Fool’s Errand: Cartwright Brothers, Book 4

by Anderson, Lilliana

  “What would happen if you told me exactly where that safe came from and how you got it?”

  He pushed the vodka towards me. “It’s not worth the risk. How about you cut the deck?”

  “So pushy. OK.” I placed the cards back on the table then took the very first off the pile. A six.

  “I’ve got a good chance here.” He smiled, wriggling his fingers in the air before he took a stack of about twenty cards and held it up. “Seven. Ha ha. Told you I was lucky.”

  “Very lucky.” I undid one button of my shirt, eyes on his as he watched my fingers work.

  “One more win and that shirt is toast.”

  I smiled and lifted my glass to my lips. “Don’t keep a girl waiting,” I said, downing the contents in one gulp. My eyes went wide. “Holy mother of God,” I gasped and coughed. “What the fuck was that?” My eyes watered and my throat burned. So much for playing the seductress.

  “Cinnamon vodka,” he said with a laugh. “You all right there? Need some water?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I hacked, nose running, eyes watering as he jumped up and got me some water and tissues.

  “I thought you would’ve read the label.”

  “I was too busy looking at your bedroom eyes,” I admitted when I got myself cleaned up and under control.

  He released a great belly laugh. “Bedroom eyes,” he repeated, calming down. “I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman like you, Sloane.”

  “And what kind of woman am I?”

  “Straightforward. Honest. I don’t have to guess what you’re thinking because you just say it, and the only games you play are the ones we’re both in on.”

  I thought on his words for a moment, twisting my empty vodka glass around on the table. It wasn’t the first time someone had said those things to me, but it was the first time it sounded like a compliment.

  “You’re not like other guys either,” I said.

  “You sure about that?” he asked, sipping his vodka the way I should have.

  “Yeah. Most guys will string a girl like me along for years. But not you. I know exactly where I stand and where this leads. I’m under no grand illusions, and that’s…refreshing.”

  “Where exactly do you think we stand?” He picked up the cards and shuffled.

  “Friends,” I said simply before smiling then adding. “With potential benefits.”

  He grinned. “Friends with potential benefits.”

  “Do you disagree on the term?”

  “Not at all. But I do wonder if—when—it becomes ‘friends with benefits’ whether those benefits will be something we enjoy each time we see each other, or if this is a one-job-only deal.”

  “You really want to risk that with your family watching us like hawks?”

  “Deny, deny, deny. They can suppose all they want as long as we never confirm.”

  “Hmm. You make it sound so easy.”

  “It could be.”

  I grinned and reached for the stack of cards. “I guess we’ll just have to see if the benefits are worth a repeat performance.” I cut the deck and showed a jack of hearts.

  “Oh, they’ll be worth it,” he said with confidence. “I’ll have you know I get excellent feedback.” He cut the deck but held his card face down so I couldn’t see.

  “You survey all your conquests?”

  “They keep coming back with no promise of commitment. Do you think I need to survey them? Or do you think the writhing and screaming of my name and calling me a god might do?”

  “Such a bragger.” I had to laugh. “Show me this card, King of the Clits. Let’s see if I undo another button, or whether I do this one back up.”

  He lifted his card. “A two,” he said with a laugh.

  I sucked the air through my teeth. “Oh, too bad for you.“ My fingers twisted the open button back to closed.

  “So cruel.”

  “So fun.”

  “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

  “Only as much as you enjoy torturing me,” I replied.

  “I fucking love torturing you.”

  “Glad we’re on the same page.”

  We continued cutting cards and drinking vodka, managing to get to an equal score of four all. My buttons, going up and down until we got to the final draw.

  “This is the one, Slater. I can feel it in my boner.”

  “OK.” I laughed, feeling a little lightheaded. “Why don’t you pick first, then?”

  “No way. It’s your turn to go first. Can’t have you cheating your way out of this somehow.”

  “I never cheat,” I said, cutting the cards and holding mine up. “Queen of hearts.” How fitting.

