September: Calendar Girl Book 9 Read online

  “Oh, pretty, pretty Mia, I always remember the details of every negotiation.” His head got close, and I could feel his breath against my face.

  I closed my eyes and thought about Wes, about how I was doing this for Ginelle, for my dad, my sister, and to give me time—the one thing that had not been in my favor since I started on this journey nine months ago.

  Blaine’s lips were warm and moist as they touched mine briefly.

  Wes. Forgive me.

  With slow movements, I lifted my hands to Blaine’s waist and stroked up his hard chest. He groaned and nipped at my bottom lip. I returned the gesture by nipping his top and tugging it into the wet heat of my mouth. We always used to play first before getting to the good part. Blaine pushed into me, his cock long and thick against my hip, digging in. One of his hands moved down to my breast, and he squeezed. I opened my mouth to object when he delved in. His tongue wasn’t tentative. No, this was the kiss of a lover who knew when to give and when to take. A familiar dance partner. He moved his hand down to my waist, circled around my bum, and pulled my lower half into his, grinding against me. I couldn’t help it. I moaned. It had been over a month since I’d had any kind of sexual relief, and even though I hated every second, his movements and the way he touched me were powering through my brain into the pleasure center where Wes lived.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t kissing Blaine. I was devouring Wes. I lifted my hands to cup his smooth cheeks, and I licked into my man’s mouth. Tasting, teasing, enjoying the lush, drugging swipes of his tongue against mine. My imagination supplied Weston’s scent, the ocean and man mingling together into a chaos of need and want. I thrust my hips and dipped my tongue, sliding along the surface of his body as if I were a snake coiling around its prey. Wes.

  “God, I missed you, baby,” I said into his mouth.

  He moaned, and ribbons of heat filled my body, setting me aflame. His hands were everywhere, sliding under my dress, gripping my ass. He moved his hips, that hardness pressing perfectly against my O-trigger. I gasped and hiked a leg higher, digging my stiletto into the meaty part of his thigh, forcing him closer.

  My eyes were shut tight as I dry humped my man. Missing his touch, his body.

  “Mia, you’re going to make me come. Let me inside so I can fuck you properly, or I’ll rip your panties off right here.”

  That voice. That was not…“Wes?” I said, opening my eyes and blinking away the lusty haze.

  Blaine moved his head from the trailing kisses he was leaving down my neck. Sweat hit my body in a full-blown panic, moisture beading at my hairline as I took gasping breaths.

  “Who the fuck is Wes?”

  Oh. My. God. I had just rubbed my lady bits all over Blaine against the wall while imagining my boyfriend. My stomach churned while the insides rumbled, getting ready to blow.

  The door next to where we stood opened. Max took in our delicate position, and his nostrils flared. Shock at seeing him there in that moment had to have shown on my face as one of panic.

  “Get away from her!” Max roared and pressed one meaty palm to Blaine’s chest and pushed. Blaine went flying into the wall opposite me.

  Shit. Shit. Shit. I swallowed down the vile response my body had when I realized I was about to fuck Blaine again while daydreaming he was Wes. Jesus, I would have ruined everything. Wes would never have forgiven me. Once more, that soulless pit I called a stomach started to whirl like a cyclone in the ocean.

  “Are you Wes?” Blaine sneered.

  Max’s head snapped back. “Who’s this joker?” His hard gaze hit mine.

  “Um, my ex, uh, Blaine Pintero.”

  Blaine adjusted his suit jacket, flapping it and then buttoning one button at the center. “Mia and I have a history.”

  “I’ll say. You’re about to be history.” Max rushed him, had a hand around his neck in a second flat. For a linebacker of a man, he sure could move fast. “You the cocksucker who’s been threatening her?”

  “Threatening? Is that what we were doing, Mia? I seem to remember you enjoying our little tête-à-tête a moment ago. She was about to go off like a firecracker on the Fourth of July, had you waited another minute.”

  Oh, sweet mother of all things holy. “Blaine, no!” I tried to get the words out but I missed the mark, by a lot.

