by Dani Stowe
“Ah jeez,” he chokes. “No, I want to have a baby with you.”
My eyebrows and my forehead hurt, unable to contain the look of surprise that I’m sure is plastered across my face. My eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out their sockets. My jaw drops. My lips go round. “Oooh... Do you now?”
He curls my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Oooh... I do,” he repeats after me, nodding sarcastically, but his demeanor changes when I don’t answer. “Sooooooo... What. Do. You. Think?”
I’m not sure what to think. Elliot has a lot of stuff he deals with. Stuff he prioritizes over others. “I could come off the pill but...”
“But?”
“What about NIM?”
“What about NIM?” His tone is low. Serious. Heavy as it always is on the topic of his friends.
“NIM scares me.”
He chortles, “NIM is the last thing you should ever be afraid of and, honestly, once NIM collects all of its intended assets, which I suspect will be soon. I can probably retire.”
“Retire?” I laugh. “You’re too young.”
“What’s the matter? Are you not interested in having me at home changing diapers?”
My lips fall into a flat line. “You can change all the diapers.”
Elliot lets out a sigh of relief. “I’m fine with that. It’s just biology, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” I nod.
“Do you now?” He smirks and rolls me over so I’m flat on my back then lays on top of me. His eyes twinkle knowing he’s pinned me, unable to escape, but it gets me thinking...
“Aren’t you supposed to be working on your formula? Isn’t that the reason we came up here?”
“My formula already worked itself out.”
I’m afraid to ask. “And what formula was that?”
“Me plus you plus pencil in the Bank.”
I should’ve known.
“So, you’ve been planning this evening all along?”
Elliot dips his head to lick in my navel and I giggle, gripping his hair. “Mhm,” he agrees with a tongued-out smile.
Why am I not surprised?
I massage his skull. “I never stood a chance against you and your big brain, did I?”
“Me?” Elliot snakes his hands up my sides, grips my elbows, and lies my arms flat above my head. He grabs one breast and bites the opposite nipple. His eyes—eyes that have followed me deliciously throughout my entire life—glance up. “You’ve always stood a chance against me. Just not my equation.”
Oh boy. It always comes down to science with him. “And what equation is that?”
“You equals mine.”
End of Book 1
DOWN HER
Chapter 1
Jaxon
Two.
Two beautiful, deep set, emerald green eyes wander between a crowd of bobbling city-street heads.
Ursula Chandler. I must follow her.
I keep my distance. I don’t want to be seen though I like to watch. I watch Ursula as I sometimes do, as I’ve done since high school.
I follow from behind observing the curled tendrils of the beautiful brunette fly behind her as she bounces through the busy streets of the city.
She moves swiftly. It makes my heart race and I feel like I’m in the middle of a chase.
Oh, the thought I might finally get my paws on her...
I pause, gripping my hips to take a quick breather.
She’s getting me excited!
Ursula was supposed to have a meeting with Nick this morning, but he stood her up—kept her waiting in his office for nearly an hour until she finally left. She has an appointment with me in another hour and I’m desperate to know if she’s even going to show up. If she doesn’t, I’m going to have to pop the Bang before she’s out of my life and I’ll be back to being nothing more than an observer. Forever. Again.
I stealthily follow behind Ursula’s long legs leading her towards a hot dog stand. I stop, leaning against the corner of a building to get comfortable and airing my shirt with a pull on my collar before tucking my hands in my gray pant pockets.
“Hi,” smiles a young amber-eyed redhead, batting her eyes and slowing her strut as she crosses my line of sight.
“G’day,” I smile in return then let my gaze wander back to Ursula. The redhead detects my observation of someone else, so she sighs and moves on.
Ursula smiles brilliantly as she is handed her hot dog. Her smile still makes my chest tingle.
