Dirty Laundry

by Lauren Landish

  I can understand his concern, and it touches me how much he cares for his sister. In a way, it turns me on to see a man who is so caring and kind. It sets my ovaries ablaze, talking to the deepest primal instincts. Here’s a man who would fight for me, protect me and his children . . .

  Is he the one? I ask myself. Is he the man I’ve been waiting for? They talk about them in romance novels and I’ve sung about them hundreds of times, but I never really thought one existed. They’ve always been like unicorns, nonexistent.

  Watching him, I see in him a father figure, a man who will be everything I could ever hope for. God knows, if I ever have kids, they’re going to need a strong father because they’re sure as hell going to inherit some of the Price hell-raising DNA.

  “Jake?” I murmur, reaching over and taking his hand. He turns his head, looking at me with loving eyes.

  “Yes, Roxy?”

  “I have something I need to give you,” I whisper, my heart thudding in my chest.

  “What?” Jake asks, and I shake my head.

  “Not here. Take me back to the club.”

  Jake

  It looks different, pulling in after everything’s closed up. The sun’s just lightening the sky in the east, and I feel a little strange shutting down the engine on my Maserati, the silence deafening.

  For the first time, I can say that Club Jasmine doesn’t look like a museum or a temple, with trash littering the parking lot. There are napkins, a few cigarette butts, and I see some glass from smashed beer bottles. I comfort myself by knowing that the cleaning crew will come in a few hours, making Club Jasmine a jewel again.

  I don’t say anything, my head still swirling. After losing my temper a little with Sophie, and then the tension of watching Roxy somehow put a bandage over things, then now . . . what is it she wants to give me?

  I turn to her, trying to figure things out. “You couldn’t have given me this back at my place?”

  There’s something reassuring in her smile. “Nope. Plus, I didn’t want your sister to hear.”

  I arch my eyebrow inquisitively. Now I’m really curious. “Okay, you got me. Let's go inside.”

  She gives me a secretive smile that only increases my intrigue, and as I lead her up the steps and unlock the door, I feel like I’m being drawn into something that will change my life forever.

  Hitting the lights, I see that the club’s mostly cleaned up. The early crew can get the last of the tables wiped down as they restock the bar. Roxy looks around, her eyes still wide. “It must be wonderful to have all of this,” she says with a sigh. “To know that this place is yours.”

  “Half mine,” I remind her. “We’re off to a good start, but I’ve seen clubs do well at first and then fall flat. We can’t get complacent.”

  “I have faith in this place,” Roxy says, walking up on stage. It’s dark up there. I can barely see her except the glint of sparkles from her outfit. “Where are the lights?”

  “Off to the side. To your left.”

  Roxy disappears, and I can hear her fumbling around in the darkness. “Found it!” she yells. There’s a click, and the LED floodlights come on, illuminating the stage. Roxy comes out, a pleased look on her face. “That’s better. Now, can you come stand over here please?”

  I see where she’s pointing, and I climb up, chuckling. “What are we doing, reenacting a play? I’m telling you now, I’m horrible at remembering lines.”

  “No,” Roxy says, going backstage again before returning with one of the microphones. “I know this isn’t turned on, but I just can’t do this without one.”

  She points to a chair that’s in the middle of the dance floor, and I grab it, sitting down. “Okay, okay . . . so what’s all this about?”

  “I’m calling this Heartstopper,” Roxy says as she lifts the microphone to her lips, and what comes out is . . . angelic. “It’s been too long, gotta get out, hittin up the new spot with my girl. Lookin’ sexy as hell, workin’ the floor, hoping to give this place a whirl . . .”

  There’s no backing track, no instruments or sound system. Just the purity of Roxy’s voice as she sings for me. It’s slow, and I can tell that the song’s supposed to be faster, but as she starts the second verse, realization sets in . . . she’s singing about me.

  “Your touch is electric, has been from the start. Give it to me, baby, or I’ma stop your heart . . .”

  I’m grinning as Roxy finishes, smiling as she lowers the useless microphone away from her lips. “Well, now.”

