Dick (Bad Boys #1)

by R. C. Stephens

  “Dick, please, this is very kind of you to offer. Grant and I both appreciate it, but you are a single guy with a life to live. We don’t need to be in your way,” I reply. I hate that I’m referring to his vibrant sex life, but how can I not when I saw him take off with that woman? I also can’t leave out his conquests at school.

  “Eden,” he begins to say. “One minute.” With Grant in his arms he walks back into the hotel, headed for the concierge. A moment later a man is passing him my luggage. He comes back out, rolling the luggage with one arm while Grant is still in his other arm, holding him tight. A black Audi pulls up. “This is us,” he says. “I have a car seat for Grant.” He opens the back door and puts him inside and buckles him in.

  “Dick, please, I have my car here. I can’t possibly stay with you,” I plead.

  He closes the back door to the car and stands in my face, invading my personal space. “Why not?”

  With him standing so close to me, I take in his scent of cologne. My insides turn weak, and I know this is an awful idea. I can’t imagine living with him. When I don’t respond, he answers.

  “We’re friends, right? We know each other from way back, so what’s the big deal? This is me helping out an old friend.”

  Ugh!!! I want to scream. Why does he have to be so nice? I thought he was an asshole. He places his palms on my shoulders and guides me to the passenger seat. He opens the door for me to get in.

  “Ma’am …” He chuckles and motions with his hand playfully. Playful and flirty Dixon Crawford. Not much has changed.

  “Thank you,” I answer solemnly. This day has put me in a state of shock. This week has worn me out. Most of all, I’m scared of what comes next.

  About ten minutes later, we pull up to Dixon’s building. I turn around to see that Grant has fallen asleep. Poor guy. Too much bad drama today. I get out of the car and walk around to get Grant, but Dick opens the door and carefully props him up on his shoulder so he is resting comfortably. He clearly has experience moving sleeping kids out of a car. A man working in the building comes out, and Dick asks him to bring up the suitcase from the trunk. I follow Dick inside the lobby and toward the elevator. We enter the elevator when he suddenly realizes something.

  “Shoot!” he calls out.

  “What is it?” I ask, feeling a little perplexed. It’s looks as if something major has just dawned on him.

  “I don’t know how to say this …” he begins to mumble.

  “Well, just say it!” I urge him. For goodness sake, he has brought us home with him and there seems to be a problem.

  “I have a house guest,” he begins and my stomach drops out from under me.

  “Oh, no. Oh, NO!” I begin to pace the small, enclosed space. “How do I get myself into these messes?” I say out loud, holding on to my hair, wondering what the hell I was thinking coming home with a father of one of my students. A man that is known to be a player. A man that screws every hot woman in and out of our school. A man that I had hot, unbridled sex with only two nights ago. A man that does not respect the sanctity of marriage … The list in my head continues to roll.

  “Eden, would you stop the pacing and muttering. It’s not what you think.” He looks up to the ceiling and takes a deep breath.

  “Say it, Dick. Whatever it is, just say it,” I beg, feeling as if my nerves will explode. This day keeps getting worse and worse. Why didn’t I stay at the hotel?

  “Okay!” he begins slowly. “The woman staying with me.” He pauses again.

  Sweet Jesus! I feel like the air has been sucked out of the elevator.

  “Dick, I should go back to the hotel. I appreciate the offer to stay. You clearly have your hands, uh … full. You don’t need a woman and kid on your mind,” I mutter nervously.

  “Eden, can you stop talking for a moment?” he snaps at me. It isn’t harsh. He’s just frustrated about something.

  “O—K—A—Y.” I accentuate each syllable while forcing myself to breathe.

  “I’m am not in a relationship with the woman upstairs.”

  I roll my eyes. Oh dear! Of course he isn’t in a relationship. He doesn’t do relationships. He fucks and moves on. I shiver as I place my palm on my forehead.

  “EDEN,” he snaps again. Only this time he’s clearly trying to pull me out of my panic. I try to focus on him and realize he seems nervous about something. “The woman in my apartment … shit … this is hard for me to say…” He pauses again and almost seems sad. I’m completely confused now.

