Too Close: Plantain Series Novella Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  Too Close

  A Plantain series novella

  Written by Amelia Oliver

  Copyright © 2017 Amelia Oliver

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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

  Thanks Stella James, Dee Ellis and Lisa Mondragon for forcing me to write this.

  This book is for all my Plantain Addicts.

  Editing by Lovenbooks

  Cover by Dee Ellis from Indies Ink

  Formatting by Stella James

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  Prologue

  *Excerpt from Take On Me*

  “Oh, it’s you little thing,” he says with glassy eyes and a lazy smile.

  “Smokey, right?”

  His smile gets wider, and is very childlike, like he’s about to tell a joke or something. Although the first time we met, his demeanor made me a little nervous. But now that he’s sitting here, I think it was more just that he’d walked in on Joey and I post blow job.

  “You remember me,” he states.

  “Why do you call me ‘little thing?’” I ask.

  “Because you have these big beautiful doe eyes and look like Bambi, Bambi’s a cute little thing.”

  I give him a look, almost shocked at his honest and sweet comment. Rocket taps the bar top in front of me.

  “Anything for you Ms. Katie?” he asks.

  “Water, please,” I smile.

  “Not drinking?” Smokey asks.

  “No,” I shake my head a little.

  “Here you go,” Rocket says, handing me the bottle and I smile in thanks.

  “You don’t like to drink here, or at all?”

  “My parents were alcoholics,” I confess, and I don’t know why I just told this stranger something so personal.

  “Shit,” he mumbles, looking down at his can of beer between his hands.

  “It’s not like I won’t eventually, it’s just not my thing, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I get you,” he nods. “You said ‘were,’ your parents dead or something?”

  “No, no…well, I don’t know actually, I haven’t seen them in a few years, they might be,” I shrug.

  And it’s strange because I haven’t thought about them in a long time, and thinking about them conjures no feelings or sadness.

  “Oh yeah, I think I heard something about that when I came back, they beat you or something fucked up, right?” he asks, taking a swig of his beer.

  I like how uncensored he is, and I realize that’s how all these people are with me. I never knew how refreshing it is to have open dialogs without dodging eggshells or watching words.

  “Joey said you were a nomad? It’s called nomad, right?”

  He nods, taking another swig of his beer.

  “Yeah, a few years I was out there.”

  “What made you decide to do that?”

  I ask this with that same no bullshit policy that comes with being in the clubhouse, but I do watch his expression to make sure I haven’t overstepped my boundaries. I’m not a member of the club, and Joey told me that there are things that outsiders and old ladies just can’t know.

  “I fell in love, gambled everything and I finally had someone I needed to hold my self-accountable to. I didn’t go far, but it feels like another life.”

  “Fell in love, huh?” I comment.

  “Yeah,” he pauses and looks down at his hands, a small smile taking over his lips. “Me and a few guys did some business in Vegas and I saw this gorgeous chick, fucking fell in love with the dealer…so I went back as often as I could just to see her.”

  My mouth dropped, my eyes looking at him with disbelief.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I shake my head.

  He gives me that wide grin again, and I think I see his cheeks become a little red.

  “You racked up a gambling debt because you liked the blackjack dealer?” I ask, trying to see if I follow.

  “Something like that.”

  I tilt my head back and begin laughing, loudly.

  “It’s not the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, trust me,” he says and then begins laughing with me.

  “I don’t mean to-” I tell him, covering my mouth with my hand to stop. “But I don’t think that’s dumb, I think it’s actually pretty cute.”

  “Shhhh, don’t say cute in here, you’ll ruin my reputation,” he says with mock seriousness.

  “So, where is she now?” I ask.

  “She’s just outside of Vegas, working as a waitress. She’s trying to start a landscape business, so I’m going to save all my money and help her.”

  Again, my mouth pops open.

  “I think that’s, wow, that’s-”

  “Stupid, I know, it’s like bribing her to be with me. But I have to do this for her, so even if she doesn’t want to be with me after, we can get a divorce-”

  “Hold on, you’re married?”

  “Yeah, actually…we got married by Elvis one drunken night.”

  “Smokey, you’re blowing my mind, what?!”

  “But, no one here knows…” he trails off, drinking his beer.

  I realize what he’s telling me is huge, and private, the fact that he would talk to me about this at all is flattering.

  “So, why aren’t you together?”

  “I thought everything was fine…but, I kind of lied to her about being in the MC, and when she found out, she was pissed and kicked me out.”

  “Why was she so pissed about the MC thing?”

  “When we first met, she told me something about growing up with her dad being a biker, how he treated her mom and her like shit, was always gone. So, I knowingly kept it from her about my life. When she kicked me out, I know she was hurt I lied, I know she was just proving a point, but I thought by now she’d take me back.”

  I nod, understanding, my mind still blown by all this.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Emily,” he sighs.

  I can see by just talking about it, and mentioning her name, that it saddens him.

