Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (6 page)

“What exactly did you like about it?”

I smiled.  “That was two questions.”

“Oh, Shaw,” he sighed dramatically, shifting above me on the bed.  “In such a rush to the end.  Well, go ahead then.  Roll over.”

Steeling myself, I rolled, found myself beneath him, staring up at his chest.  He had a light dusting of blond hair at the center, and a few pale freckles across his collarbones.  He wasn’t overly muscled, but he made Henry seem juvenile in comparison.

Then there was the aspect of his rock star status.  He played on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans, women throwing themselves at him at any given moment.  He probably had a dozen groupies downstairs waiting to catch even a glimpse of him.

I had to reach and touch his chest to prove he was really there, that
I
was really there.  For all I knew, I was drunk and hallucinating the whole incident.  On the other hand, my head could’ve been spinning over my acute reaction to the sight of him above me.

“Lower, Shaw.  Help me out of my pants.”  No sooner than the words were out, he was at my lips, parting them with his own.  His tongue swept against mine with a vehemence that belied his control.  It screamed of hunger.

Lifting one knee, he slipped it between my thighs, and then the other.  I scrambled at the button of his jeans, which refused to give way.  With an oath muffled by his lips, I gave an annoyed tug, and it finally broke free.  The zipper came down with less resistance, thank the heavens.  Eagerly, I began to shuck them down his hips, careful of his erection with the elastic of his shorts.  Yet, Jake broke the kiss and pulled away.

“Mother fucking boots!”  Disgruntled, he rose to his knees, and almost slipped off the bed.  Laughing, I watched him wrestle with his shoes.  One clunked to the floor and then the other.  His pants followed a few seconds later.  When he focused his attention on me again, he smiled wryly.  “You’ve got me off my game, Shaw.”

Biting my lip, I smiled back.

His gaze dropped to my closed knees and lower.  The smile faded from his face.  “Open.”

Hesitantly, I let my knees fall open.  Though I'd put on a show earlier, my face reddened.  No man had ever looked at me that way, not so up close and personal.  “Like what you see?”

Grasping my knees, he pushed my legs wider, while looking torn.  “Fuckin’ A.”  Slowly, he began sliding his hands down the inside of my thighs.  “I shouldn’t be doing this, but I have to have it.”  He didn’t look up to see my arched brows, but he answered my question, nonetheless.  “I don’t go down on girls, Shaw.  Never.  You can’t exactly put a glove on your tongue.”

“What about me?”  I was clean.  Of that I was certain, but I had to ask.  While I didn’t want to think of all the girls he’d slept with, years of nursing refused to capitulate.

“I’m sure you were tested for everything under the sun before your procedure last month, not to mention Henry’s been neglecting you.”  Sliding his hands beneath me, he cupped my ass and lifted while lowering his head.  “I’ll have to thank him for that if we ever meet.”

I moaned as his tongue flicked against me.  All words were lost.  Grasping a tuft of sheet on either side of my waist, I held myself in place.  I felt like I was falling from grace, and were he to stop, I’d fall straight into the bowels of Hell.  The fuck if I cared.  If this was sinning, my soul was damned for all eternity.  I wasn’t repenting this, not when it felt this fucking good.

Slowly, his fingers trailed up my waist and circled my nipple until it hardened to a stiff peak.  Then he cocked his finger back and flicked it.  I gasped in surprise and lifted my head to find him staring with sparkling eyes.  Holding my gaze, he pressed his face farther between my thighs, and turned his attention to my other breast.

Something I’d never told anyone, especially Monica, I’d never come for anyone but my own hand.  To give Liam credit, we were only seventeen.  The only thing that mattered to me was that he put a condom on.  The only thing that mattered to him was making it inside me before he came.  That in itself pretty much summed up the loss of my virginity.  But Henry…he wasn’t bad or anything.  There was just something missing.  He was too…
passive
.

Jake, on the other hand, he was wickedly adept at applying the right amount of pressure, bordering the threshold of pain and pleasure.  He would tease me with that delicious bite of agony, watching attentively for that sign he was taking it too far, and then easing up seconds before he reached that point.  It was a sharp edge to balance, but he had it perfected.

For the first time in my life, I came at another’s bidding.  With every lash of his tongue I moaned unreservedly, grinding myself against his face.  I should’ve been ashamed over my brazen promiscuity, but I was too lost in the pleasure of it to care.  I was irrevocably ruined.

“Fuck!” Jake hissed.  Sliding out from between my legs, he grasped my hips and rolled me to my stomach, then pulled me up to my knees.  Bracing myself, I rose up on my hands, but of a different mind, Jake placed his palm between my shoulders and guided me down again.  “Uh uh.  I want you like that.”  Grasping a handful of my hair, he turned my head to the side, pressing my cheek flat against the mattress.  “There, so I can see your pretty fucking face.”

His palm came down hard on my ass.  The slap resounded across the room.  I half yelped, half moaned over the shock and pleasure.  “You like that, don’t you?” Jake said in observation.  Before I could reply, he thrust into me.  If not for his hold on my hips, I would’ve tumbled forward over the force.  As it stood, I scrambled to clutch the sheets and brace myself as he continued with another thrust and another.

