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  • Kisses and Warfare: A Enemies to Lovers Standalone Romance. Page 5

Kisses and Warfare: A Enemies to Lovers Standalone Romance. Read online

Page 5


  “As long as it’s consensual, I don’t care.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.” Then he heads out of my office, leaving me sitting here confused as fuck.

  My phone starts ringing again. Private number flashes. I press ignore and remove my jacket, getting to work.

  By the end of the night, Blaze hasn’t left his seat. His men have gone from woman to woman and he’s sat exactly where he is and hasn’t moved one inch. I can see him on my cameras, and believe me, I have watched because he’s intriguing. He hasn’t touched any of my girls, even when they have thrown themselves at him. Instead, he’s sat there watching and not speaking.

  The lights come on, signaling the end of the night, and I stay where I am in my office as people are told to leave. I watch as they stand as a group and all head toward the door. I flick my computer off as the door to my office opens.

  Looking up, Blaze is standing there.

  “You can’t be back here.”

  He bites his bottom lip and doesn’t move or speak.

  “Leave,” I say, standing and walking toward him. He watches me, and when I reach him, I say, “You hard of hearing now?”

  “Do you ever shut up?” he finally says.

  I cross my arms over my chest. “When something is worth shutting up for. And you, sir, are not that. Now… leave.”

  “How do you know I’m not?”

  “Because men like you are all the same. One bastard even made me pregnant,” I say, referring to men who like to take what they can and fuck the consequences. Blaze is one of them! I bet he gets what he wants all the time. He is, after all, the president of the MC. And always with that fucking vest on, which I am sure gets him whatever the hell he wants.

  I would burn it on him if he didn’t look so good.

  “Weren’t you meant to make me fall in love with you?” he asks.

  “I changed my mind. You aren’t worth my trouble.”

  “All because I kicked you out,” he says while shaking his head. “You really are highly tempered.”

  “Again, you can leave now.”

  “After one kiss,” he says with a husky voice.

  I back up, my eyes bulging from my head. “Excuse me? I don’t think I heard that quite right.”

  “One kiss, and I’ll go. That is, if you choose not to come back with me.”

  Holy shit! He did not just say that.

  “One kiss?” I repeat. “And you’ll leave?”

  “Yes.”

  I lean forward, aiming for his lips, and at the last second, move to kiss his cheek. It’s rough against his beard, and I quickly pull back before I have time to smell him.

  “Okay, leave, now.”

  He nods his head and turns, walking out. He’s gotten what he wanted.

  And I got? Fuck! Another confused head.

  Has he switched the tables?

  And is it his turn to fuck with my head as I have been trying to fuck with his?

  Dammit! I sure as shit hope not.

  Fred is waiting for me as I close up, and he holds the door open.

  “Miss.” I turn to look up at him. “You know who those men are, right?” I nod. “Okay, good. Just wanted to check.” Fred walks me to my car which is parked next to his. “Have a good day, Miss.”

  I slide into my car and head straight home. When I arrive, Rochelle is asleep on the couch with Marcus behind her, his hand over her belly as he cocoons her from behind. I don’t turn on any lights and head off to find a blanket to throw over them. When I reach them, Rochelle opens her eyes.

  “You’re home.” I smile at her. “She was an angel.”

  Marcus grips her harder, and she smiles at me.

  “Blaze rang earlier, heard him say your name again.” She yawns. I look behind her to see Marcus, who’s now looking at me. “Night, sis.” Rochelle turns and tucks her head into Marcus’s shoulder and falls quickly back to sleep.

  “What’s his number?” I ask Marcus.

  Marcus hands me his cell with Blaze’s number on the screen. I quickly take it down and walk up to my room, shutting the door behind me. Dialing his number, he answers straight away.

  “Stop telling your brother my business.”

  “What?” I get yelled at, and in the background all I can hear is music and people screaming.

