Copyright © 2023 by Abbi Glines

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.abbiglinesbooks.com

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  Editor: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Formatting: Melissa Stevens, The Illustrated Author, www.theillustratedauthor.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  I One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  II Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Smokin’ Hot Teaser... One

  Acknowledgments

  I

  Be worthy love, and love will come.

  —Louisa May Alcott

  One

  Aspen

  Blinking, I sat up as the roar of motorcycles grew louder. The light from the television was all that lit the darkened living room. I reached for my cell phone to check the time. It was after two in the morning. Irish, my older sister, wouldn’t be home from work for another two hours. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa, watching Dawson’s Creek, but since Irish had introduced me to it, I had gotten addicted. Television was something I hadn’t realized was missing from my life.

  Stretching, I stood and picked up the remote to turn it off, wondering if Gran had ever watched anything on a screen a day in her life. She had believed it was evil, so probably not. It made me sad to think of all Gran hadn’t experienced in life. Death came for all of us at some point, and I wanted to soak in every adventure I could until that day came. Irish lived her life that way. Although Gran had died thinking Irish was headed straight for hell, I disagreed. I believed Irish was making sure not to waste a moment. God had to respect that.

  A knock on the door startled me, and I stared at the door, unsure of what to do. Who would be knocking at this time? Irish hadn’t told me to expect anyone.

  Quietly, I walked over to the window beside the door and peeked out. There were two motorcycles in the driveway. A man was on one of the bikes, but the other one sat empty. I shifted the curtain to see if I could get a glimpse of who was at the door. Black leather jacket and light-brown hair, pulled back in a man bun, were all I could see. It was intriguing. Very Sons of Anarchy. Another binge-watch Irish had put me on since I’d moved in here with her.

  Irish had interesting men in her life. Living vicariously through her stories was what had gotten me through some of my darker times. Being the sickly younger sister had caused me to miss out on a normal high school life. There had been no going off to college and frat parties for me either.

  Unable to help my curiosity, I moved to the door and unlocked it, then opened it to face the man on the other side.

  With the porch light illuminating his face, I sucked in a breath. Hazel eyes stared at me under thick, dark lashes. He had a short beard, just enough to be sexy, and lips that made me want to stare at them. It was tempting to reach out and touch them.

  “You’re definitely not Kitty,” he drawled in a deep voice that made me shiver.

  Kitty was my sister’s stage name.

  I shook my head as I soaked in the sight of the man in front of me. “She’s at work,” I replied softly.

  He raised an arm and leaned on the doorframe as his eyes raked down my body with what I thought was approval. I had very little experience with men, except for the romance novels I read—and I didn’t think those were very accurate. According to Irish, real men were nothing like the ones in books. Although he sure looked like one of the guys in the books I read.

  “I’m gonna need a name, darling,” he said as his eyes locked back on mine.

  My face felt warm, and I knew I was blushing. Sure, I’d had boys flirt with me before, but they weren’t like this. This was not a boy.

  “Aspen,” I told him.

  He reached out and took a strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger before letting it fall back to my shoulder. “Please tell me this is natural,” he said huskily.

  I swallowed hard. “Uh, my hair?” I asked, confused.

  He smirked. “Yes.”

  I laughed nervously then. “Since birth.”

  “Tell me how a sweet thing like you ended up at Kitty’s.”

  “She’s my sister,” I told him.

  I left out that Kitty wouldn’t let me live alone any longer. I had tried it after Gran passed away two months ago. When I ended up in the hospital, Irish had moved me into her house.

  He leaned closer to me, and I hoped that the funny way my heart was feeling was safe.

  “You planning on working at Devil’s? Because if you are, I need your schedule.”

  Devil’s Lair was the strip club my sister worked at.

  I was probably the color of my auburn hair. My fair skin hid nothing.

  I shook my head. “No, I’m, uh, not a dancer.”

  “I think that breaks my heart.” He reached out and ran the pad of his thumb along my jaw. “This might be the prettiest fucking face I’ve ever seen.”

  It felt like fate was making up for all the things I’d missed in life with this one singular encounter.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “LEVI!” a male voice called out. “We staying or not?”

  He looked back over his shoulder. “Give me a minute,” he shouted.

  Levi. I liked that name. It fit him.

  “Two questions,” he said, turning back to me. “How old are you, Aspen?”

  “Twenty.”

  A wicked grin touched his lips. “Legal. That just made my night. I need your number, sweetheart.”

  My stomach felt as if a flight of butterflies had been let loose.

  “My phone number?” I asked, thinking I was misunderstanding him.

  He ran his knuckles down my bare arm. “Please.”

