In order to get the attention off from her, I clear my throat. “I would like to share next.”
At her grateful look, I know I did good. “I was abused by my cousin. When I confronted him last year, he swore he was only thirteen when it happened. I was ten. He said he thought I was his girlfriend and apologized. He even agreed to visit our group next time he was in New York but I just found out he was here and didn’t call. Also, I’ve been asking around and everything he told me was a lie. He wasn’t thirteen, he was seventeen. I feel so stupid. I actually believed him.”
Mel’s mouth drops open. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Yeah. Don’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t want Grayson to go back to Minnesota and castrate my cousin. I was wondering, does anyone know if it’s too late to press charges?”
We talk about the law, statute of limitations, and what can and can’t be done after years go by. Too soon, it’s time to go. My eyes get teary as me and Mel wait outside for our limos.
Even though it’s close to midnight, the street is full of cars and plenty of people walk around, no doubt because it’s so warm. For the hundredth time tonight, I wish like before I was married, I could just walk home to my old apartment.
Mel reads my mind. “Just tell Grayson you want to move back.”
“It’s not that easy. Even though he says he’s not worried about Xavier, it’s safer in the burbs.”
She hugs me. “What are you not telling me, hun?”
“Am I an awful mother to say I wish it was like it was before? I don’t regret having Skye, not ever. I just wish me and Grayson could go back to what we were like when we first met.”
“Ah honey. All new moms feel that way. Believe me, soon Skye will sleep through the night, and you’ll forget you ever felt this way. Tell me, when was the last time you and Gray had a date?”
I laugh but it’s not funny. “Uh, never? We skipped that phase and went right to the bedroom.”
Another of the girls, Kelli, exits the bar, a drink in a plastic cup. “Why don’t you two go on vacation?”
Mel claps her hands. “That’s an awesome idea. When Chance and I had our first big fight, Kit lent me his cottage. Did you know he has his own private island in the Bahamas?”
“Seriously?” I smile and picture idyllic scenes of sandy beaches, palm trees, and a naked husband.
“Why don’t I call him and ask if it’s available. You and Grayson could take Skye and get away for a few days.”
“His job—”
“Is not as important as your relationship. You need to insist.”
“They should be here by now.” The words are barely out of my mouth when the limo pulls up.
Slate jumps out, opens the back door, and Grayson gives me a harried smile. “This kid does not sleep.”
“Not so easy, is it?” With a snicker, I jump into the limo next to his warm body and his arm comes up and over my shoulder.
“The funny thing is, she didn’t cry. She just wanted to be in the middle of everything. I’m exhausted.”
“You’re telling me?” I reach into my purse for a new toy, a plastic baby puzzle.
Skye’s delighted which gives her daddy and me time to share a few kisses.
“How did it go, tonight?” My husband’s steel eyes reflect the bright lights of the bridge that brings us out of Queens and back to the burbs.
“Good, good. Listen, I’m really sorry about earlier. It’s just, you know, hearing you say I’m crazy is hard. I swear I didn’t make any shit up. The last nanny really did accuse you of rape.”
He tucks a finger under my chin, eyes searching mine. “I never said you were crazy.”
“You implied it.” I need to be strong because he never said he was sorry.
He sighs and looks away. “There’s absolutely no evidence Xavier is back and the nannies all swear they didn’t quit, rather you fired them because you were jealous.”
“That’s just bull—”
“Don’t get mad. I hired a private investigator to check into the girls’ finances. I swear I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Really?” The fact he might believe me, even a little, gives me hope.
He pulls me across the seat and kisses me firmly on the lips. “Know this. Since the moment you walked into my office and threatened to take me to court, there’s been no one but you. Never will be. No matter what, I love you Isabella. Okay?”
I smile and remember the first day we met. I’d just had my performance review where I was told I was too assertive. Royally pissed off, I went to bitch to Jeannette in human resources. However, she’d quit and there was this hot new guy sitting at her desk. Later, when I brushed across his chest blocking the doorway, we both knew we’d never be the same.
