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Authors: Jen Cousineau

BOOK: Licentious
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Chapter Twelve

Al
éssandro

 

My Dad’s been on my ass all night about being distracted. Damn straight! My head and eyes have been on the exotic beauty since she walked in.
God, she’s gorgeous
. There’s just something about her. Those eyes, the rare cerulean blue that are almost too much to look at. It’s as if when they’re turned toward you, they’re peering
in
you. I don’t know if I like that. I don’t like
anyone
looking in me. She’s tall and curvy but thin. No, not thin. Toned. Her arms are delicate yet cut, as well as the back muscles that peak through her shirt. Those jeans, God, those jeans could drop a man to his knees with the way they mold to her perfectly sculpted ass.

I could see that she was clearly eye fucking me since the moment she spotted me when she walked in. So I returned the favor. A thick mane of shiny black hair
, perfect for wrapping around my fist and pulling against to expose her the way I want. And her tits, man. Her shirt is loose fitting and yet tight against her rack. Just enough cleavage peeking through to make your mouth water and your dick hard, but not enough that it leaves nothing to the imagination. This woman is pure sex appeal with class. Basing my opinion off her looks and how she carries herself, I place my bet that she’s a sex kitten in between the sheets.

I’ve been watching her all night, barely listening to the
business talk that’s taking place around me. As soon as I heard the word
thug
and then saw kitten motion toward my table, I knew I didn’t like him. The glares and whispering were starting to piss me off. But then seeing her reaction to the prick she was with calmed me. She doesn’t know us, and yet she’s standing up for us. That’s not exactly something that happens every day around here unless you’re from here. And unless you’re
known
.

“Are you listening,
Alé?” Dad asks frustrated. I don’t blame him. He’s had to pull me back to them quite a bit tonight.

“Yes, Sir,” I tell him before taking a drink of my Castello Lager. One of the main reasons we continue to frequent this bar, it’s one of the only places in the city that will serve an Italian beer.
Returning it to the table, I look back up and see kitten walking toward us, her eyes sweeping slowly across everyone seated.

Stopping just before she would be touching the edge of the table with her thighs, she sets her clear glass of pink liquid down on the table top
, and then her bluesy voice pierces the air.

“Hi
.” She smiles as her eyes meet all of ours. “I’m Joey. May I join you for a few minutes?”

I can’t help but stare,
and then I think better of it, and move my eyes to the prick that she met here earlier. His pale green eyes are shooting daggers at her back.
Ah, lover boy is jealous.

“Well, hello, Joey,” Dad laughs. It’s not every day that people come up to us the way she just did. This
chick has some balls on her. “Of course, of course,” he starts to slide across the seat, causing all of us to slide closer together, making room for
Joey
to sit in his original place.
Joey
? What kind of parents would give such a beautiful woman a man’s name? “I’m Frank,” he introduces himself holding out his hand for her to shake. She obliges with a huge smile on her face. “Quite a grip for such a delicate woman,” Dad comments as he pulls his hand away.

Joey reaches for her drink, takes a sip and then clears her throat.

“Actually, I’m not that delicate,” she smiles. “I actually… God, now that I think about it, this is probably going to come off as rude,” she says aloud, but more to herself than to any of us.

“Well, then maybe you should just go back to where you came from,” my cousin Nikolas sneers. Looking over at him, I see his eyes narrowed in her direction. Dad’s old school
and has beliefs and values that he relentlessly tries to instill in everyone else. Nikolas, however, prefers people to fear him. He thinks he’s more powerful that way.

“Nikolas, we don’t treat women with such disrespect,” I chastise him with a shake of my head.

“Alé is right, Nikolas. Maybe it is
you
that needs to leave,” Uncle Jack orders.

Nikolas’ eyes peer into Jack
’s eyes with malice filling them. “Really?”

“Yes, Nikolas, really. We have rules. Beliefs. And until you start practicing them, maybe you’re not ready to join us during these activities,” Uncle Jack tells him. “Go on,” he waves his hand from Nikolas to the door. Without another word, Nikolas stands quickly, knocking his empty beer bottle onto the table before trudging toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” Joey cuts in before sucking her plump bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems. I didn’t realize this was a closed party,” she announces as she places her hands on the table, displaying her long, thin,
ringless
fingers. She starts to slide her body to escape the booth, but Dad places his hand on top of hers.

“It’s quite all right, Joey. Nikolas just has some things
he needs to work on. What can we do for you tonight?” he asks genuinely.

“Act
ually, I was just wondering,” she pauses, her voice slightly wavering, whether from the alcohol or from nerves I’m unsure, “are you gentlemen thugs?”

Is she serious? Her pool blue eyes sweep over us as she continues to chomp on her lip. I can’t help it
—I burst out laughing, causing the others to join in.

“Joey,” I say, “first
of all—who, in their right mind, would name such a beautiful woman after a boy?”

“It’
s a nickname,” she tosses back, her gaze challenging me.

“So, technically,
your real name, in fact, is
not
Joey. That’s a relief to know,” I tell her with a smirk as I sit back into the booth cushion.

She crosses her arms in front of her, resting them on the table
, supporting some of her weight on them. She then inches forward and asks, “And why is that exactly?”

“Because he doesn’t want to be saying a dude’s name when he’s fucking you later,”
Tommy decides to join in. Frankly, that comment has my fist clenching. I was itching to deck him in his mouth. Do I want to fuck her? Damn straight. But we were raised better than that.

“Tommy,” Uncle Jack warns, causing Tommy to duck his head.

“Actually, I just really don’t care for women who have boys’ names,” I try to correct Tommy’s disrespect.