  “Keep your mouth shut about what I do. Actually, just keep me off your lips altogether,” I say into the phone.

  “Katarina, he mentioned you kept it all a secret. Why would that be?” he teases into the phone. “You know what would keep my lips sealed? If you came here and sat on them.”

  “You’re a real Fuck-knuckle. You know that, right?”

  “Fuck-Knuckle? Did you just make that up? How about a word for horny, because now I am in my room as you talk, and my hand is on my cock. Tell me, Katarina… tell me what else you would call me.”

  “You have very large issues.”

  “Issues I’m sure your mouth could fix by sucking my cock.”

  “Goodbye, Blaze.” I go to hang up as he speaks, “Whisper my name, Katarina,” he says in a voice so husky it drives me crazy.

  “Fuckhead,” I say, then hang up as quickly as I can.

  Getting up and checking on Annabelle, I leave her where she is curled up in a ball in a blissful sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Blaze

  “We’re not going,” I say to Snow, who wants to go back to that fucking strip joint. I need to stay away. She’s consuming my every fucking thought with her sweet little vicious mouth.

  “Okay, well… you need to go and handle Lance before we have another situation that will involve the authorities,” Snow, my vice president, says. This issue was brought up at church, and it was decided we will wait to see what comes of it. Seems Lance doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, and soon that trouble he’s brewing will be coming our way.

  “He’s connected to them. His brother is a detective. So, you can’t get rid of him as easy, if he was to cause us trouble,” Snow points out.

  I run a hand through my hair. “Send Marley, and you go with him, plus a prospect. See if you can get him to keep his damn mouth shut before we end up shutting it for him.”

  Snow nods.

  “Blaze.” I look up at him. “Do you plan to tell her you bought the club?”

  I sit back down. My bedroom isn’t much, but it’s mine, and not many people are allowed in here. However, Snow’s as close to me as my real brother.

  “No, not yet,” I say, standing, pulling my shirt off, and putting on a new one.

  “You won’t be able to keep it from her for long. She does run that place tight. All the girls listen to her.”

  I know. Steve told me she runs a tight ship, and the old owners gave her full authority to do as she pleased, as long as she turned a good profit. And the books prove the minute she was back the profit was there. So why change a leopard’s spots if you don’t have to? And I don’t want to. If she can continue to make money in that place, she doesn’t need to know I own it now. “Be careful with that one. Her sister made your brother fall in love.” Snow chuckles as he walks out.

  Getting changed and onto my bike, I go straight to where I know Marcus will be. The boys know him as Reap, and they’re all aware he is my brother, even if he chooses to hardly speak to any of them. He isn’t a member, even when I asked him to be years and years ago. He doesn’t like our lifestyle and prefers his own, but he hangs around a fair bit.

  The drive to the crematorium is distracting and comforting. The sky is dark but the stars are glittering, and I wonder if this is all that there is to life. Is this what the best version of me will ever be?

  Kick standing my bike, I place my helmet on the seat and walk around the back of the crematorium. Opening the door, his music is playing, but he looks up as I enter, and when he does he doesn’t stay looking for long. Marcus drops his head and goes back to what he was doing. The last time I saw him do what he’s doing today was to the man who raped Tanika
and threatened Rochelle. Marcus is smooth even in death.

  Leaning against the wall, never going in, I wait. He removes his gloves and mask, then walks out the door and stands in front of me.

  “You bought the place?” is the first thing he asks, referring to the strip club.

  I told him the other night when I mentioned Kat worked there. At the time, I had just signed the contract. I put my offer in the first night I saw Kat there.

  “I did. Is that why you wanted to meet me?” I ask while looking behind him at the dead body, which is still on the counter.

  “No, your father contacted me.” I stiffen at his words.

  My father? What a joke that is.

  Who is he even?

  “He asked me to pass you his number.” Marcus reaches into his pocket, hands me a note with a number on it, then turns and walks back inside.