  Roxy’s face falls, and she blushes as she begins rambling. “It’s crap, isn’t it? I just wanted to write a song for you, and in my head, it sounds good. I just have to get everything right. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to come off as a fucking cheeseball. I should have waited and prepared more. I’m sorry, every time I try and write something myself, it ends up coming out sounding like eighties shit-schlock . . .”

  “I think it’s amazing.”

  My quiet declaration cuts off her self-defeating rant before she can even get warmed up, and she looks up at me, her eyes full of hope. “You think so?”

  I nod, getting out of my seat and walking up on stage. I reach out, taking her hand. “Roxy, it’s not a ballad, but I heard it. I heard the beat. I can see you singing that in front of like, fifty thousand people. It’s great. Two things, though.”

  “What?” Roxy asks, and I chuckle.

  “Let’s get a drink first. I feel like a good one right now.”

  Roxy nods, and I lead her over to the bar, going behind to start mixing. “I’m not a bartender, but I know my way around a kitchen or bar.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” Roxy says, her eyes full of curiosity. “What are you making?”

  “The evil version of the Little Mermaid,” I say, adding in a second shot of Curacao. “When Nathan first tried it, it knocked him on his ass.”

  I add a splash of maraschino cherry juice, and Roxy hums. “That’s not gonna be blue.”

  “Nope,” I agree, shaking up the mix and pouring it into two martini glasses. It comes out just the right shade of purple, and I grin. “We call it The Ursula.”

  Roxy laughs and lifts the glass. “So I was so bad that you need to get me wasted to numb the pain?”

  I shake my head and raise my own glass. “No, a toast. To you and to Heartstopper.”

  We clink glasses and sip, and the drink is just as strong as I remember. Roxy gasps, setting her glass down. “Shit, now I know why you only give a martini size. Whooo!”

  “Yeah, I’m not trying to get you sloppy drunk,” I agree, setting my glass down. I come around the bar, sitting down on the stool next to her. “So, about the song . . .”

  “Yeah?” she asks, and I reach out, putting my hand on her warm, smooth thigh, my body thrilling as the feeling of having her so close sweeps over me.

  I pull her closer, taking her hand and putting it over my heart. “You have to know something. You’ve stopped my heart, too. In fact, you’ve captured it.”

  Watching Roxy’s face, I can tell when it hits her what I’m saying. “You mean . . .”

  “I mean I’ve fallen in love with you, Roxy. You want my heart? It’s yours.”

  I place my hand on Roxy’s chest, just like in her song, and I feel the rapid thrumming of her heart. She feels as fragile as a hummingbird. Roxy steps closer, pressing her body up against me. “Jake . . . I love you too.”

  I stroke my hand over Roxy’s breast through her top, her nipple quickly hardening as I lower my head, kissing her soft lips. There’s a hint of the curacao and cherry on her breath as our tongues wrap sinuously around each other, Roxy moaning into my mouth as I stroke her nipple through her dress, her body pressing against me as our hunger rises.

  “Oh, God, Jake . . . I need you,” Roxy whispers, and I can hear in her tone that she means more than just for a good fucking. I lift her up. She’s so light that putting her on the bar is easy. “What are you . . .?”

  “Having desse
rt,” I tease, kissing along her neck. I find the zipper on Roxy’s dress, and I love the tension that builds with every click of the tiny teeth as I ease it down her back, my fingers exploring and stroking her sensitive skin. “Mmm, never done this before.”

  “Done what?” she half moans, sighing as I suck on the hollow at the base of her throat.

  “Sex on a bar,” I joke, pulling her dress down her body. As soon as her breasts are exposed to the soft light, I devour them, sucking hard on her right nipple as I pinch and tug on its twin, Roxy gasping and clutching my head to her as I feast upon her curves. “Lie back.”

  Roxy looks at me in wonder as she leans back, but it’s not quite wide enough, so I twist her body, glad we’re on a corner of the bar. Laying her back, I lift her skirt, enveloping my head in shadows as I kiss up the inside of her thighs. Roxy trembles, and I love that she can’t see anything, just feel, as my tongue traces over her skin, moving higher and higher until I’m licking the edges of her panties.

