“Knowing what, baby?” His hands slide onto my hips, causing a deep ache in my body. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m just reacting to a long dry spell. Or to having a long marriage with a man whose hands never felt this incredible on my body. A man who never made me feel the way Mitch makes me feel—in bed or out.
“Damn it, Mitch, why do your hands have to feel so good on me?” I lean my head back on his chest as said hands slide my short sundress up.
“Hmm, Charlotte,” he breathes against my ear, “why must you wear these cute little sundresses?” His hands slide under the band of my panties and palm my ass. “Jesus, I still want to spank you.” The gymnast in my stomach springs into her floor program, running into a roundoff and three front flips as I push my ass against his hands.
“You don’t have a Get Out of Jail Free card anymore.” I’m barely holding it together as his mouth travels down my neck.
“Make me a sandwich so I can earn it back.” He nips at the skin just below my lobe.
“Uh-uh, mister ... it’s not that easy.” I laugh, but my breath hitches when his hands slide up my back and reach around to the front.
“No bra again, Charlotte. No sweater. You let people—other men—see what’s mine.”
I gasp as he tugs harshly at my nipples and follow it up with a whimpery moan. Christ, I’m like putty in his hands.
“It was warm out. Nobody saw.” I turn my face and pull his mouth to mine. He tugs harder. “Oh, Mitch ... please.” I’m in sensory overload. Morale is at an all-time high and pushing against Kitty’s neighbor.
“Bow chicka wow wow!” CiCi pipes up. Mitch abruptly stops and jerks away from me. Fuck! “Charley ... you ever think about going into porn? That was hot! I can see it now—Charley Does CEOs! Should I get the camera?”
I scowl at her and glare daggers at her.
“Hi, Mitch, I’m CiCi. I’d shake your hand, but I’m offended by your pointing ... it’s rude.” She smirks. I look over at Mitch who suddenly matches her expression and stands up straighter. My eyes scan him to see what she’s talking about. Oh, good Lord!
“I only point when I see something I like.” He’s grinning now. “Are all the O’Brien girls as hot as you two?”
“Don’t get any ideas, dude.”
“A man can dream, can’t he?”
I stare at the two of them in disbelief while they continue their flirt fest! I glance down, somewhat confused as to how I’m actually feeling about this. I can see Mitch isn’t losing any momentum in the morale department.
“That’s all you’ll do is dream, baby!” She blows him a kiss. He catches it and places it on his heart. “Keep him around a while, he’ll do just fine with our lot.” She smiles at me, then proceeds to let Loxy and Vader in.
“CiCi ... when did you move in here?” I ask sarcastically.
“I like it here. Nobody likes me at my house,” she says, almost depressingly.
“Ceese ... you live by yourself!” I roll my eyes and Mitch chuckles.
“Yeah ... I’m a fucking bitch to deal with, so I come over here.” She holds her hands out and gives me the “duh” look.
“To get away from yourself?” I laugh. Christ—she’s an asshole!
“Yeah, and apparently for the live porn.” She gives in to the dogs’ licking. “Don’t let me stop you two. Go back over to the sink and back into position. Mitch, you were just about to tell Charley you were gonna ram it up her ass, just the way she likes it.”
“Good Lord!” I walk away.
“Is she on medication?” Mitch laughs lightly, following me.
“She would be if there any existed for her.” I look at the clock. Goodbye, nap!
“You gonna be around for a while, CiCi?” I call out to her.
“I live here, don’t I?” she calls back.
“No!” I answer.
“In that case, yeah, I’ll be around for a while.” She follows us into the living room.
“Will you grab Brooky when she wakes up? Mitch and I need a nap,” I say as I yawn
“Up all night, aye?” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“Yeah, I was ramming it up her ass all night. You know how she likes it, Ceese.” Mitch shakes his head with an exhausted look.
“I don’t care how you give it to her, Mitch, I’m just glad you do!” She smiles. I want to die.
“Just don’t ‘yes’ her to death like Josh did.” No ... now I want to die.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
Oh, Christ!
