Playboy

by Winter Travers

  There was the “pretty girl” again. “Do you know my name?”

  He turned his head to look at me. “That a serious question?”

  I shrugged. “Just wondering. You don’t really call me it.”

  “It’s Raelyn, pretty girl.”

  Even when he said my name, he still called me “pretty girl.” “You call all of the girls that?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

  “Only the ones I like.”

  I gasped and snapped my mouth shut. Say what? He could still call all of the girls that because he liked all of the girls, but it also meant that he liked me. Right? Why did it feel like I was catapulted back to high school and I was trying to figure out if my crush liked me or not?

  Except Playboy wasn’t a crush.

  A man like Playboy wasn’t some crush. He was a whole hell of a lot bigger than that.

  “Now are you gonna shut up, relax, and watch whatever shit this is?”

  The opening credits rolled on the screen, and I nodded. Maybe keeping my mouth shut for an hour would be a good thing. I seemed to be doing a whole hell of a lot more talking than I usually did.

  I finished my slice of pizza and grabbed another.

  Playboy drained his beer and nodded to my glass that was still full. “Better catch up, pretty girl.” He walked back into the kitchen.

  I heard him open the fridge. “I didn’t know we were having a competition.” I grabbed my glass and took a sip.

  Playboy walked back into the living room and plopped back down, but this time, he was closer to me. He clicked his beer to my glass. “Bottoms up.”

  “Is that a toast?” I laughed.

  He took a long pull from his beer. “Just a suggestion.”

  I rolled my eyes and took another sip. “I’m not much of a chugger.”

  “Figured you weren’t.”

  I wanted to be offended, but I couldn’t be. I really wasn’t a chugger. “Can we watch the show now?”

  He motioned to the TV. “Watch away, pretty girl. Pretend I’m not even here.”

  That was damn near impossible. Even if he didn’t talk, I could just feel his presence. Not to mention that he was sitting so close to me that I could now smell his scent. I wasn’t sure if it was an actual cologne he wore or if it was just the yummy, manly scent he had. Keep your mouth shut and do not ask him, Raelyn.

  I kept my mouth shut, but I added it to the ever mounting pile of questions I had for Playboy.

  *

  Playboy

  Was this how I usually spent my Monday nights?

  Hell no.

  Did I like it, though?

  Fuck yes.

  The banter flowed between Raelyn and me, and before I knew it, I had drank a six pack and it was half past eleven. We had watched three episodes of this weird ass show, and she had knocked out ten minutes ago.

  Her head was resting on the back of the couch, and her face was tipped toward me. Her glasses were crooked, and long lashes brushed her cheeks.

  I had heard people talk about natural beauty before, but I had never seen it. At least, not until I had met Raelyn. Her sweet innocence mixed with her fierce need to find her sister made me see her for more than what met the eye. Though what met the eye was fucking stunning.

  I didn’t need to come over tonight. I could have easily texted her that I hadn’t found anything out yet, but I needed to come here to see if what I felt for her was still the same. Had I just been taken by the fact she was different than all of the other girls I had been with? She hadn’t thrown herself at me, but she had offered herself to me if I helped find her sister.

  There was an attraction between us. I could feel it, and I knew she could, too. The thing that surprised me was she didn’t throw herself at me. When she had gone to change her clothes, I thought for sure she was turning into every other girl and was going to walk out in some skimpy shit.

  Yeah, that didn’t fucking happen. She walked out looking like she was ready for bed...and not bed as in fucking. Bed as in ready to fall the fuck asleep until morning.

  I grabbed the remote and turned off the TV.

  What the fuck was I doing here?

  Raelyn wasn’t my type of girl. She deserved shit a hundred times better than I could ever give her. Just look at the fucking house she lived in.

  A nice fucking neighborhood, manicured lawns, and a house too good for me to even step foot in. I was a cocky fucker who would never admit that someone was better than me, but a blind man could see I wasn’t good enough to talk to Raelyn, let alone sit on her couch and watch her sleep.

  But she wanted me here. She invited me in. Shared a meal with me and didn’t once act like she wanted me to leave. As long as she wanted me here, I wasn’t going to leave. I was a selfish bastard, and I was going to take every second she wanted to give me.

  *

  Chapter Five

  Raelyn

  The biker dude...

  “You look like you had a good night.”

  I dropped my purse on my desk. “Uh, I do?” I had walked in the door and headed straight to my work area. I had no idea what Leona was talking about.

  “That smile on your face.” Leona grabbed her coffee cup from under the coffee maker and set mine under it. She popped in another pod and closed the lid.

  I frowned. “What smile?”

  Leona laughed. “The one you just wiped off of your face.” She pressed the start button and leaned against the counter.

  She and I were the only two who worked in the office. Partly because the office wasn’t that big. Post and Boomer, our bosses, tended to be on site for all of the jobs and rarely actually came into the office for more than a few minutes to drop off a list of things they needed or something. We had a small area right by the door for the rare walk-ins, a kitchen area to the left of Leona’s desk, and then my desk sat on the opposite wall. Post and Boomer had desks, but they were pushed to the back and piled high with samples and what not.

