THURSDAY: Bold, Rich & Strong (Hookup Café Book 4) Read online

  Not one to mince words, I straight up said that he uses me as an excuse and that we have never ever been intimate and that we never will be—plain and simple. A few of the girls weren’t satisfied with my words and began to call me names and wrongly accused me of more things, besides playing around with Kevin. That was when I excused myself from the table, taking Evie and Vixen with me. However, Vixen said she had enough for the night and skipped out, leaving us to stomp our feet, wave our arms, and shake our curvy moneymakers on the dance floor.

  The rest of the night didn’t go too badly, in fact, it was quite fun hanging out with Evie, until I was queuing up at the valet stand and Deacon showed up. He sauntered right up to me with a sly smile as if he thought I hadn’t noticed him earlier.

  “Slick…” I couldn’t get more than that out of my mouth before he was all over my word—seeming to love it.

  “Oh, you’ve given me a new nickname.”

  “I can’t very well yell Asshole in public or across a room.” I smirked up at him.

  “Face it, I do it for you. You think I’m slick. You like my moves.” I would never tell him I liked the way anything moved on him.

  “No, just the opposite and how dare you put your hands on my body on the dance floor!” I shouldn’t have said that. I was supposed to play it cool like I hadn’t seen him at all. That he hadn’t affected me in anyway, good or bad.

  “We got the beat.” He laughed and continued his verbal assault, “I’d have used a hell of a lot more than that if I could have—namely my cock plunging inside of you.” At that moment I hoped that it was dark enough that he couldn’t see my body’s involuntary shudder and the way he had produced chills to every inch of my skin. Thank God for a padded bra that hid my tightly pebbled nipples.

  “That’s sexual harassment, you can’t talk to me like that either.” I squared my shoulders back and stood my ground.

  He crowded my space, stepping closer. “You don’t work for me, but if you did… I’d take my chances: Eating your pussy with your legs spread eagle on my desk. Fucking you over my desk, on my desk, under my desk. You’d be too exhausted and sated to call Human Resources to file a complaint. In fact, you wouldn’t be complaining at all. I can guarantee that if you’d give me a chance.”

  He had me speechless and my body screaming “fuck yeah” to everything that had just tumbled perfectly crude, crass… and somehow sexy out of his hungry mouth.

  Before I could reprimand him, one of the girls that had attacked me earlier, my so-called friend Regina, stumbled to get in her car.

  “Do you want me to drive you home?” I was quick to come to her assistance even though she was less than nice to me. “You shouldn’t be driving.”

  “You slept with my neighbor, you whore! You’re dead to me!” She slurred her words and I was wondering about the neighbor comment.

  “I never slept with your neighbor… are you talking about something else? A bit confused.” I knew I should just drop it, but I truly was concerned about her driving her car regardless of what she had said to me or about me. “Does Kevin live near you?”

  “No, dumbshit, whore. My college neighbor. He was yours too as you know perfectly well. Your fuck buddy then and now, it seems.” Her still slurred words were loud and obnoxious. “Once a whore, always a whore!”

  “Kevin’s just not into her so he lied.” That was the truth whether people wanted to hear it or not. I was the victim, damn it! And I refused to back down. “Listen Regina, don’t be so quick to point fingers and name call. As I remember, you fucked your best friend’s ex-husband and I also recall, you being called a coke whore while selling drugs out of the back of your father’s dry cleaner biz.” And that is how it is done! I almost wiggled my body and snapped my fingers.

  Regina stumbled at my words and Deacon caught her before she hit the ground. Why the hell did he have to be the knight in shining armor… her knight?!

  Turning away from them, I spoke to the valet. “You shouldn’t give her the keys. You really should call her a hired car, seeing as, you already let two other very drunk girls drive away just now.”

  Deacon’s voice boomed over my shoulder. “Listen to her.” I didn’t want to turn to see him helping Regina as I imagined that she would be in his arms. Then I heard him up next to me. “I’ll take you home.”

