Whiskey's Redemption (Crown and Anchor) Read online
Page 2
I want to hit that emergency button and show her how easy it is to tear off silk. But I don’t. The sweetness of the older couple restrains me.
Three floors later the doors open, and before I can say another word, Carli’s scuttling out beside the aged couple.
I don’t chase her. I should, but I don’t, even if I’d rather put that woman over my knee and spank the sass out of her.
Carli
Cursing myself all the way to my car, I let the warm breeze cool me down. Wearing a thin silk shift today probably wasn’t the best idea, but I love to taunt.
Did I think I’d get away with taunting Crown?
Nope.
Shaking off the heated moment, my brain finally starts back up. Letting my libido take over is normally a great idea, but with him? Fuck me. It’s a truly bad idea to let him get to me. There’s nothing I’d rather have than that man’s hands on my body and his lips on mine. Jamieson Crown ticks off all my boxes. With soft commanding lips, a gorgeous face full of beard, and an almost painful grip on my body, he pulled me close. His thick frame and wide shoulders are appealing, but as Jamieson’s enormous Billy club protruded into my stomach when he yanked me close, I realized what he is. Danger.
“Had to find a Crown to fall in love with, huh, Circe? They’re dangerous, sexy, walking erotic dreams. His damn brother has me needing Jai. Are you happy, Circe!” I yell out as I’m walking to my car.
Talking to myself as I venture across the open garage, I anticipate the thought of getting myself off to crush this tension. You can’t blame a girl for having a wicked need, and seeing there’s no worthy specimens wandering to their cars at the same time as me, my battery-operated tool will have to do.
Reaching my car in record time, the door clicks as I place my hand in the handle. Tossing my bag onto the semi-heated leather, I crank the air conditioner up after relocking the door. Thank fuck for remote starts or my ass would fry in these linen slacks. Leaving the window screen in place, giving myself a touch of shade and a smidge of privacy, I pull the bright pink tool out of the zippered section of my bag.
Looking around to make sure I’m not visible in this public space, I quickly undo the top of my pants and talk to my vibrator. “Time for you to do your job, Jai.”
No lube is necessary, as Mr. Cocky-as-fuck-Crown has raised my heartrate and quickly stepped up my production of needing to get off. Inserting the wide end in, I leave the rabbit section to do its job, groaning at the slight pressure as its length fills me. I haven’t even turned it on yet and I’m ready to go off like a weak teenager.
“Fuck you, Crown,” I say, flicking the switch to my favored setting. The vibration courses through my sensitive inner walls as the outer rabbit engages my clit.
“Fuck.” Groaning at the instant contact, I relish the relief that’s just within reach. “Why’d you have to be so sexy, you fucker. Why’d—” As it reaches a particularly edgy point, my words hitch. “Why’d it have to be your arrogant ass that pulled this need from me? You’re such a prick.”
As it reaches a point where I can almost tolerate it, I crank it to the next position. “Fuck me!” The level of ecstasy rises and my breathing quickens. My words are nonexistent, and my enjoyment is cresting to the point of pain. And honestly, I’m making myself hold off because I want more.
I rock my hips through it. Bucking lightly in the leather seat causes squeaking noises. I don’t give a shit. Pressing the button, bringing forth the last setting, my inner muscles tighten before I scream out my release.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck, Crown! How the hell do you pull this need from me with a kiss?”
Allowing my body to squeeze out every drop of release from my greedy pussy, I slowly back down Jai until reaching stop. Pulling it free, I grab a wipe from my glovebox and give it a quick cleaning before placing it back inside the hidden bag in my purse. If someone was to catch me cleaning a vibrator in my car after screaming my release, they’d either think I was a wanton whore, or was being raped. They’d be right about the whore thing anyways.
When there’s a hard knock on my window, I draw my eyes to the person who’s interrupted my cleaning ritual and glare. I’m sure they understand how they’re both the instrument and the reason behind why I needed this.
I set Jai on the center console. I should have expected that my day would go this way. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, I confront the interloper that’s ruined my euphoric high.
