We didn’t even make it to the table when shit went down. Four mean-looking men with grimaces on their faces took one look at us and got up in our space. Every one of them was dodgy, angry and so fucking shady I thought it might have been a prank. Credit where it’s due, I may have slapped one of them in the face to see if they were serious.
He was one mad-looking motherfucker.
And no, he wasn’t part of the night’s plan.
All I remember after that was crash landing into two tables where patrons were having drinks and taking in the show.
I believe it was Evan and Slade who helped me to my feet, but the damage was done. The women with us scattered off, more grumpy men joined the drunken brawl, and that was that. It was not pretty. Drunk men fighting never is, not where half the alcohol-driven fisticuffs ended up missing and sending men spiraling clumsily into shit. Add the puking and beatdowns, and we were in a sorry state for stop three, which I have no recollection about.
There may have been a waterfront. Maybe a patio. Someone was dancing on me for sure, but hell if I remember anymore with the whoopass I got at the Blue Bayou. I woke up with a nasty hangover at the frat house about noon the next day, smelling like puke, booze and ass. Maybe drunken amnesia was a good thing. When I could finally open my eyes halfway and walk in more or less a straight line, I took a cab home.
I plugged in my phone and unlocked it to set the alarm when I noticed a text came in from Jo that said, ‘I’m kinda jealous.’
Wow.
Awww hell no.
I checked my text log between us. It appeared that at every stop on the pub crawl after the Blue Bayou, I’d snapped a selfie outside the bar or pub we’d visited—and I’d sent them all to Jo. Pat was in every shot, standing there in the background with mafia hat, his bevy of girls and his cigar, cool as punch with his suit still perfectly white and untouched. How the fuck did he pull that off? How in hell were these pictures so clear when I probably could barely stand up? There was even a shot of me with three of the ladies behind me who had all raised their shirts and exposed their breasts just in time.
Naked boob chicks in my selfies.
I’d texted them all to Jo.
And her only reply was, ‘I’m kinda jealous.’
I replied with, ‘no need to be,’ and decided I’d phone her later on to hear what she really thought, but not now when my head was still pounding and I was unlikely able to string together full sentences. So I went back to bed.
11
Josephine
It was Monday morning and I was on a mission. Find a job within a two-mile radius of Rose’s place by the end of the day, or die trying. That may have been a tall order, and sure, I was overly dramatic. The thing was, I’d already forked over my share of the rent to Rose last night. Seeing my tiny nest egg diminish by almost ten percent within the first day of getting to New Orleans got me to the point of desperation. At any moment I expected to break out in hives from worry.
What threw me over the edge was the call from my cousin after that. The tow truck driver had dropped off my car, and my cousin had asked a mechanic friend to see if it was repairable. According to the mechanic, my car could get back on the road for only five thousand dollars.
Five thousand dollars?
That was what I screamed into the phone, after which I told him to scrap the piece of shit Frankencar, and keep the money. It may have had sentimental value, but I was not so hard up for my own set of wheels to fork out pretty much the rest of my life savings.
Taking the bus started to look damn good.
So I was officially carless and jobless. Finding a job today would take care of at least one of those things. Yesterday, I had gone for a nice long walk around the area, and had seen several places with ‘Now Hiring’ signs in their windows. Those were what my aunt would call low-hanging fruit. They were old school, usually mom and pop places where the owner worked the business on-site, unlikely to post job openings online, even more unlikely to ask for a resume, and if the sign was still up today or a few days later, they would probably give anyone who walked in looking half-decent and more or less sane a shot.
I looked half-decent.
I was more or less sane.
I had a shot.
I put on a nicely ironed white, collared button-down shirt, my best-looking pair of black pants, and the only pair of black low-heeled pumps I owned. I pulled my hair neatly back into a bun, put on a small amount of makeup, and headed off to get my first job. Low-hanging local fruit, ripe for the picking.
