by Harper Sloan
“Good girl,” I rumble low against her skin, kissing the teeth marks and pink bruise my mouth left behind. “It pleases me that you listen when I tell you to do something.”
She doesn’t respond; she just tips the right side of her lip up and looks at me with lust-filled eyes.
Taking my seat, I look down at the plate before me and wonder if I could come again just from the mouthwatering aromas swirling up from the hot food.
“To a first date to remember.” She breaks the comfortable silence around us, picking up the Coke she must have brought with her and waiting for me to do the same with the one in front of me.
“And many more to follow,” I add, touching the top of her can with mine before placing it back down and picking up my fork and knife.
“Better than Mom’s,” she smarts with a wink.
“We’ll see.”
She waits while I cut into the meat, dip it in the mashed potatoes, and bring it to my mouth. I couldn’t hold back my moan if I tried because the second the flavor hits my taste buds, my mouth waters, and I close my eyes. I see her starting to cut into her own food, still smiling, but I’m incapable of talking at the moment. Not while I’m eating the best damn thing I’ve ever tasted.
“You’re right,” I mumble around the mouthful of food. “Better than your mom’s, baby.”
That damn smile just gets bigger, and she silently continues to eat.
It doesn’t take long before I’m about to lick my plate clean, but she just reaches out and places the rest of her dinner in front of me with a knowing look.
“Next time, I’ll make sure to bring more than one helping for you, honey.”
My chest warms when she calls me that, something that I just vaguely recall her using when Julie was in the room, but now that I know she wasn’t saying that for her benefit, I let the pleasure of it fill me.
“You know I didn’t want her here, right?”
She nods, taking a sip of her drink and leaning back in her seat. “I’m not upset about it. I’m just glad I was here to let her know you aren’t on the market anymore.”
I give her a sly smile before asking, “Yeah? I got myself a woman?”
One of her shoulders comes up in a shrug and she laughs softly. “We’ll see.”
Oh, we sure will, Emberlyn Locke. We sure as fuck will. Knowing I’m not sure I can last much longer without hearing her agree that I do, in fact, have a woman, I mentally give myself two weeks tops to make it happen.
“Come with me?” I request.
We had finished our dinner about an hour ago and instead of pulling her to the couch as I would have liked, I sat in my desk chair, pulled her on my lap, and swiveled the seat so we could look down at the club below.
She turns her head and looks over her shoulder at me before giving me her smile and a small nod.
I help her to her feet before climbing to my own and pulling her toward the door, down the stairs, and into the madness. The crowd parts without trouble, and I make sure she settles safely at an empty spot I found for her at the main bar before jumping over the surface and behind the counter.
I hear the sound of her laughter over the music when my feet land. I look over my shoulder with a wink before grabbing a shot and pint glass. I place them both down in front of her before reaching around and grabbing the amaretto and filling the shot glass about three-fourths full before getting the 151 proof rum and filling it the rest of the way. Then I place the now full shot inside the pint glass. I feel Dent move to my side and hand me a beer, smirking a knowing smile when he watches me fill the pint glass up until it’s level with the already full shot glass.
Her eyes follow my hand as I reach out and hold my palm up, knowing that Dent will be ready for the next step, and he doesn’t disappoint.
Both of her dark brows shoot up the second I flick the lighter and hold it to the shot glass in the center of the pint, the flame sparking instantly as the liquor burns brightly in front of her.
While it burns between us, I catch her gaze, and with one finger, I point at the brightly lit sign above me.
I had one installed at each of the bars around the club last night. Luckily, I know enough people around town that when I want something done, it’s done right away. Some sort of glowing backlight design illuminates the simple wording centered on both sides of the solid black sign.
Dirty Dog’s Pleasure Elixir :: Ember Firecracker
I watch her jaw drop, knowing without words what I mean by that display. I’m claiming her as mine for everyone to see the second they step up to any of the bars inside Dirty. Well, I’m sure the majority of people who order Ember’s drink will have no fucking clue except for those who know us personally. And honestly, it’s more about making a statement to her anyway.
One that screams I, Dirty Dog himself, only find my pleasure from my Ember.
My firecracker.
“COME ON, BAM!” I YELL across the expanse of my backyard as I wait for him to bring back the nasty, slobber-filled tennis ball that he loves more than life. I watch him frolic around; tossing his huge body up in the air before running in circles to chase whatever imaginary thing he’s found.
Giving up on getting him to come inside so I can get some cleaning done before finding something to eat for dinner, I flop down on one of my outdoor chairs and give in to the thoughts that have held my mind captive for the last week.
After the night at Dirty when I brought him dinner, I’ve been burning for him, and it had nothing to do with the drink that he had created for me. A drink that I know in my bones was his way of letting me see just how serious he is about this newly created us.
I stuck around for another hour after his grand reveal of Ember’s Firecracker, but I had a feeling that, by me being there, Nate was having a hard time focusing on what he needed to do, which was run his club. I made my excuses, even if I wanted to stick around, and after another explosive make-out session next to my car, I headed home.
