Twisted Luck by Scarlett Black
3 months ago….
Sipping my beer, I look around in disgust. Yea, I’m a grumpy fuck who isn’t in the mood for this little shindig.
The back of the clubhouse is packed with family and friends of the bride and groom. Groaning as if I was in deep pain, I take a long pull of my drink. Happy, love-crazed couples litter the backyard. Lights are hung up and fucking flowers are everywhere. Spider, the lucky fuck, only because Jazzy is a hot chick, got hitched and branded his woman.
Granted, it was a few months back, but here we are celebrating the happy couple. There was no wedding, not in the traditional sense. That’s a story for love-crossed fools with hearts in their eyes. That shit will never be me.
However, months back, I can remember their wedding—
was a party I was down for. Beer, bitches, and bud were flowing, and after the Ol’ Ladies left, the afterparty started. My cock stirs just thinking about the strippers who showed us a good night.
I guess Fuego, the Sacramento Prez and Jazzy’s uncle, thought it fit to throw her a big reception regardless. I’m not bitter that Spider ended up with her, not one bit. The way I see it, I helped to light a fire under his ass to go get her. If he hadn’t . . . fool never saw what was right in front of his face all along. No, my sigh is because it’s going to be a long night ahead, being polite and shaking hands.
disappointment—a lonely trip to bed alone.
That is until I catch an unknown dark-haired beauty in a short dress sitting alone at the bar. Well, Dad always said it was rude to let a lady drink by herself. I may not end up alone after all. My enthusiasm sparks and life takes a turn for the better. My arm raises and I hold my Stetson hat atop my head when a strong Nevada wind kicks up. Dirt is swept up through the warm breeze and whips around us in a whirlwind. With my body blocking the wind, she feels the change in the air and her hypnotic deep brown eyes peek behind her. Her gaze trails up from my belt, and chest, until it lands on my beaming smile.
“Well, I don’t believe I’ve been introduced to you. I’m Cowboy, and you are?” I slide in, resting my forearm on
top of the bar. I bite back the seductive comments about her nice-sized tits or her short summer dress inching up her long, tan legs.
“Angela. I’m here with the bride. You are definitely with the groom’s party.” Her gaze wanders over the patches on my cut.
“That’s about right. You wanna tell me why you’re over here on your own?” Raising my brow high, I wait for her response. Why isn’t she with the bridal party, or Vegas’s crazy ass crew, causing problems as they normally do?
Thank god she isn’t, and I have her undivided attention to myself. The details aren’t important to me as long as this keeps moving where I think she is.
She tethers her thick, long brunette hair in her grasp and lays it over one shoulder. Thick lashes blink up, and lust travels around us in a thick cloud with the dust. Her gaze is trapped with mine.
“How about you sit here with me, have a drink, and make me laugh for a few hours, Cowboy?” Her sultry rasp draws me in closer. My ass promptly finds the stool next to her and I flag over the bartender.
“Two whiskeys and two beers.” Leaning into her tight body, I take in her perfume and it’s all I can do not to run my nose along her neck. She conjures a grin and I murmur, “Wish granted, darlin’. Get ready to drink, dance, and laugh until you can’t take no more.” The
brush of her body against mine sends shocks through my spine. Not only does she want what I do, she needs it—
sex, the raw passion that sets your skin on fire.
Her delicate, manicured fingers run up my buttoned shirt. The coy smirk she gives me says she’s ready for the same things I am. Pure lust enraptures us and, by God, I don’t want out of it. “What if I want more than you want to give me?” She leans in closer and our lips are a breath apart. “What if . . . I want it all?” Angie tugs at my shirt, daring me to take her mouth. But I won’t, not yet.
“Get ready for one hell of a ride then.” I pull my head to my right and my lips graze the flesh of her ear. Her body trembles and I wrap an arm around the back of her seat as the prospect pushes our drinks toward us. “To good company?”
She holds up her shot glass. “To great memories not to be forgotten.” Something tells me she wants to forget, though, and I know exactly how to make that happen. I’ve spent the last few years doing exactly that. Doesn’t matter who she’s here with, I don’t care. I want what she’s offering and from the enticing deep V in her blouse, those tits, they call to me. Angie is the opposite of what a country boy like me grew up believing life would be like, settling down and raising a family. Angie is all city girl and not the girl next door. I want to bite into her like a starving man begging for his next meal.
“Aye.” The burn from the shot feeds the fire that was already burning from the woman sitting next to me.
Surprisingly, she doesn’t cringe from the whiskey, but a drop escapes from the corner of her mouth. My thumb wipes it clean from her plump lower lip, and my mouth sucks the faint taste of salt and alcohol from my skin.
“You want to get out of here? Get away from this party and take a six-pack where I know we can find a quiet place to finish the kind of party we both want?” For the life of me, I’m dragging her down the road of my past.
My chest burns with anticipation. “Come on, Angie, I dare you.”
She thinks about it a moment, not taking her eyes off me. “Actually, yes, I would love to get out of here.”
Taking her hand and the beers, we leave the party and make memories that will never be forgotten. We could blame the alcohol, but it’s the search to find the comfort in another for the night that’s the real draw. The beer and whiskey will make it fun, but what we both want is the feel of flesh, the thrill of an orgasm, the chase. My intention is to remain a bachelor, live off what I can get, and move on. It didn’t matter if I saw her again. What we didn’t see was that one day, we would make a choice that changed it all.