  “So, I went to do my nomad thing for a while, but then responsibilities happened and I needed money for some shit, so I got back into the club doing some jobs here and there. Then she found out I was lying and kicked me out. But I had to get back in because I can’t get the money for her any other way, it would take me fuckin years.”

  “Don’t you want to be with her?” I ask in confusion.

  “Fuck yes, I’d do anything.”

  “So why the two times I’ve seen you, you’re drunk as a skunk?”

  He gives me a look, and it’s like for a moment his eyes clear and he’s really there.

  “I get lost in my head, like I’m doing all this and she’ll refuse the money or some bullshit. She’s super hard headed…I just want her so bad…if I can’t be with her, I’ll fuckin die.�
��

  “Well, that’s a terrible attitude,” I comment, sipping my water.

  He looks at me again with clear eyes. “You think?”

  “She already thinks this life, that the biker life is not what she wants to be a part of. You’re not doing much to prove her wrong in that aspect, if you get drunk all the time.”

  His expression changes, like he hadn’t thought about it like that before.

  “Shit,” he sighs.

  1

  Smokey

  I can see the city lights come into view as we come over the hill. The traffic beginning to pick up as the desolate desert turns into civilization. I didn’t think much about going to Vegas when Sven told me I was tagging along on a job there with Chain, Rocket and Boo-Boo. But as we started the drive, and the hours it took to get there, the more my mind began to run wild with possibility. I’ve been told I have an addictive personality, and Vegas might not be such a good idea for me. Hopefully, we’re in and out and don’t have time to sit and gamble, because surely I’ll leave here empty handed. I go extreme with everything, bike modifications, tattoos, women. I have yet the opportunity to gamble myself to bankruptcy since that surely will happen, because I don’t like to lose.

  I follow behind Rocket as we enter the city, the neon lights flashing and tempting visitors to come inside. There are tons of people walking along the strip and cars pack the streets. We pull off the main strip and turn into underground parking for a hotel. Once off my bike, I stretch and try to shake off the vibrations still running through my body from being on my bike for hours. Removing my helmet, and leather gloves, I run a hand through my hair before tucking my shit into the saddlebags. We were advised by Sven to not wear our club leathers here, the owners of the place don’t like advertising they’re working with an MC. Rocket again leads the way toward the elevators and we all follow, piling into the small space. I’m only here for muscle, and the reason we’re here doesn’t interest me enough to find out the details. When I’m told to go on a job, I don’t ask why, I just do as I’m told. The doors ding before opening and life from the main floor hits us with a burst of energy. The musical sounds of slot machines, people laughing and talking, waitresses walking around with trays of drinks and not much clothing. I eye a short redhead as she passes by, and she returns my appreciative smile by giving me a wink.

  “Hey, big boy,” she says and gives me a little wiggle of her hips.

  My eyes follow her before there’s a smack to my chest from Chain, knocking me back into business mode. Rocket heads off toward some table games and again we all follow. We stop just before we reach the area, a large black guy with a suit and earpiece halting us from going any further at a red velvet rope. Rocket tells him something, then the guy presses the piece into his ear and nods, unclipping the rope and allowing us in. The people at the tables are dressed nicely and it doesn’t take a genius to realize these are high rollers. We walk to the back of the room, and a door where another guy stops us and Rocket talks to him.

  “You guys stay here, Chain you come,” Rocket tells us.

  Boo-Boo and I move to either side of the door, leaning against the wall as we scan the area. I watch a table of men playing blackjack, studying how they bet and glance at their cards. One guy rubs his hand over his mouth as he assesses what he should do, and for whatever reason I look at the dealer. It takes me a moment to understand what I’m seeing. A beautiful, petite, dark haired, tanned-skinned vixen. Her eyes are large and brown, she has a lot of eye makeup on, making them look even larger. Her hairs pulled up in an fancy bun thing, and she watches the man, waiting for him to make his move. Immediately, my eyes flick down to her small hands, no wedding band or engagement ring. She’s wearing a white dress shirt with a little black bow tie, and the button between her tits is straining to remain together. My dick stirs and there’s nothing that I love more than big tits and a huge ass, I wonder how her ass looks. But my eyes are drawn to hers, she’s still looking at the man before blinking and looking over at me. She gazes at me a long moment before she registers that I’m staring back at her. When she does, she straightens and her chocolate saucer eyes scan me up and down. I’m wearing all black, black boots, jeans, and a long sleeve thermal shirt. I’m six feet, and take care of my body, so I know she appreciates the muscles that this shirt emphasizes. Then her head jerks back to the guy as he repeats the bet he put down, since she didn’t hear him during her ogling of me.

  “How much time you think we have?” I ask Boo.

  “Why?” he replies in a tone of voice like he already knows what I’m going to say.

