SBMC Miami Box set

by Erin Trejo

  “Have you lost your damned mind? I could have drowned just now.” I snap. The smile that creeps over his face dissipates my anger immediately. I can’t find it in me to be mad at him anymore. Why the hell does he have that effect on me? I barely know him and for some fucked up reason I can’t seem to be pissed at him. That is so unfair.

  “You were teasin’ the other guests,” Mason says while shrugging.

  “I thought you were gone. When did you come back? And for your information, I most certainly was not teasing anyone. Had he asked me nicely, I would have fucked him in this very pool.”

  “Is that so? Don’t let me stop you then,” Mason says as he releases me, giving me a little shove in the direction of Mr. Shades. His eyes are still tracking my every move, even as Mason does the same. I’m suddenly torn between what to do. I’ve never felt the need to make choices like this before. Taking a deep breath, I move toward Shades. His glasses are still on top of his head, making him look absolutely delicious.

  “He your boyfriend?” he asks, looking over my shoulder at Mason.

  “Nope, just a guy. I’m Whitley,” I introduce myself. Shades seems to be watching for a reaction from Mason, he doesn’t get one. His eyes come back to rest on mine. He brings his hand up, brushing my hair away from my face, and pushing it behind my ear.

  “I’m Greg. What brings you here?” he asks, inching his way closer to me. My body responds, and I move closer to him.

  “You brought me here. What are we going to do about it?” Leaning in, I press my lips to his neck. Greg shudders and then releases a groan. His hand wraps around the back of my neck before he spins us around. My back is pressed against the rough concrete of the pool as Greg watches me.

  “You are very intriguing,” he whispers; as his lips come down to meet mine. The entire world could fade and wash away right now as his lips take from mine, and I wouldn’t notice or care. My body arches, but something feels off. I don’t know what it is, and I can’t seem to place it. A growl vibrates behind Greg and when I open my eyes Mason is there. His muscles are bulging, corded tightly. His jaw tics as he looks at me. Greg doesn’t seem to notice as his lips move from mine down my neck. I don’t respond as Mason sneers at me. What the hell is he doing?

  “You’re touchin’ somethin’ that isn’t yours,” Mason growls. Greg tilts his head, smiling before he turns to face Mason.

  “The lady said she wasn’t here with you. That makes her open and up for grabs.”

  “I’m pretty sure that isn’t fuckin’ right. She’s mine,” Mason roars. I look around Greg and watch as the water slowly laps at Mason’s waist. Dragging my eyes slowly up his body, I can’t help the shiver that overtakes me. That man is built like a fucking brick wall and it makes my mouth run dry.

  “Why not let the lady decide?” Greg taunts. Mason’s eyes flare with anger, but as quickly as it came it’s gone. He takes a step back giving us space before he turns and heads toward the other end of the pool. Greg turns to me with a smile on his face. His hand comes up to capture my cheek, but I slap it away. I move quickly around him hearing the shit he’s talking behind my back, calling me a whore and tease as if I didn’t already know that. I ignore him and make my way toward Mason. He has stopped wading through the water and is standing with his hands resting on the edge of the pool, head dropped forward, shoulders stiff. When I get behind him, I run my hands up his back and over his shoulders, his head still doesn’t move. I massage his shoulders and neck, noticing how tense they are.

  “Go back to your boyfriend,” he growls low in his throat.

  “I don’t want to.”

  “That’s not what it looked like to me.”

  “Jealousy isn’t sexy on a man like you, Mason,” I tell him with a laugh. Mason slowly turns toward me, my hands roaming over his skin as he moves. By the time he faces me, his eyes are on fire. He looks down at me with so much emotion in his gaze.

  “Jealousy? That is somethin’ I’ve never felt before. This isn’t jealousy, Whitley.” My fingers trail over his tattoos, caressing the skull with the blue flames blazing from its eyes. I trace each letter of the words Soulless Bastards before Mason’s hand snaps up to capture my wrist. Jerking my eyes up to his, he’s damn near on fire. A slow burning inferno creeps its way to the surface and ignites between us.

