by Misti Murphy
“Really? That must be weird.”
“That the woman I’m in love with has sparked up relationships with both my ex and with the girl who has had a long-term crush on me? No, not at all.” He rolls his gaze to the sky. “Why would that be weird?”
“Well—”
“Don’t. Don’t say it like it isn’t obvious.”
We fall back into a companionable silence. My phone pings a couple times and I ignore it. It could be one of the girls I was supposed to hook up with last week when I was predisposed. Or it could be Ravi from India calling about my taxes and warning me I’ll go to jail if I don’t pay him three million dollars right away. It doesn’t matter how private my number is I still somehow get fraud calls. Either way I pretend I’m Paul McCartney and Let It Be.
“If they can support each other…” he says, like he’s been thinking about it the whole time we’ve been sitting here. “If it helps Ro—”
“Then it’s worth her and Summer getting close enough to talk about you,” I finish off my twin’s sentence.
“Exactly.” He huffs out a breath and yawns into his fist. “It truly was good to see her at the hospital. Despite the circumstances.”
“Do you think Riot has a crush on her?” I ask. “They’re so damn close. They’re always touching. But it was different at the hospital, wasn’t it? Like they’ve gotten closer recently. Do you think she’s over you? Or is it just him?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “They’ve always been affectionate with each other. Maybe he’s always liked her. I couldn’t keep my hands off Summer if I tried, so it could be he likes her. Or he just thinks of her like a little sister. And you’ve seen how Burke treats Summer. The first time I met him he threw her over his shoulder and threatened to spank her like a child.”
“Damn, another moment I wish I’d been there for.” I can imagine it though. Burke stayed here at the house for a few weeks a couple months back. He was all up in his sister’s life, which turns out isn’t such a bad thing. The big guy is protective and a hoot. “Where is Summer anyway?”
“Had a meeting with her boss,” he says.
“Ah, so they’re talking about you then.”
“Or Bernadette has another client she wants Summer to pick up,” he says. “That isn’t a Maddox.”
“You would think two huge dicks would be enough for her,” I joke. “I only got shot ten days ago to make sure she had something exciting to work on. Now, I’m banned from social media.”
Wisely, he chooses to ignore my bad pun. “That’s because you decided it would be a good idea to joke about being messed up with a drug cartel in Mexico, you fucking moron.”
“Okay, fine, you’re right,” I admit. “That joke was in poor taste. When is she getting home so I can sweet talk her into letting me make a statement?”
“She should be home soon,” he says. “But no work conversations will be happening this evening. I’m thinking I’ll take her out. Go to a club or something. She needs to have some fun. Dance. Let her hair down.”
Green eyes slide into my mind. Bright green orbs framed by the darkest of lashes that I’ve ever seen on a blonde before. Wicked temptress eyes that keep my gaze as she lowers herself to her knees. Golden hair that seems to go on forever.
I have to admit, I was worried for a second there when Adira suggested Uma Cookie was all in my head. I’d spent all week dreaming about her, and when I finally find her she gets on her knees and blows me like a superstar?
I am a superstar, but that’s not what I meant. It was earth-shattering, mind-blowing. Her tongue and her eagerness. Da-a-a-amn. The way she played with my balls. I can’t remember coming that hard before. And then she slurped up the mess like she was at a ’50s themed malt-shop and the milkshakes were half-price.
She’d vanished into thin air straight after. Didn’t even give me a chance to get her number or buy her dinner. Poof. It was like she was never there at all.
I might have believed that gobbie was the mark of an incredible imagination on my part. Only, I could have sworn I’d seen her little orange car when Ethan and I were leaving the Mojito Bar. And there was a frosted pink lipstick smudge on my dick when I stripped down to shower. That tiny streak of pink had made me grin from ear to ear. Best blow job of my life.
I’d jerked off to the memory of it.
And again the next day.
And the day after that.
