Taking It Slow: Doing Bad Things Book 3

Home > Other > Taking It Slow: Doing Bad Things Book 3 > Page 3
Taking It Slow: Doing Bad Things Book 3 Page 3

by Marie, Jordan


  Then, the damn woman turns around as pretty as you please, leans back against the old truck like she doesn’t have a care in the world, and taunts me.

  “Hi, Big Daddy.”

  Memories of our night in Vegas

  Even with her turned around, the stupid ass Leroy still has his hand on her ass.

  “For real, man. Take your fucking hand off my wife’s ass,” I warn him, ignoring Faith right now.

  “Wife?” Leroy mumbles. “You married to this guy, Faith?”

  “That fucking ring on her finger tell you anything, asshole?” I answer. Faith looks down at her hand, frowning.

  “There’s no call for you to get pissed here, son.”

  “This is not pissed. This is mildly upset. You don’t take your hand off Faith’s ass, you will see pissed then.”

  “I don’t want any trouble. Didn’t know the little lady was married.”

  “There won’t be trouble… If you move your fucking hand.”

  Leroy seems to size me up and then he holds his hands up like that should make me happy. It doesn’t. Although at this point I’m more pissed at Faith than anything—or anyone—else.

  “If it was my woman, I wouldn’t be letting her work for old Joe. I sure wouldn’t be letting her do anything dressed like she is.”

  “Damn woman didn’t stay where I put her.”

  “They can be contrary like that,” Leroy agrees, relaxing.

  “The woman, as you so delicately put it, has a brain of her own,” Faith huffs, obviously offended.

  I let my eyes rake over her, taking in her body from head to toe. She’s better than my tequila-soaked brain remembered. All tits, ass, and legs, and all of it better than good. Her face, though, it’s fucking extraordinary. Delicate, in a way you want to admire it, caress… Own it. Her eyes are pools that seem to glitter and if a man’s not careful he could drown in them. Hell, even her eyebrows are something. Perfectly formed and they have a way of curving when she’s annoyed—which she is most definitely at this moment—that made my dick sit up and take notice.

  “Don’t look like it,” I tell her, and as if on cue there goes them damn eyebrows. Her face colors and those blue pools narrow at me. For some damn reason, I fight a smile.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Any woman with a brain wouldn’t be prancing her ass in the cold wind of Colorado like you are,” I answer her, point blank.

  “It’s my uniform,” she growls and she leans into me. As she does so I worry her damn tits are going to fall out of her bikini top.

  “It’s a fucking bikini, wife.”

  “It’s the uniform Joe gave me to wear, Big Daddy.”

  “Then I’ll be dealing with Joe next.”

  “Huh?”

  “Get your shit together. Been chasing your ass for weeks. Got stuff to do.”

  “Got stuff to do?”

  “That’s what I said.” Any other time this back and forth might be mildly amusing. Right now, it’s annoying. Probably a mixture of things beginning and ending with Faith.

  “Then might I suggest you go do them and leave me alone. I’m happy here.”

  “Can’t do that, considering we’re married now.”

  “Wait, how long you been married?” Leroy asks, and I let out a breath which sounds more like a rumbling growl. I thought he left. Faith doesn’t realize it just yet, but I’m getting very close to the edge of my control.

  “Almost a month,” I answer him, my look and tone warning him I could snap him like a damn stick.

  “One day,” Faith answers obstinately. I find myself rubbing above my eye, irritation trying to bring on a headache and that headache has my “wife’s” name on it.

  “One day?”

  “We were married in Vegas, Leroy, in a drunken haze of tequila.”

  “You forgot the sex, wife.”

  “I didn’t forget. I just didn’t want to bring it up, Big Daddy.”

  I’m going to spank her ass.

  “No need to be embarrassed now,” I mock her. Since she’s been gone, I’ve remembered some of our wedding night and one of the best memories is the way she screamed and begged for me out on the balcony.

  “Are you sure?” she asks. There’s something in her question that makes me curious.

