Using his tree trunks for legs as leverage, I rise to my toes and grab a fistful of his coarse hair, forcing him to look down on me. His face has drawn slack, eyes blank and expressionless. From the very first time I laid eyes on him, I’ve been able to appreciate the beauty of the hard edges to his face, the fierce fire behind his gaze. Seeing him at his most vulnerable makes him more attractive than I can put into words.
Keeping him sexually satiated will help keep my cover. That’s all this is. No matter how much I enjoy myself. No matter how badly I want him.
He thinks he has me under his thumb. And from what I can already tell, he’s the type to always want more of whatever’s unattainable.
I kiss him long and hard, wiping his flavor across his languid tongue. When he begins to perk back to his senses, groping my body like he’s ready for more and answering the kiss with anticipation, I pull away.
“Now we’re even,” I snap.
Then, in the hopes that it’s not too late to successfully do the job I was hired for, I walk away.
7
Trent
No woman has ever flat out rejected me the way Taya had, even though I know I had it coming after I finger-banged her the first time and left her hanging. By now I’ve moved past lusting for the hot little blonde who came into my life with the force of a cyclone. Don’t know what else to call it, except maybe obsessed.
Consumed.
Yeah, that’s the word. Everything about her fiery spirit has consumed me in every way possible. I’ve absorbed every inch of her body and bold spirit. Can’t stop thinking about her, or the way she fell to her knees and sucked me off, even after nightfall when we’re parked behind Bentley’s fortress. Letting her mess with my head was a piss-poor idea. Should’ve known the minute she walked in for the audition that she’d be trouble. Still don’t know what kind of trouble, though. Whatever it is about her’s a mystery—one that I plan to solve.
“Four unmarked trucks pulled into the gates tonight,” Vaughn reports. “Normally his logo’s plastered all over the sides of his transports, regardless of what’s inside. We gotta get into one, find out what they’re moving.”
“Already know what we’ll find in there,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Should call the damn cops.”
“And tell them what?” Declan asks, turning in the passenger’s seat to face me. “That we suspect the city’s most generous contributor is peddling drugs? At this point they don’t have any reason to knock on his door and ask to take a look. They need a warrant for that kind of thing.”
Vaughn snorts at my side. “While we have them on the phone, we could flat out confess that we’re the ones taking dealers off the streets. Then they’d definitely go out of their way to pin that murder on us too.”
A few days ago, I would’ve suggested we follow the truck and get the driver to pull over so we can take a look. But now, when I imagine the driver packing heat, possibly even setting us up and telling the cops they’re our drugs, Taya’s beautiful eyes flash through my mind.
“Fucking hell.” I wipe my face for a solid minute, trying to get my wits about me. Maybe it’s a good thing that she took off. Still not too late to kick her out of the band, even though it’d be the biggest dick move of all-time, and the guys wouldn’t have it.
“Could always follow them, see where they’re going,” Declan suggests.
Vaughn rubs his hands together. “I like that idea.”
Once the decision has been made, I allow my thoughts to drift back to Taya. Don’t know where she lives, what she does for a living, or what she has for friends and family. Never even asked if she had a man, though I don’t see her as the type to live a double life. Could see her opening up when she gave her body to me, wanting me to accept her for who she is.
All she’s given me at this point is her body and a phone number. I pull my phone from my pocket and start scrolling. Don’t have much for contacts aside from a few I work with and the guys in the band, so it doesn’t take long to find her. Haven’t let many people into my life since Cali died. Don’t know why I’m letting Taya in, except that it feels right somehow. Being with her is as natural as holding a guitar. Can’t stand the idea of her disappearing.
my place
midnight
need to talk
After sending the message, I stare at the screen, willing her to reply. It remains dark.
“They’re on the move,” Declan reports, shifting his Jeep into drive. “Here we go.”
