Not to mention the fact that Riley has all of this love in her life and I only have Caleb. As I think about my little guy in his monkey costume, though, I know that having him is enough.
And I'm grateful to have Riley as such a long-standing friend. I tell myself to stop the pity party and get excited for this Halloween party.
"Caleb, say hello to Miss Whitney," I say.
I look down at my feet— where usually Caleb, being a rather shy, clingy boy, is perpetually hiding— but he's not there.
"Oh," I turn around and notice that he's chasing after Larson, who has gone into the kitchen to make himself a drink.
I guess Larson really has a talent for bringing Caleb out of his shell somehow.
"I'll have a drink too," Jensen calls out to Larson. "Whiskey on the rocks."
"I know what you drink, dude," Larson says, smiling. "We only spend half our waking hours down at Billy's."
Oh my God.
I try hard not to roll my eyes. Back in law school, Billy's was the local dive bar, known for its bikers, beers, and brawls.
Some things never change.
I tell myself that this Larson guy is definitely not my type. But then I look at his ass as he pours the drink, and I have to try to convince myself of that fact a little harder.
"Oh crap," I say. "I need to finish putting on my makeup."
I can't believe I'm still standing here with only one spider eye. From the way that Larson looked me up and down approvingly when we just met, I don't think he noticed or cared. But I've always been shy and I suddenly feel incredibly self-conscious about every little thing.
And who wouldn't, around Larson? The guy's pouring a drink in Riley's kitchen while causing my panties to get noticeably wet. Which is the last thing I need when wearing this damn short skirt.
But I can't seem to stop staring. This guy is so ripped he could lift me with one finger.
I can't help but feel as if I'm on the verge of doing something really stupid. Like begging and pleading this stranger with the pecs so obvious they're protruding from the white tee shirt under his leather vest to take me to this party now and fuck my brains out later.
"Oh crap!" Caleb repeats the word I just used in reference to needing to finish applying my makeup.
"Honey, don't say that word," I tell him, cringing in Riley's direction. "That's just a word Mommy says when she's feeling frustrated."
And flushed, I think. And hot and bothered.
"Mama. Crap," Caleb says.
I look at him sternly and do my best not to sigh in exasperation.
"Hey little man, I'll teach you a new and cool word," Larson says, peering down at Caleb. "But only if you promise to use it instead of that other word. Deal?"
He holds out his hand, and Caleb shakes it very solemnly, suddenly looking twenty-three instead of not even three years old.
How does this guy do this? I wonder. Turn my kid into a decent little human being instead of a terrorizing toddler monster?
Larson looks at me and winks. And I want to melt down into the floor. Or lie down on it and order him to get on top of me.
"Okay," Larson tells Caleb. "The word is capola!"
Caleb cracks up.
"Ca-po-la!" he repeats.
"Exactly," says Larson. "Capola, capola, capola. You got it? That's a word you only say when you're frustrated. And you say it instead of the no- no word your mommy told you not to use."
"Only ca-po-la," Caleb agrees, holding his hand out again for Larson to shake, which he does.
Holy capola.
I'm in big trouble. I have to remember not to do anything stupid. Like hook up with this rough and tumbler biker who just taught my son manners after undressing me with his eyes.
"Jensen," Riley says, interrupting my thoughts. "I think we should all make sure to stick together tonight and look out for each other. Brynn and I saw this really weird and scary breaking news report earlier, about these clowns. I know it sounds ridiculous, but...."
"Yeah, we heard about them too," says Jensen. "Down at Billy's. Some guys in Desert Dogs were talking about organizing a search to figure out who is doing this crap and how to stop it."
"Capola!" Caleb shouts.
"Good boy," I tell him, as Jensen says "sorry" for using the word "crap."
"No problem," I say back to Jensen. "Clearly I slip up too, and I'm his mom and should definitely know better. But anyway…"
"Desert Dogs is Jensen and Larson's motorcycle club and it has a mission statement about protecting the community," Riley explains to me, for which I'm grateful because I didn't know what the guys' bar talk had to do with a clown search. "It's good to have them on our side."
"Absolutely," I agree, taking another look at Caleb in his monkey costume as he's clearly idolizing Larson.
Even though biker guys have never been my type, I'm glad to know that they'll protect us tonight. And as Larson winks at me, I have a feeling that's not the only thing he'll be doing for me tonight.
Chapter 5 – Larson
Well, fuck.
I can't believe I'm on my bike headed to a fucking costume store.
All because of a fucking woman I just met.
But the first thing I thought when I saw Brynn Elliot was: I guess I'll be getting a costume and going to this stupid Halloween party.
And I don't do costumes. I don't do Halloween parties.
But I want to do Brynn.
I can't get over how fucking hot she is.
Jensen had told me but I didn't believe him. I thought he was just trying to set me up with Riley's poor lonely friend who was in town for the evening and who didn't want to be an extra wheel.
But had I known he was telling the truth about her looks, I would have gone to Party Spirit right away and picked out the most ridiculous costume imaginable. Even though I think the whole costume party thing is so fucking juvenile and cheesy.
