by Alexis Anne
“Can I touch your hair?”
I nodded and hummed “Yes.”
He slid his fingers into my bun and grabbed hold, gently guiding my movements. “You know what I want, Carrie.”
I nodded and hummed, all while massaging his seam with my thumb, working my wetness into his skin.
“Oh god. Yes. I’m going to come.” His fingers moved through my hair while his other hand reached down and around to find my nipple. I moaned around his cock as he pinched and rolled. My core contracted around the plug and balls. “I’m coming,” he said. “Press harder, babe.”
Up his seam and down, I pressed one long, hard line until I felt the warmth of his orgasm in the back of my throat. While he barked out my name over and over again I kept up the work of my hands until he was absolutely spent.
He collapsed backward onto the bed, panting. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Mission accomplished. I blew his mind and cock all at once. Now to really complete the mind-fuckery, I needed to get out of there before he recovered.
“I’m just going to go use the bathroom.”
“Sure, sure, babe. Whatever you need.” He waved a hand lazily through the air, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, his eyes closed. With any luck he’d fall back to sleep.
I dropped the tools I’d used into the sink and hopped in the shower for the quickest rinse of my life, then pulled on my dress at lightning speed.
He wasn’t asleep when I peeked out, but his eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved. I crept out of the bedroom, grabbed my purse, and left, realizing that toying with Wes had gone completely, colossally wrong.
I had feelings for him. Feelings that were growing by the day . . . and there was only one way to deal with that.
I had to break up with Wes.
19
Wes, present day
Zoe hadn’t been lying.
If anything, she’d been kind in her description of how much attention I’d get at this book signing. The cover released yesterday and the internet traffic alone was mind boggling.
I mean, it was a good picture.
A black and white of my shirtless body flexing as I stared down the camera. Her new title, “Hooked Up” in gold letters across the middle, her name at the bottom. It was hot.
But the reaction? I did not expect that. My Instagram followers exploded, my Facebook friend list maxed out, and my YouTube channel was cranking in the advertising dollars like crazy.
So I really should have expected the line at the entrance to the signing, but it still blew my mind.
“And I’m supposed to hang out in the bar after this? I might need to call some security.”
Zoe craned around the corner and whistled. “No shit. Can you do that?”
Could I do that? I laughed. “We have security on hold all the time. Let me call Sienna.”
I followed Zoe back inside to our table as I called. Sienna took care of it quickly and promised help would be there before the signing was over.
“So you like her?”
I shrugged. “So far so good. She’s super professional and says we’re close to a deal.”
Zoe’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? For real this time?”
“The Manta’s catcher announced yesterday that he is officially retiring at the end of the season. They have two pitchers that prefer Suarez as their catcher, but the rest all used Campbell. And Campbell and I have a similar style. I think I’m a good fit, and so far the team agrees.”
The little pixie jumped up and down, then threw her arms around my neck. “This is great news! And when you and Carrie settle down it means I’ll actually get to see my friend again.”
“What do you mean? I thought the threesome was inseparable.”
She rolled her eyes. “Carrie has been spending most of her free time to go visit you since you have this crazy schedule that involves working six days a week.”
“If she takes me back.”
“That’s what today is for.” Then she pulled me down to whisper in my ear. “I even convinced a couple of my fans to talk you up—no name of course—when she gets to the bar.”
“Aren’t games like this what got us into trouble in the first place? Maybe we’re going too far.”
“It’s just some nice things. They won’t be lying. They’re just making sure Carrie hears it.”
“Doors are opening!” a voice yelled from the other side of the large room. There were probably a hundred authors there to sign books for the next four hours. I’d never seen anything like it.
“You ready for this?” Zoe poked my side.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Two women with event badges walked over to check with Zoe before going over to the special side door where our line was staged. The door opened and a stream of women headed directly for us. “Here goes nothing.”
I smiled. I posed. I made conversation, using every ounce of energy I had to charm the pants off of every fan. I thought it would be mind numbingly boring, but I was wrong.
It was fun.
The women were all so genuinely happy. They loved Zoe’s books and they couldn’t wait to meet me. Not just because they liked the cover—although I heard over and over how much they liked it—but because they wanted the story. Zoe posted with the cover reveal that we were friends. They wanted to know more. What was it like being friends with a romance author? What was it like being friends with a Major League Baseball catcher? How did we meet? Was there something more there?
“No,” I laughed, then grabbed Zoe and gave her a light, friendly noogie. “We are more like brother and sister. There is nothing romantic here.”
“Not between us,” she said, leaning forward with a glint in her demon pixie eyes.
Oh shit. What was she going to say?
I held my breath.
“Wes is madly in love with my best friend. They got married in Vegas. It was all terribly romantic.” She shot me a look. “Until he lost her.”
Their faces fell.
“That is not even remotely close to the real story.” I shot her a look. “We got married fast because we knew it was right, but that doesn’t mean you know how to be married. We’re working on figuring this out.”
