Sweet Venom (Crazy in Love #1)

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Sweet Venom (Crazy in Love #1) Page 11

by Kirsty-Anne Still


  “That’s my sister,” I hear Lawson’s accent penetrate the air. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “Hey! Tess, Bay-bee, it’s no ladies allowed,” Liam pipes up as we walk passed them all to head to the bar.

  “Hey, Pencil Dick,” Tess starts, carrying onto the bar. “Zip. It.”

  Leaning against the bar, Tess looks at all the men sitting around her brother and licks her lips. The men erupt into a hoard of laughter, all ripping into Liam at Tess’s comment and Tess just offers a small, poised smirk before turning to the bartender.

  “You goin’ to let her speak to me like that?” Liam asks, cutting above the roaring of laughter.

  “Yeah,” Lawson mocks, raising his beer to Liam. “Better my sister and not me, Pencil Dick.”

  “We only wanted a drink,” Tess admits friendly, putting her hands up in the air as if to admit defeat. “Thought our girl Ashley could meet the gang, too.” She turns to the bartender and pats the seat beside her, forcing me to take the seat beside. “Two scotch on the rocks, please, Charlie,” she orders, holding up two fingers as if to emphasize the order. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  “Nice to see you back,” he acknowledges, his American accent accentuated with an Irish twang falls thickly from between his lips. “Must be why the boss is smiling,” Charlie continues. “Or is it down to you?” he asks, turning to face me.

  “Definitely not me,” I say, my tone nonchalant. I catch Tess looking at me, her eyes giving me a warning look. “But that’s going to change.”

  “Good girl,” she lips at me, her words carrying no noise.

  I settle into my seat, waiting for my drink so I can drain it instantly.

  “So, what are you both doing here?” Lawson asks, leaning against the bar next to me. “And looking dressed to hit the town.”

  “That’s because we are,” Tess alerts him. “If the boys can play, so can the girls.”

  I look at him, standing before me in jeans and a t-shirt, looking so casually hot it hurts.

  “Think you should meet the gang, Princess,” he says, pulling me from my thoughtfulness. I notice now how his eyes are looking down. “You look pretty hot in that dress and leathers, by the way.”

  “Was the point,” I say, before letting the blush win. I grin when I see how he responds, looking pleasantly shocked at me finally finding a voice. I look around, finding all eyes are on us. “Who have we got then?”

  “Come,” he says, putting his hand to help me down from the bar stool. He leads me to the table full of men, some I’ve seen back at the loft, others are new to me. “Guys … meet the new candidate,” he announces, pushing me forward by pressing his hand into the small of my back. “Ashley, meet the guys.”

  I nervously wave as they all grumble

  “You lot could be a bit more hospitable,” Lawson sneers, unhappily. “No matter the circumstances, she’s going to be with us, so be a bit fucking polite.” I can hear the anger lifting his voice, and I watch how they all react. Each of them sits taller, more alert. “So … you’ve met Liam and Harrison,” he says, pointing them out in the crowd. “But you’re yet to meet Frazer and Nate properly even though they’ve been around … they’ll be with us when I get jobs, so get to know them like you have Liam.”

  I blush, locking eyes with Liam. I know he’s aware I’m thinking about that moment in the loft when he had me pinned against the wall.

  “You’ve got Jimmy … he goes by Hugz.” Lawson catches my confusion and laughs. “He likes to hug a guy when he stabs them. No matter the reputation, people still let him hug them.” I make a mental note. “The guy over there is Lug,” he points to a guy smoking a cigar. “His real name is Samuel, but he usually helps Mac carry the bodies … helps lug them.”

  “Do the rest of you have weird nicknames or is it a chosen few?” I ask, looking straight at Liam, knowing what I’d name him.

  “Any given dwarf will do,” Lawson chirps, putting an arm around me. “Liam is currently Grumpy.”

  “Fuck you,” Liam grumbles, solidifying Lawson’s claims. “I have every right to be grumpy when it’s meant to be a guys day … but they can’t stay away.”

