Tainted Love: Sinful Souls MC #3 (2 page)

I have always loved my job, being a professional dancer has its benefits. I’m not the type of dancer you may be thinking, though. I’m the type who keeps her clothes on—well, for the most part anyway. The only downside is never being able to set down roots because I’m constantly either in Hollywood or in Coronado. I’ve just finished shooting a music video for some drop kick wannabe player who thinks his dancers are his personal escorts. They’re not always like that, just the new younger artists. They seem worse than the ones who have been around long enough to earn their respect.

I’m heading back to my apartment in The Hills where I live with my best friend, Carter. It’s only around the corner from the studio so I walk most nights taking in the sights and sounds around me. Carter is amazing and so easy to live with. We’ve been friends going on ten years now. I do hate his obsessive OCD disorder, and his need to bring home different men every day of the week.

Yep, you guessed it—Carter is gay.

Walking into my apartment and pulling my headphones out of my ears with R-Kelly’s song
‘Cookie’
beating through them, I throw my jacket on the counter.

“Carter?” I yell out while checking the fridge for food.

Walking through to the living room with last night’s cold Chinese food in my hand—cold food always tastes nicer than hot food—I see Carter coming down the hallway.

“How’s it going, baby girl?” Pulling me in for a hug, he unlatches himself from me when I hear shuffling come from his bedroom. I look to him with my eyes narrowed.

“Again? God Carter. It’s going to fall off soon you use it that much.”

He laughs at my comment, stealing some of my food.

“Mm-hmm baby girl. Not all of us are able to have sex only the once.”

Licking my lips and smiling at his comment, not because he’s funn
y, because he’s not
, but because it reminds me of Ade. Ade was my random one night of first-time sex. One night two years ago, and he
ruined
me. I haven’t been able to go anywhere near sex since. I date, yes, but they all eventually leave when they discover that I’m not the slightest bit interested in sex with them. It’s not from the lack of trying, believe me I’ve tried, but those piercing blue eyes, strong square jaw and his intense, possessive stare has haunted my dreams more times than I can count. Which has resulted in other men just simply, not meeting his standards. To say he set the bar high is an understatement.

“Carter!” I scorn him. Picking around the honey soy chicken in my dish.

“Do you even know this one’s name?” I ask with an eyebrow raised, as he walks behind me to head back to the kitchen.

“No,” he answers directly as he flicks his blond, perfectly styled hair back across his forehead.

When we first met, I used to call him JB, because his hair looked as if
Justin Beiber’s
hair stylist had styled it—he hated it, to say the least, which resulted in me loving it.

“Oh well, I hope you wash it twice a day. Just sayin’!”

He spits his drink out and looks at me. “Kalie-Rose! That’s not something I expect to hear come out of your mouth.”

I laugh while I head over to join him in our large open plan kitchen. Our apartment is nice and relaxed. It’s actually a loft, complete with brick walls, and big glass windows overlooking the street below. The area is all open plan downstairs, where the living room and kitchen are located. There are also two big wooden pillars centered in the middle of the large area, between the living room and the kitchen. The stairs leading you to both Carter and my bedrooms and the one bathroom. The bathroom is where all my framed Lakers singlets are hanging nicely in their glass frames. Bryant, Clarkson, Young, and Randle—they all have a spot.

“You got some mail today, in the top draw.” He points as he pops open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

I slide the drawer open and see a silver envelope with my name written in delicate cursive writing. Looking up at Carter, he’s staring at me, waiting for me to open it. I bite down on my lip and rip the envelope open. A whole lot of confetti spills out everywhere and I pull out a simple card that reads:

Will you be my bridesmaid?

Vicky xo

“Fuck,” I curse a little loudly as I slam the note onto the bench.

Why couldn’t she just ring, or text me. Ever the theatrical princess is my Vicky.

Carter walks over, picking up the card. He begins laughing under his breath.

“Oh, baby girl.”

Pulling me under his arm, I push off him and huff out, walking back into my room and swearing profanities under my breath. Stripping my clothes off, I slide into my sheets and close my eyes as I relive a crazy night two years ago…

Two Years Ago

I was blasting Beyoncé
‘7/11’
as I zoomed onto the highway. I have a massive love for music, all kinds. But in my line of work, I guess I heard more hip-hop than anything else. I was ready to get out of Hollywood for a lifetime after my boyfriend of two years had dumped me for being a virgin. I guess he was sick of trying, can’t say as I blamed him to be honest. So right now, I was driving to my family’s house in Coronado to meet my best friend, Vicky. I hadn’t seen her in a few months, but whenever I did, it was as though nothing had changed. That shows true friendship. I was singing along with my long, light, caramel brown hair flowing freely behind me, and I felt like getting a little wild. I’d always been the good girl, the innocent one. I felt as though I needed to be exposed. I felt like something deep inside me needed to be unleashed. I felt like I need to be tainted.

