Ego Maniac

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Ego Maniac Page 21

by Vi Keeland


  “Did he tell you where Alexa was?”

  “He didn’t know.”

  “He’s lying for his sister?”

  “Don’t think so. He would have given her up. His skinny little junky ass was so afraid of Roman, he pissed himself. Plus, I know the guy. He would have tried to sell me where she was for enough to buy his next fix if he’d had any clue. Guy would sell his mother for twenty bucks.”

  “So what do you do now?”

  “I got to the courthouse before they closed and filed an emergency restraining order asking the judge to force her to go back to New York. Our custody agreement doesn’t allow either one of us to take Beck out of state without permission from the other. They’ll add the motion to the calendar with her change of custody demand for the day after tomorrow. If we can’t find her by Thursday, she’ll have to at least show up for court then.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Nah. Thanks, babe. Just hearing your voice is good for me.”

  I smiled. “Maybe later tonight I’ll call you and this voice will have some dirty things to say.”

  “Yeah?”

  I bit my lip. “I’m a team player. I want to help any way I can.”

  “I’ll get rid of Roman for a while later. He likes to sit at the bar and nurse a few whiskies at the end of the day. Don’t think I’ll be doing that for a long time after last night. Much rather hear you come while you tell me how much you miss my cock.”

  “You got it. I’m going home soon.”

  “Okay, babe. Call me later when you’re settled in.”

  “Drew?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Just so you know, I miss you and your cock.”

  He groaned my name. “Hurry up home.”

  I’d never had phone sex, and I was really looking forward to calling Drew. So much so that I’d put on a cute little silky shorts-and-camisole set and some perfume for the occasion. It was a little after ten, so I figured he’d probably be settling in for the night, too. Picking up my cell, I dialed his number and smiled when he answered with a gruff voice.

  “You naked?”

  “No, but I can be.”

  My hand was on the kitchen light switch, ready to turn it off and take my cell phone to bed with me, when there was a knock at my door. Drew heard it, too.

  “Someone there?”

  “I think so. Hang on a second.” I walked to the door and peeked through the peephole even though I knew who it was without looking. It wasn’t like I had many friends in the city, much less ones who would just drop by.

  “Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

  “Do I want to know who it is?”

  “Probably not. Give me a few minutes to get rid of him.”

  After I ended the call, I grabbed a sweater from the closet and pulled it on before opening the door.

  “Baldwin? Is everything alright?”

  “Yes, fine. I just wanted to check on you. I knocked last night, but you weren’t home. So I tried this morning, and you still weren’t here, and then you didn’t answer my texts today. I was beginning to get worried.”

  My feelings for Baldwin had been so jumbled, I’d forgotten he was a good friend to me for a few years.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Just a crazy day yesterday, followed by a hectic one today.”

  He didn’t seem convinced, so I decided to be honest.

  “I’ve started seeing someone; I stayed over at his place last night.”

  “Oh.” He gave me a sad smile that seemed forced. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

  When I didn’t offer to have him come in, his eyes roamed over my face like he was looking for something. I waited in awkward silence, clutching my sweater shut as I stood there.

  Eventually, Baldwin gave me a curt nod, and his eyes dropped to my bare legs. “Is it the lawyer?”

  For some reason, it rubbed me wrong that he called him the lawyer and not by his name. “Drew. Yes.”

  He looked into my eyes. “Are you happy?”

  I didn’t even have to think about the answer. “I am.”

  Baldwin’s eyes closed briefly, and he gave me another silent nod. “Maybe we can get coffee this weekend and catch up?”

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  Coffee at Starbucks was probably the best way to reset our friendship. The reset was entirely on my end, because Baldwin had never really been interested in me the way I’d been in him. But now that I was seeing someone, it wouldn’t feel right to go out with him for dinner. Maybe someday in the future, when more time had passed between the feelings I had for Baldwin and the start of a new relationship, but right now it would just feel wrong.

  After we said goodnight, I took a minute to regroup my thoughts before going to the bedroom to call Drew back. It had been a long time since my feelings for Baldwin had grown. I couldn’t turn them off completely, but something had definitely changed. Even though I knew part of me would miss the unrestrained comfortableness I’d enjoyed with Baldwin when there was nothing holding me back, I realized it was more important for me to respect the boundaries I knew Drew would want me to have—like not inviting a man into my apartment this late while I was in my cute little pajamas.

  Feeling content, I turned off all the lights and slipped into bed as I dialed Drew’s number on my cell.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Visitor gone?” Wariness had crept into Drew’s confident voice.

  “It was Baldwin. He wanted to check on me. Apparently he knocked last night and this morning and was worried because I didn’t answer his texts today either.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “I told him I’d slept at my boyfriend’s and had been busy, but everything was fine.”

  “Your boyfriend, huh? Is that what I am?” There was relief in his voice.

  “Do you prefer to be called something else?”

  “I don’t know. What else you got?”

  “Hmm…let’s see…how about man who gives me many orgasms?”

  “That sounds like my Indian name.”

  I laughed. “How about landlord with benefits or Captain Prolactinator?”

  “Call me whatever you want to Professor Putz, as long as he knows you’re mine.”

