Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Journey
The feel of something warm and sweet-smelling lulls me out of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years. Opening my eyes, I glance down and take stock of the situation.
A mess of silky soft blonde hair is spread across my bare chest, a long tan leg is hitched over my thigh, and a delicate hand with pink sparkly nails is curled against my stomach.
My lip turns up at the corner.
June is wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, and fuck me if I don’t like it.
Wait. I wipe the grin from my face. What the hell am I doing?
I don’t sleep with women. I mean, I sleep with them, don’t be fucking dense, but I don’t stay the night. And I sure as shit don’t let them stay longer than it takes to get off.
Get in, get off, get gone.
That’s the rule. That’s how I operate. The last thing I want is bitches to start catching feelings and thinking they have staying power. Fuck that. That’s when shit gets messy.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath, staring at the ceiling.
June shifts in her sleep and rubs her cheek against my chest like a cat. The movement sends a wave of heat straight to my dick.
Jesus.
I slide my leg out from under hers, and slip a pillow under her head as I shimmy her to the other side of the bed.
Just as I’m almost free, her sleepy blue eyes flutter open.
“Morning,” she murmurs, voice raspy with sleep as a sweet smile spreads across her face.
Then suddenly her eyes pop open wide and her cheeks flush that delicious shade of pink when she realizes she’s practically on top of me. She scrambles the rest of the way over to her side of the bed, tugging her t-shirt down over her thighs.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “I didn’t mean to, um, invade your space.”
“It’s fine.” I clear my throat, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My back to her so she can’t see the bulge in my jeans. “Not a big deal.”
It’s a huge fucking deal. I’m pretty sure if her mom hadn’t shown up last night, I would have fucked my sister’s best friend.
I scrub my hands over my face.
Last night was a mistake. Whether from lack of sleep or us being stuck in this sardine can, I don’t know, but it can’t happen again.
“Oh no!” June squawks, scrambling to her feet in the middle of the bed.
“What the—” I glance over my shoulder, brows drawing together in confusion.
June trapezes unsteadily around me and bends, grabbing her phone from the nightstand. “It’s already nine!”
“Yeah, so?”
“I need to film my tutorial!”
My brows snap together. “What?”
She’s already hopping off the bed, giving me another glimpse of that black thong that’s been haunting my dreams.
“Babe,” I groan, adjusting my dick behind my zipper.
“What?” her head whips around.
I wave my hand at her.
She glances down then looks back up. It’s just not clicking.
“Put some pants on.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Sorry.”
She has no fucking clue how tempting her little ass is.
Moving to her dresser, she pulls out a pair of hot pink sweats and slides them up her long legs. She spins around and that’s when I see it like a sign from the Gods. The word QUEEN is written across her ass.
Fuck my life.
“I have to film a tutorial,” she says, answering my earlier question. “I told you I’m trending on Tokker, remember? If I don’t post consistently, I’ll lose my streak and my shot at the Trend Setter Award.”
I watch her every move like a creep as she floats around the apartment, gathering what little makeup survived the break-in.
“And that matters because...?” I’m seriously not understanding what the big damn deal is.
She stops and stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “It matters because the prize money is five thousand dollars, Journey. Five thousand dollars that I really need.” She gestures around the destroyed apartment. “Especially now.”
Holy. Shit. My brows go up. “Five grand just for letting people watch you put makeup on?” I ask skeptically. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” She rolls her eyes, then gives me her back as she sets up the only surviving ring light. “It’s my job, remember? The one you said wasn’t “a real job”?” she says, using her fingers to make air quotes.
Climbing out of bed, I watch her fuss with the angle of the light. “Alright, alright. Point taken.”
“You got coffee?”
She points to the kitchen. “In the canister by the coffee maker.”
“Thanks.” I grunt and head for the coffee pot. As I stand there waiting for the coffee to brew, I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s put a spell on me.
June pops a squat on the floor in front of the camera, takes a deep breath, and it’s like watching someone flip a switch. The girl from last night who was devastated disappears, replaced by this radiant, confident woman who smiles like she’s got the whole world at her feet.
“Hiiiiii, babes! Welcome back to my channel!” she chirps, her voice bright and warm, filling the small apartment.
“Today, we’re doing something a little different.
As some of you might have noticed, I’ve had a bit of an.
.. incident with my makeup collection.” She pans the camera behind her and I can hear the notification tone going wild.
She laughs, and it sounds so natural that you’d never guess she’d literally been crying over spilled perfume last night.
She presses a hand to her heart. “Thanks for all the love, fam! I’m okay, but you know what they say,” she shrugs, “When life gives you lemons, you make margaritas, right? So…” A mischievous grin lights up her face.
“Today, I’m doing a ‘create a full face with only five products’ challenge!
That’s right, guys. Today I’m going to show you how to look fabulous with just the basics. ”
I pour my coffee, but I don’t return to the bed.
I stay leaning against the counter, watching her work.
There’s something mesmerizing about it—not the makeup, she looks better without all that shit, but the way she comes to life.