  “Definitely,” I tell her—mostly because I don’t like the idea of Faith being ashamed of anything we did together, even if the alcohol was to blame.

  “Whatever. Can you leave? Joe’s going to get tired of me standing around and I need to earn money.”

  “If you were my woman, you wouldn’t need to worry about money, Faith,” Leroy says, making his ass known again. I really need to squash that asshole.

  “Aw, Leroy, you’re such a sweetie. And I want you to know your tips have helped me greatly. I almost have enough saved up.”

  “What are you saving for, darlin’?”

  “A divorce.”

  “Well now, you don’t say. How much do you need for this divorce?”

  “You’re shitting me right now,” I growl, interrupting their conversation.

  Faith looks up at me, blinking her eyes and trying to look as innocent as the day she was born.

  Why do I get the feeling she’s never been innocent in her life?

  9

  Faith

  He looks good.

  I don’t especially want to notice that, but I do. He looks really good—even with his eyes boring holes into me and his face looking like he wants to choke me. Of course he’ll have to get in line. I apparently have that effect on men.

  “I need another thousand,” I sigh sadly, smiling at old Leroy.

  “A thousand?” Titan asks, outrage—or maybe disbelief—laced through his voice.

  “Divorce ain’t cheap, Big Daddy.” I smile, giving my best “I’m innocent” face.

  “Why are you divorcing him, sweet cheeks?”

  I blink at Leroy’s new pet name. Since he’s had his hand on my cheeks—as it were—I probably should be flattered.

  “I’d be interested in hearing that since you got my ass drunk to get me to the altar.”

  “I what?” I can’t believe he said that. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be, but I am.

  “Didn’t stutter, sweet cheeks.”

  “I did not get you drunk. You got me drunk.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true!” And it mostly is. He did buy the bottle of Patron and convince me we had to do shots every time we lost at blackjack. It should be said that Titan is a horrible blackjack player, and I’m worse—especially when getting drunk.

  “Got to say, buddy. I’m buying little Faith’s version here a lot more than yours.”

  “Stay out of this, old man.”

  “I might be old, but I’m not stupid.”

  “You’ll excuse me if I’m not buying that. You’re the asshole who had his hands on my wife’s ass. That’s pretty fucking stupid.”

  “Doesn’t sound like Faith is planning on staying your wife. I think that’d make her and her gorgeous ass fair game. Is this the guy Joe mentioned has been calling and bothering you, Faith?”

  “Awe, Leroy. You think I have a gorgeous ass?” I ask him, ignoring his question about the guy aggravating me. My ex tracked me down here—somehow. He hasn’t called the last few days though, so I’m hoping that means he has finally got the message that I’m done with him.

  “That you do, darlin’. Prettier than the sunrise over the Rockies.”

  “You are just a sweet talker, aren’t you?” I giggle. Leroy is a letch, but he is a cute letch and mostly harmless. Plus, I think any woman would agree that it’s always nice to be told you have a gorgeous ass.

  “Just stating the truth.”

  “Man, you’re pushing me,” Titan says and, gee, he sounds almost… jealous. I decide to block that out. I think I liked it, which is crazy—so I decide to block that fact out too. I don’t need to like anything about Titan.

  “I just look at Faith her
e and see that a man would snatch that up in a hot minute.”

  “I think this ring on my hand says I did, Leroy. If you don’t mind, I need to have a conversation with my wife. And man, it’s a conversation that don’t need to include you.”

  “But I think you’re wrong. The little lady here doesn’t exactly seem happy to be around you. You don’t seem exactly happy to be married to her.”

  “He does have a point, Big Daddy,” I add helpfully. To which I swear I can see a vein thump in agitation above Titan’s left eye. It’s cute and right away I have to wonder if I can make his eye twitch. “You’re very wise, Leroy,” I praise him—trying my best not to giggle at Titan’s groan of frustration.

  Then Titan does something I wasn’t expecting. He has a black sports jacket over a purple silk button-up. He takes it off and hangs it over my shoulders. It swallows me and lays heavy on my arms. But it’s soft, it smells like Titan—which is to say, it smells really, really freaking good. It’s also really warm, almost hot and feels heavenly. So I let it stay there.