  Before I could stop Max or say anything to protect Blaine, Max’s tree-trunk-sized arm flung back and his fist connected with Blaine’s jaw. “Listen to me, you little piece of shit. That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

  Max shook Blaine against the wall. His head and body lolled momentarily, but eventually, he blinked a few times before coming back to the present. This was going to be so bad for me. Fuck!

  “You have a brother?” His eyes opened wide and he glanced at me.

  “Uh, yeah. Max, let him go.”

  Max ignored me completely. “If I ever see you touch my sister again, I will hunt you down and skin you alive with a blunt knife!” He raked him up against the wall. Blaine’s head smacked the surface a few times, making a dull thud noise.

  “Fuck, man! Let me go, you side show freak!” Blaine roared, his teeth tinged pink with blood. I could already see the side of his face swelling. Honestly, I didn’t feel that bad about it, especially knowing what he’d done to Ginelle and Pops.

  “Max, really, I’m okay. Blaine and I came to an understanding tonight. I’m fine.”

  “He gonna leave you alone?”

  Blaine huffed and straightened once more as I led Max away from my ex and positioned him in front of our hotel room door. “Uh, you could say that.”

  “I did say that, sugar. What I want to hear is this yo-yo say it.” He growled and his jaw went tight. I held onto his bicep and pushed, trying to get him to go back into the room but I couldn’t move him physically. If he didn’t want to move, it would likely take a Mack truck to make it happen.

  Blaine pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at the blood around his mouth. “No worries, big guy. Mia and I have come to an agreement, if you will. Mia, I’ll leave you with your, uh, brother.” He looked Max up and down with disgust. “Remember, one week.” Then he turned and pushed the elevator button. The doors opened instantly, and in two more seconds, he was gone.

  I sighed and fell against the doorjamb.

  Max ruffled a hand through his hair. “What the hell was that? You were all over the bozo. What about Weston?”

  I groaned and pushed against him to get in the room. He let me by but followed me in. I tossed my purse and went to the mini bar, pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey, uncapped it, and slammed it all back in one harsh shot.

  Max leaned on the edge of the couch. “You’ve had your drink, now talk.” As if to make his point that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, he crossed his arms over one another.

  “Nothing. What you saw wasn’t meant to happen.” I blew a puff of air out over my too-hot forehead and reached for another baby bottle of whiskey. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “That’s a damn good question, darlin’. You see, I was taking care of some business back home, making sure everything was ready for my boy’s arrival when I got a frantic call from our baby sister. She went on and on about you being spooked hard enough to worry her. Says she’s never seen you that upset. Being the big brother, and the only one who’s got your back right now since your man is missing, I high-tailed it back. Got the plane at the ready when I need to.”

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You need to be with Cyndi and Isabel waiting for that baby to come. They need you.” With feet that felt as though they were weighed down by a pair of snow skis, I made my way to the couch and plopped down.

  “And they’ll have me. Just as soon as I get a read on what’s going on with you. Maddy tells me something is up and she knows it’s not good. Why didn’t you call me, Mia?” His voice was tired, filled with that gravelly tone I’d begun to appreciate. The volume and timbre said, “I’m a man who cares about you, loves you, and will do anythi
ng to protect you.” I needed that in my life. Especially now.

  “Ginelle was kidnapped by Blaine’s goons. They roughed her up as a way to get to me.”

  “Why? I thought all of this was working out. You told me it was fine last month. That you had a handle on it.” His voice was accusatory, and it sent a knife right into my heart.

  Anger rippled along every nerve in my body, and I stood up and paced, needing to get this shit out. “It was fine!” I yelled. “And then Pops got worse. I didn’t make it to my client this month.”

  “So?”

  “So! In my contract, if a man books me for a month and I flake on him, I owe him the hundred thousand!”

  “Jesus H. Christ, Mia!” His voice was as upset as mine even though it wasn’t his ass on the line.

  I had been dealing with this shit all by myself and doing just fine with it. “Then, because Millie had to pay the client the money you paid me, I missed my payment to Blaine. Next month, I’ll work for the entire month before I can send a payment. So I’m behind. And he’s proving that he can get to me any way he wants.” Tears filled my eyes and poured down my cheeks. “This is all so fucked up!” I flopped down onto the chair.

