Crazy Sexy Love (A Dirty Dicks Novel) Read online

  Crazy Sexy Love

  Copyright ©2018 K.L. Grayson

  ISBN: 978-0-9986253-4-8

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Designer: Kari March Designs

  Editor: Jessica Royer Ocken

  Proofreader: Alison Evans-Maxwell

  Formatter: Champagne Book Design

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  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

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Sneak Peek of Crazy Hot Love

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Other Books

  To my son, Kaden …

  Try everything at least once.

  Hold the door for a woman … and her hand.

  Approach everything with an open heart.

  Always be on time (punctuality is a virtue)

  Call your mom every day.

  It’s okay to cry.

  Think before you speak.

  Fall in love.

  Say please and thank you.

  Stay true to yourself.

  Women are complicated—but so are men.

  Wish on shooting stars.

  Chase your dreams, and when you catch them, dream again.

  Rhett

  “Are you crazy?”

  The door flies open, hitting the wall behind it with a loud thud, and every man in the locker room—myself included—looks up. My manager, Nikki Atwood, is a sight to behold: big tits, plump ass, and thighs made to squeeze a man’s head. And tonight she is dressed to the nines. Any other woman in that outfit would look out of place in a room full of bull riders, but she makes it work. I know every man in here is wondering what it would be like to dirty her prissy little ass up a bit.

  Except me.

  Been there. Done that.

  It’s not something I’m proud of, but I was young and dumb, and I refuse to dwell on mistakes of the past. And in my defense, when I slept with her, she wasn’t my manager. Not yet anyway, and I was nursing a broken heart. Had I known she would eventually slide into the role that had belonged to her father, I would’ve thought twice before getting my dick wet. But that doesn’t mean my decision to fuck her would’ve changed—because I was hurting, and she’s hot as hell, and any man would have a hard time turning her down—but maybe I would’ve given it more thought.

  “I ride bulls for a living, darlin’,” I tell her. “I’d say crazy is part of the job description.”

  “Don’t get cute with me, Rhett. You know damn well what I’m talking about. A bonus ride? On Lucifer no less.”

  “I just walked out of that arena with a 92.2 score. Thought you’d be happier about that.”

  “Oh, I am happy about that, and so are your sponsors.” She crosses her arms. “But imagine my surprise when I find out you signed up for a bonus ride. What were you thinking, and why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was thinking I could use the extra cash, and if I told you, you’d try to talk me out of it.”

  Her brow creases, and for a split second I swear I see steam coming out of her ears.

  “You’re damn right I would’ve talked you out of it.” Nikki stalks toward the middle of the room, plants her hands on her hips, and lifts an eyebrow at some of the other guys, a silent request that they get out.

  Lincoln Bennett, my best friend in this business, is the first one to move. Pushing up from the floor, he shoots me a good luck look and taps some of the other guys on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s give Rhett some privacy.” On his way out of the locker room, he tips his hat to Nikki. “Nicole.”

  “Thank you, Linc,” she says.

  She waits for the locker room to clear and then turns to me, eyebrows raised.

  She’s not going to intimidate me. “What?”

  “Don’t play dumb. You may be crazy as fuck, but no one ever called you dumb.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me.” I shrug. “They offered a fifty-grand bonus if I stay on for eight seconds. I couldn’t pass that up.”

  “They offered you fifty grand because no one has been able to stay on that damn bull for longer than four seconds.”

  “Until me.” I shoot her a cocky smile, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Until you. Riiiiiiiight,” she says. “Lucifer has been responsible for forty-seven injuries this year alone, and unless you’ve forgotten, you’ve got commitments outside of the arena, commitments that will earn you well over fifty grand.”

  “I’m well aware of the risk, and as far as Wrangler and Powerade are con—”

  “Gatorade.”

  “Whatever. The point is, bull riding is my job, and it comes first.”

  Fifty grand is nothing to Nikki. She was born into money, and even though she works her ass off, she doesn’t really need her job.

  She may come from cash, but I come from a ranch in Heaven, Texas. My parents—although they’re doing well now—have practically killed themselves for every dime they have, and even though I’ve got a decent cushion in my bank account, it’s not enough. It might never be enough. Being a bull rider is a precarious job, and it doesn’t always pay the best, which is why I’ve let her talk me in to a few modeling gigs and the occasional commercial.

  Every time I get on one of those bulls, I’m putting my career and my life at risk. If something happens and I lose the ability to work, I need to know I’m going to be financially stable until I find something else to do. So, yes, whether she understands it or not, I need that fifty grand.

  “Call it off.”

  She’s smoking crack. “No way.”

  As Nikki well knows, I don’t back down. If I say I’m going to do something, I do it, which is probably why she pinches her lips into a thin line and str
ides across the room. Her hand hits the door knob and she stops, but doesn’t look back.