  Okay, think. This man was here to see my sister. Did I give him my number? What if she liked him? God, who was I kidding? She had to like him. Any woman alive would like him.

  I bit my lip hard, then let it go. “You came here to see Iri—Kitty,” I said. “I can’t—I mean, I don’t think it would be right for me to give you my number.”

  He winced. “Fuck, baby. That’s painful.” His knuckles ran back up my arm. “I can talk to Kitty. She’d understand. We just had some fun. No attachments.”

  I knew all about my sister’s fun. Irish didn’t do relationships. She was a free spirit. I envied her as much as I loved her.

  “Have you, uh … I mean, you have slept with her before.”

  His knuckles went back down my arm. “No, sweetheart, we never slept.”

  The gleam in his eyes made me shiver. I was aware they hadn’t slept, and he knew that wasn’t what I’d meant. Just like I knew I’d never feel right about giving him my number.

  “I can’t do that to her. I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  He winced. With the hand he’d been caressing me with, he took my hand and brought it to his lips as his eyes stayed locked with mine. “You broke my heart,” he said.

  “LEVI!” the other man called out.

  He sighed and let my hand go, then dropped his other arm from the door and stepped back. “Lock up tight. And, Aspen, don’t open the door for a stranger again. Promise me that.”

  I nodded my head, and he winked at me before turning to walk away. Unable to help myself, I watched him as he made his way back to his motorcycle. Closing the door before he turned and caught me, I let out a loud sigh. That man was going to star in my fantasies for a very long time.

  I locked up and glanced out the window as the motorcycles drove off. Irish had the best life.

  I had begged her to let me go back to Gran’s house when I got out of the hospital. She had refused and informed me all my things had been moved here. I knew she blamed herself for letting me live there alone after Gran passed away, but truthfully, it had been my fault. The moment I had started feeling bad, I should have gone to the doctor. I knew better. The result had been pneumonia, and with my heart condition, that’d meant
hospitalization.

  Irish’s life was one I could never experience, but being on the sidelines and watching it would be more fun than I’d ever had. Especially if men like that one showed up at the door.

  Smiling, I went upstairs to brush my teeth and get into bed.

  Two

  Levi

  Picking up my glass, I took a drink while watching the current dancer onstage. She was one of Kye’s favorites and the reason he had wanted to come tonight. The guy had a thing for big tits, and although those were a bought set, he liked them. I swore he could spend for-fucking-ever sucking on a pair. I was starting to think he’d been nursed too damn long as a child.

  “Pour Some Sugar on Me” began pumping through the club as Kye made his way over to catch his new favorite stripper as she left the stage. I was still trying to decide if I wanted to take one of the girls back to a private room to spank her ass with my belt or get my dick sucked. Possibly both. As I scanned the options, my gaze found Kitty making her way to me.

  I took another drink and watched as she sauntered up to my table in nothing but her rhinestone-studded thong and matching platform heels. I smirked, already knowing this was going nowhere tonight. But I did have some interest in talking to Kitty. My thoughts were already on those cat-shaped green eyes, her pale and creamy skin, and those full pink lips, which had parted as she tilted her head back, looking up at me with curiosity.

  “You look lonely,” Kitty said, leaning her hip against the table. “No one has your eye?”

  I swirled the amber liquid around my glass and smirked. “Yeah, someone has it. Met her last night.”

  Kitty raised her eyebrows in question. “I didn’t see you here last night. I thought you were gone on business.”

  I nodded. “Got in last night. Went looking for someone, but instead found a pretty little thing that I can’t get out of my head.”

  She narrowed her eyes and leaned down toward me. Making sure her tits were on full display. I lowered my eyes to take in the view before looking back at her.

  “You trying to make me jealous, Levi? That’s not like you at all.”

  I had no desire to make Kitty or anyone jealous. If they were jealous, they were attached. I didn’t do attachments or play games. I fucked.

  “You know me better than that, sugar,” I replied, reaching out to pinch her nipple.

  Her tongue darted out and licked her red-stained lips. “What is it you want?” she purred, arching her back so that her tits were close to my face.

  “What I want is”—I rolled the hardened nub between my finger and thumb—“the hot little redhead you got tucked away in your house.”

  I didn’t care for surprises. Not really. However, the immediate morph in Kitty’s personality was interesting. The always ready to please me sexy brunette jerked back from me. The heated glare directed at me wasn’t one of jealousy, like I had first expected. It was fear and fury, fighting together, while her body went rigid.

  “Why were you at my house?” she spit out.

  I shrugged and took a drink, highly entertained by this interaction. “Looking for you. But that’s not who opened the door.”

