Mixed with Trouble: A CASH BAR NOVEL

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Mixed with Trouble: A CASH BAR NOVEL Page 24

by Faiman, Hayley


  “I am,” I agree, nodding my head once. “Are you?” I ask, still not looking away from Baby.

  He hums, there’s a moment of pause and I finally turn my head to look at him. Coda’s gaze is focused across the room and when my eyes follow his, my lips twitch. Camille is standing next to the new prospect, Benoit, which Baby told me was her brother.

  “Are you going to make that happen, Coda?” I ask.

  He turns to me, his brows knit together. My lips tip in a smile, my gaze flicking from Camille then back to him. He sighs, lifting his hand and I watch as he wraps his fingers around the back of his neck.

  “She. We. It’s complicated,” he stammers.

  Pressing my lips together, I roll them a couple of times before I begin to speak.

  “You may think that it’s complicated, but honestly, you’re a man and she’s a woman. There’s nothing all that complicated about it. If she wants you, and you want her.” I shrug.

  Coda snorts, shaking his head a couple of times, then takes a step back. His gaze leaves mine and turns to Baby’s. “Congrats brother.” He grins, moving his hand from his neck and holding it out to shake Baby’s.

  They shake hands and Coda quickly turns and walks away. I’m disappointed when I watch him walk straight over to a clubwhore who is standing off to the side, just a few feet away from Camille.

  “Lea?”

  “Shh,” I say, holding up my hand as I watch what happens next.

  Camille turns her head, her face going from content to stricken. My heart aches for her as she watches Coda wrap his hand around the bare waist of the clubwhore and pull her against his side.

  He dips his chin, pressing his face against her neck and I watch as Camille lifts her hand to her face, her finger touching the corner of her eye.

  “What a dick,” I whisper.

  “Not your business, Tiny,” Baby’s voice rumbles.

  Turning to face him, I tip my head back and look into his pretty eyes. I sigh, opening my mouth, then snapping it closed.

  “Not. Your. Business,” he reminds me.

  “I know,” I grind out. “But he is so into her and she’s obviously into him.”

  Baby shakes his head. “They ain’t ready to make a move on it, yet. Stay out of the whole fuckin’ thing,” he warns.

  “But what if they ruin their chances? What if she hooks up with someone else, or what if he does? I think they are meant for one another,” I point out.

  “Like us?” he asks. “I was engaged, even if it was fake. I was. You were with someone else, but when it’s right, Tiny, it’s fucking right. Let them make their own mistakes and hopefully they’ll be led back to one another, if not, then they will move on and find their own pieces of happiness, whatever that looks like. At the end of the day, it ain’t your business,” he annoyingly points out again.

  With a sigh, I roll my eyes. Rising to my toes, I press my lips against his. “Let’s get out of here,” I breathe against his mouth.

  He grunts, bending his knees slightly and wrapping his hands around my ass before he picks me up. My feet no longer touch the ground, as he begins to move toward the bedrooms.

  “Too drunk to drive,” he announces as he walks through the bar.

  The room alights with another round of catcalls as we make our way through the crowd. We ignore them. My eyes are focused nowhere but his blue ones. He walks us past the threshold and slams his door behind us, then reaches back and locks it in one quick motion.

  “Not where I expected to spend my wedding night, but it’s fitting,” I say as he slowly lowers me to my feet.

  Baby doesn’t break his gaze from my own. “Probably makes me a dick, but this is where I wanted to have you tonight,” he admits with a shrug.

  “Why?”

  “Because this room, this is where I fell in love with you, Lea. I wanted to have you as my own before you moved in here, but this is where I knew I couldn’t live my life without you. This is where I want to spend our first night as man and wife.”

  Tears fill my eyes as I continue to stare up at him in surprise. “Okay, Mitchell,” I whisper.

  “Have I mentioned how hard it makes my dick every time you call me Mitchell?” he asks, his voice nothing but a husky rasp.

