Love Crazy (Welcome To Spartan #1)

by Ashley Lyn

  The bar is empty and quiet, except for the Jukebox. I’m singing along to some classic Eagles, while cleaning glasses and wiping down the counters when I turn around and see my husband—I mean, neighbor. It really should be illegal to be that good looking.

  “Hello, Luke.”

  “Alice.” His voice is husky, and the tone makes me shiver. My nipples harden as an image of him whispering my name like that in my ear, as he thrusts between my thighs overwhelms me, and I fight to keep my panties up. At this rate, I’m going to need to get suspenders to keep them up.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest. Damn, this man is lethal. Now my panties are completely decimated.

  “Bud Draft, please.”

  Grabbing a glass, I turn around and go over to the tap to fill it up. Sliding it over to him, I do my best to not overly objectify his hot body, but I suspect I’m failing miserably.

  “So, Alice, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

  “No.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “I’m boring.”

  “I doubt that. If last night was anything to go by, I would have to say that you are…interesting.”

  “Last night was a fluke. I was letting off some steam and imbibed a bit too much of the devil's brew, and things got out of control. Anyway, what about you? What’s your story?”

  “I own a graphic design company. I can work from home, so I wanted to find a quiet place near the ocean. Ya know, get away from the fast-paced city and relax a bit. I’m single, thirty-five, and hoping to get you underneath me. Preferably naked.”

  I choke on my own saliva. This sexy bastard’s just sitting there, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

  “Come on, darlin’, give me something here. Age? Current relationship status? Favorite sex position? Hell, I’ll even take a favorite color.”

  “Age, none of your damn business. I’m old enough. I’m in a long-term relationship with my vibrator. Favorite sex position is alone. Favorite color is clear.”

  He laughs, the ass.

  “She’s twenty-five, and she’s single. Her favorite sex position is doggie-style, and her favorite color is pink.”

  I gasp and turn around. “You fucking twat waffle! You shut your mouth.”

  My now ex-best friend walks up to Luke. “Hey, I’m Roger, her ex-fiancé turned best friend.”

  “You’re a traitor, Roger. Where’s Steven?”

  “He’s at home, baking me some cupcakes. He had a “surprise” for the best husband ever, and told me to get lost for a couple hours.”

  “Nice to meet you, Roger. I’m Luke, and I’m currently attempting to get into her ironclad flowered granny panties.”

  “That was totally a one-time occurrence. I only have, like, one pair of those. But while I was running around in my undies, channeling Laura Croft, I didn’t want a thong crawling even further up my ass and impeding my ability to shoot accurately last night.”

  “You didn’t hit one target last night.”

  “Christ, how long were you sitting there?”

  “Thirty minutes, maybe? And it was by far the most entertaining thirty minutes of my life.”

  Deciding to ignore them both, I grab a shot glass, fill it with Jose Cuervo and slam it back. Grabbing a lowball glass, I throw in some ice and fill it with Roger’s whiskey before plopping it down in front of him. I then jump up on the back counter and glare at them.

  “You should come over for dinner one night, Luke. I’ll give you the lowdown on my best friend.”

  “I’m more interested in the ex-fiancé comment.”

  I raise my hand. “I can fill you in on that one. We “dated” all through high school. We were homeschooled together, so it was just the two of us. We were going to wait for our wedding night, but decided to just go for it, ya know? Well, things were heating up for me, and I was so ready to do it, but he stopped right before the deed was about to be done and told me that I had the wrong parts, that he wanted sexy man bits, not girly bits. That the whole “wet pussy” thing was freaking him out.”

  Roger gives a little shiver, and I roll my eyes. Roger smirks at me and tells Luke the rest.

  “Shortest engagement ever. It lasted less than a day. Couple weeks after, I went off to college where I met Steven. We’ve been married a few years now. But, I want to see my friend here happy, so if you need help getting the inside track, just let me know. I’ve got all the deets on little Miss Ali.”

