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

by Anne Berkeley

  “Carter.” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shut the fuck up.”

  Sitting back in his chair, Carter folded his arms across his chest. “Whatever. Do what you want. But when you’re standing in front of the cameras, having your picture taken with Jake…”

  Dropping my head against the back of the seat, I groaned. Carter was a jerk, but he was looking out for me. Wherever Jake was taking me, I was going to be in the public eye. “Ok.”

  “You’re sure?” the stylist asked. He was cute, tattooed, with a snakebite piercing, and looked nearly indifferent to my capitulation. He ranked with the best in LA, Jake had assured.

  “Do it.”

  Satisfied, he began sectioning my hair.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Carter scoffed. “It can only improve.”

  “Fuck off, Carter.”

  “I’m just looking out for you, Violet. If you had a flake of kale wedged between your teeth, wouldn’t you want me to tell you?”

  “If your mouth resembled a hairy asshole constantly egesting bullshit, would you want me to tell you?”

  Carter winced, as if slapped. “There’s no reason to get nasty.”

  “Carter, I can always change my hair color, but you’ll always be a jerk.”

  “You know…I’m just not going to talk to you anymore.”

  “That’s all I can ask of you.”

  Twisting the last of my hair into a knot, my stylist headed to the backroom to mix up a bowl of hair color. I sank down into the barber’s chair, glancing around the salon. There were a few clients scattered throughout the place. The stylists did their best to keep them preoccupied with conversation, but I found them stealing glances in the mirror when possible. If this was any indication of how tonight would be, I was about to be scrutinized over every little detail.

  “Egest…” Carter mused. “That’s as bad as shat.”

  “I didn’t say shat,” I pointed out. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever said shat.”

  “No, your boy Jake says shat; you say egest.”

  In the chair beside Carter, Jake chuckled to himself, garnering our attention. “Sorry,” he laughed, “I can’t get the picture out of my head.”

  “What picture?” Carter inquired.

  “A big hairy asshole where your mouth is.”

  Carter cut him a condescending glare and flipped him the bird. “Fuck you, douchebag.”

  “Say douche again,” Jake continued, “when you pucker your lips, it really strengthens the visual.”

  “I don’t need this crap. I try to help your girl out and this is the thanks I get.” Disgruntled, Carter stood from his chair. “I’m going to grab a beer. Fuck you both very much.”

  “You keep talking, but all I hear is bbbrrrrrrtttttt.” Jake blew a raspberry, which sounded ridiculously like a fart. Shaking his head in disgust, Carter headed for the door.

  Matthew stood from his chair to follow, fighting a smirk.

  “Don’t let him drink too much,” Jake warned, “He’ll have to take a piss while we’re stuck in the cattle shoot.”

  “Would serve him right.” Nonetheless, Matthew tucked his chin and set off after him. The bell on the door pinged as he stepped out. He looked to the left, and then strode away.

  “You don’t need to change your hair,’ Jake told me, gathering my attention. “I mean it. The color is fine.”

  “Maybe I’m not doing it for you. If I end up in some photograph somewhere, I want to look at it without shuddering.”

  “You’re overreacting.”

  “I’m playing it safe. You won’t tell me where we’re going.”

  “If I tell you where we’re going, will you leave your hair?”

  He gave me pause for thought. I’d almost caved. Almost. “No!”

  “You’re going to listen to Carter over me?”

  “Carter doesn’t have anything to lose by telling me the truth.”

  Shaking his head, Jake stared in reproach. “He only pointed out that bit of logic to get under your skin.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less true.”

  “Wow.” Yes, I really hated my natural hair color. He was finally realizing that.

  “We can’t all have hair as pretty as yours.”

  Jake’s mouth popped open in protest. “Pretty? My hair’s not pretty.”

  “I didn’t mean to insult your masculinity with my poor choice of vocabulary. Would you rather handsome…or suave? Is that better?”

  “No, you said pretty.”

  “It was a compliment. I love your hair.”

  “You’re obligated to say that.”

  Biting back a smile, I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a dork.” He hadn’t wasted the opportunity, twisting my words to make a point.

