Calming the Riot Read online

  “You oughta keep it down, Andi,” he rumbled. Then I realized my moaning was really loud. I took a deep breath and did my best to take it down a notch, but that was much easier said than done. Some part of me needed more from him, so I planted my feet firmly on the bed and taking him by surprise with my hands now shoving at his shoulders, I rolled him to his back. That made me feel triumphant and even giddier, but I quickly took my shot. I trailed the tip of my tongue down his torso and watched his hips piston into me. It was beautiful.

  His deep, rumbly chuckle warmed my heart, but the sudden sting of his hands on my ass accompanied by the resounding crack in the air got my immediate attention. “Get that sweet mouth back up here, Andi.”

  He wouldn’t get an argument from me on that one. Him calling me Andi that way was practically hypnotic, and I feared I’d do virtually anything he asked when he said it like that. I got my mouth back up there, and it was a violent kiss with teeth, tongues and our hands in each other’s hair. The mixture of pleasure and pain was so strong I came within minutes. Liar broke away from my mouth with a groan. He thrust upward, stopped, and with a masculine moan of relief I knew he had found his climax too. I didn’t catalog all of my sexual encounters, but to my soul, I knew that wasn’t just the best I ever had, but the best I ever would have.

  Liar

  Liar’s mind had been blown. He wasn’t sure he had ever had sex so good, and that was saying something because during his years in the Navy he put serious effort into making sure he had copious amounts of sex. Andrea might be the best woman to ever happen to him. And life liked to kick him in the teeth any time he had something good. Anything good. Before getting his patch two weeks ago, he thought for sure he’d end up in jail for killing Bush. He couldn’t get this taste of something so fucking good only to have it ripped away. He had to protect himself the only way he knew how even though it would kill him to do it because he knew it might hurt her. They had two rounds of sex, and rather than cuddle with her or anything, he quickly dressed and encouraged her to do the same.

  Twenty minutes later, Liar was dropping Andrea off at her place, but he grabbed her hand before she moved away from his bike. She spoke before he got the chance. “You sure you don’t want to come upstairs. We could have some more fun, though I’m sorry to say my bed isn’t nearly as big as yours.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks, sugar, but no. I got work in the morning, and I suspect you do too. Look, don’t take this the wrong way. What happened this afternoon was great. Just do us a favor, don’t get clingy with me.”

  Watching her face was like watching a balloon deflate. It was full and bright until slowly, but at the same time quickly, it wasn’t anymore. Her lips pursed for a moment, she nodded to herself and then looked Liar square in the eyes. She jerked her chin up at him. “I won’t,” she said in a voice threaded with steel. Then she turned on her heel and went up to her apartment. She didn’t spare him a second glance before closing the door to her home.

  “Fuck,” he groaned as he hung his head in disgust.

  He knew he shouldn’t have given in to her, but fuck, she was a helluva pretty picture on his bed with her hair fanned out behind her. She was so damn forward; he felt like he’d hit the fuckin’ lottery. Chicks had been eager to be with him in the past, but none of them had been so in his face about it. Plus, she damn sure had no qualms about calling him on his bullshit. He was sending her mixed signals, and it wasn’t right. Yet, it was this very moment that reminded him why he’d sent those differing signals. His was not a life made of fairy tale material, and he knew she was looking for a happily ever after. That damn sure wouldn’t come from the likes of him.

  Powering up his bike, Liar made his way back to the compound. Strange how one of the best days of his life could turn into such a shitty night.

  ***

  The next morning, Liar opened the door to Hock’s, and Major looked him up and down.

  “Damn. You ain’t two steps in the door, and I can tell you’re wound tighter than a three day clock. What the hell’s up your ass, Liar?”

  Anyone else, Liar might’ve punched them for sayin’ that shit. But Major had sponsored Liar as a prospect, and during that time the two of them had formed a very tight bond. They had met at the Golden Anchor Bar off 103rd Street. At the time for a reason Liar couldn’t put his finger on, he was having a hard time deciding to leave Jacksonville. As his sponsor with Riot, Liar had spent plenty of time with Major, and yet he never found out why Major’s name was Major. If Liar had to guess it was due to the older man’s ability to be a pain in the ass because God knew the man had it down to a major science.

