Frisky Business (Kinky Chronicles, #5)

by Jodi Redford

  “I’ll give you the rest of the butterscotch bars if you do.”

  “You drive a hard bargain.”

  Grinning, he leaned forward and offered her a quick smooch. “Can I help it I know the way to your heart?”

  He did, all too well. Only it wasn’t cookies. It was one-hundred-percent him.

  And she didn’t have one damn clue what to do about it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  He was in some seriously deep shit. It’d been nearly two weeks since he and Jane embarked on their erotic journey...and he was more addicted than ever. Hardly a day passed without them seeing each other. Nine times out of ten, she either stayed the night or he crashed at her condo. The real kicker? He never looked for excuses to get out of it. He wanted to spend all the time he could with her, and not just in bed.

  If it was only sex, it’d be easier to blow off this constant need to be around her. Sex was safe, easy to move on from. This was starting to feel a lot more complicated than a lusty obsession. He’d damn well known he was stepping into a trap of his own design when he made the conscious choice to bring Master Kink out of retirement. Fucking Jane out of his system was a pipe dream. If he’d truly believed that was possible, he would have walked away from her the first night. But he hadn’t. No, he’d pressed for them to continue exploring the possibilities between them.

  Hell, he was still the one finagling for sleepovers and movie nights. For someone who didn’t do relationships, he sure as shit came across like it was his end game.

  Only it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Yeah, he was doing fine—mostly—right now. But eventually, his true nature would catch up with him. The cold sweats and avoidance tactics would kick in. Somewhere around that point, he’d start looking for excuses to be anywhere but with Jane. Slowly but surely, he’d distance himself from her.

  He was damn good at pushing people away. He wished he could blame that entirely on Ava, but the ugly truth was he’d had exactly two long-lasting relationships in his life—his mom and Sunny. Didn’t take years of therapy to determine where his aversion to relationships started.

  He hadn’t been completely honest with Jane the time she asked him about his dad. Although he’d worked hard to bury his hurt and anger at the man, the residual emotions still slipped through the cracks now and then. The biggest certainty that had never abandoned him? Always better to be the one leaving rather than the one left behind.

  Totally fucked up line of thinking, but one he couldn’t shake.

  And therein lay his dilemma. The massive pile of shit stinking up his conscience. He was being a greedy prick for stealing this time with Jane, knowing it wouldn’t last forever. What favor was he doing her, dragging it on? None, that’s fucking what.

  Then again, she certainly seemed to be approaching all of this way more casually than he was. After the initial screw up with calling her his friend that day in Sunny’s room, he’d walked on constant eggshells, alert for the inevitable crack when he blew it and hurt Jane’s feelings again. Strangely enough, she’d never once hinted at them being more than that these last few weeks. Well, not beyond her tiny slip up at the supermarket a while back. Considering she hadn’t used either soul or mate in any context whatsoever since then, he was beginning to wonder if that whole incident was merely a figment of his paranoid imagination.

  “Daddy!”

  He snapped out of his black cloud of unproductive thoughts and glanced toward Sunny as she rushed through the day care center’s front doors. Just like that, his heavy, troubled soul lightened. She hurtled toward him and he caught her in mid-leap. She immediately snuggled into his arms and planted a dainty butterfly kiss on his nose. He dreaded the day she’d deem it uncool to give her old man hugs and sweet PDAs. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen for at least another fifty years, give or take.

  “Guess what? Ms. Felicity says I get to bring Herman home next week!”

  Herman was the resident hamster the day care had adopted three years ago. As far as he knew, Herman was the longest living hamster on the face of the planet. He had no damn idea what experimental drugs they were feeding the creature to give it such longevity, but regardless, part of Herman’s reward for outliving his other hamster comrades was he got a mini vacation at a different kid’s house once a month. Not a bad gig if you could get it. Assuming Herman kept to the plan of not croaking while he was at Jack’s house, because who the fuck wanted to be labeled The Hamster Murderer? Not him, for goddamn sure.