  He sucked in a breath then held his hand over the deck, closing his eyes as he whispered, “Come on, King.”

  My heart beat like crazy, desperately wanting him to find that king too. Making out with him shirtless would be the perfect end to an incredibly fun Saturday night. I can say no to more. I can stop whenever I want.

  With a quick movement, he selected his card and held it up, eyes closed, squinting, before he looked at what he held. “Ace of fucking spades.” Shit. He dropped the cards with a sigh. “Sorry, buddy,” he said to his crotch.

  “Wait,” I said, standing while working my buttons open with shaky hands. “Aces beat kings.”

  His eyes darkened, and he licked his lips as I moved towards him. “I thought we were playing high and low, not poker.”

  The shirt fell open at my sides, revealing the skin of my belly and the centre of my bra. The little bow was the girliest thing about my outfit. “Which rules would you prefer, Cartwright? High and low or poker?”

  Sucking in his breath, he lifted his arm and placed a hand on the line between my abs, his fingertips teasing at the base of my bra. “Poker,” he said. “Definitely poker.”

  Then he took a hold of my hips and I lowered myself so I was straddling his lap, our mouths connecting as he pushed the white shirt from my shoulders and worked the clasp of my bra free.

  My fingers couldn’t get his shirt open fast enough, and he tugged the damn thing off as I dropped my bra on the floor. Then we sat back and just looked at each other—his bronze skin, my freckles. His gloriously toned pecs, my tiny breasts and pert nipples. I ran my fingers over his skin, watching his expression change while I felt the heat and hard length of his dick pushing beneath me. I was glad he was turned on, firm and pulsing with want. It gave me a confidence in my own sexuality that I didn’t know I had. This stunning man wanted me. Seemingly as much as I wanted him, and he was willing to win each item of my clothing, taking great delight in doing it.

  I was under no illusions that this was anything more than physical. But sometimes, that was all a girl was happy with.

  “Kiss me, goddammit,” he practically growled as he grabbed the back of my head and brought my mouth to his. Our bodies pressed closer, skin to skin, our naked torsos feeling so good I caught myself wishing that the rest of us was naked too. Fun without sex. Money.

  “You’re an amazing kisser,” I gasped as his mouth moved down my neck and his hands wandered over my skin.

  “So are you.” His words were almost lost in a mumble, his lips and tongue tasting and teasing, searing a line towards my—

  “Oh my God.”

  His mouth clamped down on my nipple and sent a zap of erotic energy straight to my clit.

  I dropped my head back, my hands gripping his broad shoulders as he treated my breasts to the pleasure of his mouth.

  “I could suck on your nipples all day,” he said, taking a moment to let his fingers do the tweaking while his tongue slid along my collarbone. “Preferably, all night.”

  “Oh yes.” I rolled my body against him, hands in his hair, his cock pressing between my thighs. It felt so good that I didn’t know if I could stop.

  “Sloane.” Grabbing hold of my arse, he stood and shoved my legs so I wrapped them around him.

  “What are you doing?” I asked on a pa
nt, wishing for the friction of his cock and his mouth on my nipples to return.

  “Taking you to the bedroom so you can’t keep grinding on my cock like that.” He buried his face in my neck and sucked.

  “That’s a terrible idea.” My voice was an unconvincing whisper. “How is that going to slow this down?”

  “I’m not trying to slow this down. I’m trying to get more comfortable.” He dropped me on the bed and leaned over me, his tongue running along the waistband of my pants as his hand covered my breast.

  “Second base only,” I gasped. “We should be making out like a couple of fumbling teenagers.”

  “I was super handsy as a teenager,” he countered, pulling a nipple into his mouth. Oh my God. “I also didn’t stop at second base.”

