Inked Playboy (Cocky Suits Chicago Book 5)

by Alex Wolf

  I still think about him nonstop, though.

  “That’s great. I’m glad you’re happy. It’s all I care about. Was worried about how much you were working and never having a social life. Thought you were going to end up a hermit like me.”

  “What’s up with you and your hermit life anyway? You dating anyone?”

  He shakes his head. “No, no. I’m swearing off women.”

  “Dad?” I stop what I’m doing and stare at him.

  He feigns innocence and shrugs. “What?”

  “You know what. Not every woman is… Mom.”

  His stare hardens for a second when I say the word but softens the second he sees my face. He can never look angry at me. Well, not since I was a teenager anyway. A few of those lines on his face—okay, all of them—are from me. I’m sure of that.

  “I know. I’m just—”

  “So, you got burned one time, twenty-five years ago. Not all women are bad. I’m a woman.”

  He shakes his head like I’m insane. “I wouldn’t even know how to date someone now. Get on one of those apps?” He scoffs, like it’s absurd. “Just swipe on a phone to pick a woman. What the hell is that all about?”

  “You could at least try.” I butter the bread and pop it in the oven.

  Dad grabs a beer and we head over to the table while he waits on the water to boil. I assume the sauce is done, but you never know with him. He’s helpless in the kitchen, but these dinners are perfect. I love his shitty spaghetti to death.

  I fill up a glass of wine and sit down. “So you picked one bad one and you just give up?”

  “Here we go.” He rolls his eyes and mumbles, “Same damn conversation for the last fifteen years since you were old enough to know about people dating.”

  I laugh. “Maybe I could set something up for you. There’re a couple ladies your age in my building. Accountants.”

  He rolls his eyes even harder.

  “Accounting can be exciting.” I take a sip and mumble, “I’ve heard. Spreadsheet is kind of a sexy word, if you separate them out.”

  “Jesus Christ.” His face turns pink. “Harlow, can we not—”

  I laugh at how uncomfortable he is, because I know he knows I’m joking. I glance around the kitchen. “You deserve to be happy. Wouldn’t you like someone to live here who can actually cook?”

  Dad’s eyes light up and he lifts his beer to cheers me. “That might be nice.”

  I smile. “Yeah, it would be.”

  “Anyway, kiddo. Enough about women and spreadsheets and shit. How’s work?”

  I nod. “Great. I just started some work for The Hunter Group. I have quite a few smaller clients I’m doing some stuff for too. I might start some work for Cole. He had meetings with some investors today, about expanding his gyms, but I’m not sure how I feel about that now.”

  “What? Why?”

  I shake my head. “Mixing business and personal stuff. That’s just… I don’t think it’s a good idea. It would be a lot of money, but I don’t think it’s worth it.”

  Dad shrugs. “I don’t know about that type of thing.” He holds up his hands. “Had to work with these, so you could work with that.” He gestures at my head.

  I mumble along when he says, “Callouses for college.”

  It was his favorite catch phrase when I was growing up, and he still loves to give me shit about it.

  “Smartass.” He smirks. “It’s great, though. Wouldn’t change it for anything. Look at you, my little girly girl, kicking all the ass in Chicago.”

  “Girly girl?”

  “The girliest girl I know, who has herself a boyfriend now.”

  I reach over and frog him on the arm with my knuckle. “Did you get a weed card, you crazy fuck?”

  He almost chokes on his beer and nods at me. “That was good.” He gets up to stir the sauce.

  “Really gonna need a woman who can cook if you’re smoking that shit.”

  He shakes his head. “Fuck, you curse worse than me.”

  “Yeah, well, you raised me.”

  He waves me off with a hand and starts stirring. “Anyway, so things are going okay with Cole?”

  “Yeah.” I nod, slowly. My heart sinks a little though, ever since I thought about the work he wants me to do for him. What if things go bad professionally? What if I fuck something up with his business? How will that play out when we go home together that night? Shit, this is all more complicated than I thought. Why didn’t I think this all through more?

  Dad must see me warring with myself. He turns off the stove and checks on the bread, then walks over and sits down. “Out with it.”

  “Out with what?”

  He stares blankly.

  I sigh and tell him some of my recent reservations I didn’t have before he opened his mouth about it.

  “I’m not the best guy to take relationship advice from, I think that’s pretty obvious. But I think that’s the gamble you take when you like someone. The ‘what if’ is what makes it exciting, interesting.”

  “Wow, Dad, that was pretty philosophical.”

  “Don’t tell anyone.” He takes a swig of beer.

  “I like him a lot.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I really like him; Cole. It’s pretty bad. Like I’ve never felt this way before.”

  Dad smiles. “Well, that’s great, isn’t it?”

  I nod a little. “But, Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  I shrink back a little in my seat. “He could hurt me. Like if something happened between us, I think it might destroy me. I’ve never really been afraid of much, but this, being with him. It scares me.”

  Dad gets up and walks over and hugs me. Why are dad hugs like the best thing in the world? I can intimidate anyone, but just having my dad give me a hug, it makes me feel like a little girl. Like I’m seven and just skinned my knee and the pain melts away. How does he do that?