CiCi shakes her body to prepare for the performance. “Yes, Charley ... yes ... yes ... oh, yeah ... yeah ... yes ... yes.” She breaks. She’s only revving the engine a little. “Yes! Yes ... yes, Charley ... yes ... yeah ... yeah ... yeah, you like? ... Yeah ... yes! Yes! Yes! Take it, Charley, Yes! Yessss ... ugh ... yes, baby ... yeah?”
I’m laughing because nobody impersonates Josh and I having sex like CiCi. Of course, she only knows how to do this so well because after I nonchalantly told her about it, she made sure to eavesdrop one night. She’s a twisted bitch!
“Poor Charley. That was her sex life for ten years. Josh walked around like he gave it to her good, never once noticing that she just laid there doing nothing,” she says sadly.
“That’s not true, CiCi,” I roll my eyes again—it’s an affliction when I’m near her. “I did my grocery list, planned parties, all sorts of things. Once, I even filed my nails,” I say proudly.
“Are you guys joking? Baby, that’s how it was for you?” He touches my cheek, having finally calmed down from his laughing fit over CiCi’s impersonation.
“Yeah,” I say, suddenly feeling depressed by it all. “I’m heading up.”
“Okay, let’s go.” He smiles. CiCi pulls him back and, because I’m as bad as her, I eavesdrop.
“He was a worthless, shit-for-brains asshole! He never thought of her. She was his trophy wife. Please, Mitch, be good to her. She needs someone who sees how amazing she is.” My eyes fill up as I hear her choke on her words. Mitch says something, I think, but I can’t hear him. I head into my room to collect myself. Why did I stay with that asshole so long?
CiCi’s right. I was his trophy wife. Not sure why, though. I mean, I’m okay to look at, I just don’t think I’m trophy-wife material. Half the time my hair’s up in a messy bun and I’m wearing frumpy clothes, like I just got out of bed. Actually, Josh did complain about that. He always wanted me to dress “hot” whether it was for some sort of event or the town grocery store.
“This hot number is my wife.” That’s how he’d introduce me. Any reference to me after that was about how he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. Never once did I hear him talk about what I did, or what my interests were. It was the same thing at home. Everything was about him. Correction: Him and his law firm. He worked extra hard at making partner for eight years.
I love my children, but I don’t know why or how I ended up having three with him. His disinterest in them was so obvious. I kept telling myself it was work. All he did was hurt us by not caring. Never went to anything for the boys. I think in the end, me ... the kids ... we were all a part of his image. He would pull us down from the shelf and dust us off when the need arose. The perfect family. The perfect family man. The perfect partner.
He even used Bennett’s diagnosis to pull at their heartstrings. Asshole couldn’t even remember the name correctly or what the hell it meant. Never once had he gone to a therapy session or a meeting at school. Yet, miraculously, this kid was his “pride and joy” to his coworkers. Prick—never even learned one damn sign so he could talk to his kid!
Ugh. I should’ve left long ago! I should’ve known as soon as he got passed up for partner he would leave! I should’ve been the one who left—not him! That’s what burns the most.
“I don’t think I will ever want to leave this room.” Mitch sighs as he climbs in next to me and pulls me into a spooning position.
“Why’s that?” I wipe away a tear.
�
�It’s heavenly—bathed in my favorite scent.” He inhales deeply through his nose.
“What scent?”
“Charlotte. Mmm ... love the way you smell.” He sniffs me, making me giggle. Josh never sniffed me. I grab a tissue off the side table and blow my nose. “Baby? What’s the matter?” He rolls me in his direction. “Charlotte?” He thumbs a tear away.
“Sorry. I was reflecting.” That sounds better than admitting to my pity party for one.
“Did I do or say something to upset you?”
“No. My life before. My marriage.” I take in a deep breath and play with the stubble on his chin. “You wanted loyal, Mitch? Well, you hit the jackpot. I stayed with that self-absorbed, narcissistic, pompous ass for ten years. That idiot left me in the end.” I shake my tears away. Why am I even telling him this? I sound so pathetic.