“Who says we give a shit what you care for?” she throws back at me. Before I can even think of something to retort with, Uncle Jack and Dad are sitting next to her cackling like mother hens, patting her on the back.
She’s not that funny.

“Care to share what your real name is?” I ask.

“Not really,” she shrugs as she bites down on the straw of her drink. “Care to share what Alé is short for?” she raises a brow at me.

“Aléssandro,” I tell her. Our eyes never leave each
other. “Your turn.” I nod. She shrugs in response as she takes another drink, turning her attention to Dad and Uncle Jack.
Really
?

“So tell me, Joey. What’s your classification of a thug?” Uncle Jack asks before taking a drink from his lager.

She tips her head slightly to the left, her brow pinched. “Well, that’s easy. Someone who kills for the joy of it. Someone who’s greedy and selfish. Mean,” she shrugs as if it’s that simple. “Basically, someone who only acts with themselves in mind. Does whatever they want just to get ahead. You know,” she gestures with her hands, “gangster. Thug. Mobster. Whatever you want to call it.”

Tommy chokes on his drink, the rest of us keeping our poker faces on, until Dad erupts with laughter. I don’t know why, but Dad seems to have taken a liking to her. There’s something about this kitten, though. The way she carries herself. She acts
as if she doesn’t give a shit, but you can see passion and fire behind her eyes threatening to break free. She’s sexy, yet laid-back. There’s a twinge of loneliness and sadness hiding behind her tough exterior. It appears that she’s constantly trying to hide behind this wall—this façade. There’s something about her that calls to me, pulling me in. I want to know more about her.

“So, tell me what it is that you were out celebrating tonight.” Dad turns his body slightly to her. “I saw your friend come in and you all celebrating with shots.”

“Oh!” She says with a nod, taking a drink from her mixer before setting it back on the table. “My friend Addison, we’re celebrating that her divorce was finalized today,” she says happily.

“Since when is divorce a good thing?” Tommy asks taken aback.

“Well, when you’re married to someone that breaks your heart on a regular basis, cheats on you, gives you STD’s and makes you cry more than he makes you smile,” she throws back sarcastically with steel, “then I’d say it’s a damn good thing!” She raises her cup in the air as a silent
‘cheers’ before taking another drink. I can’t help but smile at her attitude. Especially toward Tommy. He’s not exactly used to being on the receiving end of it, but he may have just met his match.

“So, you obviously think that we’re thugs,” Uncle Jack starts with an amused smile
. “What is it that you do? Professionally, of course.”

“I’m a personal trainer,” she
nods, “but let’s just be clear,” she sits up slightly, crossing her arms on the edge of the table, “
I
don’t think you’re thugs. My friend does.”

“Well, at least she’s honest,” Tommy shrugs
, “but let me ask
you
this,” he mimics her body language, “...don’t you think if we were thugs that we would do something to you
or
your friend to prove it?” Is he fucking serious right now?

She laughs.
Laughs
. “Yeah, I guess that’s a possibility. But,” she holds up a finger, “your reaction to the question is an answer in itself,” she says with a wink.

“And what is your conclusion?” I ask. I don’t want to be classified as a
thug, so I hope she doesn’t think we’re thugs.

“I’ll let you know
.” She winks again.

“So you’re a personal trainer, huh?” Dad sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes, sir. My friend Cameryn and I opened our own studio right out of college.” So she works with this douchebag on a daily basis? I don’t like that. At all.

“Do you enjoy it?
Is it what you love to do?” he asks sincerely.

“Love?”
She shrugs as she teeters her hand back and forth a few times. “But I have to work out anyway, so might as well help other people in the process.”

“How many people a day do you train?” Uncle Jack asks.

“Depends on the day. Usually anywhere from three or more. But a few times a year I also hold classes at the studio.”

“Joey! Hey!” a guy resembling more of a douche bag comes up to the table, wide grin splitting for her. My eyes find Cameryn and I notice that his eyes are now focused on shooting daggers at this guy instead of me. Looking back at Joey, she seems frozen in thought.

“Hi,” she smiles tentatively.

“You never gave me your number the last time I saw you
.” He smiles as he runs a hand through his long, medium brown hair. If I were a girl, I’d see the appeal,
kinda¸
but looking at him, I can’t help but smile wide. Joey is looking a bit uncomfortable, and this guy is clueless to the brush off he received when he
didn’t get her number
. Poor sucker. You’d think by looking at him that he would be used to that trick a time or two.

“Oh
.” Her brows furrow and she chews on that lip for a few seconds. Pink slowly stains her cheeks. “I actually don’t have a phone. So… can’t give you a number.” She shrugs as she holds her cup with one hand and her straw in the other, slightly chewing on the tip of it.
Does she even know how sexy she looks right now?
If you’re giving a brush off, you can’t be sexy while doing it.

“Oh, that’s cool. I had such a great time, I was hoping to see you again, but when I woke up the next morning you were gone,” he announces as Joey starts to choke on her drink. Dad reaches over and rubs her back.

“You okay?” Dad asks her.

She gives a small nod and a few more coughs, before
smiling back. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“So are you going to introduce us to your friend,
Joey
?” I ask with a smile. It’s obvious either she doesn’t remember him
or
at least his name or she didn’t plan to ever see him again.

“Oh! Yeah…
this is… uh…” she bites her lip at the bottom corner before shaking her head, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t remember—”

“You don’t remember me? Or you don’t remember my name?” he growls.

“Both,” she shrugs.

“We met
a month ago at the downtown bar crawl. We ended up joining forces to get through it and then you spent the rest of the night with me,” he says in disbelief. Anger and embarrassment covering his face.
How could she not remember spending an entire night with someone?

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