THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series

by Kristina Weaver

  Just not women. Or love.

  Holy hell. Did I just say the L word?

  I realize what it is about her that’s got me hooked. She must be the first woman ever, besides my mother, who hasn’t fallen all over herself to snag me.

  What has my balls drawing tight and tormenting my dick is her quiet disdain and lack of interest. Amazing.

  “Shit. I need an in, guys. I need it now before she gets it into her head that I’m not worth the light of day,” I mutter, ignoring the smirks they throw at me.

  “You’re already screwed then, man. Callie’s smart. I bet she already thinks you’re a dickwad.”

  Go with the flow.

  Fuck that. I think it may be time to dam the river and take back control.

  ***

  Callie

  “Stop it, Gruffy.”

  I’m going to hell for the murderous thoughts I’m having about my gran right now and I know it. I don’t think even confession and a hundred Hail Marys will get my ass out of the fire when I start picturing my woolly-haired tormentor hanging by her toes from my third-floor apartment window.

  “No, you stop it. The boy is from good stock, you dunderheaded shrew. He made one mistake, the exact one you made, and he’s trying to make it up to you and all you can do is yell at the poor lamb.”

  I hate them all as I shove on a pair of flats and try in vain to smooth down my dress where it keeps gathering around my butterball belly. God, I’m getting huge and it’s only the fifth freaking month of this travesty. If I hadn’t have seen the scans and had the doctor count toes, fingers, and heads, I would have thought the baby was a two-headed demon like his dad.

  He’s growing fast, and the things that is doing to my body are not okay. “I will not get stretch marks,” I keep mumbling to myself.

  The boobs aren’t doing great, either. My nipples have morphed from pretty pink to a shade I will not name. Son of a bitch.

  Now here I am, and I’m expecting the father of my baby and his whole clan for lunch and a day of getting to know each other.

  This is what I have to look forward to for at least the next three to four hours. And things are already hard for me. He calls me and says the most horrible things that make me mad and laugh at the same time.

  Yesterday’s nugget of pure gold was when he tried to tell me how sorry he is for being such a dick and how he’d really like to spend some time with me to get to know me. What came out was “I’m sorry, but you know, I need to know what to expect from your half of the gene pool. Just in case.”

  I don’t think he even realized he was insulting my ancestry or me, really, but that’s what I heard. I slammed the phone down in his ear and laughed my ass off for the next ten minutes while Dot giggled and gave me a pouty face for poor Jackie.

  “Gruffy, I’m not trying to be unreasonable here, you know. I just need some time is all. And a plan. The man told me without so much as a please that we should get married.”

  “So?”

  “Soooo, I don’t want to be just another responsibility, Gruffy. I want someone to look at me and want me for me, not because we both got bombed and messed up with protection. This baby is a gift, I freely admit that, but if I’d been smarter I would have kept it in my pants and thought about the consequences instead of getting into a place where the father of my baby is just doing his duty. Jack isn’t a bad guy.”

  She laughs her fool head off and shakes her head.

  “The boy is a bloody looker and the full package, but he’s shite with his mouth.”

  I beg to differ.

  “I’ve never seen a man so set on winning a woman while putting his foot so far into his mouth it tickles his bagpipes and yet I just adore that about him.”

  Huh. Funnily enough, me too.

  “So, lunch. What possessed you, Gruff? And don’t give me that shit about building bridges again. You’re full of shit if you think I don’t know you’re trying to matchmake.”

  “Love, I never once said I wasn’t. Now haud yer weesht and let’s go to bloody church before those little creatures come a knocking. I fear for their lives every time they step foot in the Lord’s house.”

  That’s a hoot and I’m giggling as I open the door and see Gruffy tense.

  “Bloody ‘ell and Satan’s baws.”

  “Hey, Gruffy!”

  “Where ya going without your girls?”

  “Oh did you see the new priest yet? Ginny from down the road texted me and apparently he’s ten kinds of fine ass. Oh give me some of that cracker and holy water, Padre,” Percy coos, turning my giggle into a fit of howling laughter.

