“Oh, God. Not you too?”
“What?” she says, sniffling.
“Don’t you fucking cry, Lo.” She knows I can’t stand it when she acts like a wuss. Really, I just hate to see her cry. I can’t handle that shit, and she knows it. No matter how much she gets on my nerves, I feel like I have to find a way to fix it. It’s probably her damn dad’s fault for always making me feel responsible for her.
“Don’t tell me what to do, asshole. I’ll cry if I wanna.”
Before I can respond, everyone’s clapping and cheering, and the D.J. comes back over the mic, inviting the wedding party to the floor.
“Guess that’s us,” I say linking my arm through hers. “Come on crybaby.”
We reach the middle of the floor just as the song begins. “You Look Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton drifts from the speakers. My best friend’s arms curl around my neck as I wrap mine around her tiny waist, and we sway side to side to the beat of the music. I sing the chorus into her ear, and it sort of freaks me out how much I actually mean what I’m saying. As the song goes on, I start to panic, because I don’t want it to end. Don’t want Willow’s boobs to leave my chest. And God, I want to keep feeling the heat of her breath on my neck. It’s making me dizzy in the best possible way.
“Lo?” I rasp, barely recognizing my own voice. Why do I sound nervous? I don’t get nervous, especially not with Willow.
“Yeah?”
“You really do look beautiful.”
Even in the dim lighting I can see her cheeks turning pink. “Thanks, Savage.”
“I think I wanna kiss you,” I blurt out, and immediately I wish I could take the words back, because this is my fucking best friend. What am I even thinking? Her dad will kill me.
Willow’s body tenses in my arms, and she pulls back a little, looking me right in the eyes. “You do?”
Fuck it. I might as well finish what I’ve just started. “Yeah. I think I do.”
“Our parents are watching,” she whispers into my ear, her voice shaking.
“Come walk with me by the lake? When we finish pictures and all that bullshit.”
Her arms tighten to the point that she’s nearly choking me. “Okay.” She nods. “But I’ve never kissed anyone before, Kyle. I—I might not be good at it.”
Something tells me she’ll be better than good. “It’s not hard, Lo. I’ll show you.”
She nods just as the song finishes, and we’re whisked apart and drug over to the cake table. The photos are seemingly endless. And the time is multiplied because I know what awaits when we finish.
§
When our parents and siblings are once again distracted, I grab Willow’s hand and motion for the back exit. Neither of us breathes a word until the door slams shut behind us.
“You cold?” I ask, feeling her hand start to tremble in mine.
She nods, curling into my side as we navigate the rocky path leading down to the wrought iron bench that sits near the lake.
Slipping out of my jacket, I place it over her shoulders. “Here.”
Willow dips her face down into the collar and inhales. “Mmm,” she moans. “Smells like you.” Hah. My mom would argue that’s not a good thing.
“Come closer, Lo,” I rasp when she sits almost a foot away from me on the bench.
Hesitantly she scoots in. “Kyle?”
“Yeah?”
“Is this...Is this gonna change things with us?” How have I never noticed how beautiful this girl is?
I think for a moment before answering, because this is Willow, not just some chick from school. “Probably.”
Nodding, she leans in closer. “I’m ready.”
With one arm wrapped around her back and the hand of the other cupping the side of her face, I lean in, pressing my lips to hers. I don’t use my tongue until she’s loosened up a little. Until her hands are gripping my shirt and she’s climbing into my lap. Then I dive in, swirling my tongue around with hers.
“Kyle,” she murmurs into my mouth as her fingers knot in my hair.
“Hmm?”
“Are you still gonna kiss Riley?” she asks, her eyes welling up again.
“No,” I answer, nipping at her lips, her chin, her neck. “Just you, Lo.”
“Good. Then, I won’t kiss anyone else either.”
“Damn right you won’t,” I growl before sucking her bottom lip into my mouth. We’re all tongues and teeth and panting breaths.
“There you two a—”
Oh, shit. It’s the CEO.
Willow hops out of my lap like her ass is on fire, both of us wiping our wet lips on the backs of our hands.
