Romance: North: (Hot New Adult Bad Boy Romance, Alpha Male Rock Star Rebel Romance) (Contemporary Mystery and Romantic Suspense Short Stories) by Jade Allen
Authors: Jade Allen
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himself. If we were really lucky, Big J would make an appearance; if not him, then someone higher up in the rankings than the dealers who just hung out at the club.
The cops would be waiting to pounce, at least ideally. Nick and Jules were going to another club that hosted some of Big J’s dealers, and Dan and Mark were going to be at a third. The hope was that with the buddy system in place—and with police backup waiting discreetly for each pair of cold Charleys—that we’d manage to not get ourselves killed. I had to wonder just how safe any of us actually was with such a spur-of-the-moment plan.
“Yes, I’ve been to Vagabond before,” Mary said, carefully following the line of her eyelashes with a black pencil. She turned to face me. “I’m not some goody two-shoes, you know.” I grinned. Unlike her normal, everyday makeup, Mary had chosen—and I couldn’t exactly say she was wrong—a bold, stark look for our night out: dark shadows framed her eyes with a flicker of green at the edges, and her lips were painted bright red. She looked both completely familiar and utterly new.
“What with your mom and all, I figured you for the type to never pick up a drink or anything like that,” I said with a shrug. Mary rolled her eyes, turning back to face the mirror. I tried not to let my gaze go directly to the tantalizing curve of her ass, the shape only accentuated by the tight skirt she wore. Is she even wearing anything under that? It doesn’t look possible. You’d see some kind of line somewhere if she was…fuck, she’s saying something, pay attention.
“I do drink on occasion, I go to shows, I’ve even—gasp—tried a few different drugs. I know, huge shock.” Mary met my gaze in the mirror.
“What have you tried?” I was intrigued at the idea of Mary, dressed much as she was right now, in the bathroom of Vagabond doing a line or two. Or maybe she was more of an E girl? Mary shrugged, applying mascara carefully to her eyelashes.
“I’ve smoked pot, and one of my friends got her hands on some 2C-E one semester and we tried it.” I looked at her with more respect.
“Psychedelics, very nice. Ever try E?”
Mary made a face. “It never seemed to be a good trade-off for me,” she said, pulling back to admire and evaluate her work. “Oh—I did try glass, once. Not being able to sleep the rest of the night and having to sit through my friend’s toddler’s birthday party with that hangover firmly settled the idea that it wasn’t worth it.”
I laughed. “Should’ve asked whoever gave you the blow for a little bit for the road,” I suggested. “Or smoked a little pot to mellow out.” Mary made a face again, and turned to face me. Don’t stare at her tits. Don’t. She’ll slap the shit out of you if you do.
“Are you even serious right now?” she asked me, crossing her arms over her chest; that only made the precarious struggle I was dealing with to avoid staring at her full breasts, straining at the neckline of her top, all the worse. “That is terrible fucking advice.” I swallowed against the tight, dry feeling in my throat. It was a mix of how completely delicious Mary looked—and how much I wanted her—and the very real fear that we were going to our deaths.
“Are you wearing anything under that skirt?” Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at the question, and her cheeks went pink in a way that had nothing to do with the little bit of color she’d painted on them.
“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips together as she looked down at the floor.
“Really? I don’t believe you.”
Mary’s blush deepened and she met my gaze. “Seriously? You want to fuck right now?” Her voice was strained.
I shrugged. “It’s another hour until we need to leave anyway; might as well kill some time.” I licked my lips. I wanted to reach out, pull her skirt up, and see for myself if she was telling the truth.
“Were you this horny when you were using?” Mary asked me, her arms
The cops would be waiting to pounce, at least ideally. Nick and Jules were going to another club that hosted some of Big J’s dealers, and Dan and Mark were going to be at a third. The hope was that with the buddy system in place—and with police backup waiting discreetly for each pair of cold Charleys—that we’d manage to not get ourselves killed. I had to wonder just how safe any of us actually was with such a spur-of-the-moment plan.
“Yes, I’ve been to Vagabond before,” Mary said, carefully following the line of her eyelashes with a black pencil. She turned to face me. “I’m not some goody two-shoes, you know.” I grinned. Unlike her normal, everyday makeup, Mary had chosen—and I couldn’t exactly say she was wrong—a bold, stark look for our night out: dark shadows framed her eyes with a flicker of green at the edges, and her lips were painted bright red. She looked both completely familiar and utterly new.
“What with your mom and all, I figured you for the type to never pick up a drink or anything like that,” I said with a shrug. Mary rolled her eyes, turning back to face the mirror. I tried not to let my gaze go directly to the tantalizing curve of her ass, the shape only accentuated by the tight skirt she wore. Is she even wearing anything under that? It doesn’t look possible. You’d see some kind of line somewhere if she was…fuck, she’s saying something, pay attention.
“I do drink on occasion, I go to shows, I’ve even—gasp—tried a few different drugs. I know, huge shock.” Mary met my gaze in the mirror.
“What have you tried?” I was intrigued at the idea of Mary, dressed much as she was right now, in the bathroom of Vagabond doing a line or two. Or maybe she was more of an E girl? Mary shrugged, applying mascara carefully to her eyelashes.
“I’ve smoked pot, and one of my friends got her hands on some 2C-E one semester and we tried it.” I looked at her with more respect.
“Psychedelics, very nice. Ever try E?”
Mary made a face. “It never seemed to be a good trade-off for me,” she said, pulling back to admire and evaluate her work. “Oh—I did try glass, once. Not being able to sleep the rest of the night and having to sit through my friend’s toddler’s birthday party with that hangover firmly settled the idea that it wasn’t worth it.”
I laughed. “Should’ve asked whoever gave you the blow for a little bit for the road,” I suggested. “Or smoked a little pot to mellow out.” Mary made a face again, and turned to face me. Don’t stare at her tits. Don’t. She’ll slap the shit out of you if you do.
“Are you even serious right now?” she asked me, crossing her arms over her chest; that only made the precarious struggle I was dealing with to avoid staring at her full breasts, straining at the neckline of her top, all the worse. “That is terrible fucking advice.” I swallowed against the tight, dry feeling in my throat. It was a mix of how completely delicious Mary looked—and how much I wanted her—and the very real fear that we were going to our deaths.
“Are you wearing anything under that skirt?” Mary’s eyes widened in surprise at the question, and her cheeks went pink in a way that had nothing to do with the little bit of color she’d painted on them.
“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips together as she looked down at the floor.
“Really? I don’t believe you.”
Mary’s blush deepened and she met my gaze. “Seriously? You want to fuck right now?” Her voice was strained.
I shrugged. “It’s another hour until we need to leave anyway; might as well kill some time.” I licked my lips. I wanted to reach out, pull her skirt up, and see for myself if she was telling the truth.
“Were you this horny when you were using?” Mary asked me, her arms
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