“Don’t cry. I’m here now, right?” I mumble, just realizing the part where she said she doesn’t remember what happened last night and it is now up to me to tell her.
Shit, I should have taken Indie up on her offer of that damn cup, it’s just that I don’t trust her not to lend me a used cup that held crab-infested balls.
“You are here. Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing here? How did we end up in bed together, and dammit, Marks, what happened to ‘it’s the man’s job to cover up,’ huh? Do you have any idea how much stuff was on my junk this morning! I almost had a freaking heart attack when I thought I slept with some herpes stranger. Where were you? Who leaves a woman alone in a strange room after sex?”
I breathe through the need to start laughing as she pushes away and starts railing at me, her breasts bobbing with every hand gesture as she cuts me down to size and attacks my manhood and decency before launching herself at me in a blubbering mess of arms and bony knees.
“Don’t leave me again. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just so scared that you’d see that I don’t have anything to offer and it freaked me out.”
My fight not to laugh is lost when she slaps me upside the head suddenly and huffs.
“I opened a business selling my own designs and costume jewelry to little boutiques that carry limited lines.”
“I know, babe.” I chuckle, falling onto the sofa and stretching her out over me. “I’ve known since you started. I was trying to give you some space to get settled before I came to you, but damn woman, you sure do take your time.”
Percy giggles a little and wipes her nose against my chest before peeking up at me with a worried frown.
“I kinda love you, Marks. You know that, right?”
Thank God. Because I love her so much my life sucks without her.
“I love you too. A lot. And I am so sorry for the shit I said to you, babe. I was hurt that you didn’t want me and angry and I just lost it when I thought you only wanted me to get back at me for the past.”
Her sheepish grin and twisting of lips makes me frown and I feel myself sigh as she just stares down at me.
“Percy.”
“I only thought that in the beginning before you turned out to be so cool and lovable, I swear. I just, I was carrying around a teeny bit of residual resentment, Marks, so just get over it already because I decided I’m keeping you and you can’t say no because I won’t let you.”
“Good because that’s all done and at and end, Percy. From here on out we are together, end of story. I don’t care what you say. Oh, and by the way, from what Freddie told me earlier, I don’t have to propose.”
“What?!”
Chapter Fifteen
When You Know, You Know
Percy
“Stop it!”
“No you stop it.”
“No you.”
“You.”
“You!” Indie yells when I go to pin her skirt and get a knee to the face for my efforts.
It’s officially two months since Marks married me and swept me off my feet to this amazing house that is currently not quite finished but had me decorating before I could stop myself.
Dreams, my clothing line, and Gems, my costume jewelry line, has really taken off. Enough so that I’ve paid Marks back half of the money he tried to foist off on me under nefarious and dodgy means, and hired my third employee.
It’s not the overnight success type of thing yet. I’m never going to be stinking rich like Marks, but I’m doing good right now and I’m a month away from me and Marks finally moving into our dream home with a view of the bay.
I’m not too happy to report that my marriage turned out to be a complete lie perpetrated by my family to make me see what I needed before I totally “ballsed it up,” as Gruffy keeps saying. Even now. Weeks later.
This is why I’m currently being kicked to death by a mule with tattoos and a bad attitude. In two days I’ll be tying the knot in Gruffy’s church and I still have to get mouthy moaner over here to agree to the lilac bridesmaid dresses that I’ve designed and handstitched with love and a lot of cursing.
“Indie, I swear to God if you kick me again I will drop these pins and tell Woody that you have a mondo crush on his uptight ass,” I warn, curling my lip to emphasise my seriousness.
She, of course, snarls back at me before folding her arms and tapping her booted foot with a sigh.
“It’s not a crush, just a stupid like that will so fade.”
“After a year? Puh-lease, girl,” I snort, hating that she still won’t talk to me about it.
Especially after she tried to ask him out to drinks and he invited all the Days and a woman who licked his ear all night.
Gross. Have you seen what comes out of ears? I wouldn’t lick Marks’s ear if he paid me and I love the man.
“Shut up and fix this ugly-ass dress so I can get to work before Callie and Luci have a meltdown. I need to make pie for some new money fat cat up on the hills, and I need to deliver them tomorrow by six before his wife wants her birthday breakfast.”
“This dress is not ugly and you can bake pies in an hour, I’ve seen you do it. Stop trying to freaking avoid me and just talk to me already!” I yell, poking her with a pin on purpose when she sniffs and looks away.
“I don’t want to talk about this, Percy. Just give it a rest, okay? I’m more interested in what’s going on with you and Marks lately. That man has been grinning from ear to ear all week and I swear I saw him talking to strangers when I drove by Gruffy’s yesterday.”
Dammit. He keeps telling perfect strangers about our life and love and the freaking secret that isn’t going to be a secret that much longer at the rate he’s going. Freaking men.
“Well let’s see. Edie and Astrid did one of those binding ceremonies in Tahiti. Finn went with—you should know since you haven’t had him for boning practice lately. My parents ran away from me on the street yesterday and I almost cracked a rib laughing when Dad tripped and took Mom down with him. Funniest shit I have ever witnessed. Oh and since Marks is spreading the news, I’m pregnant.”