  Poor Gruffy looks ready to keel over as they each grab an elbow and Percy starts strategizing about turning a man of the cloth to the dark side. Demons.

  I’m so freaking impressed with Gruffy’s speechless, silent pleas for help I don’t notice the limo idling at the curb till I walk smack into a hard chest and feel arms surround me.

  Dammit.

  “Hi, gorgeous. Wow. That dress is way too hot for church. Hey, Gruffy, thanks for inviting us. Mom’s real excited about going to a catholic service, and Gramps is chomping at the bit for the wine they serve.”

  I’m totally speechless as he practically carries me into the limo and I look up to see three grinning faces staring back at me.

  Chapter Ten

  Meet the Levins

  Callie

  Holy mother of God.

  I have no words for the awkwardness of this situation as the four hags of hell and their leader pile in behind us and crickets start chirping in the background.

  I think I may be caught in a nightmare as the rich and elite Levins grin at us all right before Gruffy loses control of her functions and drops a stinker when she falls into the leather seat.

  Look, she’s eighty, okay? Some shit is just expected. What’s not expected is the way they all start hooting as if she just won open mic night at the local comedy battle, and what is definitely not expected is the way Mrs. Levin practically throws herself at my belly and starts having a moment with my body.

  I have flashbacks of that super awkward lesbian scene from Ghost and I think I hallucinate, seeing my sweet Whoopi when her hands cop a feel of my busting bosoms.

  “Good Lord, Bubby, she looks just like I did when I was carrying Jack! My God, Callie dear, prepare for a broken vagina and stretch marks that look as if a tiger tried to make love to you.”

  “Mom. Stop freaking molesting my girl and get your ass back to Dad. Seriously, Dad, keep your tiger on its leash, old man,” Jack grumbles, unabashedly taking over for his mother with a smile.

  I finally find my tongue when I realize they’re all staring at me like a sideshow act, and the old man I surmise must be the grandfather gives me a thorough look-over and a wink.

  “You’re a looker, aren’t you? Good job, Jackie boyo, you chose a thoroughbred.”

  Maybe they’re not all lunatics.

  Gruffy seems to really like that, and I get to witness an accident in the making when she primps and starts batting her lashes.

  “She has all her teeth too, dear. Takes after her granny in the looks department.”

  Gruffy jabs Indie to stop her from pointing out that that statement is a blatant falsehood. Gruffy, like any self-respecting crone, owns or did own in the distant past, maybe one good tooth. Maybe.

  “Don’t be a wee clipe!” she snarls, calling Indie a tattler, her brogue going so thick I have to bite my tongue from pointing out that she hasn’t seen Scotland a day in her life and is as American as they come.

  Little fraud.

  “But, Gruffy…” Dot giggles, her hand going to her mouth to stifle an outright laugh. “You have—”

  “Now then, family, are we going to speak about the terrible straits we now find ourselves in with these two dunderheads? I think a nice courtroom wedding is in order since there’s no hiding the fact that they need to marry quickly before the gorilla she’s breeding just crawls right ou—”

 
“Gruffy!”

  “What, Callie dearest? Look at the size of these lads then. They’re all big as brick shot houses and fine stock, too. You think your wee bairn willna be as big? Why, you’re fit to be docked already and you’re only just halfway through.”

  “Why I outta…”

  “Hush.” Jack chuckles, restraining me when the urge to pick cotton becomes a need. “Let them be, baby. She’ll joke, Gramps will start flirting, and before you know it we’ll all be well acquainted. Just relax and watch the show.”

  Show? As Gruffy does continue to entertain and Grampa Jack, as he insists on being called, does start flirting, I sit back and allow Jack to hold me. He’s right, the show is hilarious.

  It feels good to be here with his strength to keep me up as the family, more like zoo, starts chatting and getting to know each other. Turns out his mom, Anna, is a lunatic in designer Chanel.

  She doesn’t cotton to airs and graces and despises people who think shit can do anything but stink. According to her, if those bastards who saw me puke like a firehose don’t like me, they can all get rogered.