  Mine. I liked the sound of that. I wasn’t sure how it had happened. Knowing us, it had started to blossom in the middle of a fight and flowered while I was bent over his desk, but regardless of how we got here, somehow we had. And I realized there was nowhere else I’d rather be.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Roman’s down at the bar. Bartender is a woman. Don’t think he’ll miss my company.”

  “Okay, good.” I reached over to my end table and opened the drawer. “Did you hear that?”

  “Don’t tell me he’s knocking again.”

  Slipping my vibrator out of the drawer, I decided Drew needed a little distraction from the last two horrible days. I switched it on and held it close to my cell for a few seconds before lowering it down my body.

  “Is that—”

  “My vibrator. It’s been lonely the last few weeks.”

  Drew growled. “Fuck. I wish I was there to watch you.”

  “I think I’d like that. Maybe when you get back.”

  “Not maybe. I’m coming straight to your place from the plane.”

  His reaction fueled me. I rubbed the vibrator on my clit and spoke as my voice strained.

  “How about you come a different way first?”

  Drew

  “She’s got balls,” Roman not so quietly whispered to me as Alexa smiled our way while strolling into court with her lawyer, Atticus Carlyle.

  My hands clenched into tight fists. After coming up empty for a day and a half looking for her, I don’t know why I was surprised she’d picked that asshole. I hated that fucking guy almost as much as he hated me. He was the quintessential good ol’ southern boy—thick drawl, bow tie, and worked God in
to his opening and closing arguments. He was also the one attorney who’d ever made me lose it in the courtroom. And we happened to be assigned the judge who’d hit me with sanctions as a result of that unraveling. It was starting to feel like nothing was a coincidence.

  Needing to keep whatever semblance of calm I had left, I couldn’t even look at the other side of the court. Judge Walliford took the bench, and the uniformed clerk called our docket number. He spent a few minutes reading with his glasses at the tip of his nose and then looked up.

  “Well, well, well, lookie what we have here. Seems the three of us have done this little dance before (be-fo-wah), haven’t we?

  “Yes, your honor,” I said.

  “Sure have, your ahn-na. Good to see you again,” opposing counsel drawled.

  Walliford shuffled some papers and removed his glasses, then leaned back in his chair.

  “Mr. Jagger, why do you think this case should be heard in a New York City courtroom instead of here in Atlanta? Do you not trust the wheels of justice to turn at the same speed as you northerners like things done?”

  How the hell was I supposed to answer that? I’d filed a motion for a change in venue based on residency. I cleared my throat. “No, your honor. I’m sure this court would do a fine job in any case presented before it, but since the plaintiff and I are both residents of New York, I believe the proper jurisdiction would be New York County. According to our agreement—”

  Carlyle butted in. “Your ahn-na, my client is a resident of the good state of Georgia. She was born and raised here. During her short-lived marriage to Mr. Jagger, she was a temporary resident of New York for a period of time, but she’s recently bought a house in Fulton County, and this is the state of her residence.” He held up some papers and continued. “I have here a copy of the deed to her new home, her Atlanta driver’s license, and a copy of the lease where she was temporarily staying in New York. You’ll see the lease was not even in Ms. Jagger’s name.”

  “That’s crap. The lease was in my name because I was paying for it. She’s lived there for two years.” I knew before I finished that I’d made a huge mistake with my outburst.

  Judge Walliford wagged his finger. “I will not tolerate that language in my courtroom. You northerners might find it acceptable to communicate that way, but this is not a smoky bar or some slick city street. You will respect this bench. I’m warning you, Mr. Jagger. After your behavior last time you were in this room, you’re on a very short leash.”

  And that was the best part of my day. Judge Walliford denied my motion to change venues to New York and ordered a full trial on the change in custody petition Alexa had filed—to begin two weeks from Monday. The only thing he did in my favor was enforce our current custody schedule, where I had Beck Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, as well as Wednesday for dinner. Although he ordered my visitation to take place in, you guessed it, the great state of Georgia.

  I waited until we were outside of the building before even attempting to approach Alexa. The last thing I needed was for her to scream that I was harassing her and have Walliford lock me up.

  I gritted my teeth. “Alexa, can I speak to you, please?”

  Carlyle took her elbow. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alexa.”

  I ignored him, looking my ex-wife in the eye. “You owe me at least this much. It’s been more than two years since I found out, and it still goddamn hurts. But I’ve never let Beck see or feel anything different than what he is to me. No matter what some fucking blood test says, he’s my son.” She looked away. “Look at me, Alexa. Look at me.” When she finally met my eyes, I continued. “You know me. Will I give up even if I lose in two weeks?”

  Her lawyer stepped in. “Are you threatening my client?”

  I continued to hold Alexa’s eyes. “No. I’m asking her to put our son first and not drag this out.”

  She took a deep breath. “He’s not your son. Let’s go, Mr. Carlyle.”

  Thank God Roman was standing next to me. He wrapped his arms around my chest so I couldn’t go after her, even as she walked away.

