CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1)

by Kristina Weaver

  Everywhere I go I seem to be stumbling into a freaking twilight zone. Instead of being twenty dollars overdrawn on my account, I now have ten grand nestled in my savings, and it’s not even payday.

  “Miss Sharp, the numbers don’t lie. You don’t owe any back payments on your mortgage. There’s not much more I can say, other than you don’t have anything else to worry about for now. Make the new month’s payments, and you should be fine. As for that loan…your balance doesn’t say that you need it.”

  I walk out of the bank in the same fog of confusion I did after talking to the principal at Cody’s school.

  And then it hits me.

  That interfering rat bastard. That lowlife toad, that…completely thoughtful, kind, caring idiot! How the heck am I supposed to keep up this level of loathing when all I can think about is how grateful I am at this moment? I won’t lose my apartment; I won’t have to change Cody’s school, and I won’t have to worry about where our next meal is coming from.

  Especially since it seems that no one who’d headhunted me from other companies is interested anymore.

  I still have just under three weeks before Jack and Minnie bring my son home, so I have some time now to do what I need to do and get my life sorted.

  Starting with that damn hockey game on Saturday.

  Yeah, I’m going! You didn’t think I’d let something like the thought of seeing Law make me cower under the covers did you? I am made of sterner stuff and besides…I kind of need to see him, now that I suspect that he saved me from the poorhouse.

  I won’t mention it though—and not because I’m embarrassed. No, I could give a shit if he’s a few thousand down for bailing me out. The reason I won’t say a word is that I want to see what his next move is.

  Just the fact that Law cared enough to snoop in my business makes me feel that rekindled spark of hope I thought was dead.

  Buuuut, and this is a big but, I won’t allow him throwing money around to change my needs and views. If he’s still an asshole, then no amount of assistance is gonna help me.

  It’s getting cooler by the minute, as I hotfoot it through the crowded streets and make my way home. Winter in the city can be a pain. Some winter days start off warmer than expected, fooling you, and then suddenly the temperatures drop so drastically.

  I feel it through my lightweight coat and the sheer stockings I decided on this morning, and I almost run the rest of the way home, anticipating a hot cup of tea and a date with my laptop.

  When the elevator opens, I’m digging through my purse for my keys so I don’t see Law sitting against my door until I literally stumble over his feet and fall right onto him.

  “Ooomph!”

  “Ah, and she still swoons at my feet,” he murmurs, copping more than one feel as I try to scramble to my feet in a semblance of grace.

  Probably impossible, but hell, I give it a try anyway and stand glaring down at his smirking face.

  “What are you doing here, Lawson?” I bite out, feeling ill prepared for this sudden visit.

  He stands, showing every ounce of grace that I failed to portray and stares down at me, his jaw clenched at my rudeness.

  “You didn’t show up for work, babe.”

  “No shit,” I mutter, shoving the key into the lock and twisting it viciously.

  The sight of him so close on the heels of his bullshit last night still makes me madder than heck, so I drop every squishy feeling I could possibly have for the man. (Okay, except the fact that just the sight of him gets me hot, but give me a break, my libido has no brain to speak of.)

  When I go to slam the door in his face, he wedges a foot in and shoves it back quickly, causing me to scramble back or get my head knocked open.

  “What the hell! Go away, Law.”

  “Nope.”

  He strolls into my apartment, going straight for the kitchen, and I want to start panicking. I have a million photos on display—of not only me and Brody but Cody as well. Shit, the ones I brought home from the office are even now sitting on the mantle.

  “You want tea or coffee. Jesus, it’s freezing out, and I sat at your door for over an hour!” he yells from the kitchen.

  “Tea!”

  Okay.

  I dash into the living room and grab every frame, album, and drawing I own, shoving them into the bottom drawer of the desk in my bedroom. Once that is done I close all of the bedroom doors and start checking all surfaces again.