“You have no idea how grateful I am that he was such a moron.” His voice is as soft as the index finger tracing my quivering lip. “I wish I wasn’t leaving tonight. I know I’m going to be gone for three months, but I’m asking you to please be patient with me and give me the chance to cherish you the way you should be cherished.”
I look away from his gaze. “Damn you and your ability to say all the right things.”
“Well, we both know that’s not true.” He kisses down my jawline. “When I’m mad, I say all the wrong things. When I’m not mad, I speak only the truth. When I’m near you, I say things that frighten the hell out of me.” He leans his forehead against my temple.
“What do you mean, Mitch?”
“Just be patient ... please.” He kisses my temple. Sure ... but he didn’t answer my question.
I told him I was a bullshit-free zone (that may have been a load of bull right there!). It would be a lie if I didn’t tell him how I’m feeling. “Mitch,” I close my eyes and try to gain my strength.
“What, baby?” Ohh—sexy voice!
“I need to tell you something. It may make you want to rip up our contract for good.” I swallow hard.
Mitch flies up onto his knees. “What is it?” Crap—he went straight to flaring nostrils.
“Not going to take this lying down, huh?” I try to lighten the mood.
“What is it, Charlotte? Tell me now!” He has to be the most temperamental man I’ve ever met. I actually like this, as much as I hate it about him. He’s got fight and drive ... with me ... love that! I sit up and look at him with yearning eyes. His eyes soften slightly at this.
“I may be developing a crush on you,” I finally admit in defeat and look down.
He grasps my face in his palms and yanks it back up. “You have a crush on me?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Well, that’s too bad, because like I said yesterday—I can’t fucking stand you!” And before I speak a word, his mouth slams hard on mine. Um ... so this answers ... nothing! But Jesus, can he kiss!
“Mitch ... Mitch, we can’t,” I whisper as he tugs at my panties.
“Why? The baby’s asleep.” He pulls my right strap down to uncover my breast and takes my nipple into his mouth. All I can think about is how hot his comment was ... so natural.
“She is, but CiCi isn’t, and she’s eavesdropping.” I smack my head. That cockblocker!
“No! She wouldn’t.” He looks at me in disbelief.
“Uh ... you have met her, right?” My eyes widen.
He looks at the door then back at me with a wicked grin on his face.
“No ... no, Charlotte ... no!” he yells. “No ... oh God no. No! No! No! No, baby!”
I cover my mouth and go into stitches.
“Milk!” I yell.
“No ... no milk!”
“Cookies!”
“No ... what kind?”
“Oreos!”
“No! No, not Oreos!”
“Nutter Butters ... you want nut butter?”
“Oh God no, nut butter! Oh no!” he bellows out.
“Very funny, assholes!” CiCi yells from the other side of the door, then kicks it. Brooklynn cries.
“Good luck with that, Aunt CiCi!” I yell, breaking from my laughter.
“Nut butter?” Mitch is holding his stomach, still laughing. He finally stops and rubs his face. “We’ll nap for two hours, and then I want to take you somewhere. What time do you have to be back for the boys?” He pulls his hands away from his face.
“Uh ... three-thirty. But we’d have to bring Brooklynn with us,” I say, unsure of how he’ll react.
“I know.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “Take your dress off, baby. I want your bare skin next to mine.”
I take it off as he sets my alarm, then spoon against him.
“Try not to give my ass a boost of Morale, please,” I mumble.
Mitch chuckles. “Is that an invitation?”
“No ... it’s a warning.”
“A warning?”
“Yes. Kitty’s not ready to share.”
“Go to sleep, baby, or you won’t be allowed to in a minute.” It’s almost a plea.
“Yes, sir.” I yawn and snuggle closer to him.
“Are you trying to crush me?” he asks playfully.
“I’m totally crushing on you, damn it!”
“Crush all you want, baby. I’m happy to take it from you ... only you.”
“Hmm ...” I sigh.
I’m not sure what stirs me out of sleep first—the alarm or Mitch’s caress. God, his hands feel incredible on my skin. His soothing touch glides up the back of my thigh ... over my bum ... my back ... my shoulder ... and down the length of my arm. His hand retraces its steps, and his lips lightly tickle various areas of my back. I’m in heaven ...
