by Khan, Jen
"He's been mine for a long time, Tara. We just had to get our shit sorted out."
Her eyes get big and round. "I see he told you my name," she responds. She goes on to say, "He wasn't yours a few months ago when his mouth was between my legs."
My neck gets tight. My hair is about to go up and the jewelry is coming off before I connect my fist to her face.
Juice comes up behind me, putting his hands on the bar on both sides of me, caging me in. "And I think you need to get your prissy, too-good-your-shit-don’t-stink ass off that stool and be on your way, Tara," he suggests.
Olivia appears, getting into her space. "Now," she clips.
Tara ignores both of them, putting her elbows to the bar and crossing her arms in front of her. Now it is her turn to tilt her head.
"So let me get this straight. Braden had this"—she takes one hand, rotating it palm up—"and now he's settling for that?" She points at me. "He decided to go slumming."
I move in. So does Olivia and Charlena, who I hadn't noticed made her way over to where we are all standing.
Juice wraps his arm around my middle. "You see, Tara, Braden put up with your ass because you were making yourself available to him. You were actually a bit desperate from what I can remember. When a man has a piece of ass that makes herself as readily available as you did to him, he's gonna hit it. The only problem with that was"—he leans us both in—"he was thinking about Emma here the whole time."
Tara's mouth damn near hit the bar, Olivia giggles, Charlena flat-out laughs, and I take in a sharp breath.
Tara stands from the stool and says, "Fuck you."
"I'm busy, sugar, but I'll keep you on speed dial," he shoots back at her.
Big Pete laughs. I have no idea when he got here either. I hear others nearby laughing too.
Her bag slips off her shoulder, which she pulls up and slings back. She never even took her bag off her shoulder tonight. She planned to spew her poison and walk right back out the door. The problem with her plan is that it didn't go nearly the way she expected it to.
She glares at each of us one last time, throws one to the rest of the bar, and stomps out.
"Shit," I breathe.
Juice laughs, gives my middle a squeeze, and heads down the bar.
We all get back to work.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t go home after work. I go to Braden’s. We made this decision—or for a more accurate choice of words, Braden made the decision—earlier in the day when he was very adamant on us spending as many nights together as possible.
It isn’t that big of a deal considering that his house is closer to the bar than the apartment. He lives in a beautiful home nestled into the foothills. It is a two-level brick home with wall-to-wall windows that overlook the valley. I love it. The view is amazing from his back deck. I can see myself living here.
When you first walk in, you come into the great room, which is half the length of the house. Well, I call it the great room. Braden calls it his man cave. Here he keeps all of his biggest and best gadgets, TV, stereo system, and a huge black leather sectional couch. Off to the side, he has a treadmill and a weight bench. The back sliding glass door leads to a patio with a swimming pool and lounge chairs.
After you walk through the great room/man cave, the home has a formal living room, which houses an old dining room table that stays riddled with mail, men’s health magazines, and other junk.
Just beyond that is a huge yet outdated kitchen. I imagine gutting this kitchen and replacing it with hardwood flooring, all updated stainless-steel appliances, and a double wall oven.
Down the hall are the master bedroom, two smaller bedrooms, and a door leading down to a two-bedroom apartment that has a huge living space and also houses a flat screen TV, more exercise equipment, and a tan couch and loveseat set.
When I get there, he wastes no time getting me undressed and into his bed.
Braden rolls his hips against my body, the head of his dick teasing my entrance. He raises himself up and over me, holding his cock in his hand. He settles between my legs as I bend them and bring them wider.
Braden enters me and a groan escapes him while his head lowers into the crook of my neck. I gasp, and he moves slowly.
“Braden,” I breathe out, barely audible.
He lifts his head and closes his eyes, grinding his hips back and forth. He is moving so slowly that it’s like torture.
He threads his fingers with mine and brings my arms above my head and together so that he can hold them with one hand while his other finds my hips. His hooded eyes look into mine.
I wrap my legs around him to bring him closer and urge him to go faster.
“I love you,” he groans.
“Me too,” I reply.
“You are so beautiful,” he smiles, staring down at me.
I am losing control of my emotions. My heart is so full. I am smiling again, laughing again.
I place my hands on both sides of his face and whisper, "I finally feel again. Because of you, I can feel again."
Braden picks up his pace, bending down to lick the skin behind my ear. I moan, and he starts thrusting inside of me—harder, faster.
“Oh my God, Braden!” I scream as I felt my orgasm erupt through my entire body.
“Keep your eyes open, baby.”
Braden pumps faster, burying himself deep as I gaze up at his beautiful face. His eyes are hooded, lips parted.
He growls loud and deep. The pace of his hips slows and he stills, planting himself deep, keeping his eyes on me the entire time.
Wow!
He lowers his forehead to mine and closes his eyes as we come down. I close mine and struggle to catch my breath.
Braden kisses and sucks his way down my neck, stopping at my shoulder and lightly nipping it. I smile and let out a little giggle. He glances at me, flashing a hot, sexy grin and bringing his mouth to mine.
He rolls slightly, pulling out slowly and I gasp from the loss of him.
“I’ll never get over that look. That look that you are completely satisfied and I was the one to put it there.”
