[Los Angeles Bad Boys 01.0] Cold Hard Cash

by Frankie Love

  And Cassius gives me a full-on grin, the dimpled one that makes me suck in air, fast, because he seriously leaves me breathless.

  “You look divine, Evangeline.”

  I feel my cheeks redden, but I don’t look away. I only have eyes for him.

  “You look pretty good yourself.” And he does. He’s in dark jeans and a collared shirt, buttoned all the way up. His medallion is looped around his neck and he’s got rings on his fingers. His hair is slicked back. His pale eyes are like the sea: blue speckled with green, washing away any of my worries about his hardened past.

  “Wanna drive?” I ask, holding up my keys.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t drive.”

  When my eyes ask the question, he lets out a breath I didn’t know he was holding.

  “Lost my license.”

  “They can send you replacement, dork,” I tell him, tossing him the keys.

  When he tosses the keys back, I get it.

  “It was revoked.” His jaw tenses. “You sure you wanna go out with me? I’m guessing you Googled me or some shit.”

  “Did you Google me?”

  His eyes narrow. “Should I have?”

  “No,” I tell him, walking to the driver’s seat. If he knew who my dad is, he might back away from me.

  I can’t have him do that. Not before tonight ends.

  I want tonight. I need tonight. It feels like the precipice for the rest of my life.

  “Hop in, Cash Flow, and let me show you my part of LA.”

  “My part, too,” he says as he sits beside me in my Mini.

  We cruise down the freeway toward a simple restaurant on the water’s edge in Malibu. Not too swanky, not too chill—perfect for a first date. At least, I always thought that when I was a teenager and living here, wishing some guy would take me on a first date.

  Strike that. Wishing a guy who wasn’t someone whose father worked with my father would take me on a date. Those were the only dates I ever had.

  “You’re relocating to Malibu?” I ask.

  “Yeah, just decided on my drive over. After the tour with Elle, I need to start somewhere new. The cab driver convinced me this is where I should buy a house. I’ve lived in LA my whole life, but hardly ever come to the ocean. That’s fucked up.”

  “You’re letting your Uber driver decide your destiny?” I give him a sidelong glance, swallowing hard for reasons I don’t understand.

  He laces my fingers through his and my body tenses and melts at the same time. He’s a sensation overload. I don’t let go.

  “You believe in destiny?” he asks.

  I shrug. “A little heavy for a first date, isn’t it?”

  “Evangeline, I hate to break it to you, but Cash Flow is fucking deep.”

  I laugh. “Don’t dismiss yourself. You’re really talented.”

  “Says the girl from Julliard.”

  “You are talented,” I tell him as I park at the restaurant. “I watched your YouTube videos, and the truth is, you’re amazing. You’re so—”

  “Full of hot air? Fake? A product? A show?”

  “I was going to say sincere.”

  He shakes his head, jumping out of the car, and opening my door. “I am many things on stage, but I don’t think I would have said sincere. I’d describe myself as desperate.”

  “Is that a bad thing?” I ask as he places his hand on the small of my back, leads me inside.

  “Hope and fear are both borne from desperation.”

  “Who said that?” I ask.

  He smiles softly. “Me.”

  It only takes one foot in the restaurant before I know I picked all wrong. As a seventeen-year-old girl I thought this place was romantic, but now I see it’s all fake lighting and bland food, and it’s totally empty.

  I’m not even hungry.

  “Wanna walk on the beach?” I ask, turning to Cassius, who, in his smooth clothes, is as out of place here as I am.

  “I’m game for anything.”

  “It’s only ten after five. This place is dead. That’s on you,” I tell him, smiling, grabbing his hand and pulling him back outside.

  He leans down, his soft lips against my ear. “I said five because you made plans for later.”

  “So you didn’t forget a condom, that’s what you’re saying?” I ask, shocked at my unbridled flirtation. This is not the regular Evangeline. Regular Evangeline is so obedient.

  So boring.

  “I did not forget a condom.”

