Bossy Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

by J. L. Perry

  “Why don’t you just admit that you like her? I saw your reaction when she didn’t show up with Carla last night. And the fact that you ran off to get her a few minutes later speaks volumes. I’ve never seen you chase after anyone before. Not even—”

  “Don’t even mention her name,” I say, holding up my hand. “I just… forget it.” He laughs at my lame reply. Asshole. “What’s going on with you and Carla?” I’m curious to know how he feels about her. I saw them together last night, and she’s more than a fuck to him.

  “We’re just having fun.”

  “Right,” I scoff. “And you say I have lover balls.”

  “I like her… a lot. At least I’m not afraid to admit it.”

  I shrug. “Whatever. Can you ask her where she got that Key lime pie from?”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was the best one I’ve ever had.”

  “Red made it.”

  “She did?”

  “Yep. You should ask her to make one for you.”

  Maybe I will.

  “So, I’ve been thinking,” I say.

  “That could be dangerous.”

  “Very funny. We should look into buying the apartment complex the girls live in.”

  His eyes leave the road briefly, darting to me. “Why the fuck would we buy that?”

  “So, we can fix it up a bit, make it safer for them.”

  “Let me get this straight, you want to buy the building to make it safer?”

  “Yes, do you have a problem with that? When I went to pick Emma up for the barbecue, I saw two guys doing a drug deal on the corner of their street. And last night when I dropped her home, a homeless guy was sleeping under the staircase. There’s no security gate, cameras… nothing. Don’t you worry about Carla living there?”

  “Carla can handle herself. She’s got some kick-ass ninja skills.”

  “Ninja skills,” I scoff. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m dead serious, man. She gave me a demonstration the other night… she put me on my ass.”

  I laugh. I would pay good money to see that. “Well, I doubt Emma could defend herself, she’s easy prey. She put money in that homeless guy’s pocket last night and told me she feeds him… often.”

  “She’s got a big heart, that one.”

  “She’s so busy being all sweet and shit, she probably wouldn’t even know she was in danger until it was too late.”

  “Is their building even for sale?”

  “I have no idea, but I bet if we made them an offer too good to refuse, they’d sell it to us.”

  “You have it bad,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re willing to pay more for a building that’s of absolutely no use to us, just to keep the girls safe?”

  My gaze moves back out the window. I’m just looking out for a friend, that’s all. “You can’t put a price on safety, Gray.”

  “Well, if you ask me, it’s a stupid idea, but if it’ll make you happy, I’ll go along with it.”

  “Thank you. I’ll get Amber to look into it first thing Monday.”

  It’s mid-afternoon by the time we leave Grayson’s family home. His mom insisted we stay for lunch. I love his family. Being around them today brought back a lot of old memories. I spent so much time with them growing up. His life was tough, but I still envied him at times.

  I don’t doubt my parents love me, but we’ve never had a close family bond. I spent more time with their staff than I did with them.

  I wanted what he had.

  Pulling out my phone, I check to see if there’s any word from Emma. I’m disappointed when I see there isn’t.

  I type out a message hoping to get a reply, even if it’s a shitty one. Any interaction from her is better than none at all.

  Grayson’s right, I do have it bad.

  My ridiculously hot friend: Just being a good friend and checking in to see how you’re feeling, especially after the unfortunate loss you suffered last night.

  I laugh to myself when I press send. It’s childish and preposterous, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying our banter.

  “What’s so funny?” Grayson asks.

  I see three dots dancing on the screen, and it excites me.

  “I’m just texting Emma. I stole her vibrator last night and then ran over it with my car.”

  “You did what?”

  Before I get a chance to answer him, her text comes through.

  I hold my hand up to him while I read her message.

  Sweet-thing: You know what they say, easy come easy go. I’ve moved on already.

  Her reply surprises me.

  My ridiculously hot friend: Glad to hear that. You know I’m here if you need me. ;)

  Sweet-thing: Thanks for the offer, but I made a detour on the way home from the shelter and took care of it.

  What the hell does that even mean? My fingers move a hundred miles an hour as I type a reply.

  My ridiculously hot friend: What the fuck, Emma!!!!

  Sweet-thing: Meet my new friend… his name is Elijah.

  She attaches an image of a large black, eight-inch silicone cock. It immediately gets my back up. Surely, she’s just fucking with me. She probably got that image off Google just to piss me off. Yeah, that’s exactly what she did.

  My ridiculously hot friend: Nice try. That’s not yours.

  Sweet-thing: Yeah it is. What’s that saying again… once you go black you never go back? ;)

  She attaches a screenshot of a receipt.

  Pleasure Island.

  18426 Hawthorne Blvd.

  Torrance.

  It has today’s date on it. Fuck!

  My ridiculously hot friend: I forbid you to use that. Your orgasms belong to me, remember?

  Sweet-thing: You don’t own me or my orgasms Mr. Bossy-boots. Besides, you’re too late. I’m taking him for a test run right now. Oh God, he feels sooo good! *insert moaning here.

