by Brook Greene
Piper and I are the only living heirs, but my father put in place a board of directors before his death, yet the final say in anything comes down to me and my little sister. She and I make a trip to the offices in Atlanta at least once a quarter.
“Jefferys?” he asks, just as Kimey sits the bottle and two new tumblers down on the table between us.
“Thank you, Kimey.” I slip her a hundred and she smiles at me, backing away from the table. “Yes sir, Mr. Jefferys.” I uncork the bottle, pouring a good amount into each glass. Another lesson my father taught me was to show off, but don’t be showy about it. I hand him his glass, tapping it with mine when he takes it. “Cheers.”
“You’re trying to place me, place my last name.” I clear my throat and sit up. “Well, let me save you the trouble. My father was Isaac Jefferys, and my grandparents were Ester and Truman Jefferys.” That brings a light of recognition to his eyes. I can practically hear a fucking cash register cha-ching. “My father ran for mayor of Latham about the same time you started your campaign here, am I right?”
“Yes, yes.” He sits up a little straighter with a smile on his face. “That’s it. I was sorry to hear about your parents’ death.” He takes a drink. “That black ice can be nasty stuff.” Thanks, asshole, it’s been seventeen years, a little too fucking late for that sentiment.
“Boy, it can be.” Not until this moment did I realize that I’ve been placing blame on the wrong person, Hollis’s mother. The man sitting across from me is solely responsible for the tragic lives we’ve all been forced to live. He used her, and when she became a nuisance he discarded her, along with the child he helped create under false pretenses of love and devotion. So she sought it out in any man who would give her just a little bit of their time, like my father. She saw in him what Keaton took from her and she wasn’t going to let it go again, and that led to my family paying the ultimate price for everything.
“Have you ever thought about politics, son?” I fight the cringe the sound of his deep Southern drawl has calling me son.
I fake a smile. “No, sir. My plate’s kind of full at the moment.” I take another drink, hoping he doesn’t see the shake in my hand.
He holds up his empty glass and gestures to the bottle. “May I?”
I lean in, taking the bottle. “Let me do the honors.” I pour him another glass full and top mine off.
He sits back, satisfied. “Your plate’s full? What is it that you do?”
I smile. “A little of this, a little of that.” I take a drink, wondering just how much of me I want him to know about. If I give away the DEA angle, will it show my hand? Or will it give him enough motivation to come clean about Hollis, figuring I know everything there is to know about what he’s done? But it isn’t going to matter because as soon as I walk out of here, he’s going to have every resource at his fingertips looking into me.
He points to the few tattoos that peek out over the collar of my dress shirt and the ones on my hands. “And those? What part of that are they?”
I reach up and tug up my collar, hoping he didn’t see the intricate tattoo that contains Hollis’s name under my left ear. “The best parts.”
“Oh, the country club boy turned bad, tasting the goodness that is offered by the wild side?” he asks with a chuckle.
“Yeah, you could say that.” I feed into what he thinks. “The silver spoon boy partaking in the wrong side of the tracks bad girl who has daddy issues. Yeah, that’s it.” Men like him disgust me, and for the first time, this scum reminds me of my father in his later years, and the affair he’d carried on with Hollis’s mother.
I join in with his laughter, but it makes me sick on the inside. How could any man get to this point in life where women are dirty rags to be tossed aside when they’re no longer wanted or useful?
I push the cuff of my shirt up, making sure he sees my father’s Rolex I’m wearing to check the time. “It’s been a pleasure, Mayor, but I have a date tonight.” I stand up and slide my chair back under the mahogany table. Taking the cork and placing it back in the bottle, I pick it up. “I’m sure you don’t mind.” I tilt the bottle in his direction. “The lady loves whiskey.”
“By all means.” He stands, offering me his hand again. “I look forward to seeing you again, Roman. Look me up the next time you’re in the area.”
“I might take you up on that. A tee time perhaps?”
“Most definitely.” He reaches into his suit coat and produces a card, handing it to me. “My cell and office number are on there. I’ll wave the visible tattoo policy.” He nods at my arms.