The entire forty-five minute drive to the north side of St. Paul, I keep checking my phone for Taya’s response.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” Vaughn tells me. “Not something I’ve seen since Cali died. You look…lost.” When I throw a hard look in his direction, he shakes his head over and over. “Ah man, don’t tell me you’ve already screwed things up with Taya. After how hot and heavy you two were before we jammed? You had one job, brother. One. Job.”
“Don’t get your panties in a fucking twist,” I bark back. “Everything’s fine.”
Declan casts a sharp look over his shoulder. “Better be. Can’t afford to lose someone that talented with tomorrow’s show.”
“How about you assholes worry about your own dicks, and quit riding mine?”
“Because we’re starting to like her more than your sorry ass,” Vaughn answers, crossing his arms. “Being that you were selfish and kept her for yourself, the only choice we have is take her in as a little sister.”
The glow of my phone illuminates my face. I swipe a thumb across the screen to find Taya’s reply.
If it turns into anything other than TALKING I’m out
Warmth spreads through my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut. Damn that woman’s stubborn as hell. At least she’s agreeing to stop over. She hasn’t completely cut me out yet.
“They’re pulling over,” Declan announces.
I look up to see we’re in an industrial area where they assemble luxury cars and sailboats. The paved roads are empty, but the massive concrete buildings are all lit up for the night, running 24/7. Jonathan Bentley owns an interest in half the state, so it’s not much of a surprise to discover they’d stop here. But I’m especially interested in knowing where the drugs are made, and why the trucks are going to Bentley’s house.
Declan catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “What should I do?”
“Keep moving. Can’t afford to get made.”
We pull past the unmarked truck as the driver’s getting out and walking up to a well-guarded gate outside of V-RON INDUSTRIES. Seeing those letters on the side of the building sends a pulsating rage rippling through my core, searing my blood and kicking my pulse into overtime. If Bentley himself was standing in front of me, I’d wring the life from his neck before he knew what was happening.
“I’ll find a way inside if it’s the last thing I do,” I vow under my breath, picturing my little sister’s sweet, carefree smile as I utter the words.
* * *
Taya knocks on the front door at exactly 12:01. Smartass.
Arms folded under her tits, lips drawn tight, she breezes past me with the trail of vanilla filling the air. I drink in her freshly washed hair, itty bitty shorts, gray top with cut-out sleeves that expose the marks I made on her skin. My balls draw so tight against my body that I’m forced to choke down a primal growl.
“What do you want to talk about?” Her words are clipped and fueled with anger, yet there’s no hiding the flicker of interest in those big brown eyes when she turns to face me.
“Want a drink?” I ask, motioning to the kitchen.
“Not really. I think we both know how that would end.”
I wet my lips. How the hell else am I supposed to loosen her up? “The other two are in their rooms. Living room’s open.”
She roughly shoves me aside, moving into the next room. My eyes gravitate to her tight ass shifting in her tiny shorts when she walks. How did an angel like her land in this shithole?
&nb
sp; “Stop staring at my ass,” she snaps over her shoulder. “I’m here to talk.”
I trail behind as she drops down onto the leather couch. Remembering how many women I’ve fucked in the same spot, I cringe.
Whatever I did to set Taya off, she’s especially feisty, glaring so hard it’s like she’s trying to make me burst into flames. And fuck, it’s hot. Claiming the chair across from her, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, hoping to shield my raging hard-on from her death stare.
“Don’t know what to do with you, woman,” I admit tipping my head back to the ceiling. “One minute you’re cold as ice, the next you’re…you. What’d I do? Never asked you to suck my dick. That was all on you.”
Snorting, she looks away. “You were right. The two of us never should’ve gotten involved. Let’s agree we had a good time, and move on. If you can handle it, I’d like to stay in the band.”
Disappointment clogs my throat. I have to clear it several times before I can make my voice work. “Wouldn’t want you to leave.”
Something other than anger sneaks into her expression when her lips tick with a stubborn smile. “Good.”
