Loving Her: Complete Boxset (Siri's Heart #1-12), page 5
"Always," I reply with the same smirk.
"Smart ass!" Then Everett’s eyes clear and they look directly into mine. "Did you find the motherfucker?"
"Affirmative."
"Dead?"
"Yeah."
"Good!" She looks down at her mangled leg, then at the front seat where Bradford sat.
"Bradford?"
"He’s been escorted back.”
“Good." We stare at each other, knowing the pain of his death will bond us together forever. She opens her mouth to ask. I know she wants the details so I begin telling her before she has too. "The Motherfucker was hiding as a woman."
"Piece of shit!" The venom in her voice is pure.
"Yeah. Hiding with the women and children."
"Are they okay?"
"He killed three boys before I could get my hands on him."
She looks up. "Are you good?"
"Yeah." I smile at her, raise my arms and turn around so she can see, I’m unscathed. "I’m good."
"How did you...."
"Knife," I answer before she can classify the killing, then hold my hand out. "My gun, please, Ma’am."
She stares at my open hand, digesting the information, and realizing I’m not going to share any more details. She quietly lays the weapon in it. I check the safety then return it to its holster and zip it up with the buck knife. "Looks like you’ll be heading home now."
She looks down at her leg. "Yeah. Looks like a one-way ticket out of here." She takes a deep breath, then relaxes, letting the morphine have its way with her. When she looks up at me again, she says. "Easy Mama’s going home to see my Badass Baby Daddy!"
The look on her face makes my breath hang in my throat and my gut tighten. Wow!
She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep and I stand there guarding her. When the medics return with a gurney, I wake her. "Easy. Time to go home." Her eyes flutter and when she focuses on me, she smiles.
I continue standing guard over my friend as they remove her. When she passes me, she raises up on one arm and holds her hand out. I walk over to clasp it.
"Take care of yourself, Easy. Your Badass Baby Daddy is one lucky man."
"Will do, Sir. You too." She grins, then laughs, falling back onto the gurney. "Yes, he is!" I watch for just a moment, then walk away, knowing it’s time to report to my commanding officer.
I hear her yell after me. "Hey, Hard? Don’t stay that way."
I throw my hand up in the air, letting her know I heard her.
"I’m serious, Asshole!" She yells.
That makes me laugh out loud, so I turn to face her but continue walking backwards. "It’s who I am." I grin and double tap my heart with a closed fist. "Hard-Core." Then I spin around and continue walking away.
She laughs and yells again. "Don’t forget hard head."
I sling both arms in the air, spin to face her again and give her a final salute, flipping her off. "Affirmative, it’s a steel trap too. I won’t forget you, Easy Mama."
"You better not!"
"I won’t."
I can’t.
....
....
....
Ten
The shutters in the cabin are lifted one by one and the brightness brings me back to reality. I hear the flight attendant step up beside me and I acknowledge I’m awake by lifting my hand, but I keep my eyes closed, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible before consciousness arrives and the memory blurs. As the vision that haunts me vanishes out of sight, my gut tightens and I wonder.... Easy’s face. Full of undeniable love. It was unadulterated beauty. Will I ever have someone who looks at me that way?
The plane touches down. Fully awake now, I brace myself for the momentum of the brakes. When the plane taxis down the runway, I pinch the bridge of my nose and let the raw emotions that the dream left settle back down. Leaning my head back, pushing them down deep inside, not forgotten, but not harbored, I gain control. They are a part of who I am now. I take a deep cleansing breath. War fucking sucks balls, but Warriors win.
I unbuckle and visit the restroom. When I return, my food has been served. The flight attendant stands by the seat, smiling at me. "Mr. Moore, what would you like to drink? Coffee? Water? Or perhaps something else? We have Crown Royal in the freezer.”
That makes me smile. It’s always nice when your preferred drink of choice is remembered. "I’m good with water. Thank you."
I spend the remainder of the flight to Vegas going over the architect’s plans for the farmhouse in Alabama and making notes on the changes I want. About an hour out, I text Kip to let him know. When the plane touches down, I’m caught up and ready to move forward.