  “What is it then?” I ask before I swallow hard.

  “You remind me of a past that I can never get back. Every time you look at me, there’s a flicker of hope. I don’t fuckin’ know why I see it in you. I didn’t see it before until it was too late,” he says as his voice cracks with emotion. I slip my free hand up his chest and rest it on the side of his neck.

  “Whatever you think you see in me, you’re wrong Mason. There is nothing in me. Nothing, Mason. I lost it all a very long time ago.”

  Shaking his head, he lowers it until his forehead is resting against mine. He breathes me in. “You’re wrong. I saw it that night in the alley. I saw it in the bar, and I see it now. Every goddamn time I look at you, it’s there. It’s like a fuckin’ flashin’ light tellin’ me I need to walk away before I ruin you too.”

  Without giving him a chance to respond, I press myself up and merge our lips. I kiss him roughly before his fingers release my wrist. My hands snake around his shoulders, as his go around my waist. Whatever this is between us, it’s hot as hell, but also very scary.

  Chapter 11

  Mason

  She reminds me of Briann. She looks at life like there isn’t anything more out there for her. That’s how Briann was at the end. She didn’t believe in anything anymore. It scares me to see that in Whit. She’s vibrant and outgoing, but she doesn’t see it. She sees a past that she can’t change and a future that doesn’t make any sense. I’ve always been good at reading people, and even I couldn’t predict what Briann had planned.

  It’s been two days. Two days of the most intense sex I’ve ever had. Whit has been her normal quirky self that I’ve come to know, but there is more to her than she lets anyone see. I want to see it.

  “Just stay by my side and don’t say shit unless they talk to you first. They’ll eye you like a piece of meat,” I warn her. Whit just nods and keeps her eyes forward. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was nervous. I reach over and wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her body against mine. Leaning down, I whisper in her ear, “No one is gonna touch you but me. If you feel cornered you tell me, yeah?”

  Whit swallows hard as the doors to the warehouse open. Men start filing in, but I don’t look away from her. I’m still waiting for her to answer me. When she doesn’t, I shake her a little. Her eyes come to meet mine, and I see a new fear in them. I wasn’t expecting that from her.

  “I got it. I’ll tell you. I’ll be fine. Just handle your business.”

  As I glance up I see Armando heading toward us. His eyes fall on Whitley. She’s wearing little denim shorts, a tank top that barely covers her, and combat boots. I can’t say that I don’t like the view myself. I can see just the right amount of skin to keep me curious and keep my cock hard as a fucking rock. I find myself intrigued by her colorful tattoos as well.

  “Mason, it’s good to see you again,” Armando says while extending his hand. I take it in mine, but his eyes never leave Whit.

  “Stop eyein’ my piece of ass. We have business to discuss,” I remind him. His gaze snaps to mine as a smirk slowly crosses his face.

  “Yours? Since when do you have a woman? As I recall, you’ve never brought a woman to a meet,” he comments. Pulling my hand free, I put it back around Whitley’s waist.

  “Well, I did today. We need to talk. Viking wants a ten percent drop in your fees. Your Port Authority shit is getting’ to be a problem,” I tell him. Armando nods his head before slipping his gaze back to Whitley’s.

  “I think we can work something out.” Nodding at Whitley, I shake my head. My body becomes taut as Whit grins up at him. She steps out of my grasp and directly in front of him.

&nb
sp; “Did you want a little taste? I can play nicely as long as you give my boy what he needs,” she says seductively. I watch her closely, the way she moves and holds herself.

  Armando raises his fingers to her cheek, trailing them along her jaw to lift her head. She beams up at him before he leans down pressing his lips to hers. It shouldn’t piss me off the way it does and I sure as shit shouldn’t feel like ripping his goddamn heart out and handing it to him either, but I do. My hands clench at my sides as I watch him kiss her. When she returns his kiss, my insides nearly explode. What the ever loving fuck is happening to me? This can’t possibly be because of Briann. I might see similarities between them, but Whit is way different. When Armando pulls away he grins at me.

