Read SMITH (The Beckett Boys, Book One) for Free Online Page A

quite twenty-one, stuck in Shitsville with the rest of us losers because he’s too stubborn to take my advice.
    Asher gets the fresh keg hooked up to the tap. When he’s done, he brushes his hands and looks at me. I know he’s seeking my approval, for me to not be irritated about him coming home. “Done,” he says.
    I give him a brief nod. “Next time, don’t wait until it’s fucking tapped. Keep an eye on it. If you’re going to be here, at least do your job.”
    He sighs and rolls his eyes at me, walking away. In the end, I just want the best for him. He may not like it, but so be it. I can’t worry about his frustration right now. I have bigger things on my plate. Like how the fuck we’re going to pay all our bills when we’re not making enough money. I’m barely paying the three of us as it is.
    I peer around the Monday night crowd. It’s thin, too thin. A couple of people by the pool table. A few scattered around the bar, drinking cheap beer. How do I get more customers to bring their asses in here, spend their money? What should we do? The pressure of keeping Dad’s business alive is squarely on my shoulders. We’re barely floating by each month.
    Fuck, I can’t even afford to hire anyone else outside of our family. Yeah, I’m pissed that Asher came back this summer, but it did relieve our stress a bit, giving us a cheap helping hand.
    The main door opens, and in walks Aubrey, wearing the tightest fucking jeans I’ve ever seen and a black T-shirt that looks painted on her skin. The outfit is simple but effective. Fuck me, she looks so good I want to jump over the bar and eat her alive.
    My whole body is thrumming upon seeing her, and my cock pulses, pressing against the fly of my jeans. Shit. I will myself to lose my instant engorgement. I’m not going to entertain this attraction I have for her. I can’t. Not only am I wrong for her, she’s wrong for me. She’s innocent and naïve, not my type. I like my women experienced. Hardened, distant, even cynical.
    I can take them to bed and we have some fun, but it never goes past that, and the kind of women I’m used to understand that. They enjoy it.
    But Aubrey is different. Aubrey wouldn’t be okay with the occasional fuck, the late night drinks followed by a blowjob. She would want to be wined and dined and she deserves that much and more.
    Only, I know I can’t give her any of it. I’m hardly keeping my head above water and the last thing I need is another person counting on me.
    Jax slides up beside me. “She is pretty,” he murmurs, giving her an appraising look. “Probably amazing in bed, too.”
    “Don’t even fucking thinking about it,” I retort. I don’t have any right to be possessive of her, I know, but I am. And I don’t want to spend any time mulling on the reasons why.
    Jax shoots me a knowing look. The fucker can see right through me. Always could. He’s so good at reading unspoken thoughts. A couple of women have asked him if he’s psychic. “You like this girl,” he says. It’s not a question.
    “Not at all.” I give a casual shrug, hoping he’ll buy it. “She’s not well suited for our bar. But I don’t want to be a dick to her or anything. We should just leave her alone.” There, a nice and easygoing answer. Nothing that reveals the true depth of my strange, unwanted feelings. The deep-down longing I have to tug her toward me again, taste her mouth again.
    To taste more. To rip those tight jeans down, shove her panties aside, and lick the fuck out of that wet pussy.
    I bet her come tastes amazing on my tongue.
    My cock throbs harder at the thought. I can’t seem to push the images aside quite so easily. Because looking at her, perched on the bar stool, so innocent and unknowingly sexy, makes me want to do wicked, dirty things to her. Mess up that glossy hair and watch her unravel for me.
    Jax shoots me a long look, then turns his back on me deliberately and moves over to her. “What can I get you?” he