  “This isn’t the time to tell me about your past experience.” I was going to come from nipple play alone. I was going to come, and I was going to lose half a million dollars because I couldn’t contain myself when his mouth was doing what it was doing. Oh God. I had to stop this, had to do something to take my mind off that tongue. Wait. “How old were you when you lost your virginity?” His tongue swirled and tugged, my hands ran across his massive shoulders as I hissed between my teeth.

  “Ah, ah, ah. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.” He moved to my other nipple and flicked at it with his tongue.

  I don’t want to stop. This feels so good.

  “But I want to know.”

  “Not telling.” His mouth closed over the tight little bud and my back lifted off the bed. Holy shit.

  “I lost mine on my seventeenth birthday,” I forced out, fighting my desire to keep going. Money. You need that money.

  He lifted his head, my nipple releasing from his mouth with a pop. “To the guy your mum...”

  I nodded. Then he sat back on his knees and blew charged air out of his mouth. “That’s fucked up.”

  “It is what it is,” I said, disappointed that he stopped while relieved that my tactic worked. I wasn’t sure that I could actually bring myself to make him stop. I wanted to come so bad. Throb, throb, throb.

  Grabbing the blanket from the end of the bed, he pulled it up so I was covered to my neck then lay down beside me, releasing another breath slowly. “I lost mine at fifteen. Wendy from Ballarat.”

  “That was her full name?” I tried a joke, rolling onto my side so I was facing him.

  He just gave me a sideways glance. “She was here with her family during the September school holidays. It was a bit of a catastrophe.”

  “Why was it a catastrophe?”

  “She was a virgin too. Neither of us realised she’d bleed, and turned out she had this thing about the sight of blood. She passed out when she saw the sheets and I thought I’d killed her. Called an ambulance and everything.”

  “Oh my God. How traumatising.”

  He lifted his brow and grunted in the affirmative then a grin spread across my face.

  “You thought you fucked her to death?” The giggle erupted up and came out my nose as a snort when I tried to stifle it.

  “Yeah, laugh it up, funny girl. The ambos pissed themselves laughing at us too.”

  “You’ve gotta admit, it’s pretty funny.” The laughter just kept coming as I imagined him horrified because this girl had passed out. I felt mean, but I couldn’t stop. “You thought you killed her. With your dick!” I threw my head back into the pillow, cackling uncontrollably, tears coming out of my eyes. “How did you ever trust yourself to fuck again?”

  Glancing at me, he folded his arms across his chest, obviously perturbed. “I never fucked another virgin again, that’s for sure.”

  Slowly, the bubble of laughter reduced itself to a smile and I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I thought you said you would have taken mine.”

  We locked eyes and my heart jolted inside my chest. “Yeah, well, you’re different. If we’d been closer in age back then things would have been different too.”

  “You think?” I returned to my side and let my gaze wander over his delicious body. He had a knack for saying exactly the right thing. Then I let my fingers follow, wandering up his ribs then over his pecs.

  “Yeah,” he said, watching my hand move against his skin, stark white on bronze.

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Because then it would have been me you confided in instead of Toby. Me you came to.”

  “Does it really bother you that I went to him with those things?”

  “Nah, I get it. But I still wish I’d been older so it was me.” It still amazed me that he’d felt that way all those years ago. It made me feel good about myself, that someone had actually wanted me then…and maybe a little now.

  I pressed a kiss to the point where his shoulder muscle joined with his bicep. “I wish it was too.”

  He let out a slow breath. “That was a dirty trick you played just now, bringing up your mum.”

  “You brought her up, actually.”

  “Yeah, but you had to know I’d make the connection.”

  I ran my fingers down his abs and watched him shiver under my touch. “All’s fair in love and war, Abbot.”

  “Hmm, I’ll remember you said that.”

  “Think about it while you kiss me.” He lifted his brows, hope and excitement lighting his eyes. “Just kissing. I’m the one who gets to do the touching this time.”

  “OK. But the pillow fort comes down tonight.” He leaned over so his arms caged me beneath him.

  “Only if you wear underwear.” I slid my hands up his delectable sides to his strong back.

