Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Straight No Chaser
Nikki Belaire
Happy Drunk Productions, LLC
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Nikki Belaire
Copyright © 2017 by Nikki Belaire
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To my real-life “Molly,” you are beautiful, generous, and strong. Thank you for being my first fan.
1
Chapter One
I turn toward the window, trying to ignore the sucking and slurping sounds coming from the girl going to town on my brother’s cock next to me. The view outside as black as our souls. Only the hazy glow of street lamps breaks through the darkness. Although no such redemption exists for our sins.
I meet Kurt’s eyes in the rear view mirror from his throat clearing. He’s been driving our stupid asses around for years and has seen us do and say a lot of raunchy shit. But this is the worst. I’m no fucking angel, but even this shocks me. I head bob and a few seconds later the screen between us and him starts to lift. What I fucking wouldn’t give to jump through before the divider closes. Slide over the leather and act like none of this is happening. Or better yet, go back in time to when I didn’t care and this Friday night ritual was still fun.
Back when Tyson had standards. If the girl brought up chicken or boxing, he’d move along. Plenty of pussy he’d say, than to waste time on girls who aren’t fucking bright enough to get that he’s heard those lame ass jokes a fucking million times.
Back when I went along for the game and enjoyed all the benefits without any of the work. Always the thrill of the chase for him. He’d do all the smooth talking. Finding the girl who enjoys his slick lines and taking it in the ass, which is his favorite. Me, I refuse to put my dick in a shit hole, literally. But, that’s the kink he likes, which made it easy for me to focus on the front. Big tits and tight pussy make me a happy man.
Well, at least they used to.
Bile churns in my gut. Nothing’s been the same since Rachael. Not me. Not Tyson. We both want that ache gone. He does it by fucking everything that walks. I do it by drinking everything that burns. Both of us fucking failing miserably.
“Yo, Luc, get in on this action.” He points to her head bobbing up and down, a mass of black curls coiling down her bare back, from him popping her bra off as soon as they climbed inside. “No reason to wait until we get home to get those panties off.”
She glances over at me and pauses in her work, her eyes widening at the realization. And there it is. That flash of uncertainty in her eyes. That sudden comprehension that yeah, it’s a fucking stupid idea to go home with two guys you just met when you’re so wasted. You’ve left behind your girlfriends and your morals, and now your stupid ass is trapped in a limo at two in the morning going god knows where for a three-way that sounded so fucking fantastic thirty minutes ago.
“Nah, I’m good.” I look at this pathetic woman, on her knees and half naked, and feel enough shame for both of us. “You and…” Fuck, I don’t even know her name. “You guys have fun without me. I’m out.”
“Come on, don’t be a prick. You—”
I give him the look. The do not fuck with me, or I will break your motherfucking jaw look and he shuts up. Peace for a few seconds before he rolls his eyes and turns back to…whatever the fuck her name is.
He has his own stare that he slays her with. The women love his coffee color skin and unexpected piercing green eyes. Fucking lucky bastard to get those exotic features from his mother rather than the stereotypical dark Italian traits our father gave me. And Ty never hesitates to use them to melt their thongs right off their asses and onto his lap. His finger slides under her chin and he winks, reminding her that the job isn’t finished. A hint of hesitation before she grips his shaft, and greedy gurgling fills the limo again.
I pull out my phone and scroll through the messages. My own cock twitches at the one from Molly. God, she’s so fucking beautiful. And sweet. Probably would taste like fucking sugar if I licked her ivory skin. Which blushes anytime I talk to her. Those dainty fingers pushing her blond hair behind her ear or fluttering over those lips that look so delicate I would bruise them from taking her so hard. Fuck. Which I can never fucking do. Or, she’ll fucking leave, killing both me and Eli.
My fingers ache from gripping the door handle so tight as we turn onto the driveway. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here. Away from the soft core porn playing out in the back seat. Kurt slows in front of the house, and I hop out before he even gets the gear into park. I jog inside straight to the wet bar even though I’ve had more than enough.
The glass doesn’t make it to my lips before I hear the sound that makes me so fucking hard. Molly’s silky voice floats from down the hallway. Her whisper in the darkness like fireworks to my dick. Words that tempt me to follow them like a fucking puppy, curious to see who she’s talking to and why at this hour.
His voice, squeaky and uncertain, douses my need like fucking ice water. His door is cracked open a few inches, and I lean against the frame taking in her beautiful body curled around his tiny one.
Molly strokes over his hair, black like mine. One of many physical similarities we share from our dad. Our stupid, piece of shit father who thought with his heart too much and ended up almost destroying both of us because of it. Eli cuddles closer, accepting her tender affection as well as her assurances.
“You know, we can talk to angels in heaven just like we do people here.”
“Really?”