  “Twenty percent off this one and the next three.”

  “What the fuck do you want in return?” I growl.

  “Her for the afternoon,” he says simply.

  “Not happenin’.”

  “Well then, no deal.” His hand falls away from Whitley as my body locks up even tighter.

  “Its fine, Mason. I can hang out with him for the afternoon,” Whitley says as she looks over her shoulder at me. I shake my head, but she wiggles her eyebrows up and down.

  “Give us a minute,” I tell Armando. He nods his head before I grab Whitley’s hand and drag her backwards. She stumbles over her own feet before righting herself. Her hands land on her hips and her eyes are dancing with anger.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? You hired me for a reason,” she snaps while pointing out the obvious.

  “I didn’t hire you to fuck the goddamn Columbian mob. Do you have any idea who this fucker is?” I snap at her in a hushed tone.

  “He wants to fuck. I don’t give a shit who he is.”

  “You should. He isn’t as sweet as some of us,” I warn her. Her eyes show the hint of a smile.

  “I’m an adult Mason. I can fuck whoever I want, remember? I get some dick and you get your discount. It’s a win-win. What’s the problem?” she asks me. She has a point, but I don’t want her fucking him. She wants some dick; she can have mine. She doesn’t need to get mixed up in the middle of Armando and his shit. That’s the last thing I had planned on when I brought her here.

  “Your job is to distract, Whit, not fuck. What part of that wasn’t made clear to you?” I hiss.

  “Fine, then tell him you don’t want the discount, but I’m still fucking him,” she says before tossing her hair over her shoulder and moving back toward him with a sway of her hips. My insides tighten as I watch the two of them. I don’t fucking like this. I don’t like where this is going, but who the fuck am I to tell her no?

  Armando looks up, catching my eye. He nods his head, wraps his hand around Whit, and walks her toward the door. I watch as they go, debating what the fuck I should do now. I don’t want her involved with him, but who the fuck am I to decide that for her? The door closes behind them, and I blow out a breath. Running my hand through my hair, I tug at the ends before walking to the other guys.

  “You ready to test this shit?” Jorge asks when I step up next to the crate.

  “Yeah. Let’s get this shit over with,” I answer him. Jorge cuts up some powder on a mirror in front of me as my mind races. This is a bad fucking idea, I can feel it deep within me. Letting her walk into her own torture. She doesn’t know him; she has no clue what she’s just agreed to. Fuck, she doesn’t know me either. That thought alone pisses me off.

  Jorge passes me a rolled up twenty. I snort a line, stand up, and give him a nod of approval. The rest of his guys move around us getting the product loaded into the trucks that will deliver this shit to Joe’s for us. Before I toss the bag of cash to Jorge, I unzip it and pull out twenty percent. I have no doubt he’s going to get his money’s worth from Whitley.

  Chapter 12

  Whitley

  I lay my head on the soft leather of the limo seat. After what just happened to me, this is the safest I’ve felt. I want to go home now. I want to go back in time. I want to change my entire reaction to Armando. I want to forget everything that just happened. I want to run away and hide, but I can’t do any of those things. I fucking asked for this. Not what they did specifically, but I did ask for it.

  I should have listened to Mason. I should have gone back to the hotel with him. As soon as the car rolls to a stop I wipe my face and swallow. I can’t let Mason see what happened to me. I can’t let him know how this affected me. The door opens, somehow I manage to sit up and climb out quickly. Armando didn’t even have the balls to drop me off himself. The door slams behind me right before an eight ball is shoved into my hands. I blink up at the man who drove me back, his face gives nothing away.

  Hurrying into the hotel, I shove the drugs into my pocket. At least those will come in handy to numb my mind later. Making my way to the elevator I feel disgusting. I feel like everyone in here can see what I’ve done. A shiver rolls down my spine as the door opens and I step inside. Pressing the button to our floor a woman watches me.

