Deceit in Bloom (The Love Unauthorized Series Book 1) Read online

  Her phone rings on the table, and Teagan moves to answer it. She has to plug one ear with her finger and smash her phone to the other to communicate with whoever is on the line. Teagan giggles like a schoolgirl at whatever the person on the other line is saying, but then she passes me the phone.

  “Here, it’s for you. I’m going to the ladies’ room.” With a puzzled expression, I take the phone and look at the screen, which reads, “Brother Killjoy.” I can’t help but to laugh. Seeing Burke and Teagan’s relationship and hearing her words from earlier gives me a glimpse of a different man. I greet the awaiting caller.

  “Hello, Killer.”

  “Who the fuck is this?” His voice is masculine, and it drives a shiver down my spine.

  “I’m hurt you don’t remember me after our time on the couch together.” It might be the liquor, but my voice sounds sultry and playful to my own ears. I don’t think that’s possible for me to pull off sober, so it’s probably the alcohol.

  “Paisley?” He draws out my name like it’s warping his mind. His tone changes, and I’m glad the aggression from before has left with learning it’s me he’s speaking to.

  “The one and only.”

  “You’re out with Teagan? What game are you playing? Never mind. Where the hell are you?” Some of the bitterness returns to his voice as he tries to figure out how we ended up together. Teagan said part of the reason she was befriending me was to annoy Burke, and I guess she was right. He sounds annoyed.

  “Vincenzo’s.”

  “Motherfucker! Shit, don’t leave.”

  He hangs up, and Teagan returns from the restroom.

  “Brother Killjoy?” I question the nickname. Teagan laughs as if it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. Once she calms back down, she talks through hiccups.

  “Burke’s a little overprotective of me. I think if he had his way I’d never leave the house.” She finishes her explanation and holds in her breath in an attempt to rid herself of her pesky hiccup problem. It doesn’t seem to be working. Not even ten minutes later, Burke comes bursting through the door. People stop what they’re doing and almost everyone keeps their eyes on his path. He walks with a confident swagger, and his body language screams, “Don’t mess with me.” The problem is that the swagger is part of the thing that’s begging me to break the rule of look but don’t touch.

  Once he reaches the table, the anger radiating off him is more than apparent. Teagan doesn’t seem fazed, but I’m torn between flight and fondle.

  “Burke! You came to drink with us!” Teagan jumps out of her chair, clapping her hands together. She’s trying to wind him up, and frankly, I find it amusing.

  “No. I didn’t, and you know that. Let’s go. Play time is over.”

  Teagan gives Burke that mischievous grin I saw earlier at the diner, but he doesn’t look happy or amused by her antics. “You’ll be our chauffeur. Jeeves, take us home!” She loses her footing, but as she stumbles, Burke dives to catch her. She wasn’t even really falling, she tripped over her feet a bit. Watching Burke with Teagan is like watching a totally different person. Maybe all the stuff she rambled on about him earlier is true. Maybe he isn’t as bad as his reputation. His bark worse than his bite.

  “Shit. How much did you guys have to drink?”

  Teagan ignores him and charges forward. I shrug my shoulders in response. First rule of drink club is you don’t talk about drink club. Once we are outside in the steamy Florida humidity, I realize just how tired I am from a long day of work and then play. As we approach the parking lot, I speak up.

  “I’m not far from here. I had fun, Teagan. Let’s do it again sometime.”

  Both of them stop walking and turn to stare at me.

  “You’re not walking home this late and drunk. Get in my car.” It isn’t a request. His stance alone says there is no room for debate on the subject. My feet move toward them without my permission, and I slip into the backseat of Burke’s car. Teagan, who is still purposefully trying to push his buttons, sits in the back with me to keep up her chauffeur charade. I groan upon our approach.

  “What is it?” Teagan searches the dark parking lot for signs of what has me irked.

  “It’s nothing, really. That flowerpot in the window means Stassi has a customer over. It’s fine. I sleep on the couch most nights anyway. Thanks for the ride.”

