Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend

By S.N. Garza

***for mature readers due to sexual content, graphic language, and violence. Not for young adult readers***

He will show her a world she never imagined.

She will show him how to open his heart to love.

Scarlet Castle is a small-town girl with big-city dreams. Ever since she can remember being a dancer on Broadway has been her goal, but downtown Houston is as far as she’s gotten.

Dax Dixon keeps the books at Saints and Sinners Lounge, a well-known cabaret in the heart of Houston. He’s also the grandson of a hard core motorcycle club president. No one can prove the club is full of criminals, but Dax doesn’t need proof for what he already knows. And he also has no intention of being involved.

As for the opposite sex? They were only good for one reason.

Then he meets Scarlet. Then all bets are off.

One night at the lounge Scarlet becomes a witness to a crime, living proof that the MC is not as pure as they want people to believe. Dax’s grandfather wants to eliminate her and he sends someone she least expects to get the job done.

Can Dax get to her in time to save her from the MC determined to destroy their future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.N. Garza
• Release date: Oct 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311011534

S.N. Garza

I am a 37 year old wife and mother of two who lives in a small country town in southeast Texas. I work during the day at Chilis Bar and Grill. I write dark, deeply emotional stories weaved with erotic romance that leaves you wanting more. My debut novel is Love Came Back & my best selling book & series, is The Billionaire’s Baby, book one in my Nauti Billionaires of Houston series. It is all sexy passion with an alpha hero who’ll sweep you off your feet.

Book preview

Prologue

Scarlet

Age 4

Christmas Eve, 1996

Mom knocked on the door. I’ve never been to this house before. Or really any house before. It smelled like all the flowers we were surrounded by. There was a kaleidoscope of flowers around the wrap around porch. I fell instantly in love with it. I wished I could go up to them and smell them. I bet they smell really pretty. I must have been leaning, trying to get a whiff when my hand got tugged hard and mom banged on the door harder.

I know you’re in there, mother. Your truck is parked in the driveway and I saw the curtains move.

Mother? Mom never mentioned we had family before.

She pounded on the door one last time. Panting and huffing as if she was the big bad wolf ready to huff, and puff, and blow this pretty house down.

I heard a few clicks and the door swung open none too gently. A woman who didn’t look very old stood in front of mom with a look of apprehension. She had a few gray streaks lining her hair and she never took her eyes off my mom.

You run away with that boy when you’re seventeen. Didn’t call, didn’t write and disappeared for four years and when it finally suits you, you show up? Well, Marybeth, I am your mother. That palsy little note saying ‘you found the love of your life and to not wait up’? I waited up for you, missy. You’re my only daughter. Did you think I didn’t want more for you?

My mom released my hand and placed her hands on her hips in the way she did when she started to get aggravated. I stepped away because I knew where that usually leads. Being punished.

Get over it, ma. I’m here now.

The other woman still hadn’t even noticed me yet. She looked really sad. As if her heart was breaking right in front of me. Tears shined bright in her eyes but I saw her jaw clinch as if she didn’t want to. I didn’t want her to cry because of my mother either. I cried enough as it was. My mother would probably hit this lady.

So I said, Don’t cwy, pwease.

That’s when her head whipped down and she gasped. Her eyes widened as they took me in. I was wearing my favorite clothes today. My ‘My Little Mermaid’ sweater (it was winter and my favorite person) and my legging skorts and purple jelly sandals. Mom let me dress myself for as long as I can remember.

Marybeth, who is this?

My daughter. Your granddaughter?

The older lady looked at me with wide eyes and she had placed her shaking hand up to her lips. Truly?

Yes. We just need a place to stay for the night before we move on.

Yes, yes. Come in.

The lady, who I now figured out was my grandmother, couldn’t keep her eyes away from me and I could swear there was wonder and then some sadness in her eyes.

"I never knew-

But my mother brushed her way inside, which pushed her mother back a step. I wondered why mom was being so mean. This woman, my grandmother, seemed really nice. Mom dragged me into a sitting room where an old TV box sat with a VCR, and floral furniture surrounding it. And a pretty wooden coffee table.

I see nothing has changed. Just sit down there, Scarlet.

I let go and sat at the edge of one small couch waiting for something to happen.

Although mom just said nothing had changed, my view changed. I have never sat in a house before. The only places I could remember were motels, and if we were lucky, an apartment every now and again. The cheaper, the better my mother always said. While my mother did whatever is was she did, she usually just kept me in the room by myself and told me to eat whatever we had left over. Which was pizza or Chinese food.

Yuck.

I hated Chinese food. For some reason the smell totally made me feel sick to my tummy. I don’t think my mother ever cooked or I don’t remember it. So a lot of times I didn’t eat.

The older woman came down and sat next to me, with a serene smile on her face and I felt instantly calm.