Four hours later I was hot and sweaty, my feet were sore, and I was still jobless. I was turned away by three places because the owner was not actually working today. At the fourth place, the bistro owner looked me up and down, and sized me up as not having enough experience. Just like that. The fifth place I got to was a nice-looking restaurant, but it was closed until after four in the afternoon because they only opened for two dinner sittings. I could check that out later on, but it wasn’t a solution. I needed something now.
On my way back home I took a different route to cover more ground. I passed by a corner store and was so tired and thirsty from the heat, I went in for bottled water. As I got my money out to pay the cashier, I saw the sign behind her.
Now Hiring.
Woot!
This was three blocks away from Rose’s place. Sure, they probably paid minimum wage, and corner store patrons never tipped, but I needed to at least try. After I had paid her, I asked about the opening.
“Yes, they’re still hiring. It’s for evening shifts from Wednesday to Sunday. You’d work alone too, for minimum wage. Do you want the owner’s number? He’s got a bunch of these shops around town, but if you phone, you could probably meet him today.”
“That would be great. Thanks!”
She passed me a business card. “You got a resume?”
My heart sank. “Well, I have one on my email account, but it’s kind of outdated. I guess I can find a print shop.”
“Nah. Don’t worry. Just call him. He’s short-staffed, and between you and me, he’ll probably hire you on the spot once he meets you.”
“Yeah?” I was pretty excited, too excited to care about why a store owner would entrust a store with thousands of dollars of food and beverages to a complete newbie.
“Good luck.”
I strutted out of there on cloud nine, hurrying back to the apartment so I could phone him up. The owner answered on the first ring and asked me if I could meet him at nine tonight. That was an odd request, but then I figured he wanted me to get a realistic idea of what it was like working evening shifts.
“Definitely, sir. Nine p.m. works well.”
“And can you start tonight if I end up hiring you? Your shift would normally be from four in the afternoon to midnight.”
“Yes, I can.” This was a real lead!
“Great. See you there. Be sure to bring your driver’s license and social security number.”
I was so excited when I hung up, I almost sent a text to Chris. He did tell me that I could contact him anytime, but the idea of doing it felt corny and slightly infantile, even after he’d sent me all those texts with pictures of him getting shit-faced with his college friends. The shot with the topless chicks got me a little jealous. I was jealous of the blonde girl on the end with the black one-shoulder top and a denim jacket tied around her waist.
She looked carefree.
She had nice breasts too.
That used to be me when I lived with my aunt.
The part about looking carefree.
I had a family member who treated me like her own daughter, a roof over my head, a waitressing job that paid good tips, and my savings were intact. I could be fun-loving and footloose back then. Now I had to grow up fast and make sure I didn’t end up broke and homeless.
Instead of texting Chris, I settled for unpacking my fold-out easel. I painted for a few hours, then I had a nap before getting dressed up again for my first job interview.
I got the job.
I wasn’t jobless anymore. I was also already working the rest of the shift as part of my two-shift orientation and training. The owner was all business. He hardly looked at me twice. All he cared about was having someone to restock supplies and punch in sales at his cash registers so he could turn a profit each and every night his stores were open.
There was a downside.
I probably wouldn’t see my twenty-first birthday as I’d hoped.
The minimart curb and this entire neighborhood seemed to transform into a seriously dangerous-looking wasteland at night. Men were staggering around with booze bottles in brown bags, women were selling their bodies on every other street corner, crazy people were arguing and getting into fist fights down the street, and I was almost sure I saw an illicit drug deal go down twenty feet away from me. That was all on my way into the job interview. I couldn’t imagine how much worse it would get when my shift ended at midnight. In hindsight, I should not have left my handgun behind in El Paso. I could have used it for protection on my way to and from my new job. Maybe a Kevlar vest would have helped too.