  “I haven’t been drinking,” I announced, looking behind him where Regina had been rescued and saw that she was being helped into a car in front of mine being brought up. My turn to leave.

  Deacon blocked my way. “I watched you go up to the bar at least three times for some tall orange drink with full splits of champagne.”

  “Yes, the bartender was covering for me. I didn’t want to be asked why I wasn’t drinking. The splits were full of club soda and the rest was peach and mango juice with a splash of lime juice.” I looked up into his turquoise eyes. “I don’t need you to rescue me, Slick.”

  Not giving up for one second, he reached out towards me and I stepped back. “I still want to take you home even after hearing about your slutty ways… maybe I’ll get lucky.” My back went up straighter.

  “Not hardly, eavesdropper. Those stories weren’t true. Like I said the guy wasn’t into her and he wanted her to leave him alone. I barely know her through the girls that I have known for years. I can’t believe that they took her side but so be it, what can I do? They can believe what they want. Rumors. Pure fucking rumors!” I had finally let it get to me because of him teasing me. Not my style, I took a deep breath and blew it out. “Anyway, I’m out of here, Stalker.”

  “Another pet name for me?” I heard a chuckle in his voice.

  “Yes, you seem to warrant lots of names,” I said, leaving his heated space to walk to the valet waiting patiently. “Oh…” I stopped at my car door. “Goodnight and good luck with that bulge in your pants.”

  “It’s all for you, baby.” His voice boomed and sounded clearly. “You know you like me… want me… I’m bold, rich and strong.” Those were the last words I heard uttered from his sexy mouth as I slipped into my driver’s seat, smiling.

  Chapter Three…

  A few mornings later my smile was gone as Deacon walked up to the counter and ordered a bold, rich and strong cup of coffee with a wink. “How’s my baby doing today?”

  “I would have no idea. You’ll have to be a bit more specific… maybe give me a name for the poor foolish girl that you have caught up in your bullshit.” I had a feeling he meant me, but I wasn’t playing into his game nor did I want him calling me baby. I had already corrected him on numerous occasions. Not that he ever listened to me. Most of the time I just did my best to ignore him—some days were easier than others. For some reason, since seeing him at the club, he was getting under my skin more often.

  “Do people actually tip you with shells?” He lifted a beautiful off-white, channeled, clam shell and examined it with a laugh. “Seriously?!” He placed it on the counter and I fought back a smile directed at its simple beauty. Instead, I focused on his ridicule of the lovely gift that I planned to take home with me and add to my collection.

  “I’d rather have a silver dollar from the ocean than a dirty crumbled up dollar bill to be honest. Money isn’t everything. The gift of a beautiful shell can mean so much more.” My happy tone was fading while my body was independently rejoicing in a completely different way at the smirk Deacon had gracing his gorgeous face. Ugh! I wanted to throw my towel in his face every time he opened his smart mouth.

  “So if I want to get in your pants… your hot, tight… probably wet jeans, all I have to do is give you a few shells?” His turquoise eyes were gleaming and he was right about my jeans being damp as I had soaked panties already thanks to him.

  “You will never find out!” I reached for the shell, put it in the pocket of my apron, and turned away from him to start his coffee.

  “Don’t be so sure… and I can smell your desire for me from here, baby.” he called out as I had his cup under the spout and
I nearly dropped it. I was barely functioning and then he had to ask for one of Marzi’s special orgasm cookies. “I’ll take a sweet orgasm to go with my coffee also.” Damn Marzi for telling him her secret name for her evil treats!

  Stomping over to him waiting at the counter, I placed his bold, rich, and strong coffee to-go cup down along with a bagged cookie. “You’re a pig and I hope you choke on that cookie,” I said in a low voice as not to cause more of a scene than he had already created. I could see a cluster of customers glancing in our direction—not that that was unusual when we went toe-to-toe over his rude banter with me while I filled his order. And I often wondered how he had planned his visits so that there wasn’t a crowd lined up behind him, leaving me no choice but to be focused only on him.

