Mad Dog Days: The Club, #3

By Karen M. Bryson and Ren Monterrey

Cali Gibson quit her dead end job in retail and made an arrangement through The Club.

All she has to do is date a wealthy man, who wants all of the benefits of having a mistress without any of the hassles of an actual relationship.

There's only one catch. Harlan "Mad Dog" Murphy wants an exclusive arrangement and Cali wants to sleep with her roommate, Joey "Rocky" Rocco... the guy who she has been in love with forever...the guy who is still in love with her best friend.

MAD DOG DAYS was originally published as a serial novel in three parts. This NEW EDITION is the COMPLETE FULL-LENGTH novel with no cliff-hanger and an HEA.

Each novel in the spicy, hot CLUB series can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Short on Time Books
• Release date: Nov 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540134790

Book preview

PART ONE

Fuck! I moan as I wake up enough to realize where I am.

That’s exactly what we did, a male voice beside me growls. A lot.

It’s David. A guy I promised myself I would never sleep with again. Not that we ever get much sleep when we’re together. It’s more like a few quick dozes in between our marathon sex sessions.

There’s one thing I can say about David, he knows how to fuck. He also has a girlfriend and it’s not me.

David’s made it infinitely clear that I will never be his girlfriend. I’m good enough to roll around in his bed, but I’ll never be good enough to bring home to his rich mommy and daddy.

Shit, David says, as he leaps out of bed. It’s nine o’clock!

So?

He stares at me and blinks a few times like he’s trying to figure out why I’m still in his bed. Fuck!

That’s what we did. I throw his words right back at him. A lot.

He rubs his temples. "How much did I drink last night?

I laugh. You don’t remember?

He points an index finger at me. You need to get dressed, get your shit and get out of here.

I make a point of stretching out on the bed. No.

No? He sounds incredulous.

You heard me.

Running his hands through his short brown hair he lets out a deep breath. You can’t be here.

"You didn’t have any problem with me being here all night. You didn’t have any problem with me being here when you wanted to get laid. So what’s the issue now?"

I was drunk and horny. When I called you came running. You know the drill, Cali.

Of course I know the drill. I’m good enough for sex, but not good enough for anything else.

His eyes keep drifting back to the clock as he bites his lip nervously. David is rarely nervous. He’s much too cool for that.

Expecting someone? I ask, even though I know it’s most likely his girlfriend is on her way back home from one of her business trips. I make no motion to move from the bed.

My girlfriend’s plane landed an hour ago. If she didn’t have so many bags she’d probably already be here by now.

You didn’t have to pick her up?

He looks at me like I’m insane. Her parents have a driver for shit like that.

And that’s the reason he’s with her and not me. At least that’s what I like to tell myself anyway. David is from a wealthy and well-connected family. His parents expect him to be with someone from an equally wealthy and well-connected family.

My family has always struggled to stay in the middle class.

I’m just a slut anyway. I’m sure that’s what David thinks. I’m the girl he calls when his girlfriend is out of town and he’s been drinking with his friends all night and wants some action.

Then I get kicked to the curb when I’m no longer useful. Apparently I’m only useful to David when I’m on my back with my legs spread wide. Or on my knees sucking his dick.

But David is smart. In about three seconds he’s going to realize his tactics aren’t working and he’s going to try a different approach. And three...two...one...

Babe, he says in a much softer and calmer tone. This is David’s seductive voice. The one he uses when he’s trying to get me into bed...and it works every time.

He moves around to my side of the bed and crouches down so we’re at eye level. Then he takes my hand in his. You know I care about you. As he rubs his thumb along my knuckles I get tingly all over.

Why do I always fall for his bullshit? I do it every time without fail.

You know if things were different—if my family was different—we’d be together.

If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line I’d be as wealthy as his family.

Then he places a soft kiss on my cheek and I tremble slightly. I wish I didn’t have feelings for David. It would make these booty calls a lot easier.

Fine. I heave a sigh as I rise from the bed. But I’m not coming back. I really mean it this time.

He grins at me. He never takes my threats to leave him seriously. And why should he? I always come back. Whenever he calls, or whenever I see him at the bar on Friday night, I always go home with him. I’m always right back in his bed.

