Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by Stacey Marie Brown

  The sensation of hot needles piercing through my skin pushed a shrill scream from my lungs, lurching me forward on my hands and knees. The pain was so excruciating that darkness circled my vision, bile burning up my throat.

  “Kinsley!” I heard my name being shouted, a massive figure running for me through the dark, Goat loping next to him. Smith’s feet stumbled when he spotted me…

  My shorts and underwear were around my knees, my bare ass up in the air.

  Kill me now.

  Agony overtook any pride or decorum I had as I tried not to vomit, liquid trickling down my face. Goat reached me first, whimpering and licking my cheek, sensing something was wrong.

  “Fuck! What happened?” Smith dropped down next to me. Peering around, he quickly assessed the spiky cactus behind me, which was good, because if I opened my mouth, I’d probably throw up. “Shit.” His hand came to my lower back, the other one touching my arm. His concern only added to Goat’s anxiety, whose whimpers grated at my heart. “I can’t see anything here. Can you walk?”

  Taking deep breaths, debating between vomiting and passing out, I grunted, my head nodding, though I wasn’t sure I knew if I could even lift my head.

  With another lick from Goat, I tried to push myself up. Smith’s hold tightened, taking a lot of my body weight as I slowly stood, swallowing back the bile. My bottoms dropped to my feet.

  “Oh.” I grunted, reaching down for them.

  “Forget them,” Smith ordered, snatching them off the ground. “You can’t put them on anyway. Not until I see if you have anything lodged in your skin.”

  Tugging at my tank to at least cover my front a little, I let Smith partially carry me back to the campsite, Goat bounding around us with a yip, alert and concerned.

  “Lay on your stomach.” Smith helped me step up into the back of the van to the built-in platform bed. Even through the pain, I cringed at how much of me he was seeing. This crossed all kinds of lines and was completely wrong. But all I could do was face-plant onto the duvet, Goat leaping up with me, curling next to my head, once again knowing I needed his calming comfort.

  Smith turned on the inside light and slammed through the cupboards, finding what he needed before returning to me in the back.

  “Here. Take these.” He handed me a bottle of bourbon he had bought at the store and several Tylenol. I downed them as he turned on a lantern to get better light on me, the first aid kit next to him.

  My ass was already on fire, but it was like I could feel his gaze center on that area, like ray beams. He sucked in a breath, a tiny grunt huffing through his nose.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “Nothing.” His hand feathered from my lower back to the one butt cheek that took most of the attack. His touch flushed my entire body with heat and awareness. As I took several more swigs of alcohol, a breath of numbness ebbed the throbbing agony.

  “You’re lucky. Looks like it was a stout spine cactus.”

  “Lucky?” I grumbled.

  “Yeah, these are painful, like thick spikes stabbing you, but they don’t embed in your skin. Those are fucking painful and a lot harder to get out.”

  Another gulp of bourbon and I felt my head sag forward into Goat’s fur, using him as a pillow. He made a little noise and tucked deeper into my neck for comfort, easing some tension. Damn, I loved this dog.

  “Let me boil some water. I need to clean it.”

  I grunted in response.

  “Did I not tell you to be careful? Thought even a city girl would know not to pee on a cactus.”

  “Screw you,” I muttered into the bed. “I fell into one… Scorpion.”

  “Scorpion?” His voice rose. “Were you stung?”

  “No… I booted it before I fell on my ass… into the cactus.”

  There was a beat before a booming laugh filled the cabin. “Jesus, what I would have given to see that go down.”

  Too tired to reply, I held up my middle finger, causing another gruff of laughter. “Be back.” He slid out of the van, moving around. I heard a pot clanking on the camping stove while I suckled the bourbon like it was a baby bottle, every sip lessening my pain and cares. He returned, moving in next to me, setting down a bowl of soapy water on a built-in ledge similar to a nightstand.

