The Story Of Carnage: The Complete Carnage Collection: Books 1-5

by Lesley Jones

  He spins around so that George is facing us. She pulls herself slightly upright and waves her hand.

  “Good night, Kitten,” she slurs, then giggles, and then screams when Cam slaps her arse. We are all still watching as she buries her face in his jean-covered arse and bites it.

  “Ow. That fucking hurt.” We all laugh at that. The fact that skinny George is brave enough to do that to a big bloke like Cam amuses the rest of us.

  “Night. Love you all. See you for brunch tomorrow.”

  They retreat up the hallway to the sound of all of us remaining wishing them good night and thanking them for a great day and night.

  “You ready for bed, Mrs Reed. The boys are probably gonna be up in about two hours.”

  Nina already has her eyes closed. “You can deal with your sons in the morning. I’m staying in bed.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see. Come on, let’s go. Night, you two.”

  Conner’s wife is tiny, and he has no problem picking her up and carrying her out of the room.

  I pull Ash across my body so that she’s straddling me.

  “Where’d you want me to fuck you, baby?” I ask as she nuzzles into my neck.

  “Not up the arse, I didn’t bring any lube,” she mumbles. Making me chuckle.

  “Noted, but I meant did you have a room preference.” I continue to laugh.

  “Oh, soz,” Ash again mumbles, this time on a yawn. I slap her backside. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  I stand with her still wrapped around me like a monkey and make my way up to the room we’re staying in, making sure to bang on Georgia’s office door as we pass just to piss off my brother. That earns me a “fuck off” from both him and Jimmie, making Ash giggle into my neck.

  I throw her gently on the bed and know immediately that I’m gonna be shit out of luck if I was hoping to make love to my misses. She’s practically out cold already.

  I pull off my jeans and socks, then pull Ashley’s UGGs and jeans off. I chuckle at the knickers she has on underneath. They’re like a little pair of shorts in a baby blue colour. On the front is a rather raunchy looking Alice from Wonderland, winking and pointing down between my wife’s legs. Under the picture are the words: “Eat me.”

  I know it’s wrong to take advantage of her while she’s drunk, but fuck it! I blame Alice; she ordered me to do it. I lean forward and bury my face between Ashley’s legs and breathe her in at the same time as I reach inside my boxers and grip my dick.

  I plan to leave it at that, go to sleep with a hard-on and wait until my wife is cognizant and aware of the dirty things I’m doing to her. I might be a perv, but I’m not a fiend, after all. But then Ashley’s hands are in my hair, pressing into the back of my head, forcing my face down harder between her legs.

  “Take them off, Rock Star. Take off my knickers and fuck me with your tongue and fingers.” And because Marley loves Ash, I do exactly that.

  Within seconds, her underwear is off, my tongue is working her clit, and I’m curling two fingers inside her. I keep working at my dick with my free hand as Ash positions her legs so that they’re hanging over my shoulders, tilting her hips up into my face and giving me access to her tight little arsehole.

  Her knees press against my ears on either side of my head, her heels dig into my shoulders, and her hips gyrate up into my face.

  “Nearly there, baby.”

  “Wait for me,” I order. When I know I’m close, I slide two fingers inside her arse, her back immediately arches off the bed, her legs tighten around my head and shoulders, and her internal muscles grip my fingers as she groans. I push her legs away, sit up, and come all over pussy and lower belly.

  Her blue eyes shine up at me.

  “Thought you were tired?” I question.

  She grins back at me lazily.

  “Your hot mouth on my mildred woke me up.”

  We stare at each other in silence for a few long moments.

  “Love you, Baby, Merry Christmas.”

  “Love you, too, Rock Star. Thanks for the orgasm.”

  Georgia

  My head spins as Cam lays me on the bed and peels me out of my clothes.

  “Teeth,” I mumble.

  He pulls me up, slings me back over his shoulder, and carries me to the bathroom where he sits me beside the sink.

