Total D*ck (Bad Bitch #3)

by Christina Saunders

  She rose, pulling her hands from mine, and dug around in her bag on the counter. Her house was clean, with a small kitchen that had been updated with granite and stainless. She pulled out the laptop and sat back down.

  I flipped it open and clicked on the chat window as she dabbed at my cut again. The sting was nothing short of a bitch, but I ignored it and typed in the black box.

  Gorepheus, we got trouble. ~K

  I hit enter and the green letters morphed into unrecognizable symbols mixed with numbers and then disappeared.

  Scarlett pressed some gauze to my forehead and taped it in place. “That’s the best I can do. There’s a good reason I went to law school instead of med school.”

  “I’m sure it’ll do just fine.” I resisted the urge to touch it.

  She leaned over to see the screen. “Did he answer?”

  “Not yet. Go get your things.” I scooted my chair back so I could watch down the hall. “Stay where I can see you. I’ll wait for him to reply.”

  She stood and headed toward her bedroom.

  “Thanks, by the way.” I pointed at my eyebrow. “For this.”

  “Anytime.” She gave me a small smile.

  A line of text appeared in the black box, the symbols and numbers telling me nothing until they changed into actual words after a few seconds.

  What happened? ~ G

  A man followed Scarlett home. He had a gun. I stopped him, but he got away. I’m going to take her somewhere safe. Are you okay? ~ K

  Don’t worry about me. I can stay hidden. Get to safety, and don’t contact anyone that you don’t trust implicitly. No police. I’ve gotten a few responses to my feelers, but I still haven’t heard the final word on who ordered the breach. The things I’ve heard so far are not comforting, to say the least. When I get confirmation, we’ll know who’s out to get us. ~G

  Good. I want those fuckers on a pike. ~K

  That’s a Gorepheus specialty. We’ll get them. Stay safe. ~G

  You, too. ~K

  Chapter Eleven

  Scarlett

  I sat in the car and waited as Kennedy knocked on the door of a shotgun-style house in the Tremé district. The door opened a crack, letting a sliver of light out into the night, before the door opened all the way and Kennedy slipped inside.

  I glanced around, making sure no one was lurking. The street was quiet, and Kennedy assured me we hadn’t been tailed, but I wasn’t taking any more chances. At first, when I saw the tussle in my yard, I’d been confused. Once Kennedy explained it, I’d become scared. But by the time we stopped in Tremé for this little errand, I was livid.

  After only a few moments, Kennedy returned to the car.

  “What was that about?”

  “Just arranging some extra security at the house.”

  “How?”

  He pulled into the street and headed north toward Lake Pontchartrain. “That house belongs to a longtime client of mine, Lou. I helped him with a slip and fall a long time ago when I was just starting out.”

  “Slip and fall, huh? Color me shocked.”

  He glanced at me and nodded. “Your sarcasm is duly noted. Anyway, after that, Lou started sending me more and more work—his relatives, friends, people who worked for him. They helped me get established.”

  “So, he’s like the godfather of Tremé?”

  He smiled. “That’s one way to put it. He’s on the up-an-up . . . Mostly. And he owes me more than a few favors.”

  We drove alongside the City Park, skirting its edge.

  “Do you think anyone else is in danger? My mother or maybe Graham or Guy?” I didn’t want to think any of them were in harm’s way, even though I still wasn’t sure why I’d been targeted.

  “I think they’re fine. That guy was after you. I didn’t have a tail and neither did Carey. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  I took a deep, steadying breath. “Do you think he was going to kill me?”

  He reached over and took my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. My mind told me to take my hand away, but I couldn’t. I needed reassurance, comfort, anything other than the gnawing sensation that I’d dodged a bullet.

  “I don’t know. He certainly had the right equipment, but maybe there was more to it. He could have been there to send a message or . . .”

  “Or kidnap me? Or, or worse?” I tightened my grip, anger overcoming my fear.

