Shameless: Sheets 2 Streets MC, #2

By Anjalee Scott

Would you give up everything you are?

Cassidy Vandeleur

Tired of her sheltered life, the millionaire heiress seeks excitement out from under her father's thumb. She wants to prove to the world and herself that she is more than her money. She crosses paths with the L.A. Dragons biker gang and immediately detests their lifestyle. However, the enforcer has pain within his eyes that she can't ignore. Can a woman who is used to giving the orders take them from an alpha leader?

Axel Draven

The enforcer for the LA Dragons is trying to escape his complicated and haunting past, but the wealthy woman who yearns to be his just might make him face it head-on. She brings everything he's trying to forget into the light. As an alpha male, can he learn to be the yielding man she needs?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blushing Hearts
• Release date: Jun 5, 2018
• ISBN: 9781946212375

Anjalee Scott

An erotic romance author, Anjalee writes in these erotic subgenres: ménage, BDSM, mafia, paranormal/rocker, MC, and thrillers. She also has two steamy paranormal romances out for those who like less graphic content. Anjalee has been an avid reader since her childhood. Her love for writing began with poetry when she was 12.

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Anjalee Scott

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Copyright © 2018 Anjalee Scott

All rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database, or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-946212-37-5

Blushing Hearts

imprint of

Title Wave Publishing, LLC

Union, MO

Cover design by Xcite! DesignZ

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

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Books by Anjalee Scott

The Arrangement

The Craving

Reckless (Sheets 2 Streets MC)

Midnight Realm

Masquerade

Miss Mafia

Shameless (Sheets 2 Streets MC: Daddy’s girl)

Live your dreams, or someone else will do it for you.

—Anjalee Scott

Santa Monica, California

June 2017

Enough already.

After another heated disagreement with my father, I drove my Mercedes convertible out to my thinking spot along the coastline. It was the one place he couldn’t find me. I’d found the secluded cliff after my mother’s funeral five years ago. I was only sixteen at the time, and I’d spent two long years watching her slip away from breast cancer.

I sat on the large rocks and stared at the waves rolling in. My emotions stirred just as much as the high tide. My father just didn’t get me. He’d been too busy with his bank to go through my mother’s demise the same way I had. All his millions provided a beautiful estate, a staff of five, spa trips, designer clothes, and cars galore, but it cost us his attention. Until recently…

Last month, I dropped out of UCLA, where I had been majoring in finance management. The plan had been for me to work at, and then one day take over, Security Trust and Savings Bank, but plans change. At least mine did. I was tired of school and pretending to care. I had enough money in my trust fund, so why bother? Parties, bonfires, lying on the beach with friends, shopping on Rodeo Drive, and college had all become a dreadful bore.

I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for, but I knew I wasn’t going to find it if I continued to live a sheltered life.

I was restless…like the water I stared at.

It was 5:30 when I decided to head home. Time had slipped by along with a couple of sailboats in the distance. Unfortunately, home meant facing my father’s looks of utter disappointment, so I decided on a suite at the Beverly Wilshire instead.

I looked at my phone, which I’d put on silent, and saw that I had four missed calls from my father. I ignored them, though, and decided to call my friend Hilary.

She answered after the third ring. What’s up, Cassidy?

Hey, I just wanted to let you know I won’t be going home tonight. I’m going to the Wilshire instead, I informed her.

She sighed, Did you have another fight about school with your dad?

Yes, and it was a big one. He insists I’m throwing my life away and claims I don’t appreciate all he’s done for me. Maybe I should just move out. I mean, I’m twenty-one, so why not? I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel while stuck at a red light.

Hilary was saying something in response, but I couldn’t hear her over the obnoxious rumble of motorcycles nearby.

Hilary, I can’t hear you over these hoodlums. I’ll call you later when I’m settled in my room, I shouted into the phone while pulling into the Beverly Wilshire parking lot.

I watched the eight bikes go by before climbing out of my car. I couldn’t imagine what people were thinking when they rode motorcycles. They were loud and unsafe, and the bikers were tatted out and filthy. On the other hand, I had to admit they looked free.

I shook my head and quietly insulted them, You’re all probably a bunch of criminals.

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After I was checked into my swank room, I called Hilary back. Sorry about that. This biker gang was driving down the road, and the noise was deafening.

Ew, she replied. Bikers are so gross. I mean, get a job and a shower, skeezebag. She laughed at her own remark.

