Summer Breeze Kisses

by Addison Moore

  Scarlett openly grunts at the idea.

  “I’m good. But I’m in. Any night that ends with a beautiful naked woman dancing in front of me is a good one in my book.”

  Scarlett grunts again as if I’ve openly offended her, and I can’t help but give a dirty grin. A part of me likes offending Scarlett. It’s as if a part of me lives to do it. And that grunting—a visual of her lying beneath me as I pound into her tight little body flashes through my mind.

  Our small crowd dispenses as everyone figures out who’s going with whom, and I step over to Scarlett. Her hair is wild in the wind. There’s something about her presence tonight that looks supernatural, and not only are my boxers ticking in approval but the rest of me is spellbound.

  “You need a ride?” I offer up a sheepish grin. Things got a little raunchy last night with those texts. If I remember correctly, I promised to invade her tonsils the next time we were near our respective parents. That was pretty ballsy of me, but, then again, judging by how fast my heart is racing it’ll be pretty ballsy for me to initiate the maneuver as well. I squint into her as if now were the perfect moment to initiate such a move, and her face heats oven red. A dull laugh brews deep inside me. There’s something about making her sweat that I do enjoy on a primal level, probably the asshole in me.

  “I’m driving,” she snips. That snarl clues me in on the fact she’s probably read my dirty grunting mind.

  I glance down at her feet, bound and gagged, in a pair of sky-high heels. They both look perfectly functional as I assume they were last night.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Her mouth opens to say something, and her friends shuttle her out the door.

  “Come on, dude.” Jet slaps his hand over my back. “You can tell us all about it on the way over.”

  We hop into Owen’s truck with Jet in the backseat.

  “So, what’s up with you and Kent?” Owen asks as he waves the girls to pass us up.

  “This August she’ll be my shiny new stepsister. It looks like my mother is off to the races again. Once she gets her mind set on something, there’s no stopping her.”

  Owen squints into the road. “Piper says Scarlett’s the same way. She mentioned she’s not thrilled her dad is getting hitched—something about desperately wanting to stop the wedding. You’re not taking any part in this, are you?”

  “Nope.” I think on it a moment. “Okay, so maybe a little. She’s concocted some scheme to make them believe we’re dating. She thinks that might be off-putting enough to toss a monkey wrench into any wedding plans they have.”

  “Is it working?” Owen glances over, amused.

  “A little. My mother told me to knock it the hell off, and so did her dad. She wants to give it another go later this week when we all get together for a big family sit-down.”

  “Dude,” Jet groans from the back. “Leave your mother the hell alone. If she’s happy, let her be. I know your parents have had a bad ride, and I know you and every other six-year-old with divorced parents wants them back together so you can all go back to Chuck E. Cheese’s as one big happy fam, but she’s cast her lot, and it’s not with your dad. Your mom is a grown woman. And you’re a grown ass man. You let her worry about who she’s going to lay down next to at night, and I suggest you find someone to lay next to yourself.”

  “He’s right.” Owen looks baffled by this. “Have a heart-to-heart with your mom and let her know how you feel. Get it all out there and move on. You can’t force your parents together, and Scarlett shouldn’t be trying to break them up either. I’ll have Piper talk some sense into her.”

  “No, let me.” Deep down, I know they’re right, thinking with level heads and open hearts, but for some reason, some very juvenile reason, a part of me wants to side with Scarlett on this. “I’ll let it go for another week.” My lips twitch with the hint of a smile.

  “No,” Owen says it sharp like a threat. “No damn way. You mess with my girl’s best friend, and you’ll have Piper to deal with. It won’t be pretty. I’d hide the boys if I were you.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about it,” Jet grumbles from the back. “I saw him talking to her tonight, more so the way he was looking at her. This dude’s not messing around. He’s sunk.”

  Owen nods in agreement. “He’s falling hard. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

  Jet and Owen share a laugh as we slide into the parking lot just outside the brick building that houses all of those dancing naked women. They file out, and I sit there a moment. I’m not sunk. And sunk over Scarlett Kent? No way, no how.