  “Nothin’ is up my ass,” he mumbled as he strode behind the counter.

  “Excuse me. With six Biloxi brothers in town and one of ‘em bein’ your cousin, I would’ve thought you got laid this weekend.”

  Liar moved toward the back. “Don’t you worry about me. I got fucked and good.”

  Volt sauntered out of the back room. “I assume that happened with Andrea.”

  Liar slid his eyes to Major, and the man had the bad manners to guffaw at Liar’s irritation. Liar gave Volt a curt nod.

  Volt blew out a breath. “Better be careful. You hurt her, you’re in for it from Jacqueline, and I won’t hold her back.”

  “More like you won’t be able to hold her back,” Major chided.

  Volt turned his hands up in a ‘you got me there’ gesture.

  “Not plannin’ on hurting her, Prez.”

  “Good. Now, what’s the deal with the restraining order she’s got.”

  Liar put a hand behind his neck and squeezed as he thought about Andrea being threatened by a stalker. “Some asshole named Gilbert Grant became obsessed with her. Sat outside her office, watched a male customer leave one Sunday afternoon back in January. Then he blindsided Andrea and told her he was going to get what was ‘his.’”

  “And did he?” Volt asked in a growl.

  “No. Luckily, there’s an accountant who has an office above Andrea’s, and he came down and hit the guy with her folding massage chair. Cops were called in, and she took out the RO.”

  “Motherfucker,” Major muttered.

  Volt let out an unhappy sigh. “She hear from him or see him since?”

  “No, but some chicks she used to work with want her to cover for them during the holidays. That’s how I found out about it, to begin with.”

  “What’re you talkin’ about?” Major asked.

  Liar let the hand behind his neck drop. “That’s how the asshole found out she had a separate office. She used to work the poker room floor, and some other player asked about getting a session for his wife or whatever. Andrea isn’t fired up to go back to the poker room because that asshole might be there.”

  Volt gave Liar a steely look. “That shit ain’t right. She shouldn’t be denied an opportunity to make extra cash if she wants to because of that sick fuckwad.”

  Liar nodded his agreement. “Apparently the director of the poker room said she was good to work it as long as they had a copy of the restraining order and they already have security in place.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause an off-duty cop is gonna keep this scumbag from accosting her at her vehicle in the parking lot or some other kind of sick shit,” Major muttered.

  Volt arched an eyebrow at Liar. “He’s right. You care about her at all, you better find out if she takes this gig. Even if it’s only temporary, she’s gonna need people keepin’ an eye out for her.”

  Liar took in a deep breath. This was not what he wanted to hear, and yet, he knew he wouldn’t let some nut-job get near her either. It was a catch-22. He wanted to protect her, but he couldn’t let himself get close to her in the process. No way was he going to let himself get hung up on a woman who was out of his league and likely to tear his heart out when she realized, the man she wanted wasn’t him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Andrea

  Monday morning hit me like a hammer. Rolling to my side, I turne
d off my alarm. It was one of the first times the rising volume of ocean waves did not put me in a mellow mood. Normally, I took Mondays off, but unfortunately, I had three appointments today. I had gone to bed grumpy after Liar’s terse words, and now here I was cranky as all hell. What kind of bullshit was that he spouted at me, anyway? Don’t get clingy. Fuckin-A, I had to come on to him in order to give us both the release we clearly needed. Fucking men.

  In an effort to change my mood even slightly, I decided to eschew my normal purple scrubs and pulled out my Bright Crazy Cat Print scrubs. They were a rainbow of colors, but heavy on the color orange and outlines of kitty heads could be seen throughout. It was the perfect outfit for today, so much so my own calico cat Mr. Snuffles came out to weave in between my legs in approval. He shied away from people and last Monday’s impromptu girls night in threw him for a loop. He let me know all about it the following morning. I suspected he’d be just as vocal this morning about my lengthy absence yesterday.

