The Art of Me (The All of Me Book 1)

by S. J. Blaze

“Charlie, we aren’t done. I’m sorry I missed your birthday. If you’d let me, I’d make it up to you. I’d give you a lifetime of making things up to you. You just have to trust me.” He leans forward and pecks my lips and then rubs my lip again. “Mine,” he whispers and quickly kisses me again before he’s out of the door.

  It’s my birthday weekend and I’m so tired of these alpha brainless assholes in my life thinking they can dictate my every thought and orgasm.

  I decided to leave work early and do some serious damage to my credit cards by purchasing all new clothes and boots. I’m going to party in style. My hair is straight down, my makeup dark and smoky, lips blood red. I’m feeling the heat and dishing it out, wearing what might be considered a black leather corset, but it’s strapped with buckles in the back. It’s so tight, it makes my boobs pop up revealing lots of cleavage. My leather pants sit low and are cinched with more of the same belt buckle, but along the sides. It looks like I’m wearing only half the leather pants as the buckles are the other half. There’s nothing underneath. Nothing.

  I’m dirty, naughty, and I’m going to have a fucking good time, even if it kills me!

  Malice drives us to BedHead and accompanies me into the main level. I set tonight up as my birthday bash, so the place is crawling with people. I grab a drink and head for the main bar. Show time! I signal to the DJ and put on my headset.

  “Hello, Head-onites!” I scream into the mic as the lights embrace me. I laugh as I listen to the sounds of the club shift towards me, screaming in excitement. “How are we doing tonight, lovers?” More screams and I notice a bunch of good-looking men closing in on the bar.

  “Allow me to introduce you to some of the sexiest women in Boston…my very own minxy mixologists,” I scream and the girls climb onto the bar. Again, this part is all routine…well, when I’m in the mood to do it. My club, my playground, my rules.

  “Starting with my right; we have the lucky Lola. Next is the bodacious Babs, killer Kelly, followed by delicious Debbie, smack that ass Sammy, and lastly sex kitten Savvy.” The girls bow or wave as I go through each name and then they jump off the bar. Just like we do every time. But this time around, I’m going to change things up a bit.

  “As for me, lovers, well some of you know me as…” I wait putting my hand to my ear. People all over shout “SHOOTER.”

  “That’s right, they call me Shooter.” I laugh. “And did ya’ll know that I’m celebrating my birthday?” More shouts.

  “Hhhhmmm, I guess that means I deserve some extra birthday love tonight. Who’s willing to throw some extra love my way?” More screams and I look down and see a gorgeous guy eyeing me like I’m ice cream on a hot day, dying for a lick. Then the DJ kicks in playing Marilyn Monroe’s Happy Birthday song to JFK, and everybody in the club sings happy birthday to ME!

  I put my hand over my heart. Who needs family to remember you when you have an entire freaking club singing your praise? “Thank you lovers of BedHead! Now I have an important question: who has gotten HEAD TONIGHT?” Everyone screams and I see ice cream man licking his lips.

  “What about you?” I ask pointing at him. He smiles and shakes his head ‘no.’ “No?” I ask, aghast. I reach down and try to pull him onto the bar. “Ladies, this gentleman….what’s your name, sexy?”

  “Drake,” he yells towards me still holding my hand. He wobbles onto the bar and stands possessively next to me. He has potential.

  “Drake has been neglected in the Head department.” I look at Drake, still holding on to me.

  “Are you more of a giver or a taker, dearest Drake?”

  He glowers straight into me and says, while licking his lips, “I’m a giver!” I sigh.

  “Hhmmm. What should I do with you? Ladies, is there anyone interested in taking Drake up on his...um, giving needs?” Lots of high-pitched squeals and screams follow.

  “Oh.” I chuckle and shift my attention back to Drake. “I think you’ll have your pick tonight!”

  He leans over and whispers loudly. “But I want you!”

  Game...Time to play. “Head-onites, Drake here thinks that I should take him for myself. What do you think? Maybe I should put him to the test? See if he’s worthy?” More screams.

  I look up into his eyes and say in the most commanding voice I can muster, “On your knees!” I think I may have just got a thousand times dirtier than when I walked through the club doors thirty minutes ago.