  I plopped down in my chair and sighed. I had been smiling, and the reason for that smile was Playboy. He had left by the time I woke up this morning, but the text he had sent me on the way to work put the smile on my lips.

  7:30. See you tonight.

  Yeah, I was going to see him again tonight. I know he had said he was heading to the club tonight to ask around about Billie Jean, so I figured I was going along.

  And, I also had his phone number now. The number no one had except for his club buddies.

  “Just decided to have a good morning.” I turned on my computer and flipped open my schedule book for the day. “And I had Dough’s last night. You know how good their pizza is.”

  Leona grabbed my cup of coffee and splashed some creamer in. “Well, I guess you’re right. Good pizza can be the replacement for sex if you’re desperate.”

  “Leona,” I laughed. “I wasn’t talking about sex.”

  She set my coffee on my desk and folded her arms over her chest. “Girl, we are both single. The lack of sex is always on our minds.”

  I grabbed my cup and took a sip. “Speak for yourself.”

  “Oh, is that so? You have a new man I don’t know about or did you get a new toy?” She wagged her finger at me. “You know you better give me the link to buy my own or we’re gonna fight.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No new toy.” B.O.B. was doing his job just fine.

  “Then I’m gonna need all of the details on the man who seems to be keeping you satisfied.”

  I set my cup down and typed in my password to get started on my work for the day. Leona and I had the run of the office, but we still had work to do. Though, Leona seemed to always find time in her schedule to chit chat for a while, whether it be with me or her family on the phone.

  “There aren’t any details.” I hadn’t told Leona Billie Jean was missing. The more people I told about her being missing, the more real it made it feel. I just needed Playboy to help me find her, and I could stop worrying.

  �
�Raelyn,” she whined. “I know something is going on with you.”

  There was no way she could know anything. “There isn’t anything.” I did not need to tell her about Playboy. No way, no how.

  She leaned forward and splayed her hands on my desk. “I drove by your house last night,” she said slowly.

  Uh oh.

  “I had to turn around and drive by again because I couldn’t believe what I saw.”

  Double uh oh.

  “You can only imagine how shocked I was when I saw a motorcycle sitting in front of your house. Luckily, by the time I turned around, there was a god damn man standing on your front porch smoking a cigarette.” She turned around and cupped her hands around her mouth. “A man smoking a cigarette,” she shouted to the empty office. She whirled back around. “Give. Me. The. Details,” she demanded.

  “It’s nothing,” I insisted. At least, it wasn’t yet.

  “Raelyn, it has been eleven months and thirteen days since a man has looked my way, let alone plundered my woman cave. Even if the guy just stopped to ask for directions, I’m gonna need to know what happened every single time. If it’s really juicy, I might have to get my desk toy out and head to the bathroom.”

  “Leona!” I gasped. “You better not have a B.O.B. in your desk!”

  She shrugged and folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not saying I do, but I’m not saying I don’t.”

  “There’s something majorly wrong with you,” I muttered.

  “Yeah,” she shouted. “I haven’t had a good dicking in almost a year. Now spill the beans about motorcycle dude.”

  Geesh. I knew Leona hadn’t had a boyfriend for a while, but she was obviously going through something if she was ready to pull out her B.O.B. at work. “Dicking?”

  “You got five seconds to tell me, Raelyn, or I swear to God, I will explode.”

  As if she hadn’t just exploded? “I can’t find Billie Jean and Playboy is helping me find her.”

  Leona blinked rapidly. “You just said a lot, and I didn’t expect any of it.” She shook her head and held up a finger. “What do you mean you can’t find Billie Jean?”

  “I haven’t talked to her in a week.”

  “And why am I now just hearing about it?” she demanded.

  “I...well...” I closed my eyes and tried to fight back the sudden urge to cry. “Because I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t know how to tell you. Her phone is still on, but she’s not answering it.”

  “How do you know it’s still on?”

  See, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t know that if it rang it meant it was powered on. Though, I never really had to think about it before. “Because it doesn’t go straight to voicemail.”

  “Oh. I’d like to say that’s good news, but I really don’t know. Did you go to the police?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m worried they won’t care that she’s missing because there isn’t any evidence that something happened to her. I’m sure once they figure out that her phone was still on, they would write it off as she took off to blow off some steam and will come back when she’s ready to.”

  “Well, shit,” Leona mumbled. “I’m sure it won’t help any when they ask you what she does for a living and you say work at a strip club.”

  Nope. That wouldn’t help at all. I shook my head sadly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Is this where the biker dude called Playboy comes into play?”

  I nodded. “Billie Jean mentioned him a couple of times and how he helped her out.”

  “Okay,” Leona drawled.

  “And, so, I tracked him down and asked if he would help me,” I said simply.

  “How exactly did you track him down?”

  I cleared my throat. “Well, his club owns the strip club, and I knew where the club was...” I trailed off because I could tell Leona was going to freak out at my next words.

  “You hauled your cookies to the Royal Bastards’ clubhouse and just knocked? Do you understand who the Royal Bastards are?” Leona shrieked.

