Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3)

by Anne Berkeley

  “Fuck you.”

  A smirk wormed its way across my face. “What’s the matter? Did I mar your spotless reputation? Am I really the first girl that hasn’t waited to spread my legs at the crack of your whip?” God, he was so high on his pedestal. It felt good to knock him down a peg or two.

  Jake’s nostrils flared. The smile had barely faded from my face when he dropped his head and crushed his lips to mine. His hand threaded into my hair, holding my mouth against his. His force was unnecessary. With my back against the wall, I had nowhere to go. This was the second time he’d taken me by surprise, the fucker.

  This time, however, I didn’t cede to his kiss. Raising my hands, I shoved him away. Or tried to. He didn’t so much as budge. When I lifted my knee, he quickly blocked me. Then he shoved his knee between mine, parted my thighs, and lifted me over his hips. His mouth moved to my neck, biting and licking his way up my throat. “Tell me you don’t feel anything, Shaw.”

  “What am I supposed to feel, Jake? I don’t even know you.” His parents died. He and his grandmother raised his little sister—who was away at college, and wasn’t on speaking terms with him. He liked Em’s cooking, but then most people did. Oh, and he liked rough, kinky sex. That was the extent of what I knew about Jake Whalen. It was a scratch on the surface.

  Despite my claim, I wanted to cave. I wouldn’t, but I sure as hell wanted to. “Put me the fuck down!” I demanded. His teeth scraped the edge of my jaw. If he reached my lips, I was done for. When his lips were against mine, I found it hard to think of anything other than the feel of him, the taste of him. His hunger. His control. “Please, put me down.”

  “Mother fucker.” Peter and his meticulous timing, decided at that moment to grace me with his presence. “I don’t give a rat’s fucking ass who or how rich you are. If you don’t let my sister go right now, I’m gonna beat the ever-living piss out of you.”

  Jake loosened his hold and stepped back. My feet dropped to the ground. I quickly smoothed my clothes and pushed my hair from my face.

  “You alright, pipsqueak?” Peter asked.

  “I’m fine, Peter. Can you give me five minutes?”

  “No, I fucking can’t. I leave you alone for five minutes and you’re surrounded by all the cocks of boyfriends past!”

  “Peter!”

  “You gotta stop playing these games with her,” Peter told Jake, ignoring me. They were chest to chest now. “She deserves better than this.”

  “I know.” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, refusing to look at me. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

  I felt like someone punched me in the chest. Despite knowing his stance aligned with mine, I had unwittingly hoped he’d change his mind. My fucking bad. I should’ve known better. Everyone had warned me that he was unwavering when it came to his rules.

  Jake squeezed past Peter and stepped from the alcove. Unfortunately, his easy capitulation enraged Peter, who—indignant on my behalf—grasped his arm and spun him around. Next thing I knew, Peter threw a punch, and Jake hit the ground like a sack of Idaho fucking spuds.

  “That’s all you have to say? Sorry? You asshole!” Peter growled, looming over him. “Stay the fuck away from her!” He kicked him for good measure.

  “Peter!” I shouted. While I—admittedly—felt a sense of satisfaction to see Jake on his knees, I didn’t want Peter causing him serious damage. “That’s enough!”

  “What do you see in this guy? He’s a fucking pussy!”

  Lifting himself from the ground, Jake pushed the hair from his face, causing the curls to stand on end. I took a long gander. I wanted to remember him that way, when he was at his lowest. Tomorrow when he was back in true form, I'd remember that he bled. “Nothing. Not anymore.” He had the audacity to look away, as if I wounded him with my reproach.

  Asshole.

  Digging in my pocket, I pulled out my keys and handed them to Peter. “Take my car. You’ll need it for your equipment.”

  “Where’re you going?”

  “Home.”

  “How’re you getting there?”

  “I’ll walk. It’s only a few blocks. I need the air.”

  “It’s dark out.”

  “Marshall can take her.” Jake wiped a smear of blood from his nose and looked to Marshall, who nodded in assent.

  “Then Marshall can walk with me, because I’m walking.”