  “You’re fine with this?” I ask while he slides new gloves on and fixes his mask in place.

  “He’s your father, Blaze. Not mine.”

  He’s right, we have different fathers, but Marcus’s basically raised me. He may be my brother, but no one on this earth has taken as much shit for someone than Marcus has for me. And believe me, I was a fucking little shit myself.

  “I don’t want to see him.”

  He shrugs and turns up the music, effectively ending our conversation. He knows I won’t go into that room. I kick the door and walk out, getting back on my bike to burn off steam.

  Fuck this!

  Fuck him!

  My father is as useless as two shits. Literally. Shits could possibly be more useful. At least you can use shit for fertilizer. My father, he does nothing but suck all the good energy out of a room and blames the person next to him for doing so.

  Chapter Nine

  Kat

  “Okay, Mom has Annabelle tonight. Tomorrow I don’t work. So, what’s the plan? Can I come into your work, and you feed me alcohol all night, as I dance the night away until which time you will finish, then proceed to take me home?” Rochelle asks, leaning forward, watching me with eager eyes in my bathroom mirror as I apply my makeup.

  “No,” I say to her.

  She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest. “Why the big secret? Take me with you. You are the manager, right? Where are the sister perks of having a manager somewhere where I can get free alcohol and get drunk?” She pouts at me.

  “Look...” I put down my mascara and turn to her. “I’m going to tell you something, and you can’t judge. You got me?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise but she bobs her head. “Promise me, no judging.”

  Her hand goes to her heart. “No judging, I swear. But if you tell me you’re marrying Blaze, then that’s off the table,” she jokes.

  “The place I work isn’t really a nightclub.” I shrug my shoulders.

  “Ummm… okay, what is it then? You still serve alcohol, do you not?” Rochelle asks, her eyes squinted as she gauges me for an answer.

  “Yeah, we do. It’s a strip club, Roch. That’s why I didn’t want you to know.”

  I watch her as she takes it in. Her eyes bounce back up, and she looks at me confused, as if she is trying to work it all out.

  “You’ve been lying about this?” she finally manages to say.

  “Can you imagine what Mom will say if she knows?” I ask her.

  Her hand goes up and she shakes it in my face. “But you couldn’t tell me?” She steps back. “Okay, I’m bewildered. Why would you keep something like that a secret? Are you a stripper?” she asks. “I mean, I won’t judge, but are you?” Rochelle’s eyes scan mine, waiting for me to speak.

  “I manage the place, Roch. I wasn’t lying about that. I don’t strip, but I am in charge of the girls who do.” I pick up my mascara again and start applying it. “You can come. I will bring you drinks all night, and you are welcome to dance.”

  Rochelle’s phone bings, and she looks down at it. She squints while reading the message. “Marcus says if I go to your workplace he’s coming.” She looks back up to me. “Does he know where you work?”

  Oh, shit!

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, still not judging, but what a bitch. Seriously, how does he know and I don’t? I am your sister.” Rochelle’s eyebrows pinch together in anger.

  “Because Blaze was there, and I’m guessing he told him.”

  Her mouth forms a perfect O, and she inclines her head.

  “Marcus is on his way to get me. I guess I’ll meet you there,” she says, but I can tell she’s unsure.

  I grab her wrist and squeeze it. “It’s nice, I like it there. Just try to have fun. Some of the girls are lovely,” I tell her.

  “I can do that.” She says eagerly.

  “I have to go, but I will see you in a few hours?” She nods again, and as I walk out, I really hope tonight runs smoothly.

  “Miss, I don’t want to go up on stage tonight,” Silver says, sitting down while she pulls at her silver wig.

  “Why?”

  She opens the bottom of the curtain, looking out as she talks to me. “I just don’t want to. I hate them.”

  I don’t even bother looking out to know who she’s talking about. “Tonight only,” I say, to which she closes the curtain. “Tonight only! You can have off. But just because you don’t like someone, it shouldn’t stop you from working, Silver. Now go and at least attend to one of the private rooms.”