  As I reach for the door handle, the car moves backward.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “You’re not going in there. You’ve been drinking all night and there is some sketchy dude in your apartment.” The car pulls away and heads out of my neighborhood.

  “Kai is one of those sketchy men. It’s probably him that’s there.”

  “It’s not Kai. I left him back at the house, pissed Teagan was out boozing and bar hopping.” This time it’s Teagan that groans. She’s obviously not liking that tomorrow she’ll receive a double teaming of scolding. I’m tired, and I don’t have it in me to argue with Burke. It may not be safe, but it’s normal in my life. Instead, I shut up and let him drive. It looks like I’m sleeping over tonight.

  Burke

  What the hell happened tonight? I have no idea how this string of events occurred, but I’m baffled and aggravated. One thing I’m positive of: Teagan is pushing back. She’s rebelling like she did when she was an immature teen, which usually resulted in some extremely poor choices on her part and one hell of a headache for me. Handling her now is much harder than handling her then. At least before I could set up punishments.

  When Teagan came to live with us, I didn’t know anything about raising a child. Especially a girl. And eventually a sneaky teenage girl. Why would I? We had two real rough patches with Teagan growing up. When she first arrived and again when she was in her early teens. The first rough patch was largely due to my ignorance of how to deal with a ten-year-old girl. The poor child went to school with unbrushed hair and basketball shorts on more times than I’d like to admit. It was a learning process, but we eventually figured it out. Then at thirteen, Teagan started to try to push boundaries with us, and our second rough patch began. She rebelled. The more we acted like cavemen with her, the more she acted out.

  I’d take the rebellious teen over the angry twenty-something any day, especially considering what’s really at stake in the present. I’d been trying to get a hold of her for hours tonight. Then, when I finally did, she was at Vincenzo’s, the last place on this planet I wanted her to be. The very bar where Anthony was running his mouth about us.

  Sure, Anthony was dead, but I couldn’t say all his doom and gloom premonitions hadn’t stuck in my head. If Teagan were ever hurt because some guy was jealous of our success, I’d surely go to jail for the rest of my life, and that wasn’t a place I wanted to be.

  The Paisley aspect had me even more confused. Having an unknown voice call me “killer” after the first time I had done just that raised the hairs on my arm. I was relieved when I found out it was Paisley being flirtatious. My initial relief wore off, and I went back to skeptical, trying to figure out how it came to be that Teagan and Paisley wound up together in a bar. At first, I thought Paisley was playing games with me because I screwed with her on the couch, but really, I didn’t know what to think. Did she search out my sister and take her out drinking to mess with my head? She didn’t seem like the type to use people, but I couldn’t figure out how the two of them ended up together.

  It was already pretty late when we got back, so I carried Teagan’s drunk ass to her bed and showed Paisley where she could sleep. I’ve been tossing and turning ever since. At the rate my thoughts are running through my head, I’ll be up most the night. Thoughts of Paisley of a different nature pop up. Her full lips and images of them wrapped around my cock quickly surface as the tension aches. I imagine her tits, picturing what they look like under her clothes. Visions of devouring her come to mind. My hands, mouth, and tongue teasing every inch of skin. My body is itching for release. I’m worked up in a way that I don’t t
hink has ever really happened before while on my own.

  My dick is tenting my boxer briefs. It isn’t long before my hands are venturing to get some relief. As I slide my hand down my shaft, I think of bending Paisley over. Perfect to have those sexy curves of hers on complete display for me. She has an ass that deserves to be on display—seen, touched, and spanked. The thought of her laid out or bent over for me has me almost to the brink of release. I imagine my hands on her skin, feeling every inch of her curves, and my rough touch marking her skin. Her body arching and begging for more. I can practically hear her screaming my name in utter pleasure.

  The image of her under me, ready to explode, has my own release rising. The tremors take over my body as my hand slides up and down my cock. My release is powerful, and I imagine it’s her cunt squeezing me until I’m dry.

