Vice

by L. M. Pruitt

  “Ms. Jackson?” Kitty’s question came out on a tentative whisper and I found myself wondering if she ever spoke in anything else. The second I looked at her, she started wringing her hands, a habit I was already determined to break her of. “I don’t have to go if it’s a problem. I can stay here.”

  “After the headache I went through last night, you’re going, even if I have to drag your ass to the car.” I winced and shook my head. “Which was probably the wrong thing to say, all things considered, but you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She gave a shy smile, the first one I’d seen from her, and I realized she had twin dimples. “I do. And if you’re sure it’s not a bother—.”

  “Kitty, I told you it wasn’t.” Tammy stalked over, giving her friend a gentle shove toward the door. Apparently, my niece took her shopping very, very seriously. “You get a window seat because you know you have a tendency to get sick randomly.”

  “Yes, she should definitely be next to the window.” Abraham held out his arm, flashing Kitty a smile. “And I know this is terribly old fashioned but I would feel so much better if you would allow me to escort you down the stairs. Just to be on the safe side and all.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and snort at the over the top gallantry, hefting my overnight bag in one hand and the suitcase the two younger kids were sharing in the other. “Anybody who’s going—which is everybody—better get in the car. This party bus is leaving in the next five minutes.”

  IT TOOK CLOSER to ten which was annoying but not as annoying as the fact that what should have been a five hour drive, six tops, turned in to something closer to eight. By the time we reached the hotel and checked in, my nerves were completely shot, Dolly and Conway were tired and whiny, Tammy was cranky about having to wait until tomorrow to do any serious shopping, and Kitty was on the verge of tears for no other reason than hormones. The only person who seemed to be at least somewhat okay was Abraham and as soon as the connecting door shut, I hurled a pillow at him. He caught it one handed and blinked.

  “Okay. Maybe you’d like to tell me why you’re throwing things at me.”

  “Because you’re so calm and I wanted to see if there was anything which would fuck that up.” I flopped face down on the bed and groaned. “And apparently, there isn’t.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that.” The mattress dipped a moment before I felt his lips on the nape of my neck, his muffled chuckle sliding through my body like chilled tequila. “There are a few things you do which disrupt that calm demeanor you’re so unhappy with me having.”

  “The kids are going to want dinner here in a few minutes.” It was important to remember the kids because if I didn’t there was a good chance we were never leaving the hotel room. Hell, we wouldn’t even leave the bed. I rolled over, laughing when he took the opportunity to settle between my jean-clad legs. “Abraham, seriously. We locked the door but that doesn’t mean they won’t beat it down if they decide they want in here.”

  “Is sex all you think about, Jeannie Jackson?” He scraped his teeth over my jaw, humming low in his throat when I arched toward him. “Maybe I just want to make out with you for a little bit. You ever think about that?”

  “Huh?” Despite my earlier admonition, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him tighter against me. The man had the most incredible mouth. If I wasn’t careful, I’d wind up addicted. “Make out? Like teenagers?”

  “Maybe a little dirtier than that but... yeah, essentially.” He popped open the top button on my shirt, leaning down and pressing his lips to the flushed skin there. “I think it would be a good idea to keep some clothes on but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

  “Right.” I pulled his shirt free from his pants, both of us sighing when my hands slid up his back. “So like freshman in college level make out session.”

  “I forgot you did the whole college experience thing.” He flipped open another button, exposing the top of my bra, sliding one finger under the lace hem. “I didn’t, so you’re going to have to teach me what smart college girls like.”

  My laugh trailed off in to a groan when his tongue followed the path of his fingers. “I think you’re doing just fine on your own.”

  “Still, I’m just some local boy who never went anywhere or did anything and you’ve been lots of places. Done lots of things.” He nipped at the curve of one breast and then the other, his breathing turning nearly as ragged as mine. “So I need you to teach me, Jeannie Jackson.”

  “Is this some sort of roleplay thing or....” I trailed off, losing my train of thought when he unhooked the button on my jeans and eased the zipper down. “Abraham. The kids.”

