Hustler_A Second Chance Romance

by Rye Hart

  He had been so brave.

  Just like Lily.

  I pushed the thoughts of my son away before they threatened to take over and set the cookies on the counter. I was still concealing the gun in my hand behind the door as I stood in the cracked doorway. The three of us were awkwardly standing there, not knowing what to do.

  “I hate to cut the pow-wow short, but I got somewhere to be,” I said finally.

  “We didn’t mean to keep you,” Cindy said.

  I wanted to slam the door and lock them on the porch, but the look on Lily’s face stopped me from being a complete asshole. “Thanks for the cookies,” I managed.

  “You’re welcome,” Cindy said. “Come on, booger. Let’s give Graham some privacy.”

  “But I wanna stay and play,” Lily said.

  “No. We need to go. He’s got places to be,” Cindy said.

  The two of them walked away, and I watched until they were safely inside their house. I shut my front door and disengaged my firearm, sliding it across the counter toward the cookies. I locked the door and shut off the lights, doing whatever I could to ward off any other visitors.

  Taking out my phone, I called Daniel. I needed a distraction, someone to talk to so I could get my mind off things.

  The phone rang.

  “Graham. My man. What’s up?” Daniel asked.

  “Not much,” I said. “You?”

  “Something must be up. You never call just to talk.”

  “Wanted to let you know I got a job in town,” I said.

  “No shit! Whatcha doing?”

  “Working at a mechanic shop. They prefer people pay in cash, so there isn’t a lot of formal paperwork to get hired there. Means my name won’t pop up on anything in the employment records.”

  “Sounds like the best deal for now,” he said. “They legit? Not secretly running drugs or anything like that?”

  “Nah, nothing like that. The owner’s old and doesn’t like fooling around with shit. You’d like him. Nothing’s sugar-coated, and I get to accept tips. Got the best prices in town too. He’s always busy from morning until the time they close.”

  “Great, you have a job. Now you need to make a friend or two.”

  “I’m not making friends.”

  “The owner of the shop sounds like a start,” he said.

  “I’m not his friend. The man’s halfway to the grave.”

  “The place got a manager? Or some guy you work alongside? That’s your next mission.”

  “I’m not a fucking operative any longer.”

  “If you wanna wrap all this shit up, you are,” he said.

  I sighed as I walked into the bathroom. I put him on speakerphone and started cleaning myself up. I needed to leave for work soon.

  “I’ll find someone to talk to every now and then,” I said.

  “That’s a start,” Daniel said.

  “It’ll have to be good enough,” I said.

  “We’ll work on it. Don’t worry. In the meantime, keep your head down. Don’t do your job too well or too shitty.”

  “Do it enough to blend in with the rest of the crowd. I know. Fuck,” I said.

  “When’s your first day?”

  “Already been working a couple of days, but my first full-time shift is in a few minutes.”

  “Better get to work then. Being late doesn't look good.”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve held a job before,” I said.

  “I’m gonna get off here before your sarcasm comes back to slap you in the face. Have a good first shift. Let me know how it goes.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Later, shnookums.”

  I shook my head and splashed some water on my face for the last time. I looked at myself in the mirror and took myself in. The close-cropped beard that hid my dimples, the brown hair on my head I’d allowed to grow out a bit longer than I used to, the dead stare in my blue eyes. I used to see the reflection of my eyes in Cary’s, every time I looked down at her and cradled her in my grasp. I planted my hands on the side of the sink and watched my muscles flex. She had always loved my arms. I’d kept them up just for her, kept them more chiseled than the rest of my body.

  I pushed myself away from the sink and buried her memory as I grabbed my phone.

  I locked up my house and hopped into my truck. It was time to go to work and try to do this assimilation bullshit. I cranked up my truck, pulled out of my garage, and backed out onto the road. I whipped my car into drive and pressed down the gas, trying to get away from the house as quickly as possible. Every time I remembered my family, I remembered that night when everything was taken away from me.

