Oh, and he did.
An excerpt from “10 Rules to Catch a Billionaire” (erotic romance)
The crowd should’ve kept her mind off of the confrontation in Joe’s office. She was in her groove, blasting classic rock. Shuffling from customer to customer, spinning bottles, mixing drinks, knowing which of her regulars to give an extra top-off to (they’d leave a little extra for her in return), and keeping a smile plastered on her face kept the time moving forward.
No one knew that inside, Roxie was struggling to keep it together. Joe had crossed a major line. Again. This was a college town, though. There were easily one hundred girls who would be eager for her job. She was replaceable and she hated it. She loathed Joe more, because he knew that, too. It didn’t matter how uncomfortable she was at work. She’d have to suck it up.
She needed this job. There just weren’t others in town. She had looked before. Roxie might be able to pick up a few part-time shifts, but nothing would pay as well as bartending did. It didn’t pay great, so that said something, too. At least she had her regulars, and she was damned good at the job.
It was this torrent of thoughts that prevented her from seeing the new face. Roxie was in the middle of pouring gin when she glanced up.
Her hand trembled a little mid-pour, spilling gin out of the glass.
He was tall. Super tall. Walking toward the bar and searching for a seat, the stranger was easily 6’5”; a head above everyone else. Roxie’s mouth went dry and she suddenly felt very thirsty. Mr. Tall was also Mr. Dark and Mr. Handsome. A rugged face that looked a little rock and roll, chiseled jaw like a model, and rich chocolate locks that fell lazily onto his forehead. Holy moly, and the broodiest, bluest eyes.
Roxie stopped pouring and threw back the gin. The juniper taste burned down her throat, skipping her stomach and making its way straight to her pussy. Just looking at the stranger made her hot, her skin prickling and arousal spiking. It wasn’t love at first sight so much as “I want to climb you like a tree and have crazy monkey sex” at first sight.
“Hey!” The customer she had been pouring for protested. Shaking her head, she smiled and tried to ignore her heart stuttering in her chest.
“Sorry! Let me pour you another. Double, and on me.” She winked and that was all it took. The customer beamed. She made his drink and wiped her palms on her jeans. She was the only one working the bar. She’d have to take Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome’s order. And try desperately not to embarrass herself in the process.
She walked up to him, leaning on the bar and showing off her considerable cleavage. “What can I get you?” Her voice only shook a little. She was hopeful he didn’t hear it over the noise of the crowd. Not that it would have made a difference, though. His gaze met hers and her jaw honest-to-god dropped. Those blues were even better up close. Not blue like the ocean or the sky or all those god-awful clichés. Blue like her favorite crayon when she was a kid, rich and clear, dominating the white like a reverse headlight.
He smirked and she realized he saw the effect he was having on her. Damn. So much for not embarrassing herself. “Whiskey, neat.”
Roxie’s stomach clenched and her panties got a little wet. Nothing turned her on more than a man ordering a man’s drink. She reached under the bar, grabbed the house’s best bottle of whiskey, pulled it out, and poured. Joe charged way too much for it, keeping it more for show than selling-- no one could afford it. Maybe it was that shot of gin burning in her, but… Fuck Joe.
Tonight it would be the good whiskey with a handsome stranger. Tomorrow would bring what it brought, and like all the other shit, Roxie would wade through that as well.
~ ~ ~ ~
“Can you believe that? She kicked me out of class! This is my last fucking semester and I just need that class, and she kicked me out!”
“That’s unacceptable,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome replied as they clinked their shot glasses and tossed them back.
Roxie and the newcomer had been trading shots for the better part of the evening. The crowd was thinning out and it was late, so she was sitting with her new favorite customer and drinking. Joe had already left for the night and after five shots of whiskey, Roxie wasn’t sure she cared if he came back and caught her schmoozing on the clock.
She looked at the clock. It was time to close up. Her mind was foggy, but her heart started to pound. She didn’t want her conversation with the man to end. She really should learn his name. How did they share so many drinks and not exchange names?