“Hey, where’re we going?” We’ve veered off the highway and into Manhattan.
“To a hotel that rents rooms by the hour.” Grayson’s eyebrows lift and I have to snicker.
“You’re not serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
I wonder about all the germs and bedbugs in a place like he’s suggesting but he just laughs at the face I must be making.
“CJ said he and Mel are staying in Brooklyn.” He dangles a key in front of my face. “We’re spending the night at their place.”
“What about Skye?”
“Simple. You nurse her and give her to Slate.”
I don’t believe that the former marine has agreed to be our babysitter so I call out to the front seat. “You’re really okay to watch her?”
“Your husband is funding my new retirement account. No worries.” Merry eyes dance in the rearview mirror.
My kid is like that. Her unconditional love and happy nature makes people want to be with her. I just wish she needed the same amount of sleep I do.
It only takes about a half hour to feed her, change her, and hand her off to the waiting bodyguard. Then, for the first time I can remember since BC, before child, I’m alone with my husband.
“Are we really alone?” Despite the hour, I’m wide awake and surprised at the heat brewing in my husband’s eyes.
He pulls me into his chest, his hands lower to my butt, and he presses me tight to his hard want. “I fucking want you every minute of every fucking day, Izzy.”
All the hurt from earlier drops away as I taste brandy, the cigar he promised not to smoke, and a musk uniquely him. Turning his head for a better angle, our noses just miss. My arms wrap around him, my nails dig into his back, and I open my mouth wide.
His tongue mimics what he wants to do with his cock while my hands slip up to the pressure point behind his ears, knowing it drives him crazy. With a moan, he untangles my fingers, captures my wrists in one hand, and lifts my dress. It flies over my head, landing on the floor.
I struggle to break free of his grip so I can unbutton his shirt. Sleeves rolled to his elbows, there’s no expensive cuff links so I’m free to tug the white fabric off his shoulders. My reward is a warm chest and rapidly beating heart.
What more do I need to know? This man loves me.
Desire spikes and I grope for his belt buckle, his zipper, his cock. While I do that, he slips his hands to my back and unclasps my bra.
Like two teens in the backseat of a Chevy, we tear off each other’s clothes. Then, once naked, stop and stare. About to hide under the sheets, he pulls me to a full-length mirror, his erection pressing between my butt cheeks.
“Baby, when I look at you, I see pure fucking sexy. A few pounds can’t change how I feel. You are so damn fine, woman. Every time I see you, I want to fuck.”
My face heats to the tips of my ear but he’s not finished. “Touch yourself.”
Dark eyes find mine in the mirror, his hands cover my breasts and he squeezes. Oh my God. This is so hot that my clit throbs and liquid drips down my legs. With large hands over mine, breath heavy in my ear, he directs my index finger to swirl in my own juices while his hard cock swells behind me.
When I close my eyes
from the awesomeness of it all, he growls with this low, sexy voice that I hardly recognize. “Watch, dammit.”
I do and what I see is a big-breasted, blond woman spreading her legs wantonly while the most handsome man on earth sends her higher and higher.
“Ah, ah, ah…” My knees begin to shake and he squats a little to hold me up with his knees.
With a blow of warm air into my ear, he pinches a nipple and zings shoot to where I touch myself. When my whole body starts to quiver, he pulls over a chair, sits with me in his lap, and faces us toward the mirror. Then, he spreads my legs wide so I can see what’s going on down there.
Holy hell, this is way too hot for someone like me.
“Don’t stop.” At his command, my clit swells and more juices flow.
Stop? I couldn’t stop if I was on the tracks with the train in view. Hell, I can’t even breathe as I watch my wet, slick nub blossom by my own doing.
Suddenly, his hand covers mine, his finger presses in, and his other hand squeezes a breast. I scream as the biggest damn orgasm of my life erupts. Stars explode behind my eyelids, I’m higher than high, body and soul his.