“Of course. They can’t answer back but that doesn’t mean they don’t hear us.”
He nods, but seems uncertain. Doubt lines his forehead. She smiles at him, the fucking million dollar grin I’d fucking give up everything I own for the sentiment once to be meant for me.
“Try it, like this.” She clears her throat, making it very official. “Mrs. Ellison, Eli and I ate pizza for dinner tonight. You know how much he loves extra cheese. I tried to get him to order it with some vegetables like green peppers and tomatoes, but he told me that was gross. So we did half and half even though I’m pretty sure I saw him sneak a teeny, tiny mushroom off my piece.”
Eli giggles, that infectious four-year-o
ld laugh that sounds like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Except he isn’t quite that lucky. But, at least for right now, she’s here to comfort him in the middle of the night when his own mother can’t be.
“So, did you like it?”
The cowlick on the crown of his head shakes from his agreement. A huge yawn accompanies his eyes sinking shut and she kisses his forehead, tucking the blanket tighter around him.
“Molly?”
“Yeah, buddy?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
No hesitation. No pause. No lie. She gives of herself so freely and honestly. Fuck I’m a lucky bastard to have found this angel for him.
“Now go to sleep. It’s late, and we’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“The zoo.”
“Yeah, the zoo. I can’t wait to check out the baby wolves. And the snakes. And maybe even ride on the carousel if you’re good. We can stop for ice cream if you’re really, really good.”
Eli’s breathing evens out, his body softening from her melodic voice. Weaving a relaxing spell around him to lull him back to sleep. Fuck, just like me. I’ve got to jet before she catches me. I stride to the living room and grab the bottle. My company for the night. At least better than Tyson, his arm tight around the girl’s waist, holding her drunk ass up.
He meets my eye. “I’ll be back in a few.”
I nod. As much as a dick as my brother is, I know he believes in complete consent and doesn’t give them hard time when they bail. Doesn’t hurt either that he’s never forgotten the one time he took a mind-changer home only to meet her three sober roommates. Nine holes in four hours remains the unbroken record. Damn, he’s such a fucking pervert. At least he always wears a condom.
“Oh?”
My head whips around at the startled gasp behind me. Molly stares wide-eyed at the half-conscious woman. “Avery?”
The girl’s head lifts from Tyson’s chest, squinting at our nanny until recognition flashes in her slits for eyes. “Oh my God, Molly? Are you fucking them too?”
Her face grows paler, if that’s even fucking possible. “N-no. I’m babysitting. I take care of their little brother. On the weekends. I’m not…We’re not…No, I don’t…”
Something about her rambling, her embarrassment pisses me off. We’re soiling her. She’s this fucking innocent, small town girl we were so fucking lucky to find and now she’s discovered the truth about what fucking asses we really are. Not that she probably didn’t already know, but god damn it angers me more than I can understand to rub it in her face.
So I do the gracious and gentlemanly thing and fucking turn on my brother. “Take Avery home. Now.”
He may be the dom in the bedroom, but I run the shit in this house and our company. And, she needs to get the fuck out of here.
“Sure thing, boss man.”
A little dig to remind me he doesn’t like taking orders. Or being younger than me. Or answering to me. But it was all spelled out in the will. And even if it wasn’t, I would have fought to the death to make it mine.
Tyson’s too much like our father not to be. Follows his dick before his head every chance he gets. I don’t have the time or patience for any of that shit. Not when so much is riding on my ass. We’ve already brought this family to its knees once before. I refuse to let it happen again.
Avery flails against him, and he scoops her up. Gentleman enough to not let her fall on her ass or her face. She manages a small wave to Molly, a Cheshire grin playing on her lips. “His dick is huge. You don’t…”
Ty tucks her closer, muffling the rest of her words. Nobody wants to hear that shit, especially the young woman curling her arms around herself, the crimson on her cheeks darker than blood.
“Molly, wait. I’m…”
What? Didn’t bring her friend here to three-way with her? That I changed my mind because neither her mouth nor her pussy can erase everything I want to forget? That I’m an evil monster for imagining all the delicious things I wish you wanted me to do to you?
“I’m sorry. Just really sorry.”
Her head nods, long and slow. “Me too.”
Fear seeps through her brief admission, before she turns and runs down the hallway, her tiny feet bounding over the hardwood until her door clicks shut. I swear to fucking god I hear the lock latch. Which I could fucking kick down in a heartbeat if I had to. But I won’t. A perfect reminder she’s off limits and always will be.
2
Chapter Two
I loll in bed like a fucking pussy. Hiding within that timeless space between sleep and reality. Because I don’t want to argue with Ty. I don’t want to fight through the hangover churning in my head and my gut. And I sure as hell don’t want to fucking face Molly.