Hi sweet girl. I’m your grandma. You can call me Nana. I hope we get to be real good friends.

My mother stomped her way (which was normal for her) and huffed, I don’t plan on staying here. We just need some sleep if you don’t mind. Then she turned and clomped her way up the stairs.

⟡

My mom stayed up in her room for the rest of the night. She didn’t even come down for dinner except to grab a plate of spaghetti and went back to the room. Nana told her to stay in the kitchen and eat but mother didn’t listen.

Nana had been talking to me most of the evening about her favorite things. How much she loved her husband, my grandpa Alan. How he was a real man’s man (whatever that meant). How even though they didn’t have much, he still went out of his way to get little things for her, to show her how much he loved her. Then she started in how she loved old-timey movies. Like the ones with Fred Astaire, Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland. All the great singers and dancers of their time.

I sat there glued to the seat just in fascination to listen to her talk about it. She showed me her small collection of movies and I just looked in all the magnificent splendor. I’ve never seen anything so grand in my little life. I hope mom wanted to stay here.

Nana asked me if I wanted to watch one and I ‘yayeed’ up and down with excitement and she just laughed and told me to get comfortable on the sofa. She pushed in a movie called ‘Guy and Dolls’ and as she sat next to me, she pulled me close into her side, so I leaned in and snuggled up to her. Falling asleep for the first time with a comfort I’ve never known before.

⟡

Waking up, I felt weird. The comforter around me was snuggled around me and I burrowed deeper. I wished we would never leave here. I scooted myself out of the bed and went in search for mom. She wasn’t in the room she said was hers, so I thought maybe she was in the kitchen. I started walking down the stairs when I heard a clanking and shuffling coming from that direction.

I walked into the kitchen sleepily, saying, Mom, it’s so early. What time is it?

Baby girl. It’s your Nana.

I finally widened my eyes good enough to see it was Nana. Where’s mom? She’s not in her bedroom.

Nana walked up to me and led me to sit down on the floral sofa we sat in last night. Scarlet, my sweet girl, your mother left.

Left?

Left? Did she go to the store? Do I need to start packing?

She took my small hands into hers and I saw a tear stream down her face. No, baby, you don’t need to pack.

Don’t cry Nana. She’ll be right back.

No baby-girl. She isn’t coming back.

1

Eighteen years later…

Dax

Fuck. About time this chick came. I was getting tired of pounding my dick into her. This bitch has been clingy all night at the club and I finally said fuck it and drove her back to her place. It didn’t take her long before she was taking off her clothes and fingering her pussy, trying to egg me on.

She fell asleep after I put it to her, I got up, went to the restroom, got rid of the double condom I wore-damn right double condom. I didn’t know this bitch from Eve, I was making sure nothing seeped into her cunt.-I know that’s crass, but that’s how I am. Been raised by a man who owns a strip club and a woman who took over when he kicked the bucket, made me not care what people thought about me and I learned a lot from the Jack’s that occupied the lounge.

I cleaned my dick, then walked back out into the bedroom. She was still out to the world so I located my clothes, donned them, and picked up my wallet and phone. (Made sure my green was inside, yeah, some chicks thought they’d get the slip on me but I learned that shit real quick and at an early age, never trust a dame you just took to bed.) Yup, everything was right, shoved them into my front pockets and left.

I hadn’t had a new girl in a while. A few weeks at least. I didn’t keep them long though. A few months maybe. Most of them didn’t like how commanding I was. I told them up front what I liked and how I liked it. I liked testing their limits. The room I had at The Club, basically a sex club in the heart of Downtown Houston, I kept a trunk full of different sex toys. What can I say? I loved kink.

Right now, I didn’t want to have to deal with breaking in a new girl. Just a quick bang and beat it.

I was young and didn’t plan on marrying anyone anytime soon. No bitch was gonna hold me down. The way I grew up, with men leering at the strippers and around nothing but women in a gentlemen’s lounge, made me figure out what I didn’t want. At least half of those women were like the chicks I had just now. Clingy, needy, and desperate for a sugar daddy. I was no one’s sugar daddy.

During the day, I ran the books at Saints and Sinner’s Lounge, a Cabaret in Downtown Houston. My father, Mike, had it as a gentlemen’s club, where the women stripped and danced and you paid a hefty sum for membership. Now that Danny, yeah, she preferred it if I called her Danny instead of mother, (go figure), took over after he died, she wanted it to be more than just a strip club. So she paid a shit load to add another level, so memberships still were paid for the more exotic type shit on the top level where the girls who stripped, stripped and the personal lap dances and shit happened. The bottom level was the bar and cabaret, where the girls danced and put on a good show. We were a legit place and I meant to keep it that way. Mike had let shit slide sometimes and a few douche’s got out of hand with a few girls. E.I: Cops came, the club was fined, and the place lost some business. I didn’t necessarily want to work in this place, but what could I say I was kind of a momma’s boy in some respect. She didn’t ask me much for shit, but when she did, I didn’t have a problem with it. I just did it. One of them being the financial guru in SnS.