  Max came and sat down in front of it on the coffee table. The wood creaked against his massive weight. “What do you owe?”

  I blinked, letting more tears fall. “Right now, two hundred large.”

  His eyebrows narrowed. “That’s all?”

  I shook my head. “No, I owe the two hundred right this second. For August and September.”

  “Darlin’, how much do you owe period?” His voice was now soft, tinged with worry.

  My shoulders slumped as if I’d carried the money in solid gold bricks directly on my shoulders. ”Four hundred.” I answered.

  “And what type of agreement did you come to?”

  Licking my lips, I sniffed, took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes, the same orbs that mirrored my own. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Sugar, I already don’t like it. Just tell me.”

  Clutching his hands, the tears flowed again, slipping down my face. “Either I can pay him the four hundred or….” I swallowed repeatedly, trying to push that giant ball of ugly down my throat so I could speak, admit the truth of what I’d considered doing but knew I couldn’t.

  “Or…?” Max’s eyes were so kind, his mouth tipped into a little frown.

  “Me. A night in his bed.”

  Max leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. “Darlin’, that’s going to happen over my dead body.” He was firm and unbending, one hundred percent serious.

  I snorted at the sick, twisted thought that ran through my head. What Max didn’t know was that Blaine was the exact type of man who would make that happen without so much as a fleck of remorse.

  My phone rang and buzzed against my thigh. I’d been carrying it around nonstop, never allowing it more than a foot from my presence in case there was news about Wes.

  I looked down at the display. Sweet Jesus. Ginelle.

  “Hello, Gin?” I answered, desperate to hear her voice, make sure she was okay. Blaine had promised that she would be let go and home within the hour.

  “I’m home,” was her single reply before the line disconnected.

  Chapter Seven

  Taxi drivers in Las Vegas rock! Toss them a hundred dollar bill and they will easily break every traffic law in the books. Knowing my best friend was home, had been kidnapped, roughed up, and released in the span of a day had me out of my mind with worry. Every nerve ending was sparking like an exposed live wire ready to zap anyone that touched it.

  When the driver stopped at her apartment’s curb, I tossed a handful of twenties I kept as my emergency money, including the hundred I’d already promised him, and dashed out of the car and up the steps to her door.

  Instead of banging on the door as if my life depended on it like I wanted to, I pulled out my surfboard key ring that held all of five keys. One to Wes’s house, Pops’s place, Maddy’s apartment, Suzi, my motorcycle, and Ginelle’s apartment. Five metal reminders of the people that meant the most to me in the entire world, though I had a horde of new friends that were coming in as close seconds.

  Slipping the key into the lock, I opened the door and tiptoed in quietly. The lamp on the side table by the couch was on, but no sound could be heard throughout the space. I walked past her giant burgundy couch, one that was far too big for the space but was also the most comfortable piece of future in the universe. When I sat on its puffy goodness, it formed to my thighs, my back, and cradled my body in a welcoming hug. Yep, best ever.

  The kitchen and hallway were both dark, devoid of life. I walked slowly down the corridor leading to the two bedrooms. Gin always kept one room as a guest room. She said she wanted to make sure I always had a place to stay wherever she lived. That’s just the type of best friend she is. The light to her room was on. I tapped on the door.

  “Gin, it’s Mia,” I said.

  “Go away,” I heard her mumble through a whimper.

  I pushed open the door. She was huddled in the corner of her room, still in her tattered work attire. Dried blood was crusted around her nose and mouth and along her neck where it had trickled down. The pink sequins sparkled in the bright light. She had the overhead light on, the lights on both end tables and the bathroom light shining in the room. The place was lit like the Disneyland Parade, so bright it blinded you to have your eyes open all the way. Squinting, I shuffled slowly over to her and crouched down. Her body shook like a leaf in the wind. I placed a hand on her knee and she jolted back, her teeth chattering. Tears ran down her face in rivulets, leaving black, sticky smudges of mascara and makeup to mix in with the dirty grit on her face. Her cheek was swollen, her eye turning an ugly shade of purple, and her lip looked like it might need stitching.

