Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel

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Smug Bastard: A Hero Club Novel Page 12

by Stacey Marie Brown


  He pulled his hand away, putting his fingers in his mouth and sucking me off them. “You taste so fucking good.” He grunted, looking almost angry.

  I stared at him, my muscles trembling, trying to catch my breath. His gaze tracked down my body, his head shaking.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, like he just realized what he did. “This shouldn’t have happened… You are the last thing I need or want right now. Especially you of all people…”

  “What?” I still grappled for air, my high dipping. “What does that mean?”

  He shoved back off me, his cock so hard and thick I could see it throbbing against the soft cotton.

  “I don’t want Kasey… and I can’t have you. I’m trapped,” he snarled, running a hand through his hair, blowing out in exasperation. “This can’t happen again. I am not a good man. I’m fucked up… You need to hate me.” In a blink, he jumped off the bed and was gone, Goat whimpering at his sudden exit.

  My nerves and skin were still tingling with bliss as my stomach pitched in a nosedive.

  What the hell just happened?

  Confusion at the roller coaster this night had been, the pleasure coursing through my veins flipped into pure anger, sobering me up.

  This shouldn’t have happened. You are the last thing I need or want right now. Especially you…

  Humiliation turned my blood icy hot.

  He wanted me to hate him?

  Done.

  Chapter 14

  Smith

  Hell. I was in it. Some level of Dante’s inferno, mostly of my own doing. What was even more disturbing was I free to leave at any time…

  And I didn’t.

  Staring out the window watching the landscape roll past the window, nothing took my attention away from the tension in the car emanating from the driver’s seat.

  Two days. The entire state of Texas had been like a climax of a horror film but set on a loop, waiting for the murderer to jump out, the music shrill, the anticipation shredding at your nerves. Yet it simply circled around and round with no resolution. The strain and unsaid friction screamed through the air, and even when we tried to make small talk, it layered underneath, embedding in every nuance.

  She barely talked to me, but we continued our journey, orbiting around each other like planets, our routine seamless like a well-rehearsed play, but under the scripted dialogue was a whole universe of animosity, turbulence, and hate…

  Just like I said I wanted.

  Touching her was never supposed to happen. I hated myself, but not for the reason I should have. Remembering where my fingers had been hadn’t knocked sense back into my head, reminding me who she was. Baby K. Kyle’s little sister. No, if anything it did the exact opposite. My cock let me know constantly. I also felt like we were on some painful cycle with no release in sight, no matter how I tried to ease my endless blue balls. They wanted the real thing and were as stubborn as the girl sitting next to me.

  The moment I walked away from her that night, my body screamed to turn my ass around, but my head kept stepping in, showing me all the reasons why I couldn’t.

  My life was a mess. Beyond convoluted. Kinsley knew Becca existed, but she had no idea the truth of my situation. The dark secrets I kept hidden.

  Standing in the dark, my dick throbbing painfully for the girl I had walked away from, my phone beeped with more messages from both Kasey and Becca, drawing me back to reality.

  I had been set on leaving the next morning. Packed, note written, wanting to escape before she woke up. Ending the temptation and taking myself out of the situation. Giving her what she probably wanted from the start.

  Me gone. To continue her trip as she had always planned on.

  But I didn’t. Instead, I made coffee and took Goat on a walk.

  Four times the goodbye was on my tongue, my bag ready to go, but I found reasons to stay. Painfully obvious ones, which even made me cringe. Most having to do with her being alone, going to bars, men taking advantage of a smoking hot girl by herself.

  Kinsley was strong and feisty, but I knew better than anyone if a few wanted something, feisty didn’t stop them from taking it, no matter how safe she tried to be. Plus, the girl was going to bypass New Orleans, staying on Route 66, heading north. Right there I knew I had to stay. No one could skip The Big Easy. It had to be against the law.

  When I left Rhode Island, I had no idea where I was headed. New Orleans was supposed to be a pit stop. I stayed there for six months before moving on.

