Scorpio

by Lauren Landish

  She’s used to my rudeness and it probably doesn’t even hit on her radar that I’m a bit more rude than usual. “You want something with that club?”

  I peek back and lower my voice, trying to be nice. “Hey, how long have they been here?” I nod over to McKayla and Jaxson.

  I see her eyes dart over, and she shrugs. “McKayla? She came in about fifteen minutes ago. Then the suit came in and sat down. Didn’t seem like she was expecting him.”

  I harrumph, looking back over my shoulder. “Someone should teach that fucker some manners.”

  I look back and realize that the waitress is still there, a scared look on her face. “Is that all, Evan?”

  I take a deep breath. I didn’t mean to scare the shit outta the poor girl. “Yeah, yeah, thanks. To go. Please.”

  I add the last bit a beat late, but it’s more manners than I usually have, so score one for me. I slide a step over and try to tune in to McKayla and Jaxson, trying to hear what they’re saying without looking like I’m obviously eavesdropping.

  Jaxson’s got that wheedling yet somehow bullying tone in his voice I’ve heard before, the one that says hey, come on, buddy, do what I want . . . or else. “Let me show you the town. You’ll have a great time, I promise. I know all the best-kept secret spots around here . . .”

  He trails off, and I’m pleased to hear McKayla shoot back with more than a hint of steel in her voice, “Thanks again, Jaxson. But I’m just settling in, and I told you before, I’m not looking to date.” She’s abrupt, blunt but not rude, just to the point, and it sounds like she’s getting tired of telling him the same thing over and over.

  Maybe that’s his shtick, wear her down until she says yes. I’ve heard he’s the same way on the city council. He’ll grind down his opponents until they give him what he wants just to shut him the fuck up.

  I have a moment of good-heartedness, thinking maybe I can help her with this at least. I strut over to the table, her eyes going wide and her mouth opening in surprise as she sees my imposing form appear over Jaxson’s shoulder. Jaxson sees her reaction and half turns just as I step past and sit down beside her, one arm going around her shoulders and reaching for a fry with my other hand.

  I place a quick kiss on her cheek, taking a moment to savor her scent. She even smells sexy. “Hey, Princess. Didn’t know you were lunching here today. Could’ve saved one of us a trip and ordered together. We could have split the load back.”

  Her mouth is still open in shock, and I wink as I place the fry in her mouth and she starts chewing automatically. Watching her lips wrapping around the fry for a split second before it disappears, I regret, for what’s probably the ten thousandth time since she offered, not accepting the blowjob she wanted to give me.

  I pull my eyes away to look across at Jaxson, a cold smile on my face. I see you, motherfucker. He’s glaring at me in fury, that same tight smile on his face while his eyes are screaming bloody murder. I swear he’s acting like someone just took away his favorite toy.

  I offer a hand across the table, giving his hand a tight squeeze as we shake. You can tell a lot about a man by his handshake, and Jaxson attempts to use a paralyzing grip. Too bad he’s run into someone who isn’t going to wilt. When he tries to crush me, I crush right back, my forearm powered by a lot of hard, real work.

  Taking control of the situation, I drop my voice. “Jaxson, a pleasure to see you here. What brings you to the diner?”

  He doesn’t even flinch, which surprises me. I have always taken Jaxson to be a bully, but maybe he has just a little bit of steel in his spine. “Just grabbing lunch, but saw McKayla sitting here all alone and thought I’d be gracious enough to show her around town.”

  I eyeball him. Last time, I backed down a little because I didn’t want to start shit for my brother. But McKayla isn’t TJ, and she can’t protect herself the way he can. “Sounds nice. Gotta tell you, though, I showed her a fair amount of town the other day, didn’t I, McKayla?”

  McKayla’s head is ping-ponging between the two of us, the tension palpable. I’m not normally the type to go all hound dog, pissing on what isn’t my territory, but while I might not be good for McKayla, Jaxson damn sure isn’t either.

  His voice is tight with strain when he finally replies, looking not at me but at McKayla with a slight sneer in his voice. “Really? McKayla was just telling me that she isn’t looking to date quite yet.”

