by M. S. Parker
Table of Contents
Free Book
Reading Order
Raye
Kane
Jake
Bonus: Resisting Temptation
Also by M. S. Parker
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Big O’s
Sex Coach Book 2
M. S. Parker
Belmonte Publishing, LLC
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 Belmonte Publishing LLC
Published by Belmonte Publishing LLC
Contents
Free Book
Reading Order
1. Raye
2. Kane
3. Raye
4. Kane
5. Raye
6. Kane
7. Raye
8. Raye
9. Kane
10. Raye
11. Jake
12. Raye
13. Kane
14. Raye
15. Raye
16. Kane
17. Raye
18. Kane
19. Raye
20. Kane
21. Raye
22. Kane
23. Raye
24. Kane
25. Raye
26. Kane
27. Raye
28. Raye
29. Kane
30. Raye
31. Kane
32. Raye
33. Kane
34. Raye
35. Kane
36. Raye
37. Kane
38. Raye
39. Kane
40. Raye
Bonus: Resisting Temptation
Also by M. S. Parker
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Free Book
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Reading Order
Thank you so much for reading Big O’s, the second book in the Sex Coach series. All books in the series can be read stand-alone, but if you’d like to read the complete series, I recommend reading them in this order:
1. Sex Coach
2. Big O’s
3. Pleasure Island (releasing late spring 2018)
1
Raye
When I asked my boss about getting more overtime, I hadn’t quite planned on staying so late that I’d end up getting caught in the midst of the New Year’s Eve revelers. That was what I got for offering to let everyone else with a life enjoy the festivities.
Which was fine. All I had to do was restock, straighten, and handle the end of the night paperwork. It was monotonous work, especially since I was on my own, but sometimes, I preferred it that way. Especially here in the store. It wasn’t that I minded my co-workers or even the manager. I liked them all, but people and me…well, I’d never quite figured out how to make myself click with them, and sometimes, the downtime away from others cleared my head.
I’d had plenty of it over the past two hours, cleaning up the shop and restocking for the New Year’s Day sale that would start in…oh, maybe eight hours. And that was late for a New Year’s Sale, some people thought.
The hours didn’t suck as bad as they did on Black Friday, but they weren’t banker’s hours either.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to come in until noon.
I swung by the bathroom on my way out, and after using the facilities, I automatically checked my reflection. A petite woman with bright red hair and blue eyes stared back at me, the shadows smudged under those eyes a mark of too many nights spent working or studying or both. I was cramming as many classes in as I could at NYU while juggling both school and my job.
To say that I was exhausted would be putting it mildly.
After one last pass through the shop to check the lights, I headed for the employee entrance that let out at the small alley in the back, pulling on my winter coat along the way. I hated that alley. Even though there was a security camera and other people often getting off or going into work, it was still too isolated for my liking.
Turning up the collar on my coat, I checked the doors and the alarm system before turning to head down the alley toward W. 35th and the crush of people jamming Times Square just beyond.
It was my first New Year’s in New York City, but I wasn’t going to join the revelry.
I was heading home.
Fighting my way through the bodies packed elbow to elbow took some time, but since it wasn’t quite midnight, I was making some headway.
Somebody wolf-whistled, practically right in my ear, and I ignored them. Another block or two and things would loosen up. Not much, but at least I’d be able to walk freely. Most of the people were fighting to get to Times Square. I was almost positive I was the only one fighting to get out of it. It might have been easier if I’d just stayed another hour or two, but I’d prefer not to walk the streets completely alone if I didn’t have to.
Of course, I’d have to wait until five or six in the morning for alone to even be a possibility tonight.
Finally breaking free of the crush, I shoved my hair back from my face before jamming my hands back into my coat pockets and began to walk.
Somebody wolf-whistled at me again.
I ignored it.
When it came a second time, it was a little harder to ignore, mostly because it sounded closer, but this was New Year’s Eve and everybody and their brother was plastered three sheets to the wind. Drunks, as obnoxious as they were, were normally harmless. The best thing to do was just ignore them.
That was what I told myself right up until my arm was caught in what felt like a giant vice. I found myself jerked to a stop and a big, leering man peered down at me. “Well, look at you, sweetheart. Where you going in such a hurry?”
Even though my heart had begun to hammer, I gave him a pointed look, then lowered my gaze to the hand gripping my arm. “Away. If you don’t mind?”
“Maybe me and my buddy could join you. Seems we ain’t got anybody to kiss at midnight,” he said and broke out into loud peals of laughter as if he’d told the funniest damn joke he’d ever heard.