  He was being nice, it’s the least I can do.

  “Thank you, darlin’,” Leroy continues. “Now, as I was saying, don’t matter that Faith came with a nail for your coffin in the shape of a ring—”

  “Uh… gee, Leroy—”

  “You still marry her, for a chance to get in her pussy.”

  And there it is.

  Suddenly ol’ letch Leroy is starting to get on my nerves. I always did have horrible taste in men. Maybe he’s not so harmless after all.

  “Leroy—” I try to interject.

  “And a real man will not risk getting drunk so his dick won’t perform when he gets near her pussy,” Leroy goes on, determined to get his point across. I have to admit once again he does have a wise point—in a gross, I might be a pervert and not harmless kind of way. “So I don’t buy your story.” Leroy finishes up his thoughts, and I really hope he’s finished now. I’m not sure I want to hear more of Leroy’s facts of life—even if he does think I have a gorgeous ass.

  That gorgeous ass part needed repeated again, really.

  “You keep talking about my wife’s pussy and you and I got problems, Jack,” Titan answers, and his voice sounds all… rumbly and I’m thinking that doesn’t mean wine and roses for Leroy.

  “Okay, so maybe we should break this up,” I announce when another car drives off. “Joe’s going to be upset when he comes back out if he sees I’m not working,” I tell them, but both men are ignoring me.

  Isn’t that special.

  “I would have to believe that Faith would have to be drunk to marry your kind, though,” Leroy says and damn it, not only is Leroy a pervert, what he just said—and the way he said it—makes it pretty clear he’s a racist pervert.

  I really don’t have good judgment when it comes to men.

  “You fucking jerk. If you think you can insult me, man, you’re going to have to come up with a better game than that. I’ve been around the best of you spewing that—”

  “Okay fine!” I yell, getting in between the two men. This is as close as I’ve seen Titan come to losing control. I don’t think it’d be good if he wipes the floor with Leroy—even if he deserves it. I’d probably feel guilty and have to bail him out of jail. That would put a serious dent in my money supplies. So it’s definitely time to defuse the situation. “He’s right, Leroy. I got him drunk.”

  “You what?” Leroy asks, clearly not believing me, and I feel Titan’s anger still boiling, even if I have my back turned to him. That might not be wise, but I figure if I’m standing in front of Titan and facing Leroy, Titan can’t kill Leroy—thus ending up in jail and making me spend my money on bail.

  “I got him drunk. I fell victim to the lust of the trouser snake.”

  “The trouser snake?”

  That question comes from Titan, who whispers it against me, his breath hitting my neck and ear as he asks it. And it’s not anger in his voice now. There’s almost a laugh detectable in his soft whisper. I ignore the all-over body chill that runs through me. I can’t let myself go there with Titan. Last time I did, I ended up married, with my stomach sore for weeks from being fucked so hard.

  It was a really good feeling—but still.

  “No harm for a woman to enjoy a good dicking, girl. You just got a hold of the wrong one,” Leroy adds, spouting his wisdom again—which is starting to sound less and less wise.

  “It’s not just any… dicking… It’s… Titan. He didn’t want to go there with me, so I got him drunk and completely took advantage of him.”

  “Jesus,” Leroy says.

  “’Bout time you admitted it,” Titan says, and maybe jail is a good place for him.

  “If you like dick that much, darlin’, I got some for you and trust me, it won’t be whiskey-limp.”

  “Probably because you’ll pump it full of Viagra.”

  “What in the fuck you saying?” Leroy asks, and then, proving he really is stupid, ignores the fact that Titan is twice his size and can grind him into dust. “I might be older, boy, but I’ll mop the floor with you.”

  “I’m not your boy,” Titan growls, trying to push around me. This is getting out of hand and escalating fast. It’s worse because I see Sheriff Adams walking along the sidewalk. If he comes this way, suddenly the threat of jail for Titan seems all too real.