I agree. Anyway, I don’t want to sit around this room all night, so let’s do something, I suggested.

Okay, I’m down. Do you have to work in the morning? she asked.

I looked at my red fingernails, thinking I needed another manicure. No, I kind of quit, I answered casually.

She laughed, "Kind of quit? Did you quit or not, and what did he say about that?"

He practically had a coronary, I sighed. I told him I need some time away from everything to figure out what I want, and then I might or might not go back. I don’t know right now. I was talking about my job at my father’s bank. I worked in new accounts while he groomed me to take over for him one day. Hey, I’m going to go get a mani-pedi and then do some shopping. Do you want to come?

Absolutely. I’ll meet you at Nail Elite in about forty-five minutes, okay?

See you then. Bye. I hung up and braved the outdoors again.

Since it was finally sunny after two days of rain, I put the top down on my Mercedes convertible and clipped my long blond hair up. As I drove around Santa Monica, I cruised by a rowdy looking bar called The Outsiders and noticed a row of motorcycles out front.

Ew. Shouldn’t you be in East L.A. or something? I mumbled to myself. You certainly don’t belong in my neighborhood.

When I pulled into the salon’s parking lot, I noticed Hilary’s BMW already there. She looked up from the magazine she was impatiently flipping through.

It’s about time, she scolded. I was beginning to wonder if you stopped off for a latte.

I shot her an annoyed glare. Well, I considered it. Seriously, traffic was a nightmare, and every light was red.

We were called over to two open stations to start with our pedicures. I picked out a hot pink polish, and she chose white.

You’re too misbehaved for white, I teased.

She arched her waxed eyebrows and replied, I think that only applies to wedding gowns. Besides, I’m going to get a spray tan, and it will look good with that.

We chatted about where to go for dinner and clubbing while getting our nails done. We decided to dine at Mastro’s Penthouse and then hit the swank clubs in Beverly Hills. First, though, we did major damage to our credit cards on Rodeo Drive. I walked out of Gucci wearing a black and gold strapless while she opted for a red blouse and short black skirt. Then we accessorized our feet with new stilettos from Jimmy Choo and went to dinner.

We went to a few nightclubs before settling on Club Envy. It had the best crowd and music and even some attractive men. Neither of us were involved with anyone, so it was open season. We chose a table for two in the corner, and two guys approached us almost immediately.

The tall blond introduced them. Hi, I’m Tristan Cavanaugh, and this is Nick Martin. Can we buy you ladies some drinks?

I smiled back at him and replied, Sure, I’ll have a dirty martini. Hilary ordered the same.

Tristan waved over a waitress and ordered the martinis along with beers for themselves. So, what’s your name? he asked me.

My name is Cassidy Vandeleur, and this is Hilary Whitton, I told him. Are you from Beverly Hills?

Nick smugly answered for them, We’re from Bel Air, and we both attend the University of Santa Monica, pursuing degrees in medicine. What about you two?

I looked at Hilary and swallowed back the truth. We attend UCLA, and I’m studying finance management, but she is studying fashion.

They bobbed their heads as if I’d impressed them.

Are you involved with anyone special? I don’t want to step on another guy’s turf, Tristan remarked, and I was surprised. Usually, the guys I met didn’t care if they were chasing someone else’s tail. They usually liked the competition.

Nope, Hilary chirped. We’re just two single gals on the town.

Tristan grinned at me and mumbled, Lucky for us then.

The waitress showed back up with our drinks, and I took two big sips to relax. It had been several months since I’d met anyone I liked. After some drinks and conversation, they asked us to dance, and the hours quickly drifted by.

With a yawn, I told him, I need to get home now but thank you for a nice evening. I had fun.

Can I call you sometime? he asked, and I gave him my number.

I pulled Hilary away from Nick and took her back to her car at the restaurant. She seemed disappointed that I wanted to leave, but she didn’t fuss about it.

So, did Nick ask for your number? I inquired. Tristan got mine, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever go out with him.

She looked sideways at me. Why not? He’s cute and from a good neighborhood. You should go for him.

I shrugged. I don’t know. He is a cookie cut-out of the guys I’ve already been out with, and something is always lacking. I get bored with them. There’s no excitement.

She rolled her eyes at me. If you want excitement, go skydiving or take up surfing or something. Men are just playthings anyway. Use them to get what you want and then move on.

I cocked my head at my friend. You’re taking lessons from your mother, aren’t you? I jested. Do you want to end up with four ex-husbands too?