  Felicity ducked outside and he shot her a grin. “So...Herman’s been cutting back on the ice cream sundaes and cheeseburgers?”

  The younger woman gave him an odd look. Imagine that. “Uh...”

  “I’ll take that as a clean bill of health.” He tweaked the end of his daughter’s braid, earning her bubbly giggle. “Tell Ms. Felicity goodbye, Sun Bun.”

  Felicity cleared her throat. “I was hoping I could speak to you for a second.”

  He paused, concern washing over him as Felicity chaffed her wrist.

  “It’s nothing to do with Sunny,” she assured, apparently intuiting where his thoughts were leading him. “More like a personal issue.”

  Her nervousness stirring his curiosity, he nodded. “Of course.”

  “Would you mind terribly if we have this conversation inside my office?”

  Now he was officially intrigued. “Not at all.”

  Her features a study in undiluted relief, she swiveled on her heels and led the way inside the vacant building to a small room tucked on the other side of the small kitchenette. She glanced at Sunny as he set his daughter back on her feet. “Can you do me a huge favor and make sure Herman has plenty of fresh water in his dispenser?”

  “Can I pet him too?”

  “Yes, but don’t let him out of his cage.”

  “I won’t.” Sunny dashed from the office, leaving Jack and Felicity to exchange an awkward stare down.

  Felicity broke their eye contact first, her cheeks twin circles of Pepto Bismol pink. “I don’t really know how to go about this.”

  “Go about what?”

  She returned her gaze to him. “Mrs. Brewster—”

  “Could we dispense with that name once and for all and just call her Ava? Or my ex? Lucifer, perhaps?”

  Felicity’s mouth twitched. “Ava.”

  He’d hoped she’d go with Beelzebub, but good enough. He inclined his head. “Continue.”

  Rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, she leaned her hip against the front of her impeccably organized desk. Seriously, looking at it left him with a major complex over his considerably messier approach to paper filing.

  “She mentioned a while back what you do for a living...”

  Her hesitant announcement immediately swung his attention back to her. And for good reason. He’d fielded enough conversations that started off this way to know that wherever it was headed wouldn’t be good. Knowing his ex was the cause behind it only clinched that outcome. “Whatever Ava said—”

  “No, no, nothing to worry about there.” Felicity’s beet-red face contradicted the desperate reassurance in her tone, leaving him with little doubt that whatever Ava confided sure as hell hadn’t been complimentary to him.

  He was going to fucking wring Ava’s neck for this obvious attempt at making him look bad to their daughter’s caregiver. Ten to one, his ex conveniently left out how the two of them initially met and the events leading up to Sunny’s conception. He honestly didn’t give two fucks what anyone thought of him. But he sure as shit wouldn’t abide Sunny being hurt as a result.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he eyed Felicity coolly. “If my livelihood is a problem for you, I’ll enroll my daughter elsewhere.” It wasn’t something he wanted to do. Sunny adored Felicity and her daycare playmates. Most of them, anyway. That Barbie-hater punk was on his daughter’s shit list, most likely for life. Regardless, it wouldn’t be easy plucking Sunny out of an environment that was like a third home to her. His chest tightened at the mere idea. Bu
t the alternative also churned his stomach. He’d sooner chop off his own arm than leave Sunny open to possible teasing and derision because of how he made his money.

  Felicity’s eyes widened an instant before she groaned. “Oh dear. This is what happens when I don’t get straight to the point. So I, uh, should probably do that.” She sucked in a deep breath and expelled it in a rush of words. “I need to rent a fake fiancé for a weekend.”

  It took far too many seconds for her statement to register. He blinked. “Sorry, could you repeat that?”

  “Do I have to? It was tough enough getting it out the first time.” Her complexion took on the over-boiled lobster effect again. “This is unbelievably embarrassing, and probably the weirdest request ever tossed at you.”

  His thoughts immediately dosi-doed to Jane and her porn star boyfriend scam. “Oh, you’d be surprised.” He backfilled his assurance with an extra layer of drollness.