  And sometimes, I couldn’t deal with the reality of it all.

  End of Sneak Peek. Would you like to know how this continues?

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  HER BEST MEN

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  PROLOGUE

  Andrew pulled me off the couch and crashed his lips into mine. I melted into his embrace, feeling the brothers surrounding me. Andrew's muscles were twitching, and his cock was throbbing, and he was aching to be close to me.

  As the guys undressed me, happiness shot through my veins. I missed them. More than I could stand.

  “I missed you guys so much,” I said in a whisper, trying not to cry. “Thank you for not giving up when I did.”

  “We’ll never give up on ya, pretty lady,” Andrew said. “But I know how you can make it up to us.”

  His voice was hot against my ear as I leaned into his naked body.

  “How’s that?” I asked.

  “I want you to show us how you pleasured yourself in all those fantasies as a teenager,” Andrew said. “I think we all wanna see what we do to ya.”

  I shuddered at the thought as I took their hands and led them into my bedroom.

  I opened my nightstand and pulled out my vibrator. They gathered around my bed, their cocks hard and dripping for me.

  I laid down with my legs spread wide, watching as Andrew and Caleb both licked their lips. I grinned as I turned on the vibrator, running the thick toy down my body. I traced it around my nipples, pulling them to hard peaks with the vibrations.

  I squirmed as my free hand ran through my hair, biting my lip and putting on a show for them. I could hear their hands rubbing their dicks, their eyes hooked on me as the vibrator traveled closer to my wet pussy.

  I traced it around my swollen clit as my heels pressed into the mattress.

  I cupped my tit with my free hand, tugging at my nipple and sighing with relief. My juices were dripping, glistening against the hole I knew Andrew was already eyeing.

  I slid the thick toy deep inside of me, bucking relentlessly against it as I watched them tug on their cocks. I moaned their names, chanting for their bodies as I felt my orgasm rising up throughout my body.

  Before my back could collapse to the bed, Andrew reached for the toy. He pulled it from my body.

  "You're so fucking hot. Get ready to come again on top of me, baby. We’ll give you the wildest fucking night of your life."

  I knew he wouldn’t disappoint.

  CHAPTER 1

  KATIE

  “It is a beautiful place,” I said.

  I gazed out the window of the bathroom, slightly disoriented, as I looked across the fields. So much had changed over the past eight years. I couldn’t imagine it ever being the same.

  God, I missed the carefree girl I once was. Maybe, a part of me came back in desperation to find her.

  With emotions overpowering me, I was relieved to have my best friend and maid of honor, Lizzie, by my side. She was a southern fire cracker like none other.

  “This is somethin outta a movie. I never thought them rowdy O’Conner brothers woulda done all this.” Lizzie said.

  “What did she say?” Whitney asked.

  “My accent’s not that bad woman! Git ya ears checked,” Lizzie said.

  Whitney and Lizzie were still getting acquainted. Whitney an
d I met in college in New York, and she flew to Texas to join me for the wedding.

  I giggled. “She’s talking about the O’Conner brothers becoming so rich,” I said.

  The O’Conner brothers had been my next door neighbors and brother’s best friends since elementary school.

  My mother called them the “talk of the town,” mostly because there were four boys, and all of them were predisposed to being the center of gossip in one fashion or another. Maybe it had to do with them being the most eligible bachelors in town.

  I had the biggest crush on them growing up.

  Since my brother was the protective type, I mostly enjoyed the company of the O’Conners as friends and kept my feelings private. The only person I opened up to was Lizzie. It wasn’t until my eighteenth birthday when feelings manifested into physical touches, kisses, and mischievous looks. We never went all the way, but man did I want them all badly.

  Besides my physical attraction, I also fell for their characters. If I got angry, I could count on them to be home to play sports with me, or take me out fishing or camping.

