by Warren, Rie
She pulled away, and her hand fluttered to my chest.
“You ready?” My voice barely worked.
I forced myself to get out of the car, cross to her side, open her door. I helped her out and turned to step away, but she crushed herself against me.
“Thank you, Bo. I never thought I’d be able to come home again.” Tears poured down her face. She brushed them away but they just kept falling.
Hugging and kissing me, she thrummed with vibrant energy. Every single touch from her made me wish for a million more, but I couldn’t keep my calm mask in place much longer.
I disengaged from her, so close to tears myself.
I gathered her bag from the trunk of the car, hoisting it onto the porch by the front door before facing her one last time. “I’m really glad you’re happy, V.” Gruff and deep, the words cut through my throat. “I think I gotta say goodbye now.”
Yeah, before I start bawling like a baby.
“Huh?” V’s head swiveled up. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Well, you’re home now. And my place is in Charleston.” Striding around the car, I tried to make a dignified exit even though my heart was splintering into a thousand pieces, the pain worse than any physical wound ever inflicted on me before.
She hustled right after me and propped her hip against the driver’s side door before I could open it.
Her head lifted, her hair tossed behind her. “What exactly are you talking about?”
“V, I don’t think I can do this. You’re breaking my damn heart here, and I just need—” Rough and hoarse my voice cracked to a stop. I cleared my throat, squinting to keep the tears at bay. “You already broke up with me in Charleston so logic states this is the end of the line.”
Her eyes rounded. “And what about the part last night when you said you love me?”
I dumbly nodded. That was a given.
“And I said I love you.” Suddenly she smiled up at me, brighter than the sun. “I love you, you idiot.”
I peered at her warily. “I thought that was the shock talking. Or maybe I was imagining things.”
“Let me make this crystal clear.” Stepping closer, she laced her fingers through mine and brought my big rough hands to her lips. “This used to be home, and I’m so relieved and excited to come back. God, to see my family after so long! But my home is in Charleston. My home is my practice. My home is with you. I love you, Bo. I’m not leaving you. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“I shit you not.” She grinned.
I barked a laugh, pulling her into my arms. “Woman. I thought I’d lost you.”
“Nope. I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Not that easy at all, actually.” I frowned down at her.
She punched me on the arm. “Watch it.”
“Okay . . . uh . . . so, I’ll come back and pick you up later? I’ll go find us a hotel room? Unless you want to stay—”
V gripped my shirt in tight fists. “Now where do you think you’re going?”
“I thought you might like some time alone with your parents.”
“Did you return to your family alone?”
And that was how I ended up on her parents’ cool, deep porch when the door burst open and people rushed upon us. Her mom and her dad. Her siblings and in-laws she’d never met. Nephews. Nieces. And it seemed like hundreds more people poured outside. Veronica beamed in the middle of the mayhem.
Everyone hugged and laughed, shouted and cried, too.
And me? I was swept along for the ride right after her.
It was fucking perfect, and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
Chapter Eighteen
AFTER SPENDING FOUR EXTRA days with V in Santa Fe, I’d caught a flight back to Charleston. I’d basically shafted my clients with no notice, which was no way to start a serious business. Kinkaid and I still needed to nail down the final details on the premises being fitted out for our joint venture: part gym and part male stripper dance studio. It was a match made in some kind of fucked-up heaven, but I was sure it was going to take off.
V remained out west a couple weeks longer. She had years of catching up to do, and damn but her people could talk the ear off a telemarketer. Her family were pretty much working class heroes who saved and scrimped and paid cash for their luxuries like a yearly cruise to the Bahamas or the new marble countertops in the kitchen where old Formica used to be.
From her grandparents—both sets—to her brother and sister—both younger, married, with kids—and her folks . . . they were all good, solid people. The Youngs welcomed me with open arms, no questions asked. I knew they’d get along with the Maverick clan. I was even surprised to find myself excited by the prospect of them all meeting.