  “Nah, I’m good, but appreciate the offer. I’ll get everything I want to know out of her eventually. Makes the fall all that sweeter. Gotta work hard for the things you want, and nothing good was ever easy to get.”

  Good fucking answer, I think to myself. I look at him a little harder and blow out a breath. Just then, the door dings and I look up to see Sheriff Parker.

  “Shit, already? Christ, they just got started, like, two hours ago.”

  He stops in his tracks, eyes wide as saucers. “Who got started…no, Ali, please. Do not tell me your moms are out at Willa’s. I heard her daughter finally left. Shit. They are there, aren’t they?”

  I just giggle. “Yup. They came over, dressed to the nines, and were heading over to Willa’s. I told them no fires, no tattoos, no drugs, and absolutely no jail time.”

  “Fuck. I’m just gonna ignore any calls that have anything to do with them. I came in here to tell you that if Bruce comes in, don’t serve him. He just got out of jail and was still drunk from last night. His wife came and picked him up, but you know them. She’ll just drop him off here and go on home.”

  “10-4, Parker.” I grab a dry erase marker and write Bruce’s name on the bar’s “No Fly” list. Bruce was my next door neighbor growing up, and I wouldn’t say he was a con man per se, but the man was my security detail for my lemonade stand. He said that I needed security in case someone tried to jack my money, and he would only charge me the low low rate of unlimited lemonade. He is by far the most flamboyant straight man I have ever met in my life.

  With not much to do in this little town, the inhabitants have a tendency to drink a bit too much, and sometimes we put people on the “No Fly” list so that they can occasionally dry out.

  Parker gives Luke the side-eye. “Who are you? I haven’t seen you here before.”

  Luke spins on his stool and sticks out his hand. “My name’s Luke. I just moved here. Bought the house down the road from Alice.”

  Parker’s lips twitch. “Good luck with that.”

  “Have fun dealing with the girls tonight, Parker. I’ll be sure and text them that you’re looking forward to handcuffing them later.”

  His face pales, and I just wink at him. Margo and Cleo have been trying to get the straightlaced sheriff to play “cop and naughty wife” for years.

  Once Sheriff Parker heads out of the bar, I turn back to the boys. Roger’s phone beeps and a grin splits his face. He hops off the stool, comes behind the bar and gives me a hug and kiss on the cheek. He whispers in my ear, “Give this one a chance, love.” My forehead scrunches up when an auditory assault starts to drift into my ears.”

  “What is this shit?” I shout.

  Luke laughs. “It’s Blake Shelton.”

  “I’m sorry, but you just got knocked down, like, ten pegs on my fuckable scale. You’re now at a 75 out of 10, but still.”

  Luke looks like he’s settling in for the long haul tonight, and all I can do is shake my head. A few customers start filing in, so I decide to ignore him for now and concentrate on working the bar. I’ll think about him later…hopefully on my back, with my feet up around his ears. I’ll be thinking about it deeply—very deeply.

  es·ca·la·tion

  Luke

  Watching her glide around the bar, talking to customers all night is pure fucking torture. The way her ass flexes and jiggles in her too tight pants is making my pants feel way too tight.

  I’m not normally the type to jump cock first int
o a relationship, but Ali feels like she would sit right in my heart, and hopefully my lap. I’m more than ready to settle down and start a family; it’s the one thing that I’ve wanted my whole life. To be a good husband and father. I’ve worked hard towards my goal of being a man that would be prime marriage material.

  Physically—not to sound conceited—I work out regularly and watch what I eat. I have a successful career and own my own business. It seems like every time I’d thought I’d found “the one,” the more time went on, the relationship became lifeless, and would eventually end. To be perfectly honest, they’d either used up all their attractiveness in the beginning and turned into cold fish, or they’d turn out just plain creepy. One would lick all my silverware, and another I found sniffing my dirty clothes on more than one occasion. The few times I thought I’d found a decent one, my nosey ass sisters would come along and rip her to shreds.