  He just has his boxers on, and I close one eye so that I can try to focus on his beautiful body and the way his muscles ripple and move.

  Cam will be sixty soon but has the physique of a man half his age. He works hard at it, and the results are evident for all to see.

  “You are so fucking hot, Mr Tiger Husband.”

  He chuckles as he passes me my toothbrush, now loaded with paste.

  I take it from him and begin brushing.

  “Mr Tiger Husband. That’s a new one.”

  “Yeah. Just made it up. You like it?”

  “You made it up, just for me? Then, of course, I love the fuck out of it. Spit.”

  I frown as I try to process what he just said.

  “Mt mo malmays ma mullow,” I attempt to talk around the mouthful of foam I’m now holding on to, smile, and then lean over and spit it into the sink.

  “What was that?” Cam asks, handing me a glass of water.

  I take it, rinse my mouth, and spit again.

  “You told me to spit, but you always tell me to swallow,” I explain.

  “I meant the toothpaste, Kitten. You spit the toothpaste but swallow my cum.”

  “Oh.” I laugh and then squeal as he picks me up and carries me back to bed.

  Cam helps me out of the rest of my clothes and then hands me one of his T-shirts to sleep in.

  We climb under the duvet, and he pulls my back into his front, my safe place.

  My thoughts are an erratic jumbled mess, and for some reason, memories of when my family had me sectioned jump to the front of my mind.

  “Thank you for a merry Christmas, Cameron. I’m glad I didn’t die and stayed alive to share all of this with you.”

  “Georgia, what the fuck?” I’m flipped to my back, his big body covers mine and his angry scowl darts all over my face.

  “What?” I question.

  “What d’ya mean you’re glad you didn’t die?”

  I shrug, and tears start to burn my eyes and nose.

  Letting out a deep sigh, I admit, “I thought about it almost every day until you came back into my life. As soon as I realised I’d never stopped loving you, you gave me a sense of purpose, a reason to get out of bed every day.” Tears are falling freely from my eyes now, running into my ears and over my neck.

  I feel tired and woozy. I just wanna go to sleep.

  “If I didn’t have you, I think I’d probably be dead,” I tell him honestly.

  “Don’t fucking talk like that, George. You found me. We found each other, and neither of us is going anywhere. Now go to sleep, I don’t wanna hear any more dying bullshit.”

  “There is no more dying bullshit, that’s exactly my point. It’s because of you. You saved me and I know it’s taken a lot longer than it should’ve but I’m there Cam, I’m finally there.”

  Thoughts and words are swirling around in my head, and I’m not sure if I’m speaking out loud or just thinking them.

  He once again repositions us, and the last thing I remember is my Tiger Husband kissing the top of my head and whispering, “You are the most complicated human being I have ever met, but I love the fuck outta you and wouldn’t change a thing. Merry Christmas.”

  That’s It For Now…

  But Keep Going For A Little

  Taste Of What’s Next…

  The Definition Of Insanity Coming in 2019 . . .

  Prologue

  PAIGE

  “It’s your sixteenth, Paige. Not your eighteenth, not your twenty-first, your sixteenth. You are not holding it in a nightclub.”

  I carried on walking towards my uncle’s office, ignoring my mother’s argument being shouted from somewhere
behind me as she tries to keep up.

  “Let’s just talk to Cam; there may be a way around this. Perhaps if she has it on a Sunday, or holds it in the VIP area with a strictly no alcohol policy in place? Although, I’m not sure if that’s even legal, so we’d have to check on that first.” I heard my aunt say to my mum, using a placating tone. If anyone can win my mum around, it’s Georgia.

  I stopped and turned around to face them as they walked across the empty nightclub towards me.

  “You’re so negative sometimes, Mum. Why can’t you be more like George? Instead of shutting down every suggestion I make, why can’t you at least try to see if it’s doable first?”

  “Don’t speak to your mother like that.”