“You really love her, don’t you?” a woman who looked to be about our age asked. “I can tell. You have the same look on your face that my husband had when we got married.”
There were tears in her eyes. “What look is that?”
She batted a tear away. “Like you can’t believe you got so lucky and you’ll do anything to make her happy.” She sniffled. “I lost my husband a year ago to cancer. That’s why I love Zoe’s books. I can relive my love over and over with each new book she writes.”
Damn. I got up from the table and squeezed out to hug her. At first she was stiff but then she softened and cried against my chest. I moved on instinct, rubbing her back and saying soothing things, all while my heart pounded in my chest. Cancer sucked. It just absolutely sucked. “I’m so sorry. What’s your name?”
“Angela.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Angela. I lost my mom to cancer when I was ten.”
She pulled back. “And I’m sorry for your loss.” She shook her head. “We’ll get through though, won’t we?”
“We will.” I hugged her again. If we could get through losing people we loved and still want more, then that had to be enough.
THE BAR WAS FILLED to capacity but the fans were being polite, approaching kindly and leaving quickly. The security Sienna sent over watched from a distance, only stepping in when a fan got handsy—which mercifully only happened twice.
So far.
“How much longer until she gets here?”
Zoe shrugged. “She said she was on the way thirty minutes ago. She should be here by now.”
Maybe she heard I was here. Carrie wasn’t big into social media but with my luck this would be the one weekend she checked before heading out.
But then s
he was here. I’d been watching the entrance for the last hour so I saw her the minute she appeared in another flowing wrap dress that reminded me of so many other nights. Our relationship was short, but it already dominated my thoughts and memories.
“Wes?” Zoe smacked my arm.
“She’s here.”
“Oh.” She went up on tiptoes but still couldn’t see over the crowd the way I could so I lifted her up. “Oh! You can put me down now.”
I set her down and then sat so my big head wasn’t visible over the crowd. “What do I do? Sit and wait for her to show up? Disappear so you can get her comfortable?”
“Why don’t you get us a fresh round of drinks from the other side of the bar?”
It was probably a bad idea to leave the safety and security of our booth, but I did it. It gave me a chance to talk to a few more fans and by the time I returned, Carrie was nestled into the middle of the booth—where it would be hardest to escape.
Zoe was an evil genius.
“Champagne for Zoe and a gin and tonic for my wife.”
The blood drained from her cheeks as she watched me set the glass in front of her.
“Oh my gosh! You’re the wife!” Angela squealed. “Wes is the sweetest. What do you think of the cover?”
Her eyes swung over to Angela. “Cover?”
Zoe shoved the 8x10 in front of her face. “Wes is my new cover model. Doesn’t he look amazing?”
She took the photograph, blinking several times. “It’s a great cover, Zo.”
“I can’t believe you get to go home with that!” Angela said, eyeballing the cover. “You have a seriously sexy husband. I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”
“He is sexy. There is no denying that.” Her voice was flat. Devoid of any emotion—anger or otherwise.
“Oh my gosh. Everything is coming out all wrong. I think that’s my cue to call it a night.” She turned to Zoe. “It was so great to spend the evening with you. Thank you again for all of your books. I can’t tell you what they mean to me.” Then she turned to me, clasping my hand. “Thank you for what you said. Good luck with everything.”
I gave her a hug and sent her on her way, all while watching Carrie. She wouldn’t meet my gaze.
“And what is it you said to this woman, Wes?”
At least she waited until Angela was out of earshot.
“She lost her husband to cancer last year. We shared a few words about how much it sucks.”
She blanched. “Oh.” She didn’t sip her drink. She didn’t look at me.
I wanted to kiss her. Kiss her until she moaned and begged me to take her home. But a kiss wouldn’t do that anymore. Intention. I needed more than instinct.
And while my instinct was always to kiss her, I needed to do more.
I reached across the table and touched her fingertips. “I miss you. Please return my phone calls.”
“What good will that do?”
“I want to apologize.”
“And I want to think for myself.”
“Don’t play the victim.”
Well, at least she finally looked at me. It was with death in her eyes, but she was looking at me. “You lied. You talked me into something when I wasn’t in my right mind.”
“Or maybe it was the first time you made a decision because you wanted to. Have you thought about that? You are always so concerned with being free and uncontrolled that you base all your decisions on what other people might do. I swear that night in Vegas it was all you. I’ve never seen you so happy or free. You didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No. It doesn’t. Which is why I want to apologize. I’m so sorry, Carrie. I never, ever meant to hurt you.”
“Let me out.” She shoved on Zoe’s shoulder.
Zoe scooted quickly. “Don’t be mad at everyone. It was a mistake. Talk to him.”
Carrie glared at Zoe. “You should stop talking. I can’t believe you tricked me into this.”
“What choice did we have? You’re being unreasonable. I love you. He loves you. And you won’t let either of us in. You’d rather be mad and alone.”
