Naughty and Nice

by Sarah J. Brooks

  “He’s in room one. Five minutes. Don’t push me on it.”

  I didn’t answer; I ran straight into his room and paused as the silence of the intensive care unit, with its machines and its suction of air permeated my ears.

  “Brad,” I whispered, taking in his shattered appearance. He was in a cast from his neck down to as far as I could see, with his left arm held away from his body in a plaster cast and a sling. One of his legs was in traction, and his face was black and blue.

  In spite of that, he opened his eyes when he heard my voice.

  “Thank God,” he said. “I didn’t think…” He stopped, wincing at the pain moving through his body.

  “Shhh,” I said, going to him. “Don’t talk about anything. Don’t speak. Just nod yes or no.” I put my hand on his chest, felt the cool plaster. “Are you in pain?”

  He began to answer, but I pressed my finger to his lips and shook my head. He smiled a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up at least, and he shook his head. No, he was not in pain.

  “Are you drugged out of your mind?” I asked, smiling a bit.

  He nodded yes. Absolutely.

  I leaned in and kissed him, pressing my lips to his. I traced his lips with my tongue, pausing for a moment as I heard him groan. Assessed whether that groan was one of pain or pleasure. Then, I continued. I moved my tongue along his jawline, feeling the scruff of his five o’clock shadow, and moved my lips to either side of his adam’s apple as I kissed down his neck.

  I stopped shy of where the cast began, and I returned my mouth back to his lips. His lips pressed against mine with an earnest quality, one that suggested that, if he was fully mobile, he’d have me on the floor spread out and pinned down… just how I liked it.

  “You rescued me,” I said. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you.” I traced his chest, my fingers against the plaster of his cast, as I spoke.

  “You rescued yourself,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper. “I was… incapacitated.”

  “No,” I insisted. “It was all you.” Was it really? No. I know that, and so did he. But, I also knew that, sometimes, a man needed to know that he had rescued a woman. Especially a man who had been through the wringer like Brad had been. His day…

  “Antoine,” he said, as if reading my mind.

  “We will get your son back,” I said. I pressed my head to his chest and, as much as the hospital bed would allow, snuggled in to him.

  “No, the adult Antoine. We need to talk to him. He knows… he knows how to get my son back. He knows…” Brad’s voice was a struggle. “He knows where the other house is.”

  Brad

  Being laid up in the hospital was driving me absolutely crazy. I’d never been out of commission like this. Every time I thought I could move, though, maybe even stand up, my body would creak in a way that reminded me, generally with a shooting pain, that I wasn’t in any position to get around.

  Simon and Antoine kept me abreast of everything that was happening over the phone while I was in intensive care. After three days, I was moved out of ICU and into a regular room, and then there was a steady stream of activity as Simon, Antoine, Julian and Cassie continued to plan how we were going to get Antoine back.

  I looked around our makeshift conference table, with me at the head, of course, in my hospital bed, and I felt confident for the first time. Yes, the police should be in charge of this. But, I also knew that, my whole life, if I’d wanted something done it was up to me to do it. It was how I ran my life.

  “So where are we at with Manuel?” I asked Simon. “I’m obviously on his radar now.” I shook my head, knowing that I was in the most tenuous spot I’d ever been with the man who had been holding my child captive for years. Who had killed my fiancée. I was fortunate that Manuel Brown was not an unpredictable man; I knew that he was angry, and I had an idea of what he would do with that anger. I knew that we needed to get Antoine as soon as possible. There was no more time allowance; it was now or never.

  “He’s retreated to South Africa,” Simon said grimly. “Presumably for asylum. We have it on good authority that Antoine is still in London, though, and we’re basing our plan on that authority.”

  “Who is it?” I snapped. I wasn’t in the mood for unreliable sources.

  “It’s me, Sir,” Julian said, speaking up quietly. “I know the building where he’s being kept. I had my men do some recon, and it’s confirmed that he’s there.”

  “Building?” I asked. “I was told he was in another house…” My voice trailed off as Antoine shook his head subtly. He’d been wrong.