  The dad, another Jack, doesn’t give a damn since he can buy, sell, or ruin anyone who so much as insults me.

  I’m liking them so far.

  “You okay, baby?” Jack asks quietly as we went our way towards the church.

  “Mhm, sure. I didn’t think it possible to meet people as nutty as my family. It must be a fluke.”

  “Babe, you met Freddie and Woody. Hell, you’ve spoken to me enough to have already realized we aren’t like everyone else.”

  “Yeah, but you’re rich. That gives you all a free pass,” I huff, shifting when Percy’s elbow jabs into the side of my belly.

  “Come here. Perc, keep those blades to yourself, sweetheart. I’d like my kid to be born without incident, please,” Jack huffs, grabbing me and pulling me onto his lap.

  I want to wiggle away and protest the action, but it falls completely flat when I feel something big poking at my behind and look down to see him grinning wickedly at me.

  “Sorry, baby, ignore it if you can. I can’t help getting hard when you’re near.”

  The low, husky whisper is so familiar and cemented in my memory that I feel my own sex respond to his seduction in a way that has me squirming closer to his hardness.

  I haven’t had sex in five months. To say I’m on the verge of attacking him right now is laughable.

  I want to kiss him so badly, I have to suck my lips to still the urge. Good Lord, are those my hands kneading the muscled chest beneath me?

  “Jack,” I whisper hoarsely, swallowing nervously as I peep around to see the others still chattering away.

  “Sh, baby, don’t go all stiff on me again. You feel how much I want you? I’ve been eyeing this beachba—I mean, your belly since I spotted you at Althie’s birthday party. Christ, even knowing you were with child and thinking it was another man’s kid, I was so hot for you that I used to go home and beat off to images of seeing you spread out on my bed.”

  My nipples go rock hard and start tingling as his words hit me right in the core. I start throbbing where I feel his shaft pulsing beneath me. My breathing has gone shallow and puffy as I look back at his lips and lick at my own.

  “I, this isn’t a good idea.”

  Be sensible. But I really do not want to be anything but reckless and under him. The attraction I’ve been fighting for weeks is becoming impossible to ignore or avoid any longer, and quite frankly I am sick and damned tired of telling myself that I don’t want to touch and taste him again.

  I want a whole night with him where I get to prove or disprove some of the things I dream of at night in my lonely bed when I wake in a sweat and so turned on it pains me.

  I want to know if he tastes as good as I dream he does, or if he is, indeed, pierced. I want to know if the feel of his mouth is as good or if the fullness of having him inside me is as orgasmically good as my dreams.

  More than that I want to slake the lust I feel for the man beside me and savor every touch, taste, and sensation of his big hands and body owning me.

  “It’s the only idea that I can accept, Callie baby. You know I lie in bed at night and crave the scent of honeysuckle? I want the smell of you on my sheets and skin. I want your cream on my sheets and coating my dick. I want to go to work with your arousal drying on my shaft so that I have a piece of you with me all through the day. Tell me you don’t want my mouth on you, that your nipples aren’t aching for my tongue, and I’ll stop bugging you.”

  The clever man has me there. He looks down at my chest and smirks.

  “Come home with me, Callie. Give me a chance. Please.”

  Gone is the stuttering, nervous man who insults me at every turn, and in his place is a smooth, silver-tongued seducer who knows how to sweet talk a woman and get exactly what he wants.

  No wonder he’s such a playboy; he’s golden when he’s in this mode.

  Should I go with him? Would giving in and risking myself again, this time consciously, be the start of something for us or another letdown that could hurt more than even my mother’s abandonment.

  “One chance, Jack. I’m going to give you one chance here to prove that you aren’t the asshole I think you are, but I swear to God, if you lie to me, if you hurt me, I will let the wolves at you and I won’t do a damn thing to stop them,” I warn.

  The smile he gives me is enough to make my hoo-hoo go volcanic, and I note with a deep sigh that I’m about to walk into church with my bits on fire.