  He looks confused for a second, and then his eyes widen in understanding. Welcome to my world, Drake. He looks down at the bar nervously, and then does another wobbly drop before landing on his knees in front of me. “Bring it, baby!”

  I walk over to where he is kneeling and press his beautiful wavy chestnut hair to my crotch. That’s right, the girl who has never really been touched there, just shoved a stranger’s head...there.

  I’m soaking up every move he makes as he sticks his tongue out and licks my leather-clad pussy without taking his eyes off of me. The entire club is shouting and screaming! I let him have a few more licks then laugh into the mic.

  “Alright lovers, it looks like I’m gonna have to take Drake, here, back home with me to finish what he’s started. You guys have a wonderful night and make sure you’ve got someone to tuck you tight into bed! Tip my girls well and tip them often. The BAR IS OPEN!” I scream and then the lights go down. I take off the headset and hand it to Savvy. Immediately, Malice and Zeke, my head of security, are there to usher me to the VIP. But this time, I take Drake with me.

  When we get upstairs, I find that the whole place has been bday’ed up for me. There are black and pink streamers everywhere with matching balloons. Patron is waiting on the center of the coffee table with lined up shot glasses next to it. The couches are filled with the trio, friends and others of the female persuasion. I walk over to Gunner and kiss him on the cheek.

  “Did you do this?”

  “Nah, baby girl, this was all Bullet.” I look over at the mastermind. After last night, I really don’t want to see him. He has a couple of girls around him and I make it a point to eye each one.

  Cade Stryker, from the band Stryker, comes over and kisses me hard on the lips. He smells like he’s already started on the tequila. “Damn, you look like a fucking wet dream tonight! Shooter, happy birthday, baby.” He goes in for another kiss but I pull away before he can reach me.

  I hear someone in the background say, “Get him the fuck off of her.” We went on tour with Stryker last year and are planning on doing it again this year. They’re the headliners and we are one of the opening acts. I feel Stryker being pulled off me and then Bullet is in front of me glaring, almost maliciously. “What the fuck are you wearing?” he yells.

  Set….

  “Whatever the fuck I want!” I smile, my fuck you smile. He wants to pass me up, then he doesn’t get a voice in what I wear, who I play with, or what I do. I grab Drake’s hand and bring him to the couch.

  “Hi Drake, I’m Shooter.” I wink and hold my hand out. I guess it’s a little late for introductions, but mother raised me with manners.

  “Hi.” He smiles brightly and I notice how perfectly aligned his teeth are. He has a little scarring in his neck region, but otherwise he’s quite attractive. His eyes are expressive in a riveting shade of green mixed with specks of blue.

  “What do you do, Drake?”

  “I officially got out of the Corps a few months ago. Right now I’m working with my dad at his dealership and I’m sort of working as a model.”

  “Sort of a model?”

  “I…um, I lost part of my leg in Afghanistan, and recently I’ve been working with a photographer friend of mine on various projects. It’s still new,” he adds shyly whilst looking down. This explains why he was nervous and a bit unstable on the bar. I just thought he was intoxicated. Now I feel like a big douche.

  “So, you’re a war hero?”

  “I’m just a guy trying to survive. Adjust to my new life.” He smiles and briefly looks at my cleav
age. Poor guy.

  I climb onto his lap straddling his legs. His hands immediately go around my backside. I can feel the heat off them through the open parts of my pants.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” I whisper as I slide further towards him on his lap.

  “No, I really like you and your music. Your club is awesome!” He clears his throat. He is so nervous.

  “Yeah,” I whisper and breathe into his ear. I dig my hands around his neck and pull him towards me. The brief revelation of intimacy I’ve had over the last couple of months has taught me well. I shamelessly grind myself onto him, over and over again, in a slow seductive rhythm. “Tell me more about yourself, Drake.”

  “Oh... I, uh, I.” He’s whispering in complete unintelligible gibberish. I continue my slow torture of this poor guy. I feel him getting hard underneath me. I lick and grind, then lick some more until I’m flying. No really, I’m in the air.