  “He’s in a commercial building downtown,” Julian said confidently. “A warehouse that was, by all accounts, something that you might have used for storage of your… product.” He looked at me as though he’d just reminded himself that I was in this up to my eyeballs and, if we got my son out alive, I’d still be looking at some serious charges myself.

  “So you’ve been there?” I said, shifting gently, wincing at the pain that continued to move through my body. “You’ve been there, and it’s possible to get him out?”

  “It’s possible,” Simon said, stepping back into the conversation.

  “So what are we waiting for?” I said. I gazed out at the gathering of people and felt every inch the CEO I was; I felt, maybe for the first time, like I was in absolute power. Even from a hospital bed, everyone here was operating for my best interests because my best interests provided for their best interests.

  “We’re waiting for the go ahead from you,” Antoine said. “Are we clear to move in tonight?”

  “Yes!” I snapped, waving my hand at all of them. A wave of irritation and frustration moved through me. The doctor had said that the medications I was on would make my moods somewhat unpredictable. “I’m about to get out of this bed and go with you.”

  “That would be significantly against medical advice,” Cassie said. “Please, honey.” I looked at her and softened as her eyes caught mine, pleading. “Just let us do this. I’ll get Antoine. I’ll make sure he’s in my arms and safe, and I’ll bring him straight to you. Trust me.”

  I looked at Cassie and a wave of warmth moved through me. She had grown in the time I’d known her from what I thought would be a one night stand into the woman I wanted on my arm, in public, in private, in business and in pleasure. Still… I couldn’t quite let her know that. Not yet.

  “I’ll trust you when I see my son in one piece,” I said, my voice cracking. “Just get him to me. We don’t have much time.”

  Cassie, Simon, Antoine, and Julian filed out of the room and took with them all the hope I had in the world to get my son back.

  Cassie

  We stood outside the warehouse, watching and waiting. Julian had called in reinforcements from the NCA, and the entire warehouse was covered from top to bottom. The NCA was watching from across the street as well, rifles trained on the windows and doors. I looked around, my heart pounding in my throat. I stifled a nervous laugh; the sound caught in my throat like I was choking.

  “Are you okay?” Julian asked. He looked at me with a critically caring eye. I felt, when he looked at me like that, that he could see right through me. There was no denying that Julian and I were somewhat drawn to each other. In another life, a life in which Brad did not exist, Julian and I might have a chance. Of course, I reasoned, in a life in which Brad did not exist, Julian and I would never have met.

  “I’m fine,” I said quietly, trying to steady my voice. “I just feel like I’m on the set of a movie. I have to keep reminding myself that this is the real deal. That those guns are loaded and that the good guy doesn’t always win.”

  “The good guy always wins,” Julian said. “It’s in the movies that they don’t. Why else would you watch if you didn’t have some doubt?” He smiled and squeezed my hand. “This is under control. It’s dangerous, yes, but it’s not going to be dangerous for you or for Antoine; it’s only going to be dangerous for whoever is standing guard over t
hat little boy.”

  I knew he was lying, and I spread my lips in a semblance of a smile, letting him know that I at least appreciated his efforts. He was about to say something when a voice began to squawk into an intercom he had on his shoulder.

  “Go,” he said into it. He looked at me and nodded. “Are you ready? Do you remember everything we talked about?”

  I nodded. “Wait for your signal, go straight for the door you’re standing by. When you open it, get inside, grab Antoine, and get him the fuck out of there.” That wasn’t exactly what Julian had told me, but I hoped it was close enough.

  It was. He nodded. “If you hear gunfire, drop where you are. Put your hands over your head and make yourself as flat on the floor as you can. I’ll find you and let you know when you can move again.”

  I nodded and gulped, the tension rising in my ears as a ringing, screeching sound. I closed my eyes and shook my head, trying to clear the sounds.