  Oh well, I guess I should get used to the burn if I’m going to hell.

  Chapter Eleven

  Heat. Sheets. Treats.

  Callie

  I’m stuffed, happy, and just plain boneless by the time the Levins have cleaned Gruffy out and are ready to go home. I am in love with Jack’s parents.

  The old guy I have my eye on. But not too closely because he sat beside Gruffy all through lunch and she was smiling from ear to ear as I saw his hand move beneath the table. Eek.

  I could so get used to be waited on hand and foot, and I could really get into those heated looks Jack’s been throwing me ever since I released my poor body from that hellishly tight dress and threw on a jersey dress and flat boots that make me look hot.

  Who knew having a belly could get a man this turned on by the time the Levin clan starts heading for the door?

  The unholy alliance I see brewing between Percy and Jack’s mom is worrying, but I can’t even find the will to care as I kiss everyone good-bye and let Jack lift me into his arms.

  “She’s not coming in tomorrow, so deal with it and don’t bother calling. Elsa, lunch was great. Gramps, stop pawing her and get your old ass in the car, I need to take my girl home.”

  “You’re no fun, you little snot. I’ll call you, Elsa. This isn’t over.”

  “And there goes my dick,” Jack mutters with a shudder.

  They all laugh at that and I ignore the wolf whistles and colorful jokes they all throw at me as he strides to the car and slides me in before whistling and gesturing to another car that pulls up behind us.

  “You’re driving in that. No, I do not care, Mom. Dad, talk to your wife. I need some alone time.”

  “But, Jackie, I wanted to tell Callie all about the swollen—”

  “Good-bye, Mom! Jesus, like she needs another reason to hate me.”

  He’s in the car and closing the door on whatever she says as the driver pulls away. No sooner does the privacy window go up than I am in his lap and he’s kissing me senseless.

  I feel the connection in every nerve and can’t stifle a moan when he thrusts his tongue into my mouth and proceeds to lick at every corner and crevice of my mouth.

  My tongue is in heaven when he sucks it into his own mouth and starts loving on it like it’s a favorite treat, but what really gets my motor going is the hand action.

  They’re everywhere as he steals my breath. They’re on my breasts, groping the heavy globes and strok
ing softly at my nipples. One even manages to glide from my knee and up beneath my dress as I start writhing against his lap and grind into his erection.

  I almost scream when he cups his hand over my sex and starts rubbing at me with sure steady strokes over my cotton maternity panties.

  “You’re so wet already, Callie. I need to feel you.”

  “Feel me,” I plead, opening my legs with a sigh of bliss when he suddenly shifts and slides two fingers beneath the elastic. Those fingers know exactly where to go and I find myself crying out when they hit my clit and start strumming in slow circle.

  The moisture of my arousal is thick and heavy on my lips, and he uses the lubrication to slip a digit between them and tickle at my opening.

  “Jack.”

  I have to wrench my mouth away when breathing becomes difficult because the kissing combined with the finger he pushes into is so good I can’t catch a decent breath past the moaning that’s taken me over.

  His finger is wicked and knowing, pushing deep, ferreting out every little spot inside that has intense pleasure winging through me, straight to my clit.

  “So warm and tight, Callie,” he groans, and I look up to see the harsh pleasure on his face just as he curls his finger and starts playing me like a fiddle.

  I’m a mess, a desperate writhing mess as he uses his hand to touch me in ways I’ve never felt.

  The wet sounds of my passion and the look on his face as I writhe and start moving on his hand are erotic and sexy as hell. I want to touch him, give him the same pleasure, and yet all I can do as he starts thrusting and pulling out, hitting my clit with his thumb on every upstroke, is cry out and take what my body needs.

  The orgasm that takes me is hard, intense, and sudden. I find myself screaming and biting into the smooth flesh of his throat as I convulse and come all over him.

  “Jesus. Oh Jesus, that was fucking hot,” he groans into my neck as he slows his hand and pets me softly, bringing me down with a tenderness that is stealing my heart.