  “You better stay on that fucking bull, Rhett Allen, or so help me God, your ass is mine.”

  “Not a problem, darlin’.”

  The smell of dirt, sweat, and testosterone-fueled beast fill the air as I weave my way through the back pens. I hear the announcer reveal the final special event as I slip on my gloves, and when I come into view, I’m bathed in a bright light. The crowd roars to life. I raise my arm, encouraging their cheers, and I’m reminded why I love this sport.

  It’s the thrill I get every time the gate opens, the adrenaline that rushes through me as I’m whipped through the air by a two-thousand-pound bull. It’s just me, that beast, a thunderous crowd, and eight seconds of pure fucking glory.

  Most people think I’m crazy, and I don’t deny it. Any man who regularly mounts a one-ton bull has to have something wrong with him.

  “You ready for this?” Dad asks, placing a hand on my arm.

  It’s tough on my dad to leave the ranch, but he insists on being with me as much as he can. And although I feel guilty pulling him away from my mom and siblings, you won’t hear me complain. He’s my rock, my mentor, the person who keeps me tethered to the life I left behind to chase my dream, and I count on him more than he’ll ever know.

  Smiling, I look up. “I was born ready.”

  “We’re really proud of you, son. Your mom and I, your brothers and Adley—we’re real proud of you. The whole town is piled in at Dirty Dicks to watch you tonight, and Beau is streaming your ride on his phone.”

  I picture the pub overflowing with patrons. Everyone packed in like sardines; beer sloshing from their mugs as they cheer me on. Dirty Dicks isn’t large enough to house everyone in town, but they’ll sure as hell try. With a population of 12,500, Heaven, Texas is big enough that not everyone knows your name, but small enough to have a Facebook page where you can catch up on who’s who. That town saw me grow up, learn to ride a bull, and break a few laws along with a few bones. Even though I don’t return very often, it’s still the place I call home.

  “Well then, I better give them a good show, huh?” Hoisting myself up on a rung, I fling a leg over the rail and ease myself onto the bull. Lucifer looks at me over his shoulder as if he’s offering me one last chance to hop off and save myself. I’m ranked number one in the world, cowboy, with a buck-of percentage of 88.89. You don’t stand a chance.

  I narrow my eyes. The odds are in his favor—even I’m not naïve enough to believe otherwise—but I’m too stubborn to back out now. “Bring it on,” I whisper.

  Lucifer huffs and thrashes from side to side, slamming us against the chute. Three sets of hands reach for me, and when the bull finally settles, they release their grip and I’m able to adjust my hand until it’s secure in the rope.

  And then, with the tip of my head, the chute opens. Lucifer flies through the gate with the wild fury only a bull on a mission can possess.

  Monroe

  “You need to show more skin,” Cooper says, eyeing my shirt.

  Looking down at the black shirt I’ve paired with skinny jeans and my favorite Chucks, I wonder how the hell I’m supposed to show more skin. I was proud of this outfit, considering my wardrobe consists mostly of concert T-shirts, boot-cut jeans, and my favorite pair of Ariats.

  “You didn’t say anything about skin,” I tell him. “If I remember correctly, you said a black button-up shirt and jeans.” I look to my co-worker and friend, Sean, for confirmation, and he just shrugs.

  Coop nods noncommittally while eyeing my chest. “We’ll have to get you fitted for a uniform top; I don’t have any extras. Until then, what color is your bra?”

  I reel back. “Excuse me?”

  He sighs and steps toward me. Without asking permission, he unbuttons my top three buttons and pulls my blouse open, revealing the slightest hint of my red lace bra.

  “Perfect,” he says.

  Heat creeps up my neck, infusing my cheeks, and I look down—not out of embarrassment, but because the sight of Cooper Allen with his hands on my body is almost too much. This has nothing to do with Cooper himself, but his identical twin. Rhett Allen was my first boyfriend, my first love, and the first boy to break my heart. I can’t look at Coop without thinking about Rhett. No matter how hard I try.

  I have to give Cooper credit, because while Sean makes a sound of appreciation at my newly exposed state, he doesn’t flinch. As if I’m a painting he’s studying, his eyes sweep across my chest, down my stomach, and land on my hips.

  “Lower,” he says.

  Grabbing my jeans, I tug them down until the waistband sits indecently low. I hold my arms out to the side, waiting for his approval.

  “You look hot,” Sean says, earning a wink from me.

  Cooper shakes his head and mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like I can’t believe I’m doing this and My brother is going to kill me, but I ignore it because I don’t care what anyone thinks. Least of all Rhett. I need this job.