  “That’s not a very nice way to treat your favorite customer,” he said greeting me with a bright, full smile that I’m sure had every female customer in the café swooning. Then he grabbed my wrist and leaned forward so that only I could hear. “If I am to die at your hands, I want it to be while I’m buried deep in your hot little pussy.” His breath on my ear nearly had me collapsing, but then I remembered who was speaking to me and jerked out of his hold.

  How dare he say those words to me and how dare my body scream, “yes, oh God take me right here, right now on this very counter,” when I needed to stand my ground with him. “You are disgusting!” I couldn’t believe I was able to raise my voice, but I did and I even added, “Get the hell out of here! Now!”

  To my surprise he didn’t say a word, he just kept smirking at me while he grabbed his order and backed up all the way to the door before exiting. And when he was out of sight, I heard a few claps and cheers from one of our loyal groups. I seemed to be the favorite barista of the mommy clan. You know, all of the moms that drive sport utility cars—the new station wagon for the modern generation—to drop their kids off. They wear their yoga pants like they’re going to the gym, or they just came from the gym, to the market, bank… to have coffee with other moms. I couldn’t say anything bad about them, they were often my cheering squad.

  “Way to go, Saylor! Telling that asshole off.”

  Then they turned on me and were in support of him, but it was strictly on an objectifying level and I couldn’t truthfully disagree with their opinions.

  “He is an asshole… but oh so hot!”

  “That ass, I’d like to bite it.”

  “And those pecs. Imagine the abs… his lickable abs. Saylor, you should spill hot coffee on him so he has to take his t-shirt off in a hurry.”

  There it was, back to cheering me on… cheering me on to scald a customer strictly for their viewing pleasure.

  “Has anyone checked out the package? Those low-cut sweat pants seem a little baggy in the front.”

  “Maybe you should loan him a pair of your yoga pants?” I couldn’t help myself.

  “Not a bad idea. Let’s pitch in together and get him a secret gift. Tights!”

  “I have a better idea. Saylor dates him and tells us all about it! Cut or not-cut, thick, long… small, short—that could ruin the fantasy.”

  “I have noticed a nice swaying outline as he walks. I don’t think she would be disappointed and… maybe we could get her to film them fucking.”

  “Hello! I am right here, girls! And I am not filming us fucking.” I had to rebut that one. Seriously, they had a habit of talking about me, right to my face, as though I was absent.

  “Ohh… so you are willing to tell but not show… I can live with that.”

  Unreal! My cheering squad was wanting to push me into sex with the beast at my expense—pimping me out.

  I swear people were always fixing me up with the worst guys. Did I have an invisible sign around my neck or words written across my forehead that said I needed help finding a man? Or was there just something about me that screamed I can’t find a man on my own? Whatever it was that made people supposedly come to my dating assistance, they had the worst taste in men or, at least, they didn’t have my flavor in mind when they hooked me up.

  Even my mother was always asking my father if any nice boys were coming into his office that he could set me up with. I think she got that idea after I got my first boyfriend from hitting him with my car. It was an accident that didn’t turn out to be so bad… that is until he was fully healed up. Apparently, his family didn’t have medical insurance and since it was my fault, my father agreed to take care of everything he needed. I had done a good job when I injured his arm which required surgery, several casts, and then a lot of physical therapy. His mother had instructed him to play nice for the duration of his medical needs. Once they were up, so were we, and for the last two years of high school I constantly had stupid boys teasing me—begging me to hit them with my car so they could fuck me too. Yes, while my father treated him medically, I treated him to my virginity. That definitely put my guard up about boys and I did avoid dating until I got into college.