That night, even with the shocking start we had with his office surprise, had been one of the best of my life. Unfortunately for us, the timing just hasn’t been on our side for the last week. Not since he has to deal with everything that comes with having the most popular club around two weeks after opening their doors.
Over the week since, we’ve been able to steal a few phone calls here and there and texts when calls weren’t a possibility, but I’ve had enough. I know he’s busy, and it had almost been a blessing since I’ve spent almost eighteen hours a day working nonstop on A Beautiful War. I never dreamed a painting that scale would only take a little over two weeks, but if I keep up my pace, I’ll be finished middle of next week. Just over a week before my show.
This afternoon, though, I hit my breaking point. All those calls and texts were officially not enough. I’m desperate to see him face-to-face. To feel his arms around me again and his lips against mine. Which is probably why I currently feel nothing but pent-up sexual frustration and eagerness for him to return my text … or plea, rather.
I bend forward to reach behind me to pull my phone from my back pocket and check it—again—to see if Nate had texted back, but not before seeing the message that I sent him an hour ago. My desperation for him had hit a peak so high I thought I needed to take a break with my vibrator.
Ember: Come over when you’re done at Dirty. I need you. No matter the time. Key is under the mat.
Would he think I was crazy? Probably not. Would he come? Probably. Would he wonder what I’m really asking for? Absolutely.
“Come on, Bam. Time to get your tail inside.” I laugh when he leaps again, this time chasing after a bug.
He turns, his tongue wagging, as he runs toward me.
When I open the back door, he charges into the house, and I hear him rushing into the kitchen seconds before he greedily starts lapping up his water.
Just when I shut and lock the back door, my phone vibrates in my hand, causing my heart to pick up speed. When I look and see Nikki’s name on
the screen, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, you. White or red?” she oddly asks.
“Uh, white or red, what?”
“Wine, Ember. Really? We skip a few wine nights, and it’s like you forgot what we do once a week.”
“It’s Tuesday.” At least, I’m pretty sure it’s Tuesday. The downside to not having a conventional job is that time has no meaning most days.
“Oh,” she murmurs. “Really?”
“I’m pretty sure. At least, that’s what my planner said this morning when I was checking my deadline for the last piece I need to get over to Annabelle at the gallery.”
“Well, son of a Bieber,” she complains. “Well, we might as well just have wine night anyway. I’m in desperate need of it since I’ve been two seconds away from killing Seth since last week.”
I laugh, not surprised that they’ve been fighting … they’re always fighting. And honestly, she isn’t the only one who is in the mood for a much-needed wine night with her best friend.
“How about get one of each and we will just play it by ear. I could use a good night of relaxing with a glass.”
“Or ten,” she mumbles.
“I wouldn’t go that far.” I snicker. “I’ll start dinner in an hour, so come over whenever.”
“’Kay. Love ya, bye!”
“So did he ever text you back?” Nikki all but wheezes, her eyes wide as her mouth hangs open with shocked anticipation.
I had just finished catching her up on everything that’s going on between Nate and me. Needless to say, she’s been about to fall off the couch with every word I’ve spoken.
“Nothing, which is weird for him. Even when he’s been busy, he doesn’t usually take this long to respond to me.”
She nods her head but doesn’t speak.
“Should I try again?” I ask, taking another sip of the nasty red she picked out.
“Nope. No way. Don’t look desperate.”
“I am desperate!”
“No, you aren’t. You’re horny.”
“And that’s different?”
“Sure, it is,” she muses. “You want some of his dick, which I bet is huge if I’m being honest right now. But I digress; you’re horny for what he can give you, not desperate in the sense that you’re going to die if it doesn’t happen right this second. Plus, judging by what you’ve told me, I think you still have some doubts about his motives, which is stupid as hell.”
I turn my head from where I had been looking out the front window, staring mindlessly into the dark night, and narrow my eyes at her.
“And you think I shouldn’t?”
“I didn’t say that. You’ve been hung up on that for a while now, so it makes sense you have reservations, but now that I’ve heard his side of things, I think it’s time to at least take his advice and try to put the past in the past to stay. He makes a good point; the longer you hang on to that pain—remembering how much it hurt—you feed it the fuel it needs to grow bigger. Also, you were just out of high school, Em. Then and now are like night and day. I’m not saying you should just jump in head first without thought, but I don’t think he would even be pursuing anything if he wasn’t serious about you.”
I mull over her words before responding. “You’re right,” I agree with a sigh of acceptance. “But we’ve had one, technically two, dates. If you call them that. How can I know he’s serious in that short period of time? What if he finds something about me that he doesn’t like? Hell, we haven’t even done anything past kissing. He might not like what he gets if we take it past that. He’s a lot more experienced than I am, and every time I’ve been with a guy, there wasn’t even a spark, let alone fireworks. He could figure out on the next date that I’m not worth the trouble or risks.”