  That wakes her up like a fire alarm shock, and she puts both of her hands flat on the table, not quite smacking but damn near. “You’re right, I did say that. And I’m not dating. Anyone.”

  She’s looking at Jaxson, but her words are for me and I know it. Dammit. Sure, I shouldn’t, but I do want her. And I didn’t want to hurt her. I fucked it up pretty badly with her, but since we’re not going any further than this savior moment, it won’t matter in the long run, I guess.

  Jaxson slides out of the booth, leaning forward along the edge, almost draping himself across the table to get closer to McKayla. As he does, his voice is smooth and silky like it always is. “I’ll see you around, McKayla.”

  He smirks as his eyes trail from her eyes down to her cleavage. My hand curls into a fist against the cold tabletop, and McKayla lays a gentle hand on my thigh. It’s intimate, and as she intended, it stops me instantly, giving me something much better to focus on.

  Jaxson sees the gesture too and his jaw clenches. Wordlessly, he stands tall, but his eyes speak plenty. I’ll be seeing him around town, and I’d better watch my ass. I go twenty-six in a twenty-five and the police are going to be pulling me over.

  Nobody in the diner seems to move for a second, then McKayla and I watch as Jaxson buttons his suit coat before walking out the door and into the parking lot. I see him pause by my bike, and for split second, I think he’s gonna fuck with it. I follow his sight line and realize he’s staring at my left handlebar, with McKayla’s red panties still wrapped around it.

  Technically, they could be anyone’s, but I can tell by the rage on his face that he knows exactly who they belong to. The instant he pulls out of the lot, Mckayla scoots away from me, putting a foot of space between us. “What the fuck was that? Next time, we’ll just pull out a damn tape measure so y’all can compare dicks.”

  I shrug, getting out of the booth. “I was just trying to help. Seemed like he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

  McKayla rolls her eyes and I can see it. She knows he’s a fuckhead, but she doesn’t realize just how big of a fuckhead he is. “He’s definitely overly persistent, but I’m not some shrinking wallflower that needs a big, strong stud to save her. I was just trying to be nice about it since I still have to live here after I crush his hope that I’ll eventually say yes.”

  I huff, replying just a bit too forcefully. “You are definitely no wallflower. You’re a whole damn bouquet of fucking wildflowers.”

  I say it without even thinking about how it sounds as it tumbles out of my mouth, but her gasp is instantaneous. Her lip quivers, and her eyes shine as she reaches out, grabbing my wrist. “That is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, but you make it sound like an insult.”

  The corners of my lips turn up. I had meant it as a compliment. “You’re too good for that asshat and way too good for a fucker like me.”

  Before she can respond, the waitress calls my name for my order. McKayla looks like she’s going to say something else, but I need to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret, like ask her to go for another ride. And not on my bike this time. It’s for her own good, I remind myself again like a record on repeat. I drop a kiss to McKayla’s forehead, memorizing the floral spiciness of her shampoo. Jesus, she smells good. “Bye, Princess.”

  McKayla

  That’s it! I can’t handle this shit anymore!

  I swear I’m going on a man freeze. For the next few decades, the only boyfriend I’m going to have is made by Hitachi and has five speeds.

  Since the showdown at the diner, the guy I don’t
like keeps doggedly pursing me, sending me a Good Morning, Beautiful text almost every day, and the one I do like has some issues and hasn’t spoken to me since rolling out of the parking lot like Sir Fucking Lancelot on a chromed-out steed.

  It’s enough to make a girl crazy. Which is exactly how I’m feeling after another long day at work, where I got to glance out the window at one point to blissfully observe Evan push an SUV into the garage from the street. Watching those broad back and shoulder muscles glisten in the sun while his ass flexed in his tight jeans as he pushed and grunted his way up the slight incline to the garage left my pulse racing.

  Thank God my vibrator is as reliable as the sunrise and sunset because that’s about as often as I’ve been using it these days. Invariably during these long, body shaking sessions, my mind wanders to that bike ride with Evan and how he slipped his fingers inside me, nipping at my breasts. It’s probably not the wildest thing I’ve ever done, but with him, it was damn sure the hottest.

