CHARLOTTE: Soul Sisters - Book One (The Soul Sisters 1)

by Nicole James

  “Now that’s a pretty sight,” he murmurs, hooking his hands behind my knees and dragging me to the edge. “Come here, baby.”

  I gasp at the sudden movement, and then he’s between my thighs, spreading them wide with his hips. His hands go to my waist, and his palms slide up my curves with a soft caressing touch.

  “Your skin in like silk.”

  I slip my hands on his neck as he cups my breasts and squeezes, then drops his head and takes first one and then the other into his mouth to lave and tug and nip until I’m begging for more. “Please.”

  A hand moves between my legs and his thumb seeks out and toys with my clit. “There it is.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “You like that, baby?”

  “Yes.”

  He strokes in a circle until I put my palms back on the green felt so I can get leverage to lift my hips, meeting his touch, seeking it out when he eases up, wanting more.

  He slips two fingers inside, and I suck a breath in between my clenched teeth, my head falling back. I moan loudly when he finds that spot that sends jolts of pleasure rippling through my quivering body. He keeps at me with his thumb, building the sensations, layering them on top of each other until I’m teetering right on the edge.

  “Baby, please,” I beg.

  He leans forward and clamps down on one nipple, sucking hard, and I go crashing over, feeling my wet rush of desire coat his hand.

  “There she is. So beautiful. I love to watch my baby come so pretty for me.”

  He hits his knees and buries his face between my legs, lapping up every drop and tonguing my clit in little circles until I’m right back up there on that razor’s edge. I’m tender and every brush of his tongue causes a heightened sensation until I’m thrusting up to meet him, clutching his head. I come a second time, collapsing back against the scratchy felt, and before I can catch my breath, he stands and thrusts his hard cock into my pussy, hauls my legs up, hooking my knees in the crook of his elbows, and plows into me again and again until he’s slamming into me so fast I can barely catch my breath.

  “You want it?”

  I meet his hot, desire filled eyes.

  “You want my me to finish inside you, Cherry?”

  I nod, biting my lip, and a moment later he slams into me, pins me tight to him, and roars as he explodes into orgasm.

  He pumps slowly a few more times. Once he’s finished, he collapses on top of me, his slick, hot skin burning against mine.

  I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold him tight, never wanting this moment to end. I feel his mouth at my ear.

  “You’re mine. Say it.”

  “I’m yours.”

  He lifts to stare into my eyes, reaching a palm to sweep the hair from my damp forehead. “Don’t ever forget it, sweetheart.”

  We hear a whimper and both look over. The German Shepard is sitting watching us. Both our bodies shake with laughter.

  “Don’t you listen, dog? I told everybody to get the fuck out.”

  He cocks his head.

  “Where’s his owner?”

  “Boys took him with them, I guess.”

  “They left the dog?”

  Daytona shrugs. “Guess so. Probably couldn’t find him.” He dips and kisses the valley between my breasts, then suckles a nipple.

  “Has anyone fed him?”

  “Lobo’s been looking after him.”

  “He’s just staring at us.”

  Daytona looks over at him. “Go find your own girl. Go.”

  The dog wanders to the door and lays down in front of it with a harrumph of a growl.

  Daytona’s body shakes with his laughter. “Damn dog.”

  “I like him. I just don’t want him watching us do it.”

  “Damn. You are shy, aren’t you?” He tickles my ribs until my tits bounce, and I squeal.

  “Quit!”

  He instantly stops, his eyes dropping to my jiggling breasts. “You got the prettiest tits, baby. You know that?”

  I ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you like them.”

  “You don’t ever show these to anyone but me, understand?”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Some of the women that come around here will flash their tits or pull their shirts off at the drop of a hat. But that’s not you, Cherry. I’m serious. I see ‘em out, I’ll bite those nipples, so you won’t ever forget. You’re all mine.”

  “I’m all yours, baby.”

  He grins when I say it, and I stroke my thumb over his lower lip. He gives the pad a nip with his straight white teeth as a reminder of his warning.

  I chuckle. “Message received.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Daytona—

  “How are things at Badlands?” I swirl the bourbon in my rocks glass and look across the corner of the clubhouse bar to Trick. He tosses back the remainder of his own drink.

  “Fine. Installed more cameras. Got two of the prospects takin’ shifts, monitoring them round the clock. Tin Man’s over there minding the place today.” He looks over at me. “Did you know he used to tend bar?”

  “Nope. That what he’s doin’?”

  Trick grins. “Yeah. He’s relivin’ his youth.

  I chuckle and eye the German Shepard asleep by the door. “How’s Ryan working out?”

  “He’s been a hard nut to crack, but he finally let his guard down once we dried him out.” Trick whistles low. “Been a long time since I’ve seen a man with the shakes that bad.”

  “If he stays off the booze long enough to pull his shit together, we could use him.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. But he’s got a long way to go and a lot to prove first.”

  “Very true, but I’m all about the second chance.”

  “That you are, Prez.”

  “Especially when it comes to ex-military.”

  “We’ll give it our best shot with him.”

  “Just keep him busy.”

  “Will do. He’s out back helping Shine put a new set of pipes on his bike.”