  “Good.” I smile. “Let’s walk to the pier and get ice cream.”

  “You’re really precious, Evie, you know that?”

  “Is being precious a good thing?

  “It’s a very good thing.”

  Cassius grabs my hand, and we start walking.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cassius

  We eat ice cream and hold hands, and the whole time I can’t keep my hands off her. And when I lean close, kiss her sweet ice cream lips, I know I have it bad for this girl.

  “So, you live in LA,” she says, “but who do you live with? Give me some details.”

  We step off the pier and slip off our shoes. I roll up my cuffs and she picks up her hem. We’re going to walk along the shore, because that’s what you do when you’re in California, and young, and ready to give into the unexpected.

  “Yeah, so I live with my brother—he’s my manager—and Gina.”

  “Who’s she?” Evangeline asks. The sun is floating over her shoulders, and when she stands with the water behind her she looks like a mermaid. An apparition. A dream.

  I must have a funny look on my face, because she stops and grabs my arm. “Please tell me you don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “I don’t. Gina and I broke up a few weeks ago.”

  “But you live with her?”

  “She hooked up with my brother before she and I broke up.”

  “What the heck? Cassius, that’s ….”

  “Fucked up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I know.”

  “But you guys are cool now?” she asks.

  We’ve made it to the edge of the strip of shore, and there’s no one here—nothing here but lazy trees and thick bushes, far from the edge of anything.

  I take a seat on a piece of driftwood in the secluded cove, and Evangeline sits beside me.

  “Not cool, exactly. It’s complicated. How do you cut ties with the only people you have?”

  She laughs, softly. Sadly. “If I knew … I already would have.”

  “Your dad?”

  “It’s like he wants me to be … less than I am and more than I am at the exact same time, and I just wonder if I can be neither. If, instead, I could just be myself.”

  “Oh, baby, you speak my language.”

  She shakes her head. “No, you may be a musician, but your language is words.”

  “And yours?”

  “Playing the piano is the only place I’ve ever really been able to be myself. I love it, I do, deep in my soul I do … but I started to play for my mom, and now it just feels like that’s the way my dad wants to control me.”

  “Pretty heavy shit for a first date,” I tease, wrapping my arm around her. Her skin is so soft, and I cradle her face with my other hand.

  I hold her, and then she’s holding me, and maybe it makes sense because it shouldn’t. Because she’s this fucking precious girl and I’m a fucking fool. But I want her. I need her.

  I know I don’t deserve her.

  “I want to hear you play,” I tell her.

  “I want to quit Julliard,” she admits, her lips inches from mine. “I stopped playing after my mom died. I hate it there. It’s cold and depressing, and not my speed. I’m not ambitious like the other students. And I know I shouldn’t unload on you—you’re a stranger. But maybe that’s why you feel so safe?”

  “I’m not safe. You know that, Evangeline. You Googled the shit out of me. I’m too messy for a girl like you.”

  “I think
you’re wrong. I think you’re exactly right for me.”

  I kiss her then—no, more like I crash into her. I scoop her into my lap, and she’s straddling me, because she fits against me in ways she shouldn’t.

  Her hands are in my hair, and my hands hold her ass, pulling her to me in a desperate, greedy way, in a way that says I’m taking you here, now. I am having my way with you.

  “Cassius,” she moans into my mouth, her tongue circling mine, as we breathe in and out, both of us finally taking in all the air we’ve been looking for all day. We find it in one another.

  No one’s here—we’re on a secluded beach—so I pick her up, with her legs twined around my waist, and I carry her around the cove, where no one can see us or find us. I drop to my knees before her, wrap my arms around her waist, inhale the sweet scent that she’s offering me.

  She pulls down her strapless dress, uncovers her tits, revealing that her body is ready for mine. Her nipples are peaked, and I reach to pull her dress completely off.

  She isn’t wearing any panties, just like she’d promised. She knew why we were going out tonight—and fuck, I love her for it.

