“We have a hostage situation, Bradley,” his shaky voice continues, “How quickly can your people arrive at the base?”
“Soon. How bad?”
“Explosives are involved.”
“I’ll oversee from here; you’ll have someone there in a few minutes.”
I hang up and start shooting emails while trying to find eyes on the ground. The adrenaline rush surges through me as I plan the operation and gather my people around. Nothing like a last minute operation to shake the sour taste of my family.
I should head to Africa, continue surveillance on the paramilitary cell we’re spying on. That’s less lethal than my mother’s lectures, Dad’s worries, and Ainsley’s green eyes and tasty body.
JC: Princess, want to go hunting?
AJ: Hunting? No, I love animals, why at night?
JC: Yes, hunting. We need fresh meat. There’s a bar downtown that has Open Mic on Wednesday.
AJ: Yeah, I’m in. I’m bored to tears, and Breezy is tired after today’s recording.
JC: MJ said that it went great; you should provide your services more often.
AJ: Thank you, but no thanks. Where do we meet?
JC: I’m outside your house waiting for you. Eleanor could use a bath.
AJ: Yes, whenever you want, you can come over and wash her.
JC: So kind of you to offer, but no. I’ll pay for the carwash.
AJ: Why don’t you come in, I have to change.
JC: No, I’ll wait outside, just hurry princess.
AJ: As you wish, prince charming.
I hurry to my closet, grab the light-gray, polka dot halter-neck top, a pair of skinny jeans and my gray, cutout ankle boots. My hair goes up in a messy bun with a few curls covering my neck. JC honks as I put on my silver hoops. He has no patience, but who am I to talk when I’m pretty much a female version of JC? To hurry the process, I grab my makeup bag, pull my jacket out of the coat closet, and head to meet my brother.
“Took you long enough,” he says tapping his phone.
“This doesn’t happen in two minutes, Jacob Christian.” I wave pointing at my clothing. Then open my cosmetic bag and apply some mascara, blush, and lipstick.
“I should send you back to change.” He starts the car and drives away. “You’re going to attract attention.”
My brothers hate that I show any skin. Arms, cleavage, legs, or back. If possible, they’d choose my clothes, but I don’t let them. “Take a hike. Where’s the third amigo?” I close my cosmetic bag, placing it inside my messenger bag. Then I take my driver’s license out of my wallet and shove the entire thing under the back seat.
“Busy. He’ll meet us later.” I side glance with the typical narrow gaze, indicating to tell me the whole thing. “MJ is with the new downstairs neighbor.”
“A new one?” I screech.
“He has a different booty call from downstairs every year,” JC reminds me.
“Eww, I don’t have to know that.” What is wrong with my family? I love them, but do they have to tell me about their sex-capades? Brothers. “I don’t go telling you guys when I have sex or not.” Not that I had any lately.
“Princess, my sister isn’t allowed to have sex, ever.” He gives me a quick glance before taking a sharp turn.
“Oh, don’t worry; I’m heading to a monastery.” I press my lips fighting to control the laugh.
“Those are for men, silly,” he quips, as he parks in front of the Silver Moon Tavern. A one-story brick building. The windows are full of neon signs of a few brands of beer. “You mean a convent.”
“I’d go to a convent if I were into girls, dude,” I smirk, opening the door. “Can you imagine the things that are going to happen in the monastery? All those men being celibate. Mmm, the orgies.” I slam the door and swing my hips while walking to the entrance, hoping someone stares at me just to irk him. How dare he tell me that I shouldn’t have sex? I don’t tell him not to fuck every girl who crosses his path. At least MJ has a steady booty call each year.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”
I smile sweetly and show my ID to the big, muscled man wearing a navy blue stretched t-shirt with the words Silver Moon on the front.
“Hilarious,” I reply searching around the place. When I spot the silhouette of an almost naked girl leaning on the bar’s logo, I point and ask, “Is this a strip club? I thought this was a musician quest, not making me your wing girl to get laid.”