  “Kid got any skills?”

  Trick shrugs. “I think his dad was a bit of a gear head, muscle cars mostly. Picked up some skills from him. As far as bikes, no, but he seems to be catching on.”

  I nod, my mind shifting to other things. “Isn’t today the day Morelli was supposed to pay back his loan.”

  “It is.”

  “You heard from him yet?”

  “Nope.”

  I frown. “Guess it’s time to pay him a visit.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Brother, this is my least favorite part of this fucking business we’re in.”

  “Mine too.”

  I stare at the bar top. “That other plan I’ve been working on, not sure if it’s going to come to fruition in time to get us out of the drugs before we suffer a major bust.”

  “You thinking of reverting back to plan B?”

  “I think we may have to.” I meet his eyes. “Have you done that research I asked you to do?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got two guys that can set up the website and technical side. We hook up a pay per month subscription service for each girl. They upload their content, and we also have live hours at night where they take requests from their subscribers. We also have some opportunities for subscribers to schedule a request for a special act. If she agrees and does it, it’s confirmed and sold to him.”

  “You got enough girls lined up?”

  “There are girls all over the Strip. We open up auditions. Promise big payouts, protection, and a sweet place to live for free. We’ll have the money rollin’ in like that.” He snaps his fingers.

  I nod. “We’ll have to find a place to put them.”

  “I’m thinking something nice. A big house with lots of areas for filming, and each girl gets a nicely decorated suite.”

  “Enough for a stable of girls? We gonna have the funds for that kind of shit?”

  “We will shortly. I figure we’ll start off getting th
em set up in a nice hotel suite. The first group will get a bigger piece of the profits. Incentive to go along until we can give them the rest of what we promise.”

  “That’s a lot of perks.”

  “We’ve got to make sure the deal is sweeter than them going it on their own on one of the apps that already exist.”

  “True.”

  “We get rollin’, become known, we’ll have the draw we can bring them as part of the incentive. More subscribers than they could get on their own.”

  “You think this will work?”

  “I’ve got a couple girls I’m friends with on the Strip. Heidi Ballarini is one. She’s got quite a social media following.”

  “Wasn’t she a headliner at The Red Door?”

  “Yep. Works for herself now. I got her to give me the down low on everything. She makes a ton more on her own on one of those apps.”

  “How much?”

  “Over six figures a month. She gives them what she calls the girlfriend experience. The way she explained it to me was that every day, hundreds of guys pay her to act out their sexual fantasies and boost their self-esteem. Sometimes her clothes come off. Sometimes she dresses up as a sexy nurse, schoolgirl, or dominatrix.

  “The guy may pay her to do what it takes to get him off, or he may buy erotic videos from her. And you’d think these girl’s subscribers would increase if they post more often and make the content more explicit. But she says no. She claims the more often part is true. The more explicit part is not.”

  “That’s surprising. So we need girls who post a lot but don’t get too explicit?”

  “Exactly. She charges increasing fees depending on how creative the requests get. She has three thousand subscribers who pay about thirty bucks a month for access to a feed in which she shows off her fucking killer body, squatting in really tight leggings, erotic lingerie, or a wet tee shirt, squeezing her breasts together. Shit like that. Swear to God, it doesn’t go much further than that. She says it doesn’t need to. And she’s not some big social influencer. Those make ten to twenty million a month.”

  “No shit?”

  “It’s true.”

  “Fuck. But how much you think we could make?”

  “We build it up, advertise all over Vegas, with the amount of men who come through this town and hear about us, we could do quite well. We take thirty percent for the services we provide, the girls keep seventy, plus get a free place to live, protection from creeps, etc.”

  I nod. It’s not the plan I want, but it’s better than drugs. “How many girls we need?”

  “Half a dozen to start.”

  “You’re in charge of setting up the auditions.”

  He grins. “My pleasure, Prez.”

  “Wipe the big grin off your face, asshole, and let’s go take care of Morelli.” I push off the barstool, and Trick follows me out to our bikes. I emit a sharp whistle in the direction of where Lobo is squatted down near the pipes of the bike Shine and Ryan are working on.

  Three heads turn, and I motion my brothers over. Shine and Lobo stand, wipe their hands on rags and amble over.

  “We’re goin’ to make a collection.” It’s all I have to say, and they’re swinging their legs over their bikes parked nearby.

  The four of us pull out, myself and Trick in the lead.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Charlotte—

  It’s sunset, and I’m out on Daytona’s deck, looking over the fabulous view.

  Whenever I’m alone, and Daytona’s off doing club business—which mostly has been trying to track down my stalker—he leaves one of his brothers here to protect me. It makes me feel safe and precious to him, knowing he’s going to all this trouble for me.

  But I’ve been gone from my old life too long, and I know it’s time to go back. Scarlett has texted me several times to make sure that I’ll be back in time for the three concert dates we have booked at the Vegas hotel.

  I stare down at her latest text.

  Scarlett: Char answer me. You’ll be back, right?