  With her naked before me, I run my hands over her, pressing my face to her perfect mound, leaving a trail of kisses against her. I’m completely turned on by her willingness to fuck me here, now. We’re in a remote spot, but the sun hasn’t set, and the truth is, this is reckless.

  But I have a feeling that’s what she craves most of all: a chance to be completely undone. Untethered. Carefree.

  I can help her with that.

  “Cassius,” she moans. My arms wrap around her waist; her hands run over my shoulders, tugging off my shirt. “Please, don’t take too long. I want you against me, in my arms. I want you in me.”

  I unbutton my shirt, unbuckle my pants. I stand, and she runs her hand over my chest, reading the words inked across my chest: And I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinking.

  “What does this mean to you?” she asks, tracing the letters of the Bob Dylan lyrics.

  “It means as long as my head is above water, my heart’s still beating. I haven’t drowned.”

  “We’re standing on the shore right now,” she whispers, her mouth pressing against the words that mean so much to me. “We’re breathing.”

  “Yes,” I tell her, sliding off my pants. “We are very much alive.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Evangeline

  It might be a cliché, to say his cock is huge and hard and thick and ready … but it is. It so completely is. And Cassius is romantic and tender, and broken and lost. And maybe so am I. Maybe this day turned into something magical because he and I were both open and willing.

  Desperate.

  “Take me, take me now,” I whisper, my hand wrapping around his length, my pussy throbbing in desire, because this entire day has been a giant cunt-tease and I am ready.

  He lowers me to the sand and balls his shirt behind my head so I’m more comfortable, but I was already comfortable. Nothing would make this moment uneasy. I feel more relaxed than I maybe ever have.

  “You’re a dream, Evangeline. A mirage. I see you, feel you, but I don’t think you’re real.”

  “I am real. This can be real.”

  Am I saying words I need to cling to? Am I already scared of what might happen when this night ends? Am I just speaking what I want to be true?

  He rolls on a condom. His fingers find my opening, and I’m so wet—I’m dripping before we’ve even begun, because his hard, lined chest and strong arms and light eyes are telling me the story I want so badly to hear.

  That he wants me. That he craves me as badly as I crave him.

  His fingers flutter against my folds, and my eyes close, and he kisses my mouth, softly, so very softly. And I sink onto the sand as he presses himself into me.

  I wince; he whispers words I can’t hear, because all I know is what I feel, and what I feel is pure.

  I whimper beneath him; my eyes sting with tears. He fills me, presses past my virginity and goes deeper inside me, to a place I saved for him without meaning to.

  “Oh, girl, you feel so right.” He moves above me, his cock thrusting within me. I moan, taking him against my pussy walls, so tight and unforgiving.

  “Cassius,” I sigh, wrapping my arms tight around his neck, clinging for dear life as he moves against me. My core is alive, my skin on fire, my heart beating a melody I have never made before. My fingers itch to play a song I’m just learning and I rock against him, finding a beat as our bodies collide.

  An orgasm rushes over me. I want it to slow, so I can memorize each thrum, but I can’t catch it with my hands, with my heart. It’s a wave that passes through me.

  He comes in me, hard. I feel a surge of warmth on the other side of the latex barrier between us … but I know that nothing is barring me from the sensation I feel right now.

  When we come, we are one.

  Tears fill my eyes.

  And then tears are streaming down my cheeks. He’s shushing me, and I’m trying to speak, but I can’t because I’ve never felt so whole.

  “You are perfect, Evangeline,” he whispers.

  “No, you are, Cash. You absolutely are.”

  He shakes his head, kisses my nose. We smile.

  Laughter escapes my lips, laughter I did not expect.

  When we’re driving back to my house, I can’t stop smiling. We grab a pizza to go, and a bottle of wine. This night is not going to end any time soon.

  I want him to ask me back to his hotel, but he hasn’t. And I’m not going to push.

  “So,” I ask. “You say the money from this contract is going to change your life?”