At the beginning of June, V flew home. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t biting at the bit to get at her. No sooner had I pulled her through the front door of her house than the pleasantries of her homecoming gave way to me pinning her against the wall and some serious long rough fucking.
She didn’t talk, only crying out in a series of louder and louder moans. My cock in her mouth; my fingers, my dick in her pussy. She sat on my face in the middle of her living room, and I kept her there until she collapsed above me, her thighs quaking, her belly trembling, my tongue still flicking at her. Then I nailed her from one end of her pretty downtown house to the other, filling and drilling every hot wet hole in her body until we’d passed out in a sweaty tangle of limbs in her sex-scented bedroom.
“Welcome home.” My voice rasped, hoarse and gravelly.
“Maybe I should go away more often.” She returned in a sleepy dazed murmur. Her lips were still swollen; I bet her cunt was too from my use.
Hooking her to me with my arms and legs, I laid my claim on her with a final full throttle kiss. “Don’t even think about it.”
V would have to make another trip out of town soon. She was still the prime witness against Saul Kosnik. Due to one last appeal from his high-rent lawyers, he’d avoided trial again for at least a few more months. I knew V just wanted it over and done with. So did I. I didn’t like the idea of her being involved in the case at all, but it wasn’t as if I could waltz into a supermax prison and just assassinate the dude.
Hmmm.
A couple weeks after she’d returned, I moved in with her. It was a no brainer. We were a no brainer. First of all, I had about three boxes of belongings to my name—and minimal shit in storage I hadn’t unpacked yet. Second, my house was a little low rent compared to hers. I wasn’t much for the city vibe—too many people rushing all over the place—but that didn’t factor into the decision.
After the shit V and I had been through, being together was all that mattered.
We were together a lot.
In the meantime we scouted property all over the lowcountry. We settled on a plot in Mt. Pleasant. It was close to the Ravenel Bridge for Veronica’s commute but far enough away from neighbors so I could have my way with her on the deck if I wanted. The land stood above the marshes that coursed a saltwater path toward the Cooper River, and we’d build our own deepwater dock. We purchased the acreage—construction of the house would come a little later down the road.
We were putting down our own roots.
Permanent ones.
****
Finally, late in July, the Grand Opening for HardCorps Gym and Hardcore Strippers arrived. The parking lot in front of our building teemed with vehicles, and by the looks of it we should’ve hired a valet or two.
I swooped into my personalized spot as V stared in wonder. “Jesus,” she said. “I’d say you’ve got yourself a winner.”
“Couldn’t have done it without you, you know?” I kissed her glossy lips and snagged her to me. “You saved my life.
“No more than you did me.” She sat back and straightened my tie. “Ready?”
“Not really.”
“’Course you are, a wise man once sai
d.”
“Wise is one thing I am not. Unless it comes to you.”
Dimples appeared on her cheeks. “Sweet talker. Help me out in this get-up?”
As I helped her from my Hummer, I took one last long gander at her. She looked like a million bucks. Screw the valet parking. I should’ve gotten a goddamn red carpet. I never realized I had a weakness for a woman in a dress until I’d met her. Or maybe my weakness was her. Whatever. I couldn’t unglue my eyes from the pale green silk swathed around her luscious curves. I didn’t quite understand how she managed to show that much cleavage and still look tasteful, but I was not complaining.
Man, I needed to focus, because at this point—as always—I just wanted to find a private place to fuck her.
We swam upstream through the sea of people, hit the double front doors, and got sucked into the party. Our hands parted, and she blew me a kiss. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by well-wishers with hired waitstaff handing me tiny little one-bite-and-it’s-gone tidbits and drinks on tap.
The huge area felt like a sardine can, but I didn’t hyperventilate, pat down unknown people for weapons, or even look for the nearest exit point. Seemed my continued therapy with Doctor Cartwright was paying off.
Kinkaid looked boss dressed in a gray suit, his white-blond fade freshly cut and his green eyes goddamn sparkly. Then again, the ex-stripper was used to thrilling an audience with his clothes on or off.
