“Don’t,” I growled.
“Don’t what? Tell you the truth? I tried to see you so many times. Please let me explain.”
“You have nothing to say I want to hear,” I spat, moving around in the narrow hallway. “Go away, Becca. This time for good.”
“I know you don’t mean that.” She sniffed. She always knew I hated when she cried, and I would do anything to make it stop.
Not anymore. “Dry the crocodile tears. I’m not your patsy anymore. Try that shit on your next victim. How is Bryan anyway?”
“Smith…” Her voice cracked. “Let me see you. Talk. Tell you my side.”
“I don’t care.”
“I love you, Smith… and I know you still love me.”
A nerve along my neck jumped, fury burning in my chest. My silence had hope jumping in her voice like leaping frogs.
“Please. I will come to you. I need to see you. Talk face to face.”
“No.”
“I found where you live now. I will find you again. I will find you anywhere.”
“You stalking me?”
“It’s not stalking when you love someone.”
“You don’t have a clue what love is. I gave you everything and you shattered it into pieces. Betrayed and burned it.” I gritted my teeth, tasting bitterness. “There is only one thing I want from you now. Until then… fuck off, Becca, and stop calling me.”
I hit the button, growling as I shoved my cell back into my pocket. My frame vibrated with rage and pain.
“Fuck!” I hit the wall, hating how fast she could flip my mood. The power she still had over me roared fury under my skin like a volcano, ready to explode.
Rolling my fingers into balls, I squeezed until my bones cracked with the pressure. She was a reminder to never let someone crawl in so deep, to take everything from me, and crush my life in their hands as if it were a toy.
Taking a few more breaths, I tried to still the beast underneath, moving to Kinsley’s door, my fist pounding on it.
Several moments later she swung it open, halting the air in my lungs.
Yep, I was definitely in hell.
She wore a short black summer dress, with her long, shiny hair down and loose, sandals, and a layered necklace that dipped down past her breasts. Simple, but she looked breathtaking, stealing all of my air. Which pissed me off.
Kinsley was my friend’s sister. A little brat I knew a long time ago. She did not have any power over me, and the stupid slip-up between us was just that. Stupid mistake.
“Ready?” she asked briskly and brushed past me, slamming her door.
Someone was in a mood as well.
Twisting to follow her, I groaned inwardly.
Like her tank the other night, the dress was backless… sans bra.
Damn! Life was out to torment and punish me.
“This one will level you.”
No. She wouldn’t.
I wouldn’t let anyone do that to me again.
Chapter 15
Kinsley
The sun had long since been down, but the heat still throbbed off the cobble streets, the thick air whispering down my neck, circling me like a seductress. I had only been here a day, but I had already fallen in love with it.
The day of being alone with Smith had gone better than I thought. I had focused on the sights, my resentment at him fading slightly.
Until my sister called.
“Why aren’t you here yet?” she huffed over the phone.
“Kase, you know I’m not getting there till Tuesday.” The wedding fell on the Saturday after I arrived, rehearsal dinner on Friday. My Wednesday and Thursday were already taken up with bridesmaid duties. I really did like Amie; she was like another sister now. But I kind of wished she left me out of the party. She had so many friends who would kill for my spot, but out of obligation, she asked me. Her bridal party was crazy, something like ten girls. A party of ex-cheerleaders, prom queens, and school presidents who all went to school together. I again felt like the girl photoshopped in who didn’t really belong. Would they even miss me?
“You better be ready the moment you arrive. There is still so much to do. Amie’s order from my flower shop is killing me. I need you here, Kins.”
“Tuesday. All yours.” I pushed the cell to my ear with my shoulder, strapping on my nicer sandals. Smith had said dress a little nicer. I didn’t have much, but thought my backless cotton dress worked well. Casual, but still had the back that made it a bit sexier.
I didn’t care if Smith liked it, but who knew what cute guys would be at the bar tonight. This place was full of opportunities and bad decisions.
“Soooo?” Kasey’s tone told me exactly where this conversation had turned to. “How’s my future husband?”
“You know how psychotic you sound, right? You haven’t seen him in nine years.”
“Doesn’t matter. I feel I could see him in twenty, and we’d still have that thing. Just the few times we’ve communicated, I could feel the chemistry sizzling still. I’m telling you, Kins, he is the one.”
“You can feel the chemistry through a text, really?” I replied dryly.
“Oh, we’ve also talked on the phone.”
“What?” My body bolted upright, my hand grabbing my cell.
“Oh my god, is his voice sexy. Reminds me of an actor… can’t recall the name. But so deep and sexy. He got me wet with just a few words.”
“You talked to him?” Smith said she texted him, not called. Was he secretly playing with us both?
He’s not playing with you. He flat out turned you down. Yeah, after his fingers had been inside you.
He hadn’t even kissed me. Because that was personal. I was simply a warm body, and he was drunk and horny.
Anger and humiliation colored my cheeks at the idea he was flirting and going after my sister while fooling around with me. And didn’t he still have a girlfriend? And let’s not forget, Angie would be screwing him right now if it weren’t for me.
A loud bang hit my door, jolting my attention to it. “Kase, I have to go.”