He growls and gives me that peeled-teeth smile and dirty-look attitude. I refrain from flipping him the finger and take in my surroundings.
JC leads me to the small bar in the farthest corner from the stage where there are a few empty seats.
“You want something to drink?” JC cocks his head toward the bartender.
“That yummy beer you have at your place, or whatever you decide, thank you,” I request, knowing I’ll ask for water after two sips. Instead of worrying about the drinks, I scan the area.
Next to the stage in the corner, I spot a couple of men with their backs to everyone. One of them towers the other. Broad shoulders, a slim waist, and a pair of baggy jeans that don’t let me admire his ass-et. If I wasn’t having a self-imposed dry spell—no more sex without strings—I’d be walking toward him and making sure he’d take me home… unless he was otherwise occupied with a girlfriend or a wife.
Pulling my eyes away from that man-candy, I rotate myself and take a drink of the beer my brother ordered for me.
“How are things with you, Ainse?” JC’s mischievous tone makes me want to punch him. “Are your doms treating you right? Learning new tricks?”
Yep, he deserves to be slapped several times, but I refrain. There’re too many witnesses around, and maybe a security camera.
“I’m not a submissive, and the students are children, you idiot.” After a gulp of beer, I let out a frustrated breath. “Work is good. I interviewed for a preschool job at a private institution for next fall. That’s in case nothing opens at the school where I’m working.”
“You know, if you get a real job, we can’t call you a sub anymore,” he whines, and the voice is no different than a four-year-old.
To change the subject, and before some bystander thinks I’m this submissive who’s selling her body, I ask, “What happened to blondie?” I’m half-curious and half trying to find a way to taunt him back. Blondie is woman who decided that the one night she spent with my brother meant forever and stalked him for two weeks in a row.
He grunts. “She’s gone. I had to use your suggestion and tell her to get tested for Chlamydia.”
“No, that was MJ’s suggestion.” Which at the time sounded stupid. “I said… restraining order.” I seem to have lost his attention. When I follow his gaze, I want to slam his head against the wall. His target is a red-haired girl who is flipping her perfectly flat hair as she smiles coyly at him.
Didn’t he learn anything from the blondie incident?
“Are you going to send me home in a cab?”
“Most likely MJ will drive you, little sis.” His bright grin and flirty wink to red makes her giggle. He follows the flirtatious approach by asking the bartender to send the girl another round of whatever she’s having. “A man has his needs, AJ. It’s been a couple of weeks without sex.”
I poke my ears with my fingers, but I can hear him loud and clear. The last time was when psycho interrupted his coital moment with another woman to claim him. Pretty crazy. I turn myself toward hot-tall-sexy. He starts to rotate his head as if he knows someone is staring. I spin around before he catches me. The last thing I want is to flirt tonight.
Liar, I so want to flirt. A girl has her needs, and my hand isn’t doing it for me anymore. I should look into toys. Now, that’s a brilliant idea.
JC’s brow crooks, and I can feel he’s about to do something stupid. He lifts his hand and waves.
I try to pull it down, but with that crazy strength of his, I can’t. As I fight with him like a little child, a s
ilhouette stands beside us. My heart flutters, then accelerates to an abnormal speed and my hands sweat. Not ready for…
“Nine?” I close one eye as I gradually turn towards that low, sexy voice.
Mason Bradley.
I’m a mix of fluster goo and annoyed bitch. After the big kiss at my house before he left, I haven’t seen or spoken to him. Receiving daily texts, pictures of puppies with cute pouty faces, and other e-junk didn’t suffice my need for communication. Not after the kiss.
“Hi.” I wave like a twelve-year-old in front of a heartthrob. “T-ten.” I was about to call him tall and hot. Thank goodness I call him Ten from time to time. A nickname that I came up with while growing up. Cute and silly. Because of my middle name, Janine, he nicknamed me Nine. I came up with calling him Ten, as nine and ten, always go together. Forever.
It had always been easy for me to get along with him. The pictures that my parents have of us children, in which Mason appears, he’s always next to me. We’re Nine and Ten, great buddies and friends. Except, my nine now wants to properly inspect his ten.