As the window goes down, I squint my eyes behind my Ferragamo shades, trying my best to give him a disgusted look. Bastard yet again is here to halt my high. Unfortunately, the first thing I notice is his hardened cock straining against his jeans, stretching out the material. I do my best to ignore it.
“Can I help you?” I ask crassly.
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He gives me a wicked smirk, letting me know he caught me. But I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of thinking I’m embarrassed.
I’m not.
“You’re funny aren’t you, Mr. Crown. No, I have Mr. Courtney to keep me company.” I tap my hand on the bright pink toy that just helped me release my tension. “He doesn’t let me down. I don’t have to suck his cock, and he doesn’t desert me after he gets off. So no, I’m just fine.” Pressing the button, I raise the window and slam my car into gear.
If I ran over his feet as I sped out of the parking lot, I didn’t notice. Looking in the rearview mirror, I see him standing there, as if in disbelief.
Jamieson
Fuck!
That woman. I can’t even put into words how amazing she is.
Walking away from me at the elevator, stomping mad and needing a release, her steps hitched as she adjusted her linen slacks. To think, she was that bothered by our kiss. Her rubbing one out in her car was the furthest thing from my mind, but it was fucking perfection. I may not have expected it, but walking up to her car, looking to finish that kiss, I didn’t envision her using a bright pink power tool.
I listened to her loud cry as her orgasm rose, causing a russet blush to appear on her china white skin. The rocking motion of her riding the wave of her orgasm as it built was damaging to my resolve. Gawking at it all, it took everything in me not to rip open her door, peel those pants down and slam myself to the hilt between her thighs.
Thinking about it, spanking her would be a treat indeed, leaving my palm mark on that globed ass with her face pressed up against her car hood.
Staying until the end of her release wasn’t my intention, but I couldn’t tear myself away. So, waiting until she’d placed the hefty toy on the dash, I stayed silent. Adjusting my cock, I then tapped on her driver’s side window. She didn’t even flinch. With a brief conversation and her peeling out of the parking lot in her own kind of style, I held back my laughter until she was out of sight.
“Third time’s a charm, Crown,” I tell myself, walking to my rental car.
Seeing her at my father’s funeral, she’d caught my eye. I’d expected we’d be in bed after a few timely crass words, sexually charged fights, and perfectly placed hands. Leaving her at the track, then engaging in a horrific dinner with my family, my mind consistently undressed her as I munched down on my steak. Yeah, Wyatt sparked the argument, or maybe it was mother. Either way, it gave me time to text the sexy Asian beauty. Somehow, someway, her fire engaged me and cooled my ice-cold heart.
I keep women at a distance, emotionally. Their bullshit, their drama, and their lacking morals are what I always seem to find. Do I care? No. A wet pussy, an open mouth, and a greedy ass are all that keep me entertained, usually. But her mind far surpasses any easy women I’ve met before.
Clicking the remote for the door of the rental, I hop into the blistering hot seat and crank up the air. Fuck, it’s hot here. I want to go home more than anything. It’s been months of this heat, bullshit with the family business and the hospital. My only respite has been the shop I bought here. It’s given me a reason to vacate the hospital and avoid the history
of the past that haunts me as I think about my parents and their deaths.
Throwing the car in gear, I talk to myself as I pull out of the parking lot. “Thank fuck you’re awake, Wyatt. I need back to the cold before my insides burn up in this California heat.”
Checking the time, I have a half hour before I need to be at the shop. I bought it on a whim, and I’ve only been there once. Gruber, the guy running it for me, texted earlier about an issue with the building. Pulling up the address on the GPS, I drive straight over. Gruber was once a great surfer, but the puss-ass shit he does now makes him no better than a street racer turned executive bigwig. You can push the high-powered guy to the gutter, but the gutter can’t truly be a star. Your fate is decided by those pinnacle points in your life that defined you long before you were born.
