Hot Honey Kisses: 3:AM Kisses 17 Read online

  To make it worse, he’s forever leering at other girls with that greasy grin. I don’t know how she can stand to be around him, let alone allow him to have his way with her mouth—and according to her, that’s all he’s had his way with.

  Lucky for the both of us, I feel close enough to Harley to openly threaten bodily harm in the event she decides to lose her mind and open her legs. I explicitly told her that the boy toy he has swinging between his own legs is firmly verboten. This is non-negotiable if she wants to keep being my roommate. Under no circumstances is that hairy, scary womanizer allowed behind our closed door. I don’t care if her bed is a solid six feet from my own. I’m not sharing air space with that professional pelvic grinder. He’s just going to have to get his jollies off elsewhere because I’ve all but placed a chastity belt on Harley’s West Virginia.

  I can’t help but giggle to myself as I land my order on the cook’s counter. Shep’s verbal slipup still cracks me up. West Vagina. No wonder that boy made his way to the dirty side of Jepson. He was looking to get L-U-C-K-Y. Which also happens to be the name of the girl I’m serving.

  Seated at my one and only functioning table is Lucky Madden and her best friend, Ava. They’re older than me by a few years, but I’ve seen them around campus. Lucky is dating Lawson Kent, and Ava is with Grant Jones. Both of those boys are good friends with Eli. In fact, all three are in the back right now shooting up those pool tables.

  I gave Eli the details about my app, and he said he could get it done, but it might take longer than I needed. Something about getting lawyers involved because of consent issues. And then, he reassured me that it wouldn’t be a problem because we have a lawyer on our side—Shepherd Collins.

  I swear, there is less than six degrees of separation between Shep and me, always have been. It’s a bit creepy when you get down to it. I mean, we’re not family. Not technically. In fact, we’re not even friends. And we sure as hell are absolutely nothing else.

  My stomach tenses in knots. Those kisses burn through me with the intensity of ten thousand suns, and suddenly I’m weak at the knees. Damn Shep and his magic lips for inflicting me with such a mesmerizing experience. In truth, I had never been kissed that way. There is not one boy on this planet who had the butterflies in me fluttering like mad while he sealed his mouth over mine and made me his in every way. And the way he lifted my arms and bound them, the way his eyes never left mine—that entire walk on the wild side is far too intense for me to deal with right now.

  No sooner do I turn around than my orders are up, and I take the tray over to where Lucky and Ava are laughing to the point of tears. In a strange way, it makes me miss Sunday. Of course, I still have Sunday in my life, but now that she’s with Seth—and I mean really with, it’s hard for her to find some solo time, let alone time to spend with me.

  “Here you go, girls. One heaping plate of everything-but-the-kitchen-sink nachos.” I pluck some extra napkins out of my apron and flop them down on the table. “If you need anything else, just give me a holler.”

  Ava leans in and twitches her nose. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Anything. Shoot.”

  Ava is adorable with her loose waves and bright personality. I don’t think there’s a human on Earth who wouldn’t be warmed by that megawatt smile. Lucky, on the other hand, is a dark beauty with a mean look that can slit your throat all on its own, but she’s the kindest soul to ever walk the planet. The two of them really do remind me a heck of a lot of Sunday and me.

  “What was it like?” she whispers so low it forces me to lean in. What was what like? The club? That fabulous kiss I shared with Shep? Rooming with Harley, which is sort of an ongoing thing? “You know, when you found the body.”

  Oh, that. I return to an upright, uptight position. Crap. I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be pegged in a hole by an entire group of people—let alone the school. Would I be the it girl? The party girl? The sorority slut? Although to mitigate those last two hurdles, I would’ve had to have actually joined a sorority and crested more than first base with a boy. But now it’s all coming in clear as those crystal chandeliers gracing the ceiling over at that dicey club I was roped into and in. From this summer on, I’ll forever be known as the girl who found the body.

  “It was… I don’t know, strange.”

  Lucky nods. “Were you terrified?”

