Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “How do you know he wouldn’t?” she yelled back.

  “Please,” I scoffed. “That guy probably learned to jack off in a sock. I can guarantee he wouldn’t know how to please you… make you lose your mind.” My voice went low, my physique leaning into her space. She sucked in, her pupils dilating. What the hell are you doing? Back away from her. “You would have faked an orgasm to make him feel better, then walked away dissatisfied, wondering if something was wrong with you, because no man so far has been able to satisfy you. Am I right? Bet you wonder if sex is everything people make it out to be since so far it’s been pretty vanilla. Those guys you screwed before? They were all children and only cared about their own gratification, certainly not yours.”

  Her breath hitched, color flushing up her neck, her jaw setting.

  Bull’s-eye.

  There was no doubt I hit the mark, which made me wonder about previous boyfriends. The sudden urge to track them down and kick the shit out of them vibrated my muscles.

  “Fuck you,” she whispered.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that for your future boyfriends. You’d only compare, and they’d come up short every time.”

  Her lips rolled, and her palm slammed into my torso, trying to move me. I stepped away to let her pass, but she didn’t stomp away like I thought. Kinsley wasn’t the type to back down. Ever.

  She challenged, fought, and stood her ground, even when she was losing. She always had.

  At one time it used to piss me off. Now?

  My teeth crunched together, stopping my brain from finishing the thought. I didn’t want to accept the answer. No. You cannot think of her like that. But my body did not seem to care.

  “You don’t know me. And you certainly don’t control me or tell me what to do.” She stepped up to me, rising on her toes, making my lungs falter at her sudden proximity, the sensual confidence sliding over her figure. “Or who I can fuck.” She emphasized the last word like a taunt, sounding so raw and primal.

  Holy hell. I inhaled through my nose. My dick screamed out, “Me! Pick me!” as it pushed against my jeans.

  She curved one eyebrow, sensing her win as she shoved past me, heading for the bathroom, Goat trotting next to her.

  Taking slow, methodical breaths, I tried to calm myself down, then it hit me. My cheek twitched with a smirk. She may be mad at me, but she didn’t go running back to the asswipe, indicating deep down she agreed with me. He was not worth waking up and hating herself over.

  And you think you are?

  I rubbed my forehead, ambling to the van to grab my blanket, stretching it on the ground and lying down. I tried to shut out the music and voices from the party with my arms behind my head, staring through the trees to the sky. I tried not to think about how easily I walked away from the cute girl who invited me back to her cabin, or the pride I felt that Kinsley wasn’t going back to the kid.

  My head tilted, and I glanced at the bathroom door, Goat still sitting outside it, waiting for her.

  “Goat!” I whistled. “Come here, boy.”

  He sat up, hearing me, his attention flicking from the door to me, but he didn’t leave. She was his person, and I liked how protective and loyal he was of her.

  I shut my eyes, the alcohol sinking me down quickly.

  A whine bolted my lids up. Peering down at my watch, I saw more than thirty minutes had passed. Shit. I must have drifted off.

  Goat whined again, his paw scratching at the bathroom door. I rolled over, fear coiling in my stomach. She was still in there?

  I jumped up, jogging to the restroom.

  “Hey, boy.” I rubbed his head. “It’s okay.” I threw open the door, charging in.

  “Kinsley?” I called out. No response. “Kinsley!”

  A groan came from the last stall, causing me to move toward it.

  “Hey?” I tapped on the door.

  “Go away,” she muttered. Hearing her voice poured relief through me, easing my shoulders down.

  “You okay?”

  “I’m fin—” A dry heave broke off her statement. It sounded like her guts were trying to come up her throat.

  Ah.

  She moaned lowly and spit.

  “Kins, open the door.” My knuckles struck the door again.

  “Go away, Smith. I’m fine,” she croaked.

  “Yeah, you sound like it.” I snorted. “Open this door, Nettles.” The nickname made her groan louder, a tiny whimper following. “If you don’t, I will.”