  My ridiculously hot friend: You better be fucking with me right now.

  Sweet-thing: Actually, I’m fucking Elijah. Haven’t you been paying attention?

  My good mood dissipates instantly. I’m going to implode, especially once I read the next message.

  Sweet-thing: “Oh, that’s it, big-boy, just like that. Give it to me harder. Yes… God, yes, that feels so good.”

  Her reply may infuriate me, but my cock goes rock hard. I want to hear her scream exactly that while I’m buried deep inside her.

  I’m positive she’s messing with me. Can you even text and rub one out at the same time? I doubt it.

  I dial her number and growl with frustrations when it goes straight to voicemail.

  “Fuck.”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I exhale a long breath as I try to calm myself.

  I’m pitiful.

  I’m raging over a woman and her sex toy.

  “What?” Grayson asks. “Is every okay?”

  “No, everything’s shit.”

  “Why?”

  “Emma bought another vibrator, and she’s testing it out as we speak.”

  He throws back his head and roars with laughter.

  Prick.

  “Touché, Red, touché,” he says.

  Chapter Twelve

  EMMA

  “This is so much fun,” Carla squeals, handing me back my phone. I gasp the moment I read her reply. “Oh, that’s it, big-boy, just like that. Give it to me harder. Yes… God, yes, that feels so good.”

  “Jesus, Carla.” I feel my cheeks heat. “You didn’t?”

  The smile on her face grows. “I so did.”

  I jump when my phone rings. I swear my heart stops beating when I see, ‘My ridiculously hot friend,’ flashing on the screen.

  “Shit, he’s calling me.”

  “Send it to voicemail.”

  My hands are shaking as I quickly do just that. I place my phone on the table, burying my face in my hands. How did I get myself into this mess? I should’ve never stopped off and bought another vibrator.
I only did it because I was angry with him. He had no right to invade my privacy or demand that he owns all my future orgasms. Although there’s something very appealing about that prospect.

  My phone starts ringing again, and Carla laughs as she reaches across, sending it to voicemail once more. Seconds later, another text comes through.

  My ridiculously hot friend: I demand you answer my calls, Emma! I’m not joking.

  Where does he get off bossing me around like that?

  “Ignore him,” Carla says.

  A minute later, another message comes through.

  My ridiculously hot friend: Fine, you want to play it like that. I’m coming over.

  “Shit, he’s on his way to our building.”

  Carla laughs. “Well, he’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

  Luckily I’m not at my apartment. After stopping off at the adult store, which was horrendous, I might add—the first and last time I ever do something so brash—I met up with Carla for a late lunch before she heads to work. She’s doing an all-nighter at the bar and will sleep most of tomorrow.

  My stomach churns as the waitress comes over to take our order. What if he’s still there, waiting for me when I get home?

  “I’ll have a double cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate shake,” Carla says.

  Hmm, that sounds yummy, but I can’t have the same. That one meal alone far exceeds my entire calorie count for the day. It’s Saturday, but not Sinful-Saturday.

  The waitress turns her attention to me. I glance at the menu in front of me, even though I already know what I’m ordering. “I’ll have a chicken caesar salad, please… oh, and a diet coke.”

  I blow out a puff of air when the waitress walks away. “What am I going to do, Car?”

  “Do you want my honest opinion?”

  “No, I want you to lie to me,” I say sarcastically.

  “It’s simple. Take him up on his offer… give him all your orgasms.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why.”

  “Let me guess, Kyle Sanders,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Listen, Em…” She reaches for my hand across the table. “You know I’d never force you into doing anything you’re not comfortable with, but seriously, it’s time to let your past go. You’ve given that fuckwit and his little-boy dick way too much of your life. You’re not in high school anymore, babe. He’s taken enough of you already. Sure, Ashton is hot, but he’s not Kyle. You’re a grown-ass woman, live like one. Take life by the horns and ride that hottie’s face like your life depends on it. Don’t look at it as any more than a good time. If you go into this without any expectations, you’re not going to get hurt. Enjoy it for what it is. Two consenting adults relishing in each other’s bodies. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is, Em. Strip out of your clothes, spread those ridiculously long legs of yours, and say, ‘Come and get it, big-boy.’”

  We both burst out laughing. She has such a way with words.

  “Think about it, babe. He’s gorgeous, like ridiculously hot, and from what little Grayson has told me about him, he’s mega-rich.”

  “Money means nothing to me,” I say.

  “I know, but you’re missing the point here. He could have any woman he wants, but he wants you.”

  I sit there and ponder Carla’s advice as we wait for our food to arrive. She’s right about one thing. I have let my past dictate my future. For once, I’d just like to let all my baggage go, even for a moment, and experience all the things I’ve been missing out on.

  Like mind-blowing orgasms.

  It’s not like I want to marry him. Would it hurt to give into my deep-seated desires? If he can make love anything like he can kiss, it would be mind-blowing.

  I’m pulled from my thoughts when my phone dings again.

  My ridiculously hot friend: I swear to God, Emma. Open this damn door. You better not be in post-orgasmic slumber from that fake silicone fucker.