  My gut grinds as if to contest the thought. I groan as I spot her getting out of the car from across the street, and my heart lets out an atomic boom.

  Crap. I shake myself out of this ridiculous stupor.

  Nope, still not sunk.

  Inside, Stilettos reeks of old cigarettes and booze. A slight perfumed breeze crosses our path as we’re led into the dimly lit great room that houses a runway lit up with florescent lights. Six girls line the length of it, swaying their hips to the slow music, teasing the crowd by touching their shorts as if threatening to take them off. Rows and rows of wasted guys patronize the frontlines. Owen, Jet, and I join the girls in a huge lounge area in the middle of the club.

  “Welcome!” Baya shouts while holding a plastic bullhorn to her lips. Next to her are the brides-to-be as their T-shirts and wedding veils draped over the back of their heads suggest. A few other women are with them, all knocking back fruity colored drinks. I’m still not sure why they’d opt to come to a strip club of the female variety, but if I were the groom, I’d be pretty glad they didn’t opt for the male revue.

  Baya stands and knocks her drink with another glass to get our attention.

  “I want to thank everyone for coming! As everyone knows, our good friends, Marley and Annie, didn’t want to offend their future mates by heading across the street, so we settled on a wild night at this fantastic female-laden establishment. What they don’t know is that Laney, Izzy, and I have made provisions for a little penile surprise.” A few of the girls cackle up a storm, but the brides-to-be sit shell-shocked by the news. “I hope you’re hungry because there’s going to be inches and inches of beefcake tonight!”

  The girls all break out into wild screams—Scarlett being one of them. She lands in the seat next to mine with Owen and Piper next to her. Their friend, Daisy, seems to have done a disappearing act while the rest of the girls watch the stage with listless enthusiasm down at the other end of the table.

  “Beefcake, huh?” Piper leans her shoulder into Owen’s. “You’re not reprising your role as stud extraordinaire, are you?”

  “Nope. I’ve passed my crown down to Jet and Rex.”

  Scarlett lets out a cutting laugh. “So, are you two the all male revue for the evening?” She looks to me when she says it and ironically when she laughed, too.

  Jet leans in. “Sweetheart, if you ever want to see what’s under these clothes, I can arrange a private show.”

  I shoot Jet a look that lets him know his balls are in peril for even suggesting it.

  The music picks up with a quicker beat, and the lights go on and off in a pink rainbow of colors as the announcer takes the stage.

  “Dude”—Jet socks me in the arm and leans in to whisper—“you’re into her. That pissed-off look on your face affirms it. Make something happen.”

  I glance back at Scarlett to find both her and Piper whispering between themselves.

  “She’s practically my sister. I don’t know. It’d be weird.” I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having some kind of feelings toward her, mostly irritation at this point. “We’re just friends. She came over last night, and we hung out.” I shrug.

  “She did?” His brows hook into his forehead. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing really. She’s a cool chick. We ate donuts and watched a dick flick.”

  “Dude.” Jet blinks at me, amused by the confession. “Did you just say
she flicked your dick?”

  “What?” I glance back to Scarlett to make sure she’s not listening. “No. No dick flicking took place. It was totally innocent.” Those late night texts where I threatened her with my tongue come back to haunt me. The lights cut out to just about nothing. Scarlett glows like an angel, pale, candescent like some ethereal being who is clearly out of place in this den of disgrace.

  The announcer steps out into the limelight, a roided out, heavily tanned gym rat of a man with arms like meathooks and fingers like bananas.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest talent here this evening. Gracing us with their presence from the Dungeon”—the girls in the crowd scream their heads off, and both brides-to-be drop their faces into their hands—“Rocky Silver and the Stud Hammers!” The crowd goes ballistic as three beefy males strut down the long tongue of the stage. They’re all still perfectly gift wrapped in breakaway pants and torn-up T-shirts. I turn to Jet and shake my head. Figures. We head to a strip club and end up watching dudes on display.

  “I’ll need a couple of volunteers for the evening,” the guy in the middle burps out at the crowd, and our end of the room lights up like a firecracker display. The brides-to-be outright refuse to take part in the sexual debauchery, so Piper hauls Scarlett and Cassidy up on stage with her.