Some of the younger girls of the lounge would get there sometimes super early with the excuse of ‘extra routine practice’, but come on. Gimme a mother fuckin’ break. I hated doing the books in the office sometimes, so I took the ledger into the main room and took care of business. I hated offices. Stuffy closed-in spaces. Danny’s office was big but she did a lot of sewing shit in there. Her and her bisexual seamstress Sebastian. Most times, all I heard was their jabbering. Every now and then they try to ask my opinion, but I honestly didn’t care about dancing girls. They were a dime a dozen in places like this. Stating the obvious much? Ha-ha-ha.

If I sat in the main room, sometimes some of the dancers would try and talk loud, trying to get my attention. Talking about girl shit and their bodies. Like I wanted anything to do with that. Every once in a while one would get brave, saunter up me, swaying her skinny ass hips, bouncing her fake ass big titties, lean down so said fake ones would almost be brushing up in my face before trying a lame come on line. Trust me, I shot that shit down real quicker than quicksand.

One thing about me, I fucking hate aggressive and pushy women. They get ideas on how they think they’re gonna tame a man into some metro-sexual guy, who will carry their purses, end up driving a Prius, get manicures, waxed, and have creamy lotiony hands, eat sushi, and shit. Fuck, someone please take my balls. I don’t need them. That day comes, when any of that happens to me? Take my fucking man card, I’m in line to get neutered and be feminized. I don’t want a lapdog but some women want to be the pants wearer in the relationship. That just don’t sit right with me. Maybe that’s why I go for the submissives from the club I’m a member at, aptly named, The Club. It’s a lifestyle club, a BDSM culture that circulates the darker and sexually sensual. Women there knew what they are getting into and I never had a problem. Until lately.

Something just feels different. The women I have all seem the same. Their faces blend with the others and I can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong lately. I’m a healthy man of twenty-seven. Barely in my prime. I’m fit, and toned from working out seven days a week. Stamina and endurance is not the problem. For sure. But lately, it just seems like I’m going through the same shit just on a different day. Over and over. It’s not like I’m having a midlife crisis. I pray I live to be an old man, and twenty seven is not the middle of my life. It’s just starting. So why do I feel so fucking peculiar?

Every chick feels the same, looks the same, and sounds the same. I loved my life and the way I lived it but I needed a change obviously. This shit just is not right.

Leaving no-name’s apartment, I made it down to my truck. Yeah. I owned a big black jacked up truck on 35’s. I was a tall man, six foot six inches, I needed a vehicle to accommodate that. Well I also have my sports car, a black Chevy Camaro, but I only drove that on special occasions. When my father died, he willed me both his Harley Davidson’s he had. I rode them ever so often to just keep them going. His 1991 Dyna Glide Sturgis and 1996 Sportster 883. I didn’t care for my father and his way of life but I did respect those bikes and kept them in perfect running condition. I will say one thing of the old man, I will never be a part of the Sons of Dixon MC, but Mike taught me how to respect the bike and its position in life. But, enough of that shit, it was time to get out of this bitches place before she expects something more from me.

Getting in my truck, I started it where Buckcherry blasted the speakers and it was still early, around ten. I decided to go get me a drink. I didn’t want to go back to The Club, I didn’t feel like getting harassed. I lived over in Pasadena, in a huge ass house in Baywen Oaks Village. I liked the city but I needed to be away from all that shit sometimes. This house way far enough away from Danny too. She wanted me to ‘get settled’. Even tried to get me to go out on dates, some of them being the girls at the lounge. I always turned them down. The ones that were my age, were married and/or had kids. The ones in their early twenties were man eating sugar babies. I know Danny had to have known that, but she’s convinced herself I need to stop sowing my oats and fill up that empty house. I rolled my eyes every time she mentioned that one.

It was a Friday night and I was on my way towards Pasadena when I saw the Chili’s Bar and Grill. Fuck it. I’m thirsty. Pulling up and getting out, the parking lot looked packed. All I wanted was a drink. A glass of Crown Royal should do me quite nicely.

I walked in, and luckily they had one spot open at the bar top. I sat down and waited to be serviced. There was a big guy taking care of someone where his register was and a curvy girl with long dark blonde hair was at their well making drinks and wiping everything down. I waited a few minutes and when the big guy didn’t acknowledge me, I was getting edgy.

Hey. Blondie.

The curvy girl manning the wells turned, and her big light green eyes caught on mine. I didn’t even see a flicker of interest light her eyes. Lesbian. Had to be. I knew I was a good looking man. The fact her eyes didn’t even sparkle just made me think she swung for patches instead of stalk.