  I wonder how much it is to sit at the table and whether I brought enough cash to buy-in. But as I do this, I watch a man dressed similarly to my big-titty-dream-girl and tap her on the shoulder. She moves aside as the new dealer takes over and begins walking away from the table. Her full body comes into view, and goddamn, her ass is big and juicy encased in tight black pants.

  “Be right back,” I announce.

  “Smokey,” Boo calls after me.

  “Five minutes,” I say back to him.

  Walking behind her, my eyes volley between her ass cheeks as her hips sway like a fucking temptress. She enters through doors marked ‘Staff Only’ and I glance around to see if anyone’s watching me before entering as well. It’s a smallish locker room type space and I see the exit door ahead of me closing. Not seeing any signs of anyone else in here, I push through the exit door and look to my left and then my right and see her leaning against the building wall. She’s lighting a cigarette but the lighter won’t flick to a flame, and I thank fucking God. Pulling the lighter from my pocket, I approach her and she doesn’t act like she notices me, until I flick my lighter and bring it to her hands. Her huge eyes shoot up to meet mine, and she cups my hands as she inhales the flame and exhales smoke.

  “Thanks,” she tells me and I step back. “You work here?” she asks.

  “Not really,” I reply.

  “Not really?” she asks.

  “I’m here for work.”

  “Ahh,” she says with a flick of her eyebrows.

  I read her gold name tag while covertly checking out her tits again. “Emily, I’m Smokey,” I say, putting a hand out.

  She gives me an odd look. “Why aren’t you smoking?”

  “I don’t.” I shake my head.

  Again, she gives me a look like she already can’t stand me.

  “I just carry a lighter for lovely ladies who need it.”

  She laughs a little and shakes her head, and I give her a wide smile.

  “Are you from here?” I ask.

  “What are you doing?” she says with another shake of her head and brows pulled down in confusion.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you making conversation with me?”

  Oh, feisty.

  “Because I want to know you,” I state.

  “You want to fuck me, there’s a difference.”

  My smile grows wider. “Well that body of yours is pretty fuckable, but I wouldn’t mind knowing you before that.”

  “Do most women fall for this shit?”

  “I don’t normally have to try this hard.”

  She lets out a humorless laugh and shakes her head again. “Wow.”

  She hits her cigarette once more before dropping it to the ground and putting it out with her shoe. She moves to walk past me and I stop her, outstretching my arm and placing my hand on the wall.

  “Come on, give me something, how about your number?”

  She looks at my arm in front of her, then slowly up at me, blinking her big eyes.

  “You want my number?” she asks.

  “Yeah,” I shrug a shoulder.

  She gives me a smile, reaching up to grasp my arm, and in one move twists my forearm the wrong way and it causes me to grimace in pain.

  “Fuck you.” she growls before releasing my arm and heading for the door.

  Although it hurt, I smile and rub my bicep. “Se
e you around, Emily.”

  2

  Smokey

  I know she thought that by showing me she wasn’t falling for my shit would discourage me, but it only made me want her more. I didn’t see her again before Rocket and Chain came back out and were ready to leave. For two weeks now, big-titty-juicy-ass, as I fondly refer to her, has been running like a wild beast in my head. Anytime I hook up with a sweet bottom, or with a petite dark haired broad, it’s not her. I enjoy myself never the less, but all I can think about is Emily. Sometimes not even in a sexual way, just wanting to hear her little sassy attitude, that shit gets me hard as fuck.

  It’s this need for her that motivates me on a Friday night to head into Vegas. I lied and told Sven I needed to take care of some personal business and might be gone all weekend.

  As usual, he didn’t ask what’s up, just nodded and told me to be safe out there. Sven’s fucking awesome, and the reason I joined the MC years ago. I’d never been on a bike before, but saw him and guys I know now as Chain and Owen driving down Main Street in Plantain that made me envy them. They looked mean and badass, but when they came to my aunt’s house to offer condolences for her sister, my mom, passing, I saw a different side of them. I heard them telling my aunt that anything she needed, help with money, or even me at fifteen, they would do for her. As I grew older, I realized that’s the clubs M.O. They love Plantain and everyone who lives there. My aunt wasn’t part of the club, but Sven knew my mom from school when she lived here and wanted to do whatever he could to help us.

  The city lights come into view, and a charge of anticipation amps up inside me and has me speeding up just to get there. I didn’t have a plan but knew I just wanted to see Emily. I park in the same underground garage, and head for the small elevator. When they part at the main floor, it’s almost like deja vu. I step out to the busy floor and my eyes search for Emily, I’ve brought enough cash for a high roller table since I don’t know if that’s always where she works. I walk around the outside of the velvet robe, scanning the faces with no luck, so I lean up against the wall beside the bathrooms and wait. Then I see her, her dark brown hair’s pulled back into a 50’s style ponytail, and she’s more beautiful than I remember. I hurry and exchange money for chips, and head back over to the high roller’s section. Her tables full, but I just want to look at her, so I don’t mind standing and watching, yeah, like a creeper.