  “Not really. I mean, thank God I wasn’t alone. My friend Shep was with me.” My friend? Fine. I’ll let it slide just this once. “Anyway, once Shep rolled him over and we saw that he was riddled with bullets, I sort of went numb.”

  Ava slaps her hand over the table. “You were in shock!”

  Lucky bites down mischievously over her bottom lip. “Good thing you had that strong, dark, and handsome, might I mention, newly available powerhouse attorney there to protect you.”

  A dark laugh rumbles from my throat. “I don’t need a man to protect me. I certainly don’t need Shep.”

  Ava’s mouth goes slack. “So, you’re not a couple? People say that suffering through traumatic experiences like that with someone really brings you closer.”

  I can’t help but avert my eyes at the thought. “We’re definitely not a couple. In fact, it did the polar opposite. It seems all Shep and I have done since D-day—D as in dead body, is nothing but argue.” It’s true. But now that I think about it, Shep and I have never really spoken much before this. I haven’t exactly been a saint to him ever since the night of my fourteenth birthday, but I bet Shep is too big of a buffoon to even realize that I’m still pissed or why. Shep can be an idiot that way.

  Lucky moans as if my words had mortally wounded her, and she should really watch it because, apparently, my presence has been known to be lethal.

  “I was sort of hoping something would come out of this for the two of you.” Lucky shrugs apologetically. “I mean, the guy is totally hot.”

  Ava gives an eager nod as she picks up a chip off the platter. “He’s smokin’. But if you’re not into him, you’re not into him.”

  Lucky picks up her own gob of chips dripping with the runny goo they pour over that dish by the gallon. “Some girl is going to be mighty thankful that you’re not. I predict he’ll be snatched up by fall.”

  “By the Fourth,” Ava corrects as she crunches down on that first bite.

  A familiar looking powerhouse attorney catches my eye at the door, chatting it up with one of the new hires, a petite blonde named Hunter, and my blood begins to boil. It looks as if her blonde ambition is on the hunt after all.

  “Yeah, well, you girls enjoy your meal.” I take off and snatch Shep by the arm. “Your table is calling,” I toss the words over my shoulder to the stunned waitress who looks as if I just kicked her in the teeth. “And I need a word with you.”

  I shoot a look to Cole, the bartender, and hold up a finger. It’s the Black Bear’s shorthand for I’m taking my break, and he nods in approval.

  I land Shep in a booth and take a seat across from him. Our eyes hook to one another, and we spend an inordinate amount of time filling the gap between us with silence.

  “How’s the app?” He doesn’t bother with a smile. In fact, he looks downright disturbed, and I’m not quite sure why.

  “Eli is looking into it. He says it will most likely take longer than the summer. I’ll need a lawyer.”

  That obnoxious grin glides easy over his face, and suddenly I’m back to being furious with him. Lucky was right. Shep is handsome, and not in some adorable frat boy way, but in a razor’s edge, sexy as hell, five o’clock shadow, owning that Italian suit, he’s got gray matter for days kind of a way. And right now, all of those titillating facts make me a little angrier than I was to begin with.

  Shep flexes that obnoxious smile. “Then I’m your man.”

  “You are most certainly not my man. And would you wipe that cat who swallowed the canary look off your face? It’s really starting to annoy me.”

  “Fine.” He scowls in my honor
. “How’s the drink?” He ticks his head to the bar.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t exactly had time to rob a liquor store, but if you’re up for committing a felony or two, then meet me at George’s Liquor Store at about eleven.”

  Still frowning. I actually think I like him better when he doesn’t look so smugly pleased. “I’d think twice about committing a felony of any kind. Did you happen to catch the news?” He whips out his phone. “They made an arrest in Barry Larson’s murder.”

  I suck in a quick breath and snatch the phone from him. Scanning the article at the speed of light, I quickly glean the gist of it. “A transient, huh?” I expand the photo of the killer and get a good look at his grimy face. “Wait a minute. I recognize him. That’s Jarhead. He’s forever coming around digging through the trash cans. I can’t believe he’s capable of doing something like that. He didn’t seem dangerous at all. My God, I gave him a banana last spring. I fed a killer!” I shake my head at the thought before moaning. “It looks like Dirty Boy gets some justice after all. Well, I’m happy for him.”

