All Blues

by Marie Wathen

  Pulling my attention back to the large group meandering around me, I put forward a fake smile and make conversation. A few hot babes offer me their phone numbers, but I turn them all down with a polite and well-rehearsed, ‘can’t, I’m with Lourdes now.’ Saying it out loud makes my head hurt. Or maybe it’s because the crowd around me is getting thicker with silly women blabbering about how my solo made them hot. I laugh and follow it up with a charismatic wink, known for driving women into a heated frenzy.

  Mine, I hear a sexy voice asserting softly.

  Twisting my head around, I scan the heavily painted faces gathering around me, but none of them own up to being the one staking their claim. Inhaling a deep drag from my smoke, I blow it straight up into the already smoke-filled air and then drain my whiskey glass.

  Mine. There it is again.

  Chuckling, I focus beyond the drunken groupies, looking for the ballsy lady who thinks that she can claim me so easily with just one possessive word.

  Sunk back in one of the dark booths near the front of the club, a pair of the most alluring eyes that I have ever seen is pinned on me, like the red dot from a laser. Tagged by her enthralling glare, I feel my cock twitch against my zipper. Since I’m not a fan of underwear, the metal bites into the head of my dick and I flinch. At the same time, some dickhead jams his elbow right into the middle of my spine, effectively breaking my gaze away from the sexy woman who is beckoning me over with just her damn entrancing eyes. Zeke steps forward, but I give him a glare, which relays that everything is fine. The guy is a slobbering, drunk mess, and no threat to me. By the time the stupid son of a bitch finishes his long, drawn out apology, and I turn back around, I can’t see her anymore. Immediately, the band starts playing again, and people flood the dance floor, completely obscuring my view. I must meet this woman. Before Lourdes gets here, I think that I’ll just make a quick trip over to her table to introduce myself. Even though I’m technically unavailable and won’t chance screwing anything up, it won’t hurt to get her phone number–for later on when I am a free man again.

  A few handshakes later, I say goodbye to the group and make my way toward the booth–toward her. Edging past the dance floor, I see Lourdes sitting down in a chair pulled up to one of the booths–the same booth that my beautiful siren is sitting in. She is wrapped up in Rad’s arms, one of the pushers in Jude’s crew. He kisses her, and everything in front of me flashes red. Instantly, I hate him. Instead of viciously ripping off the little bastard’s head, I decide on making his date jealous. From the lustful stare she was burning me with from across the room, I believe that she will probably hate seeing me kissing another just as much as I am sickened by seeing her getting kissed by him. Bending down, I press a kiss against Lourdes’ cheek, claiming her publicly in front of her small group of friends. I use that term very loosely, because no one likes her. She is a gorgeous blonde with hypnotic dark blue eyes, but her heart is so vile that it diminishes her beauty. Closing my eyes, I picture seductive grey eyes and my mouth moves to Lourdes’ fat, synthetic lips. Before I realize what the hell is happening, I’m shoving my tongue down her throat and gripping her ass, so that she is pressing against my swollen cock, all while craving someone else entirely.

  “E, don’t kiss me like that in public, I already told you PDA is not my thing,” Lourdes claims, pushing away from me and grabbing up a mirror to check her makeup.

  Fucking bitch has lost her damn mind if she thinks she will get anything like the kiss we just shared in public again, let alone in private. The only time that I will show her any affection will be in front of witnesses–Nelson specifically. She glances at my crotch briefly and continues blabbering on about it, but I tune her out. One minute she claims that she would do anything to have me, and the next she doesn’t want anyone seeing us kiss. I don’t understand women.

  After greeting a few people at the table, I cut my eyes over to Jude, finding a gloating smirk plastered on his face and a devilish glint in his dark eyes. He slides out of the booth and walks over to another one of the guys from his crew who is standing beside me.

  “Hey, Murph,” Jude calls, running his hand through his dark brown hair. Shane “Murph” Murphy is Jude’s number one guy on the inside–a big baldheaded bastard who would scare the life out of Lucifer with his freaky hazel and violet colored eyes, capping off his total bad ass persona. “Do you think Blues kissed Lourdes like that because neither of them could feel it due to the puffiness of their lips?” With a half smirk, Murph laughs. “I’ve never seen a guy with lips so red and swollen before. It’s kind of hot. Guess that makes me bi-curious, huh?”