  “Text me when you get home,” Peter called as I walked away. For the first time in God knows how long, I didn’t flip him the bird over my shoulder. That was saying a lot.

  Back at the table, Liam stood as I approached. I really wanted to walk right past and straight out the door, but he bought me a shot, and the hell if I wasn’t going to drink it.

  “You bouncing already?” Liam asked observantly.

  “Yeah.” Lifting my shot glass, I tilted my head back and downed half the contents. “Herpes are flaring up.”

  Liam stared confoundedly—at a loss for words—and then glanced over my shoulder. Understanding dawned across his features as he took in Jake’s appearance. “Oh right.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I see Peter's still overprotective.”

  “It was deserved this time.” Unlike the time Pax had assaulted Liam. Peter had stood there and watched. The two still held resentment for one another.

  Biting back a smile, Liam leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek. “Is it instigating things if I asked for your number in front of him?” He whispered in my ear.

  “You’re going to call me from Madrid?”

  “It's only until July.”

  “One condition,” I qualified. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I handed it to him.

  “What's that?”

  “You send me any dick pics—I get to post them on the Internet.” Liam and his jock friends were notorious for them in high school.

  “Fuck it. They're already there. Gingers are in high demand. We're rare.”

  “You're lying.”

  “You're gonna go home and look.”

  “Probably.”

  “Type in teeny weeny ginger beanie. It'll come right up: Liam McDermott.”

  I could've kissed him for making me smile despite the mood I was in. “Why did I break up with you?”

  “Because I was seventeen and had no sexual prowess.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “That’s rectified now. I’d like the chance to make it up to you.”

  “July’s a long time to wait.”

  “You’re worth it.” Smirking, he leaned in and pressed another kiss just shy of my mouth. He was toying with Peter. I could see it in his smile. “I waited four years for a second chance. I can wait a few more months. Besides, we can always sext until then.”

  “Bye Liam.” I decided to leave before his teasing went too far. Either I was going to take him home with me or Peter was going to get into a second fight. He was watching from the hall, staring daggers in my direction. No, some things never changed.

  “See you.”

  Stepping outside, I let the cold air wash over my face, and realized I didn’t have my coat with me. Or my fucking house keys. I’d just given them to Peter.

  “I can drive you,” Marshall offered. “You’re going to break an ankle in those heels, or you’re going to freeze your ass off, whichever comes first.”

  I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to go back inside. I think I’d rather risk a fracture or hypothermia. “Thanks for intervening back there between Peter and Jake.”

  Marshall lifted his shoulders. “He told me to mind my own business.”

  “You’re a real upstanding employee.”

  “He got what was coming to him. What he’s doing is wrong. There’re rules—there’re rules,” he repeated when I rolled my eyes. “You don’t mess with a guy’s little sister. It would be one thing if he cut the shit, but he keeps fucking around. It’s not cool, and he knows it.”

  “I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know if I’ll last until Coop deliver
s.”

  Marshall sighed lowly, and blessed himself with the sign of the cross. “I like you, kid, so I’m gonna spell this out for you. One of you needs to give. Right now, you’re both like poles, and like poles repel. Unlike poles attract.”

  Huffing petulantly, I looked away. I wasn’t chasing him. He could kiss my ass if he thought I was going to fall all over his feet like one of his groupie girlfriends. “I don’t know if I like the guy anymore. He’s a condescending sexist jerk. He doesn’t even like me. He only kissed me because I bruised his ego.”

  “If you believe that, you’re lying to yourself. He’s a good guy. He just keeps making shitty decisions.”

  “Pfft.” Whatever.

  “Like poles, kid. One of you constantly has your back to the other. All it takes is for one to switch poles and, BOOM, magnetic attraction.”

  “So why’re you telling me and not Jake?”

  “Because Jake has a sister. He’s not going to break the rules easily.” It would be an open invitation for any schmuck to make a play on her.

  To my right, the bar door burst open. A conflagration of bodies and limbs stumbled onto the sidewalk. I squinted against the faint parking lights trying to differentiate ass from elbow. My God, was that—“Liam?” There was no mistaking his red hair. Holy shit. Nor the blond curls of his opponent. “Jake!”

