Savage Company

By Crystal Perkins

A second chance he’s not sure he deserves.

Haring Kingston lost everything, because of the bad choices he made back home in D.C. Embarrassed at being saved by his sister, and his friends, he drowns himself in alcohol, and one-night stands. Until the femme fatale with the flaming red hair puts him in his place, and the man the world admires offers him the job of a lifetime.

A secret that could kill them both.

Natasha has a job to do, and his name is Haring Kingston. She doesn’t expect to fall for his cocky attitude, beautiful soul, or sexy hair. But, how can she resist all that? When she realizes can’t, she puts them both in danger, vowing to save his life over hers if it’s the only choice.

The future they’re going to have to fight for.

When the dust settles, and everything’s revealed, they both have choices to make. Will Haring forgive his Vixen for her lies? Can Natasha forgive him for his words? Friends and family try to intervene, but is their love too savage to survive?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Crystal Perkins
• Release date: Aug 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370374939

Crystal Perkins

Crystal Perkins has always been a big reader, but she never thought she would write her own book, until she sat down and did it. She lives in Las Vegas, where you can find her running author events when she isn’t reading, buying too many Sherlock t-shirts online or watching the Vegas Gokden Knights. A mac and cheese connoisseur, she travels the country looking for the perfect version, while attending book conventions and signings as a cover for her research. She writes Romantic Suspense, New Adult, Romantic Comedy, Young Adult, Paranormal Romance, and even a little Horror!

Book preview

Prologue

Haring

Being exiled from the only city you've ever called home warrants a drink, or two. Or five. Maybe six. I've lost count as I sit at this bar I’ve been frequenting for the last couple of weeks. It’s far enough from where my sister and friends live to provide me the anonymity I crave, but close enough for me to be able to afford an Uber back to my apartment.

"Are you going to leave any alcohol for the rest

of

us

?"

I look up into the face of a genuine femme fatale. She's got bright red hair that's styled in waves touching her shoulders, full red lips, and sparkling green eyes. Her body is encased in green satin, covering her from collarbone to knees, and the way it slides over her lush curves is sexy

as

hell

.

I wave the bartender over. "Give the lady whatever

she'd

like

."

I didn't ask you to buy me a drink.

"

Didn't

you

?"

I thought you might be too drunk to notice the invite, but I guess I was wrong.

I'm not drunk. A little tipsy maybe, but not drunk. It's an important distinction for me right now. One I plan on

holding

onto

.

"Whatever

you

say

."

"My name is Haring, and I fuck hard, and rough. Anything else you need

to

know

?"

Well, you're not red, so that's disappointing.

It takes my fuzzy brain a moment to catch on to her joke, but I chuckle once I get it. "Haring, like the painter, not herring, like

the

fish

."

Even more disappointing. Hmm...I should probably pay for my own drink.

You'd rather I be deceiving?

"Intriguing. I want to be intrigued, and dancing bodies with no faces don't do it

for

me

."

"Last time I looked in the mirror, I had a face, so I'm not seeing a

problem

here

."

Yes, you have a very nice face, but all I can think about right now is those paintings your namesake created. I might even have nightmares tonight. She shudders a little to prove her point.

"You're really going to let my name chase

you

away

?"

Please don't talk about chasing. I was serious about the nightmares.

I could keep you awake all night.

And damn if I don't want to. Keeping her up with my cock, my tongue, my fingers—whatever she wants—is a good plan, if only she’d get on board

with

it

.

Tempting, but I'm afraid I have to pass. Thanks for the drink, Haring.

She starts to sashay away on her high heels, but I call out to her. "You never told me

your

name

."

No, I didn't.

I shake my head, and smile, because I was completely outplayed by the sexy vixen. If her drink wasn't on my tab at the end of the night, I might think the alcohol made her materialize in my head. But, no, she was real. Real enough to make me want more than just a random hook-up for the first time in a long time, and that's not something I can let happen. Wanting just isn’t in the cards for me anymore.

Natasha

This is bad. Really bad. Extremely bad. The baddest. Most bad. Whatever the hell the correct way to say it is, I’m living it

right

now

.

Haring Kingston is not supposed to look that good in person. Sure, I saw the pictures, but Holy Hell, they didn't do him justice. His messy hair looks like he just rolled out of bed, and ran his hands through it. It nearly drove me crazy with the need to run my hands through it. His piercing blue eyes, and that damn beard didn't help either. None of it helped. He smelled like a forest on a cool Fall day, and his voice is made for sex, all deep and masculine. How am I supposed to resist all that combined? Or even just one part of it? Why is nothing ever simple in my world? Even just one thing being simple would

be

nice

.

When he said he fucks hard, and rough, my panties pretty much disintegrated, and I almost took him up on the implied offer. I couldn't, though. I need more than one night with the sexy Mr. Kingston. A lot more, and tonight proves it's not just for the job I have to do. I can sleep with him—and I'm going to—but that's all it can be for me. If I let it become more, we will both end up dead when all is said,

and

done

.

1

Haring

Got a minute? Matt Corrigan asks, joining me at the keg set up in the backyard of his apartment building.

Shit. He's probably decided I've overstayed my welcome in one of the guest suites, since I've been here for six months. My sister keeps telling me no one cares how long I stay, but I know that’s not true. I see the pitying looks thrown my way, because they all know what a fuck-up I am. I see them, but I pretend I don’t, because none of us want to talk about it, especially

not

me

.

Sure.

You might have heard I'm building a new headquarters for the company, so we can have more space for everyone—and everything.

Yeah. My sister's excited about the thought of new technology, and a new cafeteria.

