Slay (Storm MC #4) (32 page)

My brows knit.  “Know what?  I have no idea what either of you are talking about.”

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Are you going to tell me?”  I ask, wishing one of them would fill me in.

Darla’s pain subsides enough for her to answer me.  “He’s the lead singer of Crave.”  That means nothing to me, and when she realises that, she exclaims, “God, Presley, how can you not know who Crave is?  They’re one of the best known rock bands in the world.  You of all people should know who they are.”

Jett steps in.  “Not everyone has heard of us, Darla.  I do occasionally find someone who doesn’t know me.”

She rolls her eyes.  “Well, now you’re just being humble.  Everyone knows who you are.”  She gives me a pointed stare.  “Except Presley which is odd because - ”

I cut her off.  “I don’t know every rock star in the world.”  I give her a dirty look and then look at Jett.  “Sorry.”

He shakes his head.  “No, I loved that you didn’t know.”

I send him a wicked grin.  “I’m not into rock stars so we can just pretend I don’t know.”

He chuckles.  “You’re on.”  And then his phone rings and he turns away to take the call.

Turning my attention back to Darla, I bend down and ask, “How are you feeling, hon?”

Her face is etched with pain.  “I’ve never been in so much pain.  Do you think it’s broken?”

“I have no clue.  Jett’s organising a car to come pick you up and take you to the hospital.”

She looks at him in awe and then gives me a dreamy grin.  “He’s got a good reputation, you know.  Goes through women, apparently, but a nice guy regardless.  It’s so nice of him to do this for me.”

“Oh god, you know that most of the shit you hear in the press is crap so I don’t know why you listen to that rubbish.”

She shrugs.  “It’s Jett Vaughn, babe.  I’ve been following him for years.  I can’t believe I’ve met him, but bloody hell, why did it have to be when I look like shit?”  She pauses before her eyes light up again and she adds, “Fuck, I can’t believe
he’s
your one-night stand.”

I laugh and wink at her.  “Yeah, he’s the guy I had my lips wrapped around when you rang.”

“How the hell did you get so lucky?”

I’m just about to answer her when Jett comes back.  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I’ve got a car waiting downstairs for us.”  He looks at Darla.  “I’ll carry you down if you’d like.”

I’m sure she’s about to burst from either pain or excitement and I would bet good money on the latter. 

She’s tiny, and he easily carries her to the car.  Me?  I’m still in shock this man gave up a blow job to take my friend to the hospital. 

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Sneak Peek of Breaking Kate by D. Kelly

The following is an excerpt from D. Kelly’s book Breaking Kate – Book One of The Acceptance Series

Chapter 1 - Michael

Las Vegas, also known as Sin City, is my current job location for the next few days. How could anyone not love a city whose entire motto is ‘what happens here, stays here’? I’m staying at the MGM Grand this time around. When I come with the guys they like to stay at the newest hotels, but I like the MGM. It’s not
that
old, and you just can’t beat a hotel where there’s a bartender who not only knows your name, but also remembers your drink order no matter how long it’s been since your last visit.

I checked in late last night after work and crashed as soon as I got here. Today is Friday and I don’t have to be back at the site until tomorrow. I spent most of the day at the pool relaxing. Vegas in January is usually freezing, but today it was actually hovering around seventy-three, and that was nice enough for me to babe watch from a pool side cabana. I need a new distraction—someone who can keep my mind off of Katherine.

It’s been almost four years, but lately I’ve been thinking about her daily. Hell, I have
always
thought about her daily, but now she haunts my mind every waking second of the day. I wish I was lucky enough to avoid her in my sleep, but it’s even worse then. My dreams are filled with visions of her laughing and of us making love; those dreams are the best because I can actually feel the emotion in them. Before the dream ends, it is always the same—the dream morphs into the day we broke up, the day I left her shattered in pieces, then all that happiness evaporates into a gut-searing pain. I wake up in a cold fucking sweat
Every. Single. Night.
Lately, the dreams are getting even more vivid and they seem to last a lot longer. I wonder how many times I can relive seeing the heartbreak in her eyes and feel the pain crushing through my soul.