  I knew who they were. Everyone in town knew who they were. “They’re a motorcycle club.”

  Leona flounced over to her desk and grabbed her phone. “Honey, that is putting it pretty fucking plainly.” She diddled on her phone and then walked back over to me. She handed her phone to me. "Read that and tell me if they’re just a motorcycle club.”

  I saw the headline and handed it back to her. I had already read that. I had also read the other sixteen articles that mentioned the Royal Bastards before I had gone to the clubhouse. “All of those charges were dropped.”

  Leona rolled her eyes. “Well, then they must be saints,” Leona remarked.

  “They aren’t.” And that was what had convinced me to go to the clubhouse. Whatever had happened to Billie Jean might need the kind of man who would do whatever it took. The law be damned.

  “Are you off your rocker, Raelyn?” She reached out and plastered her palm on my forehead. “You feel a little warm.”

  I knocked her hand away. “I’m feeling fine, Leona. I need to find my sister, and the Royal Bastards are going to help me.”

  “Why?”

  “I just told you why.”

  She shook her head. “I mean why are they going to help you? Specifically Playboy. It’s not like he had a thing going with Billie Jean or anything.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Because I asked him to help me.”

  She eyed me closely. “What did you offer them to help you?”

  “I don’t think that's any of your business, Leona.”

  “He’s getting to dick you in exchange for helping to find your sister.”

  Jesus. She guessed it right on the first try. “I really need to get my work done for the day.”

  “Because your biker is coming over tonight?”

  I glared at her.

  She held up her hands. “Hey, I’m not judging you. I think you’re fucking brilliant for striking that deal. Jealous, if I’m telling the truth.”

  “Leona.”

  She leaned toward me. “I wanna help you find Billie Jean.”

  “What?” How in the hell was Leona going to help me? “I have Playboy helping me.”

  “And now you have me.”

  I shook my head. “No, Leona. You’re not helping me.”

  “I am and I will. I’ll come over tonight, and we can go over everything you know.”

  “No,” I snapped.

  She squinted, and a smile spread across her lips. “He is coming over tonight.”

  I clamped my lips shut.

  “Girl, you can bet your ass I am coming over tonight to meet biker dude.”

  “His name is Playboy,” I growled.

  “Oh, girl. You bet you picked a good one with that name.”

  “You’re not coming over. I won’t answer the door.”

  “I’ll be over at seven.”

  Shit. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “Leona, gosh darn it. You are not going out with Playboy and me tonight,” I snapped.

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh, baby. You’ve got a date with biker dude.”

  Gah. I needed to keep my mouth shut. “No, I don’t.”

  “Where are we going?” She was not going to let this go.

  “Nowhere, and it’s not a date.”

  She sat on the edge of my desk. “I’m not giving up, Raelyn. Just spill the beans on what time I need to come to your house and what I should wear.”

  “He’s picking me up at eight thirty, and we’re going to Skinz to talk to some people. It’s not a date. We’re trying to find my missing sister.”

  Leona clasped her hands together and smiled wide. “Awesome. I’ll be at your house at six-thirty because I’m sure you lied about what time he’s picking you up.”

  “Leona,” I whined. “Can you please just not come over?” I was beyond desperate for her to stay away. If Leona was at my house when Playboy showed up, I was positive he would turn around before he even
got off his bike.

  “I wonder what I should wear.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “We’re asking questions, so maybe something sort of stealthy, yeah?”

  “No, Leona.” Oh, my God. She was plotting her outfit to wear tonight.

  “But, we’re doing the questioning at a strip club.” She slipped off my desk and wandered back over to hers. “So, a sexy stealthy.”

  “That’s not a thing, Leona, and you are not coming with us tonight.”

  She smiled over her shoulder. “Oh, yes, I am.”

  I dropped my chin to my chest and sighed. Dear God. What I had done? I should have just kept my mouth shut. I was horrible at lying or even just stretching the truth.

  Should I text Playboy and tell him that Leona was insisting on coming?

  Ugh. If I did that then he might not come over at all.

  I wasn’t going to tell him, and I just prayed that Leona played it cool when Playboy came over tonight.

  “Oh, my God,” she yelped. “You are not going to believe the cute black skirt I just found online. It’s perfect for questioning.”

  I groaned. Yeah, this was going to be an interesting night.

  *

  Chapter Six

  Playboy

  Come again?

  “Where are you going?”

  I grabbed my cut and shrugged it on. “Gotta pick something up and then to the club.”

  Mace nodded. “You still looking for Billie Jean?”

  “Maybe. Who’s asking?”

  “Just trying to figure out what you’re up to.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Just helping someone out.”

  “Since when do you do that?” Mace laughed.

  Since a chick like I had never met before asked me to help her. “You make me sound like a dick.”

  “Brother, you care about one thing in life and it sure in hell isn’t helping people.”

  I flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

  Mace laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. You’re not really my type. You looking for that shit, you should hit up Tank.”

  “Not my speed either, brother.” I pulled my keys out of my pocket. “See you at the club later?”

  Mace shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll see what I feel like later.”