Just One Taste (Oh Tequila Series Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

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  Just One Taste

  Oh, Tequila Series #2

  By C.A. Harms

  Just Once Taste

  Copyright © 2017 by C.A. Harms.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: December 2017

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-269-9

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-269-9

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Ever heard that saying, Karma is a bitch? How about, do unto others what you wish they would do unto you? Here’s why you should live by those words, because Red may be learning the hard way.

  Payback is a bitch…

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

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  Prologue

  Elijah, AKA “Red”

  I rolled to my left and felt something wet at my side. Not just wet, but fucking soaked. As in my entire hand submerged in a pool of standing water.

  I slowly opened my eyes and squinted past the bright sunlight peeking up over the trees. I was lying outside, near the pool, and a “what the fuck” moment hit me hard.

  How the hell did I get out here?

  I closed my eyes and buried my face against my forearm, wishing it all away. The headache, the body ache, the nauseating feelings in my stomach—I just wanted them all gone.

  My hair had grown out even more and now produced the perfect shield over my face.

  Everyone thought red was my natural color. For a while it was fun to let them think so, but it was time for a change. My natural brown was beginning to take over and I had gone to my Aunt Meg to slowly strip out the continuous red I’d put in it over the years.

  It took a few minutes to calm my rolling stomach for fear of losing its contents. Puking was never good, but puking in or near a pool was fucking nasty.

  When I was sure I had gotten it under control, I lifted my head. So far, so good, I thought as I carefully pushed off the ground and brought myself into a sitting position.

  “Still good,” I mumbled to myself.

  I took in a few deep breaths and went for broke. Crawling off the ground, I stood on wobbly legs. Fearful of falling, I held my arms out to my sides and that’s when I saw it. My right wrist bandaged and taped.

  For a moment I only stared at it, wondering what in the hell I could have done. It appeared professionally wrapped, so whoever added the bandage obviously knew what they were doing.

  I carefully began to tear at the edge, my curiosity getting the best of me. Maybe I shouldn’t remove it, I thought just before peeling back the bandage.

  This time my legs did give out and I landed hard on my ass in the grassy yard surrounding the pool.

  There on my wrist was a fucking tattoo, one name in big bold letters.

  Blake.

  I quickly covered up my wrist, securing the tape. I looked around to ensure there was no one else who could have seen it.

  Some crazy shit had gone down in this house. Shit that most people wouldn’t like to ever have repeated. But never, and I do mean never, had any of my brothers woken up the morning after a party to have some dude’s name tattooed on them.

  Well, until now that is.

  Oh, Tequila, what have you done now?

  Chapter One

  24 hours earlier

  “The winner is…” Isaac was known for making choosing the sober brother out to be a huge display. It was like he was announcing the fucking winner of a new car or a two-week paid vacation to some exotic nude beach. Did he really think any of us wanted to hear that we’d been chosen to babysit a house full of grown men while they turned into total tools of themselves? I think that was what triggered the majority of our revenge pranks. We wanted to pay those idiots back for making our nights fucking hell. Just know that I live with savages.

  I’d been puked on and pissed on; don’t ask, because the how is not important. They are the most vulgar, offensive, and nastiest bunch of douchebags at the University of Florida, but they are my brothers.

  In this house being chosen for such a task was like having each one of your ball hairs pulled out slowly one by one. You knew it was going to hurt like a bitch in some way. You knew that by the end of the night you would most likely feel violated in some form, and shit like that could scar a man. Believe me…I have a few of my own scars to prove it.

  On the other hand, I found it to be a great joy on most occasions. I always jumped at the opportunity to be able to pull shit on my brothers. I thrived on making them fear the nights I’d been chosen to babysit. It was fucking thrilling to watch them sweat. It had been a while since I got to shave someone’s head or color someone’s face with permanent marker. I was getting pretty good at piercings.

  I was beginning to think the choosing was now somehow rigged, considering the last time I was picked
it was when I tied Corbin and Clayton together naked and placed them on the front lawn of the sorority house down the road. It would have been fine had it not been the father of one of the girls who found them there, all snuggled up the next morning.