Heaven aside—I’m out-of-my-mind confused! I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before. I’m a fraud. He’s paying me to act out feelings I think—know—I’m naturally having for him. But am I? Is it the attention? I’ve had more from him in three days than I got in ten years from Josh. I mean real attention, like the kind a man in love shows his woman. Well—in the movies, at least. It’s an act, part of the deal. Stay focused, Charley ... don’t screw this up! I think about what he said to me before I signed the contract.
“Before you sign, I feel the need to remind you again that you will be at my beck and call. I also want to make it clear that it will never be more than this. I will never want more. I will never give more. I’m not trying to sound like a cocky or arrogant bastard, but if you find you feel something for me and want more—our contract will be through. I don’t do the marriage thing, I don’t do the kid thing, and I certainly won’t do the falling-in-love thing.”
And yet—I have kids. He’s taking my daughter and me somewhere. And I said I have a crush. He seemed happy about it. In fact, the only time he tried to run for the hills was when he didn’t think I took his intentions seriously. I left this morning, which angered him. He followed me rather than dismissing me. His behavior toward me last night and this morning—well, confused doesn’t seem like a big enough word to encapsulate confused!
“Baby,” he says, nipping at my shoulder, “how long are you going to pretend to be sleeping?”
“Figured me out already, huh?” I smile with my eyes closed.
“Hmm ... like I said before, I don’t know if I’ll ever figure you out.” He rolls me onto my back.
“I could easily say the same thing about you.” I gently touch his cheek.
“Well, you’re not alone. I can’t figure myself out right now, either. What kind of wonderfully evil spell have you cast over me, Charlotte O’Brien?” He plays with my lips.
“O’Brien?” I shoot him a quizzical look.
“I hate that you have that bastard’s name.” The look on his face matches the disgust in his voice. If I’ve learned anything about Mitch these past few days, it’s that he’s impetuously temperamental. Which gives me an idea ...
“Antipathy,” I say in my sexiest, most seductive voice before I lightly brush my lips across his.
His f
ace softens. “Damn you and your sexy, manipulative brain.” He nudges my lips back. “Say it again,” he pleads with a slight growl.
“Antipathy,” I whisper.
“That’s a great word. Definitely—not—used—enough,” he says between kisses. I try to squash the need to giggle, but fail when he asks me to repeat it. “You’re laughing at me, Ms. O’Brien?” He tickles my sides.
“Stop!” I gasp. He complies and smiles down at me. “How can you be so sexy and be such a nerd at the same time?” I laugh.
“You have a thing for sexy nerds, O’Brien?”
“Is that what you’re going to do now?” I ask.
“What?”
“Refer to me as O’Brien because you want to erase my marriage?”
“Yes. I would like it if you changed your name back. Actually, I want you to do that while I’m away. Have it switched before I’m home.” The tone in his delivery was fine. It’s the absurdity in his demand that has me pissed off once again.
“Not happening, Mitch.” I try to keep my cool.
“Why? Do you still love him?” he asks vehemently.
“No, Mitch.” I roll my eyes. Oh, how the fuck did we get to this place? “I have three children with this name—I’m not changing it.”
“Change theirs, too! When they’re old enough, they’re not going to want his name anyway. Trust me, I know. Besides, what are you going to do when you get remarried—still keep his name?” He rolls onto his back.
“Um, let’s see. First of all, I don’t think you can walk into Social Security and say, ‘Hi, I’m here to change my kids’ names because their father’s a douchebag.’ That may seem a little shady, Mitch, like I’m looking to leave the country with them! Second—what do you mean you know they won’t want his name? Third—if I got remarried, my new husband might want to adopt them and give them his name, which would take care of the first and second. However, the third will never happen because I am not getting married again.” I finally suck in some air—my lungs thank me greatly.
He turns onto his side to face me. “First—I’ll have my people look into it. Third—you will get married again, and not that I’ve met your kids or anything, but the fact that they’re your kids guarantees, in my eyes, that he’ll want to adopt them.” He pulls my hand to his mouth and plants several kisses on it.
Under Contract (The GEG Series) Page 10