  Lying on my sofa after stripping out of my blouse and skirt, I replay the two scenes in my mind as my fingers caress my body, sliding across my collarbones to dip down and around my breasts. My nipples harden, ready for more, and I arch into my own touch as my palms graze the sensitive tips. I’ve already stripped off my panties. They’ve been damn-near soaked since seeing Evan today . . . and now the tingle is turning into a flame.

  I run a hand down my belly, through the trimmed tuft at the juncture of my legs to cup my needy, puffy pussy lips. Reaching over, I grab the vibrator from its place on my coffee table and spread my bent legs wide. After that show today, I could shatter myself if I don’t take it slow, and I’ve spent enough nights over the past week vibrating myself into a temporary coma.

  I turn the vibe on low and immediately gasp, my back bowing at the sensation. Fuck, it’s gonna be fast this time, and I can’t help it. I find a rhythm, pressing the pulsing vibrator inside, then retreating to do a loop higher across my clit and back down to start again. It’s driving me quickly insane as the fantasy of Evan finger fucking me plays out in my mind. Instead of the side of the road, though, it’d be in the garage, a dark, sexy streak of dirt gleaming oily as he shows the whole fucking world how hot he makes me. I’m helpless, clutching at his shoulders while he growls in my ear, ‘You’re a whole damn bouquet of fucking wildflowers’ as I buck, my hips lifting off the couch to crash down again and again. I flip the vibe all the way up for a second as in my mind, I beg him to fuck me. With a naughty grin, in my vision, Evan smiles. “When I want you . . . I’m going to make you mine.”

  Unable to resist the truth, I come, my orgasm throbbing in pulses as I thrash on my sofa, glad that I don’t share a wall with anyone.

  Brad and I step out of my car as the valet holds the door open. I hand him my keys with a distracted ‘thank you’ because my focus is entirely taken up by the scene in front of me. The huge double doors to the new Mountain Spirit Resort Hotel lobby open wide, letting people move through. Most of them are smiling and relaxed and looking every bit the wealthy tourists this place is becoming known for. In winter, it’ll be slightly different as more snow bunnies show up. But for now, they’re here to enjoy the views and the weather.

  I squeal a little bit, reaching out to grab Brad’s hand as we walk inside. Stepping up to the front desk, I give my name to the receptionist, explaining that we have a meeting with Brianna Adams. While she’s not the most famous person in the area, it’s one of those names that still commands respect and gets people to give you just that extra bit of ass kissing.

  As we wait, Brad and I sink into the luxurious chairs sprinkled throughout the lobby in little groups. “This place is quite the sight, isn’t it?” Brad asks, relaxing into the leather seat. “Kinda reminds me of being back home, one of those posh type places that we didn’t get invited to all that often.”

  I laugh, nodding. Being a hairdresser to the stars meant that I got to see a lot of the backstage and got to nab some pretty damn fine catering from time to time, but when it came to the VIP after parties . . . yeah, no getting past the velvet rope for me. “It is. Getting this contract with the resort’s event planning services will be a huge deal for us.” I hold my pinkie finger up toward Brad, leaning forward. “All right, we’re promising here . . . we are going to do whatever it takes to get this contract.”

  He smiles, linking his pinky with mine. “Obviously. But relax, I know this woman. Well, kind of. So no pinkie promise needed. Save that for the secret shit. This is a for-sure, make us or break us gig, and we’re to do whatever they need. Within reason.”

  He smirks, and we giggle a bit, both of us knowing that he’s the one with reason and I’m the one who will just go full-throttle if it’s something I want to do, regardless of the deal. That’s why we work so well together. I make him take risks and he makes me plan things out. He’s the Yin to my Yang, not to mention that we can dish about guys 24/7/365. Actually, although I’d never admit it, he’s pulled more hot guys than I ever have.

  I see a gorgeous woman crossing the lobby, headed directly for us. Maybe ten years older than me, she’s got long, luxurious brown hair that makes the stylist in me want to weep. It’s so fucking perfect for just about anything, and she has a body that’s perhaps curvier than mine. I’ve never seen her before, but something tells me she’s our woman. “Heads up, incoming.”