  Julian reached out and took me by my upper arms, faced me to him, looked into my eyes from about an inch away. “If you can’t do this, that’s okay, just tell me. No one expects you to—”

  “I’m fine,” I said loudly, pushing him away. I didn’t want to hear about how I wasn’t a cop and no one was expecting me to help rescue Antoine. I felt like I had been living my life, every moment, to save this little boy, to reunite him with his father, the love of my life. “Let’s just fucking go.”

  Julian nodded, said something low into the intercom, and he turned to walk toward the side door that had been cleared for our entrance. He led, and I followed. I’d looked at the blueprints of the building and knew that we were going to be taking steps down to the basement, which had been converted into an apartment for at least one of Manuel’s men. He drew his gun and motioned for me to go ahead. I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

  Immediately, I was covered on all sides by Julian’s men. I saw them, felt them, knew they were there to protect me. I walked down the steps, my ears tuned in to any sound that I didn’t recognize, any sound that seemed out of place. I rounded the corner and finished walking down the stairs. Julian motioned for me to stop. Another NCA agent stood in front of the door, lifted three fingers to count 1, 2, 3, then he flung it open. The room looked like a normal entrance to an apartment. I waited for the signal from Julian.

  He opened his mouth and began to motion for me to go inside. I took a step. Then, I heard gunfire, saw fire coming out of the apartment like fireworks. Shouts, “Get down!” mixing with gunfire overtook my senses and I dropped to the ground.

  I put my hands over my head and curled up into a ball, trying to protect myself in the only way I knew how. I winced as the gunfire continued, feeling tears squeeze out of my eyes as I covered my ears with my hands.

  A few moments later, the gunfire began to sound more distant.

  “Cassie! Go! Go right now! Go!” Julian’s voice was like a spring and I burst forward into the apartment even before my eyes were fully open.

  “Antoine!” I whispered loudly. “Antoine! I’m a friend of your dad’s. You’re safe. Antoine! Where are you, honey? I’m a friend of your dad’s. You’re safe.” Julian had told me to keep repeating the same phrases over and over, and that’s what I did. I searched each of the rooms quickly, half expecting Antoine to be standing in the middle of the room waiting to be rescued. I wasn’t thinking.

  “Do you have him?” Julian yelled. “We don’t have much more time!”

  “He’s not here!” I yelled back.

  “Check the closets, Cassie; he’s not going to be having a picnic on the floor!”

  I began to fling doors open, every closed door I could see. I entered one of the bedrooms and pulled open the closet door. I gasped.

  “You’re here. Antoine. I’m a friend of your dad’s. You’re safe.”

  A small boy, far smaller than I knew his age to be, emaciated, bruised, looked at me with huge, white eyes.

  “Mr. Brown?” he asked quietly. “Did Mr. Brown send you?”

  “No, Antoine,” I said. I dropped down to my knees so I could look into his eyes. “I’m a friend of your daddy. My name is Cassie. Your daddy sent me to bring you to him.”

  “Where’s my dad?” he asked.

  “Come on, Cassie!” Julian roared. Both Antoine and I looked toward the door, at shadows moving by.

  “Come on, Antoine,” I said, scrambling up and grabbing him by the hand. “I’ll answer all of your questions when we get out of here.”

  I pulled Antoine so hard I thought I was going to take his arm out of its socket, but he hung with me, catching up whenever his body threatened to hold him back from keeping pace with me. We burst out through the apartment doorway and stood in the brightly lit stairwell. I looked around. Bullet holes riddled the walls, but there was no blood, and there were no bodies. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

  Julian rushed to us and took us both into his arms. “Good,” he said. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  ***

  I walked into the living room carrying a tray with two bowls of soup, a plate holding two slices of buttered toast, and two tall glasses of milk on it.

  “Who’s hungry?” I asked.

  “Me!” Antoine said, running to me and almost making me drop the tray as he crashed into my legs.

  “Easy there, sport,” Brad said from the couch. He smiled at me. I winked at him, the grin on my face so wide it was almost painful. I set the tray down on the coffee table in front of where Brad was sitting on the couch. Antoine sat next to his dad and they began to eat.