The passion in her voice when she explains why, whatever the fuck it is she’s doing, works better than something else.
She’s in her element, and it’s a sight to behold.
Something shifts in my chest when it hits me how wrong I’ve been about her.
There’s a hell of a lot more to June Calloway than I realized.
Way fucking more than the superficial Barbie I thought she was.
She’s a survivor. I see it now. The toxic shit with her mom last night, how she didn’t crumble in the face of disaster, she’s a warrior.
A girl who rolls with the punches life dishes out.
I rub at the back of my neck, feeling like a fucking idiot for judging her.
I’m still deep in thought when another notification pings on her laptop screen, visible from where I’m standing. June doesn’t notice it, too absorbed in the gunk she’s smearing on her cheek.
But I see it, and my blood runs cold.
user7284591: How could you let him in your bed?
“Stop the stream,” I say, already on the move. “June, stop it now.”
She glances up with big eyes, a warning for me to shut up.
“I mean it, June. Stop the fucking stream!”
“What? I can’t stop, I’m in the middle of—”
I reach past her and hit the END button on her laptop, killing the feed.
“Hey!” She jumps up from her chair, eyes blazing. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Look.” I point at the message on the screen.
All the color drains from her face as she reads it. “Oh my God.”
“He knows I’m here,” I say, walking over to the window and pulling back the edge of the blinds. “Which means he can see us.”
I glance around the room. There has to be a camera somewhere in here. Grabbing her arm, I pull her away from the windows. “Get dressed. Put on something you can move in.”
“What? Where are we going?” She stumbles after me, still holding her makeup brush.
“Somewhere safe.” I pull out my phone and dial Tacoma.
He answers on the first ring. “Yo.”
“We’ve got a problem,” I tell him, getting straight to the point. “June’s stalker knows I’m here. He’s got cameras in the apartment.”
“Fuck.” Tacoma’s voice is hard. “We need to get you both out of there. I’ll send Gator and Bash to escort you back to the clubhouse.”
“We’ll be ready.” I end the call and turn back to June, who’s standing frozen in the middle of the room with a makeup brush still clutched in her hand.
“June,” I say sharply, snapping her out of it. “Get dressed. Now.”
“You killed my stream,” she whispers, and for a second I start to think she’s going into shock, but then I see the fire in her eyes. “That is my job, Journey. You can’t just take over my life!”
“Not trying to take over shit, princess. I’m trying to keep you alive,” I counter, grabbing the bag Tacoma sent over and pulling out a shirt. “Your content isn’t going to mean shit if this psycho gets his hands on you.”
She throws the makeup brush across the room. “You don’t understand! I need that money to replace all my stuff this asshole destroyed!”
“I’ll buy you new shit,” I snap, yanking the shirt over my head.
“Are you crazy?” She jerks her head back as her voice gets louder. “I can take care of myself!”
Her standing there with her hands balled into fists, chest heaving, blue eyes blazing with righteous fury—something inside me snaps and before I know what I’m doing, I’m in front of her. Sliding one hand into her hair, I yank her head back and crash my mouth down on hers.
She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, her anger transforming into a different kind of heat altogether. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I lift her off the ground, her legs locking around my waist.
“Journey,” she moans against my mouth as I walk us backward until her back hits the wall.
My hands slide under her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her back, the delicate curve of her ribs. She’s so fucking soft. Every place I touch is on fire.
I break the kiss long enough to yank her shirt over her head, tossing it aside.
Her breasts are perfect—small, pert, with rosy nipples that peak in the cool air.
I lower my head, taking one into my mouth, and she arches against me with a moan that nearly makes me come in my jeans like a fucking teenager.
“Please,” she whimpers, grinding against the hard ridge of my cock. “Please, Journey.”
“I got you, princess.” I slide one hand between us, finding the edge of her thong. My fingers brush against her heat, and she’s so wet already, so ready—
BAM! BAM! BAM!
I freeze at the sound of knocking at the door.
“Journey! Open up!” Gator’s voice carries through the wood.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” I groan, dropping my forehead against hers. “Worst. Timing. Ever.”
June laughs breathlessly. “You have to get the door.”
“I know,” I sigh, unmoving. Fucking cockblockers.
Pressing one more hard kiss to her mouth, I set her on her feet. “We’re not done with this conversation.”
Her hooded eyes meet mine, and she bites her lip. “I hope not.”
Temptress.
Reluctantly, I swipe her shirt off the floor and hand it to her. She slips it back on, and I adjust myself in my jeans, wincing at the discomfort.
This girl is going to be the death of me. I keep losing my goddamn head around her, forgetting all the reasons I need to keep my hands to myself. And right now, I don’t even care.
Another knock comes. “Yo! Everything okay in there?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I call back, running a hand through my hair and trying to look like I wasn’t just about to fuck my sister’s best friend against a wall. “We’re coming!”
June snorts at my choice of words, and I shoot her a look.
She shrugs innocently. “You said it.”
“Smartass.” Fighting a grin, I grab my cut off the back of the chair and shrug it on, straightening my shoulders.
Time to get the fuck out of here.