  My eyes wander off to Ali, just as she bends at the waist to pick up something completely unimportant. Damn, the way those pants stretch across her ass is utter perfection.

  I hear a moan and look around, only to realize that it was me, since we’re the only two here. My mouth dries up, and my dick tries to punch a hole in my pants. I need to know more about her. She hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information, and my need to fuck her brains out is clouding my brain.

  Flipping around, she glares at me, fire spitting from those beautiful hazel eyes. “Why are you still here?”

  “Is it so bad, spending time with me?”

  “No, I’m just confused. I figured you’d stop in for a beer and be on your way. I feel like a bug under a microscope. It’s unsettling.”

  “Well, you don’t offer up much info, so I’m trying to absorb what I can, via osmosis.”

  “I’m not that interesting. Margo and Cleo adopted me at birth. They won’t give me much information on how they came to adopt me. They were prostitutes, so of course, I can’t see social services granting the adoption based on their professions at the time. My one and only long-term relationship was Roger, and you know how that turned out. I spend too much time between the pages of a book, in someone else's world, because this one rarely makes sense to me. I’m too skinny, and yet I still have this weird fat roll on my stomach. I’m uncomfortable around you because you make me want to hang my insecurities and climb you like a tree, and do the most unspeakable things to you.”

  I slide off the stool and start helping her flip chairs. “This is a sweet bar. Your moms said they own it? How did that come about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Margo’s grandmother used to live here. When she passed, she left her house, along with a substantial bank account to Margo. They adopted me, then moved here. The bar was falling apart, and the owner wanted to sell and move in with his son and his wife, so he sold it to the moms dirt cheap. They remodeled and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “Are they together?”

  “What, like married? No, those two are as straight as they come. They’re more perverted than any man I’ve ever met. My eighteenth birthday, they dragged me to an all-male review. It was the single most traumatizing experience of my life.”

  I flip the last chair, and there she goes, bending over again. The last of my control slips. As soon as she stands, I have her pinned up against the wall like a butterfly before she can take a breath. Running my tongue up the side of her neck, I close my lips around her earlobe and give it a little nip. The moan that works its way past her pinched lips is so sexy, it’s sick.

  My hands slide down her back and cup her perfect ass. I lift her up, pushing the chairs off the closest table and lay her out like a fucking buffet. She wraps her legs around my hips. I feel the heat from her pussy against my pants, and I thrust against her.

  I start kissing my way from her ear to her cheek, before planting my mouth aginst her lips. My tongue sweeps out, tasting and savoring her flavor.

  I give her another slow roll of my hips, and her eyes roll so far in the back of her head, all I can see are the whites of her eyes before they flutter and close.

  “I want you, Alice. I want you under me, on top of me. I want you snuggled up to me at night, sleeping against me. I want you in my home, dancing around and shaking this sexy little ass, just for me.”

  I slide my hands up her waist to push her shirt up, and with a quick flip at the front clasp of her bra, her breasts spill out. I move down and place my mouth around her nipple. Her back arches up as her hands grip my hair tightly.

  I continue to suck and grind against her when her body stiffens. The scream that works it’s way out of her throat is deafening as she chants my name over and over as she comes.

  I run my thumb along her cheek, wiping her tears away. Embarrassment blankets her face, causing anger to surge to the front of my mind. She has nothing to be embarrassed about. The fact that she would be even remotely embarrassed by taking her pleasure pisses me off.

  She tries to scramble off the table, and ends up knocking it sideways. I roll us carefully, and make sure I land first on the floor with her on top. Flipping us so I’m on top, she braces her hands on my chest and tries to push me off.

  “Let's get one thing straight right now, Alice. You don’t run away from me, ’cause I will chase you. Here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna finish up here and head back to your house and go to bed. In the morning, we’re gonna talk, get to know each other. Then I’ll take you out to lunch and see where our day goes. I want to get to know you. I have never felt like this about anyone. I feel panicked at the thought of leaving you alone for fear that you’ll run.”