I try to smile but yawn. Braden moves down to the foot of the bed, pulling the covers up over our bodies.
I flip on my side, pulled the cover up to my chin, and look over my shoulder. “Without you, I don't think that I would have made it through this hell I've been trudging through.”
"That's where you're wrong. It was all you. You didn't let anyone or anything that life threw at you to define you. It's all in you, which has to make you the sexiest woman I've ever known. I didn't do anything—just there for support."
If only he knew how wrong he really is.
A moment later, he extends his arms around me and pulls my body across the bed, my ass curling into his hips as he lifts his knees and settles into the crook of mine. His front is pressed into my back.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers, kisses and smiles against my ear.
I fall asleep safe in the arms of the man I love.
Chapter Seventeen
Holly, Olivia, and I decided it was time for margaritas and fajitas. Oh boy.
We are sitting in El Chili Rojo all gussied up on a Wednesday night. I am sporting an emerald green halter top with dark jeans, my silver heels, lots of silver around my neck to match, and my hair flowing down my back.
Olivia is wearing a simple, sexy black dress that shows off a generous amount of cleavage and dips low in the back, and if she bends over, she’ll be giving away all her cash and prizes. Her light brown hair with magenta highlights is styled in a pixie look. She is working that bright red lipstick and black eyeliner. Unlike her brothers, she has softer features and a lighter skin tone. Now that I think about it, she resembles them but she’s not a dead ringer. The brothers could never deny the fact that they are in fact brothers. They look a lot like Jim. Olivia shares Jim’s eyes and cheekbone structure, but that is it.
She must look more like her mother. Her mother, Ale
xis Holt, died years ago when they were all younger. Braden told me the story a while back. She was coming home one night from the grocery store and was hit head-on by a drunk driver. Tristan was in the car with her. They were all close to her, and she adored all of her children. Learning of the stories they all shared while sitting around the dinner table made me wish that I had gotten a chance to meet this woman.
Jim described her as the most loving, kind, and caring woman who had ever walked the earth. Apparently she was the type of woman to spend Thanksgiving at soup kitchens, give her last dollar to someone in need, and take in stray dogs. According to Jim, Braden, Tristan, Jake, and Olivia, she damn near hung the moon.
I never had a mother I could remember, but I know if I had had one, I’d want her to be someone like Alexis Holt.
It is just us girls for a night out on the town. Even for a Tuesday night, the place is jumping. It is packed full, nearly wall to wall with people. The music was loud and they were serving margaritas by the pitcher.
I am drunk. Hammered is a better word for what I am right about now. I finish sucking back my second ‘Golden Margarita’ when the third pitcher arrives at our table.
Tonight we are all a hot, giggling mess. My whole body aches from all of the giggling. In fact, I’m pretty sure considering all of the pain in my stomach muscles, I won’t have to do crunches for a while. That’s how these nights always end up with us. Especially margaritas and fajitas night.
Holly went with a little red dress—and when I say little, I mean just that. She paired her little red dress with some light silver strapped heels. She did her hair up in a cute little twist and curled the pesky strands that always escape when she puts her hair up. She also went with the smoky-eye look and neutral lipstick.
The girl is tall. She is five foot nine, and in this dress with her never-ending legs, she is hot.
At the moment, she is doubled over the table, laughing hysterically at a story she is trying to tell us, of which I got absolutely none. Not because there is so much noise or because there are so many people, but because she is laughing so hard it has forced me and Olivia into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.
She dabs the corners of her eyes with the back of her finger. “So you and Braden…” Holly initiates.
“Lululululululu!” Olivia covers her ears with her hands, lowers her head, and closes her eyes tight. “Please don’t go any further. He’s my brother, and I may like to talk guys and sex and orgasms with you, but I CANNOT do it where one of my brothers is involved. Gross!”
“We’re not sleeping together. We are screwing. Okay, well sleeping is involved too, but only after orgasms.”
“Lululululululululu!”
“Well that sucks,” Holly mumbles.
“What sucks?” I ask, studying her face, which is now looking a little disappointed.
“I wanted to talk guys and sex and orgasms.” She is pouting.
“Holly, we need to find a guy to give you lots of sex and orgasms,” Olivia states, nodding her head.
“I found one to give me lots of sex and orgasms.”
“What?” Olivia and I collectively shriek.
“I found one to give me lots of sex and orgasms,” she repeats, eyes looking everywhere but at us.
I reach across the table and cover her hand with my own. “Sweetheart, that’s great! It’s been a long time since you’ve found a man to give you lots of sex and orgasms.”
Olivia claps her hands together and bounces in her chair. “Who is it? Is he hot? Do we know him? How good is the lots of sex and orgasms? Multiples? No, no… Of course multiples or you wouldn’t have mentioned it. Tell us!”
Holly’s head goes back and she looks up at the ceiling. She inhales deeply. Her eyes find mine. Then they move to Olivia.
“It’s Tristan,” she whispers. “Tristan gives me lots of sex and orgasms. Multiple, explosive, amazing orgasms. So many orgasms that I lose count every time. He’s fantastic in bed, a freakin’ animal. Yet he’s so attentive and sweet. He’s—“
“Lululululululululu!”