“Fuck, yeah.” Hands on my waist, Grayson lifts me, turns me. and impales me to the bone.
My orgasm zooms past max. I shudder, shake, and my boobs bounce as I ride my stallion. He shouts and thrusts. My nub pulses and my heart drums out of control. My inner muscles suck at Gray’s cock, his head falls back, and his eyes roll. It’s sizzling hot to watch him lose it and I reach some plateau, one I never had before.
A shiver runs down my spine.
“Ah fuck, Isabella. Ah. Damn. Yeah.” He drives up hard, it hits my back and I push down to meet him.
With a primal yell, he cums too. Twice more, he groans, arches, and spurts into me.
Finally, I collapse onto his chest, totally spent.
Drenched in sweat, his hand slides up and down my back. “My God, Isabella, what the fuck?”
It takes me almost thirty seconds to respond. “Me? What was that mirror thing?”
He chuckles. “Playboy.”
“Seriously?”
“Guilty.”
“Keep reading. Damn. That was hot.”
His cock stirs within me and we’re at it again. When we’re finished, I check the time and moan. “Poor Slate. We need to call him to come back with the baby.”
My husband laughs. “He texted earlier. She’s asleep in Gabi’s bed. He’s in the other bedroom. Go to sleep, love. It’s all good.”
Chapter 5
Grayson
In my dream, it’s still last night and Isabella falls apart in my hands in front of the mirror. She’s so beautiful and smells so damn good, my hard need pushes between the globes of her sweet bottom cheeks and I wake.
We haven’t made love twice in twenty-four hours since before Skye was born. Do I dare try for the trifecta? I hold her hips, slide into her, and she gives me a sleepy grin over her shoulder.
“Well, good morning, Mr. Patten.”
Shit. Skye begins to fuss in the other room and we both moan.
Teasing myself in and out of my wife, perhaps I’m overly optimistic. “She’ll be fine for just a few minutes.”
My beautiful baby daughter, however, has other ideas and screams as if all hell has broken loose. Maybe her neck’s stuck between the rungs of the crib. She must be in mortal danger. While adrenaline pumps, I tuck a sheet around my waist and Izzy dons a blanket. Then, we run down the hall to the nursery, and pray not to find blood.
Giant crocodile tears immediately disappear when Skye sees us, stands, and holds her hands out with a big grin. “Da da da da da da.”
“You big faker.” I pick her up and toss her in the air until she giggles and my painful hardon subsides.
My wife just stands there and shakes her head. “We’ve birthed a criminal mastermind. I could feed her, put her in her playpen and we could try again?”
Her big blue eyes are laced with desire as she searches mine but I shake my head and moan when today’s schedule flashes in my mind’s eye.
“Sorry. Meetings, this morning, more this afternoon.”
She makes it hard to say no when she wraps her arms around my waist, tongue thrusting in and out of my ear. “Come home early?”
“Not sure, probably not.” I’ve bet a small fortune on my next deal and unfortunately, no one else can handle the negotiations.
I’d tell her but don’t want her to worry. She’s got enough on her plate.
“Okay…” The disappointment in her tone kills me.
Even so, she wraps me and Skye in a big hug. Fun time over, we dress and move to the kitchen where Slate waits, eggs and bacon on the stove.
The man deserves more than a raise. “You keep this up, I’ll buy you a ruffled pink apron with your name embroidered on it.”
“Do it and I’ll see to it your blue balls fall off.” My bodyguard turns to Isabella and winks.
“Morning Mrs. Boss, baby Boss.” He chucks Skye under the chin who gives him a one-tooth grin.
When Isabella puts her in Gabi’s highchair, he eyes the cereal Izzy mixes with brows creased. “What kind of goop is that?”
“Cream of rice.” She shovels a spoonful into Skye’s mouth but my little monkey spits it out, white, thick drool rolling down her chin.
Slate laughs and tousles her dark curls. “That’s my girl, don’t give in, no matter how much they torture you.”
Skye grabs the edge of the bowl and lets go.