  A rage I’d never known swept over my entire being. It was so hot I worried I’d scald my best friend with a single touch. Knowing she needed me, I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth, grinding so hard I could hear the grating noise from the inside. Looking at her petite body, torn, battered, worse for the wear, had my blood boiling. Taking deep breaths, I took her hands in mine.

  “Come on, honey. I’m going to take care of you.”

  Ginelle shook her head jerkily. “No, you have to g-go. If they come b-back, they’ll take you for s-sure. He said, he s-said he was going to m-make you his, Mia. They want you b-bad.” Her hands clutched my biceps so hard I knew finger-shaped bruises would be there by morning. “This time he w-won’t s-stop until he h-has y-you,” she sputtered through her chattering teeth, her eyes a wild shade of cornflower blue. The girl was frightened out of her mind, and I hated that it was my fault. They’d hurt my best friend because of me. Thank God she was okay. I’d make sure she stayed that way.

  I tugged her body into my arms. After a second, the tears turned into sobs, which turned into all-over body heaving as she cried. For twenty minutes, I let her get it out, exorcise the demons of what happened to her. It would never go away. For a long time, she’d probably be looking over her shoulder as well as double and triple-checking the locks on her doors. It was very possible she’d end up needing counseling to get past it. Whatever Gin needed, I’d get it for her. Somehow, some way.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s get you cleaned up.” I petted her hair and her back in long soothing strokes.

  She nodded and allowed me to help her stand. When I caught sight of her attire, I almost lost my shit all over again. The front was slit all the way to her belly button, her breasts barely covered by the flimsy fabric. There were new slits cut near each thigh as if the fucker were trying to get a good look at her nether regions. I turned her around and walked her into the bathroom. I bit my tongue so hard I tasted blood, trying not to scream, yell, and destroy everything in my wake, until I’d found the bastards and put them in a hole six feet under with my bare hands.

  Turning on the water for the shower, I helped her out
of her clothes. She immediately covered her breasts even though I’d seen them a million times. Gin was not shy, and neither was I. We’d known each other our entire lives, but if the modesty helped her, I wouldn’t say anything. Making sure the water was okay, I pulled off my T-shirt and pushed off my pants, leaving my bra and panties on. Then I maneuvered us both into the shower.

  With extreme effort, I worked around the various bruises, cuts, and scrapes I found all over her, wishing we could press charges, but knowing Blaine and how many men at the local PD he had in his pocket, the effort would be useless. The bastard would laugh in our faces. I squirted copious amounts of her body wash onto the buff puff and instructed her like a child to hold out one arm and then the next, lift a foot and then the next. I put more soap on the loofa and handed it to her. “Clean your front and hoo-hah, Gin.”

  She nodded and methodically did what I’d asked as if she were a drone just following orders. Getting some shampoo, I washed her long blond hair, rubbing her scalp slowly, hopefully massaging out some of the tension. When I got to the back of her neck she sighed, and finally her stiff shoulders loosened and dropped down. Point one for Mia!

  I repeated the process with the conditioner, making sure to move with intent, never touching the rest of her body. As children and teens we’d taken showers together a hundred times, but after today, I wanted her to be confident that she was being loved, not taken advantage of. That I respected her space and would be here in any way she needed me. This woman was, for all intents and purposes, my sister, and I loved her more than life itself. Had I been able to take what happened away in exchange for me being the one they’d taken, I would have gladly volunteered to save her even an ounce of pain.

  “Honey, very lightly wash your face with this, okay?” I handed her the facial soap. She rubbed her hands over the bar as if warming them. I took the bar, and she closed her hands and did as she was told. Each time she got near her lip, cheek, and eye, she’d wince and gasp in pain. Every sound was like another nail in Blaine’s coffin. I wanted him to pay for what he’d done to Ginelle. Fuck, I wanted him to bleed for what he’d done to my father as well as my best friend. Taking Ginelle to prove a point tonight had gone too far. I had to figure something out. We couldn’t live in fear like this. Worried that every time someone I loved left his home or work he’d be scooped up by one of Blaine’s goons and tortured just to fuck with my head.