by Piper Rayne
“No, but I need you to put your shoes away. I don’t want to trip and break an ankle.”
She narrows her eyes at me.
“Come with me.” I grab her heels from the floor. “You’re orderly, right? Everything has its place?”
“I’m working on my issues, okay?” she says in her singsong ‘leave my shit alone’ tone, but she knows I’m razzing her. “Leo, are you giving me a drawer?” She laughs.
“Half the closet, too.”
“You’re so sweet.”
“Half the fridge, half the bathroom. I’m all about equality, so fifty percent of everything in here is yours.”
She looks around the condo, noticing the missing furniture I removed to make room for her favorite items. “What are you asking me, Leo?”
I blow out a long breath. “Will you move in with me?”
She stays still, staring at me for a long moment, unblinking. My heart thumps in my chest and it’s all I can hear in the silence.
“Yes.” She nods. “Yes. I’ll move in with you.”
“Really? Holy shit.” I pick her up and swing her over my shoulder.
“You sound surprised?”
“Not at all.” I smack her ass as I walk down the hall to the bedroom. “I knew you couldn’t say no to me.” I drop her on my bed and climb on top of her, straddling her. I undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse and separate the fabric. “Now let me get you familiar with your side of the bed.”
She giggles, grabs the hem of my t-shirt. “I thought I knew it pretty well already.”
“You know it as a visitor, let’s see how it feels with you living here.” My lips meet hers and we spend the entire night making love and christening every one of the rooms in our condo.
“Where the hell are you putting all this shit?” Jagger heaves for a breath, staring down at Teegan’s still half-full apartment.
“Storage.”
“I’m breaking my back for storage?” He sits down on her sofa, propping his foot up on the coffee table.
“You’re breaking your back for a friend. Stop being a pussy. We both know you work out twice a day. This should be a breeze.”
“I swim in a pool, I don’t fucking do the stair climber.”
Teegan walks in the room, her hair thrown up in a messy bun, her shorts showing off her long, lean legs. Flashes of my face buried between her thighs last night stir my dick to life. She nuzzles herself into my outstretched arms. “How’s it going?” she whispers, staring up at me with her chin resting on my chest.
“As expected. Jagger’s being a whiner.”
He flips me off and I laugh.
The door opens behind us. “Thanks, assholes. I had to wait for someone to let me in,” Vance says.
“Sorry, my mind is still stuck on last night.” Jagger leans his head back. “Visions of blondes, brunettes, and redheads keep swirling through my mind.” His head lifts. “I had a platinum last night. Man, I’m in the land of plenty since most of you assholes have crossed over into monogamy.” The corners of his lips turn up.
We all know it’s his idea of razzing us, but truth is, Jagger doesn’t like being the odd man out. I’m not sure he’ll ever find his forever woman, but part of me wonders from his chatter at the airport if he found her before we ever met him. It would be just like Jagger to let her go.
Vance claps his hands. “I got shit to do, let’s go.”
Jagger’s head falls back again. “I just need five minutes.”
“I got pizza and beer!” Sophie runs in, a case in one hand, holding a pizza up in the air with the other like she’s our waitress.
“I’m starving.” Jagger leans forward, apparently completely recovered now.
“Yeah, yeah, we know—from all that pussy last night.” Sophie rolls her eyes, tired of the jokes just like the rest of us.
“You only wish you could have me.” Jagger twists open the bottle of beer, pouring half of it down his throat.
Sophie guffaws. “No… I don’t.”
The rooms roars with laughter.
Teegan tugs on the hem of my shirt. “Can I talk to you a second?”
“Sure.”
She nods to the second bedroom and I follow her in. She shuts the door behind us.
“What’s up?” I cringe at the room full of more furniture. “Other than the fact that Jagger might have a coronary.”
She giggles and sits on the bed. “I don’t know what to do. It’s been two months and I’ve received a few text messages from my mom. There’s no sign of her coming back, but there never is.”