  “You mean my sister and my girl?” Lawson asks in a menacing tone. “They’re the exception to the rule.” Lawson releases me and points to the bar. “Make sure my sister doesn’t spend a fucking dime tonight.”

  Liam gets up, scurrying over to the bar where Tess sits nursing her drink. She laughs the moment Liam runs into the bar stool I just vacated, and he pays up the tab.

  “I fancy a game of pool,” Lawson states, reaching for his beer. “I believe it’s you and me, Nate … fifty-dollar bet.”

  “You’re on, Boss,” Nate bargains, downing his drink. He gets up; brushes passed me to head to the several pool tables in the corner. “Charlie … get me another beer and whatever the boss wants to please!”

  “I’ll have what the girls are drinking,” Lawson orders, looking at me. “Sorry to abandon you, but I have fifty dollars to win.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, being understanding, placing my hand onto his bicep. “I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”

  I walk away without him leaving me standing in the middle of the pub on my own. I go back to the bar and stand before Liam. I tap him on the shoulder, forcing him to spin around to look at me.

  “Can I have my seat back or are you going to catch flies all day?” I ask politely, letting him know how he looks at Tess. “Don’t think the boss will appreciate you ogling his baby sister.”

  “You’re just jealous that I’d rather have her over you,” Liam remarks, trying to act as vindictive as he can.

  I chuckle in disbelief. “Believe me, Liam, if I could have you or the boss I wouldn’t have the lap dog.”

  “Well, sweet baby Jesus!” Liam exclaims, slapping the bar and moving out my way. “The girl has a mouth on her fit for The Firm … maybe you are worth it!”

  “It’s not all I have that’s fit for The Firm,” I tell him, slipping onto the stool beside Tess. “Now, can I have my drink in peace with Tess or are you going to eye fuck her all afternoon?”

  Tess laughs, setting her glass down. “What’s it going to be, Pearson?” she asks, spinning the glass against the wooden bar top. “Buy my drink or risk castration?”

  “Fine,” Liam caves, throwing a twenty-dollar bill onto the bar before stalking away.

  Tess and I exchange a look, and I decide to watch her brother and try to gauge what sort of approach I can take.

  I watch him play against Nate. If I wasn’t the onlooker of last night’s events, I would’ve assumed he was like any other guy his age, having an afternoon of liquor and placing bets on games of pool. But I know otherwise. The violent nature that mars a good-looking man like Lawson is a tragic affair. The one thing I learned first-hand and I fear it’s one of the reasons I’ve found I’m attracted to him most – I’ve fallen for the antihero because as luck would have it, I got saved by him.

  “It’s been a tense twenty-four hours, huh?” Tess asks, joining in where I’m looking. “Why not go and play against him?” she questions, looking back at me. “We’re not all about killer intents and messy clean-ups. We’re all quite normal beneath the surface.” She gives me a reassuring smile. “You can be too, you know?”

  “How is that possible?” I ask, not seeing how it’s humanly possible for them to be anything but what they are.

  “It’s like any given job,” she enlightens me. “They’re not on call twenty-four-seven. So, go and play against him.”

  I look just in time to see Lawson smash the black ball, causing it to roll across the green cloth and spiral into a corner pocket.

  “Now’s your chance,” she pushes, coercing me with gentle persuasion. “Take your drink and ask for a game.”

  Without any thought, I reach for my drink, and before I can stop myself I’m walking toward Lawson and Nate, my body sashaying sexily across the bar until he notices me coming toward him. I see he tries to repress the
smile, but the way his eyes look over my body tells me all the things I need to know.

  He’s like any hot-blooded male, after all.

  “I bet you fifty dollars I can beat you,” I say, placing my hand and drink onto the side of the pool table.

  “Do you even have any money?” Lawson asks, standing up, using the cue to lean against.

  “No,” I admit, smirking. “But I intend to be fifty dollars up by the end of the evening.”

  Lawson chuckles at my joke, and I feel myself become more brazen. Knowing that I’ve riled him up in just a few short seconds sky rockets my confidence and I walk around the table. I decide to up the ante and leaving my drink on the side, I ease myself from the leather jacket and toss it onto one of the chairs nearby.