  “You wouldn’t work for me anyway, Leroy. I’m afraid only Titan will.”

  “No way,” Leroy says, clearly disbelieving me. Titan, on the other hand, gets still and again some of his anger leaves. I can literally feel it. I have no idea how or why I can—I just know I do.

  “Afraid so,” I sigh sadly.

  “You been missing my dick, wife?” Titan asks in my ear again. I have. I really have, but I’m not about to admit that, so I ignore him and concentrate on Leroy.

  “You know what they say, Leroy.”

  “What’s that?” he asks, eyeing me way too close—and since he’s had his hand on my ass, that’s saying something.

  “Is there a problem here?” the sheriff asks, proving my luck is shit.

  “Maybe, Adams,” Leroy says. “Faith here has a husband, only I don’t think she wants him. I think she’s afraid of him.”

  “Is that true, Faith?”

  Titan is being unusually quiet behind me. Figures. I have to make a split-second decision on if I want Titan to go to jail or not.

  Damn it.

  10

  Titan

  I take a wait-and-see approach here. I have to admit I like having Faith close to me and I’m enjoying teasing her and the way she keeps trying to wade in the middle of me and this racist fuck, Leroy. I hate people like this asshole, throwing words out like he doesn’t realize what he’s saying, but the truth is there for anyone to read—or hear. I should punch him in the mouth and put an end to this shit, but for some reason I don’t. I think that reason has everything to do with the way Faith keeps backing into me, inching closer every time Leroy shoots off at the mouth. Every time I whisper to her, her body shudders and it has a direct effect on my cock. Her ass keeps getting closer to my cock too, and that’s an even better effect.

  I put my hand on Faith’s hip and grin when she jumps underneath my touch.

  “Easy there,” I whisper for her ears only and just like clockwork, that shudder runs through her a mere second later. I find myself smiling even with Leroy still breathing the same air as me.

  “There’s no problem, Sheriff Adams,” Faith says and again she backs into me, her ass grazing against my slacks. My cock instantly pushes up as if reaching for her.

  Jesus.

  “Faith was just explaining how she married this … man … out of her love for—”

  “Trouser snake,” she sighs and she sounds so disgusted with herself that I can ignore Leroy’s tone when he refers to me as a man.

  “You two are married?” the sheriff asks, sounding surprised. He has every reason to be. I doubt Faith broadcast she was married and any
man who is a man wouldn’t have allowed her to work like she has been. Hell, we’re not even married the way a man and a woman should be and I don’t like that she has these ass-fucks looking at her like this.

  I let Leroy explain to the sheriff how Faith and I are married and my claim she got me drunk. I can even smirk a little when he starts talking about my woman’s—Faith’s—love of ‘trouser snakes’. One thing about it, being around Faith is never boring. It might be too much excitement for one man.

  “I was just explaining to Faith that I’d be willing to help her out if she didn’t want to stay married. I got more than enough to keep her happy.”

  “You’re a horny old fool, Leroy. Faith, maybe we should go inside and talk,” the sheriff says and I might have some respect for him. It’s clear he has Leroy pegged.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I tell the sheriff, getting tired of all of this. “My wife and I need to leave. We have things to discuss.”

  “I can’t leave, Big Daddy. I have to work.”

  “Does he make you call him Big Daddy?” Leroy asks and, hand to God, I think the old geezer is getting a stiff one. Maybe the fucker doesn’t need Viagra after all.

  “It’s a pet name,” Faith grumbles.

  “She gave it to me after she looked at my dick,” I add helpfully. Her body stiffens for a moment and then she turns to look at me, shooting me an annoyed expression that makes me grin.

  “That’s what did it for you, wasn’t it, sweet cheeks? You liked the size of Daddy’s dick.”

  “That’s it exactly,” Faith says, her voice tight and there might be a smile on her face, but she’s not happy—which, oddly enough, makes me happy.

  “That’s my girl. She does love my dick,” I brag, pulling her into me.

 

‹ Prev