Betrayed (Whiskey Nights #4)

by Suzannah Daniels

  I hardened at the thought.

  Her fingers edged farther down, circling my pectoral muscle.

  “How far down does it hurt?” she asked.

  “All down through there,” I told her. It was a lie. I liked her hands on me. I liked the way her touch made my skin tingle with anticipation. I liked the way she made me feel, more alive than I’d felt in months, hell, maybe years.

  Her dark hair was clean but disheveled, tumbling around her shoulders. I wanted to dig my fingers in it and yank her head back, exposing the tender flesh of her neck to my lips. Instead, I let the back of my knuckles brush along her flesh just inside her knee.

  Her chest rose and fell as if that simple action had sucked the air from her lungs and she was struggling to get it back.

  After all these years, she was still affected by me.

  That thought made me feel powerful, and once again, I found myself contemplating running my fingertips up her thighs.

  “Does that make it feel better?” she asked, her voice a breathless whisper.

  Hell, I’d barely thought of my shoulder since she started. It was another body part that needed relief.

  Placing my hands on each side of her waist, I slowly lowered her until she was sitting on my knee.

  She said nothing, just watched me as she swallowed nervously. Repositioning my hands, I opted to slide them under her shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of her body as they once again settled in the curve of her waist. She clung to my arms to steady herself.

  Skimming my hands up her sides, I lightly brushed my thumbs against the weight of her breasts. She exhaled softly, causing my hard-on to twinge with need. My fingers worked their way beneath the edge of her bra, and I studied her face to see her reaction. Her eyelids fluttered closed. Her full lips parted. Her chest rose as she inhaled deeply.

  She thrust her breasts toward my palms, and I answered her need. Shoving the bra upward, I squeezed her breasts, rubbing my palms over her tautened nipples.

  “Max,” she whispered.

  It’d been so long since she had called me that in the heat of passion. I’d missed it. I’d missed her.

  I lifted her shirt, taking in the sight of her sweet breasts. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her swiftly toward me and flicked my tongue over her nipple. Groaning with need, I took her in my mouth, tasting her soft flesh. She arched her back, her hands pulling me to her as she pushed her breasts toward me.

  She moaned softly as she pressed into my leg, grinding against my thigh. Hearing her response sent me into a frenzy of desire. Reluctantly, I released her and tugged her shirt up over her head. One hand squeezed her breast. The other unfastened her bra. She let it fall to the floor, and then her hands splayed across my cheeks as she lowered her mouth to mine.

  I shoved my hand into the back of her shorts, thankful that they had an elastic waistband as I squeezed her buttocks.

  Damn, I wanted her.

  Gently pushing her back until she was standing on her own, I pulled her to me, pressing a kiss against the flat of her stomach. Her hands glided over my shoulders, skimmed along my back, and then weaved into my hair. It was as if she wanted to touch me everywhere, all at once.

  I pulled down her shorts until they fell to the floor, leaving her standing in a pair of transparent white panties trimmed in lace. Gripping her hips, I forced her back a step, so I could take in her appearance, the way the diaphanous fabric allowed a glimpse of the treasure that lay just beneath.

  My breath expelled erratically as I reached out and ran a finger along her slit, feeling her warmth through the cloth.

  Her fingertips dug into my back, and it was all the encouragement I needed to slip beneath the cloth, to apply enough pressure to glide between her slick folds.

  Her scent was nearly my undoing, and I was rock hard with my need.

  I teased her nub, gliding my finger across it in circular motions. She spread her legs, and my finger gently glided back until it was probing her core. I slipped a finger inside her, and she moaned softly.

  I wanted her, and she was ready.

  Reluctantly, I eased out of her, my hands going to the buttons on my shorts. I unzipped my fly, ready to free myself when a piercing cry sounded from the other side of the apartment.

  We both paused, breathing heavily.

  The crying intensified.

  Jess took a step back. “I have to go to him.”

  I motioned toward the doorway, and she bent down, gathering her clothing and disappearing from the kitchen.

  Feeling completely unsatisfied, I stood and fastened my pants. I scooped up my shirt, tugged it over my head, and left the apartment.

  ***

  I went to the movies. Intentionally picking a movie that had been out for a while so it would be less crowded, I sat in the back corner among a section of empty seats. My phone was turned off, and once the lights went out, I was guaranteed that no one would bother me.

  I paid little attention to the movie, wondering instead how I’d managed to be living with the one person with whom I’d never wanted to have contact again. Not only that, but how the hell had I lost control with her?

  I was fortunate that we’d been interrupted before I’d let my damn hormones lead me around as if I were nothing more than a marionette, unable to think for myself.

  Avoidance would have been much easier if she hadn’t been so personable and if I didn’t feel so damn guilty about Rachel’s attack.

  Being near her stirred feelings within me, feelings that I thought were long gone, feelings that I wanted to seal up in impenetrable containers and store miles underground like nuclear waste.

  Gunfire exploded on the screen, momentarily demanding my attention. I yawned, clear evidence that living with a baby was exhausting.

  At least it wasn’t forever.