  I know I have to tell her I will. I know it’s time. But as soon as I type those words the magic bubble I’ve been living in will burst, and it will be time to give up everything and return to my hectic life. The scariest part will be telling Daytona the truth. I’ve wanted to confess at least a dozen times, and every time I try to work up the courage to say the words, I put it off, telling myself I need just one more day. I’m terrified it will destroy everything between us. How can it not? I’ve lied to him, and not just about something small. This is huge. I’ve lied to him about my very identity.

  I hear a motorcycle approaching in the distance and know it’s Daytona. He’ll be here any minute. I know it's time. I stare down at the screen and respond to Scarlett before he gets here.

  Me: Of course. I’ll return to the hotel tomorrow. I’ll be there in plenty of time for the show. Don’t worry. Love you.

  Then I shove my phone in my back pocket and go to meet Daytona.

  I walk to the front door. Reckless, the brother he left with me, stops with his hand on the door.

  “Give us a minute to talk, Cherry.”

  “Of course.” I stand inside the door, but Daytona doesn’t keep me waiting long. A couple minutes later, he walks in looking tired, and I hear Reckless pull out on his own motorcycle.

  Daytona pauses at the entry table, puts two fingers to his lips, then touches them to the little owl statue his son made. Now that I know why he does it, every time I see him make that gesture, I feel a tug on my heart.

  “How’re you doing, baby? You look tired.” I smile.

  “I am.” He moves to me, cups the back of my neck, and pulls me in for a kiss. It’s long and sweet and tells me he hates spending so much time away from me. I feel a warmth spread through my body, one that tells me I’m wanted and cherished, and I know I should feel safe telling him my secret. When he pulls back, he bumps my nose with his. “Let me grab a shower, then how ‘bout I take you out to dinner? Some place nice.”

  I grin big. “Really?”

  “Sure. We’ll stop by your place, so you can throw on that pretty dress you had on the night I met you. Will you do that for me?”

  My eyes glaze, knowing he remembers what I wore, and that it means something to him if I wear it for him tonight fills my heart. “Of course, baby.”

  He brushes my lips with a short kiss. “I’ll be quick. You want to open a bottle of wine?”

  “Sure.” He starts to pull away, but I stop him. “Wait.”

  He pauses, watching me, and my throat gets tight. He frowns. “What is it?”

  “I… I have something to tell you.”

  He searches my eyes, waiting. “Can’t be good if it’s that hard to say.”

  “You’ve been so good to me.” At my lame beginning, he physically relaxes, his smile returning.

  “You’re easy to be good to.”

  “I don’t deserve all the trouble you’ve gone to for me.”

  “Why don’t you let me decide that?”

  “It’s just, I’m not who you think I am, and I don’t deserve a man like you. God, this is so hard to say.”

  “Babe, what’s wrong? What are you afraid to tell me?”

  I fidget, pulling on my rings and staring at the entry table.

  “Hey.” He takes my hands in his, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. “There’s nothing you could tell me that will make me stop loving you.”

  Oh my, he said the L word. Does he mean it? Is it just a slip of the tongue, a turn of phrase?

  The corner of his mouth pulls up. “Guess I just said that, huh? I meant to do it a little differently.”

  I swallow and search his eyes. “I love you, too. But…”

  His smile falls. “But?

  I fidget some more. “I guess I’m afraid if you knew the real me, you’d push me away.”

  “Why would I do that?” His brows come together. “You still scared about this stalker? Is that what has you on edge?”


  I shake my head, and he cups my face.

  “Cherry, look at me. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  I stare at his chin, the words stuck in my throat.

  “Okay, look, let me grab a shower, then we’ll sit down over a glass of wine and talk this all out. I’ve got some things I want to tell you, too—things I think will make you happy. All right?”

  I nod, feeling my eyes sting. A short reprieve, where I can still hope he’ll understand, where I can find the words to explain it all. “Okay.”

  I watch Daytona move tiredly toward the master and wonder if I should tell him we don’t have to go out, but then he’s gone. I move to the kitchen to open some wine. I get out two goblets and the corkscrew, but glancing around, I realize that over the last few days we’ve drunk all the bottles he brought up earlier. When he showed me around his home the first night I was here, he showed me where the small wine cellar is located, so I know where to find more.

  I hear the shower running as I move to the stairs and head down the steps to the lower level. The last door at the end of a hall leads to a small wine tasting room with a wall of bottles, all of it temperature controlled. Apparently, the former owner was really into wine.

  I bend, leaning to read the labels in the dim lighting, searching for a Chardonnay with Daytona’s words wringing in my ears. Nothing you could say will make me stop loving you. He loves me! As I absorb what just happened, happiness floods through me. Perhaps I should grab a bottle of Champagne to celebrate. I wonder if he has one. I scan the rows, find one, and grab it.

  A sound comes from behind me, and I turn around, but there’s no one there. A chill runs down my spine. The hall is dark, and I swear I flipped on the light switch. I’m sure I did. Maybe the bulb blew out, but my intuition tells me that’s not it. Suddenly my brain is scrambling to remember if Daytona locked the front door when he came in, but I can’t recall seeing him do it.

  I clutch the bottle to my chest and silently move to the door, trying to convince myself I’m being silly and paranoid. But it’s hard to do when I have a stalker to worry about.