Broken Lion (17 page)

Irish Kiss: I’ll send it certified.

Me: What if the mailman gets robbed?

I was so scared I sent that before I thought about how lame it sounded.

Irish Kiss: That only happens in the old west.

Me: I live in a bad part of town.

That was a lie and a half and it wasn’t going to make her want to come here.

Me: I actually live in the Hollywood Hills. It’s not bad at all.

Irish Kiss: That’s not what I’ve heard.

Was she joking? Hinting that I was the bad thing in the Hills or something else? I couldn’t tell. I hated texting.

Me: I promise it’s safe. My house is gated.

I sounded like a douche because only douches told you their houses were gated. I needed to start thinking before I texted.

Irish Kiss: Do you really want me to drive it over?

Me: If you have time. No rush.

Now I loved texting because I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.

Tigger stalked out of the jungle in a low crouch, pausing in the shadows at the edge of it, ready to shoot off in any direction. He looked as nervous as I felt waiting for Brigid to respond. She could easily change her mind about coming over.

Irish Kiss: Okay, what’s your address?

Grinning from ear to ear, I texted it to her.

Irish Kiss: When should I come over?

Right now!!!!

Me: Whenever.

Irish Kiss: How about this afternoon?

Me: That’ll work.

Irish Kiss: See you then.

“Hell yeah!” I shouted, excited Brigid was coming over.

Tigger bolted across the lawn and disappeared around the side of the house.

Crazy cat.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

I cleaned up all the carving tools and the half finished lions in the living room and put everything in the garage, in case Brigid wanted a tour of the house. I didn’t want her seeing the carving before I finished it. The only people who ever wanted to see my garage were the people who wanted to know what kind of car I drove. Brigid didn’t strike me as the type, but I put a tarp over the carving just in case.

I paced the house on my crutches until my knee started throbbing. Maybe the brace was too tight. I sat down and loosened it and handled a few business calls, but I finished those quickly.

The only thing left to do was wait.

I played the new Doom game on my PlayStation 4. That got old quick. Too bad Dan wasn’t here to play with me. I bought it because he was telling me how awesome it was when we were at Universal.

Tried reading. Couldn’t focus on the words because I kept seeing Brigid’s face.

I ended up pacing in front of an old Bruce Lee movie on satellite. Enter the Dragon. Couldn’t go wrong with that. The movie was in the middle of the fight between Bolo Yeung and John Saxon. Nothing like watching a groin kick bring down a mountain. Saxon destroyed the much larger man. When there were no rules, all bets were off.

The landline portable phone rang. Nobody had the number for it, so it was someone at the gate.

Brigid.

I hoped. My heart skipped a beat anyway.

I was more nervous than the time I lost my virginity, and that was years ago. But I remembered it, and this was ten times worse. I picked up the phone and hit the TALK button.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. It’s Brigid.”

“I’ll buzz you in. Drive up to the front door. You can park anywhere.”

I opened the door for her as she was coming up the steps. As always, the sight of her made my dick stir and she wasn’t even trying. She looked exactly like the sexy soccer mom she was. Off the shoulder T-shirt and skinny jeans. I could see her bra strap on one side. Did she do that on purpose? Her red hair flowed out behind her like a ball of fire as a soft breeze waved through it. And something I hadn’t seen on her before: movie star shades and a hint of lipstick. This was the closest I’d seen her to dressed up.

“You going on a date after this?” I blurted it out. I sounded like a jealous prick.

She frowned. “Why?”

“You’re all dressed up.”

“This is dressed up?”

“From what I’ve seen of you, yeah.”

“I don’t just live in scrubs and yoga pants, you know.”

“Good to know. So, are you going on a date or what?” What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to get my game under control or I was going to blow this thing. I didn’t even know what this was, but I didn’t want to screw it up.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She grinned and lifted her shades off her head. Those minty green Irish Spring eyes of hers just about killed me. Combined with her marry me smile, I could barely keep myself together. She wasn’t making this easy. I took a deep breath to relax.

“That’s cool. I’ve got a couple hotties coming over later anyway. We’re gonna watch porn then shoot a sex tape after.”