  “Hot or sexy would’ve worked, Shaw.”

  “Noted, Jake’s hair should never be referred to as pretty. Hot and sexy are the solely acceptable descriptions.”

  “Just so that we’re clear.”

  “No man’s hair should be hotter than his girl’s!” I exclaimed, indignant. “It’s not fair that you—a man—should be born with those curls while I look like the effing scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz!”

  Standing from his chair, Jake came to stand in front of me. He leaned over me, staring me in the eye. “Why did you change it back in the first place?”

  I looked down at my fingers, which were locked in my lap. I’d only ever colored it purple because my natural color was so boring. It was the only way people noticed me. It made me stand out in the crowd. After Jake, I no longer wanted to stand out. I wanted to blend in. I’d decided that when the right guy came along, he’d notice me for me, and not my purple hair.

  “It was never about your hair,” he said. The blood rushed to my face, leaving me feeling self-consciously warm. He was pulling out all of the stops and addressing my insecurities. Fuck if wasn’t working. Leaning closer, his stubble tickled my cheek, his lips a breath away from my ear. “It was your ass. I love that fucking ass of yours.”

  Finding my voice, I laughed and pushed him away. He budged only enough to reach my lips, taking my mouth in a kiss. My complaint died at the sweep of his tongue. I found myself angling my head, returning the kiss, my wrists locking around the back of his neck.

  “Um, yeah,” Marshall complained, “I’m still here.” A brief pause. A sigh of lament. “Jesus, no matter which way I turn my head there’s another damn mirror. It’s like watching them make out in IMAX.”

  “You’d think they’d gotten it out of their system on the plane,” Shane chimed in. “They spent a whole what—ten minutes in their seats?”

  Breaking the kiss, Jake straightened and looked at Shane in objection. “You’re one to talk,” he scoffed.

  “What? Em and I aren’t that bad.”

  “If that were true, I wouldn't know what leccami me figa meant. Oh, Shane leccami me figa. Og, yes...right there. More, Shane. Don't stop...Merda!”

  A sheepish grin spread across Shane's face. “That's different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “We were in the privacy of our own room, not standing in the middle of a business establishment swallowing one another's tongues.”

  “What’re we sixteen?” Jake argued. “Quit busting my balls. It was just a fucking kiss.” Dropping back into his chair, Jake adjusted himself, sporting an obvious erection. A wry smirk spread across his face.

  Marshall and Shane fought a smile while I blushed furiously. Luckily, the stylist returned with a small cart, carrying a bowl of purple hair dye. “You look like you’re still debating. Did you change your mind?”

  “Yes,” Jake said at the same time I said, “No.”

  Jake gave me a look that brooked no argument. “She’s going to go red.”

  “I look terrible in red.” I looked like a clown. All I needed was a red rubber nose.

  “Sugar, there’s a red for everyone,” my stylist admonished, “your stylist just didn’t find the right shade.”


  ♪♫♪♫

  “It’s a little…revealing,” I said quietly. The fabric of my dress was so sheer, you could see everything, right down to my panties discourteously glued—yes glued—to my ass so they wouldn’t shift around while I posed for the cameras. It was a nude stretch of silk gauze with a few well-placed embellishments. Don’t get me wrong. I was a girl. I loved dresses. But this was…wow. Celebrities wore gowns of this ilk, not nurses from the suburbs of Seattle. Not even if I was going to some sort of fancy pants fundraising gala with the keyboardist of Hautboy.

  Flashing a smile, Jake adjusted his tie, while giving the dress one last look-over. “You look perfect.”

  “I don’t know what the big deal is,” Carter added. “We’ve already seen you in your thong. At least you have bikinis on this time.”

  The smile vanished from Jake’s face. “Your tie’s a little loose, man. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll tighten it for you?”

  Carter smirked and headed toward the back of the store. “I need to take a piss. I’ll meet you in the car.” Aware that Jake was staring daggers at his back, he flipped him the bird over his shoulder.