  “Life is scary, kid. It makes it worth living.” He drops a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll get the food. Let’s eat.”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  As Dad walks over, a text comes through on my phone.

  “No phones at the table.” Dad doesn’t even look back.

  “I know, I know, I’m putting it away.”

  It’s from Cole.

  Beautiful Asshole: meeting with VCs went awesome! Let’s celebrate!

  My heart threatens to pound out of my chest. I’m so fucking happy for him. He must be on cloud nine right now. I fire him off a text.

  Me: Dinner with dad, then I’m all yours.

  Looks like I’m getting lucky tonight, again. Like every other night the last few weeks.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cole Miller

  The bass pounds in my ears at PRYSM night club. We’re on the upper floor, at a table overlooking the dance floor below. Dex, Abigail, and Donavan are sitting around the table with me. Dex pops a bottle of champagne and the moment is almost perfect, except Harlow isn’t here yet.

  I didn’t tell Dex she was coming either. That might be a bad move, but he looks so happy right now. I don’t want to ruin anything.

  “To Curve.” He holds up the bottle then pours four glasses.

  I crushed the meetings earlier. Three different firms all want to invest. I pretty much have my choice of the money I want for the expansion of my gyms, and since it’s like a bidding war, I can dictate the terms too.

  “To Pedro.” I hold up my glass.

  “Hell yeah. To Pedro too!” Dex shouts the last part.

  Abigail is all over him, practically grinding in his lap like she wants to go down to the dance floor.

  Fuck, it makes me miss Harlow even more. I want her here, now. I don’t want to wait. I need her like I need air to breathe. Like I’m suffocating without her. Goddamn, I have it bad for her.

  Every second she’s not around, all I do is wonder where she is, who she’s talking to. I know she was having dinner with her dad, and she works alone
all day. It gives me some comfort she’s with her father and not giving someone else her attention, but fucking hell. I think I might be obsessed with her.

  A couple girls in their early twenties, wearing barely any clothes at all walk up. “Cole Miller?”

  I almost lie, but I don’t. “Yeah?”

  “Oh my God, I told you,” one of them says to the other and they’re practically bouncing around. Their asses are about to fall out of their skirts and both of them have halter tops on that cut off right below their tits.

  Abigail glares right at them, but I can’t be rude. Everyone has a fucking Twitter account these days, and they’ll blast all kinds of bullshit about you if you say or even react in a way they don’t like. Then the mob piles on and nobody fact checks shit, they just believe whatever people tell them to.

  It’s crazy right now, my reaction. Months ago, I’d be taking both of them home with me like it was nothing. Now, the only thing running through my mind is I wish these chicks would leave me the fuck alone. None of them compare to Harlow. Not even close.

  “Can we have your autograph?” The chick thrusts a pen and a napkin at me.

  I just want them to leave me alone as fast as possible, so I scribble my name on the napkin and hand it back, then plaster on the best smile I can. “There ya go, thanks.”

  They try to stick around and flirt a little, but I look past one of them and…

  Fuck my ass.

  Harlow’s standing there, looking hot as balls, but she doesn’t look happy. Nope, not one little bit. In fact, if you could murder someone with just a stare, these two women would be homicide victims right now.

  I try to cut the one doing the talking off, but she won’t shut the hell up.

  Harlow walks up and stands right behind the girls.

  “So, are you ever gonna come back and fight again?” These chicks are thirsty as fuck, and they’re definitely gold diggers. I know they came here just to see if they could take a celebrity home.

  “He’s past his prime.” Harlow bows up to them from behind.

  They both spin around.

  One of them says, “He can speak for himself.”

  Oh, fuck.

  “You can speak through a straw if you don’t get the fuck away from my man.” Harlow fakes like she might throw a punch, and both of them scatter away.

  I grin right at her. “Thank you. Seriously.”

  Harlow plops down in the seat next to me and it’s immediately obvious I’m not getting off the hook that easy.

  I mean, what the fuck? I didn’t do anything wrong, but shit. I might be a little nervous the way Harlow’s eyes are searing a hole in my face.

  “You looked like you were enjoying that a little too much.”

  I hold up both hands. “They wanted an autograph. I can’t be rude to fans.”

  “Whatever.” She turns like she’s about to talk to everyone else and ignore me.

  I grab her around the waist and yank her close to me. She tries to squirm away, but I tighten my hold on her.

  “Let go of me, Miller.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll rip your fucking balls off and feed them to you.”

  I call her bluff and yank her onto my lap. “I don’t believe you.”

  Her hand flies down and she squeezes my dick through my slacks. I have to bite back a yelp, because fuck it hurts like hell, and it’s surprisingly kind of hot at the same time. Not her squeezing my dick this hard, but how jealous she looks, how possessive she is over me. I’ve never experienced anything like it, and it feels kind of nice to know there’s someone out there who would fight for me as hard as I would fight for them.

  “Believe me now?” She stares straight at me.

  I let go of her and she scoots over to another chair next to me.

  I glance over and realize Dex just watched the whole thing play out in front of him. Abigail’s eyes are wide. Dex looks like he wants to rip my head off but knows better. He’s a tough son of a bitch, but he wouldn’t stand a chance against me.

