Stout

by Georgia Cates

  She’s definitely bonny. I can’t debate that. “No woman is fit enough to put yourself on Dad’s and Abram’s shit lists.”

  He looks at the American as she bends over to pick up a napkin that blew off her serving tray. “I don’t know about that, buddy. Her bum is nice.”

  I watch her skirt ride almost up to the cheeks of her arse and then back down again when she stands. “She’s easy on the eyes, mate. I won’t argue that point but I can say with confidence that you’ve made a problem for yourself with the elders.”

  “If I get between those legs, it’ll be worth the fallout with Thane and Abram.”

  “Whatever.” Leith can’t be trusted to make the wisest decisions when it comes to The Fellowship. It’s a good thing he’s in charge of this bar and not within the inner circle where the big decisions are made. I’m certain Dad and Abram wouldn’t put up with his bullshit.

  The American lass passes by our table on the way back to her pouring station. Leith reaches out to catch her around the waist. “Come here. I want you to meet my other best mate.” He snakes his arm around her and grasps her hip, pulling her close. He’s being a wanker. “Meet the infamous Sinclair Breckenridge.”

  “The infamous, huh?” She smiles and holds out her hand. “Hi. Bleu MacAllister.”

  Bleu MacAllister. I repeat her name in my head five times as I look at her face so she’ll be etched in my memory. It’s probably unnecessary. I highly doubt I could forget her unusual name or bonny face. “It’s a pleasure, Miss MacAllister. May I ask what brings you to Edinburgh?”

  “My Aunt Edy, who was really my grandmother’s best friend, fell ill. Cancer. I was quite fond of her. She was like family so I came over to care for her during her last days.”

  “Then she’s already passed?” I ask.

  “Three weeks ago.”

  “And you’re still here?” I point out.

  “I’m the only one in the family who has the flexibility to stay and settle Edy’s estate.”

  “Is that a more dignified way of saying you don’t have a job?” I sound rude—exactly the way I intend.

  “Stop cross-examining her,” Leith warns. “You’ll have to excuse him, Bleu. He’s near finished his training to become a solicitor and he takes it a little too far sometimes.”

  I don’t need Leith to apologize for my actions. “I’m not taking anything too far. I’m making conversation about why a grown woman would not have a life or profession to get back to.”

  “I never said I didn’t have a life or profession.” She places her hand on her hip.

  “Then you have employment?”

  “I’m a photographer—mostly babies and brides. I’m the owner of a private studio so I have more freedom in my job than my father or sister.”

  “Yet you’re working in a bar as a wench?”

  “I’m a visitor, and as a lawyer, I’d think you’d be aware that I don’t have a work visa. Because I can’t be legally employed, I’m very grateful Leith hired me as a wench since Edinburgh isn’t a cheap place to live.”

  I do believe Miss MacAllister is a firecracker. “Did your aunt not leave you an inheritance?”

  “Yes, hence my reason for staying to settle her affairs. It’s time consuming, as I’m sure you understand, being that you’re in the legal profession.” She turns away from me to Leith. “Is your friend always this disagreeable?”

  Leith slides his hand from her hip to her arse. “Unquestionably.”

  She moves his hand off her bum. “You don’t pay me enough for that privilege.”

  “I can give you a raise.” Leith laughs.

  “I’m sure you can, boss,” she calls out over her shoulder as she walks away.

  “That lass is something, eh?”

  She’s beautiful and charming. I hope that doesn’t backfire on my pal. “My gut tells me she’s something all right, but what, I’m not certain.”

  “You’re always so paranoid.”

  He’s right. I suspect everyone but paranoia keeps me alive, so I’m perfectly fine with it.

  The next hour is much the same. Leith looks the part of a prick as he flirts with the American each time she walks by. She seems receptive to his advances but I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.

  I wonder how long she’ll be here. I hope not a minute longer than it takes to settle her business since Leith is too stupid to see this is a train wreck waiting to happen. Perhaps I should offer her legal assistance so I can hurry along the process. Private law concerning inheritance settlement isn’t my specialty but I know enough to advise her.