  “Just say it, DICK!” I snap at him and he flinches. I am at my wits’ end.

  “Okay, when I went to Washington last week, I met a woman there,” he begins, and I cringe.

  “Oh no,” I say, slapping my hand up to my mouth. That doesn’t sound good.

  “She introduced herself as Ella Crawford. She found it interesting we had the same last name. She works for the press secretary at the White House. After the first day of meetings, I realized that there was something about the way she looked and I searched her online.” He pauses and looks up to the ceiling just as the elevator lands on his floor. I feel like this was the world’s longest elevator ride. “We share a father. She’s my half-sister. I went back to the White House the next day, and we spoke and she knew about me. When Socialite was bought out, my father saw me on the news and told her I was his son. She said he seemed proud of me. She was shocked. She asked him if he would contact me, and his answer was “nah” and that was it.

  “Her mother was my housekeeper before we got Ma … when my father was doing well. Her name was Annabelle. He had an affair with her and she got pregnant and left. We got Ma, and when his business went under, he left me behind and went to go live with Annabelle and Ella out in Washington. It was cheaper to live there and uh … Annabelle cleaned houses and basically supported all of them,” he explains and he sounds completely broken.

  “Dixon, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you must have felt.” Without thinking, I wrap my arms around his neck. He’s been holding Grant for a while now. He must be getting heavy.

  “Intense hall talk,” he says, tugging his lip up at the corner. “I didn’t want you walking in there and thinking something else. I just … well … it’s hard to talk about,” he mutters, and I remember the day he admitted that his mother had left. It was so hard for him to admit that she left and wasn’t coming back. Then my mother left, and we shared that bond of abandonment. “Can you reach in my pocket and get my keys?” He motions to his left pocket.

  “Yeah, sure,” I reply. I dig my hand into his pocket and pull out a set of keys. I pass them to him, and he’s still grinning, probably because I had my hand inside his pocket. He unlocks the door, and we walk inside the apartment. A moment later the security guy arrives with my luggage.

  “Did Grant eat already?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  “Okay! Let me take you to the room. Did you want to share a room?”

  “That would be great. Thank you,” I reply, still feeling uneasy about this. I follow Dick into a large room with a queen-sized bed in the middle. It’s spacious and neat. It has a gray plaid comforter on the bed and light wood furniture. It’s warm and cozy.

  “Thank you for taking us in, Dick. I’m sure I will think of an alternative soon, so we will be out of your hair as quick as possible.”

  “I’ve got the space and you are welcome to stay, Eden.” He grins almost sadly. “Are you hungry?” He raises his eyebrows.

  “Yeah, I’m starved.”

  He places Grant on the bed, and I work to take off his shoes and tuck him in.

  “The place isn’t too complicated. He’s been here before. If he wakes up he will probably remember that Jaden lives here,” Dick says to reassure me.

  I follow Dick to the kitchen. He works to set the table. For the owner of a social media conglomerate, he’s surprisingly down to earth. Not just the way he’s dressed, but his approach to life. His apartment is large, beautiful, and luxurious with
a homey feel to it.

  “Oh, hey …” A young woman walks into the kitchen. I remember her from last night. She must be Ella.

  “Hi, I’m Eden. A friend of Dixon’s.” I extend my hand to shake hers.

  “I’m Ella, I’m uh …” She pauses. I can tell she’s noticed the shiner on my cheek, but she pulls her gaze away quickly. I appreciate she doesn’t linger or ask me what happened.

  “It’s alright. I told her the truth,” Dixon cuts in from the other side of the kitchen.

  “Okay. Right. I read that my brother was quite the ladies’ man.” She giggles. “I didn’t peg him as having female friends.” She smiles sweetly. I want to tell her that I didn’t peg him that way either, but as I get to know Dixon I see that there’s a lot of good in him, despite the gossip columns and his preoccupation with screwing nannies.

  “What’s for dinner?” she asks, looking over to Dixon.