  Brianna Adams gives us a big smile as she comes up, exchanging hugs with Brad as if they were long lost friends. “Brad, it’s been too damn long.”

  “I know, I’m missed by all who have even touched my divine presence,” Brad jokes. “How’s Mindy? I haven’t had a chance to even go down to her place since getting to town.”

  “For which she owes you a butt kicking,” Brianna jokes. “But I get it. And you must be McKayla.”

  “It’s a pleasure. Brad’s told me . . . stuff.”

  Brianna chuckles, shaking her head. “I’m just the quiet one of the group. Right now, my husband and I are co-owners of this resort, and I’m taking on the task of being the events manager as well. Let’s say it’s our chance to try and make a family business.” She offers her hand as she speaks, and we each shake with her.

  “I see when you say family business, you swing for the fences,” I quip, looking around. “Most people would start . . . smaller.”

  “Gavin and I never do things small,” Brianna says with a little smile that makes Brad chuckle. I’m confused, but I’ll get the story later, I’m sure. “I’ve heard about your new salon in town. I’m glad you called. Let’s head back to my office.”

  We reach the office and settle onto the couches in the gorgeous space. It’s almost like a hotel room in itself, and I can understand why in all the TV shows they just have the characters live at the hotel. I wish I could live in a space like this.

  “Okay,” Brianna says, offering us two coffees that are divine. “Let’s get to the good stuff! Can I see your portfolios?” Brad reaches into his bag and pulls out our ‘dick stroker’ book, as he calls it. Brianna flips through, oohing and ahhing over details about my hair work and Brad’s makeup work.

  After several minutes of scanning, she looks up, grinning. “Very nice. So, I’ve got two things. One, I’d love to contract with the Triple B Salon to be our go-to service providers for our events. We have our own spa and space that you can use if you’d like, but our spa employees are already stretched thin, and when we have large wedding parties come in, it can be a bit overloaded. It doesn’t make business sense to staff continuously for the events when they’re a few days here and there on the calendar. And let’s be honest, if a bride is getting married here and there are Hollywood stylists in town, she’s gonna book you two. So this will just make it a smoother offering that is automatically available. We do quite a few events, typically one every week, but not all of those are hair- and makeup-type things. Some are conferences and such. But the weddings? Just go ahead and block your entire May, June, and July for them because we’re going to be slammed.
You can determine your own fee schedule rates, and the hotel will add a ten percent fee to the top for our take. What do you think?”

  Brad and I look at each other, trying not to squeal like the little bitches we currently are. This will be it for us. Our ticket to making sure we make it. Yes, we’ll need regular clients in town to stay busy, but having this contract and volume of work will keep us floating throughout the year, happy as larks. Well, if larks got paid!

  Brad finally stops grinning enough to make words. “I think that sounds perfect. The only thing I’d say we should consider is that having us take over your spa space that frequently might be an issue for your appointments there.”

  Brianna nods, tapping her well-manicured finger on the desktop. “You’re right. Okay, we’ll see how that works. McKayla, you haven’t said anything yet. Any input?”

  I’m still smiling like a loon and just shake my head. “Oh, I’m totally in. I was just wondering how many extra hands Brad and I are going to have to hire if things keep going like this. So I’m in like sin! Sounds like a great deal for both of us, and I’m excited to work with you. My only question is, you said you had two things and that was one. What’s the other?”

  Brianna laughs lightly, teasing her long locks. “Oh yes, the other thing is, I’m gonna need you to do my hair! I’ve never had a real Hollywood stylist doll me up. My anniversary is coming up, so I want to really go all out, so you two can do my hair and makeup. Gavin won’t know what hit him!”

  As if her talking about him triggered his appearance, there’s a knock on the door. “Bri, you in here?”

  A mountain of a man in a custom-made suit comes strutting into the room. I know it’s custom-made because I’ve never seen a suit with that extreme a taper from the shoulders to the waist before. Well, I take that back. One time, I saw one of the Venice Beach bodybuilder guys in a suit in Beverly Hills . . . but this man’s a lot more handsome. He walks straight up to Brianna, picking her up in a bear hug as he plants a big kiss on her lips.