It really doesn’t help that tomorrow is her birthday, but that’s why I volunteered to come out here this weekend—so that I would be sure to stay far away from Los Angeles. I know, without a doubt, if I had stayed home I would’ve gone to Connor’s party and gotten drunk. Anytime an emotional anniversary comes up it seems like Connor is having a party that weekend. As much as I tell myself I won’t drink, I always do, to the point of oblivion. Well, up until six months ago that is. Up until I fucked Vanessa right under Daniel’s nose. To be fair, I would’ve never been with her on a good day sober or drunk. She’s a grade A bitch, and I still wonder if she didn’t slip something in my drink that night because even drunk, I have
never
not known who I was fucking.

The best thing that came out of that night was Daniel finally breaking up with her. It killed us all to see how much she continually used him for his money. I get that she comes from trailer trash, drug addict parents who are barely conscious of what day it is, but she didn’t have to be vindictive and act like life owes her something. I grew up privileged, but I left it all behind and built myself up from the bottom after Katherine and I broke up. Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, but it was the best thing that could’ve happened to me and helped me grow into the man I was meant to be.

I need this weekend to be all about pleasure,
my
pleasure. Hopefully that will keep Katherine Moore out of my head once and for all. I’m looking forward to just losing myself in someone. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s pleasing women in bed, but in order to do that I need to find the right kind of girl. I don’t want a girl that’s going to want to latch on, or one that wants to exchange phone numbers. Hell, I’m perfectly fine with not even knowing her name because half the time I don’t remember it anyway. It always amazes me how gullible some women are. They are so easily excited when you call them by an endearing name. They have no clue I call them sweetie, sweetheart, baby, honey, sunshine, precious, beautiful or darling because I have forgotten their names. The goal for tonight is to find a hot girl with a nice ass and a great rack that I can bend over and fuck the living daylights out of. I prefer one I can tie to my bed so I can have complete control. It’s not like I have a fetish or anything, I just really don’t like to be caressed and touched a lot. I don’t like or want intimacy with my sex, not since Katherine. I just want to take them hard and rough. Believe it or not, girls love it. I’m great at giving multiple orgasms which is a skill I have developed over time. That’s another thing I regret about Katherine, I never tried to give her multiples. That’s something I would’ve loved to watch. Even after all this time I have never seen anyone come the way she did, it was exquisite. Just thinking about it now, years later, still makes me hard.
Damn it
. I need to get drunk fast so I can push her to the back of my mind; I’m so tired of thinking about her.

When the elevator doors open, my mood lightens up. I love casinos. Even the overwhelming smell of smoke is okay because it’s all part of the atmosphere. Vegas is truly the place where no one gives a fuck what anyone does, how they dress, or how they act. If you aren’t walking around drunk, you’re not doing Vegas right. Already there are girls eyeing me up—I know they think I’m hot and tonight I play it up to my advantage. It’s not like I’m even slightly conceited, but I’ve been asked  many times if I’m a long lost Hemsworth brother and I
know
girls think
they’re
hot.

Tonight I’m wearing a very tight black t-shirt that grips all of my muscles, a comfortable pair of blue jeans, and my black Dr. Martens. The tattoos on my arms are visible and my hair is styled with just a little bit of gel in that way girls tell me is ’just so hot’. Personally, I don’t really care how my hair looks—I’m more than happy to just buzz it off—but the one time I did, I seriously lacked in hookups for two months while it grew back. Who would have thought a guy’s hair would make that much of a difference to girls?

I take a seat at my favorite bar and throw some money in the video poker machine while waiting for the bartender to make his way down here. I love this place; by the time Dave comes down he’s already got my drink in his hand. “Hey, Mike. How’s it going, man? I got your gin and tonic, Bombay Sapphire with limes of course.”

I take the drink and shake his hand. “Thanks, Dave. It’s been a while, how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s great to see you again. By the way, I’m placing my bet now. Judging by your appearance tonight, I give it forty-five minutes before you’re on your way back up with a beautiful girl, so I’m going to keep your drinks coming. I know you like a good buzz before leaving the bar.”