  “Nah, like,” the Irishman disagrees with a heavy accent while crossing his large arms over his swollen chest, stretching his black tee-shirt to maximum resilience. “With both of them having chick lips, you’re still safe on the straight side, Wise.” Murph belts out a hearty laugh, slapping hands with Jude who is also laughing at their cleaver digs. “Aye, it was an odd stall, like.”

  Turning toward me, Jude winks and tells Murph, “That was literally the kiss of death.”

  Concealing my reply from the dark bitch, I mouth, “Blow me.” Both idiots throw their heads back, roaring with laughter.

  “Let’s go back to E’s,” I hear Lourdes suggesting. She wraps long fingers around my arm, squeezing it like that’s her way of checking with me. I nod and she beams pleased that I’ve fallen in line with her hostile takeover methods. Really, I don’t give a damn if they come over, but I sure as hell don’t want Rad bringing his woman with him. Speaking of the beautiful babe, I glance around where she was sitting, but only find an empty chair.

  Natalie, Jude’s wife, bounces up next to her husband and then jabs me in the chest with a sharp fingernail. Her blonde hair is piled wildly into a bun on top of her head–she always wrangles it up when she’s drinking and dancing. Giggling, like she is extremely intoxicated, she prattles out my name, and then another so fast and too high-pitched, that I don’t really understand her. Then I lock eyes with who she is introducing.

  The Siren.

  Clear, steel grey eyes freeze on mine, solidifying me by the second with some unforeseeable force. Seeking answers to why my heart stutters and my pulse rages to the hard beat of a bass drum, or why I glimpse flashes of my future while looking at her, I delve into dark places hidden long ago behind these seductive eyes. Eyes that warn, no one is allowed inside. I look from one to the other as if my very existence depends on knowing all the lyrical chaos that lies within. I shouldn’t keep staring at her like this, but there is something about her, something so intriguing.

  Perfect pink lips curl up at the corners, and I force down my desire to suck on them to introduce myself properly. The pulse in her delicate neck jumps erratically as if she feels the infinite truth that is compelling, predesigned and valid for all time. Her long dark hair, cascades over her left shoulder, and a thin white button-down shirt is pulled tightly across a pair of the fullest, most seductive breasts that I have ever laid eyes on. Glancing up, I catch her staring at my lips, so I lick them, and she literally holds her breath.

  “Blues,” I restate, holding out a hand toward her. Before accepting, she stares at the gesture like it is some sort of lethal weapon, forged with one intention–to destroy her.

  Nervously, she licks her lips, steps in close and says, “Angel.” Hers was the voice I that heard calling me earlier. Perfect.

  The air crackles around us, provocative and thrilling. Simultaneously, something inside like a kick-start or a raging storm awakens my darkened soul. When she touches her fingertips against my palm, I feel the sensation travel straight down to my soul. Linked literally by hands and figuratively by her dangerous allure, we move in chorus, as if we’re drawn together by some imaginary Rolling Hitch. My body becomes fully awake, and quickly, I am aware that we are now only inches apart. Captivated, an obvious current of desire ebbs between us, like nothing and no one else is significant. I feel like I’ve been injected with a killer whale-
size dose of I-need-to-fuck-her drug.

  “E,” Lourdes growls deeply in her throat, pulling me out of our hypnotic introduction with a sharp tug on my arm. “Let’s go home, baby.”

  Dammit! I don’t want to pull away from the beauty, aptly named for a goddess dropped from the heavens, but I don’t have a choice. I’m with Lourdes, I remind myself. I get the feeling that if I don’t purge Angel from my system immediately, she could destroy all the plans I have to take down Nelson and avenge my family.

  Chapter Three

  “We’re home,” Lourdes purrs sinfully, stepping out of my Bentley, and then rounding the front to meet me on the driver’s side. Without witnesses to see her forwardness she presses her overinflated tits into my chest and then strokes one hand across the waistband of my jeans, gradually snaking lower. There’s no response inside my pants to her eagerness, and I don’t even want to coax the beast out for her razor sharp nails. Twisting her hand over my hip, she moves to cup me, but stops when she reaches my pocket.