I sent a text to Chris just as I was leaving work. He had phoned while I was getting hired and trained at the minimart. As it was my first day on the job, I let his call go to voicemail. He didn’t leave a message, hence my text to find out why he called. He phoned me back just as I was two blocks away from the apartment building. I stepped back outside to take the call.
“Hey Chris.”
“Hi. Everything cool?”
“Yeah. I got a job.”
“Nice! Congrats. What’ll you be doing?”
“Working evening shifts at a minimart. The job’s not ideal, but it’s a start, and I’ll only have to walk three blocks to get there. I’m actually walking home now.”
“It sucks that you have to walk alone this late at night, but good for you…”
“So you phoned earlier? I was getting trained up.”
Chris groaned. “Yeah, I uh, those pics I sent you. Hope you’re not too offended. I was drunk outta my skull…I can’t even remember sending those messages.”
“Naw. Those were pretty tame.”
“Tame, huh? Remind me to tag along when you get out for a night on the town.”
“I just might, now that I’m gainfully employed again.”
“Can’t wait… So what was that jealous remark about?”
“Oh that. Nothing really. I was kidding around, being a bit sentimental.”
“You don’t strike me as the jealous type.”
“Why would I be? Are you?”
“Who knows.”
“Good answer. Well, I’ve got to run. I need to get some rest so I can find me a St. Jude’s necklace in the morning… maybe a handgun too.”
“Wait a second, Jo. A gun? What the hell for?”
“Okay, you know the stuff they say about the Lower Valley area of El Paso?”
“Yeah. Just don’t ask me to repeat it. My mom’s parents grew up there, and they stayed to raise my mom and her brothers. They never moved away. It sucks that the place has such a bad reputation lately. Is that where you’re from?”
“Close, but not quite. Anyway, have you ever been in that area at night?”
“God, yeah. It’s sketchy as hell. I’d be scared to pass through there alone.”
“Well, Lower Valley is a five-star luxury resort complex compared to what it’s like at night where I live.”
He cleared his throat, probably unsure what to say. “Oh. Shitty.”
“Yeah…hmmm, maybe pepper spray might be a better bet.”
“Hey, when do you usually get off?”
I gave him a sexy laugh. “Anytime I want…with my hands.”
“Don’t get me started, sweet thing,” he drawled. “Just be glad you’re over an hour’s drive away.”
“And what if I weren’t?”
“I’d show up unannounced again, whisk you away somewhere private, and have you screaming my name again, honey.”
I was all lighthearted and flirty with the laughs, but what he didn’t know was that just the sound of his voice and that suggestion had my core aching and my panties soaked. He would have been the perfect distraction if he lived a bit closer to me.
“Well, cornerback, it’s pretty late. I’ll let you know how I make out with the new job.”
“Try to stay safe.”
“Will do. Night, Chris.”
“Night, Jo.”
I hung up and tucked my phone back in my pocket when I turned onto my street. I was half a block away when I figured out what Chris meant when he said he’d show up unannounced again. He was parked outside the apartment building, leaning against his car with the sexiest grin on his face.
12
Chris
I was parked outside Jo’s sister’s place.
There was no rhyme or reason as to why. I couldn’t say when or how I made the decision to come see her. I’d allowed myself a good long sleep to get over my hangover. When I woke up and didn’t see her reply to my text, I gave her a call, which went through to voicemail. Fall camp wasn’t starting until eleven tomorrow, so I took a shower, got dressed and jumped in my car.
Then I ended up here.
She didn’t have to tell me how sketchy the neighborhood was over the phone. I saw it as I was driving through here. This was not safe for a woman to walk at night. Or a man. It wasn’t my place to tell her something like that, so I kept it to myself. Now she was standing in front of me with her arms folded and her head cocked to one side, confused but not angry. Even in this white fitted button-down shirt and knee-length black skirt she’d picked out for her job interview, it all hugged her body in all the right places. My eyes gazed down her shapely legs, already picturing them wrapped around my hips.
