Scarlet Toys (Violent Circle Book 1)

by S. M. Shade

  “What did he do?” Jani asks.

  “Spit on a woman, then told her she’d better get out of those wet clothes.” Emily sighs and flops down into a chair.

  “What the hell?” Jani exclaims.

  “Pickup line of the year,” I laugh.

  Emily grins. “Like we don’t get enough crazy at home. You going to the block party?”

  Why does everyone keep asking me that? It’s taking place right outside my front door. “Yeah.”

  Jani bends over and starts separating her colors. “She’s bringing our new boss.”

  “Ooh, the guy from Scarlet Toys? He’s fine as hell.”

  Hopping up to sit on the table, I turn to Jani. “Noble said to make sure I bring you. They’ll have watermelon soaked in alcohol.”

  “Good. I want to celebrate. I dumped Trevor last night.”

  Trevor is Jani’s friend with benefits. At least, that’s how she described him. I knew it wouldn’t last long, even though they were exclusive. Jani always finds something wrong with them, some reason to break up. She’s totally dedicated to avoiding a real relationship.

  “You did? What happened?”

  Jani plunks in her quarters and turns on the machine. “He refuses to keep a job. I’m not dating a loser who never plans to leave his mother’s house.”

  “Good call,” Emily says. “Noble has been watching you forever. Are you ever going to put that boy out of his misery and throw him a little?”

  “No way. I need at least a little maturity and Frat Hell is definitely lacking in it. Have you ever heard them discuss their house rules?”

  “What are they?” Emily asks.

  “I guess there’s a list a mile long, but the last one I heard was that any time one of them eats a banana, they have to be on their knees and maintain eye contact with one of the other guys.”

  Emily and I crack up, and she gets to her feet. “Great, Skid Mark Steve is here, my favorite customer,” she grumbles. “Gotta go. See you at the party.”

  “Ew, why can’t the guy do his own wash?” I remark, as my washer buzzes.

  “Poor Emily,” Jani agrees. “I’d rather sell butt plugs any day.”

  We finish our laundry and part ways. I spend the rest of the evening hanging out at home, just lounging on the couch. It’s been a long week and I’m sure the next one will be too.

  Finally, I drag myself to bed, and I’m out almost instantly. A few hours later, I hear a tapping on my window. I know everything is locked up, including the screen, and I’m pretty sure what’s going on this time, so I raise the window. I’m face to face with a middle-aged man who says, “Jade?”

  “Jade,” I grumble. “Could he have picked a trashier name?” Sighing, I give the guy the bad news. “No, I’m not Jade. You have the wrong window. I hate to break it to you, but there’s no Jade. The asshole next door is the one you’re looking for, but unless you’re into cock, I wouldn’t bother.”

  Shocked, he steps back. “Are you serious?”

  “No, I always make up elaborate stories when some guy tries to get in my apartment.”

  “The message said—”

  “To climb through the window, I know. Again, you have the wrong window, and my neighbor’s a dude. Good night.” I jerk the window shut. This shit is ridiculous. Somehow, I don’t think the average person deals with stuff like this. Only on Violent Circle.

  I don’t bother to see if the guy leaves or tries Jasper’s window. Instead, I crawl back into bed and manage a few more hours sleep before work.

  The week goes about as well as the last one. We still have to be guarded by security since the protesters are still going strong. It doesn’t stop customers from streaming in, though, and by the end of the week, I’m starting to think Wyatt is right. Scarlet Toys can outlast the protesters.

  Jani leaves first on Friday night, leaving me and Wyatt to close the store. She’s barely out the door when I’m pushed against the wall and his tongue is in my mouth.

  He kisses me stupid, then steps back and grins. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for hours.”

  God, every time I see this man, his beauty hits me like a punch in the face. I’ve had that gorgeous face between my legs. You’d think I’d be acclimated to seeing it by now, but no.

  “I don’t think this is proper office behavior,” I tease.

  “I’m not proper. Come home with me tonight.” His hand starts to travel down my shorts, but I grab it.