  My chest lets out a few hefty wallops as Scarlett struts those long pale stems in the direction of Rocky Silver himself, the brick house in the middle, I’m assuming. Her hair shines down her back like crushed rubies, her short skirt does its damnedest to show off her best assets, those creamy thighs, and my gut wrenches as the guys in the peanut gallery start whooping it up again. Piper and Cassidy end up with the guys in the back, and as the music starts up, the dudes begin swaying their hips into the girls. Rocky takes his meaty paws and places Scarlett’s hands over his chest, using her to help rip off his already shredded T-shirt, and I smirk. Greasy jackass.

  They amp up their routine, strutting around the girls as if laying claim to them, and once the crescendo hits, they whip off their pants, revealing a hammock cradling their manhood. They’re oiled from head to shiny toe, and the girls laugh and sway to the music while the dudes continue to grind up against them.

  Jet takes a picture of Cassidy and the douche she’s with and shoots it to Cade. “Just letting him know she’s safe with us.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  A few of the patrons try to get the girls’ attention by waving dollars at them, and since Scarlett is so close to the edge of the stage—no thanks to Rocky and the miniature junk in his trunk needing all of the damn attention—they’re grazing her ankles with bills.

  I hop up and head over, just making sure no one falls off the stage and lands on an inebriated idiot. Cade isn’t here, and I know he’d do the same. The last thing I want is Scarlett impaling herself on some drunk idiot who’s looking to cop a feel.

  Owen pops up on my side as the stage routine drones on forever.

  “You need a better look at the big boys, darlin’?” He crosses his arms, glaring at the dude grinding up against Piper. “I know these assholes.” He shoots the one manhandling Scarlett a thumbs-up.

  “Come on, sweetie!” An inebriated jackass next to me tries to swipe at Scarlett’s ankle and nearly catches her heel.

  I shove my hand in his chest without thinking twice. “Listen, shithead, you’re going to land her on the floor if you do that. She’s not a part of the show. Chill out, man.”

  His buddy jumps up and sits at the foot of the stage, his eyes crossing as he gets a good look up her skirt, and I lunge to get him the hell away. But in an effort to deflect me, he leans back, sending Scarlett flying. I’ve caught every pass ever thrown my way at Whitney Briggs. When it really counts, I haven’t dropped a single thing. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Scarlett touch the floor.

  Scarlett lands with a hearty thud right into my arms just as I fall back and knock the entire front row right out of their stools like dominos.

  Her chest rises and falls just as hard as mine. Her face is piqued bright pink, making those lime green eyes of hers shine like sirens.

  “You okay?”

  Her brows do a little dance that looks so cute it makes my stomach knife with pain. “I’m fine.”

  “You want to blow this place?” I may not have a car, but I know she drove. I’d leave with her if she wanted me to.

  “I’d love to, but it just so happens that my roommate is in the next act.” She wrinkles her nose, looking cute as hell, and the growing problem in my boxers starts to rise in her honor. “I sort of have to stay.”

  “Daisy?” I glance to the stage as the men trot off, leaving a greasy trail in their wake.

  “It’s sort of her thing. Nothing nude. Just enough shaking of the hips to pay her bills.” Scarlett struggles to stand as I land her on her feet. “You mind getting me back to safety?”

  “Sure thing.” I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and her soft hair touches over my skin like a fire as we make our way back to the table. Owen and the other two girls fall into their seats, laughing like there’s no tomorrow.

  The lights go crazy, and Cassidy claps, getting the table’s attention. “My sister, Caila Jace, is up next! And my bestie is with her!”

  The music starts in nice and cheesy, a porno preview if I’ve ever heard one, and true to Cassidy’s word, a girl who looks just like her struts out in heels a foot high. Cade mentioned Cassidy had a twin who worked here, and up until this moment I forgot that tidbit. The fact Caila Jace is identical to Cassidy makes me squirm a little in my seat.

  Scarlett leans in. “Yes, they’re identical. You’re practically going to see your best bud’s girlfriend naked. I bet that’s not what you thought you were signing up for.” A satisfied smirk takes over as she blinks into me.