  “What is this?” she asks, slipping her hand inside and retrieving the gift that I was planning on surprising her with later. Tugging on the red ribbon, she steps away from me and fishes out the key.

  I answer tensely, “Yours.”

  “Are you giving me a key to your house, E?” she beams and I nod, clenching my jaw. Excitedly, she presses her mouth to mine and thrusts her tongue inside, rolling it around wildly. It’s all too frantic and rushed for my taste, but I don’t care to teach her what I like. I’m completely unconcerned with what pleases her, too. She breaks away, and I look down at her, noticing a dark shadow move through her expression. I’ve never actually seen anyone’s eyes take on a look of possessiveness before, but if I were a betting man, I damn sure would wager that Lourdes believes that she owns me now.

  As we enter my house, Lourdes tells me, “I’ll meet you in the den after I freshen up in our room.” She stretches up on her toes, placing one hand against my jaw and turning my face so that she can kiss me on the lips. I pucker, but can’t get into this kiss either, and I ignore the hell out of her attempt at taking possession of my space.

  Watching her turn right, swinging her scrawny ass as she clacks away on killer heels, I grimace as she takes the hallway that leads to the master bedroom. I thrust open the door to my left, stepping into my decoy office (The real one is upstairs and well hidden).

  Before leaving Holidays, I gave my two large shadows, Zeke and Bales the night off, but they insisted on joining in the merriment of the extended party. They enter through the front door, followed by the rest of Decks’ crew.

  “Jude,” I call, indicating with a jerk of my head that I want him to follow when I spot him and his wife behind North and a random groupie coming down the hallway. Acknowledging me with a head nod, Jude escorts Natalie into the den and then returns, shutting and locking the office door before taking a seat on the leather sofa.

  “What’s up?” He smirks.

  I cock an eyebrow. “I hate this shit.”

  “You said that earlier,” he reminds me.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t think you understand how sickening it is to actually kiss her. My lips were numb, but I could still feel how nasty and fake hers are. It took everything I had in me to keep my dinner down. Fucking her is surely going to blow my cover.”

  “You mean after you blow chunks?” He barks an obnoxious laugh, stretching his arm across the back of the sofa. Waving a hand dismissively, he says, “I’ll come up with something to save your dick from that horrible fate. Trust me.”

  Skeptical, I grunt while dropping my ass into the chair beside him, positioned in front of the window facing my driveway. Spotting Murph and Decks pulling up in their expensive rides, I search behind them for Rad’s loud-ass GTO, praying that he doesn’t come. That’s laughable. Being around him a few times, I know that he is a huge ass-kiss. Everyone who is in Decks’ crew kisses my ass and wants to get closer, like I’ll be their fucking best friend. Having his woman with him, Rad will hope to impress her by means of our relationship. I have no doubts that he will lay it on thick since this is the first time that he has been to my place. As much as I don’t want him benefiting from my mansion resting above Buckhead, a part of me hopes that Angel likes my house.

  “Why are you so damn quiet?” Jude asks pulling me out of my musing. “Did you really only call me in here to bitch about kissing a beautiful woman?”

  “No, of course not.” I cut a pissed look at him, pull a random topic out of my ass and go with it. “Have you heard anything about how Ryske is entering the country?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do we have any ideas on who is manufacturing it?”

  “None.”

  Running a hand through my hair, because I am growing more pissed off with his lack of information than I should, especially considering that neither this new topic, nor my issue with Rad and Angel, are his problems, I blow out a heavy breath. “Is your department coming up with a fucking plan to stop the spread of this shit?” Little information is known about this deadly mind-manipulating drug, making its way into the states. HLS needs to step up their game and shut it down before it is responsible for our planet turning vapid.

  “I’m sure they are.” Smirking at me like he thinks he knows something, he asks, “Anything else, boss?”

  I hesitate. “What do you know about Rad?”

  He cocks an eyebrow up. “Everything that I know, I gave to you months ago. You have his file.” I nod and glance away again.