“Dammit,” her father huffs, shaking his head in disappointment. “Here we go again.”
Enjoy the free novella, Bagels & Brats.
Warning: This short story is intended for immature readers 18+.
If dick jokes offend you, keep moving along to the book excerpts.
Nothing to see here ;)
CHAPTER ONE
RIMMER, PENNSYLVANIA...CHUCKLING TO myself, I toss the map onto the coffee table, which is still littered with last night’s Chinese take-out boxes. As I finger my hands through my hair, I’m actually considering it.
Why the fuck not?
I, Peter Johnson, am about to be a free man. I haven’t breathed this easily in three long years. Not since the day I got busted by my girl Roxy’s older brother, balls deep in Double-D Darcy. That little piece cost me my college scholarship and turned my once stellar reputation to shit. That’s the bitch with dating the daughter of a man with the power of Roy Guidry, who owns our little town of Pecan Grove, Louisiana. One misstep, or mis-fuck, as it was in my case, and everything turns to shit. Old Roy had warned me not to make his princess cry. I should have known a man like that meant business. One slip of the dick and life as I knew it was over.
I know you’re probably thinking I got what I deserved, and maybe you’re right. Fucking around on Roxy was a shitty thing to do, I’ll admit. In my defense, I was only nineteen, and I saw no way out. Roxy and I started dating when we were just fifteen-years-old. She was my first girlfriend—my only girlfriend. From the start, her family embraced our relationship, molding me to be their future son-in-law. We were fucking kids for Christ’s sake. There were a few times I even suggested to Roxy that we take a break and date other people, but she was having none of that. She wanted me. Problem was...I no longer wanted her. But princess Roxy was accustomed to getting whatever her little heart desired and had no problem hinting at all of the many ways her daddy could ruin me. I knew she wasn’t making idle threats, so I stayed, and she turned the other cheek when she heard rumors of the other girls. However, once Daddy found out, all bets were off.
I’ve spent the last few years keeping a low profile, cutting and packing meat at my parents’ butcher shop. Well, today they presented me with an offer I can’t refuse: the chance to open another shop in the city and state of my choosing. A chance to get me out of and away from this mess. A chance to start over.
My parents are fucking saints.
“What’s it gonna be, Johnson?” my roommate and best friend of twenty years calls out as he enters through the back door, tossing his keys onto the counter. “Where’re we gonna lay our dicks?”
Looking over my shoulder, I’m met with a huge grin. His bright white teeth are a stark contrast to his dark brown skin. “You sure ’bout this, man?”
Jerome looks at me like I’ve sprouted another head. As if the two I have haven’t gotten me in enough trouble already. “Of course I am. We’re talkin’ the adventure of a lifetime here, Petey-boy.” He thumps me on the shoulder as he steps around the back of the couch to sit in the armchair. Leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head, Jerome kicks his size thirteens up onto the coffee table, knocking trash to the floor. “Besides”—he shrugs—“I’ve done cycled through all the pussy in these parts.”
He isn’t lying, and being one of only a handful of black men in this ra
cist ass town, he’s had to answer to a lot of daddies. I’m not really all that surprised he’s so anxious to get the fuck outta Dodge.
Fresh meat does sound nice. I shake my head, laughing to myself. “Well then, Rimmer, Pennsylvania, it is,” I say, watching a shit-eating grin creep across his face.
Jerome sticks out his tongue, lapping at the air. “Bring on the booty.”
CHAPTER TWO
“HEY, PETE, WHERE do you want me to put this salami?” Jerome lifts a large roll of sausage from a crate, holds it in front of his crotch, and begins to stroke seductively. He caresses the meat, jerking his hips forward as he screws up his features into an alarmingly convincing “O” face.
“Bend over and I’ll show ya,” I quip just as the bell rings out, signaling the opening of the door.
“Ahem.” The sound of a feminine throat clearing draws my eyes to the glass doors at the front of my new shop. A pretty little thing with reddish blond hair resting on perky tits levels me with glistening toffee brown eyes. Her top teeth are biting into her bottom lip, staving off a look that can only be described as embarrassment.