  “Sorry, Mr. Proper, off limits at the moment. Somebody poisoned the water hole.”

  He steps back and his entire face is a question mark.

  “It’s shark week? The gauge is in the red?”

  “Oh, you’re ovary-acting!” he laughs, kissing me on the forehead. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you to come home with me. We’ll just watch a movie or something.”

  I want to. I really do, but we’ve been spending a lot of time together. This is supposed to be about sex. Just a little fling until he leaves. “Sorry, I just want to go home alone and curl up with a book and enough chocolate to choke an elephant. Do you still want to go to the block party tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely, just tell me what time.”

  “Around three?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  * * * *

  The Fourth of July block party last year ended with one of the guys from Frat Hell blowing off the tip of his finger with a firework if that tells you the kind of party I’m anticipating tonight. If Wyatt wasn’t scared away by seeing Dennis’s naked ass, I imagine he can handle this.

  “Well, if it isn’t the magical disappearing slut,” Jani calls as I step out my front door. She’s sitting on Samantha’s step, and I can smell the weed they’re smoking.

  “Starting early?” I walk over to join them.

  “Mom is feeling pretty good, so she’s spending the holiday at my cousin’s house. I’m free.” She grins up at me, offering me the joint. “And it’s time I got details, so spill it. Tell me that sexy fucker is terrible in bed so I don’t have to hate you.” Jani hands the joint to Samantha when I shake my head.

  “Not going to be able to do it. For once, I found a man whose skills match his body.”

  Samantha laughs. “That’s a rare thing. The last guy I was with who was all muscle and cock had no idea what to do with it.”

  A sudden bang sounds from the other end of the circle, followed by loud laughter. “It’s coming from the duckling’s place. Kids are running wild while the older one from next door lights firecrackers,” Jani explains.

  One of the three bedroom apartments on the end houses a couple with four kids, all under five years old. When they walk them over to the park, they stay in a line like ducklings.

  “So, any bet on how early an ambulance will be called this year?” I ask, pulling my phone from my back pocket.

  “It’ll be a miracle if we make it until dark,” Samantha replies.

  Wyatt pulls into the parking space in front of my apartment and Jani chuckles. “Look who’s slumming it. I can’t believe you invited Mr. Hot and Proper. He’s going to run away screaming.”

  With his expensive clothing and high class manners, everyone sees him as a stuffy rich guy, but I know better. “Nah, he can handle a little trashy fun.”

  Wyatt approaches with a smile on his face, and Samantha murmurs something that sounds like ride him like a cowgirl. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he says.

  “It is now,” Jani remarks, her gaze traveling over his body. He’s dressed casually, in shorts and a navy tee.

  Ignoring her, he wraps an arm around my waist and drops a quick kiss on my lips. “Am I early?”

  “Nope. They’re already grilling burgers in the playground. The street will be full within an hour.”

  “Would you like a drink?” Samantha asks, beating me to it.

  “I was about to offer the same thing,” Wyatt replies. “I have a cooler full of beer in my trunk.”

  “Wyatt, this is my neighbor, Samantha,�
�� I tell him, and he reaches out his hand.

  She shakes it, practically licking her lips at the sight of him. I can’t even blame her. That was my first reaction too. “Nice to meet you,” she replies, offering him the joint in her hand.

  “No thanks.”

  “You don’t smoke?” Jani asks.

  “Occasionally, but I’ll pass for now, thanks.”

  Linking my arm through his, I pull him away from the two women I know are imagining dirty things in their heads. “Come on. Let’s take a walk. I’ll introduce you to the other crazies.”

  The whole neighborhood is out, and more people are pulling in and parking beside the playground every minute. It may be the residents who throw this party every year, but plenty of other friends and relatives show up.

  Two large grills are smoking away at one end of the playground, manned by a couple of older guys I’ve said hello to, but don’t really know. There’s a massive game of tag going on that seems to include adults as well as kids.

  Coolers are scattered about, with signs that offer the contents to whoever wants a drink or a snack.

  “Cass! Over here! We’ve got cornhole!”

  “Not sure I’d be announcing that,” Wyatt mumbles with a grin.