  “She’s back.” I don’t have to turn around to know whom Jamie means. It’s Geneen. “And she’s brought McLain with her again.”

  I turn around and Geneen smirks, looking proud to have me see her with another man. It’s laughable for her to think she could make me jealous.

  “You’re a tube if you don’t go over there and beat him until he pisses himself.”

  I despise that bitch for coming here with him but Jamie’s right. She’s forcing my hand or I’ll appear weak in front of the brotherhood. I can’t have that. “I will, but not before Geneen gets a penance fuck for doing this.” I’ll get far more satisfaction from that than slamming my fist into McLain’s face.

  I get up from the table and go over to her. She’s sitting on a barstool next to her new man. I grab her arm and squeeze. “To the back. Now.” I look at McLain. “And not a fucking word out of you.”

  She grins because I’m guessing she thinks she knows what going to the back means. Too bad for her, she’s mistaken.

  I know her kind. They think they can win my heart with hot sex but she couldn’t be more wrong. I’ll use her up and toss her aside, just like the rubber I’ll wear when I fuck her.

  I lead her into the storage room and reach under her dress. I roughly yank her knickers down her legs and shove her back against the shelving unit. I’m sure it’s uncomfortable but we aren’t doing this for anyone’s pleasure but my own.

  The fleeting thought of pleasure causes me to change my mind about how we’re going to do this. If I fuck Geneen, I’ll be giving her exactly what she wants, so I decide she’ll suck me off instead.

  I step away from her. “I changed my mind. Get on your knees.” She steps forward and tries to kiss me but I shove her away. Her mouth will never touch mine. “I said, get on your knees.”

  She lowers herself to the floor and unzips my trousers. She’s reaching inside for my knob when the door swings open. Leith’s new American barmaid barges into the room and stands with her hands on her hips. “Can you move over, please? You’re blocking me from what I need to get.”

  Is she serious? “No. I’m busy. Come back after we’re finished.”

  “Kenrick sent me to fetch a bottle of Ballantine’s and you’re in my way.”

  This girl would never speak to me like this if she was from here and knew who I was. She’d show me respect. “Can’t you see what’s happening here?”

  “Unfortunately, it’s something I can never unsee.” She points to my left. “I’m certain she can still give you a first-class blow job eighteen inches in that direction.”

  Neither of us makes a move and she huffs. “Look, all the leaves on my give-a-fuck tree have fallen. It’s been a long day. I’ve been grabbed and fondled by strange men for the last six hours. Some old geezer slipped his hand up my skirt and I had to smile and kindly encourage him to remove it … instead of breaking his face with my fist. I’m tired. I just want to finish my job so I can go home and have one or a dozen glasses of wine and then pass out. I’m not asking for much.”

  This lass’s behavior is absurd—and highly entertaining. I shove my cock back in my pants and step out of her way. “You heard Miss MacAllister. We’re in her way.”

  Geneen laughs but not because she’s amused by this American called Bleu. “Oh, hell no. I’m not moving,” she says, arms crossed and still kneeling.

  “Then you should probably expect this
to be hugely unpleasant,” Bleu says.

  “Really?”

  I’m caught completely off guard when Bleu punches Geneen directly in the center of her face, knocking her to the floor, and then kicks her in the gut. She doesn’t give her another glance as she reaches over her crumpled body. I watch her grab a bottle of whisky and inspect it. “I believe this will do nicely.” She sashays toward the door, calling back over her shoulder, “Carry on.”

  I burst into laughter as I help Geneen from the floor. “The girl must be certifiably crazy, but my God, that was the most entertaining thing I’ve seen since … ever.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Geneen touches her face. “I think that bitch broke my nose.”

  I look at her and confirm her suspicion. Her nose is definitely no longer in the center of her face. “I fear you’re right. Looks broken to me.”

  “I’m kicking her arse,” Geneen growls as she starts for the door.