“Well, well, well. If it ain’t cornerback Chris.”
I tugged on the cuff of her work shirt. “Relax those arms, sweet thing.”
“You’re stalking me, aren’t you?”
“Admit it,” I said, getting closer to her. “You’re happy as hell to see me.”
She peered up at me with those sexy eyes, and that expression where she bit down on her bottom lip. “Depends.”
“On what?”
Her hand reached up to her hair, and for a second I wondered if she was planning on loosening her bun so I could bury my hands in all those fiery red tresses. “On why you came all this way.”
“Maybe I knew you needed protection.”
“Nice try, White Knight.”
I walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her. “Get in…before I swallow you whole right here at your front steps.”
Jo let out a moan, then she pretended to clear her throat. She tucked her bag under her arm and walked over. Before she got in, she stopped directly in front of me and craned her neck to look me in the eye. “Thank you, Chris.”
“For coming down to see you, or for what I’m about to do to you?”
She grinned, looking at me with lust in her eyes, and hopped in the car. When I got in and drove off, she asked where I was taking her.
“For a drive…maybe to somewhere private. Tell me about this new job of yours.”
While she was sharing her update, I took the nearest main street straight north until I got to Lakeshore Drive. I paid attention to every word she said, yet I was itching to take her to the nearest hotel and get between her legs again.
“Stop here,” she said after a few minutes.
“What?”
“Pull over.”
I put my indicator lights and checked my rear view mirror before stopping, not that I needed to. The roads were dead quiet on this stretch of road just east of the college campus.
“Why’d you want me to stop here?”
She undid the first few buttons of her shirt. “Because…I’ve had one thought on my mind for almost the entire time since you sent me that text after you got back to Baton Rouge yesterday.”
; I cocked an eyebrow as I looked over at her, admiring her delicate skin above the line of her bra. “What?”
She kicked off her shoes, hiked up her skirt to about mid-thigh, then she took my hand and placed it between her legs. “How did we drive for all those hours in your car and not have even the shortest makeout session inside?”
“It’s time to change that,” I told her, sliding my hands up under her skirt and rubbing against her warm pussy through her panties.
She parted her legs for me, moaning as I played with her clit. After a bit, she lifted up her hips from the seat and dragged the panties down her legs. Her hand reached over and cupped my erection through my jeans. I couldn’t wait anymore. Positioning my seat as far back as it would go, I pulled my fingers away from her heat and used both hands to grip her waist and pull her over the center console and into my lap. She adjusted her body in the tight front seat, and I helped her bring one leg across my body so she could straddle me. She was not going to be very comfortable, but that was the last thing on either of our minds right now.
Jo held onto my shoulder with one hand reached up to her bun and finally let her hair down. She was one gorgeous woman. I moved a hand up her back and gripped the base of her neck, pulling her head down to press my lips against hers, aware but not giving a damn that cars were passing by every so often. Hungry for more as I took her mouth, my hands roamed down under her skirt, squeezing her plump ass and pressing her hot center against my hard dick.
She ran her hands through my hair, relaxing her body into mine, allowing me to feel her pebbled nipples rubbing gently on my chest and her hips rocking on my groin. Jo moaned, pulling from the kiss, breathless and panting for air before she whispered that she was ready and we needed a condom right now.
She held on to my shoulders with one hand and lifted herself up high enough to reach the other hand down between us, gripping at my belt and jeans to free my cock. I got a condom from god knows where by the time my dick sprang free, rolling it on lightning fast and guiding it to her sopping wet opening, ready to feel her tight pussy gripping around it. With her arms back around my neck and her forehead pressed onto mine, she eased herself down, taking me deep inside her inch by mind-blowing inch. I tipped my chin forward and kissed her mouth again, pleased at the way that made her hum against my lips and rock her hips until I was buried all the way in, anchored in her tightness.
Hook Up (A Bad Boy Sports Romance) Page 7