  I’m sweating and panting from coming like a boy who discovered the magic of yanking his own dick for the first time. Thinking of her in this way while fucking jacking off is not a good idea. It’s easy to see things clearly once I have already made the mistakes. I can’t fuck Paisley, and tormenting my mind with thoughts of it isn’t the way to make the situation any less tempting. If anything, it only makes it worse. I want to hear her scream my name. I want to taste her. I want to thrust inside her with enough force to wreck me. Something tells me that’s exactly what will happen if I ever touch her.

  Paisley is a girl that deserves more than I can give her. She deserves a man who can give her all the shit a girl wants and needs in a relationship. I want her more than I’ve ever wanted pussy before, but something deep inside me tells me I can’t hurt her. I can’t give her what she deserves, so I need to keep my distance. Plus, it’s dangerous for her to be connected to me. Being associated with me means she could end up in a psychotic conspiracy that starts with a doll carved up with her name on it and goes somewhere I can’t predict.

  Securing my boxer briefs back in place, I head downstairs for some water, and what do you know? The woman of my late-night fantasy is also down in the kitchen. She stands with her back against the counter, looking out the kitchen window and sipping from her own glass of water. Seeing her after what I just did has me worked up all over again. It doesn’t hurt that the only visible piece of clothing she has on is one of my shirts I gave her earlier. It covers more skin than what most of the girls wear to our parties, but it’s definitely awakening my hunger for her once again.

  As I near, her attention leaves the window and her eyes snap to mine. She plays with the hem of the long shirt she’s wearing, and as she toys with it, I get a glimpse of more of what I’m missing underneath. There is no way my dirty fantasies even compare to the real Paisley.

  “Sorry. Did I wake you?” As she speaks, she sets the glass of water on the counter and angles her body to better face me. She’s short, but her legs are sexy as fuck. She’s tan and toned. Still the hottest girl I’ve ever seen, even with her hair up in a messy bun and her face completely free of any makeup.

  “No, I couldn’t sleep.”

  I move to get a glass and water from the fridge, at the same time keeping my distance from her and trying like hell not to look at her legs. She’s a temptation I can’t give in to. My fantasies will have to suffice.

  With the glass nowhere near filled, I sense Paisley move behind me. Her small frame is inches from contact with mine when she stops. With force I wasn’t expecting, she turns me around to face her. Catching me off guard is the only reason for her success in the maneuver. Still, she keeps a space between us as she looks up at me with the same look I saw in her eyes before our first and last kiss. Her movements are seductive as she slides her hand up my chest and raises on her toes to bring her lips to my ear. Her words almost break my will to stay away from her.

  “We could not sleep together, since we both can’t seem to fall asleep on our own. I hear not sleeping is better when done in pairs.” This is the game. She wants her revenge for how I left things last time between us. Our own kind of twisted entertainment. Even if I give in, she’s going to pay me back for what I’ve already done to her. I know this, and I still want to take her on the countertop and prove to her she doesn’t have the willpower to pull away. What’s really stopping me is how much she drank tonight.

  Instead, while willing my body not to react to hers, I answer back while gently putting some distance between us. “Our game is on pause tonight.” Her first attempt at redemption being a failure doesn’t sit well with her. She’s torn between pushing harder and giving up.

  “But why?” She searches my face. There is a sting of rejection in her eyes that wasn’t there when I pulled away from her on the couch. That time, she’d seen it as a challenge to win. This time, she feels as if I don’t want her. She couldn’t be more wrong, but I don’t really want her to know that.

  “You’ve had too much to drink tonight for me to consider that redeemable behavior.”

  A smirk lights up her face. The gesture inflicts a teasing tone into her words. “But I thought big, bad Burke Hensley does as he pleases, takes what he wants, and shies away from commendable morals.” Her hand trails up my chest. I stop the movement before her hand snakes up the back of my neck. That doesn’t sit well with me. I do what I have to for survival. I take care of my family by any means possible. I protect my business and my name in this town. Intentionally hurting someone innocent isn’t who I am. I don’t take advantage of girls, fuck with people who don’t deserve to be fucked with, or kill for sport—no matter what recent history says.