  I grab her arm but not because I fear for Bleu’s safety. I’m certain she can do a right nice job of protecting herself. “There will be none of that, I’m afraid.”

  Bleu has greatly lifted my mood so I’m feeling far too generous to give a penance fuck or start a fight. “Get out of here. Take McLain with you and never come back.”

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  EXCERPT: INDULGE

  Beau Emerson is no gentleman.

  Those hazel eyes.

  That filthy mouth.

  That greedy, hard body.

  It all equates to one thing. Irresistible.

  One look and I know he’ll bruise my lips and scar my knees. He’ll give me the best nine days of my life while ruining me in the most beautiful way imaginable. And I’ll let him because he has the power to talk me into anything.

  Except one thing.

  Staying.

  I have no choice. The things I desire from him will destroy me in the end. I want more than he’s capable of giving––something true and beautiful.

  He can never know how much of me belongs to him. Too much is at stake.

  Shh … don’t tell him he’s my everything.

  My name is Anna James Bennett. And this is our story.

  PROLOGUE

  ANNA JAMES BENNETT

  I sigh as I toss the thick legal envelope across the island in Meredith’s gourmet kitchen. The proof of my marriage’s dissolution barely comes to a stop before plummeting over the edge. “It’s final, as of today.”

  My best friend, Meredith, squeals. “Yes. This calls for a celebratory drink.”

  The word celebratory implies happiness or joy. That isn’t the case for me. My husband of twelve months left me for a nineteen-year-old. A kid. His former student.

  Fucker.

  He swears nothing happened while she was his pupil.

  Liar.

  He claims it’s true love.

  Dumbass.

  Drake’s relationship with Caitlyn is fleeting. She’s an immature teen who wants to play house. The paint won’t dry on the walls of their new apartment before she’s ready to bail.

  “I’ve been saving this one for a special occasion.” Ahh. A bottle of Wittmann Westhofener Morstein Riesling. Always rich in body and texture. My favorite.

  Gulp. Gulp. The bottle gurgles as Meredith pours far more than three ounces. My glass is three-quarters full when she presses two fingers against the base and glides it across the sleek Carrara marble toward me. I instantly salivate when the essence of honey, peach, mango, and flowers invades my nostrils.

  Meredith lifts her glass, cueing me to the toast she’s about to make. “Here’s to the end of an error––your misconception that Drake Langston was a knight in shining armor rather than what he really is—a turd in tinfoil.”

  “I know that’s the truth.” I tap my glass against hers before taking the first sip of dry, fruity goodness. Damn, that’s good stuff.

  “Capone made sure you got everything you wanted?”

  Alec Capone is the most successful divorce attorney in Georgia. He should be with a name like that. “I got more than I wanted, including custody of Little Bastard, since Drake relinquished ownership of him. Caitlyn’s allergic.” I’m epically pissed off about him dumping his cat on me.

  “Are you keeping the lil’ guy?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Kermit, aka Little Bastard, has no love for me. Doesn’t matter that I’ve been the one who has fed him his every bite, changed his litter box every time, taken him to the vet for every visit, even the time he was deathly ill from eating part of my foam flip-flop.

  “You won’t have a problem if you decide to rehome him. He’s beautiful. Plenty of cat lovers would take him just because he’s a Bengal.”

  Kermit was Drake’s trophy cat. Pretty to look at and that’s about it. Much like Caitlyn.

  I have no emotional connection to Little Bastard. I’ve tried to bond, but he’s resistant. That’s why I’m so surprised by the way I feel when I think of giving him away. He’s resistant to loving me. Just like Drake.

  “I got my name back.” That’s what I wanted most. Bennett. My daddy’s name.

  The wrinkle in Meredith’s brow serves as a warning. It’s always a prelude to something serious. “I understand those papers feel like a painful ending, but that’s because they’re disguising what today is. A new beginning. Grayson and I think it’s important for you to treat this as a fresh start.”

  Meredith disappears into the dining room and returns with a gift bag covered in curly ribbon and filled with tissue paper.

  “Your divorce gift. Read the card first.”