He clapped one hand on my back, shouting, “Fuck me, Bo. I think we pulled it off.”
I jerked him to me. “As long as you keep your clothes on around my side of things.”
“No worries. We won’t wave our dicks in your face.”
His righteous lady Sadie cut in. “That’s right. This cock only comes out for me.” She cupped Kinkaid down low, and he groaned.
She was just the kind of wholesome, badass, dirt biker babe not many women could get away with.
Kaid curled his arm around her neck and dragged her in for a kiss.
And now it was time to find my lady.
As I weaved through the throng, stopping every so often to do my version of schmoozing with potential customers, V appeared in my peripheral vision—the bright lights overhead glinting off her hair. I’d hear her sultry laugh only to be waylaid before I could reach her. When I finally had a direct line of sight on her, her gaze locked with mine before slipping all the way down my body and back again for a return trip.
Hot jolts of desire tightened my groin.
I guessed I didn’t look too shabby either in the new suit bought for the occasion.
We flirted without touching, without talking, without even being next to each other over the following hour, constantly aware of the other’s presence while we worked the crowd from opposite angles, sending sidelong glances across the room.
I lost visuals on her when I moved toward my side of the structure. For tonight’s event, we’d rolled open the walls separating the two businesses to form one big party space. The Hardcore Strippers side had been constructed with mirrors, hardwood floors, floor mats for gymnastics, and of course, stripper poles.
Inhuman-sized weights, cattle-style yokes, extra-large truck tires and vertical ropes courses made up the HardCorps Gym area. The best thing? Two garage-style doors of tinted windows that lifted to the roof opened the back of my gymnasium to the elements where new daily death-by-obstacle-course training would take place.
Deep in conversation with a boot camp-style fitness nut from downtown, I didn’t realize V was beside me until she touched my arm and heat crackled all the way down to my fingertips. I introduced her to Rambo then made our excuses.
There was no chance of finding an empty corridor, dark corner, or quiet spot to kiss or cuddle so I simply stood in the middle of the cavernous room, holding both her hands, grinning like an idiot at her.
She glanced around, taking in the bursting seams of the place.
I stared at her, unfazed by any of the other goings-on.
“I’m so impressed, Bo.”
“Yeah . . .” I tilted my head, not even listening.
Giving me a funny look, she asked, “Aren’t you thrilled?”
“Uh huh.”
“Are you even paying attention to me?” Her fingers tightened around mine.
“Oh yeah.”
I was paying a hella lot of attention to her, all my attention in fact. I heard voices droning on, didn’t give a shit. It was her . . . me . . . that sexy as fuck dress . . . her lips.
With no warning, I leaned down and crashed my mouth to hers. Oh damn. She tasted sweet, hot, spicy. The way her tongue met mine hesitantly at first—then spiraling, coiling, massaging—caused an entire starburst of colors to shoot off behind my closed eyes. I gripped her hips and she cranked her hands into my hair.
“That’s what I call HARDCORPS!” Brodie shouted. That was definitely Brodie’s voice.
Without ending the kiss, I flipped the middle finger in what I roughly surmised to be his direction.
Clapping, whistles, and laughter sounded off around us.
I only parted from V when the danger of fucking her against a wall in the middle of the party brought my raging arousal somewhat under control.
“Wow.” Her fingertips drifted to her mouth. “I think I need to go cool off now.”
“No way.” An arm locked around her waist and a hand resting just above her ass, I snagged a drink and passed it to her. “I like you hot and bothered.”
We circulated together after that, because I wasn’t letting her out of my reach let alone out of my sight for the rest of the night. Music blared from speakers. The open bar served a variety of high octane cocktails and healthy alcohol-free drinks. People tried out the equipment, tried out the stripper pole, and tied one on. The business not official for two more days, we got away with no liquor license. Kinkaid and I had signage hung above all the exits with the numbers for local cabs and Uber drivers. No one was going to get hurt on our watch . . . unless of course it was during a workout.