“I would greatly appreciate that, seeing as how I paid out the ass for a membership here.” I smile back. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint one of your exclusive members now, would you?” I watch the smile melt off his fat face. “Until next time, Mayor Campbell.” I leave him speechless as I walk out, feeling his eyes burn a hole in my back.
~~~~~~
I drive up to the Bastards clubhouse and this time, I’m let through the gate without any troubles, getting chin lifts from the two new guys at the gate. The sun has started to set and I know Hollis is out of her mind with worry and curiosity as to why Josie is practically holding her hostage at her and Eno’s house.
I walk in to find it a little more occupied than it had been this afternoon. It’s a scene that brings back so many memories of old times at Mayhem. Men in cuts mingle around, some on couches with women’s heads between their legs, others being rode hard by naked club whores. Cruz sits at the bar alone, drinking a beer when he spots me and gestures me over, directing the prospect behind the bar to get me a beer.
“So, how’d it go?” he asks as I slide up on the stool beside him.
I smile. “I got more than I needed.” I pull from the bottle. “He’s a real fucking piece of work,” I add.
“Yeah, I know.”
I look around the room and back to him. “You have all this pussy ready and willing, yet you sit here alone with a beer? What the hell’s up with that?”
He takes a deep breath. “Like I said, we’ll talk about it later.”
“It or her?” I question, remembering our conversation from earlier outside the nursing home. “Don’t tell me, Harper?”
“Harper.” I look forward and my eyes catch the clock—eight o’clock, I won’t get home until around ten, so it means I need to be hitting the road. I slap him on the back. “I’ll keep her out of it, whatever the hell her part in this is, as long as it doesn’t hurt Hollis.”
He stands with me. “Thank you for that, and I’ll explain later when all this shit blows over.”
“Looking forward to that conversation.” He walks me to Matt’s Mercedes.
“Where the hell did you get a fucking car like this on such short notice? Your garage?” He smooths his hand over the doorframe.
“Nope. It’s Matt’s.” I open the door and reach in for the bottle of whiskey. I would love to share such a fine bottle of bourbon with Hollis, just not this one, the one I shared with the piece of shit that had thrown her away. I’ll buy her a new bottle, just for us. “Here.” I hand it to Cruz. “A small thank you for all you’ve done.”
His eyes go wide when he reads the label. “Fuck me, man. This is a fifteen-hundred dollar bottle of whiskey.”
I slap him on the shoulder. “And it’s all yours, but I would hide it. It’s not really the kind your brothers shoot or pour over and lick off of a pair of undeserving tits.”
He smiles at me. “You’re a class act, Roman. I’m glad Hollis found her way back to you, man.”
“Careful now, people might think you’re turning into a good guy, Cruz. Or should I say, Ethan?”
“Fuck off.” He takes the cork out of the bottle. Placing it to his nose, he breathes the bourbon in deep. “Damn, that’s good shit.” He replaces the cork. “What are you going to tell her?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.” I shake his hand one last time before pulling the car out of the gate and head home.
&n
bsp; ~~~~~~
I walk through the door of our house and she has the blues playing and the house dimly lit. I take off my suit jacket, wishing I’d changed before wearing this back in, but it’s nothing unusual for me to come home in a suit. I’ve done it many times before.
I stop and listen for her, but I can’t pin her down. “Hey.” Her deep voice has me spinning around to find her sitting in the dark of the living room. She eyes my suit. “Work?” I nod my head once, not verbalizing the lie.
She stands, and I see the glass of bourbon in her hand. She walks over to me and hands me the glass. I down the remaining contents, then reach out and pull her to me, pressing her body flush against mine. She runs her palm down the silk tie around my neck, with a look of appreciation in her eyes.
“I’ve missed you today,” I start off, trying to ease her into it.
She takes the glass from my hand and sits it on a table as she leads me up to our room. She has my flannel on, and me walking behind her, I have a perfect view of her gorgeous bare legs.