  I yawned again, unable to escape my fatigue as the movie scene shifted to something quieter. Scrunching down in the seat until my knees hit the back of the seat in front of me, I tilted my head back against the cushion and closed my eyes, promising myself I would only rest them for a moment.

  ***

  The apartment was relatively dark when I got home. Jessica lay sleeping on the couch with Joseph tucked between her body and the back of the couch. Attempting to maneuver the apartment without turning the overhead light on, I headed toward the bathroom. Midway there, my foot hit something, a rattle or a toy, and sent it skidding across the floor until it clashed with the wall, emitting a shockwave of noise.

  Jess jerked awake, and a high-pitched wail torpedoed into the air, filling every square inch of the living room with his frightened cries.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  Jess jumped to her feet and lifted Joseph to her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

  “Apparently my ninja-like stealth skills aren’t quite as honed as they were in my teenage years, but other than that, I’m fine.”

  She flipped the light on. “I’m so sorry. I should have picked it up, but by the time he went to sleep, I was half-asleep myself.”

  Joseph continued to cry.

  “It’s about time for him to eat, anyway. I’m going to fix him a bottle.”

  She headed for the kitchen while I searched for the object that had knocked the entire apartment off-kilter. I spotted it in the hallway, its resting place after I’d kicked it as if I were attempting to make a field goal. As I reached down to pick it up, I wondered how the hell such a small toy could make so much noise.

  I walked back into the living room, dropped it in the diaper bag, and went to the restroom.

  When I finished, Jess was still in the kitchen with Joseph. I could tell the moment she had his bottle ready because silence fell upon the apartment like a mushroom cloud.

  It was such a drastic change that the quietness was deafening in itself.

  Pausing at the entrance to the kitchen, I leaned against the doorframe. Jessica held Joseph’s bottle as if she were in zombie mode. Her eyes were closed, her lashes f
anning across her cheeks. She slowly swayed, and I wasn’t sure if she was trying to soothe him or if she was in danger of collapsing.

  Her tousled hair framed her face, a face that was slightly fuller than it had been when we were teens. Even though I’d always found her beautiful, she was even more so now.

  I tried to remember all the reasons why I didn’t want to get close to her, all the reasons I’d decided this afternoon’s events should have been avoided. But as I watched her expending the last of her energy to care for her child, I felt nothing but admiration.

  “Here,” I said, pushing myself off the doorframe and approaching her. “I’ll feed him. Go get some rest.”

  Her eyelids flew open, and she straightened her posture. Clearly, she’d had no idea I’d been watching her. “I got him.”

  I motioned for her to hand him over. “I’m not making any promises, but I think I can handle him for a few minutes. I have a feeling you’ll know if things don’t go well.”

  She yawned. “He’s my responsibility. We’ve intruded on your lifestyle too much already.”

  Closing the distance between us, I held my arm out, waiting for her to hand him over. “Give him to me.”

  She studied me a moment more, although I had no idea whether she was contemplating my seriousness or questioning my abilities. And honestly, I had no idea what I was doing. The last time I’d cared for him had been proof enough of that. But I would wing it, and at least this time, she wouldn’t be any farther away than the next room.

  Reluctantly, she transferred him to me. He watched me with wide eyes and seemed to be satisfied that it was now I who held him.

  “Are you sure?” Jessica asked.

  I nodded. “Go rest.”

  Her eyes lingered on Joseph a moment more, and then she left the room.

  “Okay, buddy. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but let’s give Mommy a break, all right?”

  I stayed in the kitchen a couple of more minutes. Once I felt he was used to me, I took him into the living room. I sat in the recliner and turned on the television. “Just a little over a week to go until we can watch college football. And you may have been born in Kentucky, but you’re in Tennessee now. So it’s definitely a requirement to root for the Volunteers.”

  Making sucking noises, he watched me as I spoke.

  “Go Big Orange,” I told him. “Can you say that? Go Big Orange.”

  He pulled away from the bottle, his eyes wide.

  “Go Big Orange,” I repeated.

  His cheeks fattened as he smiled. He waved a fist in the air and let out a string of nonsensical noises.

  “Go Big Orange.”

  Babbling, he shot me another huge grin. I had no idea what he was saying, but as far as I was concerned, it had something to do with his love for the Tennessee Volunteers.

  “You’re all right for a guy who hasn’t yet learned to control his bowels.” He reached for me, his chubby fingers waving in the air. “I’ll let you hang out in my man cave if you promise me one thing.”

  He watched me as if he were waiting for me to announce my conditions.

  “Save the dirty diapers for your mom.”

  Chapter 7

  Guns

  Jessica

  I awoke with a start. Lying on my stomach, I glanced around the darkened room. Where was I? I groped the mattress beside me, longing for the security that I could only get once I rested my hand on Joseph’s belly to make sure he was breathing.

  But I could only feel the soft mattress beneath my fingers. I pushed myself up, adrenaline pumping through my system like ice water and forcing my heart to beat frantically.

  Upon realizing I was in Paxton’s bed and I’d left Joseph with him, I attempted to calm the raging anxiety that engulfed me.

  My heartbeat thundered as I sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath.