  “Maybe.” I smile.

  He shakes his head, closing the distance between us, his hands reaching behind me and slowly walking up my back until they get to the top of my dress zipper.

  His eyes hold mine as he slowly begins to tug the zipper down my back. I become completely lost in his gaze, in him and he slips my dress off of my shoulders until it pools at my feet.

  I hold my breath as his fingers move around the front of my body, they dance down the center of my chest and stop at the slight rounding of my belly.

  I’m not showing much, I just found out that I was pregnant a few days ago. But I can already feel my body beginning to change.

  “I never thought that I would be happy, Lea, and then you called me needing help. I never thought that I would have a wife that I loved, that I would have a beautiful life with a baby on the way. You came into my life when I was at one of my darkest times.”

  My heart pounds against my chest. We didn’t do our own vows because I knew he would hate to be put on the spot like that. But this, this speech is so beautiful that I wish everyone could hear it, and at the same time, I’m glad that it’s only for my ears.

  Reaching for his hand, I don’t say a word as I turn around and lead him over to the bed. Without another word spoken, my husband and I make love for the first time as a married couple.

  It starts out sweet, but quickly our desire and passion take over and it turns into hard, fast, and deliciously perfect.

  Just like us.

  I can’t wait for what awaits us.

  For what is in store for us on this beautiful curvy road called life.

  SHOT WITH FREEDOM

  A CASH BAR SHORT STORY

  CHAPTER ONE

  CODA

  Camille watches me from across the Cash Bar. It’s no surprise to her that I’m here. I’ve been coming here every shift of hers for months, like a goddamn stalker. I watch her. I watch the customers. I just watch. I need to know without a doubt that she is okay. Always. I need to watch over her the way she did for me.

  “Get you somethin’?” Traci asks.

  I also don’t sit in Camille’s area, I never do. Keeping my distance, while being in the same room. It’s a dick move, then again everything I do is just that—a dick move, especially when it comes to her.

  “Beer,” I grunt.

  “You gonna claim that girl or are your plans just to make sure nobody else has her by glowering in her direction every single day?” Traci asks, setting the beer down in front of me. She knew what I was going to order, I don’t know why she even bothered asking me.

  “Kinda like glowering.” I shrug.

  Traci lets out a heavy sigh. “Either you do something about it or you stop coming in. You’re starting to make some of my regulars nervous and they’ve all been in and out of jail, sugar pop.”

  Lifting my shaky hand, I run my fingers through my hair, shifting my gaze from Camille to Traci. “What do you propose I do, huh?” I ask, not keeping the smart-ass tone from my words.

  Traci rolls her eyes to the ceiling then brings them back to me. “Fuck her. Ask her out. Claim her, I don’t really care what you do, Coda. Just stop being a fucking pussy,” she snaps.

  “Jesus Christ, babe,” I rasp, her words hitting a little too close to home.

  “Speaking the truth,” she states before she turns around and walks back to the bar.

  My eyes don’t watch Traci’s ass as it sways away from me. Instead, I turn my gaze over to Camille. I expect to see her serving her customers, but instead she’s standing at the end of the bar, her tray pressed against her chest and her pretty blue eyes focused on me and me alone.

  I could walk up to her right now, grab her hand and take her back to the trailer behind
the bar, the place that she’s called her home for the past six months. I could probably fuck her, judging by the way she’s watching me, she’d let me right about now.

  I don’t do any of those things.

  Why?

  Because Traci is right. I’m a goddamn pussy. I want Camille so damn bad that my entire body aches. I also want her to have her freedom. With me, she won’t. She deserves it, after the life she was almost forced into, she deserves to live free, clean, and easy.

  CAMILLE

  I have felt his eyes on me the entire evening. Stopping next to the bar, I bring the tray to my chest and watch him from across the room. He’s talking to Traci, so I take a moment to look at him. He’s distracted, but he’s beautiful.