Once she’s finished pumping her condiments of ketchup and mustard to drop sloppily over the wiener, she manages to find a seat at a small wrought iron black bistro table. Her pretty ass fits snugly in the knee length black pencil skirt, which matches her blazer atop a crisp white button-up blouse. I smile to myself as I enjoy seeing the fabric of her skirt pull tight across her bottom as Ursula bends to sit in the chair.
“Hiya,” says another woman, blonde, approaching in a white chiffon top and slate gray fitted skirt with a black scarf wrapped round her neck. “Look at us,” she stops to chuckle. “We match.”
Tilting my head down, I notice the blonde’s gaze glazes over my dark ash-brown hair, cinnamon brown eyes, and poorly shaven face. Not shaving was intentional knowing I’d run into my first love who I recall likes things a little dirty.
I peep down at my similarly colored ensemble—dark gray suit, white shirt, with black tie and give the blonde a look over as well. “We do match, don’t we?” I chuckle then fix my gaze deliberately back on Ursula to become enraptured once more.
I hear the blonde swallow before she shuffles her feet, walking onward.
I stand up straight.
My heart palpates.
Ursula Chandler is about to take a bite out of her hot dog!
Her mouth opens wide and the second the bun goes into her mouth, I’m reminiscing about the last night we were together. It was the night of the fire...
She was panting—hard. Ursula’s cherry gloss-covered mouth was wide open, and I was afraid sparks flying about the scene were going to land right onto her pretty pink tongue poking out as she panted. Her two striking green eyes were also wide with worry. She wouldn’t immediately stretch her arms up to me. I figured she thought I wouldn’t be able to help her—too short and skinny. I had to snap at her to do what I wanted.
Adrenaline raged in my throat. “Reach for me!”
When Ursula finally overextended her elbows after I yelled at her a bit more, with every bit of strength I could muster from my skinny body, I pulled the girl into the attic. I surprised even myself that I could lift her and I’m still proud of the kid I was for being so brave.
I was the second to pull one of the four girls to safety. Ursula turned out to be a lot heavier than I thought. She was taller than me back then, almost a whole head, but I somehow managed to use what little muscle I had fueled by adrenaline and maybe hormones to pull the beautiful dame into the attic where she clung to me.
Smoke was sneaking up through the hole, which Elliot had smashed in with a jack hammer—the electrical cord stretching all the way to his house. We could feel the heat from the fire beyond the bedroom, trying to infiltrate through the cracks and, although we could not see any flames yet, we each felt like we were baking. Ursula was sweating worse than I was and she kept coughing right in my face between whines and whimpers of fear.
Ursula Chandler was hardly the type I’d ever think to succumb to fear. She was popular, smart, and the sporty type, playing tennis for the high school team. The girl had everything—smarts and wealthy parents. But her popularity was attributed to her attractiveness.
She seemed even prettier during the rescue, her wavy locks stuck to her damp forehead. She was desperate, desperate to be saved, desperate for me, and her vulnerability made me, of course, eager to help.
Once I rescued her, sirens resounded in the distance, but emergency services still seemed too far away. I tugged Ursula, who we all call Sue, by the hand to the window where the guys and I plac
ed a ladder reaching across like a bridge from Charlotte’s attic window to Elliot’s attic window next door.
Sue whined louder at the sight of the ladder. “I can’t go!” she cried. “I’m afraid of heights.” The girl clung onto me again from behind, putting her sweaty forehead on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around my chest.
It felt good to be gripped, to be needed by her, but I fought her grip to turn around, reaching up to cup her beautiful hot face in my palms. “Hey girl, look at me. It’s okay. I’ll go first. You follow right behind, okay?”
“No, I can’t,” she whined like a baby, her cheeks all puffy and red, with her big green eyes looking down at me.
I couldn’t believe it. Ursula Chandler, one of the most popular girls in school, seemingly overconfident and fearless, couldn’t crawl across a ladder to save her own damned life. It pissed me off, really. Her boyfriend kicked my ass the previous year just for saying “Hello” to her. I figured if I could take a beating like that for the girl, the least she could do was find some courage and crawl to save herself.
