If Law ever found out, he’d know everything, and then I’d be in a boatload of trouble. If all that comes out of this is that Law becomes that man I miss and becomes a good father to our child, then I’ll be satisfied. Not happy since I kinda figure he won’t want me after everything, but I’ll be satisfied with that at least.
It beats the alternative, which is not having Law in Cody’s life at all.
“If he finds out—”
“If I find out what?”
I almost scream when Law comes strolling in, his hands buried in his pants pockets, his face smoothed into that damnable suave expression. Leo, the idiot, just smirks at me and turns to glare at Law.
“Nico just agreed to have dinner with me tonight before we all have to show up on your doorstep tomorrow. It’s her way of making shit up to me.”
His expression never changes, but I know Law…inside he’s seething. (Yeah, I see that jaw tic.) Leo doesn’t help any when he ambles over and plants a peck on my lips.
“Be ready by seven, babe.”
“She’s working late.”
Leo just grins at those snarled words and throws me a wink over Law’s shoulder as he makes for the door.
“She needs to eat. Be ready, beautiful. We’re going to O’Grady’s. Remember the ribs? Still the best in the state.”
I just barely stop myself from laughing when he strolls out, leaving me alone with Law and his grinding teeth.
“You’re not going out with him.”
Oh no! Really?
“Uh, yeah, I so totally am,” I respond, tossing my water in favor for a cup of coffee, anything strong enough to get my mind off his douche-baggery.
Law follows and perches himself on my desk, as I get seated and pull a folder closer, needing to do something with my hands so I don’t slap his face silly.
“Nic, be reasonable, the man is a hound dog.”
The statement is so…
“Stop laughing, dammit!”
It’s then that I realize that instead of laughing in my head, I’m putting on a show with a full belly laugh, with streaming eyes and cramping muscles.
It takes a few seconds, but I eventually manage to calm down and wipe my eyes with only a few hiccups.
“Hello pot. Don’t blacken that kettle too much, buddy. Your record is just as besmirched. And Leo isn’t into me that way,” I say, crossing my fingers behind my back.
Leo is hot, has a great personality, and even makes me laugh. If the world were a fair and tolerable place, I would so go for a guy like Leo. We’ve been friends for years, and it wouldn’t take much from me to change the status quo to something a little more personal.
Buuuuut, I’m still way too hung up on Law to even consider letting another man into my bed. If I can go ten years without hitting it, I’m pretty sure that it’s an indication that I’m a one-man woman, and unfortunately for me, that asshole seems to be Lawson James.
“He’d have to be blind or dead not to be into you that way, babe, so let’s not start talking shit,” Law grumbles, picking at the odds and ends decorating my desk.
I snort and keep pretending to read, though I’m acutely aware of every breath he’s taking.
“No photos.”
“Huh?”
“You don’t have any photos of your husband or kid in here. It’s weird.”
I hum non-committedly and pretend to be engrossed. What can I say? Oh, by the way I removed all my family photos the moment I knew you were coming back because I didn’t want you to see my dead husband…who used to be your friend and was very homosexual, and the photos of Cody would have been a flat-out confession the minute you saw his smiling face.
“Please do not go out with Leo. He’ll try to get in your pants.”
“Uh, let’s get one thing straight here. Leo and I are friends. If I want to go out and have dinner with him, I will. There’s nothing else to it. Oh and by the way, you better be ready for that goddamned barbecue tomorrow, or I’m calling your mom.”
Chapter Eighteen
Law
I’m in hell, and the worst part is that I fucking love it. Everywhere I turn I see someone from my past, someone who was a friend, a confidante, family.
I’ve missed all these guys so much over the years, the ache of it going so deep that it had been three years of self-banishment before I’d been able to watch a hockey game without tearing up like a freaking baby.
And here they all are.
Leo off to the side, hitting on Mosley’s sister. (Horny son of a bitch.) Mosley running around after his one-year-old son while his wife stood off to the side laughing.
Connors and his girlfriend, Bronwyn I think her name is, off to my side while I man the grill and pretend to know what the hell I’m doing.
The place is full of people I once loved, and I hate it as much as I love it.
“Yo man, you look like you’re chewing nails over here. Move over while I get this meat cooked before we all have to go home hungry,” Pollock says and grunts, giving me a shove.
“Asshole.”
“Fool,” he counters, wielding the tongs like a pro.
The man is a first line defender and built like a brick shit house. Manning the grill while wearing my mom’s pink apron should have made him look like a girl, instead the bastard looked manlier—if that was even possible.
Asshole.
“So what you moping about over here, pretty boy?” Mosley asks, his light brown skin making his white teeth stand out in stark contrast.
I hate that the guy looks this good—even at his age—while I’m stuck in a suit, pushing paper and aging by the day.
“Nothing. I’m not moping, you dick. Turn that burger before it burns,” I growl, taking another long pull of my beer.
The sounds of laughter and children’s squeals echo around us, and I feel a twinge of longing and loneliness all at once. Nic and Cody should be here with me, my family, but instead I’m standing alone because I was too much of a dick to say the right thing.
