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Racing Dirty, L.A. Page 6


  “What are you wearing?” My voice is low and sexy. She giggles on the other end and the voices fade away.

  “Why don’t I send you a pic?” She responds, breathlessly.

  I hear her move the phone away from her mouth and a few seconds later my phone buzzes in my ear with a text. I open it and a picture of Ashley fills my screen. She has on a pair of tight black skinny jeans, a black tank top over a white one and a black and white light flannel shirt over it unbuttoned. She has on makeup and looks as sexy as ever.

  I groan. What the fuck am I doing?

  I can’t keep going on like this.

  We talk for a few more minutes and then hang up. I get up off the couch and make my way to my home gym. I begin lifting weights, trying to push Ashley out of my head, but it’s not working. I’m slowly losing my mind worrying about her. I have clients in my security business that require my full attention, but I’m no good to them right now. I can’t concentrate on their issues and try to handle my own. I have a dedicated team that knows what to do, but I still need to be there. I need to push Ashley out of my mind and trust her to call me if she runs into any trouble.

  After the incident happened with Xavier and Izzy, my secrets came out to them. Not all of them, but some. I no longer have to worry about protecting my security business from them anymore. They're more than supportive than most people and keep me grounded. I still didn’t tell them everything, but they know a lot more now.

  Growing up like I did with an abusive, gambling-addicted father and a drunk, druggie mother, Xavier helped me when I first moved here. Not before I learned a few things first though. His family along with Izzy and her dad taught me there is more to a family than what I had and love me for who I am. I kept my business a secret from them because I didn’t know if it would put them in danger, but after they had a psycho stalker, and Mia and Ashley were kidnapped, all risks were off the table. I brought them into my world and it saved Izzy.

  I nevertheless feel responsible that Xavier was shot on my watch and died on the table, but the doctors brought him back and he’s now properly engaged to Izzy. They’re so in love and with their past, all the heartbreak they dealt with, I’m thrilled they found each other again. I think I found something like that with Ashley, but I can’t be certain. Not until I can get her to bring me into her world and show me who she truly is.

  After I run a couple of miles on my treadmill, I make my way out of my gym and climb up the stairs to get ready for work. I have a briefing today for a major client and I need to be on my game. I need to put Ashley in the back of my mind and focus on work. I turn the shower on, strip out of my sweat soaked clothes and step into the steam.

  My mind strays back to the night Ashley, and I spent together after Xavier proposed to Izzy again at the race track. This shower with the black and white marble tiles and double shower heads was one of our places we made it too. My cock grows hard remembering how Ashley’s palms slapped the tiles as our bodies were slapping together. Her hair and body were glistening with the water cascading down it as I plunged inside of her from behind as deep as I could. The expression of lust and raw need etched on her face was my undoing.

  I grab my hard cock and begin to pull and twist at a rapid pace. I see Ashley’s face when I close my eyes, her head thrown back in ecstasy as I brought her to the edge and we both stumbled over without a care in the world. My name ripping through her lips and tingles start at the base of my spine. I pick up the pace, my hand tugging and pulling. My muscles coil with tension and find my release as memories assault me of Ashley’s body shuddering under my hands, her breathing just as erratic as mine.

  After I compose myself and clean up, I turn the water off and dry my body with a towel. I wipe the condensation from the full mirror over the marble sinks and take a long look at myself in the mirror. There is something in my eyes, I can’t recognize. I look over the scars on my shoulders and chest, there's more on my back I can't see. I shudder, recalling how I received them. Those are my secrets I’m not ready to share with anyone. Ashley didn’t ask or pry when she saw them, she accepted them and my secrets that night. She kissed every one of them gently, loving me the way I’ve always wanted to be loved.

  My phone vibrates on the counter and I check to see who it is. Ashton Iverson, my second in command and Christian’s brother’s name flash across the screen. I swipe across the green button and answer the phone

  “Iverson, what’s up?”

  “Ryan, we have an issue."

