Jack & Coke (The Uncertain Saints Book 2) (12 page)

Mig laughed in my face.

“Honey,” he laughed. “Your sister’s a grown adult. You don’t need to keep poking your nose in her business. If she wants to get pregnant by Casten, then let her.”

“There will be no getting pregnant with me. Your sister would have to be drop dead gorgeous and I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. I’ve sworn off women for the next six months,” Casten growled, stalking into the room.

He stopped at the table, picked up his phone, and then stalked right back out.

I grinned at Mig.

“I’ll be there. So will Tasha,” I said.
“You better be ready for Tornado Tasha, because she devours everything in her path.” I hesitated
. “And Casten is exactly what she doesn’t need, but everything she wants.”

“You call your sister Tornado Tasha?” Mig asked.

I smiled at him before backing away. “Yes, I do, my little Thunder Cloud.”

He glared. I laughed. He grabbed.

And things digressed from there.

Mostly in the form of Mig leaning me over the side of the table, and then letting his mouth travel down my belly.

I moaned when his lips found the exposed skin of my belly, where my shirt had ridden up.

“I like you in leggings,” he growled, nipping at my belly.

I giggled, pulling my legs up to wrap around his waist.

He came closer willingly, but he shoved my shirt up in the process exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze.

“Knew you weren’t wearing a bra,” he growled. “It’s a good thing Casten refused to get a massage. I don’t like thinking about you pressing your breasts on my brother.”

I laughed breathlessly, but it was quickly choked off when his mouth closed over one nipple.

Then his hands started to move.

One went down South, while the other went to my breast, pinching and rolling my nipple in between his fingers.

My back bowed when his fingers slipped underneath the elastic waist of my leggings, moving right past my panties straight into the depths of my pussy.

Mig switched to the other nipple as he slowly worked one thick finger inside me, pulling it out to rub the wetness he’d drawn from my channel over the small bundle of nerves.

My eyes crossed, and I grabbed onto the first thing I could reach, which happened to be Mig’s ears.

He didn’t seem to mind, though.

Instead, he growled louder as I started to pant.

I’d never particularly liked being fingered.

I hadn’t understood that it was more than just fumbling hands, which was all that Ross seemed capable of.

Mig, though, did everything with complete and utter focus.

He watched me, felt how my body responded to his touches.

And he knew just when to go slow, or when to speed up.

When to add more fingers inside me.

He paid attention. He knew what I wanted just by reading my reactions.

And both of us were so focused on each other and on what we were doing that neither of us noticed when the office door opened and my sister walked in.

“My God,” Tasha exclaimed loudly. “Can I film this?”

I hastily ripped my shirt down over my chest, concealing my breasts.

Mig growled, shielding me with his body as I repositioned my clothes.

Only when I was completely covered, did he sit up.

And neither my sister nor I missed the huge erection that filled out the front of his jeans.

“You must be Tornado Tasha,” Mig said.

Well, more like growled, but I wasn’t going to get into semantics.

“Seriously, Annie? Why do you have to tell everyone that?” She asked, walking into the room like she didn’t just catch me on the verge of having sex with a hot and sexy man.

I smiled at her, nearly spontaneously orgasming when Mig brought his fingers to his lips while my sister had her back turned and licked my juices off his fingers.

My mouth dropped open.

He grinned.

Then he was gone, leaving me with a smirking Tasha.

“So…you have something to tell me?”

I don’t have a bucket list. However, my fuck-it list is novel length.

-Mig to Annie

Mig

“Do you think when a mattress is on top of a car, it’s a prostitute
making house calls?” Annie
asked her sister.

My head turned, and a laugh bubbled up my throat.

Amazingly, I was able to hold it in.

Annie was notorious for making random comments like that, and when alcohol loosened her tongue, she said even more ridiculous comments than she normally would.

“No,” Tasha said. “That’s just weird.”

“But why else would someone put it on top of their car?”

Peek was laughing uproariously at the way our conversation had turned.