  “This will sting.” Water sloshed, drops of warm water falling on my skin, trailing down my thigh. I dug my head deeper into Goat as the fabric touched my skin, his gentle touch skating over the top of my ass, moving down. I sucked in, my tender wounds responding to the initial contact. But after a while, it dimmed into a low ache, the alcohol numbing the pain, but oddly heightening the awareness of his touch to the point it was the only thing I was aware of.

  “You seem to know what you are doing.” I talked, trying to distract myself.

  “Had years of practice covering and mending wounds.” The underlying meaning of his words lashed at my heart. As a kid I didn’t involve myself in his life, but now I looked back wishing my family and I had done more for him.

  “I heard about your father.” I balked as he touched a tender spot. “I’m sorry.”

  The tension in the van rose, his silence filled with resentment and angry. “Yeah, well, it is what it is.” His voice was clipped.

  “He was still your father.” I tried to hint I understood more than what was being said.

  “Didn’t make him a good man.”

  “And that doesn’t mean you still didn’t love him.” His muteness and awkwardness expanded until I spoke again. “You didn’t go to his funeral?”

  “No,” he gritted. “Couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh.”

  This time I stayed quiet, dropping my head back into Goat’s fur. Smith dipped the cloth in the warm, soapy water, moving it back on my butt, forcing a hiss from my teeth.

  “Sorry.” His husky voice traveled down my spine, curving between my legs. The washcloth swept over the curve of my ass, cutting close to the seam. Slowly. Sensually. A flush of heat spread over me. My breath stumbled, my heart picking up pace, my nipples tightening.

  I tried to dig through and find that logical part of my brain, but I couldn’t hold on to anything, getting lost in the sensation, my body responding without any notice to my brain. My back curved, inching my ass up a little higher.

  He sucked in, his touch halting so briefly I could have imagined it. But I heard a tiny voice inside me yelling at me to stop, locking my bones in place. He lifted the cloth away, and I was sure he’d say he was done, but I heard the cloth dip into the soapy water again, the saturated fabric touching my other cheek. That side barely had been touched, but his attention didn’t skimp, the fabric tracing and wiping over the skin with care. The silence seemed to choke the air as his hand curved the bottom of my butt, a trail of water slipping through my thighs to my core. A moan strangled my throat, my teeth clenching to keep it locked inside; the sudden need to be touched exploded through me like a fire.

  Stop! Danger! A voice tried to scream, but all I could feel was the tightness in my breasts, the desire to open my legs spinning my head. What was wrong with me? Sure, I enjoyed sex, but even drunk with Ethan, I never felt like I needed it so bad I would actually break. My body trembled as I fought against every instinct, wanting to curve into his touch, to demand more. It’s Smith. You hate him. The argument did nothing.

  The shift in the air prickled against my already tender skin, his hand sliding back deliberately to the other side, the texture of the cloth grazing my core. This time I couldn’t stop my response, my lips parting in a breathy gasp, my back lifting.

  It was as if someone punched a hole through the top of the van and dumped ice-cold water on us. Smith jerked back with a hiss, shattering the bubble, flooding soberness back into my brain.

  What the fuck? What was I about to do?

  “Uh.” Smith swallowed audibly, shifting away. “I’m done.” His tone was cold and distant as he scooted away, climbing out of the van.

  “Thanks.” A hoarse whisper barely
made it out.

  “You should sleep like that, let the wounds breathe. Then you can bandage it in the morning.”

  I nodded, not able to look at him. Goat’s head darted between us, signaling he also felt the sudden change.

  “Well, night,” Smith said briskly.

  “Night.” I grabbed a blanket, draping it over my lower half, not carrying about anything but needing to cover myself. Vulnerable. Naked. Everything felt too much.

  Smith moved around, shutting off the van light and grabbing a jacket from his bag. I heard him settle back on the blanket by the fire, every move brisk and icy.

  Goat stood, peering at Smith with his ears up, almost like he was upset Smith was sleeping over there.

  “Hey, boy.” I patted the spot next to me. He gave Smith one last look before he circled and plopped down.