But of course, she started crying and the heat was raging. The chicks were panicking. I knew I didn’t have time to give her a pep talk so I turned around and pulled her arms tight around my shoulders.
“Just hold on, baby girl,” I said, “Close your eyes. I’ll carry you.”
“What?” she seemed to be in even more distress.
I shouted with confidence. “I’ll piggyback you.”
Sue leaped onto my back, wrapping her legs above my hips. We nearly toppled over but I caught myself, putting my hand to the window frame. She squealed out of fear. I feared I wasn’t going to be able to carry her until I felt her mouth and her breath—hot, hotter than fire and spreading down the back of my neck, which gave me another boost of adrenaline. I hiked her legs up higher. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
Looking back, I probably shouldn’t have carried Sue across the ladder. The height admittedly made me woozy and the tight grip of her thighs at my waist made me feel like my kidneys were about to burst. I nearly pissed my pants.
I remember seeing grass below as I made my way across, which seemed to take for-ev-er. As I crawled with my knees spread to the rail sides and my fingers struggling to grasp each step with Sue’s added weight, I kept thinking how long the drop down would be. We were nearly three stories up. If I had slipped just an inch, we’d have fallen to our deaths, so I wanted to go slow.
But then, I recalled looking ahead to Elliot’s house. The exterior had an orange glow—evidence of Charlotte’s house ablaze behind us and I decided to move quicker because I feared we wouldn’t make it to safety in time.
But we did!
The second Sue and I popped into Elliot’s attic, I fell to my knees to catch my breath, not realizing how fatigued I became. Sue was still gripping me, nearly choking me with her arm and I had to pull her off, as she was reluctant to let go.
“Help the others,” I encouraged, as I heaved, resting on my hands and knees to pant like a dog.
Once we were all across—four girls and four guys, the Cunt Squad and NIM—we evacuated. The heat from Charlotte’s house was penetrating the walls of Elliot’s home and we were beginning to crisp from the stiff heat.
Sue continued to cling to me. She gripped my forearm with one hand, her other hand laced tight in mine as I led us out of Elliot’s house and into the busy street of onlookers and emergency personnel. It felt good to take the lead.
I tried ushering Sue towards an ambulance where paramedics were waving us towards them, but she didn’t want to get checked out.
She tugged on my arm. “Take me home,” she wailed.
I remember turning around and looking up to her. Her green eyes peered down with more unease than they did moments before I pulled her into the ceiling.
I insisted, “C’mon, we should get examined.”
“No!” she cried, still tugging. “My parents are out of town. I wasn’t supposed to come to this party. I was told to stay home. I’ll be in big trouble if my parents find out I was here.”
My face cracked. I couldn’t understand her rationale. “That’s crazy,” I blurted, catching sight of firefighters scampering about with hoses and other gear in front of neighborhood spectators. “Baby girl,” I snapped, “angering your parents is the last thing you should be worried about right now.”
Tears poured down her frightened face as her nose came close to nearly touch mine. Tendrils of her hair fell over my cheeks, sticking to my sweat, and tickling my skin. “Take me home, Jaxon, and stay the night with me, please,” she whined.
With a hunch, she put her head in my neck and then wrapped her arms around me. For a brief millisecond, I recognized how exhausted I was but the trembling of her hot body against mine made me feel guilty and more eager than earlier to help.
“Yes, of course.”
I looked at my blue jalopy station wagon wedged between cars and surrounded by bystanders in front of Elliot’s house. There was no way I was going to get it out in the mess of traffic.
I took Sue’s hand and walked her through the crowd until I found Nick. He was sitting next to Loulah on the curb with his hand at the back of Loulah’s neck, massaging. Loulah kept her head between her knees.
“Boss, I need some money.” I put my hand out to him.
“For what?” Nick grimaced. “There’s fucking flames everywhere.”