  “You have no idea what cornhole is, do you?” I ask, pulling him toward the back of the apartment building.

  “No, and I’m a little afraid to ask.”

  Noble stands by a large, folding table which holds a massive watermelon. One of the other Frat Hell guys, Denton, begins cutting it up, and Noble hands me a chunk. “Tell me if it’s strong enough.”

  It’s hot out and the sweet, cold juice tastes like heaven. If heaven was dipped in vodka. Wincing, I swallow. “Yeah, definitely strong enough.”

  Wyatt accepts a chunk as well and he and Noble start talking about some video game stuff while I wander over to talk to some of the other neighbors gathered around the picnic table.

  “Careful, hun,” Neal cautions. “There’s a bunch of poison ivy around that tree. My girl has already got into it. Had to send her home to wash off.”

  “You can’t wash off poison ivy.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it couldn’t hurt.”

  Actually, it’s likely to spread the oil around that causes the rash, but I’m not going to argue. It’s too late anyway.

  At that moment, Trey, another guy who lives in Frat Hell appears wearing a pink baby bib and carrying a yellow toddler’s sippy cup.

  “What the hell?” Wyatt laughs as Trey, Noble, and Denton join us.

  “This is Wyatt,” Noble says to Trey. “He’s here with Cass. Wyatt, this is Trey, who spilled his beer in the middle of the living room rug and now has to drink like a toddler.”

  Judging by the cheesy grin on his face, Trey is drunk already. “I told you, it was Kenny! He kicked it over!”

  A head pops out of the window. “Lies! All lies!”

  “I demand a trial by combat!” Trey announces, yanking off the bib.

  Wyatt, Neal, and I step back out of the way, and lean against the fence to see what these crazy guys are going to do next. Kenny stalks out the back door carrying two sets of huge, inflatable boxing gloves.

  Stepping back, Noble announces, “A trial by combat has been declared!”

  They both put on the gloves and proceed to beat the crap out of each other until Trey finally ends up on the ground and taps out. Laughing, Neal, Wyatt and I leave them still arguing over who has to wear the bib and drink their beer from a sippy cup.

  A few hours later, the party is in full swing. Jani sits beside me on a picnic table and we watch a bunch of the guys play basketball. Wyatt has no trouble fitting right in with my friends and neighbors. He may have been raised rich, but he definitely isn’t stuck up about it.

  “Your man can slum it pretty good,” Jani says, handing me a Jello shot.

  Wyatt reaches over his head and pulls off his shirt, wiping his sweaty face with it before tossing it aside. I’m so fixated on watching him, I barely hear Jani sigh.

  “Oh, he’s definitely going in the rub club.”

  “Jani!”

  “What? Like I’m the only one who saw that in slow motion? He may be yours, but he has a starring lineup in my fantasies now.”

  “What about Noble?” I tease. As if he hears his name, Noble winks at Jani, and gets rewarded by a body check that puts him on the ground.

  “Pass. Wyatt, though. Fuck, Cass, you hit the sexy jackpot.”

  Taking another drink of my margarita, I roll my eyes at her. “You can stop drooling over him now.”

  “Relax, you get to actually get him naked. He’s just a figure in my dirty imagination.”

  I can’t blame her. I can barely take my eyes off of him myself. His face lights up with a charming smile when he looks my direction, and I suddenly feel like a fumbling high school girl with a crush again. His chest is covered in a light sheen of sweat, and as he lifts his arms to shoot the ball, the muscles in his back flex and tighten. My mouth damn near waters at the sight of him bending over to scoop up the ball when the game is finished.

  “Aw, look how hot he is. You know what he needs?” Jani says. “A go on the slip and slide.”

  My drink attempts to escape through my nose when I laugh. Yeah, of course she wants to see him all wet and soapy and…why am I not going along with this?

  “Agreed,” I murmur as he approaches me.

  Slinging his shirt over his shoulder, he sits beside me and puts his arm around my neck. “You’re all sweaty,” I squeal, and he chuckles, pulling me into his lap.