I adjust my nuts. It might just be my favorite moment of all time. But the truth is I wasn’t trying to find Uma Cookie like some prince charming to her princess costume. And that pink lipstick stain wasn’t some modern day glass slipper. It was evidence that the whammy is gone. I’m back in the game.
So if Uma doesn’t want to be found why should I let it bother me? Why should I waste another thought on those freckles across her nose or the pink tip of her tongue and the way it peeked out between her teeth? I love my life and I love the fact that I’m single. One is not the loneliest number. One is fucking fantastic.
“Are you going to get that?” Rebel asks.
“Huh?”
“Your phone?” he glances at the device that is doing the vibration cha-cha between our glasses.
A feminine name lights up the screen. Billie Jean. The cute blonde from the dog groomer.
“Oh, right.” I pick up the whisky first and let the liquid warm a path down my throat.
He raises one brow.
I guess it must be difficult for him to remember when he would have let a girl’s call ring out since it was prior to his stint in prison. Way before Summer came into his life. Now, he’d jump through a ring of flames to take her call, never mind they live together.
I pick up my phone. A second later the call stops and a text pops up. She’s hoping we can still catch up for drinks. We’d made plans when I took Dog—the rescue mutt Rebel had gotten to appease Summer after one of his more dick-ish moments— to the groomer a couple weeks back. I’d hit it off with Billie Jean over flea shampoo and a blow dry. Then I’d been shot and she’d cancelled on me. Which turns out was because of the whammy Uma put on my charm. Apparently that’s not a problem anymore.
“Where did you say you were going tonight?” I ask.
“Empire,” he says. “Or there’s this other place where Summer said the drinks are fantastic. Thinks it’s called The Line or Line Up or something. I don’t remember. Apparently, it’s a chain that originated out of Chicago.”
“You know way too much about a club for someone who’s never been to it.” I smirk.
“Jennie’s cousin works at one of them and Summer gave me a somewhat drunken rundown one night over text.”
“Mind if I tag along? We’re starting on set next week, so it’s going to be long days and very little fun.” I push my tongue into my cheek as I start typing a text. I’ve been laying low at Rebel’s while I recover, other than the night I went to the drag show with Ethan. It didn’t seem wise to be too sociable, under the circumstances.
“The more the merrier.” He shrugs. “Why don’t we get the whole crew together? Ethan, Linc, Bianca.”
“Linc is in Italy,” I say. “They’re shooting some big action sequence.”
“That’s right. I don’t know how I forgot that.”
“What about Ro?” Because she’s still a part of our clique. She’s still an A-list rebel even if we’ve been divided for a while now. It’s time to see if we can start to put the band back together, so to speak. Fingers crossed my twin and Ro can find their way back to the friendship they used to have. And stop making it awkward for the rest of us.
He hums in his throat as he thinks it over. “Invite her.”
“She probably won’t come,” I say as I type out a text to let her know that we’re considering going out and it would be awesome if she joined us. “What about Summer’s friends?”
“Sent Jennie a text already,” he says, sending out an alert to the rest of our posse. “She said she’d contact Posey. I think that’s it.”
“One m
ore,” I say as I type another text, this one to the girl from the dog groomer, asking her if she wants to meet up for drinks tonight.
She responds almost immediately that she’d love to.
I grin. If I needed any more evidence that I’m not nut struck by Uma Cookie, my ability to arrange a date with another woman would be it.
Uma Cookie can go on and hide all she wants. It’s business as usual here. This lovable scoundrel is going to get laid tonight.
I text back. Sure. It’s a date.
Chapter Eight
Ivy
“Love? What on earth are you doing to that glass?” Adira asks.
“Sorry, what?” I shake off the vestiges of my little daydream where I have my hand wrapped around Rogue Maddox’s magnificent erection and am stroking up and down its length. In reality I’m up to my elbows in soapy water in the kitchen of the apartment I share with Adira.
“The glassware.” He reaches over my shoulder to take the suds coated cup out of my hands. “You look like you’re trying to give it a hand job.”
