Under Contract (The GEG Series)

by Jacquelyn Ayres

“Wait, Mitch, this isn’t—”

  “How long?” I yell and pull my tank top on over my head.

  “Wait, it’s not what you—”

  “How long?” I ask again through clenched teeth.

  “He’s been one of my best friends since we were kids!” She jumps up and races to me. “Mitch, please listen!” She palms my face. I rip her hands off and push her away.

  I feel nothing but raw anger crushing my chest. My heart is aching. How could she do this to me? To us? Us? I’m fucking delusional! There was no “us”!

  “Mitch,” she cries, “can you pass me my phone and that towel over there?” I look down at her. She’s on the floor holding her right arm up. Blood pours down it. Shit! I forget my anger and race the towel over to her. “Phone, please,” she says through her tears. I pick it up and hand it to her.

  “You’re going to need stitches,” I say, wrapping the towel around her forearm. I reach down and pick up the frame she cut herself on when she fell. When I pushed her. I didn’t even hear her crash into this table with the framed pictures—I was so mad. I turn the frame over. It’s us. Us. CiCi took this picture in the backyard. I pick up the other frames. The kids, and two more of ... us. Us. I’m so confused.

  “I want to show you something, since you won’t listen.” She holds her phone out to me. “This is Jay and his boyfriend, Victor.”

  I take the phone and look at the picture of Jay kissing Victor. I swipe to view the next picture. One photo after another of a gay couple very much in love. I look up at Charlotte.

  “What you read is part of an inside joke I have with Jay. He’s the one that bought me these PJs. We have this opposites game—well, that’s what we call it. I ... forget it. I just wanted you to know.” Her chin quivers. “You can go now. I’ll call CiCi to take me for stitches.”

  “Baby ... I’ll take you.” I don’t even try to hide the ache in my voice.

  Charlotte slowly shakes her head while looking down. When her gaze finally moves back up to me, I see tears streaming down her face. “I think you’ve done enough to me, Mitch.”

  And there it is again—the crushing in my chest. I came home to fix us, but have managed to permanently destroy us instead. “Please, baby ... I don’t want to lose you.” My voice cracks. I bring a shaky hand up to her cheek to wipe her tears away, but she jerks her head back. I’m trying everything I can to hold it together here, fighting back the stinging in my eyes of my own impending tears.

  “I don’t want to lose me either, Mitch. Please go.” Her eyes plead with me.

  “I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right,” I say, but she ignores me as she brings her cell to her ear.

  “Ceese, I need you to drive me to the hospital. I fell and sliced my arm on the glass frame I broke.” She doesn’t even mention me—the reason she fell.

  I get up, grab the rest of my things, and leave. I’m pretty sure leaving is the wrong thing for me to do. I’m also pretty sure I don’t know what the right thing is.

  One hour.

  I’ve been sitting in my car, staring at my white knuckles fisting the wheel.

  I’m a coward.

  When did I become such a fucking coward?

  When I had someone to fight for, not something.

  Fucking coward.

  And—where the fuck is CiCi?

  I wasn’t bad at this the first time around. I was actually pretty good at it. Then again, I was young and naive. I thought Kelly and I had our whole lives ahead of us. I know better now.

  God, I never thought I’d feel this way again. I was so sure Kelly was it for me. Until Charlotte walked into my life, I’d never been so unsure about being so sure—again. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her. So, I handle it by pushing her away. The irony chokes me and tonight’s episode has me gasping for what feels like my final breath.

  I’m a coward.

  I’m scared, so I run.

  She’s right.

  I’m just like him.

  I know what it feels like to be abandoned. Kelly abandoned me—not her intention, of course, and it certainly was not her fault. Still, I can’t help but find my grief travel down this road every so often. She left me. It’s a God-awful pain. I can’t imagine how much more intense it is for Charlotte, now that this has happened to her twice.

  How could I do that to her? I just dropped her like she was nothing. It killed me to do so. I know why I did it, but ... she didn’t.

  Hours.

  Phone calls. Texts. Skype.

  Days. Weeks.

  Investing in us, our hearts.

  Her mind—it intrigues me.

  Her laugh—it centers me.