I’d made a comment, not even a minute before, how Annie couldn’t keep her mind on the task she was given if you got her distracted, and he didn’t believe me.

So to prove my point, I started talking about how I wanted to go mattress shopping, and she’d gone off on a tangent about prostitutes and mattresses.

“Annie,” I said sharply.

She looked up at me with wide, brown eyes.

“Yeah?” She asked.

“Do you have the chicken ready yet?” I asked, knowing without a doubt that she didn’t.

She looked down at the chicken that was still just as fatty now as it had been when I handed it to her ten minutes before.

“No,” she said. “I’m working on it.”

“Mine’s done!” Tasha exclaimed.

I turned my eyes to Tasha, struck once again how different she was from Annie.

Where Annie was short, Tasha was tall.

I’m talking five or so inches over Annie’s five feet four inches.

Annie had lovely curves, and a beautiful abundance of breasts to work with, whereas Tasha could maybe fill up a B…if she was lucky.

They did have the same wavy, curly-when-it-wanted-to-be, brown hair.

But their eyes were different colors.

Annie’s were a warm shade of honey brown, while Tasha’s were a darker shade that looked almost black.

And their attitudes.

Swear to Christ.

Tasha was a little timid, looking at the gathering with wide, nervous eyes.

She looked like she’d never been out amongst the general population before…and maybe she hadn’t.

Annie, though, my sweet Annie, was easy going, got along well with Lenore and the rest of the club. Didn’t sneer at the women that showed for the party…nor the men.

Not that I cared if she got along with the men.

She stayed by my side, keeping her eyes, as well as her attention, on me.

Tasha had loosened up after Annie had poured some drinks down her throat.

Not that Tasha had realized there was any booze in her drinks.

She’d been told they were lemonade.

And Annie had laughed behind my back as Tasha had drank one after the other.

Now, though, Annie was just as sloshed as Tasha, and the boys were enjoying the shit out of it.

“That chicken is butchered,” Annie laughed. “There’s more chicken on the fat you cut off than on the chicken that we’re supposed to cook.”

I looked over at Tasha’s chicken, and thought that just maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to give a knife to two drunk girls.

“It’s alright,” I said, taking Tasha’s knife. “I’ll cut these up. How about you ladies go take a seat next to Lenore.”

Lenore was sitting on the couch with Griffin sitting beside her, rubbing her pregnant belly like one would a pet.

She looked cute…and it made me think of Jennifer.

Of my child.

This life I’d been given was not how I’d expected it to play out.

If I had ever thought about a woman carrying my child, I’d have seen myself doing much the same as Griffin was currently doing.

Never in my life would I have imagined myself watching my child grow in the belly of a woman that I despised.

“So I have some news for you, and I’m not sure you’re going to like it,” Casten said once the women left to take up seats across from Griffin and Lenore.

I looked over at him, then back down at the chicken.

“You looked deeper into Cornell?
Autrey?” I asked.

He’d told me he was going to do it.

We’d gone the official route, and, of course, there was little to nothing new there to be found. So Casten started to dig deeper, unofficially, of course.

Casten was a bounty hunter.

He’d found Ross Autrey for me, not that it had done much good, though. Then he’d started looking into Liam Cornell.

I hadn’t expected any news at this point, and it somewhat surprised me that he already had some.

It’d taken him days to find anything on Autrey.

Whomever was covering their tracks was good.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning his hips against the kitchen counter next to me. “I had to double check…but what I found…it’s bad.”

I sighed and put down the knife, walking over to the sink to wash my hands.

Once they were clean of chicken guts, I started out the door.

Casten followed me silently.

Once outside, I saw Apple talking to someone on the phone.

“Yo,” I snapped. “Core!”

Apple turned around like his ass had been cattle prodded.

“Yes?” He asked, hanging up on whomever he was talking to.

I grinned.

“Go cut up those pieces of chicken. Try not to make them any smaller than they already are,” I ordered.

