Hollywood Bad Boys Club: Book 2: Mason Read Online Free PDF Page A

doesn’t seem to faze him, and his gruff, muscular, tattooed persona is great fun to be around if you’re a guy. Women, though, seem to fear Link outwardly while secretly being drawn to him.
    “Sex life?” Links considers the question for a second, then says in his deep, gravel-tinged voice, “Can’t complain, man. Pussy grows like palms trees out here.”
    I laugh out loud. “That’s fucking poetic. We should adopt that as the official Hollywood Bad Boys Club motto.”
    It’s great to see Link more or less happy these days, because life was horrible for him early on. He had one broken home after another. His dad left and returned to Mexico when he was still a toddler, leaving him alone with his Canadian mom and her cocaine habit. She got into harder drugs, eventually taking in a junkie boyfriend who was abusive to Link, still in elementary school at that point. Besides the beatings and constant verbal abuse, the two of them were more interested in buying drugs than food, and Link often went hungry. He even told me his mother sometimes gave the boyfriend blowjobs on the couch while Link was watching TV in the same room. He remembered strange men would enter the apartment and he would be shooed off to the bedroom so his mom could trade oral sex for crack or meth.
    After his mom overdosed and died when Link was just nine years old, he bounced from one foster home to another, yet still managed to graduate from high school – practically a miracle, considering. With no college and bleak prospects, Link was able to find security work because of his tremendous size. Now the three of us are out here living the good life. No telling where Link would be if he hadn’t saved Drake and me from getting our drunk asses kicked that night.
    Still, I often wonder what’s going on in his shaved head. He’s not much of a talker and keeps everything bottled up. Hopefully, he’s found some true peace of mind out here in la-la land.
    We pull into the Staples Center valet parking area. I give the attendant a look when I turn over the keys to him and he knows exactly what I mean. One scratch is all it takes.
    Link and I are running a bit late, so we bypass our normal pre-funk at the Hyde Lounge and head right for our seats. I had Lakers season tickets years before Drake did, only six rows up behind the opponent’s bench. Not bad seats at all, but Drake used the money from his first starring role to get four courtside seats, so now I usually give my tickets away to clients and sit with him. There’s a years-long waiting list to get courtside seats, but Drake somehow managed (read: bribed his way) to jump the line and get his four baseline tickets, near the corner of the court.
    He and Allie are already waiting in their seats when Link and I show up few minutes before game time. The two of them have been together for seven or eight months now, and he’s the first member of the Hollywood Bad Boys to have that kind of extended relationship with a woman since we started our little club. We had pledged ourselves to remaining bachelors until we were at least forty years old, so it was disconcerting at first that one of us caved – and Drake Manning, no less, who can literally fuck any woman he wants.
    Link and I get bro-hugs from Drake and regular hugs from Allie. She’s in jeans and a tight Lakers jersey with the number thirty-two and “Johnson” on the back. I smirk in Drake’s direction and he just shrugs.
    “Nice jersey, Allie,” I say.
    “Thanks,” she replies before realizing that I’m actually referring to the manner in which she fills it out. She finally gets it when sees the smirk, punching me in the arm and calling me a dick. This why Allie is so great, it’s almost like she’s one of us.
    “Does ‘Johnson’ refer to Magic or to Drake’s penis?” I ask, meriting a harder bicep punch for my insolence.
    We all liked Allie from the moment we first met her, when she stepped out of Drake’s pool changing room wearing