  Her heart—it swallows me.

  Her voice—it calms me.

  Her smell—it intoxicates me.

  I abandoned her.

  I got scared—am scared.

  Because I love her.

  I am a coward.

  “Shit!” I hit the wheel. “Find your fucking balls, Mitch, and reattach them!”

  With a new sense of purpose, I get out of my car and head back inside. Fuck—what if she’s passed out from blood loss? I close the door quietly and release a sigh of relief when I hear her on the phone.

  “No, Jay, I didn’t laugh, because once again, you’ve proven that you have the worst timing!” I hear her snap. “Mitch was here. He was holding my phone so he could show me his earlier text about fixing everything between us. Christ, he flew here from Germany to work things out with me!” she yells. “And then you and your perfect-timing skills send the mother of all obscene fucking texts to me!” She pauses. “No, I don’t feel better that you threw up in your mouth texting that shit! He went ballistic! Could you blame him? He wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise! That is, until he pushed me away and I fell. Sliced my fucking arm up.” She pauses again. “No. Actually, I fucking tripped over my sneaker. That’s why I fell, but he didn’t see or hear me. He was so mad.” Pause. “No. He was mortified that I got hurt. He thinks he caused it. I didn’t even correct him because I was focused on explaining how you and I are, and that you’re gay. No. He left. I told him to. Jay,” she sighs, “he’s got me on this crazy roller coaster. I can’t keep up. I need to slow down.” Pause. “No. I haven’t told him about the baby.”

  The loud pounding in my ears drowns out anything else she says. I think it may have something to do with my racing heart. The baby? A baby? My baby?

  My baby.

  My Charlotte.

  My future.

  I pull my phone out and text her.

  Please get off the phone.

  “Hold on, Jay,” she says, and pulls the phone away from her ear. “Um ... I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay. Love you, too.” She hangs up.

  “Charlotte,” I say as I walk into the kitchen. She turns quickly. Within seconds, I’m practically nose to nose with her. “A baby?” I ask her in a whisper, with my hand already under her shirt and my fingers splayed across her belly. She gets that panicked look on her face again. I touch her face. “I won’t run. God, baby, I promise. My feet are cemented to this floor.” I try to reassure her, confident that this is the cause of her panic.

  I’m such an asshole.

  For three weeks, she begged me to talk about this. We would’ve had she not been drunk that night. Wait!

  “Charlotte, you got drunk knowing you were having my baby?” I can’t help the spark of anger in my tone. She gives me a look of confusion, then it appears that a lightbulb flickers on.

  “You think I’m having your baby?”

  “I just overheard you, Charlotte.” Is she going to try and lie about it?

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re not having my baby?” My stomach twists in knots.

  “No.”

  “Whose baby are you having?” I ask vehemently.

  “I’m not pregnant, you asshole!” she spits out at me. “God, Mitch,” she says in a sob, “that’s twice in one day! I can understand why you thought that earlier,
but—”

  I don’t let her finish her sentence. I just attack her mouth with mine. She fights me at first, but I relentlessly lick into her mouth with a hunger so fierce, it makes me moan at the taste of her.

  Backing her up to the counter, I kiss her harder. I’m so starved for her—I can’t get enough. I reach down and yank at her bottoms. She tries to pull away, but I kiss her harder and she whimpers in delicious defeat. Her efforts start to match mine. Bringing my hands to the back of her upper thighs, I hoist her up onto the counter.

  “Mitch, no.” She wiggles, trying to get down. I crouch and wrap my arms around her legs so my hands come up between them. In one swift move, I grab her wrists, spread her wide, and yank her so her ass is at the edge.

  “I’m gonna make you come hard all over my face, baby,” I say in that voice I know drives her wild.

  “Mitch!” she gasps.

  “It’s nighttime, baby ... you know, freaks and all.” I smile mischievously before I lower my face and slowly run my nose up her center. I inhale and release a groan that I swear came all the way up from my toes.

  Taking my time, I taste the skin adjacent to her groin on both sides. She shivers and I run my tongue along her lips—her plump, sweet lips. She whimpers and wiggles. I lick up her center and listen to her gasp. I raise my face. “Baby, do you like feeling my mouth on your pussy?”