  “Dirty Boy?”

  “Yeah, that was my nickname for Barry before he bit the big one. We had this little tussle and—”

  “I know.” His dimples go off, just slightly, no smile, and something about witnessing the action makes my thighs jump in all the right places. “Bryson let me see the video footage.”

  “I thought the police had the video footage?”

  “They do, but he still has digital access to view it.” He takes off the jacket to his suit, and I can’t help but notice how alarmingly wide and solid his chest looks.

  “Well then, the case is solved. How about I bring you a beer and watch you slurp it down in celebration? I’ll grab some fries for myself, and if you promise not to annoy me, I might even give you one.”

  He leans in, a sly smiling creeping up his face just for me, and something about that bad boy look in his eyes makes me want to reach across the table and kiss him. I mean, really kiss him. Like pull him in by the ears and make him do the things to me he did at that sleazy club. I’m still furious that Shep of all people was responsible for the best kisses of my entire life. I could have forgiven anyone of that kissing malfeasance, but not Shep. He can’t get two passes in one lifetime. And in truth, I never really gave him the first.

  “I don’t think he did it. I looked him up. Jarrow Jarhead McDean has no history of violent behavior. He has no access to a firearm. And they didn’t find his prints anywhere at the scene.”

  I can feel the hair prickling on the back of my neck. “Then what are they holding him on?”

  “Suspicion. Questioning. My guess is he’ll be free to go by tonight.”

  “That means the real killer is still on the loose—or if Jarhead somehow stumbled upon a gun and this was indeed a robbery gone wrong, then he’ll be the killer on the loose. I can’t believe someone might actually get away with murder, right here in Hollow Brook.” I clutch at my neck a moment as I study Shep. There’s an air of confidence about him that supersedes his usual obnoxious arrogance. “You know something else, don’t you?” I snatch him by the sleeve and pull him in. “Listen up, mister. If you’re holding evidence from me and I find out about it, I’ll make sure you’ll live to regret it. I was there, too, you know. And by the way, I still work at the scene of the crime! And I happened to be in possession of—”

  “That paper,” he moans. “Where is it, anyway?”

  “In a safe place.” My bra drawer tucked in a corner next to the wedding ring my mother left behind before she took off for good. It’s my only prized possession, and don’t think for a minute I prize it because it belonged to that creature who bore me. It’s simply an insurance policy. Should the time ever come when I’m in a serious financial pinch, I plan on hocking it. “Why? You think it has something to do with it?”

  “Yes, I think it very well might have something to do with it. I’m pretty sure those numbers mean something.”

  “Definitely not a phone number. Although he was at a bar and I bet he frequented them often. Maybe some drunk girl gave it to him?”

  “Or it’s the combination to a safe.”

  My mouth falls open. “Or that. God, he could have had stacks of money in that safe or jewels or guns.”

  “All of the above.” He gently frees his sleeve from my grip and gives my hand a quick tap in the process. “And you’re right. I do know something.”

  “What?”

  He glances at his phone and frowns. “I’ve got a student across town I need to see in five minutes, and then six others after that.” He stands, and I scramble up after him. “How about I pick you up tonight at seven?”

  “For what?” That sweet spot between my thighs gives a little tingle. Down, girl. This is Shep. Not some hot masked man ready to make all your naughty dreams come true. Although, technically, he qualifies for the event.

  “To conduct that liquor store heist.” He glides his jacket back on and gives a quick tug at the lapels. “And then, I’ll fill you in on the rest of Barry’s story. Stay tuned.”

  “You’re a terrible tease.” I make a face just as a thought comes to me. “And hey”—I say, walking away—“I happen to know something, too.”

  “About Barry?” He takes a few stalking steps toward me. “What is it?”