  My eyebrows instinctively shoot up to my hairline at my aunt’s words. She is the coolest person I know and usually has my back, so I am a little surprised by her tone and feel my cheeks flush.

  “I’ll help make this happen if it’s legally possible but don’t be rude to your mum. Otherwise, you’ll be sitting at home on your Jack Jones for your sixteenth, or worse still, the whole family will drag you to The Harvester and make you spend it with us.”

  I fold my arms across my chest and glare between my mum and my aunt. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending my sixteenth birthday at The Harvester with my insane family. We’d probably end up getting thrown out . . . again.

  “I thought we were banned from The Harvester?” I question.

  “Weatherspoon’s then, we’re not banned from there,” my aunt snaps.

  “I think we are actually. Remember that time we popped in for a quick drink and that woman flashed her tits at Marley and Ash threw a bottle at her?”

  “You’re not helping, Jim.”

  I let out a loud huff, and they both look at me.

  “Jesus, this is like déjà vu. She looks exactly like you at that age,” my mum says quietly, my aunt smiling at her words.

  “It’s not fucking funny, George. You’re not the one that has to put up with her tantrums and meltdowns of Georgia proportions.”

  I just give a loud yawn. I’ve heard it all before.

  “Jim, you handled me just fine when we were fifteen, I’m sure you can handle her now that you’re a grown arse woman.”

  “Yeah, just like you handle Tallulah.”

  “I handle Lu just fine, and if I can’t, Cam does.”

  “Pfft, she has Cam wrapped around her little finger.”

  “Oh my god, are you two just gonna stand and argue all day?”

  “Shut up.” They tell me in unison.

  “And cover your mouth when you yawn. Did your mother teach you no manners?”

  My mum glares at my aunt, her mouth open in shock at her accusation.

  Giving another huff, I flick my hair over my shoulder, and stomp towards my uncle’s office, swinging the door open without bothering to knock.

  I stop in my tracks as soon as I realise there is someone in there with him.

  Cam is sitting back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and propped on his desk.

  The other person is a man, but I can only see his dark hair and his legs. He has the ankle of one resting on the knee of the other.

  They each have a short rounded glass containing an amber coloured liquid in their hands.

  Cam looks up, wide-eyed with surprise at first and then he gives me a smile.

  “Book, what you doing here?”

  My uncle tells the worst jokes ever. Because my name is Paige, he’s always called me Book, and he seriously thinks he’s funny. He’s not. And even when he is, I’m funnier.

  “All right, Queenie, how are you?” His surname is King, so my play on his name has always been to call him Queenie, which is actually funny, considering the size of the man. He’s big, like really big. Taller than my dad, my pops and my uncles and cousins. He has really wide shoulders, and I suppose you might call him good-looking in an old man kind of way . . . he must have something going for him anyway because my aunt married him, and she is beautiful. So beautiful that she was once married to a famous rock star.

  “Paige, you can’t just barge in there without knocking,” my mum calls from behind me. I turn and roll my eyes at her.

  G is pretty bad arse most of the time, except when she bangs on about being respectful to my mum. My mum has a stick up her arse most of the time though when it comes to manners, not swearing, pronouncing my words properly, knocking on closed doors before entering a room . . .

  I remember that I’ve come to ask my uncle a favour and turn to give him my sweetest, most innocent look, but the man that is sitting in the chair on my side of the desk has turned it to face me.

  My heart and my belly do this thing. It’s like they’ve somehow become tethered inside me. My belly tries to turn itself in knots, pulling my heart down into it. My heart attempts to escape and flies up through my chest, lodges in my throat and beats erratically.

  He stares at me with the bluest of eyes.

  I’m just fifteen years old, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that this grown man sitting in front of me is potentially going to be my first real-life crush and quite possibly, the love of my life.

  The Definition Of Insanity Coming in 2019 . . .

  Prologue

  Will

  “So you’re happy with all the changes, the new terms, expectations and package?”