  We had the best of times together. I could outrun them and out-spit them. Often times, I could throw balls farther and kick balls harder than any one of them could.

  What can I say? I tarnished their egos and I was exquisite at it. Lucky for me, we built a strong bond, nevertheless.

  And, years later, while my mom was in the hospital, they’d setup times to visit her and kept me company there. They never ceased to make me feel loved during one of the toughest times of my life.

  “The five of you were like peas in a pod. Always hangin’ ‘round, attached at the hips. I’m shocked you didn’t date none of ‘em. Too late now. You’ll be off the market thanks to that city boy.” Lizzie said.

  My fiancé, Michael, was emotionally there for me during my mom’s chemo. I would have been a mess in New York if it wouldn’t have been for him. He held me up when I could no longer hold myself up.

  He was human, which meant he had his faults, but I credited him for getting me through my mother’s death. When she first got sick, he was there to hold me and let me cry. When my mother wasted away from the worst of her chemo treatments, he was the one to fly me back and forth, so I could bounce between Texas and New York.

  And when my mother died, he was the one that not only arranged her funeral for me but paid for it as well. The brothers offered to help, but I didn’t want to trouble them especially since they were so busy with business.

  My mother’s sickness came as a shock to everyone.

  She worked hard all her life but had always managed to keep a positive outlook on things. She kept herself as healthy as she could and went on long walks to keep herself physically active. Out of all the things to ail her, cancer was the last thing anyone could’ve ever expected.

  “You still hangin’ in there?” Lizzie asked.

  “Do you guys think I’m making the right decision? Please be honest.” I probed.

  “Glad you finally asked someone,” Lizzie said. “Though you coulda done it before your damn rehearsal dinner.”

  “Get off it, Liz,” Whitney said. “This is serious.”

  “Yes, it is. If you want my solid opinion, Michael’s a shitbag,” Lizzie said.

  “He’s got his good points,” Whitney said. “But, too be honest, I’m not sure they outweigh the bad.”

  “He was there through everything with my mother,” I said.

  “Them O’Conner brothers were, too,” Lizzie said.

  “They’ve always been there. We’ve been friends forever.” I said. “But Michael? He was shocking.”

  “And you like that about him?” Whitney asked.

  “I don’t know. Everyone has their faults, Whitney. Even me. But that doesn’t negate what he did for me while my mother was dying. All the flights he paid for, and the funeral he helped me plan. When I figured out my mom didn’t have life insurance, he stepped in without a second thought. He paid off the house so it wouldn’t rest on my shoulders and paid for the funeral.”

  “If you like money, them O’Conner brothers got a ton of it,” Lizzie said.

  “I get it. I know where you stand. You want me to end up with one of them, but that’s not happening.”

  “Why not?” Whitney asked.

  “Well for one, I’m an engaged woman. Two, they’re my brother’s friends. And three, they could have snagged me years ago but that never happened. It wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Come on, you were hardly legal and on your eighteenth birthday you were ready to jet off to New York. Can’t blame them for not wanting to get locked up or get their teeth knocked in by your brother. You know how protective that boy is. Plus, you were a lot to handle,” Lizzie said.

  “I wasn’t that bad in high school,” I said.

  “You were a firecracker. Super competitive. A girl like you was too much for one man to handle.” Lizzie said.

  “I didn’t know you in high school, but I can vouch for that, too. When I met you freshman year of college, you were the center of the party,” Whitney said.

  “Things change. People change. Look, I don’t want to hop into the arms of another man. I’m only wondering if I should be hopping into the arms of this man,” I said.

  “He changed ya,” Lizzie said. “You’re way more timid. You ain’t the same girl I knew.”

  “High school was seven years ago. I hope I’m not the same person,” I said.

  “He did change you,” Whitney agreed with Lizzie.

  “Losing my mother changed me,” I said.

  “Look, you wanted our opinion, so there it is,” Lizzie said. “Don’t marry the man. He’s an asshole.”

