by T. L Smith
“Fine, I’ll come...” I finally conceded and was rewarded with gleaming smiles. “For a little bit at least,” I added. “Then I’m leaving.”
Turning, I started for the door when Hawk’s husky voice caused that familiar pang between my legs.
“She’ll come all right...”
Slate laughed but again was none the wiser with the insinuation. I, however, heard it loud and clear and almost needed the door for balance.
That man was a menace.
A delicious, uncontrolled menace.
MY PHONE HADN’T STOPPED ringing.
Slate had sent me five messages since I’d been home demanding to know what was taking so long. He expected me at the party as soon as I left work. Of course, he would. Typical man.
Granted, I was last to leave the building, but before I made any sort of appearance, I needed a hot shower to resist the ever so tempting urge to crawl into bed.
Staring with a sudden distaste to the beautiful yet currently offensive dress on the bed, I was about to pick up my phone and call in my absence when I heard a knock at the front door, followed by someone yelling my name.
I froze, hoping if I remained still, they’d go away and leave me in peace.
No such luck.
Again, there was a thump at the door, and this time I could make out the voice yelling my name.
Damn you, Slate!
He knew my game.
Sighing heavily, I pulled on my dressing gown and walked down the hall.
Goodbye bed.
Goodbye soft pillows.
See you later dreams.
Walking to the door, I pulled it open to a very smiling Slate.
“I’ve come to drive you.”
Could I flip him the bird and slam the door in his face? Probably not, so I turned, walking back to my room.
“Five minutes, Britta, we’re already late as it is.”
Closing the door, I dropped the gown and slipped my little dress on then fixed my hair before walking back out to Slate who was looking down at his phone.
“Is it a small one?” I asked, referring to the party. He lifted his face up, his eyebrow raising, then a smirk appeared on his lips.
“Do we do anything small?”
I should have known the answer to my question.
“I’m not staying long, I’ll Uber it home.”
He shook his head as we walked out.
“Crash in the spare room,” he replied.
I ignored him, wanting to walk back to my bed already before we’d even left.
Chapter 4
Hawk
The same crowd was here. A group of men who’d grown up together through college and partied hard as fraternity brothers. Now they were all working various jobs, as hotshot lawyers, businessmen, or thinking of ways to revolutionize their family business.
And among them were an equal number of women, some from the same Sorority house, others newly acquired through business relationships. The party was in full swing, and Britta was nowhere to be seen. In fact, neither was Slate.
The host was Jarod Thickle, a former frat brother, who still lived the bachelor life, but in his loft overlooking the better half of New York. Jarod worked at his father’s law firm, yet his partying lifestyle would always prevent him from making partner or being equal share in the family business. He took his father’s disappointment and vented through partying, too stupid to realize the vicious cycle.
Stupid or not, he put on a good party.
“Hawk Carnage?” came an unfamiliar voice. “Is that you?”
I turned away from the city view off the balcony and faced a woman who stood to stare wide-eyed at me. She was tall and leggy but a good head shorter than me. With her curves and red hair, she reminded me of the Jessica Rabbit sort. Sultry and fully flirtatious. The good-time girl who’d been every man’s fantasy, but certainly not marriage material. She had high cheekbones and Angelina Jolie lips, and as she talked she knew men would be thinking about them. She was the type of woman I’d both like to bed and avoid. She also seemed slightly excited to stumble upon me.
“Yes,” I confirmed. Before I had the chance to ask her name, although it seemed I should have remembered, the strange woman continued, “I haven’t seen you in forever, stranger.”
“I know, it’s been a while,” I replied, still drawing a blank.
Her sultry eyes cast a languid glance down the length of my body before meeting my gaze once more. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she said, taking a step closer, a well-manicured hand resting on my arm. “And I see you’ve been working out.”
“Always.”
“I’ve just bought a new apartment a few blocks away. Perhaps I can show it to you later?”
As her hand slid over my chest, I saw a flash of color that belonged to someone else. I moved to look past a group of people in the way, mystery woman following my gaze.
“Or...” she continued hoping to gain my attention, “... we could find a quiet spot here.”
And there it was again, the flash of color before her face came into view.
There, inside the loft, having just arrived and looking unimpressed, was Britta Valentino.
We locked eyes, and she bit her lip.
Damn her.
“Excuse me,” I said, gently removing the woman’s hand.
Her perfect pout widened in shock at the abrupt dismissal.
Crossing the patio, I walked inside, fielding off those wanting conversation. I was only ten steps away when Jarod Thickle approached Britta from behind, startling her. She looked at me, then back at him, his arm wrapping around her waist before pulling her into the dense crowd.
One minute she was there, the next gone.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
A hand clutched mine, and I turned to see the mystery woman with her sculptured furrowed brows.
“I don’t—”
“Perhaps this will make you remember.”
She clutched my face, stood on her toes and pulled me into a kiss. Although she was a great kisser, it certainly wasn’t ringing any familiar bells. Wrapping my fingers around her tiny wrists, I pulled her hands free.