That sounds stupid, not dirty, AJ. In fact, grab a hold of yourself, Ainsley Janine!
“Hey there, Mason.” I try again, this time wiggling my fingers as the rest of my body is paralyzed by the combination of excitement, embarrassment, and the memory of our last kiss.
The kiss. The taste of Mason fades daily and is about to disappear forever.
“My work here is done.” JC clap-shakes his hands and pushes himself out of his seat.
“What?” I shrill.
“You needed to get out of that house.” He irritates me some days more than others. “Mingle with a non-family member.”
“You’re not leaving me with him,” I scream-whisper at JC. “For all we know he’s with someone else.”
“Are you with someone else, Bradley?” JC gloats after that question.
If I continue, he’s going to embarrass me from here to the moon. I look away and chuckle. I’m definitely behaving like a stupid teenager.
Mason shakes his head and takes the seat JC freed seconds ago.
“Then, I give you my blessing, children,” my brother booms, as in that precise moment the guy on the stage finally begins to play his guitar. “AJ, do you have fare for the cab in case MJ doesn’t make it tonight?”
“I’ll make sure she gets home.” Mason pats JC’s back, assuring him that the hero will protect the penniless bystander who happens to need his heroic services.
My brother salutes us and turns around, disappearing into the small crowd that’s beginning to gather. Red grins as JC stalks towards her. Yep, my brother is getting some tonight.
Lucky bastard. I’m getting some kind of… I don’t know. Mase confuses me. The last time we saw each other, we couldn’t talk much about us, but he kissed me. The type of earth-shattering, bent-on-your-knees-thanking-the-universe-for-that-blissful-moment kiss. In addition, it marked my heart. The same heart that had not long ago left the intensive-care unit for broken souls. It wants once again to move out of my chest and find a permanent residence. This time inside Mason’s chest, next to his warm, sexy one. Dumb heart. That’s unlikely to happen anytime soon…or ever. First and foremost, I want to avoid being hurt by a friend. Then, well, after ‘the kiss’, we haven’t said much to each other. That kiss shifted something inside me; something huge happened between the two of us. That, or I’ve been delusional since then. The latter might be the reality of life. I’m starting to get the picture that, for Mason, it meant the same as eating a snack between meals. He’s glad he had it, but he won’t remember about it two minutes after he finished it. The chances that he even remembers it are the same as winning the million dollar lottery.
“Let’s get out of here,” Mason orders, his smoky voice makes my skin tingle. “Or do you want something from the bar?”
Another kiss, please? Nah, those aren’t part of the menu.
When my brain finally catches up, I realize what just happened. He’s taking me home. Great, my night is now officially over. So much for finding new artists or getting out of the house as JC intended. I pat myself. Damn, I forgot to bring a credit card or a bill with me.
“Wait, no, don’t worry about me.” I slide closer to where he sits and whisper in his ear. “I’m going to ask JC for my purse. It’s in his car. You can leave; I can get myself home if MJ doesn’t show up.” When I try to bolt to where red and JC sit, he grasps my arm, not only bringing me to a stop, but drawing me to him. I stand between his legs; his hands hold my waist. My body is heating up. He better release me soon or I’m going to combust.
Call the fire department.
We’re barely inches apart, and I’m enjoying the view, the feel, and the Mason. His eyebrows knit together, his lips tighten, and his gray eyes narrow at me.
“Why?” One word with a gruff tone that is less amused than his handsome face. His earthy-woody scent makes me want to bury my face in his chest, making a home inside this small enclosure he created with his body. “We’re heading to a quieter place so we can talk. Unless you don’t want my company. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
I angle my face and try to read his facial expression. It’s impossible; his features and dull eyes give nothing away. “I thought you wanted to drop me off at my house.” I decide not to play detective and give him straight answers. “It wasn’t my intention for you to have to change your plans because my brother is horny—a daily occurrence. It runs in the family.”
Oops. I purse my lips and squeeze my eyes for a few breaths. I hope he thinks I’m talking about everyone but me.