  She exhaled loudly, the door unlatching. I shoved it open. Pale and sweaty, she fell against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest, her hand running through the hair she had knotted on top of her head.

  “Stop gloating.” She tipped her head back.

  A grin wobbled on my lips. “Didn’t say anything.”

  “Didn’t have to.”

  “Haven’t learned the lesson about mixing beer with hard alcohol yet?”

  “Chalk it up to me being a baby still in diapers.” Her lids parted to glare up at me. “Can you at least let me die alone?”

  “And take all my fun away?” I chuckled, leaning over her. “Doesn’t sound like you got anything left.” My hands wrapped around her biceps. “Come on.”

  She grumbled as I lifted her up. She wobbled on her feet, her head falling forward into my chest.

  “I’m never drinking again.”

  “Until next time.” I wasn’t that old, but I felt like my time for doing stuff like that was centuries ago. Drinking, being young and stupid.

  Free.

  We moved out of the stall. Her muscles trembled, so I kept my arm tight around her as we walked out.

  Goat whined, leaping exuberantly onto Kinsley the moment we stepped out.

  “Come on, little man, Mom’s not feeling too well.” I kept moving, opening up the back doors of the RV and lifting her up onto the bed. She flopped down on her pillow, Goat jumping up next to her. Going to the front to get her water and painkillers, I came back and stopped in my tracks.

  In less than one minute, Kinsley had stripped off her pants. Lying on her stomach, her ass was scarcely covered in some strip of black fabric. The tank top rode high up her back.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath, watching her barely clothed body squirm deeper into her sheets. My teeth crunched together as I shoved the desire to run my palms up the back of her legs, tracing every inch of her skin.

  My Adam’s apple bobbed as I swallowed. “Kins?”

  “Hmmmm?”

  “You need to take these.” I climbed up onto the bed, holding out the water and drugs.

  Half lidded, she turned to me, taking them from my hands and downing the pills before falling back into her pillow. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I set the glass down near her, rubbing Goat’s head. “Night.”

  “Night,” she muttered.

  Sliding out to the ground, I stood there for a moment, everything in me feeling like a tug of war. Exhausted but restless. Irritated but calm. Appalled but horny as hell.

  Savior and villain.

  Sighing, I rubbed my chin, kicking off my boots, ready to climb down on the blanket.

  “Smith?” Her voice was soft.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank. You.” I could hear the genuine sincerity in her tone. And in my head, I wanted to believe it was for more than helping her back to bed.

  “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.” Please. Before I do something stupid.

  She went quiet, and I unbuttoned my jeans, peeling them off to my boxer-briefs, crawling back on the blanket. My gaze drifted back to her, thinking she’d passed out.

  Through the shadows, the light from the restroom glinted over her dark brown eyes as they stared straight at me. Air caught in my lungs as mine met hers, neither of us looking away. Her gaze seemed to cut through me. No emotion showed on her face telling me what she was thinking or feeling, but the intensity gripped my chest and wrapped around my cock like a boa constrictor,
twisting every nerve till it hurt.

  We didn’t look away. Not a word was spoken, not a hint of emotion showed, but I could feel the change in the air, the shifting of roles, putting us on an even plane. I was not an older brother type, she was not the little sister of an ex. No Baby K or Smug Bastard. It was just us.

  But still very much forbidden.

  The air grew thinner, the tension plucking at a string connecting us. The world hazed out and became so taut it strangled me. Her eyes were calling me to her like a siren. My muscles contracted, about to move… to do something beyond stupid… when she suddenly exhaled and rolled over, breaking our contact.

  Oxygen sucked into my lungs as my cock pulsed and my heart pounded.

  What the hell was I about to do? One move and I could have ruined everything. My life was complicated enough, nothing she should be part of.

  If she knew the truth…

  I rested back, my fingers pinching my forehead.

  My dick continued to throb. I could go back and find that girl… But I knew I wouldn’t. She wasn’t what I wanted.