The squeal she lets out before she tackles me to the floor and starts kissing my face is cheerleader worthy and I’m wetting myself by the time Marks and Woody stroll in and stand staring down at us, grinning lewdly.
“Girl-on-girl action? Is this what you get up to when you tell me you’re working, babe?”
“Oh hush you and get this squealing piglet off me already. She’s tried to tongue me already and you know that’s all for you, baby.”
“Asshole,” Indie mutters between giggles, jumping up to let Marks sweep in and rescue me. “I am so telling Gruff you lied about the raincoats. Big trouble.”
I don’t care as my fiancé picks me up and kisses me breathless, his smile so big and bright I feel myself melt all over the place.
Who would have thought that a few months ago I would be here? Not me. I’ve gone from disillusioned and jaded cook who used to have a different man for every night to pregnant, engaged, and so happily in love I feel like I could sing a Britney song without even caring that Indie’s here to rib me.
I’ve come so far and there is so much more to do, but I’m definitely happy.
“When we get home I’m going to…” he whispers the rest in my ear and I shiver and feel myself go hot all over at the thought of that tongue on me.
“You’re so, so naughty, Marks.” I giggle, my eyes going dreamy and low when he rubs my ass with promise.
“That’s good because you’re my Naughty Percy Leighton, and I—”
“Oh vomit. Cut it out, you pervs, we have a wedding to get through first.”
Oh Indie, your turn is coming, babe. And it’s coming fast.
Chapter Sixteen
Last One Standing
Indie
The burn of a shot of bourbon going down has me gasping and grinning at Louie, the bartender, as he chuckles and pours me another. The next is just as satisfying and I get a top up as
I feel the last of my legs go numb and accept the sweet numbness I’ve been craving for weeks.
With my back to the bar and a more than decent buzz shivering through my system, I turn to the table filled with the Days and toast them before slamming my shot down and stumbling toward them, a bright grin on my face as I fall into a seat and have to be saved by Tuesday, who’s only slightly less drunk than I am and looking so fine in his work clothes, tie pulled down and sleeves rolled up. I kinda see what Percy saw in the man.
He’s a little sad, true, but I bet a good rocking could loosen up all that sorrow now that Percy has moved on to wedded bliss and her prefect house with her perfect man.
I’m a little jealous. I just feel left behind as the last of the dying breed once known as Naughties, and trust me, its cold out here all by myself with no one to hang with unless Callie gets pissed at Jack and decides to teach him a lesson.
That doesn’t happen all that often lately since the man all but cries and follows her around like a puppy, so in short it’s just me and what I now consider my new crew—the Days.
“Hey, Indie baby! You’re letting loose tonight, huh?” Monday yells over the karaoke screecher up on stage.
“It’s Friday, baby, and Mama needs to get loose and happy,” I yell back, falling into Tuesday’s chest when my head feels about ready to just drop off and roll out the door.
I’m the wild one, although lately I’m not sure whether I’m more wild or desperate. Since Callie, Luci, Dot, and Percy all found love and left me behind, I feel as if everything that once made me feel good about myself is just ashes all around me.
Not that it lasts. I mean, come on. I like partying and getting drunk and doing crazy things. I need that release after having to deal with the other side of my life and living a dream that is not mine.
This is my thing, the one thing that has always stood me in good stead with my inner hater and I need it.
More lately since I went and fell hard for a guy who doesn’t even see me. How ridiculous is that? I mean look at me! I’m blonde, busty, and I have legs that go on for miles, and Woody freaking Jones thinks it’s okay to just look past me every freaking time.
It’s hurtful and a knock to the good old self-esteem every time I try to come on to the man and end up being friend-zoned because all he sees is a wild girl with tattoos and a drinking problem, which by the way is not true.
I have never and probably will never need to drink to be happy. The only time I really let loose, unbeknownst to my people, is when I’m feeling the way I do now.
Forgotten. Abandoned. Unwanted.
It’s not a foreign concept after growing up in a foster home and enduring some of the things that made me see the world as a trash heap, but it still hurts.
Especially when the people I love the most have all moved on and all that’s left for me is a group of guys who think I’m just a party girl and a man who brings a date to our date.
Percy told me just yesterday on the phone that I shouldn’t give up but she doesn’t understand.
Her spiel was Marks leaving her? He came back!
Woody doesn’t even see me unless it’s to sneer at my tattoos and make some shitty comment about a pot habit I do not have. What? Like it’s my fault my friends mistook those herbal cigarettes the chines doctor gave me when I had a head cold.
Yeah, I know that sounds weird but it worked.
And now everyone thinks I’m a raging pothead, a tattoo junkie, and an alcoholic when most nights all I do is sit at home and play Call of Duty with some guy in Japan.
I’m more boring than I should be lately, and all because that sonofabitch Woody has taken to frequenting my bar, stealing my friends, all while hitting on cheap ass while I sit in the corner and try to drink myself into a coma or poisoning at least.
“Yo! You still with us, babe?” Thursday laughs, clicking his fingers beneath my nose just as the king himself stumbles to our table, the blonde he was chatting up stomping her foot and huffing away.