We all start laughing. I watch as my two girls laugh and wipe their eyes, dabbing their tears away, careful not to smear their makeup.
“He’s funny. He makes me feel beautiful. He makes me forget all of the shit in my life. Ever since he started giving me all of the sex and orgasms, I have felt so alive.”
There are two collective female gasps, and they came from me and Olivia.
“Holy shit, sweetheart. Are you in love with him?” I ask.
“No!” Holly shrieks. An ear-piercing shriek at that. So loud I thought the owners were going to have to call someone to replace every window in the place tomorrow morning. Maybe all the liquor bottles behind the bar too.
She slaps her hands over her face to cover it.
Olivia and I glance at each other. Looking back at her, I ask, “How long has all the sex and orgasms been going on?”
Holly’s fingers spread and she peeks through at me sideways before whispering, “Since the night after we went to the gym for our self-defense class.”
I slam back into my chair, floored. Olivia smacks her hands on the table, her mouth wide.
“Why were you keeping this a secret from us?” I inquire.
Her hands slide down her face, landing in her lap along with her eyes. “I wasn’t keeping it from you two exactly. There’s been so much going on, and of course I can’t talk about it with Olivia because she doesn’t like stories about her brothers having all the sex and orgasms and –“
“Christ!” Olivia mutters, smacking her head on the table. “I’m going to need more margaritas.”
I make a mental note to revisit this subject at a later date when we are alone at home. Or maybe I’ll bring her lunch to the office and I can get the scoop then. Either way, even in my drunken fog, I am so proud that my girl is finally getting orgasms. I am even happier that it is with Tristan. He is a good guy, and she needs one of those in her life. He had a little trouble with drugs back in the day when he was coping with the death of his mother, but he got help and turned his life around. The only thing that does worry me is that he is a ladies’ man by nature. Then again, all of the Holt boys are.
We drop the subject of Holly and her orgasms and carry on with chick speak and giggles.
I am having a hard time trying to pull myself together, but I am reeling it in when my phone rings.
I put my finger up in the air and swipe my phone across the screen. “Hello?”
I can’t hear anything that the man is saying so I put my finger to my other ear to see if that helps. Nope.
I stand and tilt my head at the girls before I walk back to the hallway of the bathroom.
“Okay, that’s better. Sorry. I couldn’t hear you. There are a lot of people here and—“
“Ms. Chase. This is Pierce Stewart from the D.A.’s office. I’m on the case against Mr. Delgado. We met a few months ago.”
My back goes straight, my head tips back, and my eyes go to the ceiling.
Oh God.
“Ms. Chase, Mr. Delgado posted bond. He has been released until his trial.”
I close my eyes and my throat closes.
My body starts to tremble. My body reacts the same way every time someone mentions that monster’s name.
“Ms. Chase? Are you still there?”
My eyes do a slow blink and I nod. Then I remember that he can’t see me nod my head.
“Yes,” I breathe, my eyes searching the crowd. I immediately start to panic and wonder if Jose is here. What if he knows where I am?
“How could this happen?” I inquire.
“His bond was posted and he was released to his brother Luis Delgado until the trial.”
“Is this something that normally happens? I didn’t even know someone could be released when there was clear evidence that someone was fucking guilty!” I find myself screaming at this point, and I try to collect myself.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Chase. I know that
this is difficult for you, but it is our responsibility to make sure that you are aware—“
“Yeah, thanks.” I remove the phone from my ear and press end.
Shit!
I head to the bar, order a shot of Jäger, smack a ten on the bar, and pound it back. The smooth heat rolls down the back of my throat. I wince and shake my head. It may be smooth but it has a punch.
I look back to the table where Holly and Olivia are seated. They are laughing and carrying on about their lives as they should be.
I throw down another ten and suck back another shot of Jäger.
“Darlin’, you keep taking them back like that and you’ll have to be carried out.”
I look down and squint at my shot glass. I look to the man sitting at the bar next to where I am standing. He tilts his glass at me and winks. He is an older gentleman, wearing an old Stetson hat, a white collar button-down shirt, light faded blue jeans, and brown cowboy boots. He also has the coolest white mustache that curls up at the sides.
“Fantastic,” I mutter back. I turn, leaning on the bar and watching my girls.
“So are you all shitfaced or just you, darlin’?”
I smirk at him, smack the bar, tell him to have a good night, and hit the dance floor. I am not going to curl up in a ball and cry this away. I am going to keep living my life. I don’t know if it’s actually my own strength or the false strength of tequila mixing with Jäger. What I do know is that it is margaritas and fajitas night and I’m not going to let anything piss on my good time.
I make it back to our table a sweaty mess. I grab the pitcher of water, which hasn’t been touched all night, tilt it back, and start guzzling. I slam the pitcher on the table, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and look to Holly and Olivia.
They are both studying me.
“What?” I ask.
“Honey, who was on the phone?” Holly inquires.
“Yeah, girl. You walked off on your phone and next thing we know you’re droppin’ it like it’s hot on the dance floor. Sup, buttercup?” Olivia pipes in.
“I was in the mood to dance.”