  Tension crackled through me; my body was slightly pissed at the one-eighty turn, almost to the point I debated if I needed to relieve the ache. But I fought against the idea, trying to recall that I not only didn’t like Smith, but he was completely off limits. Forbidden territory.

  After a while the crackle of the fire, the soothing warmth of Goat curled into me, and the painkillers and alcohol allowed my mind to finally shut down. The exhaustion pulled me under, letting me forget my pain.

  Too bad it didn’t last.

  Chapter 6

  Smith

  Fuck.

  I flopped on my back with a heavy exhale, a rock digging into my spine. Dawn finally hinted on the horizon after a long tortuous night, sleep finally taking me for a few hours.

  My head twisted to the side as I glared at the culprit, the light outlining her figure, the dog cuddling next to her, making me shift with annoyance.

  A growl hummed in my throat, and my head darted back up to the sky as I tried to ignore the twitch in my cock, the memories of last night wove into a knot of disgust.

  You are a sick bastard, I scolded my dick. She was like a little sister, my mate’s baby sister…

  The last time I saw her she was all of thirteen, a moody teenager. Gawky, quiet, but with a sharp tongue and wit when it came to insulting me. I didn’t give her much thought except for annoying her when I could. Her dislike of me balanced out Kasey’s like of me. Kasey was gorgeous and popular, and even though her type A personality drove me insane, I still enjoyed the attention. I was a horny teenager, and she was persistent. Though her brother threatened my life, Kasey was hard to turn down, and she wanted nothing more than to do what no other had and claim me as her boyfriend. I was always honest with her, but it didn’t sway her. We had fun, but I hadn’t thought of her much since the day I walked away from town.

  The Maxwell house had been my only sense of normalcy. No matter how much they bickered, you couldn’t hide the love, the affection, the stability. Something I craved.

  And my sixteen- to eighteen-year-old self found their house always stocked full of food with a game room downstairs and a hot girl constantly prancing around me in tiny outfits, grabbing me to make out in her room. All of this was far more appealing than the hatred and violence in mine.

  The Maxwell’s always welcomed me, but I knew the moment the final bell rang and I was officially done with school, I was gone. I wanted to leave everything behind. It was only a few weeks ago on social media Kyle and I reconnected, and he invited me to his wedding.

  Yesterday, when Kyle told me Kinsley would come get me, my mind still pictured the girl wearing braces and oversized clothes, like she had been trying to disappear under them. Her dark hair was always in a braid, her deep chocolate eyes stabbing through me, a scowl on her face when she spotted me.

  She had the same intense eyes that peeled away your skin, and the scowl was still there, but…

  I was not expecting her.

  Baby K was grown up and fucking hot as hell. Fit, long legs, stunning face, and enough curves to have to fight the desire to trace every inch of her with my eyes. I fought like hell to keep my gaze on hers when she walked in. She normally wasn’t my type. I liked them curvy, fake or not, but my dick didn’t get the memo.

  Our dislike of each other stepped right back in as if not a day had passed, but her sharp tongue gave me depraved thoughts about what I wanted to do with it this time.

  What the fuck is wrong with you? She is little Kinsley Maxwell. Stop being a creeper, asshole.

  I adjusted the jeans I slept in that were straining against my dick, another long sigh pushing out of my lungs. I went to bed hard and annoyed and woke up hard and annoyed. The million missed phone calls and texts didn’t help either. I shut off my phone, trying to ignore the problems following me.

  Hearing her scream last night, I moved without thought, panic ripping through me thinking she was being attacked by a wild animal, adrenaline controlling my actions, doing what I needed to. That was until I had her perfect bare ass in my face, my hand running over her tender skin. Seeing all of her when I picked her up off the desert floor, I couldn’t stop my dick from going hard. I tried to ignore it, repeating over and over she was like a sibling. Denying I had fooled around with her older sister. But when her back arched, a quiet moan escaping her lips… all that was forgotten.

  I knew if I didn’t get the hell away from her, I would do something that would have ended with regret and a knee in my groin. She was tipsy enough her body was responding, but in no time her mind would have caught up and freaked out. She had an excuse; what was mine?