  I offer up a flirtatious nod and bite down on my lower lip to keep from giggling. “Stay tuned, Shepherd Pie. Stay tuned.”

  And that, my friend, is how you maintain the upper hand.

  You keep ’em wanting more.

  And a very salacious part of me is hoping Shep just might want more.

  Seven on the button Shep texts and lets me know he’s at the base of my dormitory, Prescott Hall.

  Harley pulls me back by the elbow. Her hair is neatly curled in long, thick coils, and her makeup is a bit more dramatic than usual. She’s going frat house hopping with Teagan and Colby, the roommates next door who she seems to be spending more and more time with.

  “Are you sure about this? This guy was all over you at the club. What if he gets you to his place and has his way with you?”

  A laugh bubbles from my throat. “Shep is not going to have his way with me. He’s like family.” My gut explodes in a ball of acid at the lie. “Okay, so he’s like a really hot friend—sort of.” Again, my body spikes with heat as if I just spewed another lie in an effort to cover something deliciously dirty up.

  Harley rolls her eyes. Those lashes of hers are so long they have a zip code of their own. “A hot friend who’s offered to take you to his place and liquor you up!”

  “No, not me. I’m making a drink for the bar. And for the record, he was totally kidding. It was my bright idea to hold up the liquor store.”

  She sucks in a quick breath. “Sounds like he’s a bad influence on you.”

  “You missed the part about it being my idea.”

  “Then you’re the bad influence.” She gives a devilish wink before brushing the hair off my shoulders. “Fine. Go on and have a good time with your hot friend.”

  I slap her away. “Trust me, we’re not really friends. In fact, when you get right down to it, he’s nothing more than my professor who I’m heading to a seedy liquor store with.” I give a simple shrug as I bolt out the door, laughing. “Kidding! I promise to avoid and evade all hovels who specialize in housing ethanol!”

  “Serena!” Harley calls after me. “You realize you’re breaking every moral code this school has to offer!”

  “I’ll think up a few more to break before the day is done!” And yet not one of them will be with Shep.

  But those kisses he doled out… my lips are begging for just one more hit.

  I climb into Shep’s fancy ride, and we head up the main road and make a left, landing us at a rather dicey locale that I just promised my roomie I’d avoid like the bathroom of the Black Bear on taco night.

  “George’s Liquor Store?” I look at Shep, and my heart thumps once unnaturally. His dark h
air is slicked back. He’s traded the monkey suit for dark inky jeans and a flannel, and to the undiscerning eye he might qualify as your run-of-the-mill frat boy. But that face, those smoking blue eyes, those bedroom eyes—my God, if his lids hood any lower, he might actually fall asleep. Shep Collins is undeniably gorgeous. This isn’t really news to me, but according to the way my girl parts are pulsating out of control, you’d think I’d just stumbled upon fire for the very first time. And, believe you me, playing around with Shep would very much be like playing with fire.

  “Yes, the liquor store. Where did you think I was taking you?”

  “I don’t know. I thought we’d grab some takeout, then head back to your place and discuss the case. We’ve got information to exchange, remember?”

  “Yes, Detective Maxfield, I do.”

  My insides heat with the newly gifted moniker.

  He winces. “But a part of me wanted to help you out with your project for the Black Bear.” He gives my knee a gentle tap as he opens his door. “Come on. I’m buying.”

  We head on in, and Shep loads up a cart with several brown bottles of every shape, size, and sexual connotation—i.e., brand names such as Badass Bodacious Bourbon, The Other Woman Whiskey, Scantily Scotch, Threesome Tequila. I’m embarrassed at how non-proficient I am in my hard liquor, considering the fact I work at a bar. But being that I’m technically underage, I’m not allowed to serve it. Either one of the bartenders or Baya does it for me.

  Shep continues to fearlessly load the cart before we make our way to the counter.

  “Party tonight?” A jovial older gentleman with a triple chin and a nametag that spells out GEORGE in all caps helps bag our bronzed and boozy treasures. “A wedding maybe?”