“Is that Smith? Let me talk to him. Shit, I am so ready for you guys to be here. I need to put my hands on that man again. Maybe we can have sex in a truck for old times’ sake.”
“What?” Ice poured down my throat, filling my stomach with acid.
“Yeah. Right before graduation. We went at it in his truck… It was so wild and intense.” She sighed. “I still fantasize about that night. Best sex of my life.”
Words clogged my esophagus, my chest twisting. I had always wondered, but there was a difference between speculating and knowing. Truth punched my gut, bending me over.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Wait—”
“Bye.” I hung up, grappling for air. I rolled my fingers until my knuckles turned white.
It doesn’t matter who he fucked—past, present, or future. You don’t care. There is nothing between you. Taking a few breaths, I rolled back my shoulders and answered the door.
Now as we strolled down the dark lamplit streets, our violent moods mirrored each other.
“This way.” His hand touched my lower back, but he yanked back like my skin had burned him. Clearing his throat, he nodded at a place down the street, the lane bustling with people and laughter.
Jazz poured from the building out onto the streets, beckoning you to come in. The rich smells of spices and scrumptious food from restaurants and street vendors hung in the air, alluring you closer. New Orleans was made for the sins of the dark. The air tingled at my skin, brushing and blowing sinful ideas into my ear.
“Though the tourists have found this place, it’s still one of the best.” Smith motioned to the sign. The Spotted Cat Music Club, with a silhouette of a cat playing the saxophone hanging over the walkway. The yellow, Creole-style townhouse with green trim and shutters drew in a large crowd on this hot June night.
The live music instantly crawled into my body, spilling into my bloodstream like
a drug, making my body feel alive. Not fighting it, I started to wiggle to the amazing sounds of the bass and sax. The sensual sounds throbbed my body, forcing a hint of a grin on my face as we slipped through the throng of people to the bar.
The man’s voice was soulful, eerie, and sexy, which left an ache in your heart as well as between your legs.
“What do you want?” Smith leaned down so I could hear him over the loud atmosphere; his mouth brushed my ear, desire shivering down my limbs.
“Beer?” I shrugged a shoulder, hating he could cause that reaction from me.
He slept with my sister.
Didn’t matter. It was years ago and only added to the list of reasons why he and I shouldn’t even touch the line, let alone cross it.
“Think you and I need something stronger than that.” His body was tense, a scowl still on his face. “Trust me?”
“Not really.”
He snorted. Ignoring me, he got up to the bar, giving the guy our order. The guy nodded, pulling out different liquors before handing the two drinks to Smith. Slapping down cash, he clutched the drinks, turning to me.
“Here.” He handed me one, taking the one that looked like bourbon.
“What’s this?”
“It’s called a Catnip,” he replied. “Try it.”
He held up his glass to mine. “Fuck the world.”
“Cheers to that.” I tipped back my cocktail, the drink sliding down my throat like milk. Rich, deep with earthy tones, it instantly calmed me.
“What is in this?”
“Catnip.”
“What?” I blinked at him. “Funny.”
“Not kidding.” He chuckled darkly. “It actually relaxes humans. And the absinthe and brandy make you feel even better.”
I peered at it for a moment before shrugging and downing more. Sick of being fearful and safe, I could sense a fire flaming inside me, ready to burn with life. I mean, even my “by the numbers” sister let go and had “wild” sex with Smith in his truck.
Why was I staying in the lines?
The thought of them together sprouted rage and jealousy around my gut, making me down the rest of the drink.
In a moment, Smith had another cocktail in my hand, the music sizzling through me. I felt the girl hiding in the shadows slinking to the front.
This place put two devils on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to let go. You could sense a reckless energy in the air, and by the looks of other couples in here, I wasn’t the only one feeling it. The soulful sound of the band cascaded on the room, putting a spell on us.
This city was magical. It was hard to explain. But New Orleans was a city like no other I had ever been in. I was a logical person, but this place was wrapped in sorcery, invoking the superstition, mystery, and dark sexual energy. It felt like the music was enchanting the crowd and putting a glamour on this area of the world and me while the night was evoking the beasts from the dark, full of wickedness.
“Come on.” Smith reached for my hand after an hour. “Let’s move to the next.”
Warm and buzzing, my fingers skated into his. His warm huge mitt curled around mine as he tugged me out into the night, escaping the packed heat of the bar. Cooler air skimmed up my legs and slithered down my bare back, touching the drips of sweat as we strolled down the street. His hand never let go of mine, and he tugged me nearer as a car drove close to us on the narrow lane.
“Oh, perfect.” He darted to a food truck parked down a lane, the alley strung with lights and more food trucks. “Ever had a po’boy?”
“No. Have no clue what it is.”
His eyebrows wiggled. “They are amazing. Especially when you’ve been drinking. Like a fried orgasm in your mouth.”
I sucked in. This guy should never utter the word orgasm. It was just cruel.
The cook behind the counter handed us two mixed drinks and a sandwich filled with fried crawfish, lettuce, and tomato, sitting on crusty soft French bread. Smith watched as I tried to get the huge baguette into my mouth, the warm breaded crawfish melting on my tongue.