  My fingers tweak her nipple one last time before I rehook her bra and help her back into her shirt. I adjust my painfully erect cock and help her off the table.

  “Fine, but I get to pick the lunch place.”

  I peck her lips one last time, and deliver a sharp smack to her sexy ass.

  shock1

  Ali

  I wake up, feeling something touching my nose. I bring my hand up to slap it away and encounter what feels like a hand. My eyes fly open, and I see Luke smiling down at me. Moving under the covers, I try to slink out of bed and run to the bathroom to brush my teeth, but my escape is hampered by a leg hooking around mine. I peek up at him and scowl. I’m not opening my mouth for fear of my morning breath overpowering him and causing him to pass out.

  Little kisses pepper my face, my nose, my eyelids, and the corner of my mouth. I can’t help but grin as he starts pulling the sheets down my body.

  The little kisses start working their way down my chest. I glance down to see his open mouth poised over my nipple. “Good morning, beautiful.”

  His talented mouth covers my nipple and sucks it into his mouth. My hands grab a handful of hair and my back arches.

  “Moooorrrnnniiiiinng,” I manage to moan out.

  “You awake now?”

  “Yeeessss!”

  “Good.” Then his mouth is gone, and he’s laying next to me, propped up on his side.

  I give him the stink-eye, and the bastard smiles at me.

  “If I promise to get back in bed, can I please brush my teeth?”

  “Yes.”

  Darting to the bathroom, I brush and handle my business as quickly as possible. On my way out, I’m horrified to see my moms sitting in my living room, looking guilty as hell.

  Neither are in the clothes they started the night out in, which makes me wonder what kind of trouble they got up to last night.

  “You’re cockblocking me right now.”

  “We need to talk to you…it’s an emergency,” Margo mumbles.

  “Hey, Luke, my moms are here, and I have to deal with an “emergency.”

  “Don’t you use air quotes with me, young lady.” Cleo gets up and goes into the kitchen. I’m starting to think this won’t be a normal post-Willa party conversation.

  Luke comes out of my bedroom, buttoning up his pants. He lays a kiss on me that’s so sweet, I want to melt.r />
  “Call me later for our lunch date.” Tipping his head at my moms, he greets them. “Ladies.” And he turns and exits through the front door.

  “Now, what’s so important that you felt the need to interrupt my morning?”

  “It’s your birth mother.”

  My world narrows and my vision blurs. “You told me you had no clue who she was.”

  “We lied,” they say in unison

  “You lied. What exactly did you lie about?”

  “Your mother, for lack of a better word, was a favorite of our pimp, John Trevino. May he rot in hell. Viola, that’s your mother’s name, got to stay on the main floor of the brownstone, while the rest of his girls were crammed into a tiny single bedroom on the second floor. Cleo and I both hated what we did. It was a bad situation, and something neither of us wanted. We had been looking for a way out. We thought about running, but with John taking every penny we earned, we knew we wouldn’t make it far. His reach was far and wide, from judges, cops, and politicians. Going to the authorities wasn’t an option.”

  Margo grabs Cleo’s hand. They look at each other, and Margo continues.

  “Cleo was devastated when her grandmother passed. She received a letter at a post office box that we shared. It was a blessing in disguise, because we now had money and a home in a town far away from John. We knew if we didn’t make it worth his while to let us go, he would keep coming after us, so we decided to see if we could pay him off. We gathered what little belongings we had, and the cash the executor wired us when we explained our situation to him. Then, we went to talk to John. It had been a while since we’d seen Viola, but there she was, sitting on the couch, while you were screaming like a banshee on the floor.”

  Cleo picks up the story. “John came out, yelling at her to shut you up or dump you somewhere, ’cause he was tired of listening to you cry, before he asked us what we were doing there. We told him we had a relative who passed, and that we were leaving. Your mother jumped up to grab you, but I found myself there first when I saw the angry look on her face. I picked you up and started rocking you, while Margo offered him ten grand for each of us to get out of our contracts, and that we’d take you off his hands.