Yeah, in name I’m a Crown, but my edges are rusted, my diamonds are cracked, and the luster has worn off. Growing up as a kid, I saw all the powerful, pompous assholes that thought their shit smelled like five hundred dollar Gianni Versace eau de cologne, or perfume. No, their shit just stunk worse than the fragrances they used to mask it. Take away the shine and they’re still just assholes looking to climb the ranks. Me? Well, I had a powerful, fantastic, and warm, loving father that I needed to make proud. Did I? No. Some days I wonder if he even remembered I was a Crown, or even his son.
When my dad was alive, he lived a life full of motor oil and exhaust. I like the fresh air, the brisk cold, and the sound of absolutely nothing. The rumble of a bike and well-tuned cars sound great, sure, but I’d rather a helo to take me to the heights where no one else ventures. Tamping down the snow first is perfection to me. Looking back up at your tracks and seeing you’re the only crazy motherfucker up there is priceless. Yeah, I do the comps and the X-Games, but to hit the slopes by my house in Colorado is way better than anything else.
Not one member of my family ever visited me for a weekend of riding the slopes. In all honesty, their California skin couldn’t handle the cool air. Yeah, Wyatt visited when he could, but it was to hang out and talk about family shit and the will that hung over our heads. Now I’ll never have that chance with my parents again. Death has taken care of that, unfortunately, so it’s just me and my siblings.
Pushing the ‘poor me’ mood out, I concentrate on the drive down La Cienega. The sun’s beaming down, steaming up my frosted edges, and I’ve had the air conditioning running in this car nonstop to avoid the blistering heat. It’s unbelievable how bad I find this heat after living in the mountains for so long. Pulling up in front of the tiny side street, I signal the turn.
Waiting for the long line of slow drivers, I finally have a chance to advance through. Turning through the first lane, I’m almost through the second when I feel the car jerk. “Fuck me. Now I know why I love it in Colorado. The fucking traffic here is ridiculous.”
Wondering what the hell happened, I’m spinning around in the seat to look for the culprit. “Could this shit day get any worse?” Damage on this cheap ass rental is not what I needed today.
Unbuckling my belt and leaving the car, I’m honked at by no less than five road rage inductees. Stepping out, I wave my hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Some fucktard just ruined your day. Never mind that mine’s been a ball of fucking joy.”
Kiss my ass.
Stepping around to the back of the vehicle, it’s easy to see the issue. Stuck just under my bumper is a Smart Car with the tiniest little girl hiding her face.
She rolls down her window when she sees me approach. “Please, please, don’t call the police. This will be my ninth accident in three months. I can’t have them involved.”
“Sweetie, if this is your ninth accident, you need to hand me the keys to the jellybean and start fucking walking down the street.”
While tears flow down her face, streaking her makeup until she looks like a Picasso, I’m yelled at by the surrounding motorists. Shit. As always, my growly voice scares teenagers. Sneering at the odd one and tossing up a few ‘fuck yous’ to the others, I feel sort of bad for giving her a hard time, so I decide to be nicer. “Look, stop crying. I can’t handle it. I’m just going down the street. Follow me and I’ll get your info. You don’t follow through, though, I’ll run you down with this rental.”
Sniffling as she wipes her face on the back of her hand, she nods as she catches her breath.
Walking back to my door, I hop in and advance the rest of the way through the intersection, pulling off once I’m out of the way of the annoying masses.
“Fuck me. First it’s Wyatt telling me about mother and their heart to heart, then seeing the woman that fires up my ‘fuck you’ attitude better than most. Now I’m late to the meeting with Gruber because of a bumper car and it’s blindfolded driver.”
Taking the keys out of the car, I lock it up and start it remotely so the A/C will keep going, then walk over to the young, teary-eyed terrorist. She has her windows up tight while she talks on the phone. Attempting to ignore me, I tap her window. I’m surprised by the little ant as she holds a petite finger in the air, asking me to wait a second.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Checking my watch, seeing that I’ll be beyond fucking late, I decide to call Gruber. Dialing him, he picks up on the third ring.