Most people go to church to atone their sins. That’s absolution I’ll never fucking earn. Especially from the angel downstairs. Filling the house with the sweet temptation of pancakes and maple syrup. A bittersweet chuckle bubbles in my throat. Eli and everything in a two foot radius of him probably sticky and crumb covered.
So these are my choices. Man up and eat breakfast with my little brother. And fucking face the shame and awkwardness of Molly’s disapproval. Or, be an asshole and torture myself on the asphalt with sweat and pain until they leave for the zoo.
I roll out of bed and head into the bathroom. Only gagging once as I brush my teeth, swallowing back down the whiskey and self-loathing threatening to drown me. I pull on my running shorts and grab my shoes. Yep, bastard it is. Always have been, so no reason to change now.
Jogging down the back stairs two at a time like a man with a ghost on his ass, if not his conscience, I focus on my path. Through the butler's pantry and dining room to the patio doors. Then I'll be free.
I skip the last step, gaining speed as I turn the corner — my goal in reach. Only a few more steps. A flutter of silver fabric flashes in the mirror above the wet bar but I'm unable to stop in time.
Molly.
"Fuck!"
“Oh!”
Her petite body is no match for my size and momentum, and she stumbles back, unable to keep from falling on her cute little ass. A casserole dish slips from her hand crashing to the tile, littering the floor with slices of French toast. She blinks a few times before looking up, and fuck me if her huge blue eyes aren't filled with tears. Uncertain if they're from pain or embarrassment. It doesn't fucking matter. Either way she cries because of me.
Before I can think, I scoop her up. Her body’s rigid and unyielding under my touch. But then I feel it. For that split second her gaze meets mine and her chest lifts from the deep intake of breath. Her delicate hand rests on my pounding heart. She’s not afraid.
And I'm almost fucking delirious with happiness. An emotion I haven't felt in too damn long. I just stare at her fucking beautiful face. Savoring this gorgeous woman I never expected to have wrapped in my arms. If only for a moment.
Her long blond hair brushes over my forearm, making goosebumps rise on my blazing skin. The little pulse in her throat races like my throbbing cock. Instinct kicks in, and I curl her tighter against me. It would be so fucking easy to nuzzle her neck and breathe in her sweet scent. God I fucking need this girl in my bed. "I didn't—"
A sharp gasp breaks the spell, and she pulls her eyes from mine, nodding toward her bare feet. "I'm bleeding."
Blood.
Fire singes my pounding chest. A line of scarlet sneaks across her heel, with thick drops falling to the grey porcelain like a rich merlot.
Nothing like the blood that covered my hands.
And her face.
Tyson's bare feet from running to Rachael crumpled on the floor.
While I just stood there like a dumb ass. Too shocked to do anything but watch her life spill out onto the concrete.
Fucking shit. I shake my head, forcing away the memories erupting in my brain, and focus on Molly. She clutches me, pinching my skin when I jerk toward the kitchen. Glass shards crunch under my N
ikes as I race away from the reminder of my selfishness.
Eli’s fork clatters from the sudden descent to his plate. His wide-eyed gaze jerks from me to the woman we both love. Not sure if I’m jealous or relieved that he cares more about her than me. But the fear furrowing his brow jabs my gut like a punch. Ty and I might be assholes, but we’d never lay a finger on a woman, and Eli needs to know that straight up fact right now.
“She cut her foot on broken glass. Don’t go back there. I’ll clean it up after we take care of her.”
Eli looks to her, seeking her confirmation. She gives him a confident smile, relieving his doubt, and my shoulders relax as his body softens. Yet shame still swills in my stomach from him not believing me. Fuck me for letting our relationship get to the point where he trusts his nanny over his own fucking brother. I've got to fix that shit in a fucking hurry.
I shove the heaping platter of scrambled eggs and bacon out of the way and gingerly set her on the marble top. Already missing her silky skin warming my bare chest. Pushing down the thoughts of what it would be like to lay her back and strip off the tiny thong I know she wears. Nothing makes me fucking harder than when the satin ribbon peeks out from above her jeans when she bends over to pick up Eli's toys and games.
He hops off his stool and bounds down the hallway toward the bathroom. "I'll get the first aid kit."
Damn, I fucking love that kid. So fucking smart. I can't help but smile at his desire to help.
"I'm sorry, Luciano. I didn't see you on the steps."
Luciano.
Nobody but my mother and her can get away with calling me that. And it's like lightening straight to my balls every time my full name rolls off Molly's sweet lips. How she slowly tested each syllable on her tongue after I introduced myself during our interview. So earnest trying to ensure she pronounced it correctly. I never set her straight. Even though Ty and Eli call me Luc she never does. And I'm not sure I ever want her to. "It's my fault, angel. I need to slow down."
Straight, No Chaser: A Mafia Alpha Bad Boy Romance Page 1