Core, who’d we’d just started calling that since the night he’d helped me with Annie at Hail House, practically ran inside.

“I kind of like that name. Wish I would’ve gotten something cool like that,” Casten said.

I snorted.

Casten had been dubbed ‘Big Ten’. Something he never went by because he said it made him sound like a surfer.

Ours wasn’t really the type of club that cared what you wanted to go by.

You went by what you wanted to go by, and that was that.

“Tell me what you got,” I said softly.

He opened the file that he magically pulled from his back pocket, and my stomach rolled.

Casten roared off the second Tasha was clear of his bike, not even looking backwards to make sure she was safely on the concrete.

I laughed under my breath, getting off my bike as I did.

The man had it bad, and he didn’t stand a chance.

Seriously, there was nothing a man could do if one of the Garcia sisters put you in her sights.

All Casten could do was hold on for the ride.

Annie waved goodbye, and I walked slightly behind Tasha to her front door.

“Don’t forget that you promised to help me out tomorrow with practice,” Tasha said as an afterthought.

I looked back in the direction I’d left Annie, who smiled and waved at her sister in acknowledgement.

“I’ll be there…with bells on!” She screamed.

Tasha snorted and continued to walk, glancing at me once we got to the door.

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you?” Tasha blurted suddenly.

I blinked.

“Not intentionally, no,” I replied softly.

She nodded, studying her feet for quite a while before she looked up at me, smiled, then went inside without a backwards glance.

I turned and walked away once I heard the doors lock, heading to my bike where Annie was leaning over, playing with the key chain.

“What are you doing?” I said loudly, making her jump with a guilty look on her face.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I just like your keychain.

I nodded.

“It was a bullet I got in Iraq,” I said, not offering up an explanation as to why it was on my keychain.

I knew she wouldn’t let it go.

Although, I’d hoped she’d leave it alone, I knew she wouldn’t.

Annie just wasn’t made that way.

She was always thirsty for information. Curious.

Especially when it came to me.

“You were in Iraq?” She asked.

I laughed.

“Yeah, you could say that,” I responded evasively.

I wouldn’t be telling Annie about my time there.

Not tonight. Not after we’d had such a good time together.

One day she would have to know more about Iraq and my deployments, but not right now. We were too new. We had too many things we needed to work on first before we started on the demons of my past.

Annie must have realized that Iraq was a sore subject, because she smiled and turned around towards the bike.

“Don’t forget to get her up by eight. The game starts at nine,” Tasha ordered, making us both turn to look back at the opened door.

Annie waved at Tasha, acknowledging that she’d heard.

“Where does she have to be?” I asked.

“The high school. Tomorrow is the alumni volleyball game at our old high school,” Annie replied, smiling slightly.

My thoughts immediately went to tight little shorts, and how fuckin’ hot they would look cupping Annie’s ass.

It didn’t surprise me that Tasha had been a volleyball player.

Tasha may be a knockout, but she had nothing on Annie.

Annie who was short and curvy.

I hadn’t realized that short girls played volleyball.

“We’ll get you there on time.”

Annie smiled and remounted the bike. She sat there with her eyes closed.

“Helmet!” I barked.

“Shit,” she said, covering her heart. “You scared me.”

I smiled down at my feet as I straddled the seat in front of her, waiting patiently for her to slip the helmet onto her head.

“Sorry,” I said once she was situated.

She wrapped her hands around my waist.

“I wasn’t truly asleep, but really close to being there,” she admitted.

I patted her thigh.

“Your place or mine?” I asked.

She squeezed me tighter.

“Where is yours now?” She asked curiously.

In answer, I started the bike and headed back towards the river.

I was staying on a house boat.

One that Griffin had been staying at during his and Lenore’s separation.

Not that the separation had gone on for long.

Seemed the houseboat was bound and determined to kick its occupants out before they thought they were ready to commit to relationships.

The haze of clouds made the ride feel ominous, but Annie seemed to enjoy it, despite it being on the cooler side.