Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2) (10 page)

BOOK: Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2)
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-Text from Tasha to Annie

Annie

“Did you make him think you were stupid in the ways of a gun?” Lenore asked leaning forward.

I had to smile at the way she was standing.

She was leaning against her glass display case where she’d just been stocking her new dildo collection, and with the new position, it looked like she was holding a bouquet of dildos to her chest like the most prized possession.

“Yes,” I laughed, pulling my phone out of my pocket and snapping a picture of her. “I did. And he gave me a big old long lecture about gun control and how stupid accidents occur with people who don’t know their tits from their hands.”

Well, he’d been more tactful than that, but I knew for certain that he wanted to say more than he had.

Griffin, who’d been lazing in a sex swing of all things, snorted.

“I can’t believe he was fooled by your act. It won’t take him long before he figures it all out. And he won’t be happy,” Griffin drawled.

I shrugged.

That wouldn’t be my fault.

“Then what happened?” She asked.

I blushed, looking covertly at Griffin.

I shouldn’t have, because he saw the glance, and grinned huge.

“Well?” He teased.

I blushed harder.

Leaning forward so hopefully only Lenore could hear me, I said, “I masturbated with that dildo I got from you yesterday.”

Griffin burst out laughing.

“And let me guess, he heard you?” Griffin guffawed.

I glared at the bastard.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” I snapped.

He held up his hands. “I’m babysitter today.”

Ahh, that made sense.

I was still being watched, and he was just making it easier on himself by being in here with his wife and me instead of outside on his bike like the rest of them did.

I’d just opened my mouth to reply to that comment when I saw a police cruiser pull up to the curb and stop in front of my building.

I froze, watching as two cops got out of the car and walked up to my front door and tapped on the glass.

Griffin got up, his face suddenly void of all emotion, and walked to the front door.

When I made to follow, he held up his hand and stayed my forward progress.

“Let me talk to them first, please,” he rumbled, pushing through the door and calling out to the officers.

I couldn’t tell what was being said, but I was enraptured as Griffin’s face flashed from neutral to anger in less than ten seconds as he listened to the cops talk.

Griffin crossed his arms.

“Uh-oh. When he does that, he’s putting his foot down about something,” Lenore said.

I nervously picked up the first thing I found, nervously squeezing the squishy plastic in my hand while I watched the hub bub outside.

We both moved closer to the glass, watching as the officers spoke animatedly with Griffin.

They’d been going back and forth for maybe five minutes when the loud rumble of a Harley blasted down the street.

“Ten bucks says it’s Mig,” Lenore teased.

I wouldn’t take that bet.

I knew it was Mig.

Just like I knew that this…whatever
this
was…was going to be bad.

Especially if it got Mig hauling ass so loud that I could hear him from the time he got off the main drag in Uncertain.

“Shit,” I said, watching as Mig screeched to a halt beside the cop’s car.

“Uh-oh,” Lenore parroted. “He looks worn and ragged.”

He did.

His eyes had dark smudges under them, and I wondered how long he’d been out in front of my shop before he’d left.

Probably all night.

Mig didn’t waste time talking to the cops.

Instead, he passed the commotion, letting Griffin deal with it, while he walked straight into Lenore’s shop like he owned the place.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, not saying a word to Lenore.

Lenore watched Mig walk up to me, then snickered when Mig grabbed my arm and took me to the back room.

The squishy thing in my hand was probably ruined as I squeezed it to death out of sheer nervousness.

“Mig,” I started hesitantly.

He slammed the back room’s door closed, and then turned to me, studying my face.

“Your ex died last night,” he said softly.

My brows rose.

“Really?” I asked.

I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t freaking out.

I mean, I was married to Ross for two years before our divorce was finalized.

But I couldn’t find it in me to be surprised or even upset.

Sure, it was sad, but Ross’ death seemed like it’d happened long ago to me, rather than just last night.

“Yeah,” Mig confirmed.

“How?” I asked.

I really should be freaking out.

“I sent Casten on the hunt for him after you brought the purses to my attention. He found him the night before last and finally confronted him,” Mig said, leaning his back against the counter. “Ross got spooked, scared he would lose the good thing he had going, and he went to the supplier that was giving him the drugs to sell. The supplier felt that he was a loose end that needed tying up, so he shot him twice in the chest at the state park.”

I blinked.

“He was dealing drugs with my purses?” I gasped.

I mean, I’d thought he was doing something bad, but it was more like I thought he was just stealing them from people and then selling those to the drug dealers. But no, not Ross.

When he fucked up, he fucked up royally.

No easing into the waters for him.

He was more of a cannon ball type of person.

Then a thought occurred to me.

“How do you know all of this?” I asked carefully.

Mig grimaced, lacing his hands over the top of his head and hunching in slightly on himself.

“To explain this to you, I have to tell you why, exactly, I started putting guards on you in the first place,” he said slowly.

My brows rose to my hairline.

“You mean, I’m mature enough to know important facts about things that directly involve me?” I said facetiously
. “That’s interesting.”

He gave me a droll look.

“Do you remember the note you were clutching the night you got hurt?” He asked.

My eyes narrowed, and I thought back to the night I’d been knocked out with the piece of wood.

“No,” I hesitated. “I don’t remember a note at all, why?”

He pulled out his phone, and started pressing buttons on the screen before he turned it around and showed me.

I admired what had to be Mig’s new phone before the note on the screen stole my attention.

I read the note, my eyes widening.

“Holy shit!” I gasped. “So how does that note connect to Ross?”

“There was a note with Ross’ body.
It said three words: Your fault, too
,” Mig explained tiredly. “The handwriting on this note matches the one that you were holding on to that night. They’re identical.”

I pursed my lips.