  “I’d like to strangle him with that fuckin’ thing.” Frowning discontentedly, Jake went back to adjusting his tie, wiggling it back and forth, tightening and loosening the knot.

  “Get in line.”

  “Hmm?” Looking up, Jake briefly met my gaze in the mirror.

  “Get in line. You’re not the only one wishing harm on him.” Placing my hand on his shoulder, I spun him around. I grabbed the knot to his tie, loosened it sufficiently, and then ruffled his hair.

  “What the hell, Shaw.”

  “You’re a rock star, Jake. Look the part.”

  Jake’s eyes roamed over me, taking in my freshly dyed hair and my evening gown. We’d finally found the appropriate red. For my hair, that is. It was auburn, though on the lighter side, and very natural looking. I felt like a woman, having shed the girlish purple dye.

  My dress, however, was nude with a sheer neckline made of tulle, so that it looked strapless. It fit like a glove all the way down to my knees where it flared out around my ankles. The entire thing was beaded, though more heavily around my chest to conceal my breasts. As mentioned, they weren’t nearly as generous around my nether regions, revealing my panties underneath.

  “Beside you, Shaw, I feel underdressed.”

  “Not used to that?”

  “No,” he confessed, demurely. “I wanted to look distinguished.”

  Hence the reason he cut all the curls from his head. I had almost cried when the first blond curl fell to the floor. I’d thought he was doing it for coloring my hair again. I was wrong. He cut his hair because he wanted to look good for me.

  “Well…” I said, fixing his tie, “you succeeded.” Slipping the tip of my finger beneath the edge of the knot, I removed a buckle in the fabric, and then pulled it taut. His collar, I smoothed by running my fingers along the edge and down to the points.

  “You think?”

  “Especially with those silver hairs.”

  I received a dirty look for that observation. “Better keep your mouth shut, Shaw, or I’ll stick my cock in it.” I burst into laughter, causing the corner of Jake’s lips to curl into a smile. “It’s not funny!”

  “I’m sorry.” I pinched back a smile, trying to suppress my amusement. “You’re right—they’re not gray; they’re pale blond.”

  “Damn right they are.” He wasn’t really angry. I could still see the hint of a smile as he looked down at me.

  “I like them either way,” I threw out there, hoping to appease him.

  Grabbing my hand, he led me toward the door. Maneuvering in my dress was no simple task, tight as it was down to my knees. Jake noticed when I wriggled my hand from his and grasped the fold of his arm to steady myself. He looked down at me, his eyes shadowed with hunger. They packed a punch delivered straight to my groin. I was amazed what power he had over me. One sultry look had me wanting to take the limo for ourselves.

  Turning away, he shook his head, as if shaking off a thought. Without a word, he pushed through the door and led me to the limo waiting at the curb. The limo driver, a short, stout man with wiry black hair, opened the door. Jake stepped to the side as I let go of his arm, and he held out his hand. Accepting his help, I ducked my head, and carefully climbed into the car.

  “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I asked, once seated comfortably inside. The leather seats were buttery rich, but my focus was elsewhere.

  “Not a chance.” Jake dropped onto the seat beside me. Cupping my nape in his hand, he pressed his lips against mine. Naturally, my lips parted, unable to resist indulging in a moment of privacy. The tip of Jake’s tongue met mine. And then he devoured me, his hand holding me firmly against him. His for the taking. While the kiss was short-lived, it was greedy and demanding. It was heady, this mutual resignation of wills.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” he swore. His breath was warm on my lips. “You’re on my mind every waking minute.” A short burst of laughter escaped him. “And sometimes when I sleep. All I can think about is you. It can’t be…” He shook off the thought, “the fuck if I care.”

  Unconsciously, my gaze fell. It can’t be right. Us. Despite his assurances, he still had his doubts. I was Peter’s little sister. He shouldn’t be with me. Being together is wrong because work and pleasure shouldn’t be mixed. I felt robbed of the pleasure I had so mistakenly trusted in his words. Regret didn’t slash me like a razor, it walloped me like a blunt sword.

  “Shaw.” I met his eyes again, drawn by the tone of his voice. “It wasn’t the most romantic thing to say, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

  “It can’t be what, Jake?”

