I'm also not her type, and I know that. Jensen said she's some big firm, big city lawyer.
Plus, there's that little boy. That just hits a little too close to home.
So it's best that I think of her as a conquest. I know she'll be more of a challenge than the rest. But they can never resist me.
And I saw the way she looked at me. Like she didn't want to be looking at me that way. But like she couldn't help herself.
I know exactly what she wants me to do. She wants me to rip off that little cheerleading skirt she's wearing. She wants me to slap that nice ass she's teasing me with.
She wants me to pull her hair back and punish her for being such a slut on Halloween. I just know it.
So I'd better get to this costume store before it's too late. I need to fuck the living daylights out of Brynn Presley, and apparently buying a costume is a necessary first step towards achieving that goal.
Chapter 6 – Larson
Jensen and I arrive at the Tucker Mansion in time to join the back of a really fucking long line.
"Great," I mumble under my breath, hoping that Brynn gets here soon.
I'll be more than happy to let her cut in line in front of me so that I can peek at her cute ass sticking out of her skirt. But I'm not even sure if that view will be enough to ease my impatience.
I fucking hate waiting in line even more than I fucking hate dressing up in ridiculous costumes. And as I look around at the other people waiting in line, I realize they're the type of pretentious fucks I hate hanging out with even more than I hate waiting in line and wearing a costume.
They're all blonde, plastic and look like they bought their glitzy Halloween costumes on Rodeo fucking Drive. And this elaborate mansion is doing its job of creeping me out. Mostly because of its over display of gaudiness. And also because being here means being stuck inside it with a bunch of crazy people.
"Calm down," Jensen tells me. "Brynn'll be here with Riley before we know it."
"She'd better be," I tell him. "Because I need to stare at that fine ass to make this wait in line a little more bearable."
"I didn't mean it for that reason," Jensen hurries to add, always the loyal family man. "I meant that once Brynn gets here…"
"Sorry we're late," says Riley, coming up to Jensen and smacking him on the ass.
He bends down to kiss her. Those two make me sick with their public displays of attention. Don't get me wrong— I'm happy for them and I never thought my buddy Jensen would be in such a good relationship.
I met him when we were in pararescue school together, training for the Special Ops. He was always kind of a mopey guy because his father had died. I always thought he'd do all right for himself because at least he was close to his two brothers, Harlow and Ramsey.
But he really took a turn for the worse when he was arrested and forced out of the military, all for trying to help his mom through some tough times. Sadly she'd always been a piece of shit mom but all three of those Bradford boys had consistently done their best to help her. They knew how much their dad had loved her, for some crazy reason, because she'd been just as bad of a wife to him as she was a mother to him.
Jensen really took a turn for the worse after his dad died and that's when I invited him to check out the Desert Dogs. I’d joined when Jensen was still deployed and I knew he wasn’t that into motorcycle gangs and didn’t see himself as a motorcycle club kind of guy. But I figured that the Desert Dogs could give him a sense of community and support. I know that being in the club helped me through my hard times.
Hanging out with the Desert Dogs and riding the desert mountain roads did help Jensen clear his head to some extent. But at first he was in too much of a depressive funk to even be motivated to start to come out of it. It wasn't until he met Riley that he started to improve.
So I'm glad he found someone to help him through it. But that doesn't mean I want to be fucking reminded of it all the time.
"Nice costume," Brynn says, looking me up and down.
"Yeah, I decided to go with the theme you started," I tell her. "So we can match these two lunatics."
I hook my thumb towards the soap and loofa set that is Jensen and Riley tonight. Brynn laughs. As sad as I've been, I surprise myself by being happy that I've made that happen. Even if it took getting dressed up in this ridiculous costume.
I'm dressed like a football player. Fucking shoulder pads and all. I'd been in that damn costume store, staring at all the options and I just figured, fuck it. Brynn's a cheerleader, I'll be a football player. I might as well make my intentions obvious. Just in case she has any doubt.
"Well, Quarterback Larson and sidekick Soap Bar Jensen, why are you waiting in line?"
I just look at her, confused. Jensen seems to be as clueless as I am.
"Where else are we supposed to wait?" I finally ask her.
"Nowhere," she says. "You're supposed to come with me."
"Well, well, well," I mock, but I'm seriously impressed. And glad to be escaping Line Hell.
"Honey, did you forget?" Riley asks Jensen. "I told you we had VIP entrance. You must not have been listening."
She tsks her tongue at him.
"I was listening," Jensen says, mockingly defensive. "I was just telling Larson that once you and Brynn showed up, good things would happen in terms of the party. I just didn't know what exactly would happen. Because I didn't know know what VIP meant. I thought maybe we would get free drinks or something. Or I was hoping, anyway."
"We do," Brynn says.
"What? Woah."
Jensen shakes his head in amazement. I was already doing the same.
Free drinks. Now that's what I'm fucking talking about. Guess it's a good thing I decided to give up my resistance to lame Halloween parties.
"Brynn's got the hook up," Riley says. "How did you think we got invited to this exclusive party anyway? Tucker only invites a select few and their friends. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Brynn."