  When I see nothing incriminating, I fall onto the sofa and finally breathe through my wheezing lungs.

  “Here you go.”

  I accept the tea with a snarled thanks, and sit sipping silently as he peruses my apartment, his brows drawn when nothing personal stands out.

  Hah! Eat your heart out, Law. My life is none of your concern, and I want you to know it. I want you to know what it feels like not to have one little “in” anywhere, to feel alone and discarded, just as I feel.

  And it doesn’t escape me that he sat outside my door, in the freezing cold waiting for me. Karma’s a bitch, huh?

  “You need to come back to work, Nic.”

  “No.”

  “But.”

  “Nope. You made me feel like shit for the last time, Law. This is the reason I shut you out of my life in the first place. You change your mind and mood on a dime, and I won’t have that. For myself or Cody. Last night just proved to me that you can’t possibly give a shit about me if you won’t hesitate to humiliate me in front of not only a friend but a roomful of strangers.”

  I hear him sigh and mutter something under his breath before the sofa beside me dips and he’s crowding me into the corner.

  “I screwed up. I let my temper get the better of me, Nic. Please, just give me a chance, baby. I swear I’ll make this all up to you,” he pleads.

  There’s nowhere to go as he leans closer, his blue eyes taking in my every expression. I want to yell “no” at him and tell him that after his little display I brought Leo home and banged his brains out.

  I want him to feel the angst I felt last night, even through my anger, at the thought of him taking that tramp home and satisfying his lust in her.

  And that’s the problem, too. I feel a lot more for Law than I want to, a flame I’ve been secretly nurturing for years, and I just…can’t quit the guy no matter how much I want to.

  “How?” I ask, taking a sip of the tea before leaning to the right and putting it on the side table. “How exactly will you do that, Law?”

  He doesn’t answer, and I laugh ruefully. He never even thought this through, as usual, just saw what he wanted and went crashing towards it, namely me, thinking that a few sweet words would change everything.

  And then suddenly I know what I have to do to make things right. To prove once and for all to myself that Law is worth another goddamned thought.

  Getting up, I wave him down and trudge to my room, grabbing what I need and stalking back to him.

  Here goes.

  If he gets mad and starts in on me, I know that he’s not worth my time or the slow bleed in my chest.

  I was going to do this eventually anyway, so there’s no sense playing anymore.

  “Here.”

  He frowns when I dump the entire drawer on his lap, grab my cup, and curl onto the opposite seat, my heart strangely at rest since this whole thing started.

  This is right; I feel it now, and no matter what, no matter how he reacts, I know that it’s time to show him all of my cards and just hope that my hand isn’t a complete crapshoot.

  Law sets the drawer on the coffee table and leans in, taking the first frame from the top. I know what it shows and swallow past the dryness in my mouth and throat, as he turns it up and looks down at a photo of Brody and me on our wedding day in a little Vegas chapel.

  We’re smiling at the photographer, his hands resting on the slight swell of my belly. That was one of my happiest days because despite my misgivings, we’d committed to making a life that would be happy and content as we r
aised my son.

  I’d felt relieved and at peace for the first time in months.

  Law must realize in that second who Brody is because his eyes shoot up to mine, confused, dazed, curious.

  “You married Brody from the hockey team?”

  I swallow and nod once, leaning in to take the photo and set it back on the table beside me.

  “But, I thought he was—?”

  “He was.”

  Law sits back down, his arms hanging between his knees, as I retake my seat and finish my tea, just waiting for him to speak.

  “I don’t understand,” he finally whispers.

  Oh Law.

  “Yeah, you do. You know, you just don’t want to think about it is all. Look at the others,” I say, urging him and closing my eyes briefly to stem the tears burning at the edges.

  Law takes a deep breath and lifts out another three frames in one go, his hands shaking as he slowly turns them face up and arranges them on the table in front of him.