Sure, he knows how to fuck. He’s really good at it. But is it worth the humiliation the next day when he kicks me out of his place? Is it worth knowing that I’m the one he had his dick in all night, but it’ll be his girlfriend who he takes to his parents’ house for brunch?

***

When I lumber back into the dump otherwise known as my apartment, I’m surprised to see my roommate sitting at the kitchen table. He’s staring into a ginormous textbook, but it doesn’t look like he’s actually reading it. He’s pushing his hand through his chocolate brown hair. The hair that’s a perfect match for his delicious brown eyes. Everything about Joey Rocky Rocco is delicious—or at least I imagine it to be. I don’t think I’ll ever get to find out though. He’s still hopelessly in love with my best friend, Rose, who is madly in love with someone else. 

I thought you had an exam today. I plop down at the table next to him, but my presence doesn’t seem to register. He’s still staring into the book.

Rocky! I clap my hands in front of his face.

His eyes dart up and he blinks for a few seconds before he looks me up and down. What happened to you? You look like shit.

That’s exactly how I feel. At least my exterior is an accurate representation of my state of mind. What’s your excuse?

He shrugs. He does that a lot. Not that I mind. It brings attention to his bulging muscles. Rocky isn’t a tall guy, but he’s definitely well built. And hot. On the days when I can actually get him to smile, he lights up the room with his charismatic grin.

I don’t think today is going to be one of those days though. Those days are actually becoming fewer and farther between. I think Rocky may be depressed. Not that I’m an expert in mental health. Crazy, on the other hand, I know a lot about.

When he slams his book closed, I’m a bit startled by the noise. What’s going on, Rocky?

He heaves a heavy sigh then looks up at me. I hate accounting. I’d rather chew off my own fingers than study this stuff. It’s mind-numblingly boring. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. I just can’t see myself doing this for the rest of my life.

Then do something else.

He raises an eyebrow. Like what? I wasn’t exactly a success at acting.

You were only out in LA a short time. Maybe you didn’t give yourself enough of a chance to get your career going.

I was out there for two years. Of course, my dad thinks that was two years too long. Most of my friends are already halfway towards earning their undergraduate degrees and I’ve just started taking classes. I don’t want to disappoint my parents again.

So you’re going to do something you hate for the rest of your life because you don’t want to disappoint your parents? That’s fucked up.

I rise from the table and grab my oatmeal and a bowl from the cabinet. Do you want some?

He shakes his head. I don’t know how you can eat that stuff. It looks like paste. It reminds me of those projects we used to do in first grade. What was that called? Decoupage?

Rocky and I have known each other our whole lives. We grew up together. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve adored him for as long as I’ve known him. I’ve been absolutely crazy about him. I would never say or do anything about it because he’s always been crazy in love with my best friend.

Have you ever even tried oatmeal?

He shakes his head. And I’m not going to. Don’t even think about it. I’ll stick with toast.

Fine. But there’s no finer food than oatmeal. Don’t say I didn’t offer.

As I fix a bowl of oatmeal for myself I also toast two slices of white bread for Rocky. We’ve only lived together a few weeks, since Rose moved out, but it feels like a lot longer. I think it’s because we’ve already established our routines. It’s like we instinctively fit together.

I put some butter and grape jelly on the table for Rocky. When his toast pops, I place it on a small dish with a knife and carry it to the table for him.

Thanks, Doll Face. When he gives me his big charming grin I can’t help but smile. His smile is contagious.

I’m not sure why he started calling me Doll Face. It just sort of happened one day after I made him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich because he looked hungry. He hadn’t even asked. I could just tell he needed it. He smiled at me, one of his enormous megawatt grins and said, Thanks, Doll Face.

That’s what he’s called me ever since.

When the microwave dings I remove my steaming hot oatmeal and place it on the counter. I quickly add milk and cinnamon and mix it to perfection. I also pour a glass of milk for Rocky.

I carry my oatmeal and Rocky’s milk to the table and take a seat with him.

Don’t you have to work? he asks, then takes a bite of his toast.