  “You like it. I saw you over here watching me.”

  “Maybe I just thought a tall guy would have some game.” I shrug.

  “You are a terrible liar.”

  When I look up at him, his lips are inches away from mine and I can’t help myself. He doesn’t seem to mind the PDA though, so I grab his lips with mine. He tastes like the cherry sports drink he’s been guzzling, and I can’t get enough of him. A second before I can suggest we go back to my place so I can blow him like a party horn, Jani speaks up.

  “So, we were just heading to the slip and slide, Wyatt. You up for it?”

  He grins down at me. “Cass?”

  “It’s not the kind of slip and slide I had in mind right now, but sure, why not?” I nip his ear with my teeth. “Then we go back to my place.”

  The slip and slide is a homemade monstrosity created by the guys from Frat Hell. Huge sheets of plastic line the small hill at the playground and stretch across the park, ending in an inflatable kiddie pool. Since water alone wasn’t a fast enough ride, they’ve added dish soap so the whole thing is a mass of bubbles.

  A small crowd is gathered around it, and there are as many adults taking a turn as there are kids.

  “Age before beauty,” I tell him, handing him an innertube.

  “That smart mouth. I’m going to have to find a way to keep it busy.”

  The thought sends a flush across my skin, and I wonder if he can tell that I want nothing more than to take him back to my apartment and demonstrate what my mouth can do. “One turn, and you’re coming home with me,” I inform him in a voice just low enough so the others can’t hear.

  Grinning, he steps back and announces loudly. “Just let me have one turn, Cass! Then I promise I’ll take you home and let you touch me.”

  The neighbors all crack up, and I flip him off.

  “If you aren’t willing, I’ll gladly fall on that grenade!” Samantha shouts.

  It’s a good thing I’m not a jealous person. Wyatt grabs the innertube and dives down the hill, and I do the same right behind him. Cool, soapy water sprays over me as I barrel down the strip of plastic and into the kiddie pool where I crash into Wyatt. His body is slick beneath my hands when he plants a kiss on my lips.

  “I have so much fun with you, Cass.” It’s a simple statement, but the sincerity in his voice grabs my heart. After all the pickup lines and bullshit I’ve heard in my life, just h
earing he likes to be with me and knowing he means it makes me feel warm and happy.

  “I like being with you too. You’re not nearly as stuffy as I thought you’d be when we met.”

  Laughing, we climb out of the pool. “It was the suit, wasn’t it?”

  “Mostly, and the manners. I love both of those things though, so don’t you dare change.”

  “Nope,” he agrees, linking his arm around my waist as we walk back. “I can wear the shit out of a suit.”

  “I also enjoy your modesty and your lack of competitiveness.”

  “Of course you do,” he agrees. “I’m the most modest.”

  We’re drawn away from our silly conversation by shouts coming from across the street. Two men I’ve never seen are screaming at one another and a crowd is starting to gather around them.

  “Do you know them?” Wyatt asks.

  “No, they don’t live here.”

  Both men are obviously drunk, and no one intervenes when the most ridiculous attempt at a fistfight kicks off.

  One man, wearing a white tank and cargo shorts, shoves the other. The momentum sends both of them to the ground and we watch as they take a long minute to get back to their feet. The other man is clad in only a pair of basketball shorts that are hanging too low.

  “Was my beer, you chuckle fuck!” white tank guy slurs.

  Jani rolls her eyes. “They’re fighting over a beer? There are coolers full of free drinks everywhere.”

  “Hush, we’ll miss the show,” Noble says, stepping up behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders. I’m a little surprised she doesn’t shrug him off or kick him in the balls or something, but she just focuses on the fight in front of us. Which only gets funnier and more pathetic.

  At least four punches have been thrown, but none connect, and they spend the majority of the time circling each other. The guy in the basketball shorts keeps closing one eye, trying to see straight. It must work because he finally manages to punch tank top in the mouth.

  Tank top shoves him down, wobbles on his feet, then grabs a political sign stuck in the yard to steady himself. Too bad the sign is made of poster board. It gives way under his weight and he goes down again.