  She nods, jumping up and walking to one of the private rooms out the back.

  Walking out the front, I go straight to the bar and spot my sister and Marcus sitting on one of the stools. It’s not unusual for a woman to be in here with a man. A lot of women bring their significant others in here, but I don’t think that’s the way Rochelle is. Marcus has a possessive hand on her waist as she orders over the bar. He notices me and leans in to whisper something to Rochelle, who turns to face me.

  “You made it,” I say, finally reaching her as Teddy hands her a drink. “No charge, Teddy.” She agrees and walks off, leaving us standing there. Just as I am about to talk, the lights dim, and Sparkle takes to the stage.

  “I’ve never actually been to a strip club before,” Rochelle says, putting her drink to her lips. She turns to Marcus. “Have you?”

  He doesn’t answer, just drops his lips to her neck as she stays on his lap. As if he would admit to that.

  “It’s nice, Kat.”

  “Hey, I need to ask you something.” Rochelle nods, not moving. “Did you tell Blaze my name?”

  Rochelle looks at me confused, her brows pinch together, and then it clicks. “Oh no, no way. You hate it.” She giggles. “Why?”

  “He knows it for some reason,” I say, looking around to see if he’s in here tonight. He isn’t. Thankfully.

  “Ohhh, well, no. I didn’t.” She giggles again. “But that is funny. Did you junk punch him like you did the last boy who called you by your real name?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet,” I say, smiling, remembering the boy in eighth grade who decided it would be funny to use my full name. He never did it again.

  My phone starts ringing, and as I look down, I see it’s a private number. Who the hell is that? Sending them to voicemail, where they never leave a message, I wave to Rochelle. “I have to get back to work.” I look past her to Teddy. “Drinks are free for her tonight,” I say, pointing to Rochelle. Teddy looks to her and nods, then I walk away.

  Heading into my office, I open my computer and see an email from the boss, which is very rare. I hardly hear from him unless banking is late.

  Dear Miss Tulip,

  I am writing to thank you for taking such great care of my club over the last few years. I have never in all my career had someone as good as you. (That includes me.) You take pride in all that you do, and the girls have tremendous respect for you.

  You are probably wondering why I’m writing this letter. Well, the truth is, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you in person or to see the look of disappointment on your face. By no
w you may have heard from the new owner. If not, he may be liking the way you run things and wants to keep everything as is. Which is what I suggested if he wants to keep up the earnings you’re bringing in.

  So, thank you, Kat.

  Thank you for looking after that place as if it were yours.

  I’m finally retiring. I know I should have done this years ago, just like you told me when I hired you. You said there would be no use for me and that you could handle it all. And you were right. So the day has come where I must say goodbye.

  So, thank you.

  And I hope you and the new owner get along.

  I did explain in great detail what a loss it would be to let you go.

  Below is the information on the new owner. He asked me to leave you his cell number if you need anything.

  Yours truly,

  Mark

  THE NEW OWNER’S DETAILS:

  Blaze Stone.

  Reachable on my cell 0491 570 156.

  What the ever-loving fuck.

  I reread it again. Blaze owns my club.

  And not once did he say a word to me about it.

  What an asshole.

  Calling the number on the screen, it picks up within the first few rings. “Hiya, boss.”

  “Ahhh…” he acknowledges. “You know, Katarina?”

  Goddamn! I clench my jaw, trying to bite back swearing at him. He’s now my boss, after all. And I do want to keep my job.

  Fuck!

  “Just thought I should introduce myself, is all.”

  “That’s awfully nice of you. Why don’t you come out and have a drink to celebrate,” he says, hanging up. I look at my cell, confused. Glancing up, I see the screen with the security camera pointed to where my sister is sitting, still with Marcus at the bar, but there’s now a third person with them. Blaze.