“God, you feel so good, Haylee. You’re so tight, so wet. I’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed this.”
She rubs her hands up and down my back, pulling at me until I’m even deeper inside her. “I’ve missed you too. There’s nothing that can compare to you, Ford Caldwell. I hate to admit it, but it’s true. I’ve dreamt about you fucking me so many nights, it’s embarrassing. I thought I’d never see you again, let alone have your massive cock split me wide open like this.”
As she says the naughty words, she glances down between us. Her hand follows her eyes, and she grips the only part of my shaft that isn’t buried. I moan and throw my head back, so close to my own release I see stars. But I’m not coming until I feel her sucking my cock dry with her second.
I reach under her prone body to grasp her round behind, pulling her cheeks apart so I can go even deeper. I press my middle finger against the tight ring of muscle at her backdoor, letting the moisture from her pussy ease the way as I push the tip inside. I want to possess her in every way possible. Claim her. Have her know that some part of me is in every single part of her that’s available. She’s mine. She needs to realize it and stop fighting against it.
Haylee explodes, wailing out a long moan as the orgasm hits her hard and fast. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from joining her, but I want to milk every last contraction from her body before I lose control. After the last quiver fades away, I let go, coming like I haven’t had sex since the day I walked away as a stupid nineteen-year-old kid.
We land on the comforter in a sweaty mass of limbs, the aftertaste of explosive orgasms still riding through our spent bodies. I kiss Haylee on the top of her head, drinking in the smell of her pleasure, the sensation of her soft hair against my lips. I never want to leave, even though I know I have to.
Please ask me to stay.
“I suppose you have to work early in the morning?” I ask, tucking her head in the crook of my arm and holding her close. I’m going to rock her against me and savor the sensation of being with her for as long as she’ll let me.
She sighs, the warmth of her breath humid on my skin. “I drew the short straw. I have to be there at six in the morning for the breakfast rush, I’m afraid.”
I kiss her hair, trying to think of a compromise. “I really want to sleep with you. Do you mind?”
“Sounds good.”
I wait until her breathing is steady, and I know she’s sound asleep in my arms before deciding it might be best for me to go and carefully slip from her bed. I watch her for a long time, unable to believe I’m here with her like this. I try not to the think of all the nights I missed.
In the early hours of the morning, I kiss her warm cheek and leave her room. On the way out, I wonder again why all the doors are closed, but I don’t open them. Maybe someday soon, I’ll get to see the rest of her home, be part of the rest of her life.
Chapter 15
Haylee
“I’m afraid we’re going to be shut down for good this time.”
My heart races and my palms moisten underneath the strength of my panic. Atlee’s been doing so well with this ongoing therapy for her Asperger’s. I can’t even imagine how I’ll handle her if she can’t attend her occupational therapy with John. I can’t afford private clinicians, and this is the only in-network therapy clinic in Vegas. I imagine myself driving into Arizona in my beat-up Honda in order to get Atlee the medical treatment she needs to stay highly functioning. I want her to go to regular school, have a regular life, and I worry that she won’t be able to without this therapy.
“That can’t be possible,” I say, sitting down and resisting the urge to put my head between my knees. I still can’t believe it’s happening as my world crumbles around me. First Ford returns, turning my life upside down, and now this is blowing it straight up again. Why can’t I ever catch a break like a normal person?
Atlee’s therapist nods his head, looking empathetic and angry at the same time. “Someone from the Nevada Health Commission came here and found some minor infraction. We didn’t even know that we had to adhere to it. Some obscure rule that all the other therapists that had worked in other states before coming to Nevada had never even heard of. They’re instituting a mandatory shut down under some law that was put into the books back in the fifties. Modern medicine has come into the next century, but the Nevada Health Commission has remained behind in the dark ages. We can stay open until the end of the month, then we’re closed until the investigation is complete. Atlee isn’t the only child with special needs who won’t be able to receive treatment if we stay closed permanently.”
John’s jaw clenches, his temple pulsing with frustration. I want to throw my arms around him and comfort him. I want to tell him that everything’s going to be okay. But it’s not, and he and I live in the real world where we’re not always guaranteed a happily ever after. Sometimes, people can’t catch their breath because challenges come at them like mosquitos in July. Sometimes, the little people get shit on over and over again until they’re so mired down in their own excrement they can’t ever pry their way out.
“That’s horrible,” I say, not knowing what else to add. I try in vain to calm the chaos in my mind, willing it to stand down. It doesn’t, and I’m reduced to a rioting, tumbling storm of thoughts about how my little girl’s life will never be the same.
Atlee laces her fingers through mine, becoming an unlikely lifeline in the midst of my emotional breakdown. I look down into her cherubic face, and I try to pull myself together. Kids should have to delve into adult issues. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m not doing a very good job of that. Atlee’s my priority. Always and forever.
“It’s okay, Mommy. John taught me how to do a lot of my exercises all by myself. I can do it until we find another clinic.”
She’s so brave and independent, my girl. But she shouldn’t have to do anything herself. She’s the innocent victim in this. After John’s tirade, I can’t help but wonder if someone didn’t contact the Nevada Health Commissioner with their sordid little tale of woe. This has sabotage written all over it. Only another patient or their caretaker would have the information about the law violation. Finding it would require research and connections. I wonder who has that much time on their hands.