  “Grilled Salmon,” Dick responds. He works quickly getting the table set up, and rejects both of our help.

  “Dixon and I went to elementary school together. We were also neighbors,” I explain, responding to her earlier comment about female friends. “Maybe I’m the exception to his rule,” I say, and Dixon mutters something, but I don’t know what it is. He’s too far away for me to hear.

  “So you’re from Williamsburg?” Ella asks as she takes a bite of her salmon.

  “Well, my family moved out there originally from Manhattan, but yes, I went to elementary and high school in Williamsburg,” I explain. “Mmm, Dixon, this salmon is delicious.”

  “Yeah, I told you Ma is a kick-ass cook,” he confirms. Something about his demeanor seems uneasy. Ella does too. I realize that she’s probably here to get to know her long-lost brother, and I’m interrupting their time together.

  I eat quickly. “Thanks, Dixon, it was delicious. I’m feeling tired. You two have a good night.” I rise from the table.

  “There’s a shower in the room. I’m pretty sure it’s stocked,” he replies with the same uneasy tone. He insisted we come here. I’m not sure what’s on his mind. I know I can’t stop thinking of the sex. Maybe that’s what it is … things have become awkward between us.

  Back in the room, I take a quick shower and slide into bed next to my son. He’s seems so peaceful now. Guilt washes over me when I think of everything he’s witnessed this week with Blythe. It makes me angry that Blythe behaved so badly in front of him. My mind then drifts to Dixon and how uneasy he seemed this evening. I don’t know if it was his sister’s presence or mine that has thrown him for a loop. I can imagine it must have been hard to discover his father made a new family and was living with them. I hate that he has to go through all those negative feelings again. As I think of his hands ravishing my body, I close my eyes and dream of him—the young boy with searing eyes, who has stolen not only my breath but my heart too.

  Ella leans over the table with a lifted brow and asks with a lowered voice, “So is she just a friend, or is it more?” She came to New York so we could get to know one another. I’ve never had a sister, so this is all new to me.

  “An old friend, she told you.” I look to her innocently. She continues to watch me expectantly. Is she waiting for a girly gossip session? Do brothers and sisters even discuss these things? I know Ge and I have discussed women before, but nothing too in depth. It’s more like ‘shit she’s hot,’ or ‘I want to tap that.’ I don’t think that’s what Ella is looking for here.

  “Why don’t I believe you?” She squints her eyes at me, and I laugh. I met her last week, and she already thinks she knows me.

  “I’m really not sure what you’re insinuating here, Little Sister.” I mock her. Clearly blood does run thicker than water because we have this easy way of getting along. Our conversations in Washington were like this too, albeit more intense since I had questions about my father. As I sit across from her and take in her features, I see parts of my father in her: the straight nose, high cheekbones. I’m hoping she didn’t get his personality, but I’m guessing she didn’t. She’s smart, warm, and outgoing. She also informed me that her mother isn’t a big fan of my father. She sees him as a ‘useless user,’ as she puts it. She just never had it in her to throw him out. As a kid, it was hard for me to see her mother as anything more than the mistress that broke up my parents’ marriage and caused my mother to leave. I had a lot of resentment. It’s just hard to resent Ella. She didn’t choose to be born or share a loser father with me.

  “I can see the way she looks at you.” Ella says suggestively, pulling me out of my deep thoughts. Having her here has been good and bad. I may have been craving a sense of family all my life, and it’s nice to know there’s another nice human that shares my blood, but it’s also opened some old wounds.

  “We’re friends. She’s made that abundantly clear.”

  “Uh huh,” Ella answers as if she isn’t buying it, or maybe she has some women’s intuition like Ma. “What happened to her eye?” she asks. I cringe. I should have seen that coming.

  “Her husband,” I answer curtly. This is information I would never repeat, but I know Ella is trying to form a relationship with me, and she looks trustworthy. “She left him tonight. That was the result.”

  Ella sighs. “Our father never hit my mother. He never did much. I hate that Mama never left him and has to put up with him,” she explains, looking past me, clearly pained. “I’m sorry, Dixon. I’m complaining when you didn’t even have parents. He left you behind. I swear I want to beat him for that,” she says, shaking her head.