  Marshall folded his arms across his chest and rocked back on his heels, the quirk in his right brow daring me to object. “Does that look like a guy ok with another man hitting on his girl?”

  Chapter 14

  Setting her glass on the tray table, Coop sighed and sat back in her chair. “I want to stay here for-ev-er.”

  Coop, Em and I were spending the day at the spa, courtesy of Tate. Coop wanted to get out of the house. I hadn't expected them to foot my bill, but they insisted. I wasn't complaining. Working for a rock star did have its perks.

  Tate even sent along a catered brunch complete with mimosas in stem glasses. Not that Coop could drink alcohol. Instead she chose to splurge on my chagrin while her masseuse worked on her feet and calves with the ferocity of a butcher tenderizing a cut of beef.

  “Why you not have pastry?” the woman asked. She looked up from her work at hand, her perfectly groomed brows raised in a curious arch. Her name was Mei, and she had the most exquisite green eyes I’d ever seen.

  “I had one already.” Coop patted her belly as if it explained everything. “Watching what I eat. Less calories I have to burn later.”

  “Pah! You no fat!” She traced the curve of muscle along Coop's left calf. “Look at that muscle! You strong!”

  Em grinned behind her mimosa. “That's because she has them wrapped around her husband's waist all the time.”

  “Like you have room to talk,” Coop retorted. “Your underwear was hanging out of Shane's sleeve the other day.” They had fallen partially from his sleeve when he reached for his coffee. God knows how they made it up his sleeve. I say God knows because when Carter inquired, Shane simply shrugged and smiled crookedly then stuffed them into his pocket.

  “What about you?” Mei asked me. “You no have boyfriend?”

  “No, but I’m working on it.” Liam was texting me as we spoke. He texted me at Sea-tac, during his layover in Dallas, at the airport in Madrid, and just now, from the locker room at his soccer camp. He sent me a panoramic dick pic. By the looks, he’d gotten the whole team in on the action. I was currently looking at every color pube across the spectrum. Almost.

  ‘Happy posting,’ it read.

  ‘No point.’ I replied. ‘You’re not in it.’

  ‘High demand. I can’t give it away for free.’

  ‘Whatev. Seen one, seen em all.’

  ‘I know; it’s all in how you use it.’

  ‘Well, I’m a nurse so I’m usually sticking caths in them.’

  A few seconds passed. I watched the dots wink and disappear, and wink again as he typed and deleted his response. ‘If you didn’t want me sending dick pics, you only had to say.’

  I giggled over his backpedaling, and tapped in a reply while trying not to blemish my freshly painted nails. ‘Please don’t send me any more dick pics.’

  ‘Yes, Nurse Ratched.’

  Swiping the screen, I dropped my phone onto my lap and sank into my chair.

  “Was that the soccer player?” Em inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a picture?”

  “No, just his teammates, whom I now know intimately.”

  “Are you going to share?”

  “You really want to see twenty-two flaccid peckers? I can promise they're nothing impressive.”

  “I missed out on the eccentricities in life when I was your age, so yeah. I want to see what I was missing.”

  “Don’t let her fool you. She knows what she missed,” Coop spoke up. “That's why her thongs were up Shane's sleeve the other day.”

  Insistently, Em held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Give it over.”

  Carefully picking my phone from between my thighs, I handed it to Em. “Try to keep a handle on your excitement. If my phone gets wet, it won’t work anymore.”

  “Ew. I’m not going to diddle with the thing. I just want to see what the soccer star is sending you.”

  “He’s not a star.” I didn’t want a star. Not a doctor. Not a pro soccer player. Definitely not a musician. I just wanted normal. Someone who cared, and would make me feel wanted.

  “Yet," Em qualified. "Twenty-one-year-olds don’t go to soccer camp in Madrid because they want to become certified public accountants.” Em took my phone and turned it sideways to get a larger view. “Why would men ever think that we’d want them to send us pics of their junk? It’s not even pretty. I mean…at least make it stand at attention. Try and impress us.”