  “Really?” Felicity straightened, the tenseness of her frame easing. “I was convinced you’d think I was some kind of freak.”

  Oh, you innocent child. He made a mental note to abstain from introducing her to ninety-nine percent of his clients or his staff. Wouldn’t want to scar her for life. “Absolutely not. I’ll admit I’m curious why you need a fake fiancé though.”

  There was a good chance her swallow could be heard the next county over. “I’d rather not get into the details of that story. I already feel weird about this whole conversation.”

  “There’s no reason to feel that way. Trust me, I’m the last person to judge anyone if that’s what you’re concerned about.” He crossed to Felicity’s side and offered her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll at least need some input as to what you’re looking for so I can set you up with someone compatible.”

  “That isn’t really necessary.” She rubbed her arms briskly again, obviously flustered. “As long as he’s nice, and not a closet serial killer, it’s all good.”

  “I canned the last employee who had an unhealthy fixation with Dexter. We should be in the clear.” He chuckled at her uncertain stare. “That was a joke. Apparently, I shouldn’t quit my day job and fulfill my lifelong dream of being a standup comic.”

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” she agreed in a perfect deadpan.

  Well, damn. She did have some spunk in her. Grinning, he dropped his hand. “In all seriousness, finding the ideal candidate for you won’t be a problem. All of my guys are top notch.” He’d scratch Sawyer and Knox off the list. No brainer there. He wasn’t about to subject Felicity to that kink-a-dink show.

  She hugged her chest. “I also need the utmost discretion. If anyone from the daycare found out I’m hiring a male escort...” She whispered the last part like it was the most scandalous word to ever sneak past her lips. He didn’t doubt it for a second.

  “Felicity, discretion is my middle name. It has to be in this business.”

  Her relief could have occupied its own zip code. It was completely bizarre that she was willing to risk her job and do something so clearly out of her comfort zone. He’d made her a promise though. He wouldn’t nose around where she didn’t want him to. “Call my cell whenever you’re ready to get the ball rolling and we’ll get everything lined up.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you for this.” Instead of bursting into tears—like she appeared to be on the verge of doing—she banded him in a hug tight enough to cut off his air supply.

  Suddenly at a loss of what to do with his arms, he patted her awkwardly on the head. “You don’t have to do a thing. Just keep taking excellent care of Sunny and consider us square.”

  She pulled away from him, her smile a fireworks display on steroids. “Mrs.—” She stopped herself short, her expression rueful. “Ava—is completely off the mark about you, you know. You’re not a self-absorbed, selfish jerk. I’ve always known you’re not, but I thought you should know it too.”

  “Jerk?” He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised her insults for me weren’t more colorful.”

  “I might have tamed it down a bit.”

  Understatement of the year. Ava never referred to him with any word that wasn’t best prefixed with motherfucker. He followed Felicity into the other room and spied Sunny crouched in front of the hamster cage, chatting away like Herman understood a single word she was saying.

  Shit, maybe he did. Being around little kids all day, Herman was probably hip to their lingo by now and a sparkling conversationalist.

  A thought occurring to him, he shifted his focus to Felicity. “I’ve gotta ask, is Herman’s visit your way of buttering me up for the fake fiancé?” He chuckled at her telltale blush. “You might not be a freak but you’re crafty as hell. There might be hope for you yet.”

  ~*~

  “Daddy, I want Herman to sleep in my room when he stays with us.”

  He pulled an exaggerated pouty face in the Maserati’s rearview mirror. “What if I wanted him to stay in my room?”

  “But you has Jane to keep you company and read you bedtime stories.”

  Okay, he couldn’t argue with his daughter’s damn fine logic. He only prayed that’s all Sunny thought he and Jane were doing in his room on the nights Jane slept over. Granted, his daughter was several years away from the birds ‘n bees chat, and he and Jane were extra careful and quiet with their friskiness, but Sunny’s nookie radar was borderline supernatural. It hadn’t been much of an issue when he and Ava were still together and sexual. Sunny had been too young to comprehend what was going on back then, and eventually he’d turned into a monk where his ex was concerned, so there’d been no sex to hide.