  I open the envelope and read the message aloud. “Congratulations on your divorce. We hated him.”

  “No secret there.” I already knew Meredith and Grayson despised Drake.

  I rip into the bag, tossing aqua and lime tissue paper in every direction. I’m worse than a child when it comes to tearing into gifts.

  I take out each item and place it on the countertop. Sunscreen. Ray-Bans. The ridiculously expensive bikini I lusted for at that expensive boutique in Buckhead. And condoms.

  “Sur . . . prise. Grayson and I are taking you to Jamaica with us next month.”

  Umm . . . not just no. “Forget it. Not happening.”

  “Oh, it’s happening. We’ve already booked two suites and your airline ticket. First class.”

  She’s out of her mind. I’m not going to that place. “Cancel one. Unless you and Grayson plan to use separate suites.”

  “Can’t cancel. It’s Wicked Week at the resort so both rooms had to be paid for in full. Nonrefundable.”

  This is her way of guilting me into doing what she wants. She thinks I’ll say yes if her money won’t be returned. “You’re so wrong for doing this to me.”

  “You need a getaway, and we knew you’d never agree otherwise. Don’t be mad.”

  I’m not mad. I’m pissed. I’ve already made plans for the next three months. “I’m taking a second job while school’s out for summer. There’s no way an employer will give me vacation time four weeks after hiring me.”

  “Maybe not, unless your bosses are Meredith and Grayson Faulkner. Come to work for us, and we’ll guarantee you the time off. There won’t be a reason in the world you can’t go.”

  Right. No reason in the world unless you consider the fact this all-expenses-paid vacation is for a getaway at a hedonism resort. A freaking no-holds-barred sex retreat.

  I’m neither a hedonist nor a swinger.

  Meredith Faulkner has been my best friend since ninth grade. We’ve been through thick and thin. There’s nothing she and I haven’t shared, apart from one huge exception.

  Meredith and Grayson practice hedonism. They chase pleasure in any form it presents. They’re also part of a local community known to many as the lifestyle. They’re swingers. Wife Swappers.

  Whatever floats their boat is fine by me. I don’t judge. But hedonism and swinging ain’t my thang. I’m not into casual sex. I prefer intimacy with a man I love
, and always within the boundaries of a committed relationship.

  Call me old-fashioned but I need more than a physical connection. A quick fuck with a person I’ve just met isn’t my cup of tea. Neither is having sex with someone else while my husband watches. Or the other way around.

  “Don’t be worried about the money. Indulge is all-inclusive. You won’t be out a dime.”

  I am cash-strapped, but Meredith knows my resistance is unrelated to my financial status. “I don’t practice hedonism, and I’m not a swinger. I have no business going to Indulge.”

  “It’s Jamaica, mon! There are plenty of activities that have nothing to do with hedonism or swinging.” She picks up the top of the bikini she just gifted me and holds it up over my shirt. “Think of how great you’ll look on the beach in this.”

  I’m not denying I need an escape from this hell I call reality, but I don’t want it to be at Indulge, even if all expenses are paid. “Seeing you and Grayson with other people will be a problem for me.”

  “Then we’ll ensure you don’t.”

  “What kind of things would there be for me to do?”

  “Let me grab my laptop, and I’ll show you.”

  The website for Indulge makes it appear to be a classy establishment. But looks can be deceiving. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

  “Hedonism resorts are like anything else. There are different levels. Go to a hundred dollar a night establishment and you’ll get what you pay for. Indulge is five stars all the way so it’s only the best accommodations and amenities for its guests.”

  Meredith navigates to the page of offered activities. The list is huge. “You’ve always wanted to try snorkeling and scuba diving.”

  “True.” I wanted an island honeymoon where Drake and I could do those things together. He took me to the mountains instead, the last place I wanted to go, because it was cheaper.

  “I know you don’t think so, but this is your kind of vacation, Anna James. The pools are luxurious. The beaches are white with the bluest water you’ve ever seen. You’re provided with all the alcohol and food you can hold. Calories don’t count there.”