“Hey,” she slurred. How embarrassing! “What’s your name?”
His blue eyes narrowed but then, just when she was beginning to worry, he winked. “Trey.” Her heart skipped a beat at his flirty grin. Trey, Mr. Gorgeous. Trey, a great listener and even better sympathizer. Trey, so tall she actually felt short. Yeah, there was no way she was going to let him walk away. Not yet, at least.
She tried to wink back, but she had a feeling she blinked instead. “Well, Trey, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit here while I close shop. Then we’re going to take the rest of this bottle and drink it. Then I’ll probably kiss you. Probably. So that’s what’s happening.” Her cheeks flushed, but that could just as easily be the booze as it could be her boldness. Roxie was sassy and she was confident, but those things rarely translated themselves well when it came to men. Liquid courage was a potent thing, though, and the thing about bad days was that, after a point, they couldn’t get much worse. If Trey didn’t stay, then she’d feel bad about it, but at this point she didn’t feel as if she had much to lose, either.
“Well, Gorgeous Bartender, that’s an offer I won’t refuse if you’ll tell me your name, too.”
She smiled so big her cheeks hurt. “Roxie. I’m Roxie. And I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Her finger jabbed in his chest. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his mouth, his lips lightly grazing her knuckles. Roxie licked her lips and imagined his mouth between her legs.
She helped the remaining customers settle their tabs. She checked the bathrooms after they’d left and, thank God, they didn’t need more than a quick wipe-down. She cleaned the bar and put all the stools on the tables. The floor should probably be mopped, but she decided to leave it. Roxie didn’t want to leave Trey waiting too long.
Sauntering over, she sat in a stool next to him at the bar.
“So, where were we?”
“You should probably charge me for this bottle of whiskey.” He held it up and she was shocked to see they’d already put a big dent in it. “After all, how else can I know how much of a tip to give you?”
It was an innocent enough question, but Roxie’s hungry eyes went immediately to Trey’s crotch. Tight jeans left little to the imagination. He was laying some thick pipe and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to strip him naked and verify that her eyes weren’t deceiving her. “I’m thinking I want more than just the tip,” she said before she could stop herself.
Roxie’s hands flew up to her mouth. God, could she ever just shut up? Mortified, she waited, expecting him to run out on her. Her mother had a saying about girls who talked too much, and it was not a nice saying.
Trey’s head rocked back as his laughter belted out. “Babe, I’ll give you all of it and more.” As his chuckles died down, his gaze met hers and whoosh, the air left her lungs. Joke time was over. Trey’s eyes were hungry and they were locked on her. Roxie’s arousal amplified and the air around them crackled with sexual tension.
Before it could get weird, she hopped up and went to the register. Her whole body was flushed and hot. When did it get so hot in the bar? The heat made her feel a little dizzy and she gripped the old wooden bar tightly, looking at her knuckles, white and straining to hold her steady.
“It’ll be, uh…” She faltered. Joe had wanted to charge two hundred dollars for the bottle. It was only there as a showpiece, really, and probably worth only a hundred (only a hundred!), but now Roxie’s actions were catching up to her, along with some seri
ous regret. She couldn’t ask this guy for so much money and then hope for that late-night kiss! But the bottle was the only one in stock, and Joe would surely notice it was gone in the morning.
Fuck. Thinking actions through was not one of Roxie’s strong points. She tended to act first and deal with the consequences later. Her friends loved it, calling her “spontaneous” and “crazy.” As she realized what she had done, though, she figured Joe would just call her “fired.”
“Here, this should cover it.” Trey reached into the pocket on his tight, tight jeans and pulled out a wad of bills, placing a few on the counter. When Roxie picked them up, she realized she was holding five hundred bucks. The heat left her body and her sweat became clammy. What kind of guy just carried around a huge wad of cash? Could just nonchalantly hand out five hundred dollars?
That whole actions and consequences thing seemed even more real to her now and left her swooning. She was in over her head with Trey and it was too late to turn back.