  I glanced at the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock and realized it had been four hours since I’d lain down. Why hadn’t Pax awakened me?

  Pushing myself to my feet, I opened the door, listening to see if I could hear Joseph.

  The house was silent.

  I tiptoed through the hallway and flipped on the bathroom light, allowing it to spill into the living room. I spotted Pax leaned back in the recliner, his face relaxed in sleep, a pillow across his lap. Joseph lay on his side across the pillow, his tiny fist resting against Pax’s bare stomach. Pax’s arm disappeared beneath the pillow, his hand visible on the other side as it curled toward Joseph’s back.

  Warmth exploded in my body. For all of Paxton’s talk about not wanting children, he’d apparently done an incredible job of getting Joseph to sleep.

  Tears pricked my eyes. I knew the scene in front of me might be a mirage, but I wanted to snap a mental image and savor it. I wanted to find a man who would love me and Joseph, a man who would teach Joseph all the things that I couldn’t, a man who would teach my son how to be a man.

  I knew what it was to grow up without a father, and I didn’t want that for Joseph. Like any good mother, I wanted to give him all the things that I never had. I wanted him to be surrounded by people who loved him.

  A tear slid down my cheek.

  My poor baby. Not only did he not have a father, but he didn’t have any grandparents, either. He would always have my love, my complete and absolute devotion, but would that be enough? I wanted so much more for him. I wanted to give him everything, and I had nothing.

  As I stood motionless, soaking in the way Paxton held him protectively, I knew that in this world, it wouldn’t take much to make me happy. I didn’t care about being rich, only about having enough that I could give my baby what he needed. Life wasn’t about having a big house or a fancy car, it was about the people. People like my mother.

  I desperately wished she were here. Not only could I use her advice, but I also wanted to feel her arms around me, to hear her tell me everything was going to turn out fine. I wanted her to see Joseph, to watch him grow up, and I wanted him to know the love of a grandmother, to go to her house and get cookies even after I told him to wait until he had supper, to climb into her lap and listen to stories of the things she used to do when she was a little girl.

  I wanted holidays to be filled with memories of huge family gatherings where all the children ate supper at the kids’ table and scarfed down their food so they could get back to playing.

  I didn’t realize I was sobbing until I tasted the salt of my tears as they pooled at my lips. Studying Pax’s profile, I wished things were different between us. We hadn’t spoken about what had happened earlier. Maybe it was better if we didn’t. Judging by the way he had fled, it was clear to me that he thought it a mistake.

  Contemplating whether I should retrieve Joseph, I elected not to wake him. I swiped at the tears on my cheeks, flipped off the bathroom light, and returned to the bedroom.

  I didn’t know why I was being so emotional, but I blamed it on exhaustion. Settling in the slight impression in the mattress where Pax normally slept, I clutched his pillow to my chest and cried myself to sleep.

  Paxton

  I heard a noise. Jerking my head toward the source, I focused just enough to see Jessica as she turned down the hallway. A second later, the soft light gave way to darkness, but even though I could no longer see her, I heard her suck in a shattered breath. Starting to rise, it took me a second to realize the weight in my lap was a sleeping baby.

  Joseph.

  He was a pretty cool kid while he was sleeping. I lightly patted his back, wondering if I should check on his mother.

  I heard the soft thump of the door as it was pushed closed, and silence once again filled the house.

  A folded blanket had been spread across the floor on the far end of the room. It was a pallet that Jessica sometimes used when Joseph was content sitting on the floor and playing with his toys. If I was in the mood for a challenge, I could attempt to lay him there without waking him, freeing me up to check on his mother, who had possibl
y been crying.

  And if she was, what would I say to her?

  Guilt purled in my thoughts. Was she upset over what had happened between us?

  And if I did attempt to go to her and woke Joseph in the process, what then?

  He was content, and I opted to let him sleep, to let her sleep.

  If she was upset, then she could use the rest. Most problems sorted themselves out in the light of day.

  Jessica

  I woke up before dawn, feeling more rested than I had in months. Last night’s events came rushing back to me, and I pulled myself into a seated position on the side of the bed. Pausing, I stretched a moment before I forced myself to my feet.

  I opened the door and listened, wondering if Joseph was awake.

  “Be still,” Paxton said. “How am I supposed to get your dirty shirt off if you keep moving?”

  Joseph gurgled in response.

  Paxton let out a whistle. “Have you been working out? Look at those guns!”

  A high-pitched babble filled the air, and I couldn’t keep a smile from creeping across my face.

  “Keep it up because I can tell you right now, chicks dig those muscles. They might not be real crazy about all that slobbering, though.”

  I slid my hand over my mouth to make sure no sounds escaped. Maybe I should go in the living room to make sure it really was Paxton and that Cade hadn’t stopped over this morning.

  “Those biceps are going to look good in a jersey. You remember what kind of jersey, right? Big Orange. Just think, one day you could play football for the Tennessee Volunteers.”

  Joseph replied in a series of sounds.

  “Big Orange,” Pax drawled. “Say it with me. Big Orange. Those should be your first words.”

  I shook my head, silently disagreeing with him.