  “Fuck! I told her not to open the damn door,” she muttered, looking so wound up that I wondered if she might leave. “Stay away from her, Levi. She’s a kid. Completely sheltered. She … she can’t handle you. Wouldn’t know what to do with you. Just stay away! Do you understand me?!” There was a tremble in her voice.

  She was terrified. Why was Kitty scared of me? Hell, she liked getting her ass beat and begged for me to fuck her harder. Then, Kye was always there to do all that sweet, loving shit he did after I was done.

  “I’m hurt, Kitty,” I said, tilting my head to study her. “When have I ever done something to you that you didn’t beg for? Why all this alarm because I met that sweet little sister of yours? And, sure, twenty is young, but, baby, it’s legal. She’s not a kid.”

  That body was a fucking woman’s body. One with all the right curves.

  Kitty’s hands fisted at her sides, and I was guessing those sharp-ass nails would cause her palms to bleed. So much unnecessary drama.

  “She might as well be a child. She’s sheltered, and she is not for you. She doesn’t even date. She wouldn’t know what the fuck to do with you. Stay away from my house, Levi.”

  The determined gleam in her eyes was brave. She knew what I was, yet for her sister, she was willing to tell me no. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to laugh or be impressed. Who knew Kitty had this protective mother hen streak in her? I wouldn’t have fucking guessed it.

  Unable to help myself, I grinned. “Teaching her what to do with me would be the best fucking part.”

  Kitty inhaled sharply and closed her eyes tightly, as if trying to calm down. When she opened her eyes back up, she looked at me with no fear. “She’s innocent, naive, and wholesome. I don’t want her in this world, Levi. Please.” She was pleading now. “Not her, okay? Anyone but her.”

  Well, damn. Kitty had fucking earned my respect tonight. I didn’t want an innocent, wholesome female. That wasn’t my shit. I wanted them to understand my kinks and fulfill them.

  I set my drink down and pointed at the young blonde who had been onstage earlier. She was new.

  “Send her over, Kitty.”

  She glanced at the girl, then back at me. I could see her need for me to assure her I would leave Aspen alone. Typically, I didn’t give a fuck what a bitch wanted me to do, but tonight, Kitty had shown me there was more to her. I could respect someone who fought for their family.

  “I don’t want an innocent, Kitty. You know that. She’s safe from me.”

  The relief on her face as her shoulders slumped and she took a long, deep breath really was a little over the fucking top. Her sister might be naive, but I doubted that hot piece of ass was a virgin. She couldn’t be completely innocent. Boys had to have been banging her door down in high school.

  “Thank you,” she said finally. “I’ll go get Cookie for you.”

  I nodded once and watched her walk away. Maybe Kitty wanted her to have more than this. The education, husband, suburban house, the soccer-playing kids. Boring shit. Poor Aspen. This life was more exciting.

  My phone buzzed, and I looked down at it.

  Blaise: Fucker is underground. Hung up for now. Get Kye and meet us there in two hours.

  I read the text and grinned.

  Blaise Hughes was the next boss of the family—aka the Mafia south of the Mason-Dixon Line. We’d grown up in this twisted life together. Our families had been intertwined for a hundred years. My great-great-great-grandfather was the first boss’s best friend. They’d started this with horse racing, moonshine, and illegal arms, not knowing the empire it would one day become. Or the power the family would wield.

  Me: I’ll be there as soon as I get my cock sucked.

  I sent it, grinning, then pocketed my phone. Tonight would end with answers from the thieving bastard we had locked up, or we’d torture him until he bled out. Either/or, it was always a good time.

  “Kitty said you wanted me,” the blonde said in a sweet Southern twang.

  I grinned at her, leaning back in my seat. “Depends, sugar. How well do you take orders?”

  She batted her long, fake eyelashes. I liked them like that. It was slutty, and, fuck, I liked slutty. Made me want to spank their asses harder.

  “For you, Daddy, I can listen real well.”

  Ah, Kitty. Got her prepped and ready for me. Smart girl.

  “Then, I need you to go to the third private room and wait for me.”

  Her eyes flashed with excitement as she pulled her bottom lip through her teeth before letting it pop free. “Yes, Daddy,” she replied, then turned to the hall of private rooms.

  I watched her tight little ass with nothing but a string up it as she strutted away.

  Three

  Aspen

  “Stay in this car,” Irish said for the tenth time since we had left the house.

  “I know! Jeez. I don’t want to go in that club. Trust me. Go handle whatever. I am fine,” I assured her.

  She pinched her temples. “No, Aspen, you have a fever.”

  “But I feel fine. I could have gone to the after-hours clinic myself.”