  “Yeah, my mom needs my help, and I’ll give it to her. Give her anything.”

  “You guys are close, then?” My own pain from missing my mother hits my chest.

  “She isn’t exactly lucid at the moment. She was in a car crash a few months back, and had extensive brain trauma.”

  “Oh, Cassius, I’m so sorry.”

  “Me, too,” he says. “But it’s life, you know? I can sing this bullshit music if it means I can give her a second chance.”

  “You’re a good man.”

  He just shakes his head and looks at the road, looks to what’s ahead.

  Maybe looking back won’t do him any good.

  I park, and I’m surprised to see a few other cars in the driveway. I slow my Mini down as I pull in, suddenly realizing this was bad idea.

  Dad’s here, with some other people I don’t recognize. They’ve literally just pulled up moments before us, are just getting out of their own car.

  “Cassius, um—” I reach for his arm.

  “What the hell are they doing here?” Cassius asks, not looking at my father, but the two people with him.

  “That’s my dad. Marshal Kendrick.”

  He turns his head ever so slowly. Our eyes meet, confusion written everywhere.

  “Evangeline,” he breathes my name.

  I can’t say any more, because the couple in the driveway are staring at us, speaking loudly, but I can’t hear them.

  I only see Cash, crashing.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” the man asks Cassius.

  “I was with Evangeline.”

  We both get out of the car, but I do it regretfully. I wish I’d never come back here.

  The girl is staring at me—make that glaring at me—and I don’t know why I’m her problem. My problem is my father.

  “Evangeline, what in the world were you doing with Cash?” Dad asks, arms crossed.

  “Uh….” I pause. I think about Cash’s words in the car—about his mother, and money, and needing to get this one thing right. I can’t mess it up by throwing a tantrum. If I admit I was with Cash, then I know Dad will have a fit.

  Cash doesn’t need a fit, because I can already see that the guy and girl standing here are laying it on him pretty thick.

  “Evangeline, I’m speaking to yo
u. What were you doing with Cash?”

  I look at Cassius, and back to the other man, who has the same strong jaw and pale eyes. My stomach drops as I realize this is his brother Chad, his ex-girlfriend Gina. They were my father’s dinner meeting.

  Cash steps forward. “Evangeline and I met earlier today, at KMG. She was just showing me around town.”

  “With pizza and wine? Back at her place?” my dad scoffs. He’s no fool. “Cash, I thought I made it clear, no one I sign gets to sleep with my daughter. I know I said it as joke before, but I made it pretty damn clear.”

  Cash looks at me. His eyes are so penetrating, so full of everything we’ve shared. He would lay down anything for me, after just a day. He’s loyal and good—and he may think he’s a bad boy with a rough past and a bruised heart, but I know he’s more than that.

  And I also know my father is a complete asshole who will pull the rug out from anyone who wrongs him.

  “You wouldn’t mess this up, would you, Cash?” his brother asks. He is glaring now. “Because Kendrick, Gina, and I were just discussing some ways we can collaborate.”

  Cash snorts. “I bet you were, Chad.”

  Gina’s arms are crossed, her lips pursed.

  Cassius looks back at me. I can’t read his eyes anymore. How did that happen so fast? I swear, moments ago I could read his entire heart.

  I don’t want to hurt Cassius—and standing here, at my father’s house, I know being with him with only hurt his career. He may think this rap music isn’t the music he was made to play … but I heard his tracks today. When he sings he makes magic. He is magic. And I can’t get in the way of that.

  “My dad’s right,” I tell him. “This was a fun day, but it can’t be more than that.”

  Cash shakes his head. “Can I have a word with you?” he asks, but it’s not a question.

  We cross the driveway, his hand on my arm, his eyes locked on mine.

  He’s pissed.

  I know my dad, Chad, and Gina are watching us, but Cash doesn’t seem to care. And the way he’s grabbing hold of me, I know I can’t get in his way. He’s on a mission.

  He practically drags me around the garage, pins me against the siding, searching my eyes.