Walking down the steps, I see Kip. He throws his hand up and I wave back.
When I arrive at his car, he shakes my hand and slaps my back in a bro hug. "Aurei, it’s good to see you, brother." He takes my bag and throws it in the trunk.
"Likewise, buddy.”
Kip is not only my real estate agent, but he’s a close friend. When I first began investing in the real estate market in Vegas, he was a fireman dabbling in real estate remodeling on his off days. Kip showed me his first 'fixer-upper' and I negotiated with him to do the work. Since then, he manages my portfolio, buying and flipping fixer-uppers, while his wife manages my rental units.
"Bianca sends her love."
"How’s she doing?"
"Ornery as ever." Kip smiles.
"That’s why you’re still together. She don’t take shit off you."
Kip laughs. "True dat. She’s one tough little bitch."
I laugh. "Does she know you call her that?”
"Hell no! And don’t you go telling her either." He changes the subject. "So, do you want to do the house tour now, or do you want to go to your place first and rest. We’ll head to Been Jammin' around midnight. If Surreal is performing, we don’t want to miss her."
"I’m up for a tour now. I slept on the plane, but I want to be back to the house to see the sunset. I’ll meet you at Been Jammin'."
"Good deal. Let’s start with the latest purchases and we’ll work our way down the list." Kip gives me the rundown as he drives. "This last batch of remodels are almost ready to flip. I think this team of subs is doing a better job than the last one. I have a group of fifteen houses I’m putting together to show to some Japanese investors." We spend the afternoon looking at properties, crisscrossing blocks and suburbs.
When we’ve seen the last one, I ask him as he drives me back to my place. "Have you gone to Been Jammin' before?"
"Yeah. It’s a happening place. Have you been yet?"
"No, I haven’t. Tell me what you know about it."
"It’s the hottest gentlemen’s club in Vegas. I had to call in some favors to get us in tonight."
"Thanks for that. I appreciate it."
"Are you hoping to catch a Surreal Show? 'Cause they don’t announce them ahead of time."
"No. I was wondering if you are familiar with the dancers?”
He cuts his eyes at me and his eyebrows are raised. His voice is cautiously curious. "Somewhat. I’m not the regular I used to be since I hooked up with Bianca. She’s coming tonight, by the way. She insisted." He laughs and mimics her voice, making me laugh. "'You’ll be horny as hell within an hour and no one’s riding that hose but me.' But I know it’s really to see you."
I crack up at that, knowing it’s true and thankful it’s open between us. Kip and Bianca are into BDSM and belong to a private club. She has been determined to get me to join them for a threesome for a long time now, but I ain’t into that.
He chuckles. "She won’t stop you know."
I laugh. "I know, but it ain’t happening."
He laughs now too. "I keep telling her that if you haven’t already caved in to her, you aren’t going to, but she is a pitbull at heart."
I shake my head.
He goes back to my question. "Why do you ask about the dancers at Been Jammin'? Have you been referred to one?"
"Yes. Her name is Seary."
Kip whistles. "Damn man. Nothing like shooting for the Star. Seary’s the headliner there."
"Tell me everything you know about her."
"She’s as hot as her name implies."
I wait, but he doesn’t offer any more information. "That’s all you know?"
"Well. Yeah. She’s the Star. I don’t have the pocketbook to know more than that."
I nod and look out the window, then after a few moments, I ask. "How much does she cost?"
Kip hits the brakes and slows down to a stop at the red light before he answers. He turns in the seat and looks me in the eye. "You’re looking to score with her?"
"Maybe."
He grins, then takes off again. "I wish you luck, bro. I’ve never heard anyone talk about hitting that ho, but I know they do book her." He hits the blinker and pulls up to my house. "Are you sure you don’t want to ride with us?"
"I’m sure. I’ll meet you at the club."
"Ask for Beverly."
"Will do. Thanks for the tour. You’re doing a great job.”
He grins, gives me a head nod and I walk around to the trunk to retrieve my bag. I hoist it out, then slam the trunk, double tap it and he pulls away.”