I pulled up to my family home and made my way inside. It was overly large, especially for the amount of time my parents actually spent here. But they refused to sell the place for—as my mother put it—sentimental reasons. I used to spend some weekends there, mostly when I felt the need to get away from Trevor. As soon as I walked in the front door, I got a text from Vicky.

Vicky:
Are you almost ready? I can come over in ten.

Me:
Ready when you are ;)

Boy was I ready
. I needed to let loose, and there was no one better to help me with that, than Vicky Abrahams. When I saw her car pull up, I walked out my door.

“Hey, Vick!” I squealed, pulling her in for a hug.

“Hey beautiful lady, you ready for a wild time?” She wiggled her ass and threw her hands up.

I laughed. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Shutting the front door and locking it, we walked down the steps.

“We could walk, it’s not far?”

She nodded her head. “Good idea.”

“So, how have you been?” I asked.

“Good. Man drama with Jesse, but meh, what’s new.”

I shook my head with a smile. “You’re such a man eater. You could even give Carter a run for his money…” I paused and thought about that for a second. “Actually, no. He’s still worse than you.”

She laughed. “I guess. How are my brothers?” I brought my glasses down from my head, blocking out the LA sun.
And maybe hiding my thoughts
.

“Um, Dominic is great, he’s awesome actually. Jacob is still a little off the rails, but he’s good, running his empire and all that. I did see him driving a new Ferrari, complete with the latest blonde of the week in the passenger seat.”

She laughed. “So not much has changed there then.”

I shake my head. “Nope, not at all.”

“I’m still rooting for you and Dominic you know,” she said, hooking her arm around my elbow. I shook my head and laughed. “I know. I know you are.”

We walked into the local bar with the smell of cigarettes and beer hitting my senses. The need to lose control took over my body like a wave of rebellion. I was sick of being a virgin, this much was true. However, I at least wanted it to be with someone I felt sexually attracted to. I’d never had that with Trevor. It had always felt more like a business transaction every time we were together. I didn’t know how we’d lasted so long to begin with. I wanted to do all things that I’d never thought of doing. Before I had a controlling boyfriend, I had controlling parents so this would be the first time I’d felt a sense of freedom. When I was little, both my parents were Mormon. Therefore, they were very, very, strict. Now, not so much. Quite the opposite actually. They still had their beliefs, but they were more like normal parents now. Apart from my mom, she was a little crazy.

I was walking straight to the bar when I felt Vicky stop behind me. I turned to see her purring at a large group of bikers in the corner. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t take that girl anywhere. Even her vagina needed a GPS. I envied her in a way, she was so free-spirited and didn’t care what people thought. Vicky’s motto was
‘If you don’t feed me or fuck me, then your opinion doesn’t matter.’
Yep, that was our Vicky. So I thought nothing of her perving. Me on the other hand, I had never been one who liked to be the center of attention, and I’d never really paid attention to what was going on around me. Not a smart trait to have when I thought about it.

When we reached the bar, I slumped down onto the bar stool, placing my handbag on the bench.

“So,” she said, dropping to the stool. “Why so glum?”

I ordered our drinks and picked up some mixed nuts that were sitting in a glass bowl.

“My ex dumped me,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh well, let’s find some new toys to play with then.”

She began to look around the room, her eyes landing directly on the bikers. Typical bloody Vicky Abrahams. I looked between her and the group before I started clicking my fingers in her face to gain her attention.

“Vicky, I swear to God you and Carter are soul mates.”

She laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “Anyway, so he left you, must be a good reason.”

I laugh. “Mmm, very.” I threw up four fingers to the bartender, signaling shots.

“What? Are you going to tell me he left you because you’re a virgin?” She scoffed at her own words, which were laced with sarcasm. I closed my eyes and picked up the drink that had been placed in front of me, pounding it back fast.

“Oh shit,
no way
,” she exclaimed.

I drank my two shots before ordering two more. The pretty young bartender looked at me like maybe I’d lost my mind. I probably had, I wouldn’t know. I think I was drunk.