  “Put me down!” I scream. Bullet has pulled me off of Drake and thrown me over his shoulder.

  “You stay the fuck away from her!” he barks at Drake, pointing at him.

  Gunner drops his chick and marches over. “Let her go, Bullet! It’s her birthday. She can do whatever the fuck she wants!”

  I feel Bullet shake his head. “No way, man. Nobody is touching her! I don’t give a shit what any of you say!” He’s beyond pissed, I feel him vibrate underneath me. He slaps my ass hard. Then thinks better of it and does it again. He keeps muttering incoherently but I don’t think he’s drunk.

  Trigger comes over and says something in his other ear. Bullet shakes his head and starts walking out of the club with me on his shoulder. I look up to see Malice not far behind.

  As early as I’m being sent home, as mad as I should be right now I chuckle to myself and think…

  Match!

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  On Saturday, I was up and on the run early. First, hitting Tornadoes for a solid workout. The place seems empty without Tank. I can’t wait to see him in a few more days.

  Then I do some grocery shopping and other errands before getting ready for this afternoon’s fun.

  I decided to take Malice with me to the CC party. He fits in almost anywhere and I realized too late that I should have brought him with me to Florida, so I’m hesitant to leave him behind now.

  He looks his typical tailored self in a tan suit and I’m dressed in a white pants set. The elephant pants end at my toes, mainly because I’m ridiculously short while the top is the same material and color. It’s a half turtleneck and the shoulders are asymmetrical. One shoulder is completely bare while the other covers past my collarbone. Since we will be on the yacht, possibly over the open sea, I decided to French braid my hair to the side to keep it from flying away.

  The party is called for four o’clock at the Boston Yacht Club out of Marblehead. We follow the crowd to the Collins’ yacht and climb aboard. There are a lot more people here than the team that assisted in the merger. The yacht is so packed that Malice and I climb to the top deck for a breather. I don’t recognize anyone and just want to get out of the way.

  By the time we make it to the top, the yacht is already moving. Shit, we missed our out. Now we will be trapped on this thing for God knows how long.

  “Combien de temps allons-nous coincés ici?”

  How long are we trapped here? Malice asks while sipping his bottled beer. He must have read my mind.

  “Je ne sais pas. Je ne pensais pas qu'il y aurait autant de gens ici.”

  I don’t know. I didn’t think there would be this many people here.

  “Il est pas trop tard pour sauter le navire et nager.”

  It’s not too late to jump ship and swim.

  “Tu es drôle. Peut-être que nous pouvons trouver un peu de chocolat pour vous garder heureux. Je pensais que je l'ai vu un peu de nourriture sur l'un des ponts inférieurs nous sommes passés.”

  You’re funny. Maybe we can find some chocolate to keep you happy. I thought I saw some food on one of the lower decks we passed.

  We take a leisurely stroll around the floor, enjoying the chilled air. I rub my arms as we walk around trying to erase the goose bumps. Despite it being mid-May, the air feels cooler over the water.

  As we make our way to the stairs I glance over and who do I see? Mr. Coen Collins surrounded by a bevy of blondes. Even from twenty feet away, I can hear their high-pitched squeals of delight as he regales them with…whatever it is he does.

  Coen must have felt me because his eyes shift to mine. He sends me his dazzling I’m-Cocky-Coen smile and the air around me charges. Normally I would melt, but I’m tired of his disappearing acts.

  He looks confused when I don’t smile in response. Still surrounded, I glance at each of the women hoping to see…his perfect match? A more suitable playmate than myself?

  I shake my head and look away. I shouldn’t have come today. Malice places his hand on my back to usher me to the next level. His presence snaps me back to reality. I don’t belong with the Coen’s of the world. According to Bullet, I don’t belong with him either. So, as usual, that puts me in the I-don’t-fit-in zone. It’s where I’ve lived for the past twenty-two years, it certainly isn’t something new. I should be used to it by now. But I’m not.

  I feel a hand on my arm half expecting it to be Coen, I’m surprised when I turn and find a smiling Andrew. The last communication we had wasn’t exactly pleasant. I immediately grab onto Malice for support, which is foreign to me.