My belly roiled, but I kept the nerves I felt from leaking out and showing on my face as I suggested, “Maybe try kissing each other.”
Jerking my arm away, I pivoted on my heel and began to walk even faster.
“Hey!” he hollered out behind me.
I deliberately stepped into a clutch of people and twisted, thankful that most of them were quite a bit taller than me. Being short had been the bane of my existence for most of my life, but sometimes, it did come in handy.
I put my legs to good use and swung east, heading in a different direction than I’d intended. It would still take me home, although it would add a few minutes more to the commute. The main thing, I was going a different route than those assholes and that was what counted.
When I heard the footsteps and a shouted, “Hey, honey! Hold up!” panic started to chitter inside me.
I didn’t hold up. I walked even faster, just this side of a run.
Nerves were quickly fading into panic, but I held it at bay. They were drunk, and they’d get bored once I proved to be more trouble than they were worth. Maybe I should swing back to Times Square, find one of the cops–
Yeah, right, a jeering voice inside me said. Fat lot of good that would do you. Just get home!
I wasn’t eve
n halfway there, and I knew the subway would be packed this time of night. I could always try to flag down a taxi, but that would mean stopping my headlong rush to get away from these guys and…
Shit.
A hard hand clamped around my upper arm, and once more, I was swung around to face the guy who’d hassled me earlier. His breath smelled of stale beer and fried food, an altogether unappealing combination that made my stomach spin and flip even more than it already was.
“Where you running off to?” he demanded. “We was talking to you!”
Were! The word leaped into my addled brain, but somehow, I didn’t think correcting his grammar was the ideal route to take here.
I jerked against his hold, but his grip was punishingly tight. “Let me go,” I said, trying to make my voice stern.
“No…I wanna talk to you.”
The look in his eyes had nothing to do with talking though.
His friend leered at me as I looked around, trying to figure out what to do. The panic that had been whispering inside was now a full-throated yell, and I thought about calling for help. I was afraid it would be useless. The air was full of people’s shouts, music from nearby parties, and for some insane reason, although there were people all around, hardly anybody seemed to really be there.
“Let me go,” I said more insistently, jerking my arm.
Instead, he hauled me in closer and dipped his head. “You’re a pretty little thing. I bet you taste as sweet as a strawberry.”
I turned my head as he got closer, his fingers close to bruising the bone.
But his mouth never touched mine.
Quick as a wish, he was yanked away, and I gulped in a breath of air as I stumbled a few steps back, smacking into the rough brick of the nearby building. A big, towering figure stood between me and my would-be attacker. “You’re going to back the fuck off, or I’m going to break your arm off and feed it to you an inch at a time,” he said, his voice flat, the deadliest neutral I’d ever encountered.
“Hey, why don’t you back the fuck off?” the man said, puffing out his chest. “We saw her first.”
I never even saw what he did, he moved so fast. There was a blur of movement, then Beer and Nacho Breath was bent over at the waist, his face red. My rescuer turned to look at the other guy, a man he towered over by almost a foot. He took a step in that man’s direction. “You want to try a round?” he asked in a menacing tone.
The man shook his head wildly and took off running. A minute later, his friend staggered off after him, huffing and puffing, wheezing as he tried to suck in air.
The guy turned to look at me. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.
“I’m…” Licking my lips, I nodded at him. “I’m fine, thank you.” I glanced in the direction the men had gone and added, “And thanks for that.”
He took a hesitant step toward me, gesturing to where I was rubbing my arm through my thick coat. It ached a little, but it wasn’t anything bad. I’d probably have a bruise from where that asshole had been pawing at me. It could have been so much worse.
“You’re rubbing your arm. Sure, you’re okay?”
Looking down, I stared at where my hand was cupped over my upper arm, feeling a little dazed. Blood roared in my ears. Reaction, I thought dully. It was the reaction settling in, that was all.
Swallowing, I tipped my head back to look up at him.
He’d gotten closer.
When had he gotten closer?
Dark, shaggy hair hung in his eyes. I couldn’t make out the color in the dim light, but I wished I could.
His gaze dipped to my mouth as I licked my lips again and my heart started to hammer in my ears.
Abruptly, the chaos and noise from the street I’d left behind grew deafening, and I jumped.
“Easy. It’s just…” His eyes dipped to my mouth again. He shrugged. “It’s New Year’s. Happy New Year.”
He looked at my mouth again.