“And do you know who the man is that wrote the note?” I asked, intrigued.

Mig nodded.

“Liam Cornell.”

The world dropped out from under my feet.

I placed my hand over my mouth, but the words were out before I could stop them.

“I told you so!”

I was mature like that.

Mig’s grin flashed.

“Yeah, you did, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“So how do you know for sure that that was him?” I asked.

“I didn’t piss anyone else off lately,” he said dryly.

I pursed my lips.

“So what are we going to do now?” I asked.

“We aren’t going to do anything. I’m going to take him down with whatever means possible,” he countered.

I snorted.

“So this was why you refused to see me anymore?” I asked bluntly.

He frowned.

“I told you last night…you might not remember…” he started.

I held up my hand. “Oh, I remember everything.”

He raised his brows at me as if to say, ‘
well why’d you ask
?’ And I laughed.

“That’s no reason to stop seeing someone. Seems we’d be better off together rather than separate.”

He raised his brow at me, and I suddenly became very aware that we were alone in a room.

And I had a freakin’ dildo in my hand, and I was shaking it as I scolded him.

“You can put the weapon down,” he held up his hands.

I snorted, tossing it at him.

Which he caught.

Easily.

He examined the dildo in his hand, then looked back at me with amusement.

“It’s not mine,” I said.

He grinned.

“What kind were you using last night? Do you know that I have your apartment wired? I heard every single moan,” he moved closer.
“Every single sigh.” Closer still
. “And every single time you called my name.”

By the time he was finished, he had me backed up against the door.

His lower body pinned mine to the door, and I bit my lip as I felt every single inch of him.

Steel hard.

Primed.

Ready.

And that was only his cock.

The rest of him was just as hard, and my hands went up to grip onto his shoulders as I stared into his soulful eyes.

“You’re sure you want me? Want this?” He asked, pressing into me.

I swallowed thickly.

I nodded, so very sure that I wasn’t hesitant at all.

Not even a little bit.

Then his mouth was on mine.

He ravaged me with only his lips against mine.

It was me who gasped, and my eyes nearly crossed when he swept his tongue inside…stealing away every thought with one single kiss.

He growled into my mouth, leaning down slightly to pick me up.

My legs wrapped around his waist, and I thanked God and every single person that had had a hand in the dress I was wearing. The seamstress, the person that picked the cotton. The fucking plastic model at the store that modeled it so well that I was enticed to buy it.

His rough palmed hand slid up the outside of my thigh, coming to a rest at the curve of my ass.

The other one framed my chin and part of my throat, holding me still for the taking.

His cock, that glorious cock, started to slowly grind into me.

And I gasped into his mouth, stealing the breath from his lungs.

“God,” I breathed.

He continued to kiss me, and I could feel my excitement slickening my pussy.

“Oh, my God,” I groaned when his mouth left mine, traveling down the length of my throat to come to a stop at my collarbone.

There, he sucked the skin into his mouth, making my eyes cross as I started to really grind down on his cock as much as I could, since the door was at my back.

And then suddenly, this wasn’t a kiss any longer.

Any semblance of control flew out the window.

We didn’t care that this wasn’t the back room of my salon.

We didn’t care that the cops were outside wanting to question me about my whereabouts last night.

We didn’t care about anything but us.

This.

Now.

Hands started to move, my panties were ripped off of me, then his zipper was lowered.

I bit my lip, watching Mig as he pulled his cock through the opening in his jeans.

Not an easy task.

Especially considering that his cock was not on the small side.

In fact, on a scale from small to enormous, Mig’s cock was more on the huge size of large.

It looked angry as it pulsed with each beat of his heart, and I bit my lip, looking into his eyes only to see his trained on me.

“You’re sure? I won’t give you back after this,” he growled.

“Who would you give me back to?” I breathed, moving my hand down to grip his cock. “And even if there was someone, I wouldn’t go back. I’ve been yours since you moved here.”

I used my thighs to lift my hips and placed him at my entrance.

He froze at the mention of me being his since I first saw him.

But I didn’t give him time to ask questions; instead, I lined my entrance up with the head of his cock, then sank down onto him.

He helped, of course, lifting me up, then pushing me down.

My pussy stretched, then stretched some more.

My head flew back.

My eyes closed.

And suddenly, with a huge push and jerk, he filled me completely.

I squeaked into his shoulder, biting down with my teeth onto the cord of his neck.

He growled, circling his hips.

Panting, I joined into his rhythm.

What started out as an innocent kiss quickly turned into something very hot and very heavy.

I’d never experienced passion quite like this before.

I wasn’t a virgin.

Not even close.

I’d been with five men in my lifetime, but none of them were Mig.

None of them had his skill.

His cock.

His sheer sex appeal.

Add my undeniable attraction to him—and hopefully his for me—and we had something so powerful,
so
intense
, I hoped neither of us would be able to go back.

I certainly wouldn’t

Not willingly, at least.

If I had my way, Mig and his perfect cock would be mine…forever.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered into my hair.

I finally let go of his skin, no longer able to hold on when he pulled all the way out, then thrust so hard back inside that my head hit the door.

My back was pushing into the door with such force that a creaking noise was coming from the strained wood with each pump of his hips.

I was panting like I had just ran five miles at top speed while being chased, but at least I wasn’t sweating like he was.

This sex between us was real…
raw
.

It wasn’t pretty.

It was powerful and life altering.

With each thrust of his cock, he’d hit the back of me, and I swore, it felt like a thousand tiny sparks were skipping down my spine.

I was close, and he could tell.

When he wanted my eyes, he moved his hand that’d been helping support my lower half, and cupped my chin and part of my cheek, holding me captive as he watched my eyes.

BOOK: Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2)
12.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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