The folks who turned up to celebrate the grand opening of our joint operation made for an odd bunch. Tough cops, ex-squaddies, martial arts fanatics, boxers, men and women alike comprised my clientele while Kinkaid’s wannabe’s included limber-muscled men with a few smooth moves. Not to mention all the Retribution guys who showed up with their friends and their old ladies in tow. Add in the dancers from The Gentleman’s Quarters—Kinkaid’s old stripper stomping grounds—and this was one hell of a motley crew. HardCorps and Hardcore was a totally symbiotic relationship, and I’d be interested to see which clients from our personal rosters crossed over to try something different.
We shut it down at midnight, not a moment too soon. I’d seen Tail eyeing the stripper pole with more than a little wickedness in his grin. If he started getting naked, we’d have an all-out orgy on our hands. Police raid on opening night? Not good.
Kinkaid and I locked up our opposite ends and met in the middle of the emptying parking lot. We exchanged a hard hug and congrats over the roaring success.
Drawing away, I felt a little stunned. “Fuck. I think I’m gonna have to hire some helpers.”
“No shit? Me too.” A huge smile broke across his face.
****
The real party happened back at Retribution. Good thing it was the beginning of the weekend, and we weren’t opening for business until Monday morning because once I escorted V inside the MC everything went full force. I didn’t have to worry about the folks here. They knew how to handle their liquor, and Brodie, Boomer, and Co. wouldn’t let anyone leave tanked to their eyeballs, not with all the bunkrooms in the back.
In fact I had no worries at all until Tail rolled up.
“’Z’up, Doc?” Tail just couldn’t stop himself from baiting Veronica. “Wanna hit some balls with me?” He twirled a pool cue in his hand.
She batted her ridiculously long eyelashes at the black-haired roughneck. “Baby, I don’t think your balls are big enough for me.”
> Brodie strolled up behind Tail and shoved him on the back of the head. “You’ve been burned, Taylor.” The Veep of the club continued to me and V. “Let’s get you some drinks, huh?”
Tail stood in the middle of the bar, chuckling as we walked away. I cupped V’s ass and squeezed just to prove a point.
Good thing my balls were big enough for her. I’d hate to end up on her bad side again, especially since I couldn’t keep my hands off her.
Drinks were poured out and passed around as the denizens raised another shout to Kinkaid and me.
During a quiet moment, Boomer—big as a tank and just as deadly, I’d learned—took Kinkaid’s shoulders in his hands. “Damn proud of you, kid. Proved yourself to be a man. Earned your woman, Sadie. Started your own business.” Boomer’s ice-cap blue eyes shined for a second. “I bet your grandfather Dean would be real proud of you too.”
“Here, here!” Brodie lifted his beer.
We all followed suit.
Kinkaid swiped at his eyes, nodded, and downed a shot.
More claps, stomping boots, loud whistles made the rounds of the room.
Sadie, JB, and Ashe triple-teamed V and towed her away from me while the general clubhouse commotion continued.
“Time you met the rest of the Redemption women, Ronnie.” JB waved her fingers at me over her shoulder as she and the other ladies converged on my girlfriend.
I stood, frowning after them.
“Might as well get comfortable. Those women. In one place? They’re going to have a lot to talk about.” Hunter’s gold eyes glowed with evil delight.
I decided to take his advice, with a little twist to see if I could get V’s attention. I took off my suit jacket—slowly. Hell yeah, I’d watched Kinkaid go through a few practice runs, and I was a fast learner.
V’s eyes flicked quickly over to me.
Unbuttoning my cuffs, I rolled the crisp shirtsleeves up my forearms, flexing the muscles in my arms. I loosened my tie and let it dangle. V’s gaze returned for a greedy lingering look. My five o’clock shadow neatly trimmed, I’d had a haircut, wore a little cologne, the works.