  Dressed in my brightly patterned scrubs, I made my way to the kitchen and stuck to the routine of making a bowl of oatmeal with honey, flax seed and a cinnamon-nutmeg blend I liked. While I waited for the water to heat up in the microwave, I noticed the Dunkin’ Donuts cup on the counter. Yesterday, I never drank it. It was a blatant reminder of Liar and his infiltration of my space. I took an extremely deep breath to keep my temper in check because if I didn’t my first inclination was to throw that cup against the wall with all the force I could muster. That wouldn’t do because it would just create far more housework than I had time for, and it would probably give Mr. Snuffle a kitty heart attack because God knew he’d never had any caffeine on my watch. Men!

  Stirring my oatmeal to a decent consistency, I stupidly let my mind wander. I should’ve known things with Liar would blow up in my face. There were mirrors in my home, so I knew what I looked like, and while I didn’t think I was conceited, I still knew I had ‘it’ going on. Whenever I walked to the grocery store or the Urban Bean, I got more than my fair share of cat-calls. I used to attribute that to those trucks being driven by blue-collar men with lower standards than most, but Janie quickly and firmly put me in my place. She told me she’d kill to have even half of my looks, so I realized there was something to the horn-honks and whistles thrown my way. With that in mind, I never should have thrown myself at Liar. Perhaps I didn’t exactly throw myself at him, but it damn sure shouldn’t have taken so much prodding on my part to convince him to have sex with me.

  Then for him to tell me not to ‘get clingy’ with him. What a bunch of bullshit that was. How in God’s green acre could I get clingy with him when it was nearly all me who initiated sex? Something about that request had bugged me at the time, causing my hackles to rise and I gave him a false bravado; but after sleeping on it, I realized his request was disingenuous. If I didn’t know better, he said that in an effort to keep me at arm’s length. The question was whether or not I’d allow him to keep me at such a distance.

  My appointments tended to stick to the allocated times, but for whatever reason, my eleven o’clock wrapped up earlier than expected, which was to say five minutes early. I always blocked out noon until two o’clock for lunch and other possible chores or tasks to be handled before my later appointments. While I was switching out the massage table cover, my cell phone rang in the outer office. I grabbed it without looking at the display.

  “Hello?”

  “Andrea? Martin Reynolds with the Best Bet Poker room. Hopefully you remember me?”

  Even though I didn’t mean it, I smiled because I knew the facial expression would sound in my voice. “Martin. So good to hear from you. What makes you call today?”

  I could hear a smile in his voice too, but I suspected it was even faker than the smile in my own voice. “I heard there was the possibility that you might be providing our dedicated players with your services in the coming weeks. Wanted to make sure that you knew we have your best interests in mind, and whatever security measures you need, we are ready to provide those to you.”

  My eyebrow arch was skeptical at best, but he couldn’t see it, so it didn’t bother me. “I’m glad to hear that, Martin. Shayla tells me you will need a copy of the restraining order for your security team. Do you need just the one or should I drop off two?”

  There was a pause, and I could hear Martin shuffling papers as though he was sitting at a desk. “Mmm, you know. Now that you mention it, having two copies of the order wouldn’t be a bad idea. I definitely need a copy for the Sherriff’s office because they always have a deputy on premises, but another on file just in case would be great. Will that be a problem, Andrea?”

  I had to swallow the smart-ass remark on the tip of my tongue. “It won’t be. But, Martin, is it going to be difficult for you to provide adequate security on the evenings I work the floor?”

  With a half-scoff, I could all but see him brushing me off. “Andrea, please. We run a tight ship here in Orange Park. No worries about that guy! We have deputies here every night, and there’s no way a guy like that would tempt fate like this.”