  Waiting until I figured Kinsley was asleep, I wrapped my hand around myself, needing a release. Images of her in the towel, sleeping in her tiny panties, and getting into my face had my hand working harder.

  Being the very asshole I warned her about tonight.

  Chapter 11

  Kinsley

  “You okay?” Smith took a drink of water, looking over at me from the passenger side.

  “Fine,” I clipped, shifting in the seat, my butt aching along with my head. We crossed the border hours earlier into New Mexico, getting me on my original plan to follow Route 66 cross country.

  Smith and I had been mostly silent since we got up, only speaking when necessary. Strain weeded the air like vines cutting into the harshness of the daylight, adding to my headache.

  “Sure. Especially since when a woman says she’s fine, she means it.” He huffed, shaking his head as he looked out the window, the dry high desert landscape rolling by. I figured that would be the end of the discussion, like it ended earlier, but he whipped his head back to me. “Are you seriously mad at me because you didn’t get to fuck that guy?”

  I sucked in, blinking in surprise at his bluntness. I was upset he tried to control me and my decisions, but if I were being totally honest with myself, he did me a favor. In the daylight, I was not sure I would have been too happy with myself. Not that I didn’t need a one-night stand, but I hadn’t been going after Marcus because he was who I wanted.

  My entire problem was sitting to my right.

  Last night I had thought everything was going the way I wanted, flirting with a cute boy. Though the one time he tried to kiss me was sloppy, turning me off, but I didn’t back down. I kept telling myself it was because I just needed one night of sex with someone I’d never see again, denying how many times I turned to see if Smith was watching. A surge of rage burned up the back of my throat when I saw the girl rubbing up against him and leaning into him, her hungry smile and eyes telling me all I needed to know. I acted without thought, driving my legs over to him; the need to tear her away from him vibrated every muscle. I’m doing it for Kasey. She’d want me to keep the girls off him…

  I had no right, no say in what he did, my mouth empty of a reason. When I asked him to watch Goat, I hadn’t even meant it, but I couldn’t deny the need to see a reaction from him. To push him. And get her far away.

  I was a very strong independent woman, but when he tossed me over his shoulder and carried me off… shit. The desire I was hoping to feel for Marcus flared up with a vengeance for someone it shouldn’t.

  “I wouldn’t want to do that for your future boyfriends. You’d only compare, and they’d come up short every time.”

  Tequila was the fight-or-fuck drink. The problem was I had wanted to do both. Only, more so when he carried me out of the bathroom and put me to bed.

  I knew if he had just touched me, I would have attacked him. Ruining everything. I couldn’t have Smith. It was the one thing my head understood, but the rest of me didn’t care.

  My body tensed, and I tried to shove the memory into a box, but it wouldn’t fit, springing out every time he breathed or moved. The reflection of his soft moan, the sound of wet skin as he worked himself in the dark, my eyes watching through my lashes pretending to be asleep.

  Was he wishing he stayed with the other girl? Thinking about his ex?

  I couldn’t look away, tranced by the silhouette of his arm moving up and down in quick strokes. My core throbbed, dripping with need and desire, aching to be touched. The craving between my thighs thumped like a heartbeat. Logic tried to put in Marcus, my ex, even a celebrity, but my head kept seeing him. The fantasy of Smith noticing me watching him, his strong body rising up and sauntering over to me, his eyes sharp on mine, leaving no doubt what we both wanted. His physique crawling over me, the feel of his skin and weight as I wrapped my legs around him. His mouth over my body, on my lips as he sank deep inside me, both of us moaning, giving in to the desire.

  “He was a total asshat.” His deep voice jolted me out of my reverie and back to the present, my head jerking to him, flooding my cheeks with heat.

  If he only knew I was not thinking about Marcus but what I had seen the night before. It was all I could think about, straining the air with anger, embarrassment, shame, and the worst… raw need. Smith was off limits. Someone I didn’t even like. It was just because we were put in this situation, spending long hours together.

  “I promise the next douchebag we meet, I’ll let you screw until your heart’s desire.”