I’m a coward and an idiot, and so many other things I can’t even begin to think about it while in public lest I make an ass of myself. But as the families and friends around me laugh and talk, I feel that ache deeper than anything I’ve ever known, and I know that my life will never be complete without her.
“She was a real mess when you left,” Mosley finally says after long minutes of silent introspection.
I don’t pretend not to know whom he’s talking about and regard him silently, feeling worse than ever.
“I was an asshole.”
Mosley shakes his head and claps a hand to my shoulder, squeezing hard.
“You were drunk and angry about the rough deal you got, and you took it out on the wrong person.”
“That’s no excuse, man. I treated her worse than a dog, and I humiliated her. Jesus, the things I said at that party were terrible. When I finally sobered up, I was so ashamed I couldn’t face a living soul.”
“So you ran.”
Yeah, and a lot of good that did me. I should have known that skipping out wouldn’t solve the problems I had, and that Nic had never been one of them. No, my problems were all in my head and on me, and I’d been a fool thinking I could outrun them.
It took a long time and a lot of distraction before I could bring myself to feel anything other than shame, but eventually the numbness of booze, women, and sometimes thrill seeking had done its job.
I’d turned myself into the person I thought could help me escape myself, and I’d reveled in every minute. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoyed it all. The freedom to do what I wanted at any given time was intoxicating, and I’d milked it for all it was worth.
I’d done it all and loved it. Cave diving, rock climbing, you name the extreme sport, I did them all, always chasing that next thrill. Odds are that if dad hadn’t called and convinced me to come home, I would still be out there chasing more.
I’m a dick and a self-proclaimed asshole, and I admit it. Most days I wear it
with pride, but the one thing I will never be able to excuse or explain away is what I did to the girl I loved.
Do I love Nic now? I can’t honestly say. That ship sailed ten years ago, and what I felt as that young man is gone and done, but I can tell you that I have never felt anything near as close for another woman as I felt for her.
And God, I want her. I crave her with every drop of blood and bone in my body. I want to own her, possess her, rule her, and take everything she has to give.
Do I have anything much to offer her? Not really, since I’ve long since accepted that I’m broken in a fundamental way that has nothing to do with her or my parents or anything else but me and my own twisted psyche.
“I ran,” I eventually answer, giving Mosley a rueful smile. “And I enjoyed every minute of that sprint, brother. I ran with the bulls in Spain and skied some of the best snow in Europe. I did everything you can ever imagine a guy doing, and I fucked my way through half the continent without one shred of guilt. I lived more life than I thought possible for a guy like me.”
Mosley starts removing the meat from the grill and shoving a platter piled high on the table, his brisk movements telling me all I need to know. The guys aren’t at all impressed by the high life I lived.
“And now I want something that I don’t think I can have. No scratch that, I want something I know I shouldn’t but will take because I’m a selfish bastard who won’t take no for an answer,” I say with a growl, thinking of Nic and her date with Leo last night.
Mosley laughs, his chuckle more of a boom coming from that six four block of muscle.
“Nic ain’t no push over, pretty boy. That woman’s been running your daddy’s company for so long I swear she’s got all the competition by the balls and drooling after her fine ass. Do me a favor. Be good to her, or let her the fuck alone. I like you, man, but I will put your ass in the ground for that girl, and you know I ain’t joking.”
“I hear ya, man. Believe me, I’m not playing games. She’s mine, and I intend to get her,” I say, following him to the table, as the others start shuffling forward and grabbing seats.
By the time we’re all situated and our plates are filled, I feel at peace and calm. I like this shit. It not Monte Carlo or the French Riviera, but for some reason that I can’t define it’s more. I like it. The only thing missing is Nic, my future kid, and maybe a baby bump if I can do something about her birth control.
Is she on a contraception?
That reminds me of the still as yet unopened envelope sitting in my desk, the one I’d had Cris put together but never bothered to look at since I had my girl and thought I’d be keeping her.
“So anyone wanna tell me why we’re even talking to this prick?” Pollock grumbles, getting everyone’s attention when his booming voice echoes across the table. “You wouldn’t even answer your phone when I called.”
I have the inclination to be embarrassed before I remember that I don’t give a shit on a good day. Levelling my patented stare at him, the one that says “Hey, I could give a rat’s ass” I shrug and throw him a smirk.
“Sorry to break it to you princess, but some of us have real jobs. I don’t get to fuck around on the ice all day. I actually have to use my brain. Next time you call I’ll remember to answer so I don’t hurt your girly sensibilities.”
The women all laugh while Pollock grins and points at me with the piece of barbecued rib hanging from his fingers. “Screw you, James.”
“No thank you, Polly. I like my girls with much less hair and a whole lot prettier than you, cupcake.”
The back and forth insults keep the table laughing and in a good mood that is easier to handle now that the ice is broken, and I feel like less of a douche.
“So you coming next weekend?” Pollock asks when the women start clearing the table, leaving us to finish of our beers and relax.
“Next weekend?” I ask.
“Yeah, we all get together at the rink every third weekend of the month and play a friendly game against each other. The women get babysitters for the kids and hole up in one of the boxes. You should bring-oomph! Hey, Leo man, that was almost my balls dude!”