  “Fine. I’ll get you what you need, Martin,” I said and disconnected. Once I redressed my massage table, I grabbed my purse and keys. Locking the door behind me, I walked the block and a half to the nearby Winn-Dixie. I went to their deli and ordered a “Jaguar” sub with mayo and no mustard. Then I grabbed a Big-Grab sized bag of Doritos and a bottled Diet Dr. Pepper from the small display refrigerator at the register and paid for my lunch items.

  I had just finished my sandwich when Janie called me, and she read my voice immediately. “What’s wrong? You sound weird. Like you’re pissed, but not fully and you’re definitely irritated.”

  Blowing out a breath, I chuckled. “It is damn safe to say I’m irritated all right. I’m kinda pissed at myself, and I’m extremely irritated with a biker.”

  “Really? Not the one who was ‘in’ your place and looked down his nose at you, was it?”

  “One and the same. It’s a weird story, but bottom line, Jackie invited me to her house, I did not expect him to be there. He practically shouted, ‘What the fuck’s she doin’ here?’ I knew he was unhappy about my presence. I stayed just long enough to not be rude, and when I left, he cornered me at my vehicle.”

  “Really?” Janie asked. From the tone of her voice, I could tell she was not just smiling, but she was downright merry about my issue.

  “Yes, really. Then he sent me all manner of mixed signals, but not before he took it upon himself to use WD40, whatever the hell that’s made of, on my vehicle without my consent and told me he was comin’ after me. Then he showed up at my place Sunday, and we spent the day together.”

  “You spent the day together?” Janie shrieked in my ear.

  “Essentially. He took me for a ride, we had lunch in Fleming. When he brought me to my place, he was so tense I talked him into letting me try to work it out of his muscles.”

  “Just bet you did,” Janie deadpanned.

  “Enough. Then, he got a call from a cousin of his, and next thing I knew we were at the compound.”

  “That’s fine and great, but why would you be irritated about this stuff?”

  I sighed. “I pretty much had to goad him into having sex with me, and then when he finally brought me home, he had the audacity to tell me not to ‘get clingy’ with him. I was so hurt and pissed last night, I hardly slept.”

  “Hmm,” Janie said noncommittally.

  “I get the feeling that he said that to keep me at arm’s length after doing the deed with me.”

  “You might be right about that, and really, it might be a good idea to do what he says.”

  “Excuse me? You need to clarify, Janie.”

  “Well, he doesn’t want you to be clingy, and there’s a popular belief that ‘she who cares the least—’”

  “Don’t quote that morning radio show stuff at me.”

  “You can’t deny it’s valid. You act like you don’t care and you got your joll
ies, it might all be good.”

  “Or it will all be bad, and I’ll never see him again.”

  “Let’s do lunch on Friday, but seriously, as close as you are with Jackie, you ‘never’ seeing him again, is highly unlikely. I’ll text you later.”

  I put the phone on silent and tucked it in my drawer so I could wash my hands and be ready for the rest of my day.

  ***

  My last appointment left at five-thirty, and by a quarter to six, I was ready to lock up and call it a day. As I pulled my purse from my desk drawer, I heard the bells tinkle from my front door. I looked up to see Liar standing in my lobby. It was hard to say how I managed it, but I didn’t purse my lips at him even though I desperately wanted to, seeing as he was the last person I wanted to see. Okay, maybe not the very last, Gilbert Grant was the last person I wanted to see, but still.

  I set my purse on top of my desk and looked at him expectantly.

  He sighed and let his arms hang loose at his sides. “You takin’ the gig at the poker room?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment as I tamped down the urge to be a complete smart-ass and probably a wee-bit bitchy in the process. “Most likely. I have to get two copies of the restraining order to Martin, and he assures me he’s got security to keep things safe. By the way, hello, Liar. How are you?”

  “Volt wants someone to watch your back. So, let us know when you’ll be there.”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to advise him that Volt could have called me to let me know these things, but I held my tongue. From everything I heard from Jackie and witnessed when she first got involved with Volt, I knew better than to argue against needing or wanting their protection. They saw it as a gift and a favor, so for me to protest was seen as stupidity at best and an insult at worst.