“No you’re not,” she laughed nervously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” I mimicked.

“I don’t want to know what you do in your sex mansion.”

“You mean besides have lots of sex?”

She smirked. “I brought your picture.” She held it up like I was supposed to take it. I didn’t want this exchange to end here. I wanted it to last forever. But I’d take an hour if she’d give me that much.

“You wanna come inside? Meet the family?”

She frowned. “You have a family?”

“The four legged feline kind.” Women always loved that I had cats. I knew it. And I needed to score as many points with Brigid as I could.

“Oh,” she grinned. “Don’t tell me you have actual lions and tigers.”

“No. I’ll leave that to my buddies Siegfried and Roy.”

“You don’t actually know them, do you?”

“No. I did meet them in Vegas once. After one of my fights. Even went to their house and met all their white tigers. Beautiful animals.”

“I bet that was amazing.”

“Yeah it was. Also kind of sad. Those cats shouldn’t be locked up.”

“I know what you mean. Big cats are supposed to run wild and free. They don’t like cages and they don’t like rules.”

I grinned, “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

She looked me up and down and smirked. That was a flirt. She was totally checking me out.

Yes, I was wearing a FEEL THE BEAST tank top to show off my arms and shoulders. And shorts so I could wear the brace. And I still had the crutches. Not the studliest look ever, but it was either crutches or limping.

“Should we go meet your cats?”

I motioned inside. “After you.”

She held onto the Harry Potter photo like it was hers. Maybe she didn’t want to part with it yet. That was a good sign.

We walked through the front entrance and I led her to the living room. I hung back a bit so I could check out her ass. Shouldn’t have done that. It made me hard for her every time I saw it.

“Look at that cat tree!” Brigid gasped. “That thing is huge!”

“That’s what the ladies always say,” I joked.

“Smart ass. Wow! It even has a cat hamster wheel!”

“Tigger loves the wheel. He’ll do like five minutes flat out. Never seen a cat with stamina like his.”

“Where’s Tigger?”

“Probably in the back yard hunting.”

“I love that you have tiger stripe carpeting on all the different levels of the cat tree. There’s like twenty of them. And it looks like an actual tree. Where did you find it? They don’t sell things like this at Petco. It must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Built it myself. It was like two-fifty for the wood, the stain, the carpeting and all the hardware. Labor was free. Did it in the garage where I keep my tools. Took me two full weeks to design and build.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” I was proud of it.

“The cats must love it.”

“Tigger was scared to shit of it when I finished putting it together. Wouldn’t come in the living room for a week. Gwen would stare at it from across the room like it might attack at any second. But you shoulda seen Aslan when I finished bolting it together. He climbed straight to the top shelf like he owned the thing. Made it his bitch.”

“Is that him sitting on top?”

“Yeah.”

Aslan flicked his tail.
What’s she doing here?

“What’s his name again?”

“That’s Aslan. You can call him Ass-lan.”

Ha ha, asshole.

“Why?”

“Look at that smug motherfucker. Why else?”

You’re lucky I don’t eat you when you’re asleep.
He turned his head away and stared at the wall.

“He does have that Superior Than Thou thing going. I wonder where he learned it from?” She snickered.

“Not from me,” I laughed.

“Uh huh.”

“There she is.”

Guenhwyvar walked out of the doorway that led to the kitchen and sat down, watching.

“Who’s that?”

“That’s Guenhwyvar.”

“Wait, how do you say it?”

“Gwen-WE-far. Like Guinevere. But you can call her Gwen.”

“As in, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table Guinevere?”

“Yup. She’s the queen of this castle. Ain’t that right, Gwen?”

Gwen busied herself licking her paw.

“Should I pet her?”

“Ask her.”

Brigid walked over to Gwen, who turned up her head to watch, eyes big. “Hey, Gwen. Mind if I scratch behind your ears?” Brigid bent down and Gwen sat up on her back legs and dipped her head. Brigid went to work. “You love that, don’t you?”

I could hear Gwen purring from where I stood. “She loves that. Likes you too.”
She’s not the only one.