And it wasn't only the Halloween party thing that had me resistant to going out tonight. It was the thought of going out in general.
I don't really get out much anymore. I definitely don't date.
Not since that night two years ago when I lost everything.
I fuck a lot, sure. I fuck pretty much anything that walks. She doesn't have to be a looker. In fact, it's better if she isn't. Because then she doesn't remind me of her.
But it's okay if she is a looker, of course. I just keep the lights off anyway. I fuck her— whoever she is— hard and good, sometimes two or three of them at once.
They line up for me because they've heard about what a stud I am. How good I am in bed. What a big cock I have. How I'm so rough and strong I'll throw them over my shoulder, carry them upstairs, and fuck them hard and fast against the wall.
It's all true. I don't think I've ever disappointed any of them. And there have been a lot of them. So many that I've lost count. And it doesn't even matter.
Because what these women don't know is that being with them feels as good for me as it does for them. But not in the same way. Not in the way that they think.
It takes my mind off things. Off of her. Off of them. Off of what I had and what I lost.
Sure, it's just a temporarily relief, and then it's back to reality, until the next one comes along. But it's better than nothing. Better than the darkness and despair of being alone, absolutely alone with nothing and no one to fill the void.
But when I saw Brynn just now, I felt something different for the first time in a really fucking long time. Something that reminded me of life, of fullness, of hope.
I push that thought away now. Because I don't want it to be true.
I can't have her. She's only in town for one night. Jensen had made that clear, thinking I'd be happy about it.
And usually he'd be right. I don't like to have to see them again. It's easier to just get my fill and move on.
I'm also not her type, and I know that. Jensen said she's some big firm, big city lawyer.
Plus, there's that little boy
. That just hits a little too close to fucking home.
So it's best that I think of her as a conquest. I know she'll be more of a challenge than the rest. But they can never resist me.
And I saw the way she looked at me. Like she didn't want to be looking at me that way. But like she couldn't help herself, either.
I know exactly what she wants me to do. She wants me to rip off that little cheerleading skirt she's wearing. She wants me to slap that nice ass she's teasing me with.
She wants me to pull her hair back and punish her for being such a slut on Halloween. I just know it.
So I'd better get to this costume store before it's too late. I need to fuck the living daylights out of Brynn Elliot, and apparently buying a Halloween costume is a necessary first step towards achieving that goal.
Chapter 6 – Larson
Jensen and I arrive at the Tucker Mansion just in time to join the back of a really fucking long line.
"Great," I mumble under my breath, hoping that Brynn gets here soon.
I'll be more than happy to let her cut in line in front of me so that I can peek at her cute ass sticking out of her skirt. But I'm not even sure if that view will be enough to ease my impatience.
I fucking hate waiting in line even more than I fucking hate dressing up in ridiculous costumes. And as I look around at the other people waiting in line, I realize they're the type of pretentious fucks I hate hanging out with even more than I hate waiting in line and wearing a costume.
They're all blonde, plastic and look like they bought their glitzy Halloween costumes on Rodeo fucking Drive. And this elaborate mansion is doing its job of creeping me out. Mostly because of its over display of gaudiness. And also because being here means being stuck inside it with a bunch of crazy people.
"Calm down," Jensen tells me, knowing how I get and sensing my impatience. "Brynn will be here with Riley before we know it."
"She'd better be," I tell him. "Because I need to stare at that fine ass to make this wait in line a little more bearable."
"I didn't mean it for that reason," Jensen hurries to add, always the loyal family man. "I meant that once Brynn gets here…"
"Sorry we're late," says Riley, coming up to Jensen and smacking him on the ass.
He bends down to kiss her. Those two make me sick with their public displays of attention. Don't get me wrong— I'm happy for them and I never thought my buddy Jensen would be in such a good relationship.
I met him when we were in pararescue school together, training for the Special Ops. He was always kind of a mopey guy because his father had died. I always thought he'd do all right for himself because at least he was close to his two brothers, Harlow and Ramsey. Those Bradford brothers always had at each other, at least.
But Jensen had a hard time when his copter was shot down over enemy territory and his brother Harlow nearly died in the crash. But Harlow made it through despite a long recover process.
Jensen really took a turn for the worse when he was arrested and forced out of the military, all for trying to help his mom through some tough times. Sadly she'd always been a piece of shit mom but all three of those Bradford boys had consistently done their best to help her. They knew how much their dad had loved her, for some crazy reason, because she'd been just as bad of a wife to him as she was a mother to them.
I'd tried to help by inviting Jensen to check out the Desert Dogs. I’d joined when Jensen was still deployed and I knew he wasn’t that into motorcycle clubs and that he didn’t see himself as a motorcycle club kind of guy. But I figured that the Desert Dogs could give him a sense of community and support. I know that being in the club has sure helped me through my hard times.
Hanging out with the Desert Dogs and riding the desert mountain roads did help Jensen clear his head to some extent. But at first he was in too much of a depressive funk to even be motivated to start to come out of it. It wasn't until he met Riley that he started to improve.