  Before the flight home, I attempted unsuccessfully to sync my calendar so I could spend a few hours shuffling my schedule in order to spend Monday, Tuesday, and half the day Wednesday in New York, then be back in Atlanta for dinner with Beck on Wednesday night. I’d then stay in Atlanta and work remotely Thursday through Friday before I picked up Beck again for the weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy to cram an entire week’s worth of client appointments, depositions, and court appearances into two and a half days, but what choice did I have? My son needed to come first. He was already confused by the sudden move and not being able to spend his weekends at Daddy’s place. I also had little doubt that if I missed a single visitation, Judge Walliford would hear about it. I didn’t need to give him any more ammunition to use against me.

  Even though my son was my priority, I had another focus now that I was back on New York soil. I hadn’t been sure I’d be able to catch the last flight home from Atlanta, so I didn’t mention to Emerie that there was a chance I’d be back tonight. It was late, almost midnight, but I gave the cabbie her address instead of mine anyway.

  For the six days I’d been gone, we’d talked every night—and most nights ended with my jerking off to the hum of her vibrator. It had helped take the edge off, but at the same time also made me hungry for the real thing.

  The inside of her apartment building was quiet. I made my way up in the elevator without anyone questioning me, since her building had no doorman. I hated that, though. She needed a safer place to live—any asshole could be knocking on her door. Come to think of it, one was about to. Setting my bags down to knock, I glanced over at the apartment next door.

  Yeah. She definitely needs a safer place to live.

  After two rounds of knocking—the second one so loud I thought I might wake a neighbor or two—a sleepy-looking Emerie came to the door.

  Since she’d been asleep, her contacts were out, and she had her glasses on. God, I love her in those things.

  “Hey. What are you—”

  I didn’t give her a chance to finish, didn’t even say hello. At least not in so many words anyway. Instead, I helped myself inside, walking her backward as I not-so-gently took her face in my hands and kissed her. I kissed her hard and long, kicking the door closed behind me before lifting her so her legs could wrap around my waist. It felt incredible—like the cure for the perpetual suck-ass feeling I’d had for the last week.

  When I slipped my hand under her sexy little sleep shorts and grabbed a handful of her backside, she moaned into my mouth, and I had the urge to put her down so I could fist pump. But that would have meant moving my already fully erect cock away from the warmth between her spread legs, and there was no damn way that was happening. So instead, I somehow made my way to the couch without tripping and unceremoniously dropped her on it before covering her with my body.

  “I’ve fucking missed you.” My voice was raw.

  Emerie’s eyes were hooded and happy. “I guessed that much from your hello.”

  I started to suck on her neck as my hands moved to take down her shorts and underwear at the same time. “Did you miss me?”

  Her fingernails dug into my back as I nipped my way from her neck to her ear. “Yes,” she breathed. “I did. A lot.”

  I bit down on her earlobe as I stroked two fingers up and down her pussy. “How much. Are you wet for me?” I already knew the answer, of course, but I waited for her to tell me.

  “Yes.”

  I rubbed her clit with my thumb. “Yes what?”

  “Yes, I’m wet for you.”

  “Tell me your pussy is wet for me. I want to hear you say it.” I was already unbuckling my pants. Who knew how dexterous I was—somehow managing to undress both of us with one hand while sucking on her neck, her ear, her lips, and the other hand rubbing her wet pussy.

  “My…pussy is wet for you.”

  God, there was nothing sexier t
han hearing Emerie say she was hot for me. The last week of hell was a distant memory, and all I could think about was being inside of her.

  “I missed you so much,” I told her again, because even though I’d already said it, it was just so goddamn true.

  And I needed to be inside of her. She was going to have to take a big, fat IOU on the foreplay this time—although from the sound of her panting, the feel of her wet heat, she didn’t seem to mind. I pushed in slowly, my body shaking to keep under control. When I was fully seated, I would have sworn that frayed nerve endings had come alive for the first time in years. Her tight pussy enveloped my cock, and her legs wrapped around my waist, clenching me even tighter.

  Jesus, I don’t remember the last time it felt this good.

  I started to move, mostly because I needed to feel that tight vise milking me as I slid in and out, and I realized I wasn’t going to last very long. It was just too incredible. Emerie opened her eyes as I pulled out, and our gazes locked. Taking both her hands, I twined our fingers together and lifted them over her head. I wanted to kiss her, but I couldn’t stop looking at her long enough. The way she panted with every thrust down and made a little moaning sound with every stroke back was mesmerizing to watch.

  Her hips joined in, rocking in unison with mine. Up and down, in and out.

  “Oh, God, Drew. Right there. Don’t stop.”

  Miraculously, I managed to hold back long enough for her to come. I watched it transform her face—her head tilted to the side, her eyes rolled closed, her full lips parted, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

  When she’d started to come down, I picked up my speed, thrusts coming harder and faster, chasing her orgasm as my own pushed to the brink. Just as I was about to explode, I realized why it had felt so different, why every nerve was suddenly awakened for the first time.

  I hadn’t put on a condom. Shit. I was going to have to pull…

  “Em, I didn’t—” I attempted to explain why I was about to ruin her ending, but I was running out of words as fast as I was endurance. “No condom.”

 

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