The closet doors are open with a few items hung on the hangers and I can tell they aren’t Teegan’s. I imagine the dressers are also filled with her mom’s stuff. “Let’s take it all with us. We can set it up in the spare room.”
Teegan’s eyes widen and she runs to me, her arms tight around me.
“Whoa,” I murmur. “Did you think I was an asshole? I knew when I asked you to move in that—”
“I just… she’s a lot.”
“It’s okay.”
“I have no idea how long she’ll stay.”
“We’ll figure it out—together.” I nudge her away so she can see how serious I am. “Tee, with you comes your mom. We don’t even know if she’ll return, but if she does and she feels comfortable staying with us, she’s welcome to. It’s not my condo anymore, it’s ours.”
Her gaze stays glued to mine, her nose crinkling a second later. And the tears come, a few slow trickles down her cheeks. She swipes them away quickly, but we both know the drill. I’m to ignore her newfound emotions since she started therapy and she’ll keep showing them.
“Now, let’s pack this up and get it in the truck.”
Her smile never leaves her lips and she busies herself in the closet, taking the clothes off the hangers.
I’m about to sneak out to grab a slice of pizza, since I’ve already worked off the kale smoothie and egg sandwich this morning, when Teegan says, “Hey, Leo.” I stop at the door, turning back toward her. “If it’s my condo too, we can use a pink flowery comforter, right?” The smirk on her face says she’s not serious.
I walk toward her and pull her in my arms again. “I figured I’d lose control at some point. Good thing I believe in gender equality.”
She swats at my stomach. “Will you ever let that go?”
I scoop her up bride-style. “Not until we’re one hundred and ten holding hands in a nursing home taking our final breaths.”
Her hand runs down the side of my cheek. “Sounds like a good plan to me.”
BEFORE YOU GO…
Want to see who the woman is Jagger can’t live without?
CHORE PLAY coming 12.2017
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Flip the page for an excerpt of Hooked on the Boxer, featuring Tahlia and Lucas story from our Modern Love Series.
Excerpt from Hooked by the Boxer
The line is moving, and it’s like Main Street in a small town with how many people are approaching others and asking them how they’re doing. I’m so enamored by the friendliness of this group, a group I’d usually have no contact with, that I don’t notice when a guy approaches me.
“Hey, want in?” he asks.
I glance behind me. He’s a smaller guy, with dark slicked-back hair and an unkempt beard.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, pushing the strands of my blonde hair behind my ear.
“The fight. The final one starts in about…” He glances at his Rolex watch. The guy must do well unless it’s a fake, but from the quick look I got, it’s not. I should know the difference, Chase owned two. “A half hour.” I notice a wad of cash in his pocket.
“I’m sorry. This is my first time here. I don’t know the fighters.”
His eyes zoom over my right shoulder and then back my way, a smile now teasing at his lips. “Want to meet one?�
� he asks, and instinctively I look to my right and left, waiting to see some guy with red or blue boxer shorts on, but there’s no one.
“You going to give me a backstage pass or something?” I ask.
He laughs, revealing a mouth full of capped teeth. “No, babe, I’m not. Listen, these are the rules. It’s Brock Hayes and Lucas Cummings tonight. This fight’s been expected for some time, and you have a fifty-fifty shot with either one.”
Is this guy serious? He expects me just to bet on two guys when I have no idea who they are?
The line moves forward, but every step I take, this guy matches.
“What’s your name?” I ask the little gnat who doesn’t seem to want to leave me alone.
“Shawn,” he answers.
“Okay, Shawn. Here’s twenty.” I pull the bill from my wallet, discreetly covering my other cash.
“Who you betting on?” he asks, grabbing a raffle ticket and poising his pen, waiting for my reply.
“Um…” In my head I’m doing eenie, meenie, miney, mo.
“I’d go for Brock,” a guy who’s suddenly appeared next to me chimes in.