  “This shouldn’t be news to you, but that man checks out women while you’re right there. He’ll be the first to cheat on you and the last to feel bad about it. Don’t think you have to marry him because he threw some money around and was there when your mother passed. You don’t owe him anything.”

  “He’s never cheated on me. If he had, we’d never be here. And, Michael was there during the hardest time of my life,” I said. “I owe him a lot.”

  “You don’t owe no man shit,” Lizzie said. “That’s another way he’s changed ya. Got you hangin’ in there like a hair on a biscuit ‘cause he’s got you thinkin’ you owe him shit.”

  “A hair on a biscuit? Are you for real?” Whitney asked.

  “Welcome to Texas, sweet cheeks,” Lizzie said with a grin.

  I knew they were right, but my mind was swirling too much to say anything. It was my rehearsal dinner the night before my wedding, and I was beyond nervous. I was getting cold feet. That was all this was. There was no way in hell I was making the wrong decision. Michael was a good man. Lizzie and Whitney meant well, but they didn’t know him like I did.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get back out there.”

  “Told ya,” Lizzie said.

  “Told you what?” I asked.

  “I bet Whitney here twenty bucks you’d still go out there and get yourself married,” Lizzie said.

  “Really, Whitney? Gambling’s illegal in the State of Texas,” I said.

  “Glad to see that bar exam did you some good,” Whitney said with a smile. “But Lizzie was right. I figured us talking to you would snap some sense into that head of yours.”

  “Can we just try to get through this?” I asked.

  “You should never have to feel like you’re ‘getting through’ something like this,” Whitney said. “That tells me right there that this is a bad idea.”

  “Quit the yappin’. She’s made up her mind,” Lizzie said.

  I sighed as we left the bathroom and made our way back to the ballroom for dinner.

  I headed back to my table, trying to ignore the people around me. The ballroom was beautifully decorated, but if I paid attention to it too much, I would start thinking about the brothers again.

  When Michael proposed and expressed to me that we could move anywhere in the coun
try I wanted, I was excited to go back home. Dallas, Texas would always hold my heart, especially since I didn’t blend in with the city like I thought I would. My muddy old cowboy boots and my cut-off jeans weren’t something people saw every day in New York City, and I had to quickly trade them for more professional clothing and toned-down colors. Yuck!

  No thanks. I preferred my muddy boots just fine.

  Though, Lizzie was right. The brothers had really accomplished a lot in my absence. The four of them owned a string of ranch resorts that fused the decadence of first-class with the warm, soothing feel of country life.

  The O’Conner Ranch Resort had become a familiar name throughout the state, but it was quickly gaining ground all over the country. And when I started planning my wedding, I couldn't think of any other place I would rather be.

  I spotted Michael, socializing with a group of his college friends and walked over. But as I sat down by him, my presence went unacknowledged. He continued talking to someone beside him and paid me no attention. He didn’t look over at me or address me in any way. He didn’t slip his hand onto my knee like he used to or wrap his arm around the back of my chair. It was like I was non-existent to him, even though this was our rehearsal dinner.

  Even though I was about to be his wife.

  Maybe I was expecting too much.

  I sighed as I rested back into my chair, my eyes scanning the beautiful ballroom. The place had a country feel to it, with all the shiplap and the distressed beams that held up the high ceiling. The chandelier was covered in mason jars. It cast light in all different directions, illuminating even the darkest of corners. The blonde hardwood floors were a steep contrast to the dark-tinted shiplap, but all of it was fused together by one element: the beautiful view of a field from the windows that wrapped around the room.

  “How’s your food, Michael?”

  He stopped his conversation midway and slowly panned his gaze toward me.

  “Hm?” he asked.

  “Your food. How is it? Cooked the way you like? I made sure to talk to the chef for you,” I said.

  “It’s okay. It’s not really for us anyway. You know all of this is for them,” he said.