Can’t stop looking at the marks on her neck, wanting her all over again. The blowjob was out of this damn world, but not as much fun as watching her shatter as she came on my fingers. Watching her come undone when I slammed into her.
“Where the fuck you live?” I ask.
“Excuse me?” she responds, her voice tight. “First of all, that was just rude. And secondly, what does that have to do with any of this? You planning to go all stalker-mode?”
“Shit…I just meant…I know nothing about you.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “Never been good at small talk.”
“So I gathered. Manners apparently aren’t your thing either.” Eyeing me sideways, she drapes her arms along the back of the sofa before smirking. “I have an apartment on Cherry Street. Nothing special, but it’s rent controlled and mostly safe.”
Grinding my teeth together, I try to picture just how safe that neighborhood is without sounding like an overbearing prick. “Job? Family?”
Something that looks a lot like pain flashes through her expression before she shifts her legs and brings her hands down to rest in her lap. “You’re right, you really suck at small talk. This is starting to feel like an interrogation. What about you?”
“Crane operator for odd construction jobs.” I let the question about family go, worried it’ll make me too open and susceptible. Sliding forward, I cock my head and study her. “Gonna make me guess how you earn a living?”
Head tilted, her dark eyelashes flutter in challenge. “Take your best shot.”
Exotic dancer.
Massage therapist.
Librarian.
Every profession to slip through my mind ends with a dirty thought. What could a sexy, fearless woman like her do that doesn’t make me want to break something, knowing other men are free to oogle her? Everything I picture grabs me by the balls, increases the need to get her naked again. She could be a toll operator and it’d still be hot.
“No boyfriend?” I blurt.
Her brows furrow. “What does that have to do with my profession?”
“Nothing. I just…need to know.”
“If I had a boyfriend, the things I’ve been doing with you would make me a whore.” Her eyes harden as her mouth draws into a tight line. “You think I’m a whore?”
“Fuck no.”
“Then why would you ask?”
“Trying to understand why some lucky bastard hasn’t snagged you up yet.”
“Because relationships are bullshit, that’s why.” She rests her elbows on her knees, mirroring my body language. “Why are you single? Too many groupies to choose from?” A tinge of jealousy seeps into her voice, making the questions sound bitter.
“Same reason as you. And I don’t have time for that.”
“Because of the band? What else keeps you so busy?”
I rub at my scar, ready to get past this awkward shit and crawl into bed. With her in my arms. “You still haven’t answered my questions. Most people in this neighborhood come from big families. Do I gotta worry about protective big brothers knocking on my door with baseball bats?”
This time I’m able to see agony flash through her gaze, plain as day. “I don’t have any family left. Not blood, anyway.”
“No parents?”
Her long neck dips with a slow, deliberate swallow. “They both died when I was little—my mom in a drunk driving accident, my dad because he couldn’t live with himself for killing her.”
Oh, shit. Just when I thought I could get the reward for most fucked-up childhood. The desire to comfort her in my arms snakes up my spine until it’s a pulsating necessity. I balance on the edge of the chair, ready to go to her. “Is that why you said you’re broken?”
“Stop looking at me like that. I don’t need your fucking sympathy.”
Seeing her angry is the best kind of foreplay imaginable. I pause to lick my lips. “What do you need?”
“A distraction. That’s why I prefer being behind a drum set.” Her sultry lips part to release a heavy breath. “To lose myself.”
“Your old man the one who taught you?” I assume, recalling what she said outside the brewery.
She sits tall, eyes steely. “Why do you care?”
“Trying to figure you out.”
“You never told me about your family.”
“Old man thought I was a thug, spoke with his fists, Mom stood by and watched.” I clench my fists, still wishing I knew where the prick ran off to so we could go another round now that I’m bigger. “Tend not to visit on holidays.”
“Brothers? Sisters?”
“No brothers. Little sister died awhile back.” Hadn’t planned on mentioning Cali, but the words came out on their own. The sad look Taya throws me is a reminder why I should’a kept it to myself. “Don’t need your sympathy either.”