  It was a different story now that Jane was in the picture. In the past few weeks, Sunny had learned the time-honored tradition of parental cock-blocking like a true pro. No getting anything past the kid. Hence the need for locked doors and late night booty calls. Even in that regard, he’d had to concoct a story for why daddy busted out his hyena impression for Jane the other night. It pretty much went downhill from there once Jane piped in with a side antidote involving her getting eaten by a dingo. By the end of their creative improv, he and Jane could barely keep their shit together, and poor Sunny was left more mystified than ever.

  He was going to the special hell reserved for terrible fathers.

  Smothering his laugh before it ratted him out, he returned his focus to the road.

  Sunny heaved an Oscar-worthy sigh. “Herman won’t like my room.”

  “Too many Barbie’s? We could always send some of them to a doll retirement home.”

  “Daddy.” She uttered the word with such stern scorn, it was a damn miracle she didn’t fry his face clean off with the sheer magnitude of its power.

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Herman’s favorite color is purple.”

  He angled his head to the side, considering her firmly confident pronouncement. “Huh. I woulda said red.” He caught her eye roll in the mirror. “You’ve lost all respect for me now, haven’t you?”

  Her tiny shoulders shot up nearly to her ears. She’d discovered the dazzling wonderment of shrugs several days ago and appeared to be thoroughly addicted to using them. It was adorable and confusing as hell at times seeing how she didn’t quite grasp their appropriate usage and tended to treat them as an all-purpose gesture for any and everything. “I don’t know. What is respect?”

  Okay, she’d nailed the shrug timing this go around. He gave her a Thumb’s Up. “Respect is a song by Aretha Franklin.”

  Her forehead scrunched. “Who’s Ritha Frankin?”

  “Stop making me feel old.”

  “But you are, daddy.” She burst into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by herself, the little pipsqueak.

  He mock sniffed. “Yep, I get noooooooo respect around here.”

  “I love you, daddy. Even though you’re silly and sometimes burp and fart.”

  “I’m grateful you’re willing to overlook my shortcomings,” he pointed out dryly. “And I love you too, Su
n Bun.”

  “Can I get a purple room then?”

  He took in her over-the-top excitement and grunted. “Why do I have the feeling I was played?”

  She tucked her hands into a tiny steeple in front of her face. “Pleeeeease.”

  He had no damn willpower. Might as well slap a sticker that says sucker on his forehead and be done with it. “We’ll repaint your walls and get a new bedspread and pillows. Maybe a few blingy-ma-bobs. That’s it. Herman will have to lower his standards.”

  Squeeing, she bounced in her car seat. “Can Jane come shopping with us?”

  The crazy thing? He’d had the same thought almost the exact moment Sunny did. They were obviously on the same scary wavelength when it came to a certain blonde.

  On the one hand, it disturbed him to a certain degree that they’d both developed this attachment to Jane that made it natural for them to automatically include her in such important activities as bedroom remodels. Hell, he couldn’t remember Sunny tossing out suggestions about Ava tagging along in the past. Then again, his daughter was one smart cookie. She’d undoubtedly figured out that if he’d spent more than a few minutes in her mother’s presence he’d eventually be up for murder charges and she’d be left an orphan.

  “Daddy, you didn’t say if Jane can come!”

  If he was smart, he’d start putting the brakes on his addiction to Jane. Now. Before he breezed past no return. Going cold turkey was out of the question. A slow, steady easing off was the only alternative.

  Or he could say fuck it and see if she was free tonight. He liked that option. A lot. Utilizing his Bluetooth, he accessed Jane’s number. As soon as she picked up, he and Sunny blasted her with an off-key rendition of Adele’s Hello.

  Jane’s snort drifted through the speaker. “Bravo! Remind me to never take you two to karaoke.”

  “Says the woman who duets with Herb Albert and the Tijuana Brass,” he countered.

  She chuckled. “Touché. So to what do I owe the honor of being serenaded by a world famous pop duo?”