“My plan was to head to the office, order a pizza, and maybe work some more.” He glides a hand over my cheek. “I’d rather catch up with you. It’s been ages.”
“You noticed?”
He squeezes my shoulder lightly and nods at me. He rises from his seat, grabs my hand, and pulls me closer to him. “Of course I noticed.” His whisper tickles my ear. “Your absence carved a hole inside of me.”
His words run through my entire body, caressing every corner and making me feel extra special. My brain is the one that stops the fluttery feeling with one word—delusional. Right. I have no idea if he’s talking about feelings or missing that buddy-buddy relationship we have.
Mason lightly kisses the top of my head, like a guy would do to his best girl buddy. There goes my mind overthinking again. My heart, well, between those words and his kiss, it’s tap dancing around in my chest. Poor thing, she believes Mason is here for her. As my heart is siphoning all my energy with that happy dance, which is making my body quiver, my mind stops functioning. Brain failure.
Mason leads me toward the door, but not before speaking to the bartender and the guy next to him. The same gray-haired man he was talking with when I first spotted him.
When we reach the exit, my shoulders feel light and the breeze sprouts goosebumps on my arms. My brain cells start to function again, hinting at the fact that I don’t have my jacket. Or my purse. Oh well, I’ll figure it out later. JC can drop it tomorrow or I can pick it up. Not a big deal; I have it covered.
I stop myself from dipping my head and taking a taste of those plump, rosy-peach colored lips. I plant a peck on the top of her head to satiate the need of devouring her lips. Not the same, but that’ll have to do for the foreseeable future.
“Reed,” I call out to the owner of the Silver Moon. “I’ll send you a quote no later than tomorrow with what you asked for.”
“Do you want anything to drink?” Reed questions again as he wipes a glass with a white towel. “It’s on the house.”
“Nah, heading somewhere more private.” I tilt my head to where Ainse stands. “Maybe grab some dinner.”
“You’re fast,” he chuckles, eyeing Nine. “Never seen a girl picked up this quick.”
“Not a girl,” I stop him. “She’s a friend. See the guy with long, dark-blond hair sitting with the redhead? That’s her brother. Text me when he leaves, please. If he�
��s drunk, take away his keys. I’ll give you a discount for that.”
JC has his periods, and right now he’s at the point of drinking until he passes out or fucks as many girls as he can. Women who don’t give a shit about the poor man. From what I remember, it should end in a couple of weeks, but babysitting him is not fun. That’s why I decided to stick around until he’s back to his old self. Ainse doesn’t deserve to see her brother behaving like life isn’t worth living. MJ and I agreed on that. The few jobs I could’ve taken for the coming week have been delegated.
“You sure you don’t want to stay?” Ainse sucks her lip, unsure of why I want to head out.
There are many reasons for that, like wanting to suck that damn lip. I also want us to chat. The texts we exchange back and forth aren’t enough anymore.
“I don’t want you to change your plans.”
“Didn’t you hear?” I bring her close to my body. “Work. I was here for work, and after I had finished my meeting, I was heading to do more work. You’re the obvious choice, always. There’s nothing better I want to do, but catch up with you.”
Her big, green eyes grow two sizes and brighten. I guess I said the right thing. The words made her happy, or whatever she is now. And my heart pulses faster. No. That’s not good. This girl isn’t good for me. Today is the perfect example of why I should run away. Another few years avoiding her should fix the lust. It’s hard to fight, as her pull over me is invisible. Like tonight. The moment she entered the room, I knew she was there. My body tensed with anticipation, and my head spun to see her walking with her chin up, swaying her hips and making every head in the room turn to where she stood. My blood boiled as the men around salivated at the sight of her. That’s wrong. I shouldn’t care about other men looking at her, or the fact that her eyes brightened as she smiled wickedly at her brother. She had won a round of something against him.
Exiting the room, I place a hand against the small of her back and walk close to her. I tell myself that I’m avoiding the crowd, but I know that I’m marking my territory to any men who are looking at her. She’s off limits.
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