Without thinking, I looked at his.
And then his mouth was on mine.
I sucked in a sharp, startled breath.
The brush of his mouth against mine was light, almost gentle. He didn’t try to force his way past my open lips, and I caught just the faintest hint of his taste, something I couldn’t define.
But desperately wanted to.
Which meant I shouldn’t.
2
Kane
Her mouth was every bit as soft as I thought it would be.
That was my first thought. My second thought…Kane, what the hell are you doing, man?
I was kissing a total stranger on New Year’s Eve, that’s what.
And it was a normal, sweet, innocent kiss…then it was over. So over, and not likely to be repeated because even as I contemplated doing it again, she jerked back and glared at me.
“What the hell?” she demanded. Without waiting another second, she hauled her hand back and let it fly, slapping me across the face.
There wasn’t a lot of power in the blow, and I wondered if she’d ever hit anyone before, which was a stupid thing to be wondering since I’d clearly pissed her off. What I should have been wondering was how to make an apology.
She was gone, though, ghosting through the crowd on feet so fast I’d be hard pressed to catch her. I was long-legged and big, but she was fast and moving at an all-out run.
A few people turned to look at me, which led me to realize they’d seen the whole damn thing.
Great.
Just great.
What in the hell had I been thinking?
Easy answer.
I hadn’t been thinking. At all.
Shaking my head, I turned on my heel and headed back through the crowd. I’d just dropped off the keys for a car I’d finished for one of my regulars. He was the manager at a hotel on W. 35th Street and had promised a nice tip – and delivered – if I’d bring the keys to him tonight. Since I was still struggling to pay off what I owed on the garage, so it would be mine free and clear, I never ignored a request when it came with the words nice tip.
The tip had indeed been nice, and I’d already hit an ATM, depositing the cash so I didn’t have to worry about getting mugged. It wasn’t really a big concern in my mind. Most muggers went looking for somebody who came off as being far less trouble than I’d be, and while I wasn’t the tallest guy I’d ever come across at six-two, I was one of the roughest bastards in the area. Heavy with muscle, tattoos roped my arms and marked my hands. A scar bisected my left eyebrow courtesy of a fight where my opponent had gone for a knife – it could have taken the eye if he been just a little faster than me.
Fortunately, I’d been the faster one, and he’d ended up with that buried in his thigh. He was lucky I hadn’t gone for that big artery there. But I hadn’t wanted him dead.
My looks probably had something to do with how people tended to fall away when they saw me in a crowd, and made it a little bit easier to cut through the masses as I headed for the subway. I deliberately chose one a little farther away from Times Square because I didn’t want to wait for the crowds to ease up.
The plan worked well enough, and it was only a little after one when I got to the party some friends in Brooklyn were throwing.
Briefly, I wondered if the cute redhead I kissed had made it home okay.
I hoped so.
Briefly, I wondered if maybe I should have caught up with her and made sure she had made it home.
But that really wouldn’t have gone over well after I went and smacked the kiss on her. I didn’t understand the slap though. I’d felt something the second I looked at her. I could have sworn she felt the same tug I did, but maybe I just needed to get laid.
Music blasted through the windows as I approached the house. Nobody would think about telling them to turn it down, and nobody would think about calling the cops.
It didn’t mean the cops wouldn’t come by here and tell these guys to quieten down, but as soon as the uniforms left, the music would go right back up.
I knew the drill. I’d been to parties like this.
The house belonged to Russell Carpenter. He went by Rusty, although whether the nickname was because of his red hair or because he hated his first name, I didn’t know, nor did I care to ask.
I’d known Rusty since before I’d gone to prison.
We’d both run in separate gangs then, but we’d never caused each other problems, and we didn’t now. He and some of the guys in his were some of my steadiest customers, although they came in late, paid in cash and never wanted anybody but me working on their cars or bikes.
As I entered the house, ears already vibrating from the music, I peeled out of the jacket I’d worn and hung it up on the coat rack, trying to bury it under a layer of other coats so it might still be there when I left.
If not…well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’d lost one at a party like this.
“Oh…you’re here…” A soft, feminine voice purred up at me, and I looked down to see Calie Smalls giving me a seductive smile.
She was taller than a lot of women and must have been wearing a pair of stiletto heels because now her mouth was just an inch lower than mine. When she would have leaned in to kiss me, I eased back.
Calie and I had an on again and off again thing going on between us. Lately, it had been in the on switch quite a bit, which might explain why she kept sidling closer, but I hadn’t come to see her.