“See you next week, John,” I say, tugging Atlee behind me. I want to be alone before I burst into tears. She shouldn’t see me cry, and the sooner I can get home and hide in the bathroom, the sooner I can release the waterworks that are threatening to overflow right now. I blink a few times for good measure, grab my sunglasses from my oversized bag and slap them over my eyes. Luckily, the sun’s shining brightly today.
Atlee keeps my spirits up with senseless chatter all the way to our little house. A ball has wandered into the driveway, and she jumps out to grab it and shoot it high into the air. “This must be Rachel’s ball,” she says, excited at the prospect of returning it to her friend. “Can I run over and see if she lost it? Maybe she’ll want to play with me before dinner.”
I grab a lawn chair from the garage, not overly excited at the prospect of watching two little girls play outside while the thermometer still hovers around the ninety-degree mark. But her face changes my mind, and I sink down into the crisscrossed nylon fabric, grabbing a bottle of water from my bag.
“Sure,” I answer. “Go on over to Rachel’s and see if she’s home.”
As I watch Atlee ring the doorbell, and then Rachel bound outside to play ball with my daughter, my cell phone buzzes with an unknown Vegas number. Thinking it might have something to do with the therapy situation, I hit the red button, hoping it isn’t Ford. The last thing I need is him thinking he can help make everything that’s wrong right again and finding out about his daughter in the process. If he finds out before I can pave the way for the information, he afraid he’ll fight me for custody and take her away from me just because he can. I’m not stupid enough to think that one night of passionate lovemaking has guaranteed us a future. Beside
s, I woke up to an empty house, and the bastard didn’t even leave a note.
Big fucking surprise.
“Haylee, my dear, how are you today?” Dante’s voice floats over the line, and I stiffen, sinking down further into the already worn seat of my aluminum lawn chair. What could he possibly want with me after our date went so wrong?
“Hi, Dante.”
I purse my lips and try and concentrate on the two beautiful little girls playing catch with their bright pink ball complete with glitter accents – not the tightening of my jaw muscles as I try not to scream at the man I’ve come to loathe. But I forget that I’m a woman with a problem, and he’s powerful and rich. Who knows, if I play this to my advantage, I might be able to coerce him into helping me with the therapy clinic. Surely, he has connections at the Nevada Board of Health?
“I’m so sorry about the way our date ended the other night, Haylee. Those Caldwell boys have been thorns in my side for as long as I can remember. The day their father died, they changed. Well, I guess I don’t have to explain that to you. Didn’t Ford leave you to go find himself and bury his grief on the streets of San Francisco? Such a waste. They were such delightful young men before the tragedy.”
He completes his monologue with a fake clucking of his tongue as if he cares about Ford’s dad and his tragic death. I know that he doesn’t. I’m starting to wonder if he cares about anything but the Mona Lisa and himself.
I lick my dry lips, willing myself to stay neutral. “You’re right. It was a huge loss for the family.”
“Indeed.
The platitudes in his tone hit me right in the gut, taking my emotions by the throat. My cheeks ache underneath the effort of pursing my lips tight to avoid an unladylike curse to explode from my mouth.
“I know this whole thing is hard for you, Haylee. Having to work over there at the Armónico and see Ford’s face day in and day out. And sometimes…” He drops off, letting the implications fall between us. Some warped curiosity within me has to see this conversation through to the bitter end.
“Sometimes what?”
“Sometimes I feel like maybe he pushed you into modeling for the Strict Necessaire app because he’s using emotional blackmail. Is he being aggressive in his methods, holding your job at the café over your head? You know, I can offer you a far more lucrative position over here at the Mona Lisa.”
“Really?” The word flies out before I have the chance to think about the implications of opening the door to Dante even a sliver. But I’m going to have to start paying for Atlee’s therapy out of pocket, and I know that even my job modeling for Taren won’t even come close to paying the hefty price tag. Anything short of selling drugs or my body on the street might be worth considering.
“Really. I have to wonder if your life isn’t harder with Ford in it.” The question tugs at something deep in my soul. I don’t like this man or the way he operates in the world, but he sees me in a way that Ford never did and probably never could. It’s as if he knows what I’m thinking even before I get a chance to articulate it. “Does it keep you up at night with worry about what might happen if he finds out about your daughter?”
I hiss in a breath and double over. The phone slips from my shaking hand, and I can hear Dante’s tinny, faraway voice floating up to me from the astroturf. After a few seconds, I pick it up and place it against my ear again. If this man thinks he’s going to use my daughter against me, he’s got another thing coming.
“He’s not going to find out,” I whisper. “Because you’re not going to tell him.”
He chuckles, the sound low and forbidding. “He’s a smart man, Haylee. I’m surprised he hasn’t figured it out already, and it’s only a matter of time. I suggest you tell him before he finds out in a less than pleasing way. But you’re right, I don’t plan on telling him. But I do think I can help you with your other little problem. Something about the Nevada Board of Health and your daughter’s in-network clinic? You know, if you worked for me, you wouldn’t have to use NevadaCare, and you’d have multiple options for covered therapy.”