“Sue wants to go home. The jalopy is wedged too deep in this mess. I’m going to call a taxi.”
Without further question, Nick let go of Loulah, pulled out his wallet, handed me a stack of bills, and shoved it into my open palm. “Don’t let it go to waste,” he chastened with heightened brows before gripping Loulah by the back of the neck once more, massaging it with so much pressure it made her entire body roll.
A cab showed up fairly quickly, which was a relief, but the ride to Sue’s home was awkward. We sat far apart at opposite doors though our arms remained stretched. Sue wouldn’t let go of my hand.
I kept glancing over at Sue as her eyes never broke their focus from my direction. It was strange experiencing the role reversal. It was usually me who was the one staring.
At one point, she caught my eye. “Why are you such a geek?” she asked.
A geek?
Her tone—I couldn’t understand it. I felt crushed in the moment. It felt as if the second we distanced ourselves from the tragedy still going on behind us, she went right back to behaving like her popular, bitchy self, which sucked because I still liked her...
No, even then I was in love with her.
Still, the question pained me and I tried to pull my hand away. Surprisingly, she tightened her grip, locking my fingers between hers.
I scratched my head with my free hand. “You ask like that’s a bad thing—being a geek. It’s not my fault I’m short and skinny and—” I shrugged my shoulders, “smart.”
I did just pull you out of a house fire for fuck’s sake! I remember thinking and turned my head to look out the window.
“Will you stay the night with me?” she asked.
Her line of questioning was peculiar. First, it seemed like she was insulting me by calling me a geek, but then she wanted me to stay the night. I figured whatever the hell was going on in her head was a result of the fear and trauma she had just experienced.
Me? I felt fine. In fact, I felt more than fine. I was in a cab with Ursula Chandler.
The cab came to a stop and she tugged on my hand to get out with her. I was reluctant to get out, observing her white mansion. The big house looked ready to swallow me whole and, as much as I liked the girl, something inside me told me not to go in.
“Jaxon, please,” my baby girl begged.
When I turned to see her beautiful pouty face peeping through the open taxi door, I knew I was going to have to find more courage and strength to get over my fatigue and get through the night to comfort her. I also hadn’t realized what she’d been wearing this whole time—a cr
opped black tee and short black frayed denim shorts that exposed her navel as well as long taut thighs that had moments ago been flexed around me.
She had been flexed.
Around me.
I quickly grabbed the handle and scooted myself out of the cab.
As Sue chews on her first bite of the hot dog she just bought, which is providing me much joy and exhilaration, I notice a younger man in a fine suit stroll behind Sue.
She catches his eye.
He fixes his tie.
But the young man goes unnoticed by her.
As he waits in line for a hot dog, he continually turns his head around to assess Sue, adjusting his tie once more.
I find myself adjusting my own tie, which I’d like to shove down that young man’s throat until he chokes.
Sue is oblivious to the whole thing, so after the younger man grabs his brown sack of fries and loads his hot dog with an overdose of ketchup, he makes his way over to Sue, politely asking if he can take a seat.
She grins, holding out her hand to the chair in approval though she turns her head in the opposite direction as he pulls out the chair and stumbles a bit, unable to take his eyes off her as he conveniently sits beside her.
My jaw tightens. I slip my hand into my pants, deep into my pocket, until my fingers find a very small plastic container. I shake the container, listening for the tic-tac noise of a little white pill being tossed about. Thankfully, the Bang is right where it should be, so I massage my clenched jaw with my other hand.
I observe the two, Sue and the young man, eating their hot dogs together at the table but isolated in an awkward silence until the atmosphere shifts. They are each about to take a bite out of their own lunch and, at the same time, they make eye contact. The gaze between them is held a bit too long for my liking—too many sparks flying.
I take a step forward.
This is my cue.
Chapter 2
Jaxon
Strolling between the crowd of seated metropolitans, I make my way to Sue’s side unnoticed.