  “Now …” I start, eagerly. “What do you say?”

  “You’re on,” he declares, reaching into his pocket to pull out a wad of money. “But I’ll make it a bit more fun. I’m puttin’ down one-hundred dollars.”

  “I can’t pay that back,” I say, looking at the money.

  “If you’re going to be by my side, I’ll be making sure you get a paycheck for it,” he tells me, giving me a wink to let me know he’ll make sure I’ll be okay. “So you can pay me back on payday.”

  “Okay,” I accept the deal and lean against the table. “So, what do you say, Matthews?” I ask, using his surname to make the situation more playful. “You prepared to lose to a girl?”

  I see the twinkle in his eye, the one that shows his playful nature, the same that clearly loves a good dare. The more time I’m with this man, the more I realize just how many sides there are to him, like the facets of a crystal cut diamond, each more mesmerizing than the last.

  “Prepare to suck my balls,” he tells me, grinning away. “I just haven’t opted to choose what balls those will be,” he continues, chuckling to himself.

  I stand, lost in the heat of the moment, feeling myself become unashamedly flustered, and I have to look away. I find Tess across the room, and she goads me from a distance, letting me know that what I’m doing is right.

  I go over to the wall of cues, plucking off one I think is suitable, but Lawson takes that out of my hands.

  “Too heavy,” he says, replacing it with another slimmer cue. “This one’s perfect for you… slim and petite. Just like it’s user.”

  “Thanks,” I say, standing by while he sets the next game up, placing the balls into the triangular mold. “So who breaks?” I ask as he places the white ball ready.

  “Ladies first,” he goads, walking away from the end of the table.

  I smile, listening enough to take my place. I lean forward, consumed with making sure his eyes are on me, and I pull the cue back, letting it go forward with ease to send the white ball manically into the others.

  It barely breaks them up.

  “Shit,” I say at my lousy attempt.

  “It’s fine,” he says, soothingly. “Better luck next time, Suga’.” He takes his place, doing the same as I had just done, but he’s flawless and the balls spread across the table. One goes into a nearby pocket. “Looks like you’re stripes.”

  “Okay,” I say, watching him take another shot. As he fails to get another go, I head over to the white ball, bending over the table to stretch out.

  Suddenly, my body’s covered by his, Lawson’s cologne infiltrates my system with vicious intent, and I’m instantly intoxicated.

  “Let me show you how,” he says, whispering into my eye. His hand comes to cover mine, slowing easing it down the cue. “The aim is to keep a focus on one ball, make it yours and shoot.”

  “Is that your method for killing?” I ask, craning my head away to look at him. “Because it seems easy.”

  He looks at me, a devilish glint in his eyes. “It is easy.”

  His hands wrap around my waist, his fingers tighten their grip a little when he forces my body to move into the correct position. As I push closer against his groin, feeling the bulge of his cock against my backside, I move deliberately to cause a groan to escape. I continue to play coy, leaning forward, stretching myself across the whole length of the cue and listening to his advice.

  And just like that, I listen. Watching my ball fly into the pocket opposite me.

  It really is that easy.

  “See,” he says, resisting the urge to gloat.

  He leaves me alone after that and instantly the rush of cold air is truly noticeable. I watch him from the corner of my eye as I move around the table only to bend forward, pulling the cue back only to catapult the white ball forward, watching as the stripe balls scatter, another hitting its goal.

  We play in tandem, neither one getting further ahead than the other. Until we’re left with the black ball and the tension raises. I haven’t taken much notice of the gang watching us until now, but now I feel every set of eyes on me, waiting for me to trip, so they can all see the façade I had worn.

  I set myself up, confident I’ll hit the ball, but when I shoot, I miss the pocket, leaving Lawson with the chance to pull this game back and into his favor. I watch as he looks happy with himself for winning and I react without thought.

  “How about a drink?” I ask, just as he goes to shoot, but he jumps, and the white ball misses its target. “It’s a bit dry in here.” I raise my empty glass. “Don’t you think?”

  “You little bitch,” he says, fake anger lances through him, I see that clearly.