  In one, I’m holding my newborn son, my hospital gown clear, beaming into the camera lens. In another, Cody is about three years old and proudly grinning as he puts the finishing touches to a replica of some building he built out of his Legos.

  In the last, Law’s little mini-me is smiling brightly, decked out in hockey gear, as he proudly poses in front of the goal, his position.

  Like father like son, I think ruefully.

  The silence stretches for what seems like an eternity, as he gazes between the photos, taking in the different ages, seeing his son look more like him with every age progression.

  When he skims through the album though, I see his jaw tighten before he raises his gaze to mine, his face so stony I feel his anger like a physical blow.

  “You liar. You goddamned thief!”

  He’s up on his feet and pacing, his movement jerky with his anger. I know exactly how he feels and more. I paced for a long time, cursing him, calling him everything from liar to thief—because he stole my heart and every drop of happiness I had.

  In those early days I cursed him so vehemently it’s a wonder he didn’t fall down dead just from my loathing. So yeah, I know how he feels, and yet I still feel terrible because what he took from me can’t even begin to compare to what I took from him.

  We’re not even. He hurt me, but I did something unforgivable because I was hurt and angry. I deserve his anger now, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let him punish me anymore.

  “I understand your anger—”

  “You understand nothing!” he yells, moving so quickly that I rear back when he plants his hands on the arm rests and leans down, his irate face shoved into mine.

  “You understand nothing! You kept my kid from me!”

  “No. I kept you from him, which is a totally different thing, Law,” I say quietly, keeping my composure by sheer force of will.

  There’s so much more to say, but he doesn’t give me the chance. Instead, he drags me up by my arms and hurls me towards the hallway.

  “Go pack, Nic.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Law

  The rage I feel is nothing compared to the sense of hurt and betrayal when I saw those photos and realized that the very kid I’d been resenting for weeks is not only innocent, but also my flesh and blood.

  The moment I laid eyes on that first photo, the one of Nic in the hospital proudly beaming down at the baby, I knew. There’s no mistaking the James genes, and God help me, that kid is mine. From his little golden baby fuzz to the milky blue eyes that even then promised to be the exact same shade of deep blue that my father and I share.

  At the thought of my dad I feel renewed rage because it hits me that even now Mom and Dad are flitting around Europe with my son, a kid they couldn’t have mistaken as anything other than mine.

  They all knew about this and kept me in the dark. Everyone betrayed me, stole from me, and as God as my witness, they will all pay. Starting with that deceptive bitch, Nic.

  I expected tears or excuses from her, something, anything that would calm me down. Instead, all I got was her unwavering gaze and unapologetic stare.

  I want to hurt her and yet even as the need courses through me, I have the cruel thought that this is my “in”—the only way I will ever get what I want. See, I still want her; she’s still mine. I will have her, even if she’s nothing more than a liar and a cheat.

  Nicolette Sharp has always been the future mother of my children, children I now want so badly I feel my cock heat and lengthen at the thought of putting them in her.

  She’s stolen from me, so I think it only fair that she repay her debt. On her back, with my seed flourishing in her belly.

  Yeah, as the thought takes hold and starts growing, I allow my body to take over and wipe away the emotions threatening to break free. She’s going to wish she’d never even thought to cross me, and I’ll spend the next fifty goddamned years making her beg forgiveness, as I take everything from her that ever mattered.

  She’ll have no job, no life outside of what I’ll willingly give her, and the best part: She’ll enjoy every minute of her time under me—even as I break her spirit.

  She’ll belong to me in every way and be grateful for any crumb I’ll willingly give her. And those will be very rare. I intend to have a large family with her and will devote myself only to those I can love.

  Starting with Cody, my son, the boy I have to make up ten years to.

  Christ, how do I make up ten years of neglect to the kid when explaining to him that I never knew he existed? It seems like a lame-ass excuse—even to me.

  “Nicolette! Get your ass out here.”

  “I’m coming!”