  She groans as I trace around them, moving closer and closer to where she wants “Jake . . .”

  The first touch of my tongue to her pussy makes her jump, and I’m ravenous as I taste her, my cock throbbing in my pants as I pull the cloth to the side and slide my tongue inside her.

  Her hips are shaking, thrusting against my quick tongue as I trace up and down her slit, sucking in between. I slip my tongue as deep as I can inside her, wiggling it and feeling her pussy clench around me before I pull out to flick the tip of my tongue over her clit. Roxy reaches down, grabbing my head again as she grinds her pussy against my mouth, pulling my hair. It’s another thing I love about her. She’s a woman who knows what she wants when it comes to sex, and she isn’t going to just lie there for me.

  “That’s it, baby, that’s how I like it,” Roxy moans as I nibble and lick her clit. “Oh, Jake, oh, fuck, right there . . . oh, fuck, right there . . .”

  I find the spot that she’s looking for and lick faster, but with feather light strokes I devour her, my body aching as my cock presses against the fabric of my pants. I want to fuck her so badly.

  Suddenly, Roxy’s hips lift off the bar, her thighs clamping around my ears as she comes. I hold her close, my hands reaching up to take hers as her body shakes like a leaf in the wind.

  When she comes down, she’s still gasping, her face covered in sweat as I pull my head out from under her skirt and she strokes my face. “You sure do like going down on me, don’t you?”

  “It’s a gift,” I tease, pulling her closer. “Now . . .”

  “Your turn,” she says, glancing around. “This is way too high for you to fuck me though.”

  I look and realize Roxy’s right. I pick her up off the bar, looking at a nearby table before she squirms and turns around, bending over one of the barstools as she grabs the thin chrome railing that goes around the whole thing. I can’t help it, I grin. “You know just how to look sexier every time.”

  Roxy looks back, giving me a saucy grin. “Well, are you going to fuck me or compliment me?”

  I growl lightly, lifting her skirt before smacking the upturned curve of her ass, Roxy gasping at the flat crack of my hand on her skin. I can just see her glistening pussy lips from behind the way she’s bent over, and my cock pulses to my heartbeat as I pull my shirt off and reach into my pants pocket, taking out a condom.

  “No,” Roxy whispers as she sees the package. “Please, Jake. I love you. I want to feel you. All of you. No condom.”

  I nod and let the condom tumble from my fingers to the ground, instead running my hands over Roxy’s ass. I undo my pants the rest of the way and take my cock out, letting it bob to my heartbeat as I line myself up. I take her hips in my hand as I thrust my hips slowly, letting her juices coat my cock as I slide between her lips, my cockhead rubbing over her clit as she moans.

  I line up my cock with her pussy, pausing. “You sure?”

  “I am,” she says softly, looking over her shoulder. “Never been surer.”

  I nod, pushing forward. My cock stretches Roxy open, and the feeling as I thrust into her in one long, deep stroke sweeps away all thought in a wave of static. I can’t think. I can only feel as I grab her by the waist and pull back, thrusting harder and deeper into her.

  My body is on fire, and I stroke in and out quickly. I can’t take my time. There’s no way I can hold back as she drives me wild. I’m grunting, sweat dripping down my face as I spank her ass, Roxy yelping and pushing back into me, meeting my thrusts with her ass, our hips smacking together with sharp slapping sounds. I pound her body, driving deeply into her with each hard stroke of my steely hard dick. I pull her harder into me, grabbing her elbows and fucking her harder, each moan and cry from her lips pushing me faster and faster.

  I feel my cock swell. I can’t hold out much longer, but I don’t care. I’m going to fill her up. With one more stroke, I’m pushed over the edge, and I cry out harshly, slamming my cock deep into Roxy. She cries out too, her pussy clamping tight on my cock as she comes with me, the both of us frozen as I hold her, unable to let go.

  When our bodies relax again, I slide her off the barstool, gathering Roxy in my arms as she wraps her legs around me, burying her face in my neck. “I’ve got you, my love.”

  “Love . . . I never thought I’d hear a man say that to me,” Roxy whispers. “Jake . . . even if it’s secret, I have to have your love.”