I shoot a quick glance at her. What did she do? Sleep with the guy?
Not that I'd be able to judge. I've probably slept with every girl in this city. And Tucker's a billionaire. The richest guy I know, he spares no expense at his lavish events and likes to show off every penny. If I were a chick, I'd sleep with him too.
"Tucker is a client of my firm's," Brynn says quickly, as if following my train of thought and wanting to disclaim it. "Halloween parties really aren't my thing, but schmoozing with the bigwig clients is part of my job as an associate."
"Don't I know it," Riley says, looking disgusted. "It's one of the things I definitely don't miss about working at my old law firm, Holt. But then again, I never would have met Jensen if I weren't required to represent people through nonprofit organizations, so I guess I shouldn't complain. I'm just glad he helped me see the light and get out of there."
"Well, I don't really have that option," Brynn quickly says, as we continue to make our way through the huge throng of people and to the front of the line.
"Oh, I know," Riley says. "I didn't mean to act like you did."
"There are things about working at my law firm that I don't particularly love," Brynn says. "I'm not a big people person. Not a schmoozer. I don't have those natural talents. But I do have a kid. And a huge student loan bill."
"I understand." Riley nods her head. "And I completely sympathize."
"So when my firm says I have to go to the Halloween party hosted by the billionaire client who lives in my city throws, I go, no questions asked. And I bring my best friend, of course."
"Thanks, Brynn," Riley says, hugging Brynn hard. But not in the same way that I want to fuck Brynn hard later, of course. "I'm so glad you brought us here."
"And I'm glad you can get us through the door quickly," I joke.
She turns around and smiles at me, and I know she'll let me cram my big cock into her later, just like she's letting me into this party now. This is turning out to be one hell of a happy Halloween.
&nb
sp; Chapter 7 – Brynn
As we approach the entrance to the Tucker Mansion, the men who looked from afar like bodyguards and servants dressed in nice tuxedos turn out to be vampires. One of them is standing so still against a column that he nearly scares me to death when he comes alive and says "I want to suck your blood!" as I'm handing our tickets to the girl at the door.
I jump, and Larson puts a strong arm around my shoulder.
Whew.
"Well, they've really got this whole haunted house thing down," I joke. "Very realistic."
But I lean up against him, grateful he's here because I was honestly scared. And it feels nice to have his hand on me too. I want him to stay close to me all night for multiple reasons.
As we start to enter the mansion, two people dressed as clowns run out and knock over the vampire who just scared me.
"Out of the way, Dracula!" one shouts, his face a twisted, creepy mess of distorted clown makeup. "There are new villains in town who are scarier than you."
The other clown laughs a sadistic, manic chuckle.
"And we aim to do our job well."
They both get up close in our face and laugh some more before running inside and hiding behind a curtain just out of view, waiting to scare the next group of people who enter.
"Holy shit," I say, leaning into Larson all over again.
"Wow," Riley says. "That's some freaky shit."
"It's okay, honey," Jensen says, patting her back and hugging her as best as he can in his square, cardboard costume. "It's just a scary prank."
"Yeah, who would have thought that clowns would be scarier than fucking vampires?" Larson proclaims.
I shake my head.
"Orange is the new black, reality TV creator is the new Presidential candidate, and clowns are the new vampires," Riley says, in an obvious attempt at a joke.
But her voice quivers as she delivers it, betraying the fear underneath her humor.
"I know it's just part of the act, but I think it was in poor taste," I say, shaking my head. "I mean, they were just saying that people shouldn't dress in Halloween costumes."
"I heard that Target banned them from the shelves," someone behind us pipes in.
"I'm pretty sure that Target stopped selling all Halloween costumes," someone else in their group says.
"Well, they can't be seen as discriminating against clowns," I say, and everyone laughs.
I'm glad to have made a decent joke, which eases my social anxiety. I hear Larson's deep, almost guttural chuckle and I'm happy to have made him laugh. It also eases my fear a bit.
"We'll have a good time," he says, his hand falling to my hip and lingering briefly before he lets go to open yet another door for me.
"This mansion has like eighteen lobbies," Riley jokes. "But I think we're finally inside."
Now that we're finally into the party, the music is loud and everyone's dancing. There are some great costumes here and I feel a little silly for dressing as a cheerleader. But at least I'm in good company— as no one can top the ridiculousness of what Riley and Jensen are wearing— and I'm glad that Larson joined me as a football player.
"This is a great party!" Riley says, squeezing my shoulder so we don't get separated in the crowd. "Thanks so much for inviting us."
"Any time," I tell her, and I'm glad she's here because I'm not much of a people person.
My job involves mainly legal research and writing, not the typical grandstanding stuff people think of when they think of a lawyer. That's more litigation. More like what Riley does.
I always just hung out in the background in law school, keeping my nose in the books, excelling as a writer and editor for the school’s law journal and acing my exams, while Riley was the star of mock trial and great at networking with other lawyers.
She liked to drag me out to a party on a Friday night after class or a Bar Association happy hour, or Saturday night after a day spent studying for finals. Although I was always shy at first, once I got some liquid courage in me, I usually ended up having a lot of fun.