  The rough ground dug into my back, finally getting me up, my bones popping from sleeping on the ground. I was twenty-seven but felt so much older. Not that I ever got to be a kid. When you had to grow up fast, one year could feel like ten. And the shit coming at me now… I might as well be double my years, which made our age difference feel like decades instead of years.

  She was still a kid and was so innocent to the betrayal, violence, and ugliness in the world compared to what I had been through.

  Stretching, I reached up over my head, working the knots out of my muscles. It was still cool, and I had a desperate need to run, to shake off the agitation and clear my head. Quietly heading to the van, Goat’s head popped up at hearing me. He was a cute little guy with his floppy ears, and I could see he was very protective of Kinsley.

  Opening the side door, I reached for my saddlebag, a pair of running shoes and shorts. As quiet as I tried to be, Kinsley stirred and rolled over.

  “Holy fuck!” A loud cry whimpered from her lips, snapping my attention to her. She flopped back on her stomach, the blankets slipping off her, her teeth chomping into her bottom lip, her fingers curling into fists.

  “You okay?” My voice came out low and choppy, causing her to jerk with surprise. Pain dampened her forehead with sweat.

  “Peachy.” She sucked in, her fingers tightening around her comforter. Abandoning my plan, I grabbed more painkillers and moved around to the rear of the van.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” She reached for the blanket, trying to place it better over her ass.

  “Oh, now you’re getting shy?” I chuckled, handing her the pills and water while I relocated the first aid kit. “Little too late for that, Nettles. And nothing I haven’t seen before.” I sounded bored, trying to convince myself her bare bottom was nothing special. I had been with a lot of women, some models, actresses, and celebrity workout trainers with the tightest figures I’d ever seen. Hers should be nothing special…

  Keep telling yourself that.

  “Nettles?” Her nose wrinkled.

  “Like it?”

  “No.”

  “That or Baby K. Take your pick.” I grabbed tubes of Neosporin and Cortisone cream. Mentally hanging up a picture of thirteen-year-old Kinsley with a mouth full of braces to keep my mind on the task.

  “Lose the blanket.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “I need to put this on your wounds.” Annoyance trickled into my tone.

  “Fuck no.” Her head waggled, her loose, long hair tumbling over
her face, stubbornness pinching her lips. “I’ll do it.”

  “Seriously?” I huffed. “You think seeing a bare ass gets me off? Please, Baby K, I’ve seen hundreds, and yours is nothing special.”

  Her lids narrowed lower. “I never said mine was special, or you would be getting off on it… though I’d be surprised you could still get it up at your age.”

  “Oooohhhh.” My head jerked back; a surprised guffaw puffed up my lungs. “It’s like that, huh?”

  A proud grin played on her mouth, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “What’s wrong, Grandpa, can dish it out, but can’t take it?”

  “You really want to start this game, little girl?” I lifted an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on my face.

  “Please, I’ll just be getting started when you need a nap.” She tapped her finger to her chin. “I’ll have to google when and where we can get deals for senior citizens and cheap dinners served at 4:30.”

  I snorted, my head shaking. “All right.” I tossed the creams at her, sliding out of the van. “Have at it.”

  She took them, the playfulness falling from her face as she stared at the tubes, but she didn’t say anything. Wandering back to the stove, I put on a kettle, pulling out two tin mugs for coffee, my eyes sliding more than I wanted back to her.

  Twisting, her teeth digging into her lip, she barely touched cream on her right cheek, pain crackling through her expression as she sharply inhaled air.

  “Got to actually rub it on for it to work.” I chuckled from my place, turning the flames up higher.

  “Screw you.” She huffed through her gritted teeth.

  “If that will help.” The words came out of my mouth before I could even filter them, causing my entire frame to freeze; my eyes stayed on the kettle.

  What the hell? Stop perving on a kid.

  Granted, five years were nothing now, but it was when you knew someone at a time that the five years were between a child and an adult. It was everything then.