She walks us to the foot of the bed and stops. Turning to me, she begins to loosen up the knot of my tie. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you in a suit. All CEO, ruling the boardroom, running an empire and shit, that’s sexy as hell. But…” She pulls the silk from my neck, making a swishing sound as it slides around my shirt. She drops it to the floor, and I can feel my cock stain toward what it wants. She begins to unbutton my shirt and I let my arms hang at my sides, letting her do all the work.
She runs her hands up my chest, then she slides her fingers under the material, pushing it back and over my shoulders, then down my arms. The cuffs of the shirt are still buttoned. Lifting one hand, she takes out my cuff link, then does the same with the other, placing the platinum links on our bedside table.
The shirt falls to the floor at my feet as she leans in, placing a kiss over my right peck, giving the nipple a flick with her tongue. “But you in your God-given suit is by far my favorite.” She’s going cock achingly slow. I just want to pick her up and throw her back on the bed and cover her body with mine, taking what I want from her.
She lowers herself to her knees, bringing her face level with my rock-hard cock. Taking a finger, she runs it up the outline it’s making in my slacks. “Is this all for me?”
“Mmm,” I growl out, breathing so heavily, I feel like I’m going to pass out. She slowly undoes my belt, whipping it through the loops and tossing it aside with the rest of my clothes. She again cups my erection, and this time, she gently messages it as she kisses her way back and forth across my stomach. I lay my head back, relishing the feel of her soft, full lips on my skin. She licks and kisses, then sucks and bites the skin just above the waist band of my slacks. Her deft fingers work the button loose, then the hiss of the zipper floats through the silence of our bedroom.
She pushes my pants down, taking my dress socks and shoes with them. Looking up at me through her lashes, she has a devilish smile on her face as she takes my shaft in her hand, giving it slow strokes. She flicks her tongue out, licking off the pre-cum that’s formed at the head, making my body shudder.
I tangle my fingers in her hair, nudging my dick against her lips. “Let me in, baby,” I say as she opens, letting my slide past her lips and into her hot mouth.
“Oh, damn, that feels good.” She wraps her lips around her teeth as she begins to pump her hand up and down my shaft in time with me rocking in and out of her mouth. Her other hand comes up gripping my hip, her nails digging into the skin.
I feel my sack tighten as she strokes me closer and closer to my release. Although coming in her mouth is one of my all-time favorite things to do, this isn’t how I want to finish tonight. “Hollis,” I say between gritted teeth. “This isn’t how I want to come.” She completely ignores me, and when I still my movements, she begins thrusting her mouth back and forth on me.
I reach with my free hand and pull her up to her feet, no longer wanting to wait for what she’s so purposefully drawing out. “God, woman, you drive me fucking crazy.” She wraps her fingers around my wrists as we both fall to our sides onto the bed. She wraps her leg up and around my hip, shoving at my boxer briefs. I reach between us and find her pussy bare.
“No panties,” I say against her lips.
“I was waiting on you.” She rolls her hips into my fingers.
“Did you get yourself off before I got home?” I push one finger into her slick folds.
“Maybe.” Her answer is breathy as I find her swollen clit and begin to rub tiny circles with my finger. “Mmm.”
Her fingers wrap around my shaft, giving it a rough but satisfying tug. Lust surges through my body as she begins to slowly stroke me in time with the circles I’m drawing on her clit. I feel as the pressure begins to build and my balls tighten up against my body. “Careful, I want to be in you when I come.” She lightens her strokes, but I increase the pressure, and I feel as her body becomes rigid against mine as she throws her head back on a gasp.
“Oh, Roman.” I push a finger into her, feeling her warm, tight pussy clenching around it. Working them both in time, her body begins to jerk right before she breaks and screams through her orgasm. “Oh, shit,” she bellows, right before she falls limp at my side.
I roll to my back, bringing her with me, and position myself at her opening. “Ride my cock, Hollis.” I dig my fingers into her hips as she sinks down to the hilt. She braces herself with her hands on my chest and stills. She looks down at me, her long hair spilling around her slim shoulders. I look up into the eyes that hold my world, and feel the knot in my chest tighten. “I love you,” I tell her as she begins to rock back and forth, up and down my length.