“Powder Kings.”
“Hey man, it’s Whiskey. I got into a fender bender with a ladybug so I’m gonna be a few minutes late.” Staring down at the little girl behind the wheel, she scrambles through paperwork as the phone falls from her ear. Bending to pick it back up, I watch her blunder through the conversation while trying to explain something.
“Yeah. I’m gonna be here for at least another hour,” Gruber states.
“Cool. I’ll get out there as soon as I can. I’m just a few streets away, and it shouldn’t be more than a few minutes.”
“No worries. See you soon.” With Gruber hanging up, I pocket my phone.
Looking down on the driver, I tap the kid’s window again as I see she has herself straightened out and her phone set down. Hopefully, this means the little shit will come out to talk to me.
Rolling her window down a smidgen, she leans forward. “Um, excuse me?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you Jamieson Crown, the snowboard racer?” A cute grin crosses her face and she lights up slightly. Not unusual, I get it all the time.
“Yeah, I’m Jamieson.”
Smiling brightly, she rolls the window down a touch more and passes an envelope out. I take it in hand, wondering what’s going on.
“You’ve been served.”
Whipping up the window fast, she slams the car in reverse and takes off into the oncoming traffic we’d just left. Before I even know what’s happened, I’m standing in the street with a fucking subpoena. I’m sure I know what it’s for, but I’m too damn curious not to look.
To Jamieson Harris Crown.
With the untimely death of one Jaxson Crown and one Marca Crown, the reading of your father’s will was postponed until the outcome of your brother and co-heir, a one Wyatt Crown, was finalized. Now that Mr. Crown has awoken, we will commence with the reading and decisions of the will on…
Zoning out to the details of the remainder of the letter, it seems I have no choice but to attend the bullshit meeting. The worst part of it is, that they want to schedule it for the day of our sister China’s court case. She won’t be able to attend, and I promised her that I’d be there to support her at court. Now, not only do I have to stand her up, but I have to go to the reading of the will without Wyatt. He’s in no shape to leave his bed, let alone the hospital.
I scrunch up the letter and toss it in the backseat of my rental. Every nerve I own has been fucking set alight today. I want to tear down the world and everything in it to just be left alone, but no. Not one of these fuckers will leave me be.
“So much fun being back in Cali,” I mutter, starting off. Gruber better have good news for me because my shit meter is fucking full, and I’m about to take it ou
t on someone.
Carli
“Ushered out like a piece of unwanted trash. Yep, that was fab. Then him! Yep. Not a blessing in disguise.” Cussing and cursing my predicament as I drive down Rodeo, I’m looking for a spot to park the car. I most definitely need retail therapy to get out of this funk mood.
Rubbing it out with Jai didn’t fix it, and after being found by the same said man, I now need a better release. To be honest, I don’t care where I shop today, just as long as it fits like a glove, is made from the finest materials, and is extravagantly overpriced. It will brighten my mood considerably.
Seeing the demise of my black card, I park in front of Gucci. Parking and hopping out, I lock it. Standing in front of the silver shrine to excess, I walk quite proudly to the doors.
“Welcome to Gucci, madam. Enjoy your shopping experience today,” the doorman greets me in a very cool and kindly manner. He’s neither indifferent nor welcoming, but I don’t give a shit that his attitude needs a check.
Stepping inside, the crisp air conditioning that’s perfectly tempered entices me as it wraps around my soul. “Today is a good day to shop,” I mutter, not expecting an answer.
“Very right you are. And how can I help you do that today?” a chipper voice asks from behind me. Turning around, standing in the window amidst the mannequins is a very pristinely dressed young man. His hair is short, but stylish. And his outfit? Oh, wow. His green and garish outfit is straight out of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band video, and is awful for his skin tone.
“I’m looking for access to the third floor. Could you let Jon Henry know I’m here? I’m in need of a retail release.”
Hand on his hip, he frowns as he checks me out from head to toe, inspecting my attire. “I’m not sure you’re entitled to that section of the store.”