  “I’ll be quiet if you be quiet.” He shifted upward, sinking his teeth in to the sensitive skin over my escalating pulse. “I just spent eight hours in a car not able to do anything more than look at you. I can’t wait any longer.”

  “We have to.” Even as I protested, I was fumbling with his pants, my fingers suddenly thick and clumsy. “The kids—.”

  “Are behind a locked door. We’ll be quiet. And quick.” He tugged my jeans down just past my hips, his own movements jerky. “I need you, Jeannie.”

  “Damn you.” I yanked his pants down, wrapping one hand around his cock and stroking, slow at first and then faster, as he slipped one finger inside my cunt, already wet and aching. I arched toward him, swallowing back a moan. “I hate you for this.”

  “I hate you a little bit, too.” His hair fell forward, brushing my cheek as he crushed his mouth to mine. Pulling back, he rasped out, “Please.”

  “God.” Almost blind with desire, I pulled him toward me, a whimper dying in my throat when the head of his cock brushed against my folds. He gripped my wrist, dragging my hand away as he twisted his hips, burying his full length inside me with one thrust. We both froze, our bodies taut with tension, before simply going lax, like butter left too long in the sun. I hooked my free arm around his shoulders, sighing as I rolled my hips to pull him deeper. “It’s not supposed to be like this.”

  “I know.” He pressed my wrist to the mattress and used his other hand to do the same to my hips, his thrusts already harsh to the point of bruising. “So I have to hate you a little bit or....”

  “Or what?” I dug my nails in to his shoulder, the impact blunted by his shirt. I was already so close to an orgasm I could almost taste it, every muscle straining for the sort of release poets wrote about. “Abraham.”

  “Not yet.” He shook his head, his next words coming out on what I would have called a sob if it’d been anyone else. “Don’t make me say it yet, Jeannie Jackson.”

  Because I felt some of that desperation, that feeling I was standing on some sort of ledge, steps away from falling in to an abyss I wouldn’t be able to climb out of, I simply nodded, turning my head and taking his lips with mine. Less than a dozen thrusts later, the orgasm I’d been chasing turned and crashed in to me, the surge of endorphins wiping out all sound and sight for long moments before I slumped back against the mattress. Abraham collapsed on top of me, his body still quaking with his own release, the hard jerk of his hips against mine wringing another, smaller orgasm from me.

  For a few minutes, the only sound in the room was our ragged breathing. Abraham cleared his throat, his lips still pressed to my slowing pulse. “I don’t hate you. But I do.”

  “I know.” I stared at the ceiling, waiting to feel the usual urge to get up and get out, worried when it didn’t come. “I don’t hate you, either. But I do. I have to, a little.”

  Or there was a good chance I wouldn’t just fall in to the abyss.

  I’d throw myself there, arms wide open.

  And I had a feeling Abraham Hansom wasn’t the sort of vice you walked away from without a few scars.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Fifteen minutes later, I was soaking in the oversized tub, my head propped up by a rolled towel, when someone knocked on the door, opening it without waiting for me to answer. Dol
ly tumbled in to the room, drawing up short and frowning at me. “Adults don’t take bubble baths.”

  “I’m not sure where you heard such a horrible thing but I promise you, it’s nothing but a lie.” I huffed out a breath, trying to dislodge the piece of hair sticking to my forehead and failing miserably. “For some reason, I don’t think you charged in here to critique my method of personal hygiene.”

  She stared at me for a moment before bursting in to one of her full-out belly laughs and I couldn’t hold back an answering grin. Trailing off, she said, “You’re funny, Aunt Jeannie.”

  “One of my few redeeming qualities.” I lifted my brows, jiggling my foot and causing the thin layer of bubbles to dance. “What’s up, Dolly?”

  “Me and Conway are hungry. And Kitty.” She plopped down on the floor next to the tub, resting her chin on the ledge. “Tammy says she isn’t but she always says that because she doesn’t want to get fat because people will make fun of her.”