  He looks like a model. His jaw square, chiseled, his eyes dark and his hair only a little too long. He’s fairly clean-shaven, just scruff covering his jaw. He doesn’t look exactly like the other bikers, he’s unique. A little cleaner cut than the others, a little prettier.

  Traci walks away from him, but I can’t tear my gaze away, even when he shifts his eyes from Traci’s ass over to me. He tilts his head to the side, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. I watch as the liquid works down his throat and my knees become weak at the sight.

  “Why do you want him so damn bad?” a voice asks.

  Glancing to the side, I notice that Esme is watching me, her brow lifted in question. With a sigh, I turn away from Coda’s gaze and move behind the bar to gather my table’s drinks so that I can deliver them.

  “I don’t,” I lie.

  Esme snorts. “Girl, both of you are swimming upstream in the river of denial. It’s actually pretty fucking painful to watch,” she announces. “Let me tell you something, girl-to-girl,” she offers.

  With my tray filled and ready to deliver, I glance over to her. “Yeah?”

  “If you don’t make a move, he never will. I don’t know what’s holding him back, but typically these guys pounce when they see something they want. He’s not doing that and there’s a reason for it. Maybe it’s your brother, maybe it’s something else, but I bet if you give him an in, he’ll be all over that.” She winks.

  Turning away from her, I don’t respond to her suggestion. I couldn’t do that, not ever. Throwing myself at someone, anyone, even Coda? No way could I ever do that.

  I would feel like the sex worker Phillippe Martel kidnapped me to be, like some whore. Like some useless blow up sex doll, which is what I was supposed to be before these men saved me.

  The rest of the evening, I work, keeping my head down and my eyes off of Coda. When the bar is closed, I help Esme and Traci clean up before I clock out and gather my things to leave. Stepping out of the back door, I glance toward my trailer which is only a few dozen steps away.

  “Do you need someone to walk you home?” a deep voice asks.

  With a small scream, I turn around and see Coda leaning against the wall. He pushes off of it, throwing a cigarette to the ground before his heel smashes the embers that are still glowing.

  “Sure.” I smile shakily.

  He doesn’t say anything to me and I’m way too nervous to say something back to him. Once we’re at my front door, I stop and turn toward him.

  “Thanks,” I whisper.

  He dips his chin, but doesn’t make a move toward me or away. We just stare at one another for a moment in limbo. Esme’s words come back to me. Make the first move. Inhaling deeply, I start to lean toward him when he finally opens his mouth to speak.

  “Won’t be around for a while,” he announces.

  I stop my movements, straightening my body, tipping my head back to look up at him. “You won’t?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I won’t. Going out on a run, just wanted to let you know. Don’t know why you would care, but yeah.” He nods.

  “When do you leave?” I ask.

  Coda clears his throat. “Sunday.”

  “Oh, okay.” I nod.

  It’s Thursday, so that’s only a few days away. I press my lips together, trying to work up the courage to throw myself at him or to kiss him or something.

  “A few of us are leaving together so there’ll probably be a club thing Saturday night,” he offers.

  It’s an olive branch. An unspoken invitation and my heart races at the thought. I’ve never really been one for the club parties. They kind of frighten me, but he’s telling me because he wants me there, maybe.

  “Okay.” I nod again.

  “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Better get inside, it’s late.”

  “Okay,” I stupidly whisper.

  Turning away from him, I let myself inside and close the door behind me. I don’t look at him again, too afraid of myself if I do.

  I want him.

  I want everything about him.

  I wish that I was brave enough to tell him so. Sliding down the door until my ass hits the floor, I bury my face in my hands and let out a frustrated scream.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CODA

  Fuck.

  I’m a fucking idiot.

  Turning away from Camille’s, I make my way back to my bike and straddle it before glancing back at her trailer one more time. There’s a light on in her bedroom, and I watch as her shadow moves around.

  Fuck.