“Yeah, this’ll cover it.” She handed back three of the hundred dollar bills. “I don’t need that much.”
He shrugged. “Keep it. That can be the tip.”
He was offering to tip her as much as she made in three or four days. Enough to help ease the burden of fixing her car. It was almost her share of the rent, which she still hadn’t talked to Beth about. She bit her lip, wanting to reach out and take the money. But accepting money for nothing meant owing, and Roxie didn’t want to owe anyone.
Especially not Trey.
She wanted something more from Trey tonight, and if she took that money, it would ruin it. It had to be on her terms. “No, that’s too generous.”
“It’s no big deal.” He pushed the money towards her. “Take it.”
It was the reaction she needed to clear her head a bit. Handsome men and lots of money just weren’t things she had in her life, but his casual treatment of the cash pissed her off. He clearly didn’t know what it was like to struggle paycheck to paycheck. Having grown up in a comfortable home and choosing to make her own way helped her experience both sides of the coin. She wouldn’t hold that against him, but she would hold him accountable for his inability to understand why leaving just a large tip and then saying it was “no big deal” was, in fact, a big deal.
“Look, Trey, I’m not going to take that money. We have a thing going on here, and if I take it, it is going to change everything. I’ve had a really shitty day, and I don’t want the thing we have to be ruined.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “I know you’ve had a bad day. You’ve been talking about it all night. School payments, rent, car. I know you need the money and I don’t, so take it.”
You’ve been talking about it all night. Had she been? As her mind, still fuzzy with drink, dredged up the memory of their discussion she realized with dismay that he was right. She’d been talking about herself, and nothing but her terrible situation, all night. She didn’t know one thing about him and he knew everything about her.
It’d be okay with her if a hole opened in the ground to swallow her up. He was probably paying her to shut up.
She played with her hair a bit, looking at the money. He’s trying to be nice. It’s okay to let people be nice, right?
“No. Maybe. Here’s the thing. I meant it when I said I want to kiss you. I’m crazy embarrassed right now that I’ve been unpacking all my baggage. If you want to just drink together and part as friends, cool--I’ll take the cash. But if, despite my talking way too much about myself, you still want to make out later, I can’t take the money. It’ll feel like… like you’re paying me. You know. For things.”
As he realized what she was saying, his expression grew stern. “Roxie, I don’t have to pay women to like me. If I want to tip you, I’m going to tip you and you’re going to accept it. If I want to kiss you later, then you better fucking believe I’m going to kiss you until you can’t think straight, and then I’ll kiss you some more. And if I minded sitting here and listening to you talk about your ‘baggage,’ as you say, I would have just left. I’m a grown man and I do what I want.”
10 Rules to Catch a Billionaire is out now! Don't miss sassy Roxie and seductive Trey in this fresh take on Billionaires!
Excerpt from Struck Down, a dark erotic romance.
I never expected love to find me in the trunk of a car. Then again, I had never expected to be shoved into a trunk and kidnapped.
* * * *
“Hitchhiking.” Brian’s grimaced. “Renee, really?”
“Yeah! Hitchhiking.” He was my best friend, but he wasn’t going to dissuade me. I had just revealed how I would make my dream adventure happen. It was just happening a little sooner than I had planned. And solo. I hadn’t planned on that, either.
“You’re going to get drugged. Murdered. Cut into pieces and stored in some guy’s freezer and they’ll find you and call me and I’ll have to identify your head in a jar.” When he was upset, Brian spoke at a rapid clip.
Like he had a reason to be upset. I could punch him. This was about me. I was the one who had been left by my fiancé.
That’s right, I got dumped the day before I was meant to become a “mrs.”.
Absentmindedly my hand went to my chest, rubbing my bruised heart.
“Hey,” Brian chided, softer. His hand grabbed mine and stopped it. “I’m sorry. I get it.”
“Do you? It’s just…” Just what, exactly? How do you tell someone, even if they’re your best friend, that you’ve been broken? That you are just the shell of who you once were?