  “Oh my God,” I say, placing my hand over my mouth to muffle my giggle.

  Carla snatches the phone out of my hand and laughs when she reads the latest message. She instantly starts typing a reply.

  “Show me what you’re writing before you send it this time.” I don’t want to make things worse than they already are.

  “Oops. Too late,” she says before handing back the phone to me.

  Sweet-thing: Sorry, I can’t let you in because I’m not home. I’m out buying new batteries. Lots and lots of batteries. Poor Elijah… I must have worn that fake silicone fucker out.

  I can’t take it back now, it’s already been sent and read.

  Shit.

  I do the only thing I can, I laugh.

  It’s been a long week. I’ve had no contact with Ashton—nothing, no messages or phone calls. When I finally got back to my apartment after my late lunch with Carla, he’d left. And I haven’t heard from him since. To say that bothers me is an understatement. I even thought about sending him an apology for taking things too far, but in the end, I decided against it. He started this silly game in the first place.

  Today, it’s Sinful-Saturday.

  I park Kitty around the corner from ‘For Heaven’s Cake.’ That’s the name of the bakery I get my Jelly donuts from. The irony that I go to heaven to commit my first sin for the day once a month is not lost on me.

  I arrived a little earlier than usual, but as I drove down the street looking for a parking space, I noticed the long line already forming.

  After my mishap with Ashton last month, I’m eager to get my jelly-donut fix. I can’t believe it was four weeks ago today when we met. Part of me hopes I’ll run into him again, but I know that’s not going to happen. I had my chance with him, and I blew it. It’s funny, I fought him the entire way, but now that the opportunity’s gone, I’m kicking myself. I want to bask in all the amazing orgasms he offered to give me.

  My head is cast downward as I round the corner and make my way toward the end of the line. I don’t get far when I hear a deep voice clear their throat. My eyes shoot up, and there standing before me is the object of my thoughts.

  “Still not watching where you’re going, I see,” he says, smiling. “I thought you would’ve learned your lesson last time, sweet-thing.”

  I stand there for a moment, shell-shocked. What is he doing here? And why does he have a mountain of white pastry boxes in his hand?

  “Hi,” I breathe, trying to hold back the smile that threatens to burst onto my face. It’s so good to see him.

  “Hi.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “Someone told me how delicious the jelly donuts are here, so I thought I better check them out for myself.” He raises the boxes in his hand as he speaks.

  “That’s an awful lot, are you having a party or something?”

  “Or something,” he says.

  We stand there in silence for a moment, possibly longer, staring at each other. All those familiar feelings I get when he’s near come bubbling to the surface.

  My hands fiddle at my sides as I think of something to say. “Well, I probably should line up before they sell out.”

  No, that’s not it. Tell him you want orgasms.

  “Unfortunately, they’ve already sold out of the jelly ones.” Ashton raises the boxes again.

  “You bought all the jelly donuts?”

  “Every single one.” My eyes narrow. How could he? “Before you get pissed at me, Em, I bought them for you.” He extends the boxes toward me.

  “You bought them all for me?”

  “Yes, but there’s a condition.”

  “Of course, there is,” I grumble.

  “Can we go somewhere and maybe get a coffee?”

  “To discuss your condition?”

  “No, that’s my condition,” he says. “I just want to spend some time with you.”

  “You do?” That surprises me. I
was certain his conditions would include delicious orgasms.

  A girl can dream.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes. Are you saying you haven’t missed me?”

  I fight a smile as I try to think of a clever reply, but I come up with nothing. The truth is I have missed him.

  “I’ve been busy,” I say, shrugging.

  “With Elijah?” His brows furrow, making me laugh.

  “Yeah, he’s been occupying a lot of my time,” I lie. He’s still sitting unused inside the box he came in.

  My grin widens when he growls. “You know that fucker is going to die a slow, painful death when I get my hands on him, right?”

  “You’ll have to get your hands on him first,” I tease.

  “You can count on it. Enjoy him while you can, sweet-thing, because his death is imminent.”

  “I intend to,” I say with a wink. “Shall we go get some coffee, then?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  ASHTON

  That was easier than I anticipated. I’ve spent the last few days thinking up ways to convince her to spend time with me, and buying all the donuts was the best solution in the end. Some leverage or bribing material. I know for a fact she waits an entire month for one of those donuts, and if they all happen to be in my possession, well, it was a no brainer.

  Emma swipes the box on top, opening the lid to peer inside. “Why don’t you give the other four boxes to the people in the line?” she says. “There’s a dozen in here, and that’s more than enough for us.”

  Following her advice, I hand the leftovers to a man in line. I never intended to eat them anyway. The three hundred dollars I spent to get some one-on-one time with Emma was worth it. I’d buy the entire store if need be.

  Coming back to stand beside her, I reach for her free hand. She doesn’t pull away, but there’s uncertainty in her eyes when they meet mine. “Friends hold hands, Em,” I remind her as we start walking. “So, where do you want to go?”