Leo grins and turns back to the table, his eyes sparking at me.
“You should bring a date along. I already asked Nico to come as my date. You wouldn’t want to be the odd man out, pretty boy.”
It took a lot, but somehow I manage not to lunge across the table and show him that I’m not a pretty boy, and that I was captain of our college team for a reason.
Instead I give him a smile, the same shark smile I used to reserve for opponents, letting him know that I’m ready and well-armed for whatever game he’s playing with me.
Everyone at this table knows that Nic is mine. Always has been and always will be. I love Leo, but I will not hesitate to break his legs. And arms.
“Bring it on, motherfucker.”
Chapter Nineteen
Nico
I’m nervous as hell about this hockey game after Leo told me about the barbecue. I know Law, old or new, and the guy does not respond well to competition.
To be honest, it makes me antsy just thinking of that cold, ruthless glint that I know he got when Leo goaded him in front of everyone.
Damn Leo. The man is hell bent on unseating Law from his pedestal, and if I wasn’t so desperate to get my plans moving along, I would have kicked him in the sack and demanded he stop making my life so difficult.
As it is, it’s only Wednesday, and Law has had me working such late hours, right by his side that I haven’t had time to do anything but fall into bed for a few measly hours before starting a new day.
It’s not lack of sleep that’s getting to me; it’s the fact that I know his game. The less time I have, the more fatigued I am, the less likely it will be that I’ll go out with Leo again.
The jealousy makes me giddy with laughter, but it’s killing me to be this close to him for such long periods without jumping his bones and riding myself to fulfilment. Seems once I woke the sleeping dragon that is my sex drive, the idiot took it to mean that she could have him at all times.
Just yesterday I’d been in a meeting, and it had been all I could do to focus and not stay fixated on the memory of Law and his mouth. And what I desperately want that mouth of his to do.
I want him so badly that I kind of think I’ve built the sex up in my head. Don’t misunderstand me, Law is an animal in the sack, but I’ve made it into this shining dream that plagues me constantly.
I want him, and I can have him. I know I can, if I’m willing to settle for this him. I’m not, so I guess I need to keep Lusty Lucy on a leash a little longer or I’m in deep shit.
“Hey, Nic. We need to stay late tonight to go over those Anderson reports. They want the new marketing campaign to kick off, but Phil says he’s not satisfied with what the marketing department has come up with,” Law says easily, strolling into my office and making himself comfortable at the seating area.
I take a few precious seconds to observe him, as he reads the file in his hands, and I feel my resolve slip another inch. God have mercy, the man is all kinds of hot and I want, want, want him so bad I’m walking around in a constant state of simmering arousal.
My panties have been wet all week, all day long, and it’s definitely not helping that he’s decided to spend three quarters of his day in my office, sprawled across the sofa like some high-powered tycoon sex god.
I want to walk over, rip his clothes off, and lick him all over like a human Popsicle. When he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and his tongue peeks out, I swear I feel it shoot straight between my legs where I’m already prepared and more than willing to give him a show.
“Nic?”
I come out of my sex trance and realize I’m staring and practically panting while he’s been trying to get my attention for I don’t know how long.
My cheeks stain with a fiery blush, and I swallow, not daring to meet his eyes.
“Hhmm?”
&n
bsp; Be nonchalant, I tell myself, trying desperately to calm my breathing from the open mouthed pant that makes me feel like a dog, a very female one...in heat.
I succeed, but barely, and wait for him to answer. When he doesn’t, I force my eyes up to see him staring at me lazily, his blue eyes shooting sparks my way.
Our eyes hold for an eternity before he breaks away and runs them over me, stopping at my breasts. His lip sucks back in, and I moan beneath my breath at the thought of those lips closing around my nipples.
The picture in my head is so intense that for a second I actually feel his mouth and the rough suckling he seems to enjoy so much. God! Why can’t he just do what I want so I can tell him everything? The waiting is killing me, and the longer this goes on, the more nervous I get. Time is not on my side—and I know it.
“I want you so bad, babe,” he says with a growl, his body tenses and coils to strike. “I’ve been working us both half to death just so I can fall into bed without thinking of you constantly. But then I dream of you, and I wake up with my dick so hard it hurts.”
I swallow, throttling the words about to tumble out of my mouth. I want to say yes and tell him that I feel the same, that I fall into bed in an exhausted heap but wake in the early hours a sweaty, aroused mess, feeling cold and aching with loneliness.
I miss our time on the liner when he’d wrap himself around me and cradle me with his heat, lulling me to sleep with his breath and muttered endearments.
“The worst part of it all is that I know you want me just as bad. Tell me you want me just as bad, Nic. I need to hear the words.”
I want to say them so badly that my tongue aches with the lie that tumbles out of my lips.
“No. I don’t want you,” I whisper, watching him flinch and rear back in shock.
I want to qualify and tell him that I want the him that I know he’s hiding, the good guy who loved his friends and wouldn’t have left his girlfriend sitting outside his apartment in the dead of winter.
Before a word can leave my lips, he’s across the room and pulling me up and into his body, his eyes hard, nostrils flared in what I can only say is fury, and a whole lot of hurt.
CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 75
