Free Withstanding Me by Crystal Spears Page B

sure known of my brothers caught her saying my real name and I inwardly sigh in relief when I notice no one did.
    “Hey Apple,” I smirk back.
    “Fuck you,” she laughs, taking a bite of her pizza.
    She looks just as yummy as that pizza. She’s dressed down, and I decide right there that Storm looks fucking fantastic in gray sweats rolled to her knees and a white wife beater with some tennis shoes. Not to mention her hair is piled on top of her head all messy, and she’s not wearing any makeup. Yeah, that natural beauty thing she’s got going on isn’t good for my dick. It’s already standing at full alert, stressing against my jeans.
    “You ready for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow?”
    Yes, baby keep talking wedding shit, so my cock stops throbbing for your touch.
    “Do I look like I’m ready?” I say back as I take a bite of my hot wing. Shit, that’s so fuckin good.
    “No. Not at all,” she answers back as she tries handing me a napkin.
    “I don’t need that damn napkin; give me your tongue,” I tease her, causing her eyes to go wide. She finally snaps out of her shock and throws the napkin at me.
    “Horny bastard,” she giggles uncomfortably.
    Damn. She has pizza sauce on the corner of her mouth. What to do, what to do?
    I lean into her, causing her to gasp as my face comes closer and closer with hers. She shutters, closing her eyes and I drag my pierced tongue along the side of her mouth. Pizza sauce and Storm. Fuck. So damn delicious.
    “Mason,” she whispers and my cock hardens more. “Please don’t do that unless you’re ready.”
    Dammit! Way to spoil the mood Storm. I back away from her, picking up my plate, and stand up. I’m not fuckin ready for no damn commitment. I can’t look at her; I know if I do, I’ll just be pissed off with myself. I hate the hurt looks I always cause to show up on her beautiful face. I walk over to the trashcan and toss my paper plate. Everyone is laughing, smiling, and fuck if I don’t wanna be one of those people right now. My prepay buzzes in my pocket and I dig it out as I walk back inside the building, the cold air almost stealing my breath. Damn that air conditioner kicks ass in here. Better than the one in the damn clubhouse building.
    “Dillan,” I say into my phone as I sit on the couch and dig out a smoke.
    “ZZ, it’s Juan. I’ve been tryin to reach your Prez and VP, and they’re not answerin. I got some info on that shootin at the restaurant.”
    What the fuck? Why wouldn’t they answer their goddamn phones? It’s just a damn pizza dinner.
    “Let me hear it,” I grumble lighting up my smoke.
    “The hit came from the east coast; word is there’s a pretty big penny sittin on five gals’ heads.”
    Two things replay over and over after he tells me this. East coast and five gals.
    “The hits, who is on the hit list?” I all but yell into my phone as I make my way back outside. I throw the door open, and all heads turn towards me. I point to my phone with the hand holding my cigarette in it. Braxxon digs out his phone, automatically knowing he’s missed an important phone call. He jumps up and makes his way over to me.
    “I’ll send the photos to your prepay. Have my money delivered to me.” Juan says, waiting for me to hang up.
    “I’ll send a prospect.”
    I hang up the phone as Braxxon shuts the door behind us.
    “What did Juan say?” Braxxon asks.
    “Five hits and they’re from the east. He’s sending photos to my phone.”
    Braxxon nods and reopens the door leading to the courtyard, motioning for a prospect. Once the prospect comes in, Braxxon closes the door.
    “Prez.” He greets.
    Braxxon starts firing off as he digs out money from his wallet. “Take this money to the location I’m about to text your prepay. Follow the instructions I send with the text.”
    The prospect takes the money with a nod and starts walking off as Braxxon starts rapid texting from his prepay.
    My phone dings and I take a deep breath to see who