  “Tammy is going to give herself an ulcer one of these days if she doesn’t stop caring so much what people think about her.” I stretched out my legs, flexing my calves and sighing. “Okay. Let me finish up in here and get dressed and then we’ll go get some dinner. Maybe walk around for a little bit.”

  “Why would we walk around just to walk around?” Dolly frowned, looking so much like her mother that I had another one of those little stabs of grief. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

  “And I bet in Cotton Creek it isn’t but this is Savannah.” I inclined my head toward the door. “There’s a world of difference between the two.”

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, the six of us were sitting at one of the better tables in Betty Bombers and I let out a happy sigh when the server set a glass of sweet tea in front of me. “Elise, you’re an angel.”

  “You’re only saying that because I brought you tea and I’m going to bring you food.” Still, my favorite waitress beamed at me, as fresh faced and bright at four in the afternoon as she no doubt had been at four in the morning, her expression sobering as she glanced at the kids. “Bill came by and told us what was going on. Sorry to hear about your sister. We took up a collection and sent some flowers for the funeral.”

  “I saw them, they were beautiful. Thank you.” And the simple gesture from a group of people I knew only tangentially had meant more than ninety percent of the covered dishes the neighbors and church congregation had forced on us. Clearing my throat in an effort to force the lump of emotion back in to place, I said, “Since none of them have been here before, we’re probably going to need a few minutes.”

  “Oh, no worries, Jeannie.” Elise waved a hand absently around the full restaurant. “You know we love having you here. Y’all take all the time you need. Let me get your drinks first and then I’ll scoot off until you’re ready.”

  “Either you’re the best tipper in the world or you’re secretly a very nice person.” Abraham draped his arm over the back of my chair, resting his hand on my shoulder. “You get bumped to the top of the wait list, the server remembers your order even though it has to be close to a month since you’ve been here, and the entire staff sent flowers to your sister’s funeral.”

  “I did a piece on them when I did the local edition of the magazine. It brought in a lot of business.” I shrugged, resisting the urge to scoot closer and lean my head against his shoulder. For one, we were in public and I’d never been a huge fan of people who felt the need to suck face in crowded spaces. For another, it was too much of a couple thing and I still didn’t know quite what the hell we were doing with each other. “And I suppose I tip well but not outrageously well.”

  “Me and Conway are ready.” Dolly bounced in her seat, so full of energy it actually made me tired just watching her, and I was glad I’d vetoed her request for soda and insisted on water. “We’re ready, Aunt Jeannie.”

  “ ‘Conway and I’, Dolly.” I corrected her without thinking about it, my attention on the menu even though I knew it like the back of my hand. I was torn between tacos and a burger and was trying to come up with a valid reason why I couldn’t have both. “And that’s great. We have to wait for everybody else, though.”

  “Tammy’s going to get a salad because that’s all she ever gets.” Under my lashes, I watched as Dolly stuck her tongue out at her sister and had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Salad and egg whites and no butter on anything.”

  Kitty giggled, covering her hand with her mouth. “She’s right, Tammy. That’s all you eat these days.”

  “I told you, I’m going to get kicked off the cheerleading squad if I don’t make the weigh-in.” Tammy sipped her water, her expression mild even though she was busy tearing her napkin in to tiny, ragged pieces. “Tina Anne said so and—.”

  “Unless things have changed since I was in high school, students don’t have final say on who is and isn’t allowed to participate in extracurricular, the staff advisor is, and I can promise you, the only staff advisor who would be stupid enough to put a weight restriction on something besides wrestling is the one who is dying to get sued for discrimination.” I reached across the table, resting my hand on her busy ones and squeezing until the frantic movements stilled. “If you want to lose weight because you’re trying to be healthy, then I won’t say anything. None of us will. But if you’re doing it because some stuck-up twit with a God-complex is saying you have to... that’s where I have a problem.”