I shake my head. My new boss hasn’t assigned me a project yet.

Okay, so I’ve been lying to Rocky. Claudia isn’t actually a boss in any conventional way and I don’t actually have a job. And I’m not technically waiting for a project. Claudia is the owner of The Club. It’s a place for wealthy men to make arrangements for mistresses. I’m still waiting for Claudia to make an arrangement for me with a man who’ll give me monthly gifts in exchange for access to my body whenever and however he wants it. I don’t want Rocky to know that after quitting a steady job at the mall I’ll be relying on income from an arrangement.

But even more important, I don’t ever want him to know that I found out about The Club through Rose. And that her relationship with Jae Rothko, the love of her life, started out as an arrangement. Rocky would be completely and utterly devastated if he knew Rose basically sold her body, and her virginity, to Jae.

He gulps down his milk. It’s actually cute to see a guy as muscular and manly as Rocky drinking milk like a little boy. He loves the stuff. He can’t get enough of it.

Why are you so secretive about this new job of yours?

Why do you like milk so much? I ask, trying to change the subject.

He narrows his gaze at me. What don’t you want to tell me?

I’m an open book, I lie.

His gaze is laser sharp, almost like he’s looking right through me. I can tell he doesn’t believe me, but to my relief he doesn’t push the subject any further. Speaking of open books, he says instead. I need to get back to this. He points to his accounting text.

When he sticks his nose back into his book I take it as my cue to exit.

Rocky and I share one small bathroom so I relish every opportunity I have to hog the shower. I want to finally wash the stench of sex with David off me for what I hope will be the last time. I relax in the shower and allow the steamy hot water to beat on my back. For just a brief moment I let myself imagine what it might be like to take a shower with Rocky. Then just as quickly I chastise myself for relishing thoughts that I know will never happen.

As I step out of the shower it’s back to the reality of my shitty life. 

Once I’m dressed I glance at my phone and notice there’s a missed call from Claudia and a message. I press play and listen to her say, Three o’clock tomorrow.

That’s it. The entire message is three words. No pleasantries, just her curt command. I’m to be at her office tomorrow afternoon. And God help me if I’m late.

***

The Club is located in an upscale area surrounded by law offices and investment firms. The nondescript building blends into the neighborhood so well if you didn’t know exactly what you were looking for you wouldn’t even know it was there.

As I open the heavy front door I can’t tell whether my heart is pounding because I’m excited or nervous. Probably a little of both. My best friend and former roommate, Rose, made a great deal of money from her arrangement and she fell in love with the guy who hired her. I realize my experience probably won’t be the Pretty Woman fairytale that Rose’s was, but I hope I can at least make enough money that I don’t have to go back to working at the mall.

Without a college education or any vocational training I’m not really qualified for much. Selling clothes, or selling my body, seem like my best options. Hopefully an arrangement will be a lot more lucrative than selling skinny jeans to teenagers.

The reception area of The Club is completely deserted except for Cecilia, the gorgeous receptionist. She’s seated at a large, mahogany desk. Every time I see her I swear she looks like she just stepped off the runway during fashion week in Paris.

As soon as she lays her cat eyes on me she rises from the desk. Follow me.

I trail behind her as she slinks down the long hallway toward Claudia’s office. Cecilia opens the door for me and I enter the pure white office.

It’s in sharp contrast to the rest of The Club’s interior, which is rich, dark wood that screams old money. I suppose the décor is meant to appeal to the clients rather than the mistresses, which makes sense. They are the ones who pay the bills.

I have little doubt that Claudia, the owner of The Club, was probably just as gorgeous as Cecilia twenty years ago, but she’s definitely had one too many plastic surgeries making her appearance a bit freakish and fake looking.

Her desk is completely bare. She has no phone, no computer, not even a day planner. When she glances up at me Claudia’s eyes are as vacant as her work area.

I have a client who is extremely interested in meeting you. He’s looking for a college student.

She stares at me. Claudia and I have never discussed my educational status. Perhaps she just assumes I’m a student, but the closest I’ve ever gotten to a college campus is a frat party.

I don’t want to lie, but I also don’t want to miss out on an arrangement. So I just give her a