  “You don’t have to. I’m completely over it,” I lie. I’m not over it. In fact, it completely defines my life.

  Ma chooses that moment to walk into the kitchen. I explain that Eden and Grant will be staying in the guest room for a while.

  “Really? Why?” Her tone is filled with suspicion.

  “She left her husband. She’s a little fragile now,” I explain, not wanting to get into logistics … especially since Ma’s imagination is known to fly away.

  “Well, Jaden’s going to be happy to see his friend here tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, he will be,” I confirm, thinking how lost Eden must be feeling right now.

  “Well, I’ll bid both of you ladies goodnight.” I stand from the table.

  Ella stands too. “Yeah, I’m tired. Definitely time to call it a night.” She pauses to yawn.

  “I’m going to make tea,” Ma says quietly. “You kids sleep well.”

  This week has been all kinds of crazy. First spending time with my newfound sister and listening to stories about a man who abandoned me, and who was useless to her and her mother, then seeing Eden with a bruised face. I knew Blythe Howard was an asshole. I didn’t peg him for the type to hit his wife. I feel like pounding on him myself.

  The next morning I text my ex to meet me at the Sunshine Diner. I don’t want to explain Ella, and now Eden, to her. It’s a Saturday morning and Eden and Grant are still asleep. Ella hasn’t left her room either. After sending both Ella and Eden messages, I head out. My life is out of control … at least my sex life is. Last night I was wound up so tight thinking of Eden sleeping down the hall from my room. Thinking of her in a little nightie got me so hard I actually contemplated knocking on her door and fucking her senseless. Problem is she doesn’t want to go down that road with me again. We’ve clearly crossed over any parent-teacher boundaries at this point, so I thought she should just give in and enjoy the moment. That’s me thinking with my dick. My brain said she’s been through too much recently and to give her time. I decided to listen to my brain, leaving my dick very deprived. The other night was seriously the best sex of my life. It wasn’t even that good with my wife at the beginning. Something about her innocence, and knowing that no one had ever gone down on her got me so fired up that my dick couldn’t get enough. Every time I think of her hesitation when I was getting ready to go down on her … hot damn! I bite my knuckles still trying to control the lust running through my veins. Th
en her whimpers and moans and the sounds she made when her orgasm hit … Fuck, it was the hottest experience of my life. I jacked off three times last night before I could even settle into a peaceful sleep. If she ends up staying with us for a long time, I may become a chronic masturbator because I think she may have ruined me for other women, and that thought highly disturbs me right now since it is so unexpected.

  After a long afternoon at Central Park, the kids are officially exhausted, and so are Ella and me. We rented bikes and the kids had a great time with her. Back in the apartment we are all in lounge mode.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay longer?” I ask Ella. We only just met, and I still want to get to know her.

  “Washington beckons.” She smiles. “How about I come back for Thanksgiving weekend?” she offers.

  “Yes, Daddy, please,” Macy cuts in with a loud voice, surprising me. She is usually so quiet around new people, but she seems to have hit it off with Ella and Eden. It worries me even more that she may feel like she’s missing out on a female role model, which should be her mother.

  “Of course Ella is welcome. Thanksgiving sounds perfect.” I smile, lifting Macy into my arms. Ella takes her one suitcase that has rollers and begins to tug it toward the door.

  Shrugging her shoulders, she says, “Well, thank you again, Dixon.” There’s an awkward tension between us. I’m not sure if I should hug her goodbye or something.

  “Anytime.”

  “You take care and say bye to Eden for me,” she replies with another smile before turning out the door.

  “Will do. The driver is waiting for you in the lobby,” I call out as she makes her way to the elevator. I give her a last wave and head back into the apartment, letting out a breath. Life has really been throwing me some curve balls lately.

  “Daddy, is Eden coming back?” Macy asks, and I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket. It’s already 6:00 p.m. She’s been gone all day. I hope they’re alright.