  “Yeah, it all sounds good. Do I get a choice of car?”

  My boss cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes as he looks at me. My heart rate accelerates marginally.

  Cameron King is now somewhere in his late forties or early fifties, but he’s still an imposing and formidable force. Using the help of Google, I’d done some research. Despite the fact he was portrayed as a mild-mannered nightclub owner and businessman extraordinaire, happily married to his beautiful wife and devoted to his family, you could write a book about the things that bloke had supposedly gotten up to in his past. And I was man enough to admit, he scared the living fucking daylights out of me.

  “Will a Land Rover work for you?” He asks, a small twitch at the corner of his right eye the only indication that he's being just a little facetious.

  “Depends on the colour.”

  He raises his eyebrows and stares at me.

  Fuck, I hope he gets that I’m joking.

  I’ve been working for K.L.U.B for over six years. Out of all of the partners who owned the nightclub chain, I’d had more dealings with Cam King than any of the others, and right now I was just accepting a job working directly for him as South East of England area manager, looking after the K&K clubs in that area.

  “If I let you choose your own, will it stop you walking around with a face like a smacked arse?”

  My stomach churns as I think about the reason why I’m wearing the expression my new boss just described so eloquently.

  She was really doing it. My Sarah Sunshine was really gonna marry the Aussie fucker. I’d gotten the invite yesterday morning, making me want to vomit up my coffee.

  “Will?”

  “What?” I start as Cam calls my name and snap at him a little more harshly than I intend.

  “D’you want this job or a fat fucking lip? Coz you’re going the right way to get the latter.”

  “Sorry. Sorry, Cam. Of course I want the car…shit, the job. I mean the job. I definitely want the job and the cars great too. A Land Rover, wow, yeah, that’s great. Thanks.”

  “All right, you can shut the fuck up and stop brown nosing now. What’s wrong? The reason I’ve poached you for this role is that you’re always so switched on. Right now, I’m worried I’ve made a mistake and picked the wrong man for the job. So, I’ll ask again, what’s going on?”

  He stands as he speaks and proceeds to pour us both a bourbon from a bottle he’d taken from the small bar area in the corner of his office.

  “Nothing. It’s all good.”

  I like my boss, but that’s wh
at he is, my boss. I wasn’t about to get into a D&M with him and discuss the ‘the one that got away’.”

  He passes me my glass, sits down and stretches his long legs out, resting his feet up on the corner of his desk. He watches me the whole time, staring silently while tapping his index finger on his bottom lip as he does.

  “I’m not your mother or even your father for that matter, so I don’t need to know all the ins and outs of your business, but what I do require from my employees, is honesty. You don’t have to tell me what it is that’s obviously pissing you the fuck off right now, but don’t lie and tell me that it’s nothing.”

  I knock back everything in my glass. The bourbon warms my belly and makes my head spin slightly as I consider my response.

  Cameron King is a lot more perceptive than I gave him credit for. I suppose living life as an East End gangster, as he once did, being able to read people is essential to staying alive.

  “It’s a girl.” I stare into my now empty glass and confess. I have no one else I can talk to about this. Usually, it’d be Luke, but Sarah, the girl that has broken my heart, is his sister, and Liam, the Aussie fucker she’s going to marry is his business partner.

  I hear Cam let out a long sigh, before he stands, collects the bottle from the bar and places it between us on his desk.

  Without making eye contact with him, I top up both our glasses.

  “So a bird has got you all twisted up like this?”

  I finally look up and meet his eyes, nodding my head slowly as I do.

  “Not just any bird, the bird.”

  He nods in return, wiping his hand over his mouth and the salt and pepper beard on his chin.

  “What’s she done?”

  “Marrying some other fucker.”

  “That’d explain the face then.”

  “It would.”

  “Fucking hurts like nothing else. I know, I’ve been there.”

  “You have?”

  He nods his head, “and I’ve gotta say, you’re handling it a lot better than I did.”