Saliva begins to fill my mouth as my dick jumps to attention. After gawking at the poor girl long enough to make us both uncomfortable, I find my voice, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “We’re, uh...closed.” Stupid.
She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, crinkling her nose in disgust. “I don’t, umm. I’m not here for your meat.” The girl’s cheeks flush crimson as she immediately realizes how suggestive that sounded. Deciding to behave myself, I bite back a million retorts. The last thing I want to do is frighten her away. I’m intrigued. Very intrigued.
A loud guffaw sounds behind me. “Jeez, princess. Chop off the man’s balls while you’re at it.” Jerome drops the salami back into the crate at his feet before walking over to introduce himself. “I’m Jerome,” he says, holding out his hand, which she reluctantly shakes. “The oaf behind me is Johnson.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and despite the grimace on her face, I’m fairly certain we’re having a moment. Not that Hallmark, insta-love, hearts and arrows bullshit. Think more along the lines of eye fucking. Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’s picturing me naked. Who could blame her? I’ve been told I’m quite the catch, and I’m in total agreement. Hey, I’m not blind. I look in the mirror. Chicks totally dig this shaggy blond hair and scruff. The long hours I spend in the gym definitely sweeten the deal. I won’t even try to pretend I’m not imagining the bangin’ body she’s barely concealing beneath that dress.
With a wink, I pull myself together and respond, “Nobody beats Pete’s Meats.” I flash her my signature panty-wetting smile, remove my apron, and gesture to the shirt that’s hidden underneath. It reads, “May I suggest the sausage?” with an arrow pointing down to my cock. Funny, right? I thought so too.
I’m expecting a laugh or at the very least a smile, but I must have completely misread this girl because she is anything but impressed with our slogan, which I happen to think is pretty fucking genius. Her eyes roll up in her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, cocking one hip out to the side. “I just came to see who’s in charge of receiving your packages.” She glances back and forth between me and Jerome, who is surprisingly managing to keep it together as he leaves this one to me. It’s too fucking easy.
“Well, it’s your lucky day because that position happens to be available.” Waggling my brows, I take a step closer. “Got any experience handling large slabs of meat?”
Her eyes widen and her lips part with a gasp before she hangs her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. Her body begins to shake with laughter, and I feel the vibration deep in my chest. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you kinda did.”
With the backs of her hands, she tosses her hair, revealing creamy white shoulders, which are bared in the floral, spaghetti-strap sundress that ends mid-thigh. There’s an air of innocence that surrounds her, and I’m finding it incredibly sexy.
“I, um.” Her long, manicured fingers comb through her hair, pulling it to one side. “I came from the shop next door. A rather large—” she pauses for a moment, tapping her finger against her plump bottom lip as she considers her word choice carefully “—delivery was left in our shop by mistake.” Her thumb juts out in the direction of the bagel café to the left of us.
“Ah, the vegan place? I’ve been meaning to walk over and introduce myself. We’ve just been crazy busy trying to get things in order for our opening next week.” I hold out my hand for hers. “I’m Peter Johnson. And, yes,” I answer before she can ask, “it’s my real name. My friends call me Pete or Johnson. Take your pick.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Peter.” She looks at me pointedly. “My name’s Valerie Cooter. My friends call me Val, but you can call me Valerie.”
Valerie Cooter...I feel the corners of my mouth twist into a smirk. I’m not one who normally believes in this kinda shit, but Johnson and Cooter? I mean, come on. If that’s not fucking destiny, I don’t know what is.
“Ouch. You don’t wanna be my friend, Valerie?” Lifting my hand and resting it over my heart, I give her my best puppy dog eyes while poking out my bottom lip. “That hurts.”
She shrugs, unfazed. “Sorry, as charming as you may be—” she gives me a look that clearly says she thinks I am anything but “—I don’t befriend murderers.” Valerie’s eyes dart around the room at the various sausages and cuts of meat. I notice a slight tremble as her body shudders with revulsion.
“Oh, I didn’t kill any of this, new pal Val. It was already D.O.A, dead on arrival.”