  “But don’t worry about that now. He’s gone. If he comes back, it’ll be the last move he makes. Lou’s men are already on their way.” He turned down a street on the banks of the Pontchartrain and then down a short drive. We pulled up to a house as the sky began to lighten with the approaching dawn.

  “This is me.”

  His home was small, a one-story bungalow painted a light cream, with a widow’s walk along the top to see over the floodwall to the lake. A lone palm tree decorated the front yard, and the grass was trimmed and neat.

  “Sorry it’s not quite what you’re used to, but my other place in the District isn’t so easily protected.” He got out and pulled my carry-on suitcase from his trunk as I grabbed my laptop bag.

  A cool breeze floated past, making the fronds of the palm tree dance.

  “You have a place in the Garden District?”

  We walked to a side door that opened to his kitchen. The space was clean and neat, the dark granite counters and white cabinets a nice, modern touch.

  “Among others.”

  “So you own lots of properties?” I followed him through the kitchen and into the living room. A fluffy leather couch and a matching chair took up most of the room, and a flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall.

  “I have a few. Plaintiff’s work pays sometimes.”

  He flipped the hall light on and led me through, showing me the bathroom, two bedrooms, and the master suite.

  “You can sleep in here and I’ll take one of the guest rooms.” He picked up my suitcase and plopped it on the navy blue duvet.

  “That’s okay. It’s your house. I don’t want to impose too much.” I glanced to the en suite bathroom that had a claw-foot soaking tub. A bath would have felt more than nice.

  He followed my gaze. “It’s fine. Maria cleans every Thursday and I haven’t been here in a week or so, so everything should be tidy for you. But”—he stepped toward me—“if you want me to stay in here with you, of course I ca—”

  “The master suite is fine. Thank you. I’ll take it.” I walked past him and opened my suitcase, turning my back to him so he wouldn’t see my smile.

  “I’m just saying if you still feel, you know, vulnerable and stuff, then I—”

  The doorbell rang, and he swore under his breath before retreating down the hall. I put some of my things in the bathroom as voices and laughter erupted from the living room.

  I sneaked down the hall to investigate. Peeking around the corner, I saw three men talking to Kennedy.

  One looked up and noticed me. “And who’s this?”

  I stepped into the living room and walked around the couch to where the men were congregating in the entryway. “Scarlett Carmichael. You are?”

  The one who’d seen me offered his hand, and we shook. “Clinton Redman, and these here are my cousins Clarence and Shorty.”

  All three were tall, though Shorty was the tallest, with dark hair and eyes. None of them could have been older than thirty. Clarence smiled warmly and shook my hand. Shorty gave a shy glance to the floor instead of meeting my eyes and clasped my hand gently.

  “Nice to meet all of you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Our pleasure.” Clinton patted the pistol at his side. “I heard you had some trouble?”

  “A man. He came to my house.” A chill ran down my spine, the fear trying to take root again.

  “My man K over here told us. Sorry to hear about all that. You okay?”

  “I’m fine. Thanks. Kennedy saved the day.” The moment I said the words, I wished I could take them back, because I could swear Kennedy’s chest
puffed out farther and his smile broadened into a self-satisfied grin. He edged toward me, his elbow touching mine. Like we were together.

  “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here.”

  “We like to help people that help us. K’s done a lot for my family, so if I can do something for him, I’m all for it.”

  Kennedy handed the gun he’d taken to Clinton. “The guy left this behind.”

  Clinton turned the weapon over in his hands and inspected the silencer. “This looks professional. Someone paid this guy a lot of money to come and visit you. Mind if I keep this?”

  “Sure. I’ve got a .45 in my safe.”

  “Best if you go ahead and get it out. I don’t know what you’re into, but it’s looking pretty heavy.” He turned to his cousins. “Shorty, I want you with them at all times. Clarence, you’ll be with me.” He took my hand again. “You won’t see me or Clarence, but we’ll be around. Trust me. Anyone tries to make a move on you, we’ll take him out. You’re safe.”

  I nodded, the warmth in his tone and eyes reassuring me. “Thank you.”