Cereal flings everywhere but Slate jumps back. “Ha, missed me.”
Isabella, however, was not so fortunate. Her hair is matted with a glue-like substance that somehow managed to miss me.
Glad I don’t need a wardrobe change, I glance down at my watch, and motion to Slate. We need to get going.
“Love you.” I kiss my sticky wife on the top of her head with an ache in my gut. If I could stay, I would.
“Love you, too.”
She wipes herself with paper towels, I sneak up behind her, and whisper, “I’m saving up more ways to fuck you.”
Momentarily speechless, the girl I fell in love with blushes as I chuckle and head out the door. I’m pretty sure I’m still wearing a shit-eating grin when Slate brings the car around and I jump in.
With a glance at Google Maps, he heads crosstown while I get down to business. “It’s got to be Xavier.”
Slate nods. “I called the agency. They won’t send another nanny to the house. They say Isabella is abusive.”
My Izzy? From Minnesota? Other than Xavier, I don’t think I ever heard her bad mouth anyone. “Did you follow the money?”
“Nothing yet. The last three had no bank account. Cash is a harder trail to follow.”
I groan. “I need this settled. Izzy’s having nightmares again.”
“Did you tell her what you suspect?”
“No.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want her to worry.”
He mutters some shit about how I’m a fucking idiot while I text CJ Quinn. Maybe I could use a little advice.
Me: Hey
CJ: Wassup?
Me: Lunch today?
CJ: How about a run?
I check my calendar and free up an hour in the middle of the day.
Me: Outside my office?
CJ: West Side and Twenty-third. Fresh air.
Me: In NYC? Seriously?
CJ: LOL. C U Later.
I give him a thumbs-up while Slate maneuvers through traffic. When his attention is less diverted I ask, “Can you check in with Jack and find out where to drop me off later?”
“You sure you’re up to it?” My driver laughs and for that, I will force him to run with us, just to bust his ass. I’m no professional athlete, neither is Slate, but CJ is the best quarterback in the league. Hopefully, because it’s off season, he’ll show us some mercy.
Once at my office, I try to focus on the myriad
of details about my latest acquisitions but my mind wanders to Xavier. Is it possible he bribed our nannies to make me look bad? It hardly seems possible. Still, I believe Isabella wouldn’t make up such outlandish stories, especially after last night.
Suddenly, I remember what might’ve set her off. One morning last week, when I got out of the shower, nanny number three walked in on me. I was pretty sure I locked the door but thought nothing of it as I grabbed a towel. Shocked, the girl dropped her basket of toiletries and went to her knees to get them. When I looked up, she was inches away from my cock just as Izzy had come up the stairs.
I can only imagine what she thought…
Damn it.
I try to think back if there were other careless incidents and there may have been a couple. Fuck. I really have been an idiot. I bet those girls were paid to undermine my relationship with my wife and it almost worked.
I get through my morning meetings, change into running clothes, and ping Slate.
Me: Put your sneakers on.
Slate: ?
Me: You’re joining us.
Slate: Sweeeet.
The drivers find parking in a local lot then we all head to the river.
“Go easy on me.”
CJ laughs. “It’s off season. Otherwise you’d be fuck out of luck.”
We jog down the path along the Hudson while the sun beats down on us. A few recognize the famous quarterback but Manhattanites are pretty cool and don’t try to stop him. They do, however, stop and take pictures as we make our way south.
“You ever get used to that?”
“Used to what?”
“Never mind.” The path widens, I catch up and run beside him so we can talk. Slate takes the front and Jack takes the rear, their eyes darting for trouble.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” I try to hide the fact I’m somewhat out of breath as Quinn’s brows raise.
“Since when do you ask for permission?”
I deserve that. I constantly need advice and he’s the only person I know with a wife with issues similar to mine.
It’s a struggle to converse while I gasp for breath. “It’s Izzy. She’s having bad dreams. Almost every night.”
Busted Play: The Series (Players, Books 1-6) Page 39