  “Jesus, Paisley. I’m an asshole, but I’m not completely without a moral compass.” I rub my temples in frustration. This girl has my head a mess from the sexy fantasies to the surprising insults.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that,” she stutters as I return to filling up my water while Paisley’s feet stay rooted to the floor. With my glass full, I face her again, taking a large drink of water and draining half the glass.

  “I have a question I’d like answered,” I say as I lower the glass and watch her hop up to sit on the counter, then crosses one leg over the other, exposing even more skin to my hungry eyes.

  “Shoot.”

  I lean back against the cool fridge in an attempt to alleviate the heat raging within me.

  “What were you doing with my sister tonight?”

  Paisley takes a thoughtful pause and then deadpans her response. “I’m out to get you. My plan is to infiltrate your life, starting by befriending your sister and then eventually keeping you locked in a basement somewhere.” She laughs at the absurdity of her own answer. While it’s a ridiculous notion coming from her, it may not really be that far off from what has been going on in my life. She doesn’t know that. There is a stiff change in my own posture at her words.

  “Relax, Jesus! You’re so uptight. Teagan came into the diner today and asked me to hang out. Simple as that. I like her. We had fun. You’re different when you’re around her.”

  She piques my curiosity with her last statement. “What do you mean ‘different’?” Paisley seems to choose all her words carefully before she answers, and I’m not sure if she’s scripting herself or if she’s simply thoughtful by nature.

  “I don’t know. With others, you demand respect by your mere presence, but with her, I can see pure emotion in your interactions. It’s nice to see how much you care about her.”

  It’s way too late for this conversation, and I don’t plan on sharing anything personal about myself with Paisley, anyway.

  “You should probably head up and get some sleep. I’m turning in.”

  Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heels. I take only a few steps before I’m stopped. The smash of glass being broken is followed by a scream that Paisley lets out from deep within her lungs. I spin to find Paisley staring wide eyes at a brick in the middle of the floor surrounded by shards of glass.

  “Go wake Kai. Tell him to grab a gun and come find me out back. Then go up to Teagan’s room and lock the door. Neither of you
come out until Kai or I come get you!”

  She stands, still presumably in shock. I need her to move so I can too.

  “Paisley! Do you hear me? Go!” She nods and her feet finally take route.

  Without another thought, I head outside. Into the dark. Chasing after the unknown.

  Paisley

  What. In. The. Fuck. Just. Happened?

  A brick catapulted through the window narrowly missing my head! I take two steps and then stop. I’m still in shock as I watch Burke run from the house in nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs. Anxiety fills me. Is this a juvenile prank or something more?

  I look down at the mess of glass on the floor and the pool of red liquid collecting at my feet. I must have stepped on glass, but I don’t feel anything. While looking down at the abundance of shiny shards that came from the very window I was looking out before Burke came downstairs, I zero in on the brick, which has a manila enveloped strapped to it. A name is written across the outside in thick, black letters. My name. I bend down to retrieve it. It takes some effort, but I manage to free the envelope before I drop the brick back to the floor. Before I open this, I need to go get Kai. It’s a wonder the noise didn’t wake him already. Burke ran out there by himself to face who knows what, and I need to fill Kai in on what’s going on. Problem is, I don’t know which bedroom is his. So I decide to find him in the timeliest way I can think of.

  “KAI! KAI! Wake up!” I scream at the top of my lungs.

  I’m scrambling toward where most of the bedrooms are in this house, screaming for him like a lunatic. As I reach the hallway, Kai, looking disheveled, bursts out of one of the rooms to my right. In a better circumstance I’d have something really smart to say since he just ran out into the hallway completely naked. I’m totally getting my gift of revenge for my towel incident, and it’s at the most inopportune time.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Kai doesn’t seem embarrassed in the least to be standing before me in his birthday suit. He’s obviously half awake, but he stands proud, showcasing the hard ridges and edges of his body.