She studied her manicured nails. It wasn’t so bad. She was always well-provided for, and she gets enough alimony to keep us living in style.

I looked away and sighed. Well, I can do that by myself. I don’t need some random guy’s money. I just need…excitement. I’m bored.

So, are you going to hook up with an actor with a drinking problem then? she teased.

I don’t know. Anyway, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’m sleepy. I started the engine as she climbed out of my car.

Good night, she called out and climbed into her BMW.

I drove straight to the hotel and hopped in the jacuzzi tub to soak my troubles away before turning in. All night long, I had sex dreams about Jared Williams. He was a guy in my graduating class from high school, and he’d always had a bad attitude. He’d done anything and everything to shame his family, including getting arrested recently for insider trading. And my dad thinks I’m behaving inappropriately.

You can’t go home again.

After a light breakfast of grapefruit and coffee, I went back home, knowing my father wouldn’t be there. He’d left a note for me on my bathroom mirror.

If you’re going to stay somewhere else, I’d appreciate you being grown-up enough to let me know, so I don’t have to worry about you.

I rolled my blue eyes and sighed. This was going to remain a problem if I stayed under his roof. I took the classifieds with me out to the pool and read through the apartment listings before doing my laps.

Excuse me, Miss Cassidy, I’m just going to clean up the deck area, Sean, our pool boy, announced with a pleasant smile. He was twenty-five and cute. We’d enjoyed a mild flirtation for months, but nothing would come of it.

Sure, go ahead, I replied and climbed out of the heated water, so he could watch the droplets run down my flat abdomen. I’m done out here anyway.

I dried off and changed into my spandex workout clothes. My personal trainer, Jake, would be arriving soon for my session. He was tall, buff, handsome and in his early thirties. I’d only hired him a few months ago to help me get serious about healthy eating and fitness. I was determined not to follow in my mother’s footsteps when it came to my health.

The doorbell chimed, and Brenda, the downstairs maid, announced Jake’s presence before sending him to the home gym. I was already in there doing my warm-ups.

Are you ready to work up a sweat? he asked with an easy-going grin.

I nodded while taking a drink from my water bottle, and I watched his muscles flex as he set out the weights he wanted me to work with. His body was too muscled for my personal taste, but it was still sexy.

Start on the treadmill for five minutes while I set everything up, he ordered.

You’re the boss, I noted and set the machine up for the level of intensity I was accustomed to.

I started off with a brisk walk, but then I sped the machine up and jogged, wondering if he noticed my tits bouncing. I was wearing a sports bra, but there was still jiggling. When the machine shut down, I stepped off and did my stretches.

He started me off with free weights and then moved me through the various equipment, working out all my major muscle groups. By the time I was finished, I had sweat pooling at my feet. I thanked him for the session and booked the next one before climbing into the hot tub to relax my sore muscles. I was only in it a few minutes when my phone rang, interrupting my oasis. I didn’t recognize the number, so I let it go to voicemail. I closed my eyes and went back to soaking away my stress, but the phone rang again. Aggravated, I picked it up, prepared to yell at whoever was on the other end, but it was Hilary, so I calmed down.

Pizza Palace, I joked.

She played along. I’d like a small pepperoni pizza with a really hot delivery driver.

I had to laugh. Is that your fantasy? Do you fantasize about doing the delivery guy?

All the time, she teased. So, have you heard from Tristan?

I thought about the missed call and replied, I’m not sure. I had an unknown number come up, but I let it go to voicemail because I’m trying to relax in the hot tub.

You should listen to it and call him back pronto, she chastised me. Don’t let your stubbornness keep you from a possible match.

I took a deep breath and sighed. I didn’t want to deal with man drama with everything else I had going on. I’m thinking about going to the beach in Santa Monica. Do you want to come?

There was a pause before she asked, Do you mean to your secret hiding place? Are you finally going to show me where it is?

Yeah, I mumbled. I guess I can trust you with the location, but if you ever squeal…

Do you want to meet there? she chuckled. I can meet you at the pier.

Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll see you there in thirty minutes or so, and wear your swimsuit, so we can lie out, I answered while climbing out of the hot tub.

Sure. See you then, she remarked and hung up.

I changed from my wet black bikini into my hot pink one, covering it up with a T-shirt and shorts. I considered scribbling a note for my father, but then decided against it. I’d probably beat him home, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to stay when I got there. I’d