Carrie didn’t even bother to reply. She simply shot me another death look and disappeared into the crowd.
“Well that went well. Should I go after her?”
“Nope.” Zoe said. “It’s not time for that yet.”
“This was a total bust.”
“It actually wasn’t. I promise that this was exactly what we needed to get things moving. Give her some time to absorb all of this and then in a few days, try again.”
What if she kept telling me to take a hike? At what point did I go from loving husband trying to make amends, to creepy dude who couldn’t take no for an answer?
“I don’t know how you write about this stuff, pixie. It’s killing me.” And I didn’t know how much more I could take.
20
Carrie, six weeks earlier
Before I could break up with Wes something strange happened.
I got sick.
I never got sick.
Okay, not never, but rarely. So rarely I didn’t believe the signs when I saw them. First, I overslept. Then I was freezing cold as I got dressed. By the time I pulled into work I was shivering.
I didn’t even get out of the car. I dialed Gloria.
“What’s up boss?”
“I’m sick.”
“Oh . . . I can hear it. Get back in bed. I’ll move all your appointments. Three days you think?”
Ugh. Down for three days? Really? “Make it four just to be sure.”
“Let me know how you’re doing tomorrow. We’ll adjust from there.”
“Sounds good.”
I turned my car around and went straight home. After three hours of suffering alone I called June.
“I’m sick.”
“I can hear that. What do you need?”
“Can you drop some soup and crackers off on my doorstep. I won’t ask you to come in. No one needs to catch this.”
“Absolutely. Anything else? Are you a ginger ale or Sprite person?”
She was the best friend ever. “Ginger ale.”
“Hold tight. I’m heading to the store now.”
“Thank you, June.”
I forced myself into a steaming hot shower and bathed thoroughly from head-to-toe, hoping that it was helping kill at least some of the germs. By the time I was snuggled back up in my favorite fuzzy pajamas June was calling me back.
“Two bags are outside your door, sweetie.”
I sniffled. “Thank you. You’re the best.” My condo suddenly felt huge as I made my way to the door, phone pressed to my ear.
“How are you holding up?”
“I feel like crap but I’m doing okay. I’ll probably eat this soup and pass out for the rest of the day.” Sleep. I was so tired.
“Need anything else? I can drop something else by after work.”
The only thing better would be a head scratcher and I was pretty sure no one would sign up for that job. “I kind of miss that stupid cat.” He’d cuddle me without a care. I’d grown strangely fond of Wes’s sidekick.
“Snickers? Wow.”
“I know, I know. I’m not a cat person, but that cat is pretty cool. And snuggly.”
I plunked the bags down on the counter and unpacked the soup. While it heated I poured a fizzy glass of ginger ale.
“Get some rest and let me or Zoe know if you need anything else, okay?”
“You got it boss.”
Approximately two minutes after I finished my soup, I passed out.
KNOCK, knock, knock.
What was that awful noise? I opened one eye and glanced at my phone. Seven? In the morning?
I’d slept all night. And I still felt like junk.
Knock, knock, knock.
And I had three text messages. The first was from June asking how I was doing. The other two were from Wes:
I heard you were sick.
How are you doing???
And then:
I’m here. Let me in.
So that explained the knocking.
ME: Stop knocking. I’m coming.
I rolled out of bed and forced myself to stand. Standing is hard when you don’t feel well and you’ve been asleep for well over twelve hours, but I eventually made my way to the door.
“I was asleep.” I turned and walked away from the open door without even saying hello.
I was too tired for hello.
“I came as soon as we landed. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He closed my door.
Because I’m breaking up with you as soon as I can muster the energy to tell you to take a hike. “I knew you were out of town and besides, I’ve been a little too busy sleeping.”
Suddenly I was in his arms as he carried me back to bed.
“Stop! You’ll get my germs on you.”
“I don’t care.” He gently laid me on my bed exactly where there was still a Carrie-sized imprint in the sheets. “I’m here to help.”
“I don’t need help. I need sleep.” I slid back under the sheet and he snuggled the blankets around me, then rounded the bed, kicking off his shoes before he ambled up beside me.
“Then I’ll keep you company while you sleep.” And then there was a purring bundle of fur on my leg, kneading me through the blanket. “So will Snickers.”
“Hey buddy.” I gave the fur ball a little scratch. “Thanks for coming.”
He rewarded me by curling up and going to sleep.
“June said you wished Snickers was here so I ran home from the airport, grabbed a change of clothes and Snickers, then headed here.”
I didn’t care what the rest of the details were. I was just happy to have his furry little body snuggled up with mine.
“Thanks Wes.” And then I drifted back into oblivion.
I WOKE UP IN PAIN. A lot of horrible pain. I’d reached the really sucky part of the fever where nothing helps and it feels like your bones are crumbling in on themselves.
“Are you okay?” Wes’s voice came out of the dark but I could feel his naked body beneath my hand.