  “Where is this dog boarding place again?” Kinsley’s stiff voice broke through my thoughts, jerking my head to her. Her mouth pinched, a hint of a snarl that had been on her face since Santa Fe deepened slightly.

  I’d talked her into boarding Goat so she could actually experience and see the city for a few days without worrying about him. And I just happened to have a connection to one of the best dog babysitters in the city. New Orleans was a big/little city, teeming with thousands of tourists and locals. But when you lived there, the city was small with a large heart. The degrees of separation here were less than six, everyone knowing everyone somehow, and all were in your business. When I lived there, I whittled that number down, especially with the women, my reputation getting around, though it seemed to bring them to me not scare them off.

  “It’s not some torture camp. Goat will be spoiled to death. Believe me, he’ll be sleeping on a bed and eating steak, knowing Angie.”

  “Oh right. You know the woman who owns it.” She lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know Angie again?” She kept her head forward, but her tone tightened over her name, causing a smile to twitch at my mouth.

  “Someone jealous?”

  “Please.” Kinsley snorted, glowering over at me before changing lanes. “Not even close. Just wanted to know if I should board you as well. Sounds like you might have been sleeping on her bed and getting tummy rubs too.”

  Definitely jealous.

  Jealousy was not a quality I usually liked in women, since I tended to keep things light. Besides Becca, I had never committed to one. I was always honest up front, but women tended not to listen, hoping they’d be the one to tame me. Only one had, and I had learned my lesson. Never again.

  So why did Kinsley’s green monster make my chest fill with a thrill? Shit, I liked it too much.

  Snarling at myself, I turned back to the window.

  “Ahhh.” She clicked her tongue. “Not just your tummy got rubbed.”

  “Nope.” I shot back, my anger lashing at her, needing her to be clear where we stood. But I knew it was me who needed to make sure the line was there. “And she deserves her high ratings.”

  “Ewww.” She shuddered.

  Following my directions, Kinsley pulled up to the familiar light gray-and-yellow Creole cottage on the edge of the city. Angie’s outside lot was double the normal for this area, giving the dogs room to run and play outside. The sign for her business had changed, but nothing else had. The paint was still chipping on the yellow shutters, the colorful roses still blooming wildly along the front.

  Stepping from the van, the sound of dogs barking in the house and in the backyard rose to my ears. I inhaled deeply, the same thick air sticking in my lungs. New Orleans had a smell. A mix of sweet, spicy, and decay. Like the costumes, feathers, masks, and glitter, they covered up the death and rotting underneath. Rich spices from Creole dishes being cooked down the street filled the sticky, hot air, tapping my nostalgia. I loved this city and had almost stayed.

  The screen door squeaked and banged, the reason I left standing on the top step.

  “Well, well…” Angie folded her arms. “Never thought I’d see you back on my front stoop again.”

  “Hey, Ang.” My gaze ran over her. “It’s been a while.”

  “Over eight years.” She tipped her head. The last time I saw her it was long, and she kept her wild hair in braids most of the time. Now her naturally curly dark hair was chin length.

  “You haven’t changed a bit.” Besides
her hair, she hadn’t, defying the natural aging process. The woman was still as stunning as I remembered. Older by ten years, her flawless black skin still looked as creamy and silky as I remembered. High cheekbones and a curvy body I knew very intimately at one time hadn’t altered a bit either.

  The sex between us had been wild and intense, consuming my eighteen-year-old brain, but after three months of screwing each other, I knew I had to leave. She wanted to be exclusive. I didn’t want anything holding me down.

  Young and selfish, I took off without a word. Though she always knew it was a possibility since I stayed far longer than I thought. It was still a dick move.

  “You have.” She took a step down, her bare toes rubbing the peeling paint on the white steps, her arms crossed, her tank stretching over her voluptuous breasts. “You are no longer a boy.” She shook her head. “Is it possible, you bastard, you got even sexier?” A smile took over her mouth, lighting up her face as she moved to me, wrapping her arms around me, hugging me tightly with an intimacy of those who knew each other very well. “So good to see you, Smith.” She leaned back, still holding on to me, her eyes raking down my physique. “I almost thought I imagined your call on my voice mail. Couldn’t believe it was you.”

