“Yeah and no. Yes, because I loved him and he just left. No, because it wasn’t all his fault and I’m just coming to realize it now,” I say tiredly, rubbing at the headache building behind my eyes.
It’s a hard pill to swallow after listening to Indie’s drivel this morning and admit that I was an asshole girlfriend. Not once did I tell Marks about my life with my family, and to make it worse I made him into a dirty secret, as if he wasn’t good enough to introduce to the people I love.
What a prick.
“Oh honey, that’s just awful. Indie talked to you and made you feel terrible, didn’t she?”
“Yes.”
I’m not a crier so don’t think I’m giving into the shame and regret I feel. Screw that. I just have to say that I don’t feel so good about me right now and that sucks a lot since I’m used to feeling pretty awesome.
“Well that’s good honey, because she’s usually right,” Luci says, planting her ass in a stool across from me where we’re taking up a whole table in the empty room.
“I hate that. And I hate that I have to do some stuff that makes me feel like a loser,” I mutter, scowling at my phone when the text light blinks on.
“Who is it? Is it him? What does it say?” Callie demands, grabbing my phone before I can get to it. “Oh, aww that is so sweet.”
“What?” I yell, grabbing it like a high school screamer.
The text isn’t even from Marks and I feel my cheeks heat as she laughs her ass off and shakes her head, pegging me with a knowing smirk.
“And so it begins. I have to say, I thought Indie would fall long before your grumpy ass did, but that’s life. Unpredictable. So tell us about this guy.”
Luci leans forward, reminding me of a rabid dog, and I practically feel my world shift and go into overdrive as I prepare to bare my soul to two of the four most irritatingly lovable women in creation.
Chapter Seven
Look Into My Crystal Balls
Percy
“No, absolutely not. You stay right there or I’ll call the cops. I have a restraining order,” Cleo yells, trying to close her door before I can get in.
“Oh calm down Sulky Sue, that is so last week,” I mutter, pushing my way into her little shop in Chinatown. “It’s in really bad taste to have the cops at my door when we both know you brought that on yourself with your hoodoo and witchy ways.”
Cleo just rolls her eyes and closes the door behind me and Callie to point us towards a back room.
“What do you want, Leighton?” she snarls as we go deeper and take seats at the round little table.
This room is classic and clichéd fortune teller, I joke not. It’s got the beaded curtain, crystal ball sitting center stage, and the seventies tassles along the hem of every fabric item I can see.
“Shouldn’t you already know what I want? You are the psychic,” I point out, cringing when she shrieks beneath her breath and gives me the evil eye.
“I’m off today, or I was until you showed up here uninvited.”
“Chill out, Oda Mae, I just need a little help.”
“Help? Yeah, sure, if you’re saying you should be in a straitjacket.”
“Really? That’s not very nice, Cleo. You know I’m self-conscious about my ticking eye,” I kid, feeling goose bumps wing their way down my spine when she peers at me silently for long minutes before rolling her eyes and huffing.
“Fine, but you pay double.”
“Er—”
“Or I give you nothing.”
“Sure, sure, that’s uh, fine. Now come on! I need to know what’s happening and I need a few pointers.”
I get another eye roll—no wait, that’s just her going into one of her trances, creepy, and I watch as she seems to sway and twitch a little before opening her eyes and looking straight at me.
“You should really take the clothes in your cupboard to one of those swanky department stores. You could be rich if that’s the path you choose,” she says airily.
“No thanks, I prefer being cool to being rich, and I will definitely not be cool if I ever have to meet that Anna Wintour chick after watching The Devil Wears Prada,” I joke.
Cleo snorts and throws me a smirk.
“Yeah, like you’d be that popular. Now let’s seeeeee. Hmmmm. Okay. Yikes. Uh-uh. Damn. That’s rough.”
“What? What is it?” I chirp, at the edge of my seat right now just watching her commune with her…whatever she communes with.