  “Clayton.” Isaac made the announcement, dragging out the name like he’s some famous star taking the field.

  I tried to not react, but the little fucker Clay zoned in on me and offered me a wink, pointing at me like he’d chosen me out of the crowd. I already knew I was his number one target; hell, I was the number one target for every guy who lived in the house. Good thing I was double his size, so whatever it was he was dreaming up couldn’t be all that bad. I still held the record in this house for the biggest and best pranks; no one could outwit me.

  “Let’s try to keep all the naked displays off the porches of other houses.” Isaac looked directly at me. “Lock your rooms, even though we know that a certain someone will still have access. At least we know who to blame when wild shit happens, so there’s the upside.”

  “When dealing with Red there is no upside,” Brent interjected, and before I could defend myself everyone began to agree. Rounds of “ain’t that the truth,” “the guy’s an ass,” and “true that” rang out from around the room.

  “Fuck y’all, it isn’t my fault you assholes aren’t smart enough to pull one over on me.”

  “How is anyone supposed to pull shit over on you when you don’t get sloshed? Even when you’re not SB you still stay sober.” Corbin looked like a scorned child, his arms crossed over his chest, slouching back against the wall. The only thing he was missing was a pouty lip.

  Wait, no, nevermind, there it is.

  “Even if I was hammered none of you would be able to outdo my past pranks.”

  Every single one of my brothers began to exchange looks with one another. I waited for any of them to challenge me, because they knew I was only telling the truth. I chuckled when the room remained silent and pushed up off the couch heading for the exit, feeling satisfied. Just as I stepped into the doorway I halted to the sound of Clayton’s voice.

  “I accept.”

  Looking back over my shoulder I arched a brow, fully expecting him to backtrack only he didn’t. The ass stood tall, shoulders squared, and stared directly at me.

  “I guarantee that I’ll outdo you.” He lifted his chin a little higher and gave back just as much as he got. “I’ll take all the other pranks you’ve thrown our way and make them seem like child’s play in comparison.”

  No one interjected, no one denied his claim, only watched in near awe. I think they were shell-shocked at Clayton and his cocky confidence. Me, I was simply amused.

  “It’s on,” I said with a smirk. “Have the tequila ready.”

  I didn’t wait for his response as I left and began climbing the stairs to my room.

  I may have been setting myself up for nothing more than a disaster but I had to give the kid the chance. The chance to fail and be humiliated.

  Chapter Two

  Catherine

  As I moved around the dining area, I swore I could feel him watching my every move. Those big brown eyes, that interested smirk—he always offered them, but never took the initiative to say anything more than a few flirtatious remarks.

  I guess I wished he would just ask me out, make a move, anything. Yet all he ever did was watch, smile, and make my heart race with the anticipation that it might one day be more.

  I was ready for that day.

  I’d tell myself today would be that day. I will talk to him, I will flirt. Then I’d see him, whether around campus or at Porter’s, and I would freeze. I’d find some way to talk myself out of it; most times it was my self-doubt interfering.

  But here I was again, and there he was.

  “Red.” I turned around just in time to see a blonde girl walk toward the table where the group of guys sat. I tried not to make it too obvious but I’ll admit I was curious how he’d react.

  “That was a great game against Tennessee last week. You were amazing as always.” I watched as she paused next to the table and leaned over just enough that her shirt gaped open in the front. I rolled my eyes at her over the top effort and turned back toward the table I was at, continuing to clean off the dishes.

  “Thanks,” he finally said. His bland tone had me smiling, my back still to them.

  “Hey Draya, is that a tattoo?” It wasn’t Red that asked, but I found myself pausing, waiting for her response.

  “Yes it is, wanna see the entire thing?”

  I couldn’t help myself. I turned to see what and where this tattoo was and instantly I regretted it. The blonde was practically lying across Red as she showed the guy next to him what appeared to be her tit. Well okay, not her entire tit, but it was pretty damn close.

  I wrinkled my nose in disgust and looked away only to find myself staring into Red’s eyes. He was looking directly at me, his hands held away from the girl and a knowing smile on his face. I guess my distaste was written all over my face.