  “It’s me.” I swallowed, feeling eyes burning into the back of my head, sizzling my spine like a marshmallow on a stick. Kinsley’s attention on us thrummed on my skin.

  “Over the years, I’ve thought about you a lot… but the other night I dreamed you came to me again… and the next day you called.” Angie lifted her eyebrow. Like so many here, her grandmother was a voodoo priestess. Angie had told me the magic ran in her blood, and besides communicating with ghosts, she sometimes had dreams or visions of things before they happened. “You are still the best I’ve ever had, Smith. I hoped someday you would knock on my door again,” she said boldly. Angie was never one to filter her thoughts or needs. She had taught me a lot during our time together.

  “Yeah, he seems to have fan clubs all over the world.” Kinsley stepped up, Goat snuggling between us. “Do I need to board more than my dog?”

  I dropped away from Angie, stepping back quickly, my hand going to Goat, rumpling the fur on his head. Angie picked up on my reaction, her powerful gaze sliding slowly from me to Kinsley. There was no cattiness. Angie wasn’t like that, but I felt her eyes peel back layers, seeing more than I wanted.

  “Now I understand.” She nodded to herself.

  “Understand what?” Kinsley asked.

  “Another part of my dream. It all is clear now.” Angie stared at Kinsley, a perceptive smile hinting on her mouth before her attention jumped to me. “Oh Smith… you are so fucked.”

  My chest tightened, understanding her meaning.

  “Karma, my beautiful boy. This one will level you.”

  “One already did,” I muttered.

  “No, you thought it did. But soon you will understand the difference.” An expression full of pity softened her eyes. In a blink it was gone. Angie clapped her hands. “So, is this the sweetie I get the honor of spoiling for a few days?” She lowered to Goat, holding out her hand for him to come to her. He sniffed her hand, probably smelling the delicious food she made from scratch for all her dogs. Goat licked it, nuzzling into her palm.

  “You are so sweet. Been hurt in the past I can tell, but he is a happy soul.” She cooed at Goat, making his butt wiggle happily. He still peered back at Kinsley as if he was asking permission from his mommy, but Angie had a special aura. People, animals, spirits… they all went to her like a magnet.

  “He’s afraid of men…” Kinsley stepped protectively to Goat. “Well, except this asshole.” She thumbed over to me. “Maybe something is wrong with my dog. Do you think you could check for brain damage? I mean, he instantly liked him. That’s a sure sign, right?”

  Angie’s head fell back, laughing as she rose up. “I like her.” Angie winked playfully at me, causing me to grumble under my breath.

  “I have learned,” Angie sighed, a slight sadness drifting through her eyes, “that Smith has the knack for making anything with a pulse lose all sense.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Kinsley said so low I thought I imagined it. She kept her eyes on the ground, tucking hair behind her ear. The simple move had me staring at her exposed throat, the trickle of sweat gliding down her neck.

  A noise from Angie whipped my head back. She tried to fight back her shit-eating grin, her eyes glinting at catching me. Her head shaking with more pity for me. I grunted under my breath, and she smiled wider.

  “I will take very good care of your baby. Don’t worry. Call anytime, but I will send you updates and pictures throughout the day. He will be happy, I promise.” Angie reached out for Goat’s leash. Kinsley hesitated. I knew this wasn’t easy for her. She had never left Goat. Hell, I was going to miss the fluff ball, and I had only known him for a little over a week.

  “We can keep him with us, but I know he’ll be happy with Ang.”

  “I know.” Kinsley nodded and inhaled, handing the leash over. She dropped the bag off her shoulder full of his treats, toys, and food at Angie’s feet. “He’ll be better-off here than being stuck in a hotel room.” She leaned over, petting and kissing him, muttering in his ear. Quickly, she bit her lip, turned, and headed for the van, probably before she could change her mind.