“That’s not what I was doing.” I reach for a pink kitchen towel and dry my hands so I can push my glasses up. It’s probably for the best that he interrupted me. There’s a solid chance I would be trying to deepthroat the tall glass right now if he hadn’t. I am such a sex fiend. Since I gave my first ever blow job I can’t stop thinking about it. The way he felt in my mouth. The way he tasted. How freaking adventurous I was.
And then I find myself imagining…more.
Rogue Maddox scoops me off my feet and drops my ass on the makeup table so he can push my skirt up.
His fingers tuck into the cotton of my panties and tear clean through it.
His mouth covers mine. His tongue pries its way between my lips and steals my breath. One hand grips my ass and yanks me tight against him.
My hands are all over his muscular chest, his corded back and the bumps of his spine. My heart is going a million miles an hour. It beats as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings. His earthy cologne fills my lungs.
“It’s time I reciprocated.” His deep, throaty voice makes me quiver. “I can’t wait to put my mouth on your pretty little pussy.”
“Earth to Ivy.” Adira clicks his fingers in front of my face twice.
My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. “Sorry, what?”
“Where did you go, girlfriend?” Adira leans down to peer into my face as he tightens the sash on his cute floral and navy silk dressing gown. “What’s going on with you lately? Should I be concerned?”
“I-I…” It was like I was right there in my fantasy, about to get sexed for my very first time. I’ve never had a crush like this before. Even though Adira knows I have a long and sordid past of crushing on Rogue Maddox, it was different when the attraction was all one-sided. Now it feels that much more… more everything. Private. Sexy. Unrepeatable. Unforgettable. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing?” His gaze dances with amusement. His cheeks curve. He taps a crimson nail against his Pash Me Good frosted lips. “You were thinking about that walking sex god again, weren’t you? You can’t hide from me, Love.”
I rub a hand over my chest. My cheeks are scalding. “I’ve completely turned into a nympho.”
“You’re going to have to give a lot more blow jobs to earn that title.” Adira laughs as he opens the fridge to retrieve a couple of Jolly Rancher Blue Raspberry sodas.
Handing me one, he twists the lid off the other before tossing the small piece of plastic into the recycling container. He takes a seat at the counter, which is covered in my classwork that I always seem to be playing catch up with. He crosses his legs at the knee and swings one fluffy-heel slippered foot.
Taking a sip of the blue drink, he shifts the papers around. “How is school going?”
“It’s stressful.” In between working on the costumes for the queens, being a birthday party princess, helping Adira out at Hunt Luxuries, I don’t have a lot of time for studying. And since I had to take time off last year I’m retaking a few classes and still playing catch up. “The worst part is I don’t even know if I like what I’m learning.”
“Of course you don’t,” Adira says like it’s obvious. “You’re still trying to appease that hag. The only reason you’re studying business is because it makes you an asset to her. If you were doing what you want, you would be studying makeup or fashion.”
“That hag is your aunt,” I remind him.
“Only by marriage.” His manicured and painted on brows rise derisively.
“And she and I have a deal. You know that.”
“I don’t think your daddy would be happy about it.” He shakes his head. “Big Dick Love was far too blind to other people’s faults, but he loved you. He must be turning in his grave.”
My heart squeezes. The mention of my father is apparently always going to be a tender spot on my heart. Like a bruise on an apple. “Can we not talk about it, please?”
“Fine. For now.”
“Thank you.”
We sip our drinks in silence for a few minutes before Adira says, “Which one would you pick if you had a choice? Makeup or fashion?”
“Makeup, I think.”
He nods. “I can see that.”
I sigh. “I lost the birthday party gig.”
“Oh.” Adira levels me with a look that suggests he doesn’t think that’s a bad thing.
I shrug. “It was only supposed to be temporary anyway.”
“Why don’t you just come and work for me full-time? Until you figure it all out. Drop your classes. You can work on the costumes from my store. You could even let me pay you what you’re worth.” He smiles softly. “Now that’s a nifty idea.”