“Oh god, that’s good.” I guzzled down the strong drink to get it all down, my head swimming with more clouds.
He grinned, inhaling half of his in a bite. “Good soaker too.”
But the alcohol was too far in my blood, the devil on my shoulder too loud, no longer whispering but demanding.
And I was its bitch.
I did a good job eating, but Smith devoured the last few bits of mine, brushing himself off.
“You saving that for later?” He chuckled, stepping up to me, his hand automatically reaching for my face, his thumb gliding over the crumbs on my bottom lip.
As if lightning struck down my throat, air cracked in my lungs at his touch, both of us going still.
I expected him to pull away.
He didn’t.
His eyes dipped to my lips, his finger slowly sliding back again, heating my body like a furnace. His throat bobbed as he pushed his thumb harder against my lip.
Do it, my devil taunted in my ear, pulling the strings like a puppet.
My tongue slipped through my teeth, wrapping around his thumb, my lips pulling it into my mouth, sucking.
Sharp and loud, his breath heaved through his body, his jaw gritting together, his lids closing briefly.
Then in a blink he withdrew, taking several steps back, not looking at me.
“Ready for the next bar?”
I nodded, but he wasn’t really waiting for my answer. He strode back out to the street and across to another packed place with jazz spilling from it like a gushing river. He went straight for the bar as I took in the crowded room. This one had a bigger stage, people twisting and shaking their bodies to the erotic sound, flooding the bar like an aphrodisiac.
I took in the way he leaned on the bar, ordering us drinks, his phenomenal ass curved in his jeans, muscles straining against his shirt. Women were all around, moving closer, leaning into him, wanting to be near him. Desiring him. Craving him. Desperate for him.
And I was no different.
Instead of being disgusted by the women wanting his attention, I realized I understood them.
I kicked and screamed at the feelings I’d been developing like a child, acting like the feelings were immature and beneath me, when in reality, I was keeping myself in a playpen—locked up and lifeless like a doll. A kid pretending to be an adult, without doing one thing out of my comfort zone.
Living in the shadow of the twins had become comfortable to me. Safe. It was easier to stay in the background, claiming I was the black sheep, when I wasn’t.
My head was already floating, taking the night off, as I realized logic should have no part of this. The incident just a moment ago stirred me with fervor. As if I were finally waking up, life pulsated against my throat, sliding down my body to my core, desiring another high and pushing myself out of my safety box.
My attention landed on a few girls dancing on boxes set on the stage, fully into the force of the music, letting their bodies swing and swivel to the beats, birds flying free of their cage.
I craved that.
“I mean, my choice can’t be the choice of restaurant, and for yours you make me dance in a strip club or something.”
“Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”
It wasn’t a strip club, but for me it was still forcing myself far out of my boundaries. Without overthinking, I moved across the room to the stage, climbing the steps. The group of girls moved over, pulling me up to join them.
Eyes sizzled into me. Judgment and fear nipped the back of my neck.
Don’t think, just move, I demanded myself, trying to shut off the part that was screeching for me to jump down and hide in the bathroom. I wasn’t a dancer or even someone who liked the attention on me, but for some reason, I needed to do this.
“Come on, girl.” A brunette nudged me, smiling. “Let go. It’s powerful to be up here. It’s not about them. Just you.”
Nodding, I closed my
lids, blocking them out. Letting the music take me, my hips started swinging, my hands sliding down my frame, through my hair, my body dipping and moving to the beat. When I lifted my lashes, the stage lights blinded me of any faces beyond, giving me more freedom and buzz to let go.
The girl was right; something about being up here was powerful. Commanding. Sexy. A performance for an audience who could not touch.
Never in a million years would I have done this before. I was the wallflower at parties and hated clubs and was so scared and fearful of what people would think of me—strangers, friends, myself. I closed myself off because it was safe and comfortable.
By no means would this be a regular thing for me, but for one night, where no one knew who I was, in a city that oozed sex and mystery, I wanted to be free. Be another version of myself. Curving and swirling to the haunting melody, I felt the energy of the room, the seduction, the high of a lot of attention on me.
The song ended and giving a nod to my dancing companions, I jumped down, descending the steps to the floor.
“Dammnnn… you were smoking hot up there.” A blond guy touched my arm, his eyes moving hungrily over me.
“Thanks.” I smiled shyly, moving past him, searching for Smith, curious if he had been watching me.
Halfway through the room, my gaze caught on him, my legs halting.
His expression burned into me from across the room. Ferocious. Raw. Feral.
This man was everything a woman desired. A guy from a book or movie.
And I wanted him.
Damn.
Guilt balled in my stomach, but it didn’t take away the honest truth raining down on me. I wanted him like nothing I’d ever wanted before, and I couldn’t have him.
Our eyes locked on each other, everything blurring around me. I felt bare, exposed, open. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t try to hide. Hunger. Desire. Longing. The feelings weaved in and out of the music, winding around us, pulling us closer.
Something flickered in his eyes, his chest pulling in a deep breath, his feet moving until they hit mine, his massive body looming over mine. He set the drinks on a table next to me, his gaze never leaving mine.
Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel Page 13