“Wasn’t offering any.” She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth for a moment before releasing it with a quiet sigh. I want to pull that plump little chunk of flesh into my mouth and sink my teeth into it. Her eyes flicker down to my fists. “What happened to her?”
“She was a kid from the South Side. What do you think happened?”
She dips her chin in understanding before wiping at one of her eyes. “I had an older brother. He raised me himself, kept me out of the system. He was my world—busted his ass to keep us going all those years. I was fourteen when he was murdered. That’s why I’m broken. When he died, my world was flipped upside down.”
A whoosh of fury sweeps through my gut. I picture her as a doe-eyed teenager, suddenly made into an orphan. Rubbing at the irritation spreading through my scar, I frown. “They catch who did it?”
“No one gave a shit.” Her damp eyes lift to mine. “He was a kid from the South Side.”
A lump rises to my throat. We grew up in the same rough neighborhood, each of us losing a sibling. It might be the unspoken reason I felt drawn to her from the start. Our loved ones were ripped away, and we were never given any closure.
She may not want my sympathy, but I can’t fuckin’ help it. “I’m sorry…the man responsible for my sister’s death is still free too.” I hold her stare with the stark realization that I’m showing her a glimpse of my most vulnerable side. “I know what it’s like to want revenge.”
“Is that why you’re so angry at the world?”
A hollow grunt falls from my lips. “Not angry at the world.”
Her dark lashes flutter with a wide-eyed look. “Just me?”
Holding her stare, my Adam’s apple bobs with a firm swallow. “Anything that makes me feel something.”
Her plump lips part with a sharp intake of breath. “I do that?”
Hell yes.
Need.
Desire.
Understanding.
The words draw my throat tight as she rises to her feet, starting for me.
8
Sasha
I can’t resist him any longer. Watching a big, scary man open up about his dead little sister reeled me in, reminding me all too well of what I’ve lost. I didn’t mean to share the details of Trask’s death. Back in our day, kids on the South Side were murdered all the time. It’d still be easy enough for him to narrow it down to my brother. At least I threw him off with the bogus story about my parents.
But I no longer care about keeping up appearances, even though I should. Something about Trent Risotto calls to the darkest depths of my soul, peeling back the layers of toughness I’ve built since entering the academy. I don’t feel like a detective when I’m with him. I’m engulfed by our tragic childhoods. I’m exposed.
Wanted.
The moment my tongue meets his, we’re back to wild, uninhibited touches. His kisses are rough against my already tender skin, and they’re as intense as the man himself, knocking me off my game and into a world of blinding desire. In a matter of seconds, I’ve unbuttoned his jeans and have my hand wrapped around his throbbing cock, eager to drown out both our woes with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. His determined fingers nudge past the edge of my shorts and sink into me, so hard and fast that I cry out.
“You’re not broken when you’re with me,” he growls before dragging his teeth over my bottom lip. His fingers penetrate me again, wrenching a whimper from my lips. “You’re strong…fucking beautiful.”
“Take me to your room,” I pant into his ear. I gyrate my hips against his swollen cock, ripping a dark sound from his throat. “I wanna make you feel something more.”
The room spins when he jumps to his feet, wrapping my legs around his wide hips. On the way to his room we kiss, lips and tongues searching and comforting, attempting to make up for all we’ve lost.
The light from outside his room is just enough that I’m able to watch him strip down to nothing alongside me. One tug on his shirt, another to remove his boxers and jeans before he kicks them to the ground, and I’m given a glorious view unparalleled to anything. This morning I was given a small preview of his fine physique, but it wasn’t nearly enough time to soak in all the cut lines of his broad chest, the pebbling of his dark nipples, the ripples of his 8-pack abdomen, or the divine ‘v’ leading down to his enormous cock swelled and lined with dark veins. A man who takes good care of his body never fails to get my motor running.
Undercover Rockstar: A Bad Girls novel Page 7