  “Are you alright dear? You look as if you’re about to cry,” she says sweetly. I nod my head and try to swallow back the tears.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” She doesn’t say anything after that. She nods once and waits for the doors to open. As soon as it hits my floor, I rush out of the elevator and bolt towards our room. Forgetting that I don’t have a key, I bang on the door. When Mason throws the door open his eyes meet mine.

  “You okay, Whit?” he asks. I nod once and walk past him going straight into the bathroom. I lock the door and pull the drugs from my pocket. I dump them on the counter as visions of what just happened haunt me, and not just what Armando did to me, but my past as well. It all begins to consume me as I grab a dollar bill and roll it up quickly. I snort line after line of that glorious white powder. When I can’t feel anything else, I turn on the shower and step in clothes and all. I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. Everything seems kinda fuzzy and blurry. The effects of the drugs are sweeping through me now. I giggle a little before I slide down the wall of the shower and end up on my ass.

  “Whit! Open the goddamn door!” Mason yells. I can’t move, my limbs are numb and my head definitely isn’t in the right place. It’s like I’m not even here right now. I’m floating and it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. It’s fucking perfection. I never want this to end.

  “Whitley, what are you doing here?” my mom’s voice asks me. Where is she? She isn’t here. “Oh Whitley, what have you been doing to yourself?” My chest tightens as I turn and see her standing in front of me.

  “Mom, how are you here?” I ask her softly. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek as her thumb caresses my face.

  “I’m not there. You’re here Whit. You aren’t supposed to be here. What are you doing to yourself? You have to stop this Whitley. Nothing can fix what happened to you, and none of this is helping,” she says as tears stream down her face.

  “I can’t take it anymore mom. I tried. I really fucking tried. Using it to my advantage has always worked until him! He did things to me. So much like what happened in the past. It hurts so bad, mom,” I cry as I throw myself into her arms.

  “I know it does, baby, but you have to move on. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. You can become anything you want to be. Not this. This isn’t you, Whitley. You can’t stay here,” she says sadly.

  “I want to. I want to stay with you mom. I’ve always wanted to stay with you. I’ve tried so many times to get to you, but every time I get close someone interferes,” the more I say it the more agitated I become.

  “That’s because it wasn’t your time yet, Whitley. Just like now isn’t your time either. You can’t stay here, you have to go back,” she says again breaking my heart into a million pieces.

  “Don’t make me go back! Please mom? Don’t make me go back.”

  The sound of splintering wood could be heard for miles, but it’s all too close to me. I can’t open my eyes as I float in a world of c
old nothingness.

  “Whitley! What the fuck? What did he do to you? What did you take?” Mason’s voice is so clear, yet I can’t seem to respond to him. His hands are on me shaking me. “Wake up, Whitley. Don’t you fuckin’ do this to me,” he roars. I can vaguely hear him on his phone, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. My heart is breaking again, and my head is screaming.

  Nothing is ever going to be the same again. Nothing can take this pain away. Why did I try? Why did I think that fucking anything with a dick could possibly ease the ache in my chest? Why did I think it could ease the fears that tug me deep down into the depths of hell?

  “Goddamn it, Whitley!” Mason screams again. My body is being jerked in so many directions that I don’t know where I am anymore.

  And for once, I’m at peace with that.

  Chapter 13

  Mason

  I left her in that hospital two months ago. I couldn’t fucking face her after that. She did what she did for me, and for my club. I left the money in an envelope with the nurse at the hospital for her, so at least she got paid. I’ve tried to keep myself separate from this issue. She tried to kill herself in the motel bathroom and I will never forgive myself for being the reason behind it. I still don’t know what the hell happened with Armando. I don’t know what he did to break her, but that’s exactly what happened. He broke her.

  “You still hung up on that shit?” Axle asks as he sits down next to me.

  “I just don’t fuckin’ get it, man. She was good when we got there.” Shaking my head, I don’t want to think about this, and I damn sure don’t want to talk about it anymore. I want the fucking memory of what I did to go the fuck away, but it won’t. My goddamn dreams are haunted by visions of her.

  “It’s been months, brother. Why don’t you just go see her?” he asks.