“I’m sorry,” I said, before once more leaving her side. She was the type not used to rejection. In fact, most would call me insane for walking away.
Wading through the crowd which was now starting to become loose as the tequila shots were passed around every fifteen minutes, I went in search of Britta who had seemingly vanished.
A familiar voice sounded over the music, and I cut a path to Slate who was holding the attention of eight sets of ears as he retold a story. Slate was a natural-born storyteller because he loved being around people. It was where he thrived. Me, on the other hand, gave no fucks about anyone except for those I called family. And he just happened to be one of them.
His attentive crowd broke into hysterics at the joke I just missed, and then they each raised their red cups in cheers. Gripping his upper arm, I pulled him to the side. Slate was still smiling, but when he saw my face, he quickly grew serious.
“What’s up, bro?”
“Did you see where Britta went?”
“No, we parted ways as soon as we walked through the door. She better not have left already.”
“She hasn’t left, she’s with Jarod Thickle.” Even saying his name made me sick at the thought. Jarod was in our circle. He was liked by some and tolerated by many. Jarod still had the mindset of a horny teenage boy who didn’t give a shit who he hurt. He trash-talked women thinking it’d boost his street cred. He’d reveal intimate details about their bodies, and follow it with a laugh none of us saw funny. Seeing him zero in on Britta caused my blood to boil. He knew better than to mess with someone in the circle.
“Jarod?”
“Do you see the issue?”
“He wouldn’t be so stupid.” Slate shrugged his shoulders, always seeing the best in people. I was the complete opposite. “He’s probably just being a good host. But hey, on an in
teresting note, the redhead—”
Leaving Slate, I pushed through the crowds and headed directly down the hall to the bedrooms.
Pushing the first door open, I saw nothing, but then her soft giggle filtered down the hall and all I had to do was follow. She was leading me straight to her without even trying. I pushed the door open a little harder than intended, and all eyes went to me, including Britta’s older brother, Brock, who was on his phone but had ceased his conversation to look at me.
Brock rarely attended these types of parties, being married with kids. On the bed sat Jarod, who was too close to Britta for comfort, their thighs touching. He nodded his head, eyes narrowed with some warning, and then turned back to Britta, unwilling to lose the traction he’d made. While he chose to ignore my presence, Britta was finding it hard to do so. Her eyes were locked on mine, unsure on how to read me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, she even made a discreet effort to break contact with Jarod. When she moved, so did he, bridging the gap. His persistence, and knowing his dirty history, had my fists clenching at my sides. I’d be damned if I let him sink his filthy teeth into her.
“Hawk!” My attention was pulled to Brock who placed his cell in his pocket, a wide smile across his face. I hadn’t seen him for quite some time. It was Slate who I now seemed to see the most, considering he was always at the office to see his sister.
Brock walked over and shook my hand, with a pat on the back. “Good to see you, bro,” he said, walking through the door expecting me to follow. I didn’t. Instead, I watched Britta who was still staring at me.
“Slate wants you, Brit.” It was a lie, and she knew it.
She shook her head and turned back to Jarod. “I’ll be down when I’m ready,” was all she said in response. I saw a smirk on Jarod’s face, and I wanted to literally punch it right off.
Brock slapped my back and pulled me slightly out the door.
“She’s smarter than you think,” he started. “I wouldn’t worry about Jarod. But I’d have to be an idiot not to see the way you two watch each other.”
“What shit are you talking?” I asked with my jaw clenched as I walked back down the hall.
“No one here is blind, bro. Well, maybe you and Britta.”
“Then you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Right!” He laughed, knowing he wasn’t going to get through to me. “I’ll grab us a few drinks, and we’ll catch up outside.” Brock darted off into the crowd, and his words played over in my mind. That and the niggling reality of Britta still behind closed doors with Jarod.
I walked through the party-goers, the music thumping and booze flowing. I needed a good fucking drink before I did anything I’d regret. And so I could forget how her red lips tonight looked so fucking kissable.
Chapter 5
Britta
His mouth was moving, but I didn’t hear a word, my thoughts still on the wrathful face of Hawk. There had been fury in his eyes, and I was sure some of it was directed at me. Jarod continued talking, his hand resting on my bare thigh, his thumb working rhythmic circles, no doubt to lull me into a false sense of comfort.
Hawk!
What was Jarod saying?
Shaking my head slightly to bring myself back to the present, I caught the tail-end of what Jarod had been jabbering on about.
“... see each other more. You know, we could...”
Fuck! How was I going to deal with Hawk? He wasn’t exactly the easiest man to deal with. His broody moods rivaled ten females all PMS-ing in the one room. He had a temper, and when he was passionate about something he wouldn’t rest unless he had his way.
It was sexy.
Hawk was an alpha in every way, and he scared the fuck out of me in the most delightful way.
“... always had a thing for you, and I think...”
I can honestly say I’d never seen him so mad, undoubtedly there was more to it than just me talking to Jarod.
“... incredibly sexy, Brit—” Jarod’s elbow gently nudged me in the ribs.
“Huh?” I asked, guilt riddled my face.