  “Darling…” He leans forward and kisses my cheek, lingering longer than I’d like. He places his hand on my bare arm and rubs up and down. “You look beautiful. I didn’t expect to see you.” He seems to be in a pleasant mood, but still I lock my grip on Malice.

  “Andrew, how are things? I believe I mentioned that I assisted with the legal aspects of the Collins Corp merger.” I can’t say that I’m surprised he doesn’t remember. After all, it had nothing to do with politics or him.

  Suddenly, I’m met with even more warmth as Coen comes around Andrew and pulls me to him by my waist. I glance at Malice, still in my firm lock, confused. Are they going to urinate on me and mark their territory? I should move. I just got these Gucci Espadrille sandals and don’t want them ruined.

  “Carpenter, wonderful to see you, again. How are things?” He smirks at Andrew and then kisses my shoulder. His hot breath lingers as his kiss turns into a small nibble. What is he doing?

  “Hi, love,” he whispers into my shoulder. Despite my obvious confusion, the chilled goose bumps are back, only this time for a different reason. Dang it. I don’t want to react to this man.

  Andrew watches Coen, and I notice the disdain grow on his face. “Collins, I thought you were interested in Morninglane?” He looks pointedly at me and raises his brow. Oh, right, Non-Boobs Betty, I wonder if she is here. “I didn’t realize you were into my sloppy seconds.”

  OH NO HE DIDN’T!

  I can feel my face blaze as I’m about to spring into action. He may have never attended one of my Cage fights, but he’s about to get a front row seat now. I let go of Malice and am ready to pull back my arm, when Coen strikes into action.

  He releases me and gets directly into Andrew’s face. Andrew is shorter, so Coen has to tilt his head down. “What the fuck did you just say about my fiancée?” he grinds through clenched teeth. From my angle of his back, I can see the veins protruding in his neck and the tick of his jaw. His hands are tightly fisted at his sides. Through his rolled up sleeves, I can even see the veins in his forearms rising in anticipation.

  I drop my arm and watch thoroughly dumbfounded. I’m pretty sure my eyes are wide and my mouth is hanging wide open.

  “What? What did you just call her?” Andrew asks in shock.

  “I said, you slimy piece of shit. If you ever denigrate the love of my life again, I’ll cut you up into pieces and pass you out to your constituents.”

  That’s the sexiest thing I have ever heard anyone say about me!


  “And if you ever touch her again, I’ll hold you down and let her to moo goo gai pan your ass!”

  No wait, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.

  Coen releases Andrew from the stare down apocalypse, grabs my hand tightly interlocking our fingers, and leads me away. We get to the other end of the room and he pulls me to him. Hand around my neck, he leans down and breathes me in. “You ok?” he whispers to me. I nod in response. I look over his shoulder and see several pairs of eyes on me, including a pissed off looking Greyson. I hope he didn’t see that little exchange, but I have a feeling he did with the way he glares at me.

  I think about pulling away and notice Coen is still faintly shaking. I will wait this out while my head filters through everything. I can’t believe he said that to Andrew. The gossip train will be steaming up any minute now and half way to Cali. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. What was he thinking? I could have handled Andrew.

  The rest of the afternoon is spent with me at Coen’s side. Every time I attempt to move away, an arm snakes out around my waist, or around my shoulder. He won’t let me take a breath without touching me or having me nearby. Even when Greyson comes over to pull him away, Coen refuses to let go of my hand.

  I would say that I was a prop, but every so often he throws a question my way, or tries to bring me into the conversation.

  “What do you think, love?”

  “Charlie would love going there, wouldn’t you, love?”

  “We’ve got to see that one, love.”

  “I’ve never been. We should go, love.”

  “Charlie said the exact same thing…”

  From my zoned out vantage point, I watch the women staring in disparage, glowering at me. I wonder what they think. Are they jealous like those two old bitties in the bathroom whining about Andrew or are they plotting my demise? Maybe they feel sorry for me. I look over at Coen. How could they not be jealous? He’s stunning. If they knew he was just pretending, I bet they would feel sorry for me.

  “Charlie, good to see you finally got out of the office,” Brantley says coming over to join our little circle.