  What the fuck?

  Is Harlow seriously pissed off?

  I stand up and hold a hand out in front of her. “Come with me.”

  She scoffs. “Right.”

  “I’m serious. I want to talk to you, in private.”

  “We’re at a fucking night club. Privacy doesn’t exist here.”

  Dex is still glaring lasers right at me. Abigail looks like she wants to be anywhere but here. Donavan disappeared somewhere, probably to the bar to get a shot.

  “Please?”

  Harlow sighs, pushes back in her chair and gets up. We walk toward a corner where I happen to know there’s a little coat closet. Once we’re close enough, I open the door and shove her in there, then follow behind and shut the door.

  “What the fuck, Miller?” She shoves me in the chest with both hands.

  I don’t budge an inch, which I know pisses her off even more.

  “You almost threw my shoulder out of socket.” She tries to walk past me, right back out the door, but I get in her way.

  “Stop being dramatic.” The walls drown out the music and I can actually hear myself talk now. “What’s the problem?”

  She backs up a step to put some distance between us. “You mean how I walk up and two skank bitches have their tits in your face, fawning all over you like we’re at a goddamn strip club?”

  I shake my head. “That’s not how it happened.”

  “How would you like to walk up and I have two shirtless men grinding their cocks up and down my arm?”

  I bite back the rage that builds in my chest, just at the thought of that. I’d probably murder someone. I hold up both hands. “Look, people come up and want autographs sometimes. If I tell them to fuck off, it ends up in the news or on Twitter. You think I didn’t want to say that to them? I did.” I take a step toward her, but she backs up to match it. I continue toward her. She can’t back up forever, there’s a wall. “All I think about is you, nonstop on a loop in my brain, twenty-four seven, okay?” I stop and exhale an audible gasp. “Fuck, man, this night is supposed to be fun. I crushed it today. Everything is going good.”

  She’s still glaring at me with her arms folded over her chest, pushing her tits up in her little black dress. Just seeing her angry, it’s doing something to me. I want her to take all that frustration out on me if she needs to. It’s so damn hot.

  “Fuck this.” I head right at her and cage her in against the wall.

  She pushes me back with her hands, but her hips grind into me. She’s as turned on as I am right now. I kiss down the side of her neck, and she goes from pushing me away, to yanking me into her.

  “That’s what I thought, Harlow.” I whisper the words in her ear. “You can’t deny this shit between us. It’s fucking real. You’re mine, and I don’t give a fuck about those two women out there.”

  She yanks at the buckle on my belt, trying to get it undone as quickly as possible, then reaches down and palms my cock inside my boxer briefs. “I ever catch you with two women on you again, I’ll rip this off your body. It’s mine, understand? Only mine.”

  I shove my hand under her dress and palm her pussy, then squeeze it, hard. So hard it might leave marks on her, but that’s fine with me. She can do it right back. I want to wear the marks from her. “Goddamn right it is, and this…” I squeeze her even harder, to the point she yelps a little, but the look in her eyes says it all. “This is fucking mine. And I want it… Now.” I growl the last word in her ear and flip her around. “And I will have it.”

  Before she can get a word in I have it pressed to her, the head of my cock at her entrance, and I realize I don’t have a fucking condom.

  “Goddamn it.” Pure frustration courses through every inch of my body. I’ve never wanted her so bad, but I can’t have her, not like this.

  She must read my mind because she whisper-moans, “Do it anyway.”

  My eyes widen. “What?”

&
nbsp; She glances back at me, and fuck, I could get lost in those eyes, and my heart squeezes every time she gives me that look that’s only for me. “I want you. I want you now. It’s yours, isn’t it? Only yours? And that’s mine?” Her eyes move down, then back up at me.

  I nod and grip the back of her hair. “Only yours, baby.” I shove into her and holy motherfuck, it’s even better than I imagined.

  Harlow bucks up against me as I fuck into her from behind, and I’m not going to be able to last long at all. Not like this. Fuck me, she feels so good, and it’s a million times better than it’s ever been with a condom on. Not just the physical feeling either, it’s the connection, being closer to her. It’s like we’re finally one. I’m one with her.

  “Shit, Cole. Yes, fuck me just like that.”

  I shove up into her, over and over, trying to get as deep as I can. I try to log this away in my memory, how every little sensation feels, because it’s fucking perfect. I never want to forget this moment. I never want to forget any moment I’m with her. I could die tomorrow and die happy as fuck, knowing she’s mine and I’m hers.

  “I’m so close already.” I reach around and stroke her clit as our bodies collide and separate, over and over.

  “Come inside me.” Her words come out on a breathy exhale.

  My eyes bug out. Holy shit. I want it so bad. I want her to be mine, all of her. I want to mark her and let every goddamn man in the world know that she’s off fucking limits forever. I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life, not money for my business, not the fight for Pedro. I want Harlow Collins to be mine more than any of that.

  I wrap my free hand around her throat and thrust up into her.

  “You sure?”

  She nods furiously. “I want to feel it. I want it to be yours. Show me it’s yours.”