  “What kind of issue?” I ask.

  “The new client demands to meet now, not later as planned. He says he’s been getting more threats and this time they involve his wife and children. Can you be in the office in thirty minutes?”

  "I’ll be there in fifteen," I answer.

  “See ya then boss,” Iverson says, and I hang up the phone.

  Fifteen minutes later, I'm walking into my office on the sixth floor of the building I own. My tailored dark blue suit and black dress shoes fit me like a second skin. There is a big, red oak desk and a plush leather chair in front of the big bay windows overlooking the small city. There are two leather chairs in front of my desk for visitors to sit on. The wooden floors are polished to a bright shine as my dress shoes click on them. There are three huge metal filing cabinets in the corners all locked up tight with client information in them. There is an attached full bathroom behind the closed oak door to the left of my desk.

  I walk over to the filing cabinet in the corner next to my desk and unlock it. I pull the file for our new client out and sit down at my desk. I'm reading the information on this guy when Iverson knocks on my open oak door and enters.

  “He’s here,” Iverson says gruffly. Ashton Iverson isn't a man of many words, which works well for me. I don’t like sharing information about myself and Ashton doesn’t like to talk. We work great together.

  I actually encountered him by accident during one of my stakeouts on a client a few years ago. Iverson was working as a bouncer at a nightclub where my client’s daughter loved to hang out. My client was receiving death threats and his daughter was young and had a free spirit. She didn’t like us being around and I followed her to the club when she tried sneaking out.

  The person threatening my client went after his daughter that night. By the time I had intel the guy was in the club, I snuck in and Iverson was there talking the guy down. He had my client’s daughter held hostage with a knife to her throat. Iverson earned his trust and kept him distracted as I snuck up behind him. I had him disarmed and the daughter safe in a matter of minutes. After that, I gave Iverson my card and asked him if he wanted to come work with me.

  The kid has a lot of potential, but like me, he has secrets he doesn’t want to share either. We became a team of two and eventually Harris, Marks and Ramirez joined us, and our dynamic duo became a full team. These four guys I trust with my life and they trust me with theirs. It’s how we work.

  Closing the folder, I stand and straighten my suit. I hate wearing these things, but it shows professionalism towards the top paying clients.

  “Let’s go,” I answer.

  We walk from my office, down a plush carpeted corridor to a black door with frosted glass. I knock once before entering and study our new client. He’s sitting at the sleek black conference table that sits in the center of the room. He’s an older man with white hair, skinny frame and he appears like he hasn’t slept in days. He screams money and power even in his worst state, sitting here.

  Iverson stands behind me, his arms crossed over his chest as I stay on the opposite side of the table as the client. I toss the folder down on the black table, making a slapping noise in the quiet room.

  “Mr. Sawyer. It’s good to finally meet you. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on and the urgency to push the appointment up?” I demand, extending my hand to shake. He grabs my hand and gives me a firm shake before speaking. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead and his breathing is erratic.

  “Yes
, thank you for meeting with me. I'm really worried now. This just arrived this morning, and I thought I should bring it to you. It was sitting on my desk in my home office,” Mr. Sawyer says. He pulls out a baggie with a note in block letters from his leather briefcase sitting on the floor next to his polished dress shoes.

  I take the baggie from him and read the note over. I hand it to Iverson and he reads it too. We share a knowing look and I turn back to Mr. Sawyer.

  “Mr. Sawyer, I’d say I think I know what’s going on. I’ve been in this business for a very long time and can read people very well. It’s what I do. Now, do you want the soft version or the hard truth? You look like a man who wants answer’s straight up.” My tone is clipped and formal.

  “Mr. Ryan, I want the hard truth about this. Do you know who's doing this?”

  “Yes, I do. I will tell you, but I need more background information.” I respond, as I take a seat and open his file. I flip through the information and stop on a page that’s blank. I look at Mr. Sawyer in the eye before revealing my first question. “Who's the woman you're cheating on your wife with?”

