s six months, JJ. Just make it through and you can take on the world with the clientele list you build there. I repeat this in my head over and over again before finally conceding.
“Yes, sir, will do. I will get that together, and I will call you when I get to Tennessee. I have also emailed you the funding budget and outline for pricing that we will be giving the clients. Please email me any adjustments you may feel are needed.”
“Perfect, always on top of it, JJ. Enjoy and have fun. Make the company look good. See ya in six months.” Mr. Jeffs has always been such a kind man, so I take his parting words with a gracious smile and nod.
“Thank you, sir. You too.” Exiting his office, I nearly get knocked on my ass by Parker. He grabs me by my upper arms, his hands grazing the sides of my breasts, and I know that was no accident.
“JJ, you need to be careful around here in those heels. We can’t have the most beautiful face in the office getting marred.” His comment causes all the nerves in me to run cold, and the feminist in me tries her hardest to not let that get to me.
“Parker. Mr. Jeffs has asked me to book your flight for tomorrow to join my team for the six months in Tennessee.”
“My father, you can just say that.” He chuckles, but that laugh has undertones that reek of arrogance.
Once again, I repeat in my head, I love my job, I love my job. Soon enough, he will no longer be an issue, and I can start my own business.
“Parker, I get that your father owns the company, and while I appreciate him, I will not continue to have this type of conversation with you. Stop talking about anything that is not work related. Okay?” I can bite my tongue; I’m a tough girl with a backbone as strong as my mother’s. And if he weren’t my boss’s son, these types of conversations would go very differently. Like my knee to his balls and a tug on the ear with me growling a threat in it. My parents are proud of the little girl who grew into an independent, take no shit type of woman.
“Ouch. That hurt the ego a bit, dare I say bruised it?”
I snicker sarcastically. “Parker, your ego is too big to be bruised. Don’t flatter yourself. I will book your ticket. Have a good day.” I move past him, not giving him a chance to argue me on it or contribute another asinine comment. I feel those seedy eyes on my retreating form, but I don’t drop my head in shame. I will never let a ma
n belittle me or intimidate me.
The rest of the day rushes on, and before I know it, I’m in my apartment sipping on some wine with my mother, while we pack and talk about all the new things I plan to try for these new houses. Dad is in the living room with a beer, watching the game, but he comes in to check on us every once in a while.
“You really are amazing sweetie, and I’m so proud. This is going to be the best experience of your life, and just think—it’s just a steppingstone to your own business.”
Pearl, my mother, is not wrong. In fact, my nerves and the impatient side of me is dying to get there, finish the job, update my portfolio, and run.
“It is. I wish Parker wasn’t going to be there, but I won’t let him deter me from making this amazing.”
“The little shit, still messing with my little girl?” my father, Jonah, asks, stepping into the room in the middle of my sentence.
“I second that one, baby,” Mom adds.
“Yeah, he is, but I got it handled.”
“You sure? Because I can handle it in ways you can’t, being your job and all.”
I giggle. “What, you know the mafia or some big, bad Sons of Anarchy bikers who are gonna take him out?”
Mom snorts, and I shoot her a wink.
“No, but my two fists can sure handle it.”