She snorts, almost spilling her drink. “Yeah, no. First of all, you have known him your whole life. I doubt he’s going to find something he doesn’t like about you. Knowing someone that long means you know all their faults and just choose to look past them. Second of all,” she continues, jabbing the air with her finger. “How does every other happily committed couple know anything after two dates? They don’t, I’ll tell you! They just take a chance and enjoy the hell out of it. You can’t rush that. THIRD!” she screams, again stabbing the air between us. “You got Fourth of July-worthy fireworks from a kiss, Ember. You don’t have those kinds of sparks only to find out that sex gives you something like a sparkler.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Nikki is on a roll because before I can open my mouth, she jumps from her seat and throws her hands up in the air.
“AND! Let me tell you something, missy! He told you what ‘risks’ were holding him back before. Risks that I might add he is finding no trouble accepting are worth it to take now. He knows how close you are with your sister. He also knows Maddi can’t hold a secret to save her life. The second he made that play, he was accepting those risks with the confidence that he wanted to make that trouble worth it when y’all’s relationship went further.”
She lifts her wine glass and downs the contents of the half-full glass before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Only then does she flop down on the couch and lean her head back with a sigh.
“Ohhhkay,” I droll, my heart pounding as her words take root and the understanding and acceptance blooms.
Her head rolls on the back of the couch, and she narrows one eye at me, looking ridiculous instead of intimidating. “You know I’m right. But I also know that you overthink everything. It’s time to stop that shit. If you need a little more time, then take it, but don’t question him or his motives until he gives you a reason to. A current reason to, I should add. Forget the rest of it and just give him a chance.”
“You’re right,” I begin, but I’m forced to stop talking when her finger hits my lips to silence me.
“Of course, I am. And now that you’ve listened to reason, I think you should sleep with him and get that silly thought it won’t be explosive out of your head. Since you’ve already established you’re horny for his dick AND you know damn well that you’re holding on to your crazy excuses about his motives as a shield of protection, drop it and be the one willing to take risks this time.”
“You don’t think it’s too soon?” I wonder out loud; it’s something that’s been on the back of my mind since I did just get out of a relationship, even if that relationship had been very short-lived.
“Too soon?” She snorts and starts to cackle loudly, slapping my thigh as she cracks herself up. “You’ve been in love with the guy for forever. You’ve known him forever and you’ve been dreaming of having him—in every way possible—FOREVER. Too soon? More like it’s about time!”
I roll my eyes.
“Don’t be a brat. You know I’m right … again. If he doesn’t text you back today, call him tomorrow or go see him at Dirty. Make the move. No one says you have to wait on him to do it.”
“Okay. You’re right,” I say with a slight shake to my voice. I take another sip. “If he doesn’t text me by tomorrow night, I’m going to him.”
“That’s my girl!” she screams, and we both start giggling.
God, I love my best friend.
I DRAG MY FEET AFTER softly closing my truck door and try to keep my eyes open. I’ve been on my last ounce of energy for the last two days, not that I’m complaining, but things have been so busy at Dirty that I hardly had time to even eat. Not to mention, I’ve been spending every second either at Dirty or passed out after I finally manage to drag myself home. Now that things are starting to move along, I’m confident that Shane is ready to handle the nightly operations himself, especially since we’ve already promoted Denton to give Shane the coverage he needs to have time off himself. I can’t fucking wait to be able to go in during daylight hours to handle office shit and only have to stay a few hours at night.
If it hadn’t been for a text earlier from a certain woman that has plagued my every though
t for a week, I might have passed out behind the bar hours ago.
I need you, she had said. Well, she had said a bunch of other shit too, but nothing stood out more to me than seeing her say she needed me.
Those three words had lit a fire under my ass, and I had been busting tail in order to get out of there before closing. Thankfully, Shane was there to close because if I had to wait a second longer, I was going to come out of my skin.
I lift the mat in front of the door, and sure enough, a shiny silver key catches the moonlight. I snatch it up with the mental note to spank her ass for leaving a key there. She might as well put a big neon sign telling every lowlife motherfucker to come on in.
I enter the house silently, only briefly looking at the woman sprawled half on and half off the couch, the TV muted as some late-night infomercial plays on the screen. Nikki looks about as uncomfortable as can be, but judging by the drool pooling under her cheek, the girl is out cold.
Bam meets me at the mouth of the hallway, but after a sniff, he walks over to where Nikki is now snoring and climbs on top of her. Well, on top of the one leg that is still on the couch, but she doesn’t even flinch when his head drops onto her ass.
Weird girl.
My booted feet are silent as I make my way down the hallway toward the doorway that is open at the end. When I step into Ember’s room, I’m confused for a second since her bed isn’t where I know it used to be. The same place it was when all the guys in our little family—at the demand of her dad—helped move her stuff in here two years ago. Looking away from that spot, I see it now on the opposing wall. The moonlight doesn’t touch the bundle in the middle of the mattress, but I can see clear enough and what I see makes my mouth water and dick twitch.