Eleven
Walking up to my 4,000 plus square foot, 4 bedroom, 4 bath luxury house in the Red Rock Country Club Community in Summerlin, I wonder again why I bought such a big house when there is only me to live in it and part-time at that. I lay my thumb on the keypad at the security gate, then again at the front door and enter the quiet house. Dropping the bag on the marble floor, my footsteps sound as I walk straight out to the backyard to enjoy the magnificent view of the Red Rock sunset. Standing there watching the ball of fire dropping in the sky, I remember why I bought this big house. It has the most spectacular, breathtaking view of the setting sun and I’m grateful again for my good fortune.
The motion sensor exterior security lights illuminate the green carpet of grass as I turn to go back to the house. The pool water has turned green and provides a soft glow on the patio area. I strip, toss my clothes on a bench, take a deep breath, and dive in. Swimming underwater to the opposite side, I enjoy the peaceful silence and the warmth is soothing. Surfacing, I fill my lungs full, toss my head to the side out of habit from my long hair days as a kid, and blow the water running down my face off my lips.
Knowing I have plenty of time, I dive back under the water, but surface to swim on top, letting my hands cut it like a knife as they enter, pulling my muscular frame, gliding effortlessly along, kicking only to keep my balance. At the end, I do a flip and push off to continue swimming nonstop. I end up swimming thirty complete laps, which is almost a half mile and I feel great. Putting my hands on the pool’s edge, I push up out of the water, throw my foot up and stand in the cold air. Goosebumps pop out and I shake like a dog to expel the water, then grab my clothes off the bench and hurry back into the warmth of the house. Racing nothing but my cold nakedness, I run to the foyer to get my bag, tuck it under my arm like a football player, and sprint to the laundry room. The automatic motion sensors turn the lights on in each room as I go and turn them off as I leave. I drop my bag in front of the washing machine and find a towel folded neatly on top along with a pair of gym shorts and a note from Maria, my house sitter.
"Aurelius, I know you didn’t grab a towel from the pool house after your swim. It’s too cold to be running around soaking wet and put these shorts on. It’s also too cold to be running around naked." I smirk. She knows me too well. "Leftovers are in the refrigerator as requested. Let’s do breakfast tomorrow and catch up. Text me when you wake and I’ll come up to start cooking. Oh! And do NOT start laundry. I’ll do it tomorrow. I mean it! Don’t!" I laugh at that and kick the bag to the wall out of the way, dry off with the towel, drape it over my shoulders, don the gym shorts and head to the weight room.
As soon as I enter, I raise my arms in the air and announce to the emptiness. "Pumping iron is good for the raging beast that lives within us." I work my way around the machines and finish in about 4o minutes. When I walk out, my muscles feel swollen and I feel like I can handle anything that comes my way.
Heading into the kitchen, I open the fridge and stick my face inside. Umm. Homemade enchiladas! I mix an after-workout protein shake and take it with me up the stairs to shower. Stepping under the water, I lather and think about my goal for tonight. I simply want to see her dance. If I like what I see, I’ll book her and find out firsthand what her deal is.
I hear Kip’s voice again. She’s as hot as her name implies. You’re looking to score with her? If she comes up with a Fucking Fantasy that impresses me, I might let her work some magic on me. I haven’t fucked anyone outside my studio in Rome for years. Hell, if she comes up with one I haven’t thought of, I might invest myself.
But then I hear Kip again as he so poetically put it. I’ve never heard anyone talk about hitting that ho. Why is that? Kip has eyes and ears all over Vegas. Someone should’ve talked about popping that pussy. The thought that Bart could be scamming his Frat buddy makes me determined to check her out. Darren’s a good guy.
Turning the water off, I step out and decide to skip shaving. I’m on leave. No need to be smooth shaven, but I splash Old Spice after shave on anyway, squirt some mousse in my hair and run my fingers through it to stand my thick blonde hair up. Then I go into the dressing room to choose my clothes for the evening. Pressing the button, the closet doors slide inside the wall until my entire wardrobe is on display. I walk in and pick a dark purple J Crew shirt and dark jeans. I’ll blend in with the shadows and have a better opportunity to watch this dancer work.