  Unable to keep a straight face, I smiled at him before turning back to my work. Here was my chance—I could flirt, gain his attention, and be the one to take the initiative.

  But instead I moved toward the back and let my doubt take over.

  ***

  “You get paid today?” It was the first thing I was asked the moment I entered the door. Not “how was your day” or “it’s good to see you.” Not that I truly expected my stepfather to say anything nice, but it sure would be a welcome change to be home for more than five minutes before he started pushing me for money. Money I worked for but apparently wasn’t entitled to spend.

  “Yeah.” I reached inside my purse, pulled out the money envelope, and held it out as I passed the end of the couch. He wasted no time taking it without so much as a “thank you for helping support your mother and me.”

  “I’m a sorry loser who can’t provide for my family and without you we would fall flat on our faces.” That was what he should have been saying.

  I’d pulled double shifts the last two weekends just to get a little extra. I wanted to be able to keep a little for myself without Carl noticing. The man was garbage, he was lazy, and a drunk, but my mother wasn’t much better. The only difference was she held a job, not one I would share with my friends if I actually had any friends, but it was a job.

  Let me just say the only difference between my mother and a prostitute was that she performed her duties in the back room of a local strip club instead of dirty hotels and backseats.

  Safely in my room, or so I thought, I was lifting my shirt over my head just as the bedroom door behind me came bursting open. I whipped around and shielded myself as Carl moved into the room. He held the money envelope in his hands, shaking it as he glared at me. “Where’s the rest of the money, Cat?”

  “What?” Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to play stupid.

  “You think I’m an idiot, but I know you’ve worked more hours this pay period and there should be more money. But instead it’s the same as your last check, so that tells me you’re cheating me out of my money.” Cheating him? Out of his money?

  “I had to pay for gas and book fees.” That was a lie, the book fee part anyway. Because I was from such a low-income family, I’d gotten grants to help with those things. He didn’t need to know that, though.

  “You’d make us both a lot more money if you took your mother up on that offer to work with her.” Stripping in front of a room full of horny disgusting men was not my idea of a career. It was disgusting. “Or you could just skip the dancing and move straight to the extra activities they offer instead. Much better tips.”

  I cringed when his eyes roamed over me from my head down to my feet and then back up again.

  “You got the body for it. I think you’d make a killing. I’ve seen some of the girls they got there and none of them have what you have to offer. So innocent looking, you’d make those men’s heads spin.” He licked his lower lip and left
his tongue resting there for a moment too long.

  Still holding my shirt to my chest, I leaned over to grab the remaining amount of money I had hidden in the front pocket of my purse. My stomach tensed as I held it out to him, suddenly feeling I’d never escape the hold he and my mother had on me.

  But at this point, I just wanted him gone.

  With a satisfied smile and a tip of his head he took it and left my room. As he retreated down the hall I watched him walk away, taking what little dignity I had left with him since he’d left my door wide open. For a moment I remained frozen in the center of my room staring after him, feeling with each step he stripped me a little more. I always felt inferior to him, so small and frail in his presence. I’d give anything to free myself of his hold, both financially and emotionally.

  I quietly shut my door and propped my desk chair beneath the handle. Sitting back on my bed, I took in a deep breath and did what I always did. I imagined getting my own place and feeling safe for once.

  Carl had never touched me, but the way he watched me was a violation in itself. I took every shift I could and stayed late in the library, studying to the point where I could barely hold my eyes open. Anything was better than being here alone with him.

  My phone chirped in my purse, making me jump in surprise. I reached inside in search of it and smiled when I saw who the message was from.

  Marcus: Please tell me you’ve decided to take me up on my offer? I need a wingman, or wing woman, whatever.

  Since working at Pete’s I’d gotten a chance to know both Morgan and Marcus. The two of them were a package deal, I’d come to find out, and where they were, Morgan’s boyfriend Xavier wasn’t far behind.

  Which also meant that I’d grown to know a few of Xavier’s frat brothers in the process. They were all like one big family. One large, crazy ass family that loved to torture and torment one another but a family nonetheless.