  Chewing on the inside of my cheek anxiously, I ask, “And, the woman with him?”

  He chuckles and corrects, “You mean that gorgeous woman with him?” I nod, focusing my gaze out the window when I hear the rumble of a classic hotrod creeping up the driveway. “I haven’t had a reason to do a background check on her. Angel comes to the house off Riverdale with him occasionally. She’s cool. Lourdes hates her. She showed up the first night that Angel came by to meet us and it was brutal, man.”

  “What happened?” I ask, growing pissed by the second just thinking about Lourdes trying to intimidate Angel while she pretends to play a mob wife.

  “Chick issues.” He shrugs. “Your girlfriend was trying to rile her up with some bullshit about sending Rad down to the campus and telling him to ‘give it’ to any chicks wanting it. I’ll hand it to Angel, she stood her ground, but you know Lourdes. She despises being challenged.”

  Blood pumps in my ears like a crazed person banging on a bass drum and I growl, “What did Rad do?”

  “What he needed to do,” he answers, studying me while rising from his chair. He made her submit to his power. That pisses me off. “Want me to run a check on her?”

  “Yes, tonight,” I order, also standing and walking over to the door, anger pulsing through my veins. That bastard better not ever let me know that he has laid a hand on her again. “Get me everything you can on her.”

  “All right…” he draws out his reply, and I glare back over my shoulder at him. “Is this request for the case or personal inquiry?” I ignore him and unlock the door. “Because if it’s personal, you need to know that they’ve been together for a while and from my perspective, it seems locked up tight.”

  My jaw ticks hard for some unexplainable reason. Unable to reply, I can only nod as we enter the large den, where everyone has gotten comfortable. I pour up a glass of bourbon and slide it to Jude.

  “Make the call,” I order, watching Rad and Angel cross over the threshold and walk directly toward me. Jude turns away, drawing his cell phone up to his ear and leaving the room.

  “Damn,” Rad whistles low, as he strolls up in front of me. Bradley “Rad” Jones could be described as good looking, I guess. He’s tall, but not as tall as me and has medium brown hair. His physique appears athletic, so I guess that I can see why a beauty like Angel is dating him, but something about Rad rubs me the wrong way. “Blues this is the life, dude.” He scans the room with light green eyes, and I take the opportunity to
look at his date. I am sure to draw suspicions if I stare, so I only chance a brief glance at her.

  I feel an odd pull in my chest. Not from his ass kissing. The thought of Angel being impressed with Rad’s connection to me makes me jealous as hell of the little prick. She looks so damn good standing in the middle of my house. Thank God Natalie saves my ass when she pulls her over toward the window, drawing her away from me. I’ll have to buy her something special for that save. My breathing starts up again as she moves, but I can’t help watching the siren walk away. Son of a bitch she is fucking gorgeous. An hourglass shape, long flowing hair and her perfect ass swaying to a seductive tempo in that tight skirt, all make my cock swell thick in my pants. She flips her lush hair over her shoulder, and beautiful, grey eyes shift around, catching me gawking.

  “You lived here long?” Rad asks me, pulling my attention away from his woman’s ass.

  We make small talk, all while I keep my eyes zoned in on the opposite side of the room, away from Angel. A little later, Jude interrupts, telling me that someone needs to speak with me on his phone. I excuse myself, and Jude follows me back to my office.

  “Here,” he shoves his phone at me. “This you’ll need to hear for yourself.”

  “Why? What did you find out about Angel?”

  “Well,” he hesitates, “For starters, her name isn’t Angel.”

  My suspicious nature explodes with this information. “Who the fuck is she? And why didn’t you dig around before she walked her ass up into my goddamn house?”

  “First of all, I had no idea that Decks’ was inviting them to the party,” he growls back and then smiles. “And secondly, listen to what Jeb has to tell you before you bitch at me.” He shoves his phone at me again.

  “What?” I snap at the city contact who we use for all inquires. He begins to prattle off every detail of her life, and then finally tells me her real name and career. My eyes lock on Jude, grinning like a total ass. “Thanks, Jeb.” I hang up and drop my ass onto the corner of the desk. “Fucking hell.”