My heart’s racing so hard that the beat throbs in my temples. I can feel the flush on my cheeks, and it’s not from the heat. “How do you know about the clinic?”
“I’m a rich and powerful man, my dear. When I take a woman out in public, I need to know who she is. I need to know she’s not a gold digger. Especially, if she comes from meager means. You wouldn’t believe how many women have come to my people, claiming pregnancy, demanding a payoff for their silence. I did a background check, of course.”
But I changed my name legally since it made me feel closer to my mom. How did he get around that?
“I’m not a gold digger.”
“I never said that you were. In fact, I never even thought it. If you were a gold digger, you would have used Ford Caldwell’s daughter against him to extort money from him. He’s a billionaire, for Christ’s sake. I know you’re not after money. But there’s something else you’re after and that’s what I can help with if only you’ll let me.”
The man’s a master manipulator. While it’s happening, I don’t even realize it. It’s not until I stop and think that I understand he’s sandwiching compliments between criticisms, all in an attempt to get me to do his bidding. The unfortunate part is that I’m between a rock and a hard place, and he knows it.
“I don’t understand how you can help.”
He clucks his tongue again as if I’m addled, and it rankles. But I need to know what happens next, so I keep my verbal tongue lashing to myself for now.
“I can call off the Nevada Board of Health in exchange for you being a little friendlier when we’re together. A couple of dates here and there, nights on the town. It’s good for my image to be seen with local working-class women. It softens my rough edges, and I could use that right now. I’m trying to acquire another strip property, and it will go to a vote soon amongst the members of the gaming commission.”
I already know exactly how friendly he wants me to be. Even worse, he’s only doing this as an act of revenge and malice toward Ford and his family. I don’t want to be a pawn in his twisted game. But as my eyes rake over my daughter’s fragile body, her arms high in the air to catch the pink ball, her hair streaming out behind her, I realize that her health and happiness is far more important than my foolish pride. It won’t be the first time I swallow it for Atlee’s sake, and it won’t be the last. Besides, Ford has proven time and again that I can’t count on him. Last night simply serving as another example.
Atlee turns and waves at me, her eyes sparkling with joy and light. Rachel throws the ball in a wide arc, and my daughter catches it in her hands, giggling the whole time. If it weren’t for therapy, she wouldn’t be talking in complete sentences right now, let alone playing with a girl her own age. I hiss in a breath, swallow, and wipe the images of myself naked underneath Dante Giovanetti before I puke.
“I could do that.”
Chapter 16
Ford
I know I have to make things right with Haylee after our lovemaking the other night. Our passionate encounter just made it clear to me that we belong together, and I’m going to figure out how to pave the way toward our future. I’m just not sure how. I’ve never been one for the grand, romantic gesture, and I feel that’s what’s needed here since we spent eight years apart. Troy sure as hell isn’t going to be game for an assist, and neither is Nixon. My only hope is Reagan. I suck it up and walk over to his office, grabbing a bottle of water to take along.
“What’s up, buttercup?” Reagan doesn’t even lift his head as I slide into the chair across from him.
“What are you working on, some damn torte or something?” I’ll never understand his lawyering. I can’t think of anything duller, and I’d rather stick my head in a vice and turn the crank than pour over legalese all damn day.
“I’m going over a deposition, if you must know. Why are you here, interrupting my flow?” Even though he’s asking a pissy question
, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he works the bright yellow highlighter over the page. I’m sure he’s happy to be interrupted so he can pull his head out of his own ass for a few seconds.
“Woman troubles.”
He chuckles and leans back in his chair, the leather creaking as the wheels shift a couple of inches. “Woman plus trouble equals heartache. That’s my advice.”
“Haylee’s not speaking to me.”
He laughs outright. “Who could blame her? You’re a douche bag. Just up and admit it. Then, once you’ve got her on the hook, send her a birthday cake.”
I cross my legs and grimace. “It’s not her birthday. Last time I checked, the calendar still said that November was months away.”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s her birthday or not. It’s the thought that counts and women love chocolate. It solves just about everything. Worked for me.”
“Fat lot of good you are,” I say, wishing I could beam myself back into my office and forget this conversation ever took place. “I should have asked Nix. At least he has a wife. I’m starting to doubt you’ll ever make it to the altar. How can Taryn stand your warped sense of humor?”
He leans back in his chair with that smarmy grin still plastered on his face. “Oh, she loves my sense of humor just about as much as she loves my body,” he says, giving me a wink.
“So you’re not getting any, huh?”
I live to torment Reagan. As the older brother by only a little over a year, he’s the nearest to me in age. We’re close, but I’m a little more conservative than he is in spite of his buttoned-up profession and I never really got his practical jokes. Especially since I was often on the butt end of them. Like the time he added baking soda to the ketchup bottle at Perkins, and my entire burger, fries, Coke, and every article of clothing I had on became a red explosion of condiment.
“I’m getting it fast and furious. Just like the movie. Regular sex is good for the constitution, Ford. Lock that shit down.”
Kickback (Caldwell Brothers Book 3) Page 10