“You already pay me the going rate,” I say.
“For alterations,” he says. “Which is not what you do. Forget all that, though. I love your company. You give great compliments. Seriously, you know I can afford you at Hunt Luxuries.”
“I know you can.” This is the same argument he had when I told him I was going to pay him rent. And again when I told him I turned down my mother’s offer to buy me a car and bought Jaffa instead. Although that argument had been more about Jaffa’s roadworthiness since we both agree my mother doesn’t do anything without strings attached.
“But I didn’t move in with you when I left the facility so you could take care of me,” I add.
When I’d ended the inpatient program I’d been sure of one thing; I couldn’t live with my mother anymore. Not even with all the space in that big old house. I couldn’t deal with the memories and I couldn’t deal with her constant negativity. I’d needed a fresh start. Away from her and my brother.
Nicole had disagreed. In retaliation, she’d cut me off completely. Threatened to dissolve my trust fund. She seriously thought that’s all it would take to get me to fall in line, and prior to those months I spent at the resort, she would have been right.
Something in me changed during that time, though. I’m not the same girl I was, and I’m grateful for it. I told Nicole what she could do with my trust fund, and I called Adira. It was only supposed to be for a few weeks, but it turns out rent in this city is insane and I have medical bills for ongoing therapy and being my own person is a lot harder than I’d anticipated.
“We take care of each other,” Adira says.
“I know.” At some point it settled in that living with my bestie doesn’t keep me from becoming my own person. “That said, I can’t accept a job on top of everything else you’ve done for me. I need to earn it. I need to believe I got the job on my own merit, not because we’re friends.”
I start gathering my books into a neat pile. I’ve had trouble concentrating because my mind keeps wandering off to a beautiful man and his devastatingly perfect cock. Not that I’ve seen a lot of dick. Or any. Well, that aren’t on the internet or in the dressing room at Mojito. That place tends to be a complete sausage fest. And I’ve seen one or two covered in whipped cream and rainbow
sprinkles right here in the apartment. But I’ve never been as up close and personal as I was with Rogue Maddox’s incredible penis. It’s going to be a long time before I stop replaying that moment over and over…
“I get it.” Adira grabs my hand and squeezes it. If anyone gets what it’s like to have to find your own feet in order to become yourself and not a shell of the thing other people want you to be, it’s Adira. “But accepting help from the people who love you isn’t a bad thing either.”
“I know.” But I can’t. I’ve fought too hard to get my feet underneath me, and it feels like a stiff breeze or a personality that is stronger than mine could knock me off them. The idea of letting anyone get that close squeezes my heart like a vise. “I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but I need to stand on my own two legs. No one thinks I can do it, but—”
“Hold up.” Adira draws a circle in the air between us with his palm. “I know you can make it on your own in the big city, girl. I believe in you. I support your effort to do you the way you want to. Don’t lay your mother and brother issues on me.”
“I’m sorry.” I take a sip of my blue raspberry soda. He’s right. He always has my back. For years he’s been my closest friend. He was the only person I could turn to after everything that happened when my dad passed away. The first person I called when I decided it was time to return to the real world. “That wasn’t fair of me. You know you’re my best friend.”
“And biggest supporter,” he reminds me.
“Definitely.” Just like I try to be his. But I have big shoes to fill, and most of the time I probably fail miserably in comparison to my dad. When Adira first started doing drag he lost a lot of important people in his life. My aunt and uncle couldn’t deal with their promising and popular son choosing a path that wasn’t what they’d always envisaged for him. A lot of the friends he’d grown up with turned their backs on him too. I think my dad tried to make up for all of them. Especially his parents, since Liam’s mom was his sister.
Which is the only reason he knows what my mom is actually like. To the outside world she’s an entrepreneur and an icon. A philanthropist. Beautiful. Engaging. Considerate. But she’s also the woman who has criticized me at every turn for as far back as I can remember.