Hi, welcome to Chili’s, Al is your bartender, but he looks a little busy so I’ll get you started. What are you having this evening, would you like to start off with a Presidente Rita and maybe some Southwestern Eggrolls?

Ha. Nah. I’m good. I’ll take a double Crown straight. That’s it.

The girl got a glass and put two fingers liquor and passed it to me.

There you go, if you’re ordering just let Al know. With that, the girl finished wiping down the well within a few minutes, told the big guy named Al something and he looked to me, lifted his head and then told the girl something.

She walked back to me, told me to have a good night and she walked out of sight. I finished the drink and was lifting my wallet from the pocket when I saw her walk from the back towards the door.

Wait a sec.

What the hell was I doing? I laid a twenty down, put my glass on top and walked over to the girl, who actually did as I said. I towered over her. Some reason, I rather liked that. The girls I usually took to my bed were tall, slender and mostly models types. This girl was all the opposite. I couldn’t tell her body with the black collared shirt with the chili’s symbol on it, although she was wearing form fitting jeans, I wasn’t about to ask her to turn around so I could check out her ass.

She waited patiently for me to say something. However, all my mouth seemed to do was imitate a damn fish. Open. Close. Open.

Get it fucking together, Dixon. The girl just shook her head and turned, and pushed her way through the door. Damn she had a nice, firm, round ass made for grabbing, spanking and some other wicked hot things.

Ugh. I shook the lascivious thoughts from my mind and pushed through the door. She was climbing into an old fashioned truck that looked brand new. Damn. It was a nice truck. She must keep it in prime condition. Which I knew would cost a pretty penny. Damn, a little rich princess. Those were the worst kind of girls. Not what I want either. But then, why the hell she working in a restaurant? This intrigued me.

I caught her door in my hand, stilling it before she shut it closed.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to not say anything. I didn’t catch your name.

You didn’t.

Nice truck.

Ha. Yeah. Thanks. Is that the best you can do?

What?

I knew I was totally fucking up this conversation.

She chuckled with sarcasm and said, Never mind. I need to be getting home.

Where’s home?

That took her aback. Her eyes widened and then she started looking around nervously and reaching her hand into her small purse.

Shit. That didn’t come out right. Don’t answer that question and please don’t pull out the pepper spray you so totally got a firm grip on. I’m an idiot. I just wanted to know your name.

That’s when I saw her eyes get brighter and a smile splayed on her heart shaped face. It wasn’t an ugly face either. It was actually quite beautiful. It was dim in the restaurant and dark out here with her silhouette lit up only by her truck light.

Want in one hand, shit in the other. Which do you think will fill faster?

She sure had a mouth on her, than her face turned bright red and her hand flew over her mouth.

Oh goodness, I am so sorry. That was totally inappropriate of me to say. I read this Maya Banks novel today and that line totally stuck with me. I thought to myself, I’m gonna use that the next time someone wants something from me. But I am sorry. You’re a total stranger, then mumbled, ‘a hot stranger’, then said louder, but that is no excuse to be rude like that.

At least she thought I was hot. It’s okay. It’s funny. Your name?

She pushed herself inside her truck and put her keys in the ignition. What’s yours?

Dax. My name is Dax Dixon.

Dax. That’s an unusual name. Never heard of that before.

It’s my middle name. It’s what everyone calls me by. I don’t really care for my first name.

What’s your first name?

Declan.

What the fuck!? I never gave anyone my first name. The only people who knew my first name besides my parents were Sebastian, my mother’s best friend and a few select friends. But they never called me by Declan or Dec. I was named after my grandfather on my father’s side. They were of Irish descent and my mother was so in love with Mike that she did as he asked and gave me Declan as a namesake.

Declan. I like that. Well, I need to go.

Caught up in my own thoughts, I didn’t see her shut the door and rev up the engine. I tapped on her window and she pumped the window winder down until it was half way down.

I still didn’t get your name.

And you won’t.

Why ever not?

Why don’t you come earlier next Friday, I start my shift at six. If you want my name, come by then and we’ll chat for a minute. I’ll give it to you then. Maybe you need to earn it.

Earn it? I wonder what she meant by that.

What makes you think I won’t go back inside and ask for it?

Because. Just looking at you, it looks as if you need a challenge. Let it be a challenge. If you come, you’re genuine. If not, it’s no skin off my back. Bye Declan Dax.

Bye, Blondie.

Don’t call me Blondie.

Then she rolled up the window, backed up and drove away.

As I walked back to my truck, I couldn’t help but laugh. A vagina finally played me good. I did like a challenge.

2

Scarlet

It was a busy Friday night and I was ready to get out of here. Al had been a bigger TB than usual. He was actually a nice guy

Reviews for Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend

[Deirdre · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Good storyline. Sadly there were many grammatical and spelling errors, was there no proofreading or editing done?