  He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Watch out for Kennedy, though. He’s a handsy son of a bitch.”

  Clinton shared my laugh as Kennedy raised his eyebrows at me in question. I shook my head.

  “All right. Shorty, you know what to do.” Clinton opened the front door and Clarence followed him out into the growing daylight.

  “Make yourself at home, Shorty.” Kennedy waved to the couch. “Have a seat. There’s food and drinks in the kitchen. Bedrooms are down the hall.”

  Shorty leaned against the wall next to the door and hooked a finger in the curtain so he could survey the yard. “Thanks. You all plan on going anywhere today?”

  I said yes as Kennedy said no.

  “We should stay here,” Kennedy cautioned.

  “No. I need to speak with Guy. We have to tell him what’s going on. He might be in danger, too. He needs to know.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He scratched the dark scruff along his cheek. I imagined, for a brief moment, what it would feel like against my skin.

  “I don’t remember consulting you for advice on the subject. Shorty, let’s leave at eleven or so. I’m going to try to get a nap.”

  “No problem.” He didn’t move from his spot at the door.

  I sidestepped Kennedy and returned to the master bedroom.

  He followed. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Scarlett.”

  “I’m safe. We have Shorty.” I pointed in the direction of the living room.

  “I’m coming, too.” He stepped closer, the room becoming smaller with each move he made.

  “I figured as much.”

  He placed a hand on my hip. “I can stay in here. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to. But I want to know you’re safe.”

  I sighed, wanting his touch but knowing I shouldn’t. “No one is getting past Shorty, and we need to rest. Did you sleep at all last night?”

  His breath tickled my ear. “No. I almost fell asleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking of you.” He placed his other hand on my waist and pulled me into him. Wrapping his arms around me, he just held me.

  I didn’t realize how much I needed it until he did it. The fear and adrenaline of the attack had drained me, and with his comforting arms and warmth, I let my eyes close and rested my head against his shoulder.

  “Let me stay. Please. I’ll be good.”

  I snorted. “Have you ever been good?”

  He swayed me back and forth a little, as if dancing me to sleep. “No. But for you, I’ll make an exception.”

  “I think your dick poking into my stomach says different.” I shook my head, but didn’t open my eyes. His lullaby was working.

  “Oh, that’s just a banana in my pocket. Don’t worry. I’ll let you snack on it later if you get hungry. Come on.” He scooped me up and lay me on the bed.

  He set my suitcase on top of his dresser and closed the bedroom door. “Take your pants off.”

  I opened my eyes, trying to glare at him though my eyelids were almost too tired to cooperate. “You said—”

  “I know what I said. Take your pants off so you’re comfortable. I noticed you’re a Tshirt and panties kind of gal.” He smirked and pulled his shirt over his head before loosening his belt and stripping down to his boxers. “I like it.”

  “I’m trusting you.” I stared at the rod in his shorts, color rising in my cheeks, and stripped off my jeans. I snuggled into his sheets as he got in bed next to me. “No touching.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He put his hands behind his head.

  I flipped onto my side so I faced him. The sheets smelled like detergent and his aftershave, and I found myself inhaling and burying my face closer to the pillow.

  “See you in a few hours.” He smiled, the boyish dimples making him seem as innocent as he claimed to be. How many women had fallen for it?

  I supposed I was one of them. Another Kennedy conquest. I was too tired to care. I closed my eyes and drifted off.

  A low rumble woke me. My eyelids fluttered open and I froze. I’d snugged up against Kennedy in my sleep. The low rumble was his quiet snore. I tried not to laugh, but I sort of chuffed out my nose.

  He woke a little and pulled me closer, his palm pressing into my back. I’d slung my leg over the top of his thigh and I was trapped against his side. His breathing evened out again—no snoring this time—and he relaxed.

  I started to ease away from him, carefully lifting my leg and scooting it on top of my other one. He tensed again and rolled to his side, pulling me into his chest and pushing his thigh between my legs.