  “Ye ... yes,” she stammers.

  “Do you want more?” I return to her warm center, inhaling her again.

  “Yes.” Her voice trembles with desire.

  “I want to feel Kitty purr against my mouth, baby.” I lick again. She moans. “I’m going to release your hands. Don’t push me away.” I bring my face up to hers and nudge her nose with mine. “Okay?”

  “Yes,” she pants.

  I smile and grasp her lips as I release her wrists. She leans back on one hand and brings the other up to palm my cheek. She stares into my soul. Her jade eyes are almost olive, darkened by desire. I rub my lips against hers, enticing them to part.

  “Mitch.”

  “Baby, don’t.” I shake my head slightly. “I need you. You need me.” When I beckon this time, her lips open for me. Her hand slips back to my neck. She fists my hair and kisses me hard, knocking the breath out of my chest.

  She rips her mouth from mine and brings it to my ear. “I want your tongue in my pussy, Mitch, licking it the way you’re licking the inside of my mouth. I want to ride that hot, strong tongue of yours.” She bites my lobe and my cock twitches so hard, my balls ache from it.

  “Fuck,” I grunt.

  “I want that too, baby ... please.” She licks the shell of my ear.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I groan and move my head down to where she wants me. At the sight of her glistening pussy, Morale painfully stretches the material of my pants. I press my thumb against her clit and watch her hips rise off the counter, begging for more.

  “Mitch ... baby, please!” she begs as she gyrates her pelvis. I slide my tongue slowly up her center again, then lift my thumb and replace its pressure with my teeth. She yelps. I bite. I tease. I blow. I savor. I slip two fingers into her, my pace cautious to avoid detonating the bomb that is about to go off. It will explode only when I want it to. When I say.

  “Mitch ... now, goddamn it!” She pulls at my hair. Or ... when she says. I’m all about equality.

  I massage the wall of her sweet, tight ... mmm ... there it is.

  Toes curl.

  Mouth opens to a perfect “O.”

  And she gives it to me.

  She looks me square in the eye and gives me her orgasm. Fuck!

  Once she finishes her last quake, I slowly pull my fingers from her warmth. Sliding them into my mouth, I suck her taste off.

  Charlotte pulls them from my mouth, grasps my lips, and proceeds to take the same two fingers into her mouth. She sucks them purposefully. I feel her tongue sliding between them, lapping up her taste. I am awestruck.

  “Fuck, baby, that’s hot,” I say, feeling breathless. “You been catching up on porn while I’ve been away?”

  She pulls them out of her mouth and gives me that sexy little smile I love so much.

  “Am I making you nervous, Mitch?” she teases.

  “No, baby. I don’t joke when I’m nervous. That’s your thing.” I palm her face and graze her cheeks with my thumbs.

  “What do you do when you’re nervous?”

  “Apparently ... I run.” I lower my eyes.

  “What did I do to make you nervous?”

  “Nothing. You didn’t do anything.” I gaze into her eyes. She gives me a look of confusion. “My feelings for you made me nervous.”

  “Made?”

  “Yes. Now, I’m more nervous about losing you.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I’ll never abandon you again.”

  She takes in a sharp breath.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mitch.” She pulls my hands from her face and pushes me away before hopping off the counter.

  “I can keep it, baby.” I use the tone that always gets to her as I slide my hands onto her hips. She turns away from me and starts spraying the counter down. “OCD much?” I chuckle near her ear.

  “I prep our food on this counter, Mitch. You think I’m gonna leave sex residue on it?” she asks, sounding aggravated as hell. Between spraying and wiping, she continually pushes my hands from her hips. It makes me laugh.

  “We didn’t have sex yet, baby,” I remind her as I grasp her again and shove myself against her.

  “We’re not going to, either!”

  “Oh, yes we are. Especially since you’re pissed. Pissed-off Charlotte equals off-the-charts-hot sex.” I push into her again.

  “Get off of me!” She bucks and yanks my hand away from her breast. I grab her wrists and wrap both of our arms around the front of her.