  I rubbed his fur. Big brown eyes peered up at me like I was abandoning him, his tongue licking my hand. “We’ll be back, little man.” Shit, this guy was ripping out my heart.

  Angie pulled out a treat, distracting Goat.

  “Thank you, Angie.” I curved in Kinsley’s direction.

  “You hurt me.”

  Fuck. I knew this was coming. Rubbing my head, I exhaled, my head bobbing. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  “I should have known better. You were so young; I knew you wouldn’t stay.” She licked her lips peering away. “And even with all my insight and intuition… I still hoped. I did love you, Smith. Even when I knew you’d never be mine.”

  I flinched, hating I had hurt her but knowing I wouldn’t have changed anything.

  “It’s okay. I was meant to merely be a stop in your life. Your journey had barely started.”

  “Just know you were an incredible stop.” All the women I had been with after really should have been thanking her. “Best teacher any man could possibly hope for.”

  She grinned as her eyes watered.

  “Thank you.”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” I squeezed her hand. “I’ve grown up a lot since.”

  “I can see.” I knew she didn’t just mean physically. “You have been through a lot in the last years. You didn’t deserve it. I am sorry.”

  “Shit! You know I hate when you do your voodoo stuff. Is that what is keeping you from aging?”

  “That and having sex with much younger men.” She winked, her face going serious again, flicking her chin at me. “It’s not hard to see if you are really looking.” Goat moved restlessly, returning her attention to the most important one here. “Call me when you are ready to get him.” She tugged on his collar, herding him for the house.

  “Thanks again.” I turned, strolling for the van.

  “Hey, Smith?”

  I turned at her call; she stood on the porch, Goat at her side. “Don’t let your past control your future. If you run this time, you will never find your way back.”

  She walked into the house before I could respond, but in the heat, I felt a chill shiver down my spine.

  Checking into our hotel, our rooms across the hall from each other in the beautiful Creole-style townhouse, I recalled how much I loved this city. Flowers twisted in the ironwork, the courtyard in the middle teemed with plants and a water feature, setting up a serene place to have coffee in the morning. I tossed my stuff in the room, anxious to get Kinsley out in my old city.

  Things were still tense, and not having Goat to put our attention on strained things even more. But the sights quickly enraptured her
to the point she forgot we hated each other, excitingly grabbing my arm when she spotted a famous site. The day was still early when I took her first to Garden District, then an early evening tour of the famous St. Louis Cemetery before we returned to the French Quarter.

  I could tell she was already enchanted by the city, her eyes glazed with excitement and amazement, her hips starting to curve and swing with the endless music breathing life through the town. Tomorrow I planned to spend the day in the Quarter enjoying the art and atmosphere, but the night was a different beast. The city held the seduction of magic—ghosts slipping by you, whispering in your ear—but at night, the spirits ruled, curling their fingers and enticing you to the dark and gritty. And you happily followed, allowing the seedy and forbidden desires to flutter to the surface.

  It could take years to show someone the secrets of this city—those places known only by locals or people like me who were lucky enough to have been shown the secret nightlife away from the typical tourist scene. Though even the tourist areas, except Bourbon Street, which could smell of vomit, piss, and stale beer and be stuffed with young drunk douchebags, were amazing places to discover.

  Showered and dressed in my one semi-good pair of dark jeans and black T-shirt, I ran a hand through my wet hair before heading across the hall.

  Buzzz.

  Not thinking, I hit the button on my phone. “Hello?”

  “Smith.” Her voice slithered in my ear and down my back like a snake, wrapping around my spine, taking me back in time. My feet stopped, my chest rising in defense. “You answered.”

  “Becca,” I replied without feeling.

  “God, it’s so good to hear your voice.” The familiarity of her sultry tone slapped weight against my lungs. How many nights had I heard it crying out my name in ecstasy? Now I wondered if any of it was real. “I’ve missed you so much.”

 

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