“Shit, that last beer was one too many,” he slurs, falling right onto me before righting himself and plonking into the chair beside me. “Oh hey, Indie!”
Figures he’d notice me the one night I’m too drunk to do anything but look over at him and belch.
“Careful, she’s a projectile vomiter, this one.” Someone laughs, making me sneer and flip them the bird.
I’m drunk off my ass but not even this amount of alcohol can induce me to want to torture myself with this after a long shitty day and a very bad phone call with that asshole who thinks she’s my mom.
“I’m out, guys. Remember to call cabs.”
That’s what I say but it sounds more like I’m talking in tongues as I stagger to my feet and wobble my way towards the door. The spring air that hits me is so crisp I feel my head swim and send me teetering before I manage to right myself and squint into the darkness to flag down a cab.
I almost scream my head off when a heavy hand lands on my shoulder and I twist my head to see Woody behind me, drunkenly waving a hand towards the car he has on standby.
“Hey, babe, I’ll drive you home.”
“No thanks.”
“I insist,” he says, holding on to my arm as the car stops in front of us and the driver pops out to open the door.
“Oh what the hell.”
The truth is I’d probably die on the street before I get a cab at this time of night without calling, and this ride is free.
The car is actually one of those limo things with a privacy glass that slides up and I see the partition rise slowly before we’re closed off and alone in the back.
“Hey, Indie? You ever wonder what it is about us that other people don’t seem to want?” he slurs, making my lip tremble.
I could answer him in so many different ways right now and I should, but all I have in me as my chest tightens is a sneer and a shrug that has me keeling over into his lap. Face-first.
That makes me laugh, hard, because who would have ever guessed I’d end up with my mouth on Woody’s wood? Not me!
I can’t get up, though, and I’m not just saying that to make this seem like an accident while I privately violate him. I’m seriously unable to even move an inch as my brain blinks on and off for a few seconds.
He saves me, thank God, because I was getting a little oxygen deprived there, and pulls me up and onto his lap, the hard ridge of an erection hitting me in the ass as I flop over him and stare up into his eyes.
“I think it’s because I’ve been looking so hard that I keep missing the one, ya know?”
“Or maybe you just think the wrong ones are the one?” I mutter, my eyes going wide when he leans in closer and breathes against my lips.
“Yeah, I dunno. All I can say is I’m horny and tired of being alone.”
Yeah. You can say that again.
“You wanna help each other out tonight, Indie? Be my cuddle buddy so I don’t have to go home alone and sleep in that lonely bed again?”
His words freeze my zinging brain, and while I can’t say I sober up at all, I do start seeing things with a crystal clarity that feels so right at the moment.
Yeah. Why can’t we be cuddle buddies and help each other out?
My mind tries to yell something at me but I shut that out as my eyes hit his lips and I feel my sex heat and clench around the emptiness I’ve been feeling for all too long.
I want his kiss and his hands all over me, playing with me like I’m a treasure he can’t get enough of. I want, for just one night, to pretend that he actually wants me—the tattooed chick with a foul mouth.
I want him inside me. All around me. Just once so that I can finally prove to myself that I’m not that little girl nobody wants.
“Sure. Sex. I can do sex,” I purr against his lips, licking at the lush curves with a smile that drops off immediately when his mouth crashes down on mine in a drunken, sloppy, hot flash of mind-numbing sensuality.
The man can kiss like a pro and we’re hot and he
avy in seconds and tearing at each other’s clothes as I straddle his lap and shove my skirt up around my hips.
Some part of me knows this is a bad idea but I don’t care when he rips my bra off and sucks one of my nipples into his mouth while shoving a hand in my panties.
“Oh, yes,” I moan when one finger goes deep and another starts playing with my hard, throbbing clit.
The motion is quick and hurried and so raw it adds just that touch of illicitness to what we’re doing to each other.
“Touch me, Indie. Oh fuck yes, babe, take him out and stroke him,” he moans into my mouth when I unzip him and wrestle his dick out of his boxers.
He’s so hot and big that I gasp and clench around his finger at just this one touch. I can’t stop myself when I shove his hand away, rip the crotch of my panties, and impale myself on every pulsing inch.
My hips start thrashing all on their own.
Woody grunts and grabs on to my hips with a steely fingered grip that bites into my skin as he pulls me into his upward thrust, his shaft spearing deep and hard, hitting me inside in a place I’ve never felt anyone else hit.
“Shit that feels so good, babe. Yes, take me deeper. Ah, don’t stop.”
I can’t, not now. Not when I feel like I might break apart at any moment if he doesn’t give me what my body craves, even as I grind and ride him so intimately I can’t stop myself from wanting more.
More pleasure, more closeness, just more of this thing that I’ve wanted for so long it feels like I’ve loved him for years instead of the few short months I’ve known him.
It’s pathetic and sad and probably a hundred other things I won’t let myself feel or think about right now, because for just now, just this one moment, I want to pretend that the man staring up at me loves me in some special way.
Every touch and thrust comes with my fool heart wanting to believe that he feels something, and every kiss and nibble to my lips has me warming inside in a way that is only spurred on by drunken sorrow and foolish hope.
THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series Page 48