He has the most gorgeous green eyes. Seriously, like two emeralds lit up with a spotlight. My gaze moves down to his chiseled, scruffy jaw and pouty lips. My stomach flutters, my heartbeat stammers, and heat builds between my thighs.
Who is this man?
“Why?” I ask, swallowing down the saliva pooling in my mouth.
“Lucas is a newbie, and he’s the underdog.” He widens his stance, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s wearing black track pants and a t-shirt that’s faded as though it’s seen the inside of a washing machine a million times.
“But Shawn says it’s a pretty even fight,” I argue and the guy looks at Shawn and then back to me.
“He’s trying to take your money. Believe me, bet on Brock.” He nods and a girl comes over, handing him a water bottle.
“Thanks.” She tiptoes up and kisses his cheek. “Tonight?” she asks and I understand her presumption.
Excuse me while I swallow back the bile rising up my throat. Of course, the gorgeous guy is a man whore.
“Thanks for the water,” he says and ignores her question. She scurries away and his eyes focus back on me.
Wanting to get these drinks and get back to my table, I dig into my wallet and grab a hundred-dollar bill. “Fine. One hundred on Lucas.” I hand my money to Shawn, and he scribbles something on my ticket, handing it over to me.
“If Lucas should win”—he laughs like it’s impossible—“come see me over there after it’s over for your payout.” He points to a long table just past the makeshift bar we’re standing in front of, and I nod.
“Sure thing.”
The line moves forward, as does Shawn to the people behind me, but the hot guy is still right next to me.
“You like the underdogs?” he asks, taking a sip of his water. I fixate on the way he’s licking his lips. Damn, I bet he’s one of those awesome kissers. Not that I’ve ever had a kiss that made my knees weak, but I bet this guy can do it.
“I do.” The line disperses and I step up to the bar, ordering a pitcher of beer for the table and a glass of Moscato for myself.
“Sorry. Beer, water, and wine coolers only,” the bartender says. I stare blankly at him.
“Vodka?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Did I say vodka?” he snarls.
“Well, no.”
“Come on,” the guy behind me whines, and the hot guy shoots him a look that has him taking a step back.
“Give her my stuff, Ted,” Muscles says.
The bartender nods and moves into a cooler, grabbing a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. He pours it into a Solo cup and slides it my way.
“I don’t suppose you have a lime?” I ask and the gruff silver-haired bartender stares at me with no expression on his face. He screws the top on the vodka and places it back in the cooler.
Hot guy tugs my elbow and we slide to the opposite edge of the bar.
“This isn’t exactly your type of place, huh?” he asks, taking another sip of his water.
“Why do you say that?” I ask, a little offended.
A cocky grin reveals a mouth of perfectly white teeth. “Because you look like you’re about one second from crying your eyes out.”
“No.” I inhale a breath. Who is this guy?
I’m here.
I’m dressed.
I’m drinking.
I just bet on a fight.
I’m enjoying myself just fine.
“Maybe I’ve never been here before, but I’m not upset, nor do I want to cry.” I grab the pitcher of beer and my straight vodka.
He cups my elbow to stop me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you. I just wondered why you’re here?”
My shoulders fall. “My friends.” I point to the table where Whit’s tongue is halfway down Cole’s throat and two girls are flirting away with the brothers. Lennon is nowhere to be found.
“You’re friends with the Mendles?”
I shrug.
“The Mendle brothers. They’re the ones who own the gym and host the boxing nights.”
“Really?” I ask, looking back over to see their jeans-and-t-shirt-clad bodies. They own a boxing ring? “They’re friends with the guy who’s being resuscitated by my friend’s tongue.”
He laughs, and our eyes lock for a beat longer than they should. “Do you give CPR like your friend over there?” He steps closer, and I don’t draw back. Maybe this guy isn’t as bad as I thought.
“Not on the first meeting, no.”
“First date?” he asks, the mint from his gum igniting my awareness.
“I’m not looking for a date right now,” I say.
