Levi: Everglade Brides, #2
By Ava Benton
2/5
()
About this ebook
A tiger shifter.
Levi just wanted to have a good time. Or so he thought. A sex club for shifters. What could go wrong?
A frantic hottie.
Becca shouldn't have taken the job. Never let desperation guide your decisions, right? Wrong.
Sometimes one wrong move can lead to all the right things. Or can it?
Now she's frantic to escape the sex club she never should have taken a job at. Except that she's considered property, and her owner isn't eager to have his property stolen.
Read more from Ava Benton
Related to Levi
Titles in the series (6)
Levi: Everglade Brides, #2 Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Jace: Everglade Brides, #1 Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Cord: Everglade Brides, #3 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsTrek: Everglade Brides, #4 Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5Demon: Everglade Brides, #5 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratingsPatriarch: Everglade Brides, #6 Rating: 0 out of 5 stars0 ratings
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Book preview
Levi - Ava Benton
Levi
Everglade Brides
Ava Benton
Contents
Everglade Brides: Levi
1. Levi
2. Levi
3. Becca
4. Levi
5. Becca
6. Becca
7. Levi
8. Levi
9. Becca
10. Levi
11. Becca
12. Levi
13. Becca
14. Levi
15. Becca
16. Levi
17. Becca
Epilogue
Excerpt Cord
Chapter One
Afterword
Everglade Brides: Levi
A tiger shifter.
Levi just wanted to have a good time. Or so he thought. A sex club for shifters. What could go wrong?
A frantic hottie.
Becca shouldn’t have taken the job. Never let desperation guide your decisions, right? Wrong.
Sometimes one wrong move can lead to all the right things. Or can it?
Now she’s frantic to escape the sex club she never should have taken a job at. Except that she’s considered property, and her owner isn’t eager to have his property stolen.
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1
Levi
Y ou know what sucks most about you being married now?
I tossed a pair of jeans onto the bed, just next to the phone.
Jace’s laugh filtered through the speaker and echoed through my room. What?
You never come out anymore.
I had a feeling you would say that,
he snickered.
Well? Because it’s true. You got married, and now you’re never around.
Sorry if I don’t feel like I have to go out every weekend anymore. I mean, what kind of message would that send?
Uh, maybe that your wife didn’t cut your balls off,
I suggested.
I heard that!
Gemma called out, probably standing next to Jace.
I laughed. Where do you keep them?
I asked her. In a jar by the bed? Maybe in your purse?
I’ll shove them somewhere unpleasant if you don’t stop tormenting my husband,
she warned.
Okay, okay. I know better than to push you.
I heard her laughing in the background as Jace came back.
So, what’s your plan for the night?
he asked.
I turned on my iPod and streamed the music to my TV’s sound system. One of my big vices was my music. I’d been going through 80s hair rock for a while, but was starting to get sick of that. I switched over to old glam rock soon after. The sounds of Ziggy Stardust filled my apartment as I finished getting ready to go out.
I’m not sure. Cord’s busy doing I don’t know what.
I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice when I said it since only wimps and babies got pissy when their friends weren’t around to hang out. But losing Jace was bad enough. Cord was the last straw. He swore nothing was up, but he still managed to disappear sometimes without an explanation. Like just then.
Don’t sweat it,
Jace said. God forbid you have to find friends or something.
Shut up. I have friends.
We’re all your family members, so it doesn’t count.
I’m gonna get off the phone now while we’re still speaking to each other.
I was grinning when I hung up, though, since knew he didn’t mean any of it.
Well, maybe he meant some of it.
The tight black t-shirt I’d pulled on while having my balls busted showed off my thick arms and chest, while short sleeves showed off the sleeves of ink on both arms. It was great work, really top-quality, and girls all seemed to love it. They’d ask what the different symbols meant. It was a great opening line, and it was usually obvious they thought they were the only ones to ever think of it. Of course, I would tell them whatever I thought they’d respond to best.
And they’d always believe me.
Kurt was usually up for something interesting, and that was what I was in the mood for.
Something interesting.
I was getting tired of the club, anyway. Always the same girls, wanting to say they got laid by somebody like me. Big deal. But it was the way they pretended they cared about something else. I was tired of it. Why pretend? If I wanted to get laid, I wanted to get laid. I didn’t feel like pretending to be interested in the girl first.
I called up my cousin—Jace wasn’t wrong when he said I spent most of my time with relatives, but when you had as many relatives as I did, it was tough not to. The Everglade clan was the biggest in Florida, one of the biggest in the country, and we had branches of the family just about everywhere. I couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting a relative. Never did understand that saying, either. Who would want to swing a dead cat for any reason?