Everyone’s obsession with the damn cafeteria is amusing, so I can’t wait for them to see what else I have planned.

The Corrigan & Co. cafeteria is the stuff of legends. As someone who’s seen it, I can agree that all the hype is real. "Something better than the cafeteria? This I have

to

hear

!"

You too? he asks, shaking his head. The old building will come down immediately after we've moved, and I want to build something new there. A recreational center like no other, for my employees and their families. I'm toying with the idea of letting charities and schools use it sometimes too, but I still have to work out insurance logistics.

With basketball courts, and stuff?

"Basketball, baseball, soccer, tennis, hockey, a roller rink, an indoor water park, a full miniature golf course, really anything you can

think

of

."

Me?

Yeah. I think you'd be the perfect person to manage the day-to-day operations for me, and I want you to be in on everything from the ground up. I want you to work on the design, and decide what needs to be included.

That sounds like a dream come true, but after losing my first dream, I'm a little wary these days. You don't have to do that. I know I've been mooching, and I promise to get my act together, and find a job as soon as possible.

I don't offer people jobs unless I mean it, and the job I'd like you to find is the one I'm offering you. There’s no anger in his words, but the power and truth behind them hit me full force, and I find a big lump in my throat, as I try not to choke up at his faith and trust

in

me

.

"

Thank

you

."

Come see me on Monday, and we'll work out the terms.

He claps me on the back, and walks away, joining his wife and little boy on one of the covered beds around the pool. I'm humbled that he asked me to do this job, and jealous right now, because he has someone to go home to. Hell, I'm jealous he has a home at all. Not the place itself, but the feeling—and rightness—of knowing you belong. I lost that, along with the physical building I once owned, and I don't know if I'll ever get

it

back

.

It's those thoughts that bring me back to the bar I haven't been to in over a month, later that evening. The one with the femme fatale who walked away from me. I'm not here to see her, or at least that's the lie I'm telling myself right now, as I finish my second vodka of the night. I want to be clear-headed if she walks through the door, but I also need some liquid courage.

You're cut off, the bartender tells me, when I call him, to ask for a third.

I've only had two, I protest.

"Take it up with

the

boss

."

"Where

is

he

?"

"She is

right

here

."

I turn to see her standing behind me. Her. She's got her hair in waves again, and her curves are poured into black silk this time around. She looks even better than I remember, and I practically swallow my tongue as I take

her

in

.

You run this place?

"Yes. Do you have a problem

with

that

?"

Only when you're cutting me off after two drinks.

She tips her chin, and the bartender gets lost. "Two, or twenty, it doesn't matter to me. I just want you sober enough to talk

to

me

."

I thought you found me boring.

"You were coming here every night to get drunk, and fucked—and that's pretty damn boring

to

me

."

"

And

now

?"

Now, I might be willing to let you take me to dinner.

"I

don't

date

."

Pity, she says with a shrug. Your drinks are on me tonight, so you can leave any time you're ready.

"I'll be ready after a few more drinks, and a conversation

with

her

."

I nod to the brunette who's been eye-fucking me since I got here. I wasn't interested—and honestly, I'm still not—but mindless fucks are pretty much all I'm good for, and I need this woman to

realize

that

.

Even with Matt's offer, I still feel useless. I have a dream job offer, and I can only think of myself as a mess. I see myself as a failure, and nothing else. Because that’s what

I

am

.

"You won't have a conversation with me, but you'll have one with someone else. Got it. I'll stop wasting

my

time

."

She starts to walk away, and I grab her arm. "I'm not going to talk to her, Vixen. If I was in a place to talk to anyone, you'd be it. I just want

to

fuck

."

"You left out the 'hard', and ‘rough’

this

time

."

They’re a given, so no reason to mention them again.

"I'd tell you to come see me when you want more, but I'm not going to wait for you, Haring. I've got my own share of admirers, and they'd jump at the chance to have dinner

with

me

."

"

Cocky

much

?"

Honest, she replies, flipping her hair over one shoulder.

I don't need to look past her to see the men who are hungrily eating her up with their eyes. Hell, I'm one of them. Anyone would be lucky to go on a date with her, but I’m just not in the right place

for

that

.

I wouldn't be good company.

"Let me be the judge

of

that

."

One dinner. What can one dinner hurt? Maybe a lot, but I’m giving in anyway.

Where am I picking you up tomorrow night?

"I'll meet you at Public House 702

at

six

."

"Don't want me to know where

you

live

?"

A girl's gotta keep some things secret.

"Like

her

name

?"

It's Natasha, but I think I like you calling me Vixen.

Damn, if it doesn't fit the sultry vibe she's got going on. Both do, but I'm going for her given one first. Only I want something more from her. A piece of the woman she is when she’s with her friends.

Nat or Tasha?

Natasha.

"I'll ask again when I'm

fucking

you

."

She leans over to whisper in my ear, darting her tongue out to lick the shell of it first. "Unless you're a wizard, and your wand is magical, it's still going to be Natasha if I let you have the pleasure of my pussy."

I want to kiss her. I want to pull her mouth to mine, and claim her in front of this entire fucking bar. But, she's not mine to claim. Not now, and not ever. I'm only good for fucking. Playing and fucking. Fucking up and fucking. Yeah, I sometimes want more, but it's not going to happen

anytime

soon

.

I'll see you tomorrow, Natasha, I tell her, getting up from my seat, and walking out the door. After not-so-subtly brushing up against her, of course. She shivers, and unlike last time when she was talking about nightmares, I know she’s thinking of fantasies

right

now

.

Natasha

What does one wear on a first date the man doesn't even want to be going on? After much deliberation, I put