Have I said that this whole thing creeps me out and makes me feel slightly afraid? No one should see the future and still be sane. Just like Cleo.
“I got a hangnail that’s chapping my ass.”
“Dammit, Cleo, just stop messing me around and tell me what I need to know,” I grate, eyeing the crystal ball with thoughts of violence.
“That is not nice, stop thinking those things immediately or I press my panic button,” she says.
“M’kay, but I thought that was a private thing that girls only do for a special someone in their lives,” I say tongue in cheek, taking Callie’s grin and high five as my due.
“Oh shut the hell up. Why haven’t you ever given any of us sample jewelry to wear around this burg? It would really help that business you need to start take off.”
“I don’t want it to take off! I just want to know what’s going to happen with me and—”
“Marks, yes I know. I am psychic, remember.”
“No, can’t say I do since all you seem to be doing is annoying me right now. Come on, Cleo, help me out here and I swear I will stop spamming your e-mail,” I beg, hating her for making me stoop this low.
It’s hilarious because just a few months ago I used to make fun of Luci for believing in this drivel, and now I feel like a junkie needing a fix. I blame Marks for this. If he wasn’t still so handsome I would definitely just light his car on fire and take revenge pics to post to my Facebook account.
As it is, I’m so freaking confused right now. Do I really want him? And not sexually, since we all know the answer to that. I’m talking the deep stuff here that has my chest aching in a terrible way at just the thought of not seeing him again.
“You’ll stop before I hex you, Percy, so there. Hmmm, things are pretty murky, no matter how deep I look. Have you recently cut a few days off of your schedule?” she asks.
Callie claps and squeals at that and I find myself grinning back at Cleo with a little more respect for her than I had before.
“Yeah, five of the hot things to be exact.”
“Good, they were holding you back. Yeah, shoot, that does not…you need to make a choice of some kind, and oh, darn it, Percy! Stop being so closed off, girl, it’s making things difficult. Look, I’m not gonna lie to you, things are not clear because you keep changing your mind so much and second-guessing your every move that no one, only God knows what will happen now. What I do see is marigold and a little hobbit of a man. They’re important to whatever you want to come of this, so don’t just forget them and overrule what they can bring to our journey.”
“And Marks? Come on, I wanted to know whether or not I should take a chance on him, Cleo!”
“You already know the answer to that without having me see a damn thing and you know it. That’ll be three hundred bucks.”
“What a ripoff,” I grunt, shoving the money at her with a hiss before walking out of the back room with my shoulders slumped.
“It’s the best three hundred dollars you’ll ever spend, I promise. Now run along, child. You have dinner to cook and some sheets to heat tonight.”
“It wasn’t all that bad?” Callie giggles as we walk to the curb and flag a cab to take us back to work and Luci, who’s called twice since we left.
“It was a total bust, Cal,” I mutter, sliding in and making room for her before giving the cabbie the address and flopping back in the seat. “You know, two weeks ago my life was just fine. I was content with my job and my life in general, and I hardly ever had a sweating incident. Now all I
can seem to do is think about crap and see myself doing things that I know are not a good idea.”
“Perc, you’re just being way too cynical. I remember when I thought Jack was cheating and that this baby wasn’t his. Remember what you told me when you caught me crying and eyeing the wine? You can’t just assume something bad has happened without giving that other someone a chance to explain. Well I listened and I got Jack and Jackie in the bargain, and now it’s time to listen to your own advice. Go all in and give it a chance.”
Yeah. That’s so what I was afraid of hearing today, because honestly, it’s just what I want to hear and knowing that that probably means it’s the exact opposite of what I should be doing.
No offense to me, but my record isn’t all that great so trusting whatever I feel is not the smartest choice.
“Yeah okay, but I swear, Callie, if this turns out bad you are naming that kid after me as a get well gift.”
“Ha! This one is all Calliopeia number two. Jack got his namesake, I need one too.”