I was grateful that Riley was able to bring me out of my shell and show me a good time. So I'm happy to finally be able to repay the favor.
This Halloween party is reminiscent of law school and the good old fun times we used to have. I don't think either Riley or I have really let loose since we had our kids. I decide to throw caution to the wind tonight, and relive those days.
As if reading my mind, Larson takes my hand and says, "Can I buy you a free drink, doll?"
I laugh. But I don't let go of his hand. Instead I follow him to the bar.
"Have fun!" Riley says, and winks.
She and Jensen are already cutting up the dance floor. They look like they're trying to remake Dirty Dancing, but failing miserably due to the fact that he's wearing a cardboard box that gets in the way. Clearly they want some alone time, so it's good that Larson and I are unexpectedly getting along so well.
We approach the bar, which has another enormously long wait. But Clay Tucker approaches us, with wristbands.
"Hello my dear," Clay says, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it to my haunted house Halloween party, all the way from New York City."
"Anything for the firm's favorite client," I tell him, returning the hug. "And thank you for inviting me."
"Of course," he says. "I've been inviting you for years but this is the first time you actually showed up."
I've been a little busy, I want to tell him. Having a kid and raising him. On my own.
But I don't say that. I can't. I have to schmooze. And nobody wants to hear sad sob stories.
Larson clears his throat and I nearly jump.
Oh yeah.
"Clay, this is... my friend. Larson."
"Nice to meet you, man," says Larson, shaking Clay's hand. "Great party."
What is Clay going to think? I wonder, mortified. Here I am bringing a biker, a known outlaw, to his posh party...
But Clay just smiles and says, "I aim to please."
I guess tonight Larson is just one of many party goers, dressed in costume and blending into the crowd. I feel a pang of guilt for being ashamed of him. But to be fair, he's from a completely different world. And he's made it clear that this type of gig isn't really his thing either.
It's good that tonight he and I can just get lost in the spirit of Halloween. We can both be someone different from the person we normally are. And maybe he can show me what a bad boy biker does to a woman.
I blush at the thought. Clay waves one of the bartenders over to us and then hands me a pile of wristbands.
"Take good care of these two," he tells her. "And whoever else they're with."
"You got it, babe." The bartender winks at him. "What'll the guests of honor have?"
"A Corona," I tell her.
"I've gotta make the rounds, and I have some announcements to make, but these wristbands will let you come right up to the front of the line at the bar and drink whatever you want, all night long," Clay whispers.
"Thanks!"
"You're welcome. I'm really glad you're here. Whenever I've dropped by the office for a case meeting, you've always caught my eye because you're gorgeous. But you always seem so serious and studious. I hope you have a blast tonight."
I blush again, wondering if people think I'm too reserved and stuck up. I want to tell Clay that I have a kid, that I can't go gallivanting around town getting free drinks at crazy parties all the time.
I already had my party stage, in law school with Riley. Since then I've had to grow up a lot. And I don't regret it because Caleb is my world.
But I know I can't go into all of that right now. Everyone is here to drink and have a fun time. So I best get on board.
"Happy Halloween," I tell Clay.
"Happy Halloween. Have fun."
Then he looks at me seriously, a line of worry crossing his face.
"But be safe."
What does he mean? I wonder. My mind
flashes back to the breaking news report I saw earlier, about the clowns.
"You okay, Dove?" Larson asks me, handing me my beer.
"Yeah. Clay just told me to..."
I'm about to say 'stay safe' but I don't want to dampen the mood, so I decide to try to forget about it.
"...have fun," I finish.
"Well great," Larson says. "I have just the thing that'll help with that."
He slides a small glass full of a small amount of clear liquid over to me. He has one too. And then he passes over a little to go container that has lime and salt in it.
"Is that..."
"Tequila," he says. "I thought it would go perfectly with your Corona."
"Oh my god, I haven't had tequila since..."
"You've never had tequila like this," he says.
He winks at me, and I get wet for him all over again.
"Oh no?" I ask, accepting the challenge.
"Definitely not. This tequila requires a kiss to quell the burn."
"Oh really?"
My heart is racing. I want this. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I do.
"Ready?" he asks, holding up his glass.
He sprinkles salt on my wrist and then licks it off. Then he applies more and I lick my own wrist in the spot where his mouth just was. I look up at him, begging for more.
"Ready," I say.
"One, two, three."
We both down the tequila and then he places the lime in my mouth. I suck on it. Begging him again.
And then he kisses me, soft and slow and perfectly.
He wraps his arms around me and puts his knee in between my legs. I press myself up against him, my body begging the way my eyes just were.
I would feel embarrassed by how much I want him, if I didn't also feel so turned on. My attraction to him outweighs my feelings of neediness.
"Let's go to the dance floor," he commands.
I follow him, ready for whatever tonight will bring.
"I'm not much of a dancing guy," he says, "but I need an excuse to be pressed up against you all night long."
No excuses needed, I want to tell him. But I don't say anything at all, because I don't want to ruin the moment.
Haunted Heart: A Halloween Bad Boy Romance Novella Page 3