I can’t help but chuckle. “Ah, the all-knowing bartender has placed his bets. You know I’d hate to disappoint you, so how about you pour me a double shot now so I can step up my game.”

Dave gives me a knowing look and pours the shot. “Okay, man, you’re all set. You’re already getting an audience behind you. If I were you, I would hit the girl in red—she’s a regular and used to the no strings thing. You got condoms this time or do you need me to hit the bar stash again?”

Man, he really doesn’t forget a thing.
“Nah, man, I’m good. I brought some this time. Last time, the airport lost my luggage and my condoms along with it; just another reason why I would rather drive.”

“I hear you, just nod at me if you need another. I gotta get back to the other end of the bar.”

Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later three girls walk up and sit next to me at the bar. One of them is stunning in a green low-cut dress. Unfortunately, she looks a little like Katherine and is immediately
not
an option. There’s a cute girl in jeans, Chucks, and a nice button-down shirt. I would
love
to take her upstairs, but she’s shy, and shy girls equals needy girls. I don’t do needy girls; they’re too emotional and make me feel bad when I have to tell them I only want sex. I’m always honest, and it doesn’t always go over well, but I figure they should know the deal up front. The only exception to that was Misty and that’s a mistake that still weighs heavily on my mind. Another one to add to the ‘someday make amends’ pile. That pile seems to be getting excessively large, but there’s no time to think about that right now.

The girl in red is the first one to speak to me. She’s got a throaty, sexy voice and she oozes sex appeal. She definitely isn’t the most attractive of the three, but she’s in no way ugly. Giving her the onceover, I can tell immediately she’s confident, probably well off—judging by the designer ‘come fuck me’ shoes she has on—and she definitely looks up for a good time. This is exactly the kind of girl I can tie up. Her rack is okay but her ass is to die for. Her strawberry-blonde hair is from a bottle for sure and she has big expressive brown eyes. She’s just the kind of distraction I need tonight.

“Hi, I’m Sara. Mind if I sit here next to you or is your girlfriend in the restroom?” Smooth—getting the girlfriend question out of the way in the introduction. Yeah, this girl
definitely
gets around.

“Sure, Sara, have a seat. There’s no girlfriend, just me. Can I buy you and your friends a drink?” The girls giggle, and I flag Dave over to take their orders. “Bill them all to my room, okay, Dave? Whatever these three lovely ladies want is on me tonight.”

“Gotcha, Mike.”

“So, Mike, are you visiting or do you live around here?”

I flash her a smile, showing off my dimples which tends to reel girls in. “I’m here for work but just for the weekend. I decided to come down to the bar and see what kind of trouble I can get myself into tonight.”

Sara’s friends are blushing and giggling, but Sara’s eyes are locked on mine—she’s definitely interested. “Well, I’m
sure
I can get you into all kinds of trouble if you’re interested.”

Nice. She doesn’t beat around the bush. Leaning in real close, I whisper to her, “I don’t play games, Sara. I’m not the kind of guy that will give you my number, and no matter how good you fuck me, that won’t change. What I
will
do is give you multiple orgasms and pay for your cab home if you want to come up to my room and let me fuck you senseless.”

I see a flush creep up her cheeks. She immediately pounds her drink, and turns to her friends, telling them they can leave and she’ll meet up with them later. The girls thank me for the drinks and head off to the slots. When Sara turns my way I can see desire flaming in her eyes.

Dave comes back up and brings me another double shot. “Damn, thirty minutes, where does the time go?” Sara shoots him an odd look, but I just laugh as he walks away. Guess I have fifteen minutes left on the clock.

“Mike, I like that you’re honest, so I’ll be honest as well. Here are the ground rules: I don’t need your number, I don’t even need you to remember my name. In fact, I might call you someone
else’s
name and you’re just going to have to be okay with that because old habits die hard. I don’t do anal, I won’t swallow unless it’s a relationship, and I won’t fuck without condoms. Deal?”

Hell yeah, that’s a deal
and
a huge turn on. I’ve never been with a girl who’s this up front. “Deal, let’s go.” I throw a fifty dollar bill down for Dave and nod my head as he looks at me with admiration in his eyes as I walk off with Sara.