She lets out little moans as she moves. We make love—slow and meaningful love. Pouring our souls into each other, I look down my body to where we’re joined and watch my cock appear then disappear again into her as she lifts and lowers her body. She begins to tighten around my shaft again, and I know she’s close so I take over, using my strength to control her movements because I want to fall over the edge with her when she goes.
“Oh God, that’s it, Roman…yes!” she screams as I shove her down onto me, filling her with my seed.
“Fuck!” I groan through gritted teeth. She rocks her hips a few more times, making my body shiver as the leftovers of my orgasm rock through my body as she rubs the sensitive tip of my cock.
She lays down on my chest, both of us trying to calm our breathing. “Damn, baby,” I breathe out as she draws small circles on my bare chest.
“Yeah,” she replies, her voice soft. I lean up and kiss the top of her head, taking in the scent of her hair—vanilla and lavender.
I roll us to our sides again and she curls into me. Wrapping my arms around her, we fall silent, and I listen as her breaths even out. We said to each other with our bodies what we couldn’t express in words.
I wish I could take the coming pain she’s going to have to endure away when I tell her what I’ve found. Would she listen if I told her he’s a pompous ass that doesn’t deserve her time or tears? The ones that are sure to follow when she pushes to meet him? Could I lie to her and tell her there’s no trace of who her father is, that he simply disappeared? Or on that note, could I make him disappear? I know my brothers would help me bury the asshole’s body.
The dark of our room offers me no easy answers or simple solutions, and the silence mocks me. A lie would be more comfortable. I could mold it to fit tightly around us, keeping out the things I need to protect her from. But I know the truth is what she deserves, and I owe that to her.
Chapter Sixteen
Roman
I sit at the bar in our kitchen with a cup of coffee in my hand when Hollis comes storming in, her shoulders tense and her eyes set in a hard line. She comes to a stop across from me, slapping her hand down on the countertop.
“Okay, I need to know what you’ve found. Tell me what you were doing yesterday, Roman.” She lays both of her hands, palms down, onto the co
unter. “Because I know you weren’t working with the DEA.” Damn it, it had been a long shot, thinking that she’d believe me. The euphoria from our last night’s lovemaking is long gone, replaced by the fighter I fell in love with.
I sit my cup down and take a deep breath. “I found him.”
She stands up straight, her mouth falling open in shock. “You did?” The hopeful look that replaces the shock on her face breaks my heart, and when she sees I’m not returning her smile, hers falls from her lips. She sinks down onto the stool, propping her elbows on the counter and rests her head in her hands. “Oh no, he’s dead, isn’t he? Died from some horrific drug deal gone wrong or worse.” Her head pops up. “It was an overdose, wasn’t it?”
As much as I wish all those scenarios were the case, it isn’t. Here’s my chance. I could lie and let her believe that’s how the man who fathered her met his demise and be done with all this fucked up shit, and start our lives together and put all this behind us. But if I’ve learned anything from my brothers, it’s that lying will only come up later and bite you in the ass, giving you a shit case of rabies.
So I dive in headfirst. “Not exactly,” I say on a sigh. This makes her perk up, but I hold up my hands, stopping her from being too overjoyed with my news. “Hold on a minute, Hollis, it’s not a good thing.”
She sinks back onto her stool. “You’ve met him?”
“Yes.”
“Is that where you were yesterday?”
“Yes.”
“And what kind of man is he?”
“Let’s just say, your mother had a type.” The similarities between him and my father later in life were too many, and a bit top off-putting for me. I came away from our meeting yesterday feeling like the dejected twenty-year-old I’d been when I’d learned of my father’s indiscretions. Feelings I’d not felt in a very long time came flooding back and washed over me like the tidal wave that had nearly taken me down then.
“A type, huh?” I can see the memories flash in her eyes. I knew this would take us back to a very painful time in our lives that neither one of us want to relive, but if she wants to go through with this, we’ll have to revisit bitter events that dictated the very different paths our lives took.