  “Healthy,” he said without hesitation. Pulling my hand to his groin, he wrapped my fingers around the hard width of him. “I wake. I think of you. I sleep. I think I you. I breathe. I think of you. I make a wry comment about putting my cock in your mouth…”

  A smile spread across my face, and with it, a fresh flush of color.

  With his hand still cupped around my nape, he drew me closer until his lips brushed across mine. Just as abruptly, he pulled away. Far enough to look me in the eye. “What did you think I meant?”

  “Nothing.” It sounded guilty and ashamed. I wasn’t giving him a chance.

  “Liar. You know how I feeling about lying.” Tilting his head, he stared from beneath his ridged brows.

  “It’s nothing!” I insisted. “Really.” A swift tug on my arm, and I found myself slung over Jake’s knee, my ass pointing inelegantly into the air.

  “You looked like I’d just boiled a puppy, Shaw. I’ll give you one more chance.” Hungrily, he smoothed his palm in a circle over my ass. “What did you think I meant?”

  “It can’t be right! Us! Together!”

  Behind me, the door swung open. I turned my head just as Carter ducked his head in. Taking in the scene—my ass pretty much filling the entry—his brows arched. A leer wormed its way across his face. “Sweet baby Jesus, baby’s getting a spanking!”

  “Shut up, Carter,” I grumbled as Jake helped me up. I moved to take a seat next to Jake, but he tugged me into his lap instead.

  “We’re not done here,” Jake said quietly. He left the threat open, preferring to finish our conversation in private, with Carter climbing into the cab.

  “You’re really into that shit, aren’t you?” Carter continued. “You like Jake’s dark and twisty side, you dirty little girl.”

  “Since you’re hard of hearing, I’ll sign it for you.” I popped my middle finger into the air. “Fuck off.”

  “That’s not very ladylike.”

  “You’ve mistaken the part where I give a damn.”

  “You know, keep being rude, and I’ll finish what Jake started.”

  Climbing into the cab—and past Carter, who sat smack dab in the center of the seat—Marshall gave him a not-
so-gentle elbow to the jaw. “Ooh, sorry man. It’s cramped in here.”

  “That’s just wrong,” Carter complained, rubbing his jaw. “Why you always gotta take the girls’ side?”

  “I can’t help it if you’re not a gentleman.”

  “Who says I’m not a gentleman?”

  “Your mouth.”

  Frowning, Carter made a noise of derision. “I never say anything that isn’t true.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but Jake squeezed my knee, warning me from garnering Carter’s attention again. Carter was a good guy. His intentions were never malevolent, but his delivery was often abrasive, impulsive, and wrapped in a shiny red bow called wit.

  The bantering continued while the others climbed into the car and took their seats. When the last of us had settled in, Matthew signaled the driver, and we were off. The destination was still unbeknownst to me. Keeping to his true self, Jake was savoring the buildup.

  Ducking my head, I peered out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of one thing or another, perhaps a famous landmark that might give some small clue as to our destination. The anticipation was killing me. If he wasn’t going to tell me, I’d figure it out eventually.

  One thing I knew; he’d gone out of his way to make this day special. He’d seen to every detail, from the flight and hotel, down to my dress, shoes, and hair. I have to admit, I was impressed. He’d put a lot of thought into it. More effort than I would’ve ever expected of any man. I knew from experience. I had ten brothers. They didn’t have an ounce of creativity between them.

  Turning my head, I pressed a kiss to Jake’s lips. “Thank you.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up into a grin. “What for?”

  “This.”

  “The night hasn’t even started yet.”

  “It’s already more than enough.”

  Jake studied me for what felt like minutes, and I was sure everyone was staring. They weren’t, of course. I could still here them conversing between themselves. It was like Jake and I were in a separate plane of existence. “Things are going to be different. I promise.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “You’re still unsure. But that’s ok. I haven’t treated you well. Tonight, I’m making it up to you.” Lifting his hand, he skimmed my cheek with his fingertips. His eyes lit up, watching my face flush with color.