  I roll my shoulders, going in for the final shot, keep my eyes on the black ball, ignoring Lawson who’s deliberately stood beyond the ball. I lick my lips, poise myself as he leans in and while I can see his mouth moving I take little notice of him – a trick I’ve learned to perfect over the years.

  I shoot, the white ball barrels off and hits the black ball which spirals into the corner pocket by Lawson’s right hand.

  “Yes!” I say, fist pumping the air. When I stop, I see Lawson coming around the table, and I start to walk toward him. “Call it a celebratory drink!”

  He says nothing but gives me a menacing look.

  “You played me there,” he says, pushing my body against the table. “You knew how to play all along.”

  “Why, of course,” I admit, putting my hand out and tilting my head as I play innocent. “Where’s my hundred bucks?”

  He laughs, paying up, but before grabbing my hand and forcing me to remain pinned between him and the table. His eyes are emblazoned, his gaze heated.

  “You don’t play me again. Okay, Princess?”

  “I think we’re barely even after last night,” I state, unmoved by his lame attempt at frightening me.

  “I said I was sorry,” he tells me, bitterness sharpens his words. “I can’t take it back.”

  “Nope, you can’t, but you helped me to realize I refuse to be anyone else’s doormat,” I admit, letting him in on that secret. “I’ve been one for too many years, and I refuse to continue living like that.”

  “So, what?” he starts, a hand coming onto my hip to draw me close to him. “You’re gonna to string me along to prove your worth.”

  “You are the boss,” I say, bringing my hand up to play with the collar of his shirt. “I think I’m still on probation … it’s not gone well until right about now.”

  “And now? Do you think it’s going better?”

  I shrug, my fingers playing with his collar. “Just proving I’m good enough for you and the gang.” I crane my neck up, my lips inches from his, our eyes meeting in dangerous proximity. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s time we go!” Tess declares, coming over to me, taking my hand and dragging me from my spot from her brother. She grabs my jacket, the one-hundred dollars from my hand and drags me from the far side of the pub. “You’ve proved yourself!”

  I look over my shoulder, catching him still staring, but allow myself to get lost in the night.

  “So, that’s Ashley,” Frazer muses as I fall into my seat.

  Charlie brings us a new round of b
eers, and I rub my face, trying to rid the tension that has consumed my body. I roll my shoulders and sink into my chair as I grab my beer and go for a solid glug.

  “She does look good in those dresses,” Liam exclaims, and everyone looks at him. “She was just slumped there in this tight little dress last night as well!” Liam gloats, his hands animatedly cut through the air. “Knocked herself out cold somehow. That’s how we found her.”

  “Clearly her stomach’s not in the game!” Charlie quips from behind the bar. “We all know only a few girls can cope.” He looks at the door, watching as Tess hails a cab. “And sorry to say it, Lawson, your sister and that girl that just sat in here are not made for it.”

  “I think she is,” Sean, Charlie’s brother, admits.

  “What makes you say that?” Liam asks, looking between Charlie and his brother.

  “Because I know that girl … and from the way she handled Lawson just now,” Sean comments, trailing off, sitting at the bar. “I knew her name as soon as you said it and as soon as she walked in I knew I knew her.”

  “She ran around with some of the guys we know,” I comment, toying with the label on my beer. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we’d all had a run in or heard about her.”

  “Ashley Johnson,” Sean starts, looking at his brother. “Didn’t they assume she’d died?”

  Charlie stops cleaning the glasses, setting it down he looks thoughtful as he thinks it over. He gives his brother a strange look before the pieces all fall together.

  “Didn’t Dan Cooke’s place go up in flames?” Charlie suddenly asks, looking at his brother. “She was tied to him back then. They thought she was an escort he always bought. Everyone died.”

  “Except one,” I grouse, feeling the tension growing in my shoulders.

  O’Reilly’s should have been my safe haven, but apparently, I work with a group of fucking gossipers. The only solace here is the beer in my hand. The need for something stronger is there, but I hold it back, reminding myself that I need a clear head to deal with what’s waiting at home for me.

 

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