  “A little effort goes a long way. Pun intended.” Smiling, Coop stretched her arm and held out her hand. Em passed my phone to her. Immediately, she went to work, tapping and swiping at the screen like a seasoned hacker.

  “That’s ok. You can go through my phone. I don’t mind.” I totally minded. A person’s phone was like a private journal, not that I had much stored on it. But still.

  “It’s employer property.”

  “That’s so not cool.” Making my eyes pop wide, my phone let out that telltale slide whistle ‘whooooooop.’ “Did you just text someone? You did! Who did you text?”

  Coop laughed silently, ignoring me. My phone vibrated a reply. Coop’s fingers began tapping at the screen again. My ass barely left the chair when Em reached over and pushed me back down. “Relax, Paisley, she's not going to do anything godawful.”

  “Nothing godawful—that’s really comforting.”

  Pouting, I sat back in my chair. Mei tutted and wagged her rasp at me. “You should listen to your friends. They have boyfriends. You’re single.”

  “I’m working on it!”

  “You’re aiming for the wrong one,” Em chided. “Forget the redhead. There’ll be too many girls after him. Especially if he’s hot. They’re like a rare gem—hot redheaded men.”

  “At least he’s interested.”

  “He’s twenty-one, and he’s a jock. He’ll be interested in anything with tits. Trust me on this. He’s abroad. He’s young. He’s got the world in his hands.”

  “You could say the same for Jake, except he’s in a band.”

  “Jake’s twenty-nine. He’s traveled the world and back again. If he’s anything like Tate or Shane, he’s not impressed anymore with these girls who throw themselves at him.”

  I snorted indelicately. “Yet you want me to throw myself at him.”

  “Merda!” Em cursed, losing her patience. “You don’t have to throw yourself at him. Just stop running the other way.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, Marshall’s smile caught my attention. “Like poles, kid,” he mouthed. “Like poles.”

  I scowled and turned my head. “I don’t date people I work with.”

 
; “Coop, a little help here.” Em pinched the bridge of her nose as if I were distressing her with my steadfastness.

  “Jake will be here in an hour.”

  “What?” I gasped, the color draining from my face. Em dropped her hand, her eyes bright with excitement. I felt like I might be sick.

  “Jake’s going to pick you up in an hour.”

  “Why? What did you tell him?” My voice sounded unnaturally shrill, even to my own ears.

  Coop bit back a smile, albeit poorly. “Just a little incentive to quit dragging his feet before he loses his opportunity.”

  I sat forward in my seat, metaphorical steam spewing from my ears. “There. Is. No. Opportunity.”

  “Make sure you sand her heels really good,” Coop told my technician. “They need to be nice and smooth."

  She was worried about my feet. Meanwhile my face was covered in some kind of herbal mud mask the color of avocados. Mei must've come to the same conclusion, because she yelled something in Asian. A slew of girls filed out of the back room with a stack of steaming towels, a caddy with an assortment of lotions, a rolling cosmetic stand, and hair implements.

  “Don’t you worry,” Mei said. “You’re in good hands. My girls are the best.”

  “Can you lie back for me?” The girl with the hot towels touched my shoulders with the tips of her fingers, urging me to sit back. I obliged, though not without tossing a scowl in Cooper’s direction.

  “I’m gonna kick your ass for this, Coop.”

  “You can’t touch me right now, and by the time you can, you’ll be thanking me instead.”

  I seriously doubted that. My scowl told her so.

  “Try and relax.” Draping my face with steaming towels, my esthetician patted my shoulder. “We’ll just let the moisture soften the mud so we can remove it more easily, ok?”

  “Sure.” Yeah. Ok. I couldn’t wait that long. My patience was thin, thanks to Coop’s interference. After about five long minutes, I pulled the towels from my face and sat up. Mei and her girls gave gasps of disapproval as I began scrubbing the mud from my face with the towel, though no one said a word.

  “Chill, Paisley,” Em chided. “You’re causing mass aneurysms.”