  College was filled with guys that let you know up front that they were only looking for a good time. I always say better to know in the beginning than being crushed when the relationship is one-sided. Knowing the score, I had a bit of fun quietly… discreetly which I believe was the reason people thought I needed to be set up. It even continued beyond college and into my workplace before I was terminated… laid off. There I was able to say no more easily because I could get away with the excuse of I didn’t mix business with pleasure even if it was with a non-employee.

  Once I started at Cafélicious it was a different ballgame, or at least at first. I was the new fresh meat I was told and the offers to date or just mate were plentiful. When my newness died down, I was left alone for a while and then the questions came as customers got to know me. Was there anyone special in my life? Would I like to meet their brother, their sons, and even their ex-boyfriends? Really?! If they didn’t want them, what made them think that I would? Then Deacon started coming around and everyone razzed me about him. He likes you that’s why he tortures you. Did that really make any sense? Apparently, to many it did—especially the mommy clan.

  But I wasn’t buying into their words until I saw him again outside of the café in my neighborhood. It was strange enough when he showed up at the club I went to regularly with my friends—real ones, not the college girls for the attack-Saylor-night. Was he stalking me? Did Vin mention where I hung out after he joined me and a few other girls one night? Surely, no one would tell him where I lived. I truly didn’t need a guy with a puffed up ego to match his puffed up muscular-gym-rat body stalking me.

  And even if he had just happened to be in my neighborhood and saw me walking to the boardwalk, that didn’t mean that he needed to follow me. “You have a nice pace when you run. Your ass looks nice and toned in your running pants.”

  “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?” I turned to walk backwards, probably not a smart thing to do I realized, and stopped.

  “Seriously, I’m doing work around the corner from your condo.” I just looked at him with my head tilted and my hands on my hips. “I promise you. The empty lot where they just broke ground. We’re putting up a three level home. I saw you walking and I wanted to see if it was you for sure. I’d know your ass anywhere so I spoke up.”

  “You mean shouted out for everyone to hear.” I shook my head while he smirked.

  “Hey, I saw guys looking at you. I wanted to let them know I’m interested.”

  “Is that a guy kind of way of peeing on your territory thingy?”

  “I never said anything about peeing on you, but if you’re into that kind of shit, we can discuss it. I do have some hard limits and that’s kind of bordering on one of them.” He raised an eyebrow at me while he grinned.

  “I think you should go back to work and let me go get my run in. I don’t think those jeans would fare well for a jog.” Done saying my peace with him, I turned to walk away, but not before he added a final say in the matter, loudly.

  “Just remember that ass belongs
to me, baby.” I didn’t bother to glare at him—using my middle finger in the air to end our exchange while he shouted, “I know you love me too.”

  Chapter Four…

  A few days later when I set out on a weather-permitting day to ride my bike—instead of jogging—along the Mission Beach boardwalk, I looked twice for my stalker. Nowhere in sight, I was able to exercise my body and mind peacefully, allowing me to think up different computing solutions. Of course, I loved looking at the ocean along with the condos, apartments, and houses too—wishing that one day I would live on the beach rather than the bay. I just needed to perfect my program so that it could work for any kind of business and then word of mouth would bring several clients.

  Pansie’s café was my way of introducing an easy access accounting system that made bookkeeping less time consuming for business owners. When she told her friend, Vivienne, what I was doing for her, she wanted to know if I could adapt a program for her salon. With a bit of investigation and brainstorming with my computer friend, we figured out a program for the beauty salon to try out.

  I was actually excited to go have my blonde locks trimmed and blown dry by Vivienne so I could hear how things were working out. Back from my pleasant morning ride without interruptions or a single male interruption, I popped into the shower and then continued to get ready for work, following my appointment. Parked behind the café, I strolled past to the salon where I was immediately whisked to a shampoo bowl. I loved the delicious smell of the products they used—I needed to make sure I left with some of them. Last time I had bought some that reminded me of an appletini.

  “What is that? Apricots and honey?” I asked, practically licking my lips.