  My days are spent running my dad’s non-profit, no-kill animal shelter, Animal Haven, and up until tonight I’ve spent my evenings bartending at Broadway Bar and Grill, a pub two towns over. They paid well, and I made fat tips, but after working a day at the shelter, followed by a thirty-minute drive, a six-hour shift at the tavern, and another thirty-minute drive home, I was exhausted.

  Needless to say, when Coop offered me a bartending spot at Dirty Dicks, I couldn’t turn it down. The hourly wage is less, but I’m willing to sacrifice that for a little extra sleep each night.

  “We’re laid back here. Have fun, keep up with the pace, and you’ll do great.”

  “Thanks, Coop. I appreciate this.”

  He smiles and nudges my arm. “Don’t mention it. We’re glad to have you. I have a few phone calls to make, but Sean is going to show you the ropes before we get too busy.”

  “Follow me.” Sean nods toward the door, and I follow him to the front bar.

  I’ve been inside Dirty Dicks more times than I can count. It isn’t the only bar in town, but it’s the most popular, and during my rare moments of free time, this is where I find myself. Knocking back a few with friends and shooting the shit is about the only way to spend a day off in this town—unless of course you’re into bull riding. In that case, you’ll need to drive a couple miles south of town to find a hoard of people every Friday and Saturday night, anxious to watch a slew of young men try their hand at riding a bull.

  That was the thing to do back in the day. I was a buckle bunny for sure, but those days bring back too many memories, so I focus on the here and now.

  Sean makes quick work of showing me the basics. I’ve worked behind a bar long enough that it doesn’t take much for me to fall into a groove. When the crowd picks up, another bartender joins our crew.

  “Sarah,” she says, holding out her hand. I take it for a quick shake.

  “Monroe, but you can call me Mo.”

  She grabs a pad of paper and stuffs it in her back pocket. “This your first day?”

  I nod. “First day here, but not my first time bartending.”

  “I hope you wore comfy shoes, because tonight will be crazy.”

  “Most weekends are.”

  “Tonight is different. Have you heard of Rhett Allen?”

  Have I heard of Rhett Allen? I’ve only spent the last six years trying to forget him. But she doesn’t need to know that. “Yeah, we went to school together.”

  Her smile is bright and mischievous. “Lucky you.”

  “What does Rhett have to do with tonight being crazy?” As far as I know Rhett hasn’t set foot in this town in well over a year and has no plans of doing so anytime soon. At least that’s what Coop tells me, and he should know.

  “Rumor has it Rhett signed up for a bonus ride.” She nods toward the two TVs against the wall. “The entire town is expected to pile in for the occasion.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Sarah,
get out on the floor. Table two needs refills,” Coop instructs, appearing from the back.

  With a quick smile and even quicker step, she’s off, and I turn to Coop.

  “You could’ve told me tonight was going to be swarming with Rhett Allen fans,” I say, lifting a brow.

  “It’s cute when you pretend not to be one,” he chides, winking before shoving me toward my end of the bar.

  The next few hours fly by in a flurry of activity as I do my best to keep my eyes off the TVs. First, I served a socialite and her glittery posse celebrating…hell, I don’t know what they were celebrating. All I know is they were fat tippers and brought a hoard of hot guys to my end of the bar. She and her posse eventually dissipated, leaving me with a beautiful view of Heaven’s sexiest cowboy bachelors. At least I think they’re bachelors—they’d better be, considering they’re flirting their asses off and asking to take me home. Lucky for me I’m able to stand my ground, refusing to melt under their heated gazes. They too eventually fade and are replaced by a pair of men who have made it their life’s mission to make me laugh. And as much as I appreciate their effort, I’m dying for this night to end. I am beat, and if I hear one more woman fawn over how tight Rhett’s ass looks in a pair of Wranglers, I’m going to scream.

  “Wait, let me try again!” The slurred voice tugs me back to the land of the living.

  “Oh no.” Shaking my head, I laugh, fighting back a yawn. “You’ve had four chances.”

  “Come on,” Bill begs. Or is it Bob? Braeden, maybe? Shit, I can’t even remember. There are too many men here to keep track of, and unfortunately for me, they’re all good looking.

  I hold up a finger. “One more chance, but you better recruit some help because this is make-it-or-break-it time.”

  He turns toward his buddy as I hustle down the bar to wait on another customer.

  When I return, he smacks his hands together. “We’ve got it!”

  Cooper walks up behind and claps him on the shoulder. “The only thing you’ve got is a ride home. I’m calling you an Uber.”

  He completely ignores Cooper. “You ready?” His glossy eyes are twinkling, and I almost feel bad for him, because he really does think he has a shot with me. If this were a normal day, and I were a normal girl, maybe he would. But that’s a big if, and I’m far from normal.