  “That’s it, baby. Keep fighting me. I know the harder you fight, the harder you want to be fucked.” I bite at her lobe.

  “You. Are. Hurting. My. Arm!” she yells. I release her but seize her arm to look at it.

  “Why didn’t you get stitches?” I gently strip off the stained bandage.

  “It doesn’t need it. I put a few butterfly stitches on the questionable areas, but it’s fine.” She inspects it with me.

  “I’m sorry I was such an asshole earlier.” I sigh and throw the bandage away.

  “Only earlier? Not the past three weeks, or just now?”

  “I’m sorry for all of it ... except just now. I wasn’t being an asshole just now.” I turn her and slap her ass. “Let’s get you upstairs for new bandages.”

  “Watch the slapping, Mr. Colton!” she warns, looking over her shoulder.

  “Yeah, don’t act like you don’t like it,” I say, calling bullshit.

  “Puhleeease!”

  “You admitted it to me, baby. You can’t take it back now.”

  “When?” She stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns.

  “One night on Skype. You had a few glasses of wine and spilled the beans, lady, like it was your job or you were in confessional.” I smile.

  “Shit. I thought I dreamt that.” She winces and turns to head up the stairs first. Of course, I let her go. I am a gentleman. It has nothing to do whatsoever with the fact that she is buck naked from the waist down.

  “Baby, go slow up the stairs. Really, really slow,” I say with concern. Of course, I’m mostly concerned with not being able to enjoy this view for long. The word “man” does come after “gentle,” does it not?

  “Why do I have to walk slowly for an arm injury?” She looks over her shoulder. “Oh, Mitch!” She whacks my shoulder. I growl and bite her ass. “Stop!” She laughs and tries to push me away, causing us both to lose our balance and fall on our sides, onto the stairs.

  “Oomph,” we say in unison.

  “Damn it, Mitch,” she complains.

  “Shit, baby, keep your arm up.” I raise it with my right hand—while my left lifts her shirt.
>
  “What are you doing?” she asks, then laughs when I take her nipple into my mouth.

  “Preventing blood loss.”

  “What?”

  “If I suck here, the blood will pool this way instead of your arm.” I bite. She gasps.

  “Dr. Colton, you should submit your barbaric findings to a medical journal. I’m sure you will receive great recognition for changing the field of medicine forever.”

  “You think?” I give her a goofy grin and kiss her.

  “I think you’re stupid.” She grabs my chin.

  “I like being stupid with you. It feels good. I haven’t felt like this in twenty years.” I Eskimo kiss her.

  “I’m supposed to be mad at you.” She pouts.

  “Yeah? How’s that working out for you?” I ask as I doodle circles on her belly with my fingers.

  “Not well. Gah ... Mitch.” Her voice shakes as my fingers trail down between her legs.

  “What, baby? I’m just touching what’s mine,” I say softly as I circle her opening. “Is this mine, Charlotte?” I slide one finger into her and back out, then swirl her wetness around. “Say it.”

  “Yes. It’s yours.” She closes her eyes, taking in the sensation.

  “Upstairs, baby.” I pull my hand away and grasp hers, yanking her up with me. We go up and to the left, into her master suite. “Now, bathroom,” I say quickly. I flick on the light and grab a new bandage for her arm. Charlotte works diligently at my pants. I rip the tape with my teeth. “Fuck,” I grunt as she wraps her hand around me.

  “You better concentrate, Dr. Colton.” Her seductive tone is absolutely fucking wicked.

  “What happened to my good-girl Charlotte?” I ask as I try to get the fucking bandage on her.

  “Oh, baby, I’m gonna be so good for you. You’ll never want to leave me again.” She bites down my neck, and my cock feels ready to explode in her hand. All I can concentrate on, though, is how my chest tightens at her words.

  “Charlotte! I didn’t leave you because of you!” I push away from her. She stares at me blankly, looking unsure. I quickly and silently finish with the bandage.

  I hold her arm up to my lips and lay a prolonged kiss over the now-covered injury. She leans down and her soft lips work their slow, agonizing way up my neck. I lower her arm and run my hand up to the back of her neck. She brings her face to mine. Our mouths barely touch. We breathe each other’s breaths.