  “She can’t kick me off the squad if I weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds?” Tammy chewed on her lower lip, the distress in her eyes obvious and heartbreaking and infuriating. “Really?”

  “Is that what she told you?” When Tammy nodded, I clenched my jaw, sucking air between my teeth. Turning to Abraham, I said, “Do you happen to know the principal of the school?”

  “If memory serves, he’s something like my third cousin. Maybe fourth.” Abraham shrugged. “The exact relationship eludes me at the moment.”

  “Then I don’t suppose you have his phone number on you.”

  “I don’t but I’m sure my mother does.” He flashed me a quick, hot grin, the barbell in his eyebrow glinting as he arched his brow. “As a matter of fact, unless I’m mistaken, my mother is an honorary member of the Parent-Teacher Association.”

  “I’m not going to ask why she’s an honorary member but I am going to shamelessly beg you to call her and get her to do something about the cheerleading situation before it turns in to Heathers or Jawbreakers or Mean Girls.” I fluttered my lashes at him, smiling when all the kids, even Tammy, broke in to giggles. “I’ll totally owe you. Like, a big one.”

  “If that was your attempt to talk like a teenager, it sucked, but it was strangely endearing.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over mine, his grin widening. “I won’t tell you how I intend to collect this particular debt, what with the kids being here and all, but I can promise you, I will collect.”

  “Right.” Appalled at the breathless note in my voice, I cleared my throat, sighing in relief as I spotted Elise making her way over to us with drinks. “Okay, who’s ready to order?”

  “YOU SHOULD HAVE warned me.”

  “Hmm?” I glanced up from my phone, blinking a few seconds to clear away the daze before focusing on Abraham, who looked tired, harried, and still gorgeous. “Warned you about what?”

  “For some reason, I thought this was going to be quick.” He plopped down on the chaise next to me only to twist and turn until he was able to stretch out, his head in my lap. “You know, hit a store or two, get a few pairs of jeans, a few shirts, some socks—.”

  “You’re adorable.” I patted his shoulder absently, my attention drifting back to my phone. “Two teenage girls, one of them pregnant, and two kids in elementary school. There was no way we were going to be done in a couple of hours. It’s why I didn’t argue when you suggested an overnight trip.”

  “Still, you could have warned me.” He sighed and closed his eyes, resting one hand on mine, holding it in plac
e. “You’re just racking up one debt after another here, Jeannie Jackson.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Huh?” I blinked a few more times, annoyed at the constant switching of internal gears. “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s what I’m asking you.” He reached up with his free hand, brushing his fingers over my mouth. “You’re frowning.”

  “No, I’m not.” Although I could feel my features shifting in to that particular expression as we spoke. “And even if I was, I’m not required to smile all the time, Mr. Hansom.”

  “Now that’s just cruel, calling me that in public when you know what it does to me.” He sat up, propping his chin on my shoulder, waiting until I turned to face him before continuing. “Something’s bothering you and it’s as plain as the stupidly cute nose on your face. I’m asking you to share with me.”

  “Abraham.” I broke off, shifting my gaze to the ceiling and sighing. I’d watched enough television and read enough books and had enough human interaction to know communication was key to any relationship—even one which may or may not have technically been a relationship since we’d never actually said what the hell we were doing. And yet it was a struggle to not tell him to mind his own damn business and remind him I’d been solving problems long before I’d stumbled in to his bar and bed. Huffing out a breath, I said, “Nothing’s wrong, not really. I just need to do some copy editing on some of the articles and it’s difficult to do that kind of work on my phone.”

  “Because it’s labor intensive or because of the size of the screen?”

  “Both, and before you say anything, I know I need glasses.” I rubbed my temples, annoyed at myself for being drawn in to conversation when I should have been working. “I have a prescription, I just haven’t had time to get a pair made.”

  “You know you can do all that on the Internet, right? And have the glasses shipped directly to your house?” When I scowled at him, he simply smiled. “Trying to offer helpful suggestions, darlin’, and not crap.”