  Brad’s condition was improving; he had been home from the hospital for a few weeks, and he was down to just one cast on his arm. Antoine had gained almost fifteen pounds since his rescue, and he was looking more and more like a healthy, normal boy… though the counselor had said that Antoine would need extensive therapeutic treatments.

  “Care to join us?” Brad said, holding up a piece of toast. He winked.

  “I’m okay, thank you,” I said. “I’ll have my dinner later.” I looked meaningfully at Brad, and he smiled back, understanding exactly what I meant.

  We spent the evening quietly together in Brad’s suite. Antoine, for some reason, preferred the suite to Brad’s London home. I thought it was because the suite was smaller. Brad thought that Antoine didn’t like being in houses. Either way, we went wherever Antoine wanted us to go.

  After Brad tucked him into bed, he came into the bedroom where I lay in bed, waiting. I’d slipped into a black, silk teddy that I’d gotten earlier that day.

  “Surprise,” I said as I watched his eyes drink me in from the tip of my nipples, visible through the fabric, to the apex of my thighs, where my bare labia was covered by a thin layer of mesh.

  “I guess I’m having my dessert now,” he said, moving slowly to slip beside me underneath the sheets.

  “Eat up, my love,” I said. “You’ve earned it.”

  He gently, with his good hand, slipped the straps of the teddy off my shoulders and began to kiss my exposed nipples. I felt a shiver move through me as his tongue flicked over each hard nub. His hands began to massage my stomach and hips as he positioned himself over me.

  Brad had never been big into foreplay, but since we’d gotten home with Antoine, he was a different man. He seemed more complete. He seemed like he wanted nothing more than to make time slow down, to luxuriate in everything around him—including me.

  He began to kiss his way down my stomach, undoing the front of the teddy and letting it fall to the sides. He slipped a finger under the elastic of the black panties and pulled them gently down my legs.

  He was hard, and, though I knew he was prepared to take his time with me, I was hungry for him. Hungrier than I’d felt in a long time. He was hard, pulsing, ready, and I brought him to me, spreading my legs and wrapping my calves around his hips.

  “Hello there,” he said, a coy smile on his face.

  “Hello, Daddy,” I said. “Come on
in.” I widened my legs and drew his cock into me, feeling an energetic surge move through me. He began to thrust, and, as we settled into a rhythm, I sighed in pleasure. From Belize to here and everywhere in between, I finally had a place to call home.

  The End

  Preview of “The Billionaire’s Fake Marriage”

  Chapter 1

  Lilli

  “There’s a guy looking at your ass from that window.” Anna laughed as she pulled me back into the Uber. “You should give him a little show.”

  Anna was the kind of friend that could convince anyone to do something crazy. She was fun, carefree, and wild beyond her years. I had only recently connected with her, but she had really spiced up my partying life.

  “He’s probably already getting a pretty damn good show. I don’t have on any panties,” I said with a giggle.

  For fun, I wiggled my ass back and forth while I continued to lean into the car window and talk to my girlfriends. My legs were wobbly from our evening of drinking and dancing, and I used the time to gather my focus before I had to walk into my house.

  “Oh, you’re naughty. Let’s give him a real show,” Anna said as she jumped out of the vehicle and wrapped her arms around me to give me a giant hug.

  I had lost my balance as she swung the door open and was barely standing when she wrapped her arms around me. Anna was shorter than me, but she still managed to lift me off the ground. Her arms stayed locked around my waist, and my skirt pressed up toward the crest of my ass. I glanced up at the window as she spun me around and saw my handsome neighbor standing shirtless in his bedroom, watching us. I could only imagine what he was thinking as he looked down at our silly group of girls making so much noise after our night of partying on a weeknight.

  He wasn’t even hiding the fact that he was watching us. The light in his bedroom was on, and the curtains were wide open as he stood there with a mischievous smirk on his face. I’d only been back home for a couple of weeks, but a handsome neighbor was certainly one of the perks of being back under my parents’ roof. He was mysterious and much better looking than any of the men I normally hung out with. I estimated he was a few years older than me; okay, actually he was probably ten years older than me, but that didn’t matter for the flirting we were doing.