  Mr. Sawyer’s face turns bright red and a vein bulges on his forehead. Beads of sweat appear on his upper lip and shock on his face. He quickly masks his features and clears his throat, narrowing his beady little eyes.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I release a deep breath, struggling to control my anger at his lies. “Mr. Sawyer, please don’t lie to me. Like I said before I’ve been doing this for a long time. I can read people, that’s why I’m the best."

  The man sitting in front of me darts his eyes down and to the left. A sign he will tell another lie. I stand up quickly making it appear like I’m going to leave.

  “Very well then, Mr. Sawyer. You can deal with this on your own if you prefer to tell me another lie. I don’t deal with a liar very well and have zero patience for it. Good luck,” I announce and make my way to the door. My hand is on the knob ready to open it and leave when Mr. Sawyer stops me.

  “Wait, wait, wait. Ok, I’ll tell you everything.” Mr. Sawyer pleads.

  I turn towards him. I have him right where I want him and he’s going to sing like a canary. I return to my seat and fold my hands on the table, not breaking eye contact with him.

  “Continue with the truth or we’re out,” I declare sharply.

  Mr. Sawyer clears his throat and wipes the drops of sweat from his forehead. “It’s my secretary,” he whispers. I nod my head, just like I thought, and motion for him to continue. “It’s been going on for a few months. She came onto me and I couldn’t resist anymore. I love my wife, I really do, but something about this woman drew me to her. I feel so guilty. It’s the first and only time I’ve ever done something like this."

  My stomach is churning at disgust from this guy. According to my information, his secretary is twenty years his junior and I feel no compassion for him anymore.

  “I tried to break it off with her, but she came back at me and said if I fired her, she'll sue for sexual harassment. She video taped us a few times, in my office. Said it would be fun and adventurous, and it was until now."

  Tears are in his eyes as he retells the story of the affair and I'm going to throw up. I keep my features composed and show no emotions on my face. When he’s finally done, I want to reach across the table and beat the shit out of him, but I don’t. I close the file we have on him and stand up.

  “Mr. Sawyer, I'll handle this case. It’s your secretary’s boyfriend who's blackmailing you. You screwed up, and he wants you to pay. It will be handled, but I need you to go about your business like you have no idea. We'll set up a sting and take them both down. You're not the first person they’ve done this too. They’re cons, and we will catch them. Your family is safe, they won’t harm them. Thank you for coming in and I'll be in touch once we get this taken care of." I stand dismissing Mr. Sawyer. “Iverson, please show Mr. Sawyer out. Keep a guard on his home twenty-four/seven to be prepared.”

  “Yes boss. Mr. Sawyer, please follow me.” Iverson responds.

  Iverson and Mr. Sawyer leave the room and make their way down the hall. The office building is quiet this early in the morning. I own the whole building and know everyone who works or comes through the glass doors down on the first floor.

  My grandfather on my mother’s side left me a huge inheritance when he passed away a few years ago. I was his only grandson, and he helped me get my life on track. He saw the potential in me and left me his whole estate, under one condition. I was to never help my parents again. I had to let them suffer their consequences and own life choices. Which was fine with me. I haven’t spoken to either of them in over five years.

  The last time I spoke or was in the same room as my father was when I had cleared his debt with Calabrese. My mother, I haven’t seen or talked to in over seven years. She split when I was seventeen and never looked back, left me out in the cold, in a big city, all alone. Even when her father died, she didn't show up to the funeral. Last time I knew she was holed up in some drug house in Detroit. Whatever. It doesn’t bother me anymore.

  I leave the conference room and walk back into my office. I toss Mr. Sawyer’s folder onto my desk and I sit, staring out the massive bay windows. Summer is almost over, and the sun is just appearing over the horizon, making the rays bounce off the windows. The warmth of the sun rays shining on me warms my skin.