“You’re not? How about a new friend?” He picks up my vodka glass and brings it to his lips. He peers at me over the rim of the glass.
“I have a lot of friends.”
“No one can ever have enough friends. Plus, I come with great benefits.” He tips the cup, and I lose sight of his eyes briefly until he swallows and places the cup down on the bar. I glance to the side to see he’s at least left me some of my drink.
“What kind of benefits?” I ask, leaning into him more and wanting him to tell me everything he’d do to me.
“Intrigued?” he asks.
As embarrassed, as I am to admit it, I nod. That arrogant smirk widens. Maybe a rebound screw is what I need, and if I’m going to, I want this guy. This guy can give me what I need—a crazy sex fest where I can’t walk for days.
He glances behind us into the crowd and back my way, grabbing his bottle of water from the edge.
“How about you meet me after the fight, and I’ll show you the benefits I’ll bring to our budding friendship?”
The heat that was building ignites into a wildfire between my legs. I nod, unable to verbally convey my agreement.
“There’s a spot on the north side of the tent. Meet me there about a half hour after.”
I nod, and he leans in close, his breath tickling my skin.
“I’ll need your verbal commitment before I bestow you with my benefits.”
Then he backs away, winks one of his emerald eyes and turns on his heel.
Holy shit, did I just agree to a one-night stand?
What happens after the fight??
Read Hooked on the Boxer.
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Cockamamie Unicorn Ramblings
Doggie Style…funny name, right?
It was Piper. Piper came up with all the names for this series. We don’t have a ton to share about how this story came about. We had The Manny and Chore Play titles, but we needed another double entendre. Piper thought of Doggie Style, but then we needed a story to go along with the concept.
One fun fact is we got so excited once we came up this story that it was going to be the first in the series. We were going to switch around our usual process where Rayne writes the first draft and Piper edits. Piper wa
s going to write it while Rayne was writing Single Dads Series, but best laid plans and all that. Then we got to Sexy Beast in the Single Dads Series and we figured out, we’d bring Charlie’s brother, Vance down to L.A. to start the Dirty Truth Series. He couldn’t be the dog clothier, just didn’t fit him. In the end, The Manny got to be number one in the Dirty Truth Series.
Did you all love Cooper?
Cooper is portrayed off of Rayne’s parent’s dog. Last year after her dad retired, they decided to get a dog after swearing pets off since they had to put down their previous dog. Rayne loving shelter dogs, took them to the shelter she got her own dog from. Her dad was still on the fence about getting a dog, but her mom really wanted one, thinking it would keep them busy on the shift to retirement. Little did she know what she was in for. Two dogs came before Cooper into the small room. Jack, one so crazy and wild Rayne’s kids were hidden in the corner of the room. Rayne’s dad thought that was the one. He would train him which if you know Rayne’s dad, wasn’t going to happen. Rayne’s mom silently shook her head.
Dog two, Candi, was so timid and scared, hiding under chairs. She needed the patience and security of older handlers, but not ones that had plans of bringing their dog to their daughter’s that houses another dog and kids. So, unfortunately, Candi was out, too. Rest assured she has been adopted. Rayne and her mom kept following her on the shelter page. Oh, Jack, the wild stallion got adopted too.
Out came Cooper. Rayne was standing in the foyer of the shelter with her kids, and the employee walked Cooper out, Rayne was oh boy, he looks intimidating. Strong, short in stature body. That of a bulldog but double the size. We went into the room and he just jumped into people’s laps. Constantly wanting to get petted. Rayne thinks her mom was not so sure about this weight and pull, but Rayne’s dad wanted him and this way the wild stallion who Rayne’s dad thought he could train, wouldn’t be coming home with her.
Cooper is just how he is in Doggie Style. He’s lovable, lazy but still rambunctious (chasing bird in the ocean type, except they’re squirrels). If you check us out on Instagram, there’s a picture of Cooper and maybe one with Cooper and Rayne’s dog (who is about a quarter of the size).