Walking back out, I push the button again, and the doors slide closed. Then I push the button below it, and the cabinet doors of the opposite wall slide back and my shoes rise in a stair step display case. I grab the black Converse tennis shoes, hit the button on my way out to close the cabinet and go into the bedroom to actually get dressed. Stepping into my jeans, I am thankful for Albert, my tailor, who customizes my jeans. The soft, distressed, fabric sits snug on my thighs and hugs my ass, but there is plenty of room in the crotch for my balls to dangle. Putting my arms in the shirt sleeves, I realize my biceps are tight in the fabric and when I pull the shirt closed to button it, I feel it hug tight across my back. Hmm. Note to self. Call Albert. I need to be measured again. I’ve gained more muscle mass. I leave the first four buttons undone to accommodate my new size.
Opening the safe, I take enough cash to have a good time at the gaming tables if Seary is a dud and an open limit credit card in case I lose my ass gambling early on. I have no intentions of coming back to a lonely house before the sun rises. I fold the money around the credit card and slide the wad into a money clip, then put it in my front pocket. Slipping into my shoes, I glance at my reflection in the mirror as I stand and I hear "Mister Very Big Man with the very big ass" making me chuckle. True dat.
Trotting down the stairs, I head to the kitchen to heat Maria’s famous enchiladas. While I eat, I catch up on the news, then wash my dishes. Walking across the house to the garage, my mood is light and carefree. I think I’ll drive the Corvette. Sliding behind the wheel, I check the settings and the mirrors, then back out, and drive down to the security gate.
Waiting for it to open, I tune the cars sound system to my playlist and turn it up. The speakers are booming with the bass. Once I’m out on the open road, I push its limits. The car screams down the interstate. I love flying. An hour later, I’m heading back to Vegas and decide to visit Fremont Street.
Twelve
It’s alive with lights, music, sounds and people milling around. Stopping at a red light, I see an Elvis street performer having his picture taken with a tourist, some young girls with only body paint and g-strings on, and two nuns wearing habits that have their enormous, naked tits hanging out. I circle around and at the next red light, I’m enjoying a Michael Jackson impersonator, who is really good, when I hear a TAP, TAP, TAP. I look out the passenger window and see a young girl smiling at me with her tits about to fall out of her dress. I roll the window down and she asks me. "Are you our Uber?”
Really? I’m in a Corvette. It’s a two seater! I laugh out loud and tell her. "No." But she has stood up and is talking to her friend and doesn’t hear me. Her hand is resting on the door in the open window. I lean over so she can hear me. She is giggling with her friend and I realize they are very drunk. I also realize Vegas is not without predators and she is putting them in danger standing on the corner of Fremont Street asking strangers for lifts. I make a command decision, reach over and pop the door open. Without hesitation, the giggling girl pulls it open and plops down in the passenger seat. The interior lights come on and I see 6-inch-high stiletto heels enter the car first, then big thighs, followed by a miniskirt stretch taut like a tent. Her sweater top has a scoop neck and she has it pulled down too low. She doesn’t look at me, but rather prepares to receive her skinny friend. The tiny girl plops down in her lap, tucks her knees up under her chin, then turns back and attempts to close the door.
Their giggles fill the small space.
The traffic light turns green.
The car behind us honks.
The door doesn’t shut.
I lean back over and stick my arm between them. "Here. Let me get that for you." When my hand moves theirs aside and grasps the door handle, both of them stop moving and quit giggling. They watch as I pull the door firmly shut then turn to look at me. I smile and ask. "Where to ladies?"
The curvy one’s jaw literally falls open and the skinny one’s eyes nearly bug out of her thin face, the light dims and they burst into mad giggling again. I check the mirrors and the pedestrians before I pull out, while they whisper.
"Holy fucking hell! What a hottie!"
"His eyes. Did you see his eyes?"
Tapping the gas, I ease away and ask again. "Where to ladies?" I glance over to see they are both staring at me and it makes me laugh.