Brigid smiled at me. “I should give you your picture.”

“You can set it on the coffee table.”

She did. “Thanks again, Lion. For… everything.”

“It’s all good.” Was that a brush off? I hoped not. “How’s Daniel?”

“He’s fine. He’s at his Dad’s.”

“Good to hear. He’s a great kid. Hey, can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh. Okay.”

Why did I feel like this was prom night or whatever and it was my first date ever? I wanted to tear her clothes off. Short of that, I wanted to flirt with her until she was dying to fuck me. But I was walking on eggshells. I would settle for talking.

“Follow me to the kitchen? I can’t really carry anything with these crutches.”

“Oh, right.”

I winced with every step. Damn ribs.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I cracked a couple ribs that night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Already had them X-Rayed. Nothing serious.”

“I’m really sorry, Lion. What happened that day was…”

“Let’s not talk about it, okay?” It was a downer. The least we could do was have fun for a few minutes before she left. Forever. “You want some water?”

“As long as it’s not bottled.”

“What is it with everyone and plastic bottles?”

“They’re bad for the environment.”

“I reuse the bottles,” I groaned.

“I don’t want your used bottles,” she giggled.

“Fine. How about tap?” I leaned my crutches against the counter and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet.

“Perfect.”

I filled a glass. “I hope you like the taste of dirt.” LA City water was not the best.

“It’s silt. Which is not dirt.”

“Then what the hell is dirt?”

“Dirt is soil. You grow plants in it.”

“You’re such a librarian,” I laughed.

“You like it,” she smirked.

I did. “Let me get you a chair.” I crutched over and pulled one out in the breakfast nook.

“Thank you.”

I pushed it in and brought her her water glass and sat down.

“So…” I said.

“So…” She sipped her water.

Damn it. She wanted me. I knew it like I knew my own name. I would take her on my breakfast table if it wasn’t for the damn rules.

“I talked to a friend of mine the other day,” she said flirtatiously.

“What about?”

“Us.”

I liked the sound of that. “Which friend?”

“An old doctor friend of mine. Would you believe he married one of his patients?”

“Just one?”

She snickered. “Yes. Back in the seventies.” She had this sexy as hell look on her face. I wanted to kiss it off. My dick started to uncoil in my shorts under the breakfast table.

“What are you saying, Irish?”

“Mmm, I don’t know.” She shrugged. Her legs were crossed and her top leg bounced like crazy.

“You’re blushing, Irish.”

“Am I?”

“Yup. I wonder what that means?”

“It means I’m going to fuck you, Lion Maxwell.”

I would’ve choked on my water if I had been drinking any. My dick missiled in my pants. I’m surprised I didn’t shoot my load then and there. No woman had ever turned me on as much as she did. I couldn’t explain it, but it was a fact.

“Is that a promise, Irish?”

“It’s a fucking promise.”

“Ho-ho,” I laughed. I couldn’t believe her boldness. It was quite the turn on. My entire body was sizzling in anticipation of sinking my dick deep inside her wet and willing pussy. “There’s only one problem with your logic.”

“Oh? What’s that,
Lion
?” She said my name like a taunt. A challenge. Her minty green eyes flashed pure sex.

“I’m going to be the one fucking you.”

Chapter 20

BRIGID

“Fuck.” Lion ran his hand through his tangle of dark hair. “I don’t have any condoms.” He looked apologetic.

“You don’t? You?”

“You say that like I’m a manwhore.”

“Aren’t you?” I didn’t think he was, but it never hurt to ask.

“Not even close. I bet you’ve had more sex in the past year than I have.”

“I doubt that,” I snorted.

“Wanna bet?”

“Yes. What are we wagering?”

“How about whoever loses has to give oral to the winner.”

“Deal.” We shook hands.

“Okay, Irish. We’ll both say at the same time how many people we slept with in the past year.”

“On the count of three?”

He nodded. “One, two, three! Zero!”

“None!”

We both laughed.

I said, “Wait, Lion. You expect me to believe you haven’t had sex in a year?”

“More than a year. I’m officially a born again virgin. I’ve even been tested. Clean bill of health. How about you?”