  “Nope.” I give a wistful smile. “Didn’t plan on seeing your red lace panties either, but that sort of happened, too.” It’s true. I caught a glimpse as I dove for the lunatic trying to take her down.

  “Oh crap!” She slaps me over the chest, and I catch her hand.

  For whatever reason, the music, the screaming crowd, the glowing cocktails that dot the vicinity like candles all seem to melt into one big warble of white noise, and it’s just Scarlett and I, her hand in mine, her arms lying over my chest even if it is in an effort to beat the crap out of me. But something in me warms at the thought of her here with me, our skin touching, those violent four leaf clover eyes bearing hard into mine.

  “Oh crap,” I parrot in a whisper. Jet and Owen are right. I’m falling hard for Scarlett Kent, and I didn’t see it coming.

  The girls on stage do their thing, and soon enough, Cassidy’s lookalike is taking it off, shaking the girls for all to see. Cade would be blind with rage if he could hear half of the guys in here. The girls at our table cheer as Daisy hops and skips to the music in the background, thankfully with her top on or I’d have a hard time facing her at school. But I’m not too entranced with what’s happening up on stage. I’m too busy feeling the heat sizzle from Scarlett’s leg to mine, her shoulder still hotly glued over my chest. I’m too busy stealing glances at the porcelain goddess that has me entranced.

  I’ve fallen hard for Scarlett Kent.

  And if our parents tie the knot, come August, she’ll be my stepsister.

  Untying the Knot

  Scarlett

  The overlook adjacent to the Witch’s Cauldron is beautifully adorned with a latticed arch interwoven with wisteria and an entire Garden of Eden’s worth of flowers gracing it on either side. Both Piper and Baya are standing up for Annie, and Marley will have her sister, Jemma, stand up for her. I’ve witnessed Jemma lose her mind about ten times in the last half hour—needing to smoke a “damn cigarette.” The ceremony is due to begin any moment. The seats are brimming with friends and family. Technically, I’m neither, but Piper begged both Cassidy and me to come. She asked Daisy, too, but she’s stuck at the club all day. She m
entioned that the other night when we were all there for the bachelorette event gone awry that someone slipped a waitress a two-hundred-dollar tip to give her. To add to the mystery, the waitress said it came from someone at our table. And for as much as I accused Piper of doling out the big bucks, she denied it. Besides, the waitress mentioned that it was gifted by a very handsome guy—real good-looking. A part of me wonders if that very handsome guy might have been Rex. Everyone knows the Tobermans are loaded. Rex logged time at a ritzy boarding school that specializes in pumping out heads of state and Nobel Prize winners. Everyone also knows that scholastically fencing your kids in full-time from the ages of five to eighteen doesn’t come cheap. And good-looking? Ha! Rex has those other boys beat by a handsome mile. It must have been Rex.

  My heart sinks at the idea.

  I’m not sure why, but I can’t stop thinking about him. It’s like he’s haunting me both day and night. My mind races at the prospect of touching him, for show, of course, at the prospect of kissing him—a sport I’m not looking forward to. Okay, so maybe I’m looking forward to it just a little, but only because I’m curious on some level if his tongue really is forked as I suspect.

  He’s here today at the wedding of all places. Of course, he is. Rex Toberman is like a bad rash I can’t get rid of. Yesterday, I had a cross campus delivery for Roxy, and sure enough, there he was sweating in the sun in the name of Whitney Briggs University’s football team. I was practically forced to watch as I crossed the periphery of the field on my way to the athletics department. Rex was sporting shoulder pads that made him wide as a car, and those dark smudges of grease under each eye made him look animalistic as he charged head-on into the blocking sled. I may have paid extra attention as his muscles redefined themselves as they flexed, their dark contours looked as if an artist outlined him in charcoal. Rex is built for speed. I’ll give him that. And, thankfully for Whitney Briggs, he knows how to use it. Nevertheless, he’s here as a guest of Owen’s, which seems like a stretch, but Owen has a big heart, and so does everyone I’ve met so far in Hollow Brook.