  Her words hurt, and I set her on the barstool, stepping back to shake my head. “No.”

  “No, what?” she asks, and I hear a hint of fear in her voice.

  “It’s not going to be a secret. Roxy, I don’t care about the rules anymore, consequences be damned. Nathan won’t care. It’s only the office. Well, you’re more important than being Regional President of Franklin Consolidated.”

  Roxy beams as she looks around and finds her top, then she grins. “I guess I’m pretty special?”

  “The most special,” I reassure her, finding my pants and pulling them on. “Now, there is one thing we still need to do before we get out of here though.”

  “What’s that?”

  I chuckle and point behind Roxy. She turns, gasping when she sees the glint of light on the camera lens. “We were on camera?”

  “Yep. Unless you want to run the risk of becoming Internet infamous, I think we should stop by the security office and delete the past hour or so of tape.”

  Jake

  I feel like a new man Monday morning as I get ready for work. The shackles that constrained me? I’ve released them. I no longer feel the need to play by the rules. I’m going to proudly have Roxy on my arm. Let the whole world see that I’m the luckiest man in all the world.

  Of course, I’m still going to do my best to uphold decorum at work and keep it professional, but I’m not going to deny anything if I’m approached about it. It’s my business what I do when I’m not at work, and there’s no way I’m going to let anyone dictate anything to me. If Corporate wants to throw a piss party about it, let them.

  I finish buttoning up my shirt, the classic blue with white collar, and tighten my tie before I get my coat and leave my room. I pause in the hallway, admitting to myself that I’m not looking forward to going to Sophie’s room after the other night. We haven’t talked much since. Sunday had about three words, and Sophie only came out of her room when it was time to get takeout. She wouldn’t even let me cook her breakfast but instead took a couple of packets of Pop Tarts into her room.

  I try her doorknob, but it’s locked. I lean my head forward and almost rest it against the wood. I want to bang on the door, demanding she let me in. We’ve been lucky. We haven’t had anything like this happen before. Instead, I remember what Roxy told me, and I take a deep breath. Knocking softly, I force myself to talk normally. “Sophie? Time to get ready for school.”

  Her door opens so quickly that I don’t even have time to lower my hand. “Already am,” she says sullenly, brushing past me as I take a stunned half step back. She stalks down
the hallway, and I follow her into the kitchen, watching as she half slings her backpack onto the table.

  “So what would you like . . .”

  “Not hungry,” she says before I can set my coat aside and grab a skillet. “Already had a Pop Tart.”

  I can’t lie, her words really sting. I’ve cooked her breakfast every morning that I’ve been home for as long as I can remember. Now, she’s eating goddamn Pop Tarts, of all things. But at least she’s talking.

  “Okay,” I say, mixing up a meal replacement smoothie of my own. It’s green and tastes like I’m licking the inside of a lawnmower, but it’s quick. Just as I choke down the last of the gloop, Sophie crosses her arms over her chest.

  “Can we go?”

  I grab my jacket, fishing out a breath mint as we go downstairs. On the way to school, she’s silent, staring out the window as the city rolls by. Finally, when we’re about a half mile away from school and stopped at a red light, I can’t take it anymore. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened. And you’re right, I’m not Dad, but I can’t allow you to break the rules or the law, no matter how much that makes you hate me.”

  “I don’t hate you,” she says quietly, still looking out the window.

  I snort. “Sure have been acting like it. We’ve always been close.”

  Sophie turns, looking at me, and I see the same stubbornness that I swear must run in our family. “I just didn’t think it was fair. Jax is not a bad guy.”

  I could argue the point. “It might be true,” I say, “but the fact that he’s going out with a minor and thought it was okay to bring you to a club says he doesn’t think.”

  “Jake—”

  “Hang on, I’m not done,” I say quietly as the light turns green. “Sophie, I’m only going to say this once, and I don’t have a lot of time. First, I love you. I’m kind of learning as we go on, so I’m nowhere near perfect. But I know guys like this Jax. Maybe he does care about you. But if he does, then he should care enough not to be doing the things he did. He should respect you. Don’t settle for a guy who won’t.”