  My mind drifts back to Ashley, again and I hope she's staying safe. There was something in her voice last night that has me worried and I can’t do anything until she opens up to me. I check the time and see it’s seven a.m. which makes it about four a.m. her time. I notice myself checking the time like that more often every day. I type out a text so when she wakes up, my message will be the first thing she sees. Hopefully making me the only thing Ashley can think about all day and night like I do with her.

  Me: Good morning beautiful. I count down the days until I can see your gorgeous smile. Feel your body flush with mine. Hear your voice scream my name in pleasure. As I lose myself in your beautiful body.

  XO-Nolan

  I hit send and toss my phone down on the desk. Groaning to myself, I rest my hands on my head. What was supposed to get her all worked up, turned against me and I close my eyes, pleading with my dick to take a backseat. I don’t need another cold shower.

  Iverson knocks once and enters my office. He takes a seat in the chair across from my desk and folds his arms over his chest. “That went well. The old man was sobbing the whole way down and out the lobby. I called Ramirez, and he’s on his way over to watch the house. I don’t think Mr. Sawyer will hold it together for long.”

  “He’ll spill everything to his wife by the end of the day. I’m going to make a call to Christian in a few minutes and get him on it, get these cons arrested.”

  He’s still glancing at me like he has something else to add. I raise an eyebrow at him. He’s been acting strange lately.

  “Is there something else?” I ask.

  Hesitating for a moment he finally responds, “Nah, I’m good. Have you talked to Xavier lately?”

  “Yeah, we’re meeting for lunch in a little while. Why what’s up?”

  “I’m probably being paranoid because their case hit a little close to home for me. I feel like something's off.”

  I take what he says seriously. Iverson’s gut instinct is usually right on. That’s why he is the best, after me. I’ve been feeling it too, but I thought it was because of Ashley.

  “I’ll do some digging into Calabrese today. Make sure he is keeping his word and won’t retaliate against Xavier or Izzy,” I say. He nods his head and stands up, leaving my office, but he turns back toward me at the doorway.

  “Thanks, Ryan. With Christian being involved with Mia, I need to make sure they’re safe. He might be my big brother, but I still need to watch out for him.”

  “Take a couple of days off, go spend it with him and Mia. You’re here just as much as I am. When
you get back, we’ll have some decisions to make." I hesitate to tell him what I want to do, but he needs to think about it while he is off. “Hey, Ashton.”

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “I have a proposition for you,” I say.

  Iverson comes back into the room and takes a seat again. He looks on edge and I put him out of his misery.

  “I want to make you a partner here. Instead of me being your boss, I want to bring you on board.” Iverson’s eyes grow wide at me and he’s at a loss for words. I hold a hand up before he can say anything. “Just think about it for a couple of days. Don’t give me an answer now. You’ve been loyal and trustworthy. You’ve been here with me almost the whole time and if it weren’t for you, I might not have made it this far with A.R. Security. Your knowledge and background fit perfectly here, and I want to make you a partner. You’ve earned it.”

  Iverson is still sitting in the chair, processing everything I just said. Yeah, I laid a big one on him, but it’s time to bring him into the fold. He does most of the work anyway, it’s only right I reward him for it.

  “Go and take a few days off. Think about it. Run it by Christian, see what he says. Like I said, you've earned it.” Iverson stands up and nods his head.

  “Thanks boss,” he says and leaves my office.

  I sit back in my chair and swivel it around to look out the window again. I’m lost in my own head for a little while, thinking back to a sweet blonde with long legs.

  Chapter 9

  Ashley

  It’s been a few months since I’ve been back from Michigan. It’s still not safe to have Nolan come out. Shaun is working to create a stand against me to the 38th Street Gang. He’s been trying to penetrate my family and turn people against me. Word has it he’s been successful in some areas, so I’ve been going to fewer races and any business I do, I have to do it carefully. The threat against me is worse than before. Sometimes I wish I had just taken him out years ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it or have it done. He made me realize what I was missing out on and for that he lives.