“I know what D.O.A means.” Her caramel eyes roll up in her head as she huffs strawberry blond waves from in front of her eyes. “You might as well have.” She takes a step closer, pointing a finger at me. “You know, if people stopped eating and wearing the corpses of innocent animals, they’d have no reason to kill them.” Damn, she’s cute when she’s all flustered.
“What if I told you these were all assholes?” I wave my hand around the room, shaking my head and cringing. “The worst of the worst. Rabid chickens and mad cows...”
That earns me a giggle, which she quickly tries to cover. “You’re insane.”
“You may not believe this, but you’re not the first person to say that to me.”
“Oh...I’m not surprised in the least.”
“Oh ho ho. Burn!” My best friend is so about to get his ass kicked.
“Jerome?”
“Yeah?”
“Go home.”
“But we ha—”
“We’re good for today. I’ll close up and meet you back at the apartment later.” My eyes never part from Valerie’s through the entire exchange, so I don’t see his reaction, but I know that he’s gone when the back door slams shut.
“Why’d you do that?” my new pal, Val, whispers.
Taking a few steps, I close the space between us, leaving less than a foot separating us. “I thought you might like a private tour of my meat,” I husk. My brows waggle and my dick jumps to attention, pitching a massive tent in my jeans. Always such a show off.
Did I actually just say that? What the fuck, Johnson? Afraid I’ve just come on way too strong, I chuckle and wink, attempting to play it off as a joke, but I’m not joking—at least not if she’s into it—not at fucking all.
The tip of her tongue peeks out, moistening her lips. “Wh-what would possibly give you that idea?” Valerie’s breathing changes. Her milky white tits rise and fall in heavy pants. Well, I’ll be damned. Little miss innocent is getting turned on.
“We were having a moment.” I shrug. Hey, she seems to like it that I’m coming on strong, and I can be forward as fuck.
Val swallows hard. “We were?”
“You felt it too.” Lifting my hand to brush the side of her face, I press on. “Don’t even try to deny it. I bet your pretty pussy is as slick as my dick is hard. Let’s not play games, new pal Val. Why deny ou
rselves of what we both want?”
The apples of her cheeks pinken, and she scoffs. “I, um. I-I don’t even know you.”
The scent of her flowery shampoo fills my nose as I lean forward, allowing my lips to lightly brush her ear when I whisper, “And yet, you want me anyway.”
Her body trembles and her eyes flit to mine. “I’ve never done this before. I don’t...I don’t do things like this, Peter.”
No fucking way. “Are you telling me you’re a virgin, Valerie? A lesbian?”
She scoffs. “No. No, I’m not. I just—I don’t sleep with strangers.”
Grabbing her chin with my thumb and forefinger, I tilt her face up so her lips are a breath away from mine. “Then it’s a good thing we got those pesky introductions out of the way already, isn’t it?”
Another swallow. “Yes.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, Valerie.” My heart hammers in my chest as she nods, and her eyes flutter closed. This is insane. “And then I’m going to show you just how good Pete Johnson’s meat can be.”
“Yes,” she whispers.
The moment our tongues touch, it’s a frenzy. I always thought the firework reference to be bullshit, but that’s exactly what this is—explosive.
Valerie’s fingers twist and tug on my hair as I slip my hands around her back, feeling for the hook to her bra that isn’t there. “Free boobin’,” I rasp against her lips. “So fucking hot.”
She bites on my bottom lip before pulling back a little. “Where?” Her eyes dart around the room. “Anyone could see us here.” I get the feeling when she says anyone that she’s referring to someone specific. I sure as fuck hope she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Something tells me that one taste of Miss Cooter won’t be enough.
With her tiny hand tucked into mine, I lead her back to the stock room, which is piled high with unpacked boxes. “It’s this or the meat cooler,” I offer, leaving the choice to her.
Valerie answers by lifting her dress over her head, revealing another secret. “Fuck me, little girl.” Biting down on the insides of my cheeks, I shake my head. “No panties either.” Blood rushes to my dick as it begins pulsing.
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