  My cock grows hard at the sight of her shadow, that’s how much I want this girl. Traci was right though, I’m a goddamn pussy when it comes to Camille. I wish I could say what it is about her, about her possibly rejecting me, that has me so goddamn fucked up in the head.

  I’ve never given a fuck about a woman before, not ever. If someone rejected me, I’d just move on to the next one, though to be quite honest I haven’t been rejected by anyone in a fuck’ve a long time.

  Starting my bike, I turn it away from the trailer and bar, heading back to the clubhouse. I’ve been living there full time since I was accepted into the brotherhood.

  It’s easier, and fuck, thinking about going home to an empty house after leaving Camille alone in hers makes me want to vomit.

  I’m such a fucking pussy.

  Riding toward the clubhouse, I lift my chin to the prospect guarding the gate as I ride past him. Once I’m close to the main door of the building, I park my bike in its spot and quickly climb off.

  I need to get my balls back, I’ve given them to Camille and she doesn’t even realize it, thank fuck.

  The room is fairly quiet, as it should be at four in the morning. Deciding to get some sleep, I make my way back to my room. Thankfully, it’s empty when I walk inside.

  Sometimes, Lola sneaks in here to surprise me. I know that I shouldn’t let her come and go in my personal space whenever she feels like it, but we have a mutual understanding between one another.

  Stripping down, I toss all of my clothes in a pile at the end of my bed and crawl between my sheets. Lifting my arm over my eyes, I let out a long sigh.

  I need this time away to ride down to Idaho. I need to just breathe for a while. I need to decide just what the fuck I’m going to do about Camille.

  I’ve never been indecisive in my life, and it’s not that I am right now. I know that I want her. I want to sink inside of her, knowing the promise of this is more than I’ve ever dreamed possible. I can’t even imagine what really being with her is going to feel like.

  But, I hesitate to take her.

  I can’t tie her to me when I know that she was almost hurt the way that she was. I can’t claim ownership over her the way that I want to.

  Not her.

  Marking her is going to feel wrong, even when I know deep inside that it’s exactly what I want to do.

  “You’re thinking awfully loud over there.” Lola’s voice breaks through.

  Lifting my arm off of my eyes, I look over at her in surprise. “What’re you doing in here?” I ask.

  She shrugs a shoulder, her body completely bare and naked as she walks over to me. “Three people in one bed is uncomfortable,” she mutters as she crawls into my bed.


  “Why didn’t you go to your own bed then?” I ask.

  Her hand slides up the inside of my thigh on her way up the bed, her lips touching the side of my neck as her fingers wrap around my semi-hard cock.

  “Three people may be too many to sleep, but I need more before the night is over,” she breathes.

  Lola is a sex addict, which makes this the perfect place for her since there is an abundance of brothers and whores who are more than willing to fuck any time of day, or night.

  However, even with the plethora of bodies willing to please, she doesn’t always get what she needs.

  This is our mutual understanding.

  She comes to me when she needs that extra fuck to fall asleep. And I always deliver. She knows I’m half in love with Camille, she knows we’ll never be anything more than friends, and she’s perfectly fine with that.

  I’m a fucking asshole.

  CAMILLE

  “You should come with me,” Traci calls out. “You’re not working during the party, just come.”

  I shake my head, closing my eyes for a moment, then opening them again. “And watch him with whores? No thanks,” I breathe.

  Traci snorts. “You know they don’t mean anything at all, right?”

  “Doesn’t change the fact that he’s with them.”

  “And not with you.” She nods.

  “And not with me,” I admit.

  “Then, sugar pop, make it happen.”

  Traci doesn’t say anything else, she turns away from me and I watch her. I’m about to go clock out when she stops and looks at me over her shoulder.

  “Ice and I will pick you up in an hour,” she calls out.

  I quickly count and clock out for the night, then make my way back to the trailer. Once I’m inside, I inhale a deep breath and sift through my clothes, finding the outfit that I bought on a whim that’s been hidden in the back of my closet since its purchase.

 

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