“So what do you think?”
“What do I think about what?”
Jarod smiled, but behind the smile was irritation and impatience. “I was saying how incredibly sexy you look in that dress, and how about we take the time to get to know each other a bit more. Like, now.”
I couldn’t be more repulsed.
None of what he was saying was going to become a reality. I knew all about him. Every single, dirty little detail and unless I planned on welcoming a sexual disease in my life, I would never touch Jarod. He was a nice guy when you were pretending to be just one of the guys, but now I could see he was being the sleazy guy he’d painted himself to be.
And did he forget I had older brothers who’d use his head as a punching bag if they knew his true intentions?
Jarod had been the first I was warned about.
Hawk, the second.
Yes, the warning about Jarod was different to Hawk.
Jarod was dirty and sleazy and cared little for his conquest’s feelings when he slandered their name and shared their intimate photos. For a lawyer, he wasn’t the smartest, and one day when he found a woman strong enough to wage battle with him, he wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.
Hawk was a warning all on his own. While he’d basically been in the family for years, and he was loved and adored by all the Valentinos, my brothers also, in a strange sense, feared him. Hawk was powerful in everything he did. His temper was quick to rise, and if you were stupid enough to be on the receiving end of it, you’d feel the full brunt of his wrath. He was also the most loving. He gave himself entirely and was loyal in every way.
His intensity was frightening, and for that reason, my brothers had warned me to keep it strictly business. Hawk had always been in my line of sight, but after things came to a brutal ending with Roman, his presence was accompanied by a string of emotions I wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. Now, I noticed everything the man did. The way he walked, how he tapped his index finger on the table when he was lost in thought, the way he bit the side of his bottom lip when he watched me talk, and especially the way the vein in his neck twitched when he was mad. Just like I’d seen only moments ago when Hawk was standing at the door watching this very interaction.
Maybe I’d been paying more attention than I first thought.
Damn it!
But it wasn’t something I could ever act on.
The intense lust for him was my dirty little secret. I’d learned to suffer quietly through the hot summers when he’d be mostly shirtless, tanned and ripped.
But that was then, and right now I was horny.
Not for Jarod, who was still fawning away at me with high expectations.
I needed to get laid, and laid by someone who was not the douchebag next to me or my boss. I wasn’t quite ready to lose my career just yet, and besides, Hawk was in hot demand. He worked with gorgeous lingerie-wearing models every day, who would drop to their knees with just a wink. That was the control Hawk had over people. Not that I’d ever seen him do that, but judging by the doe-eyed girls, they’d do just about anything to get in his pants.
Maybe Slate was right after all. I needed to find someone who could service me, or just plain straight out fuck me into happiness.
Is that even a thing? I needed to make that a thing because Roman was a complete dud and now when in reflection, he had no idea how to pleasure a woman and had no desire to see me fulfilled. What he didn’t know was, I’d mastered my own pleasure to make up for what he lacked. That’s what had gotten me through all these years.
“... and I’m sure your brothers would be stoked to know—”
“I’m... I’m going,” I said, breaking free and interrupting Jarod from his speech while feeling all hot and bothered. He tried to reach for my hand again, but I pulled away. “I’m going to go and get a drink and some fresh air, I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.”
“Just stay for a little wh
ile longer so we can talk,” he said, still determined to get his way with smooth talking.
It wasn’t working.
I wasn’t a pushover no matter how horny I was.
I leaned down, so we were face to face, excitement glimmering from his eyes.
“You do know I know who you are, right, Jarod? I know all about your sexcapades and how you trash talk all the women you bed. If you even think there could have ever been anything between us, then you’re sorely mistaken. People talk, and I’m a great listener.”
The sparkle in his eyes quickly diminished when he realized his game was up.
“So why did Brock not say anything earlier if I’m so bad?”
“Because he knows I can handle myself.”
And with that, I turned on my heel and headed out the door, leaving a stunned and somewhat butt-hurt Jarod to lick his wounds.
Taking to the stairs, I hoped I didn’t see Hawk kissing the fiery redhead again. She was exactly his type though, model material with massive boobs and an overly flirtatious nature. I didn’t excel at flirting, and if they offered lessons in it, I would probably attend.
It could quite possibly be why I was still single.
“I’m glad I didn’t have to come get you.” Brock’s voice stopped me as I reached the bottom of the stairs. I turned to my brother—tall, dark and handsome, dressed in Italian clothes, he was certainly eye-catching.
“I can look after myself,” I replied, leaning against the railing and looking down at the party guests. “I know better than to get mixed up with Jarod.”
He joined my side. “Hawk didn’t seem to think so.”
“Oh, my goodness! What would he know?” I folded my hands over my chest and Brock raised his in defense. “He comes with his own warning.”
“That’s because you don’t know him like we do, Brit.”
“That’s not true, I know him just as well.”
“Hawk’s a great guy, I’m not gonna deny that. But he’s intense.”
“I think you forget I work for him. I know exactly how hard Hawk can be.”
Brock grimaced. “I’m gonna forget I heard that.”