So I'm glad he found someone to help him through it. But that doesn't mean I want his cheesy happiness rubbed in my fucking face all the time.
"Nice costume," Brynn says, looking me up and down.
I'm dressed like a football player. Fucking shoulder pads and all. I'd been in that damn costume store, staring at all the options and I just figured, fuck it. Brynn's a cheerleader, I'll be a football player. I might as well make my intentions obvious. Just in case she has any doubt.
"Yeah, I decided to go with the theme you started," I tell her. "So we can match these two lunatics."
I hook my thumb towards the soap and loofa set that is Jensen and Riley tonight. Brynn laughs. As sad as I've been, I surprise myself by being happy that I've made that happen. Even if it took getting dressed up in this ridiculous costume.
"Well, Quarterback Larson and sidekick Soap Bar Jensen, why are you waiting in line?"
I just look at her, confused. Jensen seems to be as clueless as I am.
"Where else are we supposed to wait?" I finally ask her.
"Nowhere," she says. "You're supposed to come with me."
"Well, well, well," I mock, but I'm seriously impressed. And glad to be escaping Line Hell.
"Honey, did you forget?" Riley asks Jensen. "I told you we had VIP entrance. You must not have been listening."
She tsks her tongue at him.
"I was listening," Jensen says, mockingly defensive. "I was just telling Larson that once you and Brynn showed up, good things would happen in terms of the party. I just didn't know what exactly would happen. Because I didn't know what VIP meant. I thought maybe we would get free drinks or something. Or I was hoping, anyway."
"We do," Brynn says.
"What? Woah."
Jensen shakes his head in amazement. I was already doing the same.
Free drinks. Now that's what I'm fucking talking about. Guess it's a good thing I decided to give up my resistance to lame Halloween parties.
"Brynn's got the hook up," Riley says. "How did you think we got invited to this exclusive party anyway? Tucker only invites a select few and their friends. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Brynn."
I shoot a quick glance at her. What did she do? Sleep with the guy?
Not that I'd be able to judge. I've probably slept with every fucking woman in this city. And Tucker's a billionaire. The richest guy I know, he spares no expense at his lavish events and likes to show off every penny. If I were a chick, I'd sleep with him too.
"Tucker is a client of my firm's," Brynn says quickly, as if following my train of thought and wanting to disclaim it. "Halloween parties really aren't my thing, but schmoozing with the bigwig clients is part of my job as an associate."
"Don't I know it," Riley says, looking disgusted. "It's one of the things I definitely don't miss about working at my old law firm, Holt. But then again, I never would have met Jensen if I weren't required to represent people through nonprofit organizations, so I guess I shouldn't complain. I'm just glad he helped me see the light and get out of there."
"Well, I don't really have that option," Brynn quickly says, as we continue to make our way through the huge throng of people and to the front of the line.
"Oh, I know," Riley says. "I didn't mean to act like you did."
"There are things about working at my law firm that I don't particularly love," Brynn says. "I'm not a big people person. Not a schmoozer. I don't have those natural talents. I hate the long, stressful hours, the political shit between the partners, and having to be at the mercy of their whims, to name just a few more down sides to the job. But I do have a kid. And a huge student loan bill. So those two things outweigh all the other stuff."
"I understand." Riley nods her head. "And I completely sympathize."
"So when my firm says I have to go to the Halloween party hosted by the billionaire client who lives in my city throws, I go, no questions asked. And I bring my best friend, of course. I obviously take advantage of that one job perk."
"Thanks, Brynn," Riley says, hugg
ing Brynn hard. But not in the same way that I want to fuck Brynn hard later, of course. "I'm so glad you brought us here."
"And I'm glad you can get us through the door quickly," I joke.
Brynn turns around and smiles at me, and I know she'll let me cram my big cock into her later, just like she's letting me into this party now. This is turning out to be one hell of a happy Halloween.
Chapter 7 – Brynn
As we approach the entrance to the Tucker Mansion, the men who looked from afar like bodyguards and servants dressed in nice tuxedos turn out to be vampires. One of them is standing so still against a column that he nearly scares me to death when he comes alive and says "I want to suck your blood!" as I'm handing our tickets to the girl at the door.
I jump, and Larson puts a strong arm around my shoulder.
Whew.
"Well, they've really got this whole haunted house thing down," I joke. "Very realistic."
But I lean up against him, grateful he's here because I was honestly scared. And it feels nice to have his hand on me too. I want him to stay close to me all night for multiple reasons.
As we start to enter the mansion, two people dressed as clowns run out and knock over the vampire who just scared me.
"Out of the way, Dracula!" one shouts, his face a twisted, creepy mess of distorted clown makeup. But the makeup isn't typical clown makeup and is instead more gothic: black and white and morbid looking, and offset by wigs containing bright and varied colors. "There are new villains in town who are scarier than you."
The other clown laughs a sadistic, manic chuckle.
"And we aim to do our job well."
They both get up close in our face and laugh some more before running inside and hiding behind a curtain just out of view, waiting to scare the next group of people who enter the Tucker Mansion.
"Holy shit," I say, leaning into Larson all over again.
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