“It’s a boy. I’m telling you it’s a boy. No offense, but a girl with a boy’s name? That’s just trendy. A boy with a girl’s name? That’s cruel and unusual.”
“Alright, Percival Reginald, if by the time this kid makes an appearance you are not in love and blissfully happy, I will consider this. Good enough?”
Not really, since I already heard her baby names and no way will Percival get anywhere near the top of that swanky list.
“Sure. Now remind me again why that psychic had chicken feet hanging from her ceiling….”
***
“Hello?”
The silence that greets me after I take the elevator up to the top floor of a very nice new apartment building is almost deafening after the doorman lets me into the penthouse-level mini mansion and leaves me alone in the entrance hall.
When another yelled hello gets me nothing but echoes and a shivery fear that has me longing for the days when I could pull a runner, I force myself to breathe and not see serial killers around every corner and actually look at this place.
Ugly. Filled with black marble floors that shine so much I can see a distorted image of myself when I look down.
I don’t like this place, I think as I force myself to walk forward in search of the kitchen. Okay, now this is not bad. I’m not really a fan of the minimalist kitchen either, but it’s new and shiny and I love the space-age-looking red toaster in the corner at least.
Astrid was very detailed in her instructions, so here I am at exactly seven, though God knows how I can cook an entire meal this late, looking around for the note she said would be here with further instructions.
When I find it pinned to the fridge and pull it off for closer inspection I feel momentarily surprised before a bubble of joy hits me and I start smiling widely.
“You seem okay with this. That’s good since I was still debating wearing a cup when you got here.”
I turn to look at Marks where he’s leaning against the archway entrance, his jeans, T-shirt and bare feet so sexy and laid back I have the immediate urge to lick him everywhere.
“I am strangely okay with this considering you made me feel bad all day because I couldn’t see you tonight.” I laugh, swallowing noisily when he shifts away from the arch and stalks my way, his bare feet silent as he comes towards me looking lustful, hot, and serious all at once.
He doesn’t respond to my teasing and just grabs me, making me gasp aloud when one hand goes under my butt and the other goes into my hair as he pulls me up and lowers his mouth at the same time.
I love kissing Marks and being kissed by him. He kisses like no other man I have ever had before and just turns me inside out with the first lick. He starts off slow, with little nibbles to my lips and some wicked gliding of closed mouths before setting in with intent and licking his way straight in.
It’s always wet and slippery in the best way because that’s just Marks. When he kisses he does it with everything in him, not to show his skill but rather to let me know that it drives him just a little crazy to have my mouth on his.
“You didn’t kiss me good-bye this morning. It messed with my whole day,” he rasps, sucking on my lips one after the other as we pull away slightly to regain our breaths.
“You were letting Indie flirt with you,” I groan, biting at his bottom lip and sucking the sting away as arousal, strong and intense, starts working its way through me.
“I wasn’t, I just didn’t know what to say to some of the crap she threw out at me.”
“Hmm, shut up and kiss me, Marks.”
I want and need him on and in every part of me as he continues the damnably slow kiss that’s making my toes and fingers curl, clawing at his back in desperation.
“Slow, babe.”
But I don’t want slow. I haven’t felt him in weeks since the night of Dot’s wedding. Kissing him and just thinking about the way we used to ignite together has my nerves thrumming, shooting tiny little electric zings of want to my core.
My breasts feel swollen and heavy, my nipples hard and pained with the need for his mouth, and everywhere else that I can focus on is just empty and crying out for this man.
It’s weird but now that I’ve decided to just let go, I can’t seem to stem what I’m feeling, what I need. It’s as if the dam of repressed emotions and physical needs has finally erupted and the only thing that can save me from drowning is Marks and the connection I crave with him.
“I want you so much it hurts.”
Gone is the Percy who is always in control and in her place is this open wound of raw and throbbing need. I’d be terrified if not for the knowledge that Marks is just as out of control as I am.