  My mouth twisted, his sentiment causing more irritation to stab up my spine, shifting me in my seat again. I wanted to yell, scream, and I didn’t even know why.

  He peered over at me when I didn’t respond, ire curling over his features as he shook his head. Agitation coiled the space between us. His phone buzzed, tugging his attention to it. An angry sound rumbled in this throat, and he tossed it on the dash, as if he’d like to do the same to the person on the other end.

  “One of your many girlfriends?”

  “I wish,” he muttered, adding to the prickles shooting off my skin.

  “Oh. The ex then.” Jesus, did that sound as snotty as it did to me? Why was I so irritated? He could have as many girlfriends and exes as he wanted.

  “You could say that.”

  “What does that mean? You aren’t actually broken up?”

  His brows furrowed, his gaze going to the side window, his non-answer turning my stomach.

  “Oh.” The single word felt like a bomb, sounding much more turbulent than it should have.

  I shouldn’t have cared at all what his relationship status was. Except Kasey would be very upset, her latest text still sitting in my messages wanting me to send her a picture of him, asking what he was like now.

  “It’s complicated.” He stared out the window.

  “Always is.” Okay, who was the bitch hijacking my voice? I. Don’t. Care. But my mouth kept moving. “When you have a girlfriend, on a trip alone with another, and was about to sleep with someone last night… I could see how things gets complicated.”

  “First, you know nothing about me or what’s really going on.” His head snapped to me, fury igniting his eyes. “Two, I wasn’t going to sleep with that girl.” Total lie. I saw them together. “And last… there is nothing to worry about here.” He motioned between us. “Nothing is going on or ever will. You’re like a little sister to me.”

  Ouch.

  Acid bubbled up my esophagus like a volcano, charring everything as it filled my mouth, pushing out my response like a dragon. “Good thing.” I snapped. “Because I feel the same. Worse, actually.”

  “Good thing then.”

  “Yep, good thing.” I popped my lips, my fingers gripping the wheel so tight it hurt.

  Tension sprang around us like thorns, tearing at our flesh. The silence sat on my chest, squeezing the air from my lung
s. My mind rolled around insults and thoughts until I swore they could be heard out loud.

  We drove in silence, the friction so palpable Goat moved around like he was upset, popping his head between us with a whimper.

  Smith automatically started petting him, cooing softly. His sweetness to my dog only brushed at my skin wrong, locking my teeth together.

  I hate him. I hate him.

  The problem was I didn’t have anything to back it up anymore—or maybe ever. And I wanted to… needed to. Desperately.

  I couldn’t be attracted to Smith. The Smug Bastard himself. No. That was not an option. Holding on to my twelve-year-old hate for the arrogant guy was in my best interest. And honestly, he hadn’t seemed to change. Still the same cocky asshole.

  “Turn in there.” Smith jabbed his finger at a rest stop not far away.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just turn in,” he huffed, spiking the need to push on my gas and keep driving. But for some reason, I swerved the van to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge rest stop parking lot, pulling roughly into a spot.

  “There! Are you happy?”

  He glared over at me as he got out, the door slamming.

  “Should we take off, Goat?” I rubbed my dog’s head. “Leave him here?”

  Goat climbed into Smith’s vacated seat, staring out the window and whimpering.

  “Traitor,” I muttered. With a heavy sigh, I climbed out of the RV, leashing Goat. I slowly tracked toward the bridge everyone was walking, letting him sniff and take care of business, getting in some exercise.

  At first the area looked flat, dry, and kind of ugly, until the gorge came into view, making me gasp. Vast, dramatic, rugged, and beautiful, like a mini Grand Canyon, the Rio Grande River rushed far below, sparkling under the heat of the day.

  Groups of people huddled on the bridge, taking selfies and watching something I couldn’t yet see, piquing my interest.

  Smith’s broad shoulders, trim waist, and an ass no one could help but notice were the only things I noticed, making me look away as a mix of heat and anger collided in my chest. Goat lurched forward, padding happily toward Smith.