You know,
Kurt said when I asked him what he was up to, I’m going somewhere tonight that I think you might be interested in.
That caught my attention. Where?
It doesn’t even have a name,
he explained in a low, quiet voice. I wondered where he was that he couldn’t talk openly, and just how secretive this place was, if it didn’t have a name.
What happens there?
I was picturing animal fights, which I was definitely not into, or something shady like that.
Anything you want.
Meaning?
I told myself I shouldn’t be so interested—nothing good could come out of giving the customers anything they wanted. I didn’t have much faith in the goodness of man or, in my case, shifters.
Meaning you go in, meet a girl you like and do whatever you want.
Oh. A sex club. Why the secret talk?
It’s not just a sex club. They use only human girls, and only shifters can visit.
That was interesting. And against the law. Well, not the law per se, but against the agreement between humans and shifters—unless the girls were there of their free will. Consensual sex was okay, paid or otherwise. Mating was okay. But not using humans for shifter amusement, or vice versa.
So like a brothel? I mean, are the girls paid?
Sure.
So, why so secretive?
Because it’s exclusive. It’s not like the club, where everybody knows the humans go to hook up with shifters. The clientele’s pretty top-notch.
Then how the hell are you a member of the clientele?
I snorted.
Funny. But I am. Go figure. And I can bring a guest if I want to.
So you wanna bring me?
I checked myself out one more time in the mirror before flipping off the lights, then went out to the living room to grab my keys. I checked my wallet to make sure I had a few condoms inside—after all, there was a higher chance of getting laid at a place like the one Kurt was describing—before sliding it into the back pocket of my jeans.
If you wanna come,
he replied.
Sure, I’ll try anything once. Cover charge?
Five hundred.
Excuse me?
I laughed out loud. What if I don’t feel like getting laid tonight?
The money for the girl is on top of that. The money’s for the open bar and, uh, atmosphere.
I heard a laugh in his voice and wondered what he wasn’t telling me. All he did was pique my interest, which I knew was what he wanted.
I’ll meet you there?
He chuckled knowingly. Sure. I’ll give you the address.
Downtown Miami was always busy, but especially on a Friday night. I wasn’t stopping anywhere there, though. I drove through and looked around at the people on the sidewalks, everybody looking for a little fun. Music blared from open car windows, from the clubs and restaurants up and down the street. My clan had been there since before any of it. I couldn’t imagine how boring it must have been.
I steered the Escalade through the people crisscrossing the street, and after a while, it quieted down. I was heading to a darker part of town—there weren’t any neon lights, no signs, nothing but office parks and quiet little roads that probably didn’t see much traffic at night or on the weekends. I guessed that was why whoever put the little club together put it together where they did. I should’ve asked Kurt who my host was, but he might not have known. There was a lot of secrecy, after all.
The building was squat, boxy. Nothing to draw the eye except for the line of cars in front of it. I pulled into an empty spot between a Mercedes and a BMW. So only a certain type of shifter could play, after all. When I got out of the car and looked down the line, I saw nothing but luxury brands—including Kurt’s Audi A8.
He clapped me on the shoulder when we met up near the entrance. You’re in for a good time,
he promised.
Who runs this place?
I had to know before I went inside.
He looked surprised. Why’s it so important to you?
I’m just curious. It’s gotta be a shifter, or a group of them, right?
He nodded. Nobody in our clan, though.
He nodded again. No way would Vincent allow something like this, and he always demanded to know everything about what went on in his clan. He had ways of finding out, too. No secrets.
It’s the Eastwing clan,
he finally admitted with a smirk.
My mouth fell open. Bradford Eastwing wasn’t exactly a friend to the Everglade Clan. He wasn’t a friend to anybody but himself. Eastwing? And you’re a member? How did that happen?
He chuckled and clapped me on the back again. That was his way, and it didn’t matter to him that I didn’t very much like being touched like that. We were cousins and friends, but we weren’t extremely close. Not the way I was with Jace and Cord. You gotta understand something. It doesn’t matter when it comes to money. I’m willing to pay, and I don’t cause trouble, so they don’t care very much which clan I belong to.
Even with all the shit between us?
Even with all the shit. It doesn’t matter.
If you say so.
I didn’t totally believe him, but he seemed pretty confident. I’ll give it a chance.
You won’t regret it.
He was grinning when he opened the carved wooden door. There wasn’t even a light hanging over it—the owners had gone to a lot of trouble to keep things quiet. Except for the cars out front, anybody would think the place was empty.
Things couldn’t have been more different