I feel it in the way his hands tremble slightly against my cheeks when he pulls away and stares into my eyes, his own green orbs sparking with such fierce want it makes me breathless to see it.
“I want you too but I promised myself I’d do this like a gentleman. Dinner first and then we can let go.”
“Screw that, buddy. Sex first and then we can eat and do all the girlie things your little heart needs.”
His smile would be scary if not for the groan he lets loose before digging both hands into my ass and hoisting me up and into the cradle of his thighs where his hard on is hot and pulsing.
“I can do that.”
I don’t notice that we’re moving until he lowers me to the bed and starts pulling at my clothes because I haven’t taken my eyes from his the whole time.
This connection I can’t shake, it’s strong and so arousing I keep the contact even as he slowly but surely pulls my clothes off and then starts on his own, not once breaking our stare to look down, though I can see it’s painful not to let his eyes wander.
I’ve never been shy or self-conscious, but even I have a moment of pause when he smiles and finally drops his last item of clothing, tearing his eyes away to look down at my naked body.
My belly is still flat thanks to yoga, but it’s not as tight as it once was, and neither are other parts of me. My size C boobs don’t have quite the same perkiness they once had, and my thighs aren’t exactly spot on with the shitty new gap trend that seems so popular nowadays.
“Goddammit, you’re still so fucking hot it makes my dick ache.” He breathes when I swallow my fear and spread my legs a little, trying to be the bold Percy now as opposed to the bundle of nerves I truly am.
Marks too has changed. He’s not one of those men that go soft anywhere. His abs are still ripped, his pecs and arms are still so muscled my hands itch to touch and squeeze every inch, and I’d bet good money I could bounce a quarter off his ass.
He just seems bigger somehow, as if whatever he’s been up to has made him bulkier. He also has a slight tan line across his biceps where his T-shirt sleeves end.
Why that should turn me on is a mystery but it does and I let him know this by licking my lips as I peruse his body. When I get down below his hips where his shaft is hard and standing at attention, shiny
droplets of lubrication oozing from the tip, it’s all I can do to lie still and give him the control I remember so well that he needs.
“You too. Touch me, Marks. Please.”
My words make his eyes spark and I expect him to fall on me and start touching and tasting like a madman, but he surprises me and makes me moan my delight when instead he drops to his knees beside the bed and runs a reverent hand from my throat to the valley between my breasts and back again, the rough tickle of his fingertips making me mewl my surrender.
My nipples peak even more and I see his mouth go slack when my legs fall open wider and the moisture I feel meets his gaze. No, I may not be one hundred percent okay with my body anymore, but I remember how wild my lack of inhibitions made him and I want to give him that no matter how I feel about myself.
“I want to do so much to you right now. I don’t know where to start.”
“Anywhere, start anywhere. Just please start,” I plead, undulating as his hand slides up and cups my cheek.
I get another slow, toe-curling kiss before he comes down on the bed beside me and settles his hips away from me. That hand is a torturous, merciless tool of perfection as he starts stroking me with just his fingertips, running them over my skin, from my chin to the very top of my mound and back up again, glancing over my tight buds and repeating until I’m nothing but a mess of moaning and rocking hips.
“I used to dream about touching you like this and just taking my time with every inch of you. I’d wake up trying to remember if your skin was this soft or whether your nipples were really this pink. I used to jerk off to the smell of the panties you left at my place one time. I never washed them, just kept them until I couldn’t smell you on them anymore.”
My groan is a heartfelt mewl of begging need as those fingers start drawing slow circles around the crest of one nipple, only to move on and torture the other.
It feels so good I have no control over myself as I push closer and search for something, anything to anchor me against the tide bombarding me.
“And this.”
I do more than just moan when his hand cups my sex suddenly and presses hard, his fingers burrowing in and applying pressure to my slit and just over my clit where I’m pulsing.
THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series Page 42