  “I never wear underwear.” He teased his lips against mine.

  “Then the pillow fort stays.”

  “Fine. I’ll wear underwear. But you can’t put your shirt back on.”

  “Deal,” I whispered, arching my body up so our chests touched, the blanket providing my loophole barrier.

  He sucked gently on my bottom lip. “This feels a lot like winning, Sloane Slater.”

  “I know,” I gasped, my fingers pressing into his bare skin. I was in control again, and the money would be mine. “I know.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Just Friends

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Abbot asked the next morning when he found me getting dressed. We’d fallen asleep for a few hours after exhausting ourselves kissing and touching. There were no orgasms. We were both careful not to push the other too close to the edge—a beautiful drawn-out torture at the time—but as it hadn’t helped with my travel insomnia, I was up and getting ready to work.

  “I’m going to work on the safe,” I said, tucking my shirt into my trousers. “Well, after I shower and get some clean clothes. You’re obviously coming with me.” I wish.

  Maybe after the safe is open…

  “It’s Sunday, Sloane. No work on Sundays. Even crooks need a day off.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that, seeing I’ve only been a crook for the last week.”

  “You’ve been a crook all your life. You’ve just been on sabbatical. Now, get your shirt off and get back into bed.”

  I looked at him, the mess of hair, the shirtless chest, the beckoning eyes and kiss-sore mouth, and all I wanted was to remove every stitch from my body and beg him to fuck me—just like he wanted. But then I’d lose and this trip, getting mixed up with his family again, would have been for nothing. So, I shook my head and stepped backwards. That bed was a dangerous place. Those hands, that mouth, they were weapons against my ability to refuse him. “I want to run. Maybe swim.”

  “Got a little pent-up energy, Slater?” He grinned, his eyes wicked as he pulled the blankets back and revealed the giant tent happening in his pants.

  I’m drooling.

  I’m staring.

  Look away!

  “I haven’t trained properly for days.” I turned and moved to the door. “You can join me if you like.”

  “Running?”

  “Or swimming.”

  �
��How about I take you to the gym? You can do all that there, even use the bikes so you can get the full triathlon experience.”

  “Your gym has a pool?”

  “It’s a health club. It has everything. Come on.”

  He got out of bed and pulled his own shirt on. I felt a bloom of disappointment as the buttons went up and his chest went away. Then we grabbed the rest of our clothing from the living area as we exited the apartment.

  “Why do you stay at Jasmine’s when you have access to this place?” I asked, my thumb pointing over my shoulder as we headed downstairs.

  “That’s a very good question.” It actually seemed like he hadn’t thought of it prior to this moment. “I guess I just packed up my shit from the beach shack and dumped it at Jazz’s without thinking much about it.”

  “Too busy pouting over being the odd twin out?” I teased, pouting my lips as we pushed out onto the footpath.

  “Something like that.” He slipped two pieces of nicotine gum in his mouth then inhaled deeply. “Fuck, I could do with a smoke this morning. Last night was…” He let his words fall away as he did this combination of shaking and nodding his head. It looked like confusion.

  “Frustrating?” I offered.

  He shook his head and inhaled through his nose, moving his arms towards his chest like he was trying to conjure the word he wanted. “Interesting, intense. Fun. It was fun.”

  “Getting blue-balled is fun? OK.” I laughed, and also took a deep breath. There was something healing about it. It relieved the sexual tension we continued to build upon, but just a touch, and just for a moment. It was right back there when I looked at him again.

  He grabbed his crotch and adjusted it with a grin. “Yes, Sloane. Not fucking you right away is fun. Now, get in the damn car. I need a cold shower, and about three hours working this off at the gym.”

  “I thought you said the gym isn’t fun.”

  “It isn’t. It’s necessary.”

  * * *

  Once back at the big Cartwright house, I made a beeline for my bedroom and the shower. It wasn’t normal to shower before going to the gym. But, after last night, it was required. I smelled like Abbot and Abbot smelled like me.