  She stalks out of her bedroom, holding a small overnight carry bag and her laptop and purse. She thinks this will be a one-night thing? She’s got another thing coming.

  “That’s all you’re bringing for the rest of your life?” I ask conversationally, giving her a crude leer and seeing her blush. “Fine. Naked it is. Don’t complain to me about clothes and shit when you run out.”

  “Law—”

  “Shut your mouth right now if you know what’s good for you, Nic. You got two choices. You can either come with me and keep your yap shut and legs open and give me what I want. We can get married and raise our kids together. Or you can stay here and lose your son. I don’t give a shit what it feels like either which way, so you can hold the waterworks for my mom and dad. And yeah, I realize they’re in on this, too. Don’t worry, I’ll make them suffer in their own ways.”

  And I will, just not as terribly as I’ll make her hurt. She’ll be nothing more to me than a vessel, a broodmare as I put babies in her and keep her exactly where I want her—dependent on me and me alone for every minute she gets to spend with my kid.

  Does that make me a bastard? Whatever. I could give a fuck what anyone thinks of me.

  “But—”

  I’m in her face and crowding her into the wall at her back so fast I feel her breath hit me in surprise. He body is tense and trembling and so soft against the erection raging beneath my belt that I’m tempted to start my program here and now.

  “I told you, not a word. You’re coming with me. You have only a few functions. You will be my wife. You will bear and care for my children, and you will take me whenever, however, I want, without complaint. Anything besides that is not on the table. You decide you don’t want that, fine, but I swear to you, I will take my son and you will regret it,” I say quietly, letting her know exactly how serious I am with just that softly spoken statement.

  I feel her tense and tremble, her lip quivering for a split second before she straightens, blinks, and then nods. That a girl, Nic. Always weighing the options and coming up swinging.

  That’s the thing about my girl; she’s smart as a whip. She weighs pros and cons and makes a decision based on logic, and logically, she knows that I am not a man to mess with.

  Sure, I can be laid back and carefree, mostly it’s just an act though. I d
idn’t get to be captain of my team all those years ago because I’m a nice guy or a push over.

  I know what I want and I take it, no matter who says what or what others feel—and she knows that about me.

  “Can I—?”

  I don’t let her finish, choosing instead to do what I’ve wanted to do for almost two weeks now. I mesh my mouth to hers, sealing our lips and kissing her hard.

  She squeaks and tries to pull back when our teeth clash and grate together, but I just shove a hand through her hair and keep her still, thrusting my tongue into her mouth in an aggressive show of anger and ownership. I don’t stop kissing her till she’s gone soft and is moaning into my mouth, her tongue trying and failing to participate, as I completely overtake her.

  When I pull away, she’s got a dreamy look in her eyes and her lips are pouty and swollen from mine. She looks well aroused, and I love that I can make her want me despite the anger that I see bubbling beneath her surface.

  “Let’s go.”

  *******************************************************************

  Nic

  The car ride from the city to Jack and Minnie’s house is a silent, loaded event that leaves me feeling tense and on edge. I struggle to hold onto the anger that had been simmering below the surface when he’d laid down the law and thrown me at my bedroom like a wet rag with no feelings, but the truth is, I’m not feeling hot, and to top it all off, I’m still wet and achy at his display of dominance from earlier.

  Gosh, who knew that all that angry hardness would turn my crank like nothing I’ve ever felt before?

  I’m no submissive, and though I’ve read BDSM novels and stuff, I can honestly say that I’m not into any of that stuff—no judgement though—but his attitude, all that fiery dominance clothed in seething anger makes me hot and twitchy inside.

  When we reach the house and he finally drags me out of the car, I’m feeling a little less queasy and on firmer ground about this whole situation.

  I know a few things, and while some people think ignorance is bliss, I prefer to know what I’m dealing with so that I can confront the beast head on, instead of having my back ripped to shreds while I’m eaten alive.