“Shhh, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” He pulled me into a hug and I buried my face in his chest. If only Brian was the kind of guy I wanted to marry. He is loyal, steadfast, and hysterically funny. All the things you’d want in a husband. Oh, and he is gay. That part… not such marriage material. At least not for me.
Matt had been who I wanted to marry. His height had perfectly complimented my petite frame. His blond hair to my dark curls. His blue eyes to my chocolate ones. His lightness was perfection, beautiful and enchanting. He made me feel dark and exotic, which was impressive considering I was just an average girl from North Carolina. Did I mention he was a brilliant engineer? Being with him felt easy. I didn’t have to think when I was with him. Maybe a bit boring, but stable.
He was a knight in shining armor, and he was gone. He had taken the deposit for the wedding, the ring, and our friends with him. All but Brian, who was doing his best to talk me out of my next plan.
I was going to hitchhike from my coastal town of Wilmington to Maine, backpack down the Appalachian Trail, and then cut across the Mountains to Sea trail. And I was doing it alone.
* * * *
It had been one thing to make my plans and tell them to Brian. It was another to leave my befuddled and worried parents with a backpack on, a bedroll strapped to the top, and my thumb ready to try to hook a ride. Currently I was standing next to I-40. Not right next to it, where I should be if I wanted to hook a ride, but a good fifty feet away.
Behind me was Wilmington. College beach town and vacation home central. All of the houses built on stilts, still too close to the water, all painted in pastel colors. I lived with my parents on the inside of the town in a small townhouse. I had never been anywhere outside of the Outer Banks, except for one road trip as a child to Cedar Point in Ohio.
Matt was still in Wilmington. He had left me, so it was far past time for me to blow the sleepy beach city. Past time, yet here I was, stalling.
My feet dragged as I moved toward the zipping cars and roaring trucks. The air smelled like rubber and oil, the pavement so hot I could feel it through my sandals.
I wished I had more money.
I wished Matt hadn’t cleaned out the accounts, taking my travel savings.
… I wished Matt was with me, on my first big, real adventure.
Shaking, I stuck my arm out. The sun’s rays warmed my already tan skin. Being a beach kid meant I was brown year-round
. My mom called me her ‘toasted almond.’
With more than a little hesitation, I stuck my thumb in the air. As soon as it was up, every warning I had received raced through my head. “Renee, it’s so dangerous,” my mom’s voice cried. “Honey, it isn’t just dangerous, it’s tacky.” “No one likes hitchhikers anymore. I’d be surprised if you even get a lift out of town,” my dad had tried another approach. “Murdered, drugged, and chopped up.” Brian’s voice echoed.
Oh shit.
I prepared to take my arm down. To head back to my folk’s place in defeat.
But there wasn’t time--a car pulled up beside me.
I bit my lip and walked to the passenger side as the window was rolling down.
A teenage girl looked at me through heavy black glasses. Her friend who was driving was busy checking her flaming red nail polish.
“You hitching?”
“Yeah.”
A huge grin. “That’s so cool. We’re heading to Raleigh, want in?”
It was perfect. In Raleigh I could switch from an east-west route and head north.
“Sure, thanks!”
Their trunk popped and I tossed my bag in. As I entered their car my hand found its way to my chest again. The habit had started the very moment Matt had left me standing, dumbfounded, in front of the preacher. It was used to trying to rub away the sharp ache that came with thinking of Matt. Those thoughts came often.
Now, though…
Now it was trying to slow the rapid beat of excitement. This was it. I was doing something huge. My first big adventure.
I looked out the back as we pulled onto I-40 and kept looking as the only city I had ever known grew smaller and smaller, and then disappeared.
* * * *
The girls were Mandy and Sarah. They were out of school for the summer and escaping to Raleigh to party with college boys. Their jokes made me smile, but my heart wasn’t into getting to know them. It was too busy trying to burst from my chest.
The Corrupt Trilogy Page 31