  “You’re awake,” I whispered.

  He didn’t respond and began breathing deeply again.

  It was like being hugged by a well-muscled, delicious-smelling bear with a hard-on. My panties were damp and I bit my lip at the thought of how easily he’d slide into me. I had to get away from him before I made a mistake. Glancing to his windows, I saw slivers of midday sun pouring through. It was time to get going.

  “Kennedy.” My voice was too breathy for my tastes.

  He moved his thigh up higher between mine, pressing into my pussy. I stifled a moan at the friction and the thick length of his dick against my leg.

  “Kennedy, wake up. We have to go.” I dug my nails into his side for emphasis.

  He gripped my hair with one hand and palmed my ass with the other.

  “Scarlett.” His lips found mine, taking my breath away in a possessive kiss. I clawed harder into his side, but opened my mouth for him. He sank his tongue inside me and ground his cock against me.

  I moaned, unable to keep my desire in check as he pressed his thigh into my pussy, rubbing it with each thrust of his hips. Need overtook any thought I’d had, any reasoning that would have led me from his bed. He squeezed my ass, and I captured his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down.

  His eyes fluttered open and he froze. “Oh, shit.”

  I let my head fall to the pillow. “You really were asleep?”

  He blinked and stared at me. “I was having the best wet dream of my life.”

  “Sorry to interrupt. Go on back to sleep. Maybe you can find it again.” I couldn’t keep the smile from my face.

  “Oh no. The real-life version is much, much better.” He leaned in and kissed me again, gentler this time but still with the same heat that made me combust.

  He let go of my hair and palmed my breast through my Tshirt, kneading and squeezing as he moved on top, still straddling one thigh. His cock rested full and hard against me through his boxers. I wanted to taste it, but when I tried to push him off me, he grabbed my wrists and pinned them over my head in one hand.

  He bit my throat and trailed his teeth down to the Vneck of my Tshirt, kissing my collarbones as he went. Sliding his hand under my shirt, he gripped a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it as he kissed my chest.

  I squirmed against him, but
his leg against my pussy only made my mind grow fuzzier.

  “Kennedy.” I moaned as he licked back up my neck, his fingers still at play on my breast.

  He moved his other leg between mine, the head of his cock sliding against the wet fabric of my panties.

  “So fucking wet.” He eased his hand down my body, sending goose bumps radiating out along my flesh, until he got to my pussy. Pushing my panties aside, he teased my clit as I writhed and moaned beneath him.

  “Y-you said you wouldn’t touch me, remember?” I had to throw something out there. “It was like a contract.”

  “It wasn’t a contract, only an offer. One that was rejected the moment I woke up to you biting my lip.” He swirled his fingers lower and pushed them inside me.

  “Mmmm. Are you saying I made a counteroffer?”

  “Yes. One that I’ve accepted via performance.”

  I gasped when he thumbed my clit. “So, you paid attention in law school after all.”

  He grinned and squeezed my wrists. “Let’s not get too carried away.”

  I leaned up and kissed him, licking across his lips. He followed me back down to the pillow, slanting his mouth over mine and continuing to stroke me as I rocked my hips against his hand.

  A knock on the door sounded like a series of three gunshots. “Ms. Carmichael, it’s almost eleven thirty. You said you wanted to leave right around now.”

  His words brought reality crashing back down. We were in danger, and I needed to speak to Guy about all of it.

  “Fuck.” Kennedy sighed. “We’ll be right out.”

  “All right.” Shorty’s steps faded down the hallway.

  “You backing out on the contract we just made?” He kissed my neck, his fingers still working my clit.

  I wanted to keep going, but we had responsibilities. “Yes.”

  He released my wrists and dropped a kiss on my lips. “But you’ve only partially performed. You’ll be in breach.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “You want me to promise future performance?”

  “That’s the only way to avoid a breach and thousands—” He rolled off me, scanned down my body and then back to my eyes. “—more like millions in damages I’m sustaining for not getting inside you right now.”