The sound of his hips clapping against my ass filled the room.  Jake was merciless in bed.  I loved every fucking minute of it.  Pushing back, I met each of his thrusts.  This is what I needed.  This was what I’d come here for.  To know that I could inspire this in a man.  I knew it wasn’t rational.  Jake was only looking to get laid and I happened to be available.  But at the moment, I was satisfied with being desirable.  Admittedly, Henry had bruised my fragile psyche.

Another sharp clap to my ass garnered my attention.  “Yes!  Harder!”  I ground out, welcoming the distraction.  Henry Powell was the last person I wanted to think about while Jake Whalen was rocking my world.  Henry Powell was the last person I wanted to think about
ever
.

“Jesus, Shaw, where’ve you been all my life?”

The same place I’d be when he was finished with me.  Just a memory.  If even that.  “Barely an itch in my daddy’s pants,” I said instead.  There was nothing that would spur him on like implying his age was slowing him down.  He might not remember me in the morning, but I’d certainly never forget.  I might as well make the experience a memorable one.

Instead, I was rewarded with a startling slap between the thighs.  One sharp pop against my clit.  I half screamed over the shock.  “Sass me again, Shaw.”

“Sass.  Who the hell says sa—” Another sharp slap between the thighs, cut off my retort.  My breath left on a wheeze.

“Keep opening that mouth and I’ll stick my cock in it.”

A smile played at my lips.  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to knee him in the balls or cry over the sweet sting of his reprimands.

“You're actually considering it, aren't you?”

“I've only ever heard my gram say sass, but that makes sense.”

Jake withdrew himself.  Sliding off the edge of the bed, he reached for something.  The crop?  I raised my head to peek, but he was quick to allay my curiosity with a lash to my ass.  I was still breathing through the sting when he grasped my wrists and yanked them behind my back.  “I don’t appreciate your insinuations, Shaw.”

“I only made one.”  He began knotting something around my wrists.  It felt silky, but unforgiving.  I tested the knot with a firm jerk of my arms.  Nothing.  Shit.

“You think my performance is substandard, let’s see yours.”  Lifting me by the arms, he set me on my feet, and then pushed me to my knees.  I’d have bruises in the morning.  The glass floors were unyielding.  With a wry smile, he looked down at me.  “
Make sense
?”

Make sense
.  “I only meant that you used ‘sass’ in your vocabulary because your grandmother raised you.”

Jake’s smiled widened.  “Were you doing research before you came out tonight?”

Averting my gaze, I dropped my eyes, focusing inadvertently on his penis.  I quickly blinked and looked away.  And back again.  And away again.  He had a Prince Albert piercing.

Patting my cheek with the tip of the crop, Jake gathered my attention.  “Guess you didn’t learn everything about us, did you?”

I shook my head.  No.  Definitely not.

“Did you have a preference?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which one of us you wanted to hook up with in the bathroom?  Tate…?  Carter…?  Shane…?”

Fuck.  “I thought we were done talking.”

Something flashed in his eyes.  Disappointment?  The crop came down across my nipple faster than I could react.  “I thought we were done with the evasiveness.”

Grabbing a handful of my hair, he straightened my back.  My nipple stung like a mother fucker.  “Damn it!”  I hissed.  “Rub it, please.  Jesus, that fucking stings!”

“Who?” he insisted.

“Come on!”  He had to be fucking kidding me.

The crop came down again, stinging the same breast with the flat keeper.  I gasped around the pain, straining at the restraints on my wrists.  “
Who
?”

“You!” I said through my teeth.  “Just you!”  Jerk.  Jerk.  Jerk.  “Go ahead and gloat now because I looked you up on the internet!  Does it make you feel like a big man when peons like me swoon over you?  Fucking rock star!  Untie me!  Untie me right no—”

Grasping a fistful of my hair, he tugged it, angling my head until I met his gaze.  “Swoon?  Did you really swoon?”

I saw red.  It wasn’t a cozy, warm, sit-by-the-fire red; it was mother fucking blood-boiling-behind-my-eyes red.  “Un.  Tie.  Me.  Now.”

“Shaw, let me enlighten you on something.”  Grasping the length of his cock, he gave it a shake for emphasis.  “My cock has been unrelentingly hard since I laid eyes on you.  Now you tell me—which of us should be fucking gloating?”

Momentarily silenced, I stared up from under my lashes.

“You're not ordinary.”

Well fuck.  He was pulling out all the big guns and using his words.  The hell if I wasn’t falling for it, too.  He had me lapping it up like a kitten with a bowl of freaking cream.

Leaning closer, he brushed his lips across mine.  “You think I’m sweet talking you, but I’ll have you know, I’m breaking the rules for you.  I don’t break fucking rules.  I make them.”

I cocked my head to the side.  “Rules?  What rules?”

“Fucking Marshall made me and Carter promise not to touch you.”  Amused with himself, he smiled crookedly.  “I figured fuck it.  If I’m going to break the rules, I might as well do it thoroughly.”  His lips parted against mine.  His tongue swept in, effectively ending the conversation.

Chapter 6
 

“
G
oing to Trum’s tonight if you want to come,” Peter offered.  Ripping the bag open to the new box of Lucky Charms, he spilled half the contents onto the floor.  I suppose I should be thankful I didn't like them.  I only bought them so he didn't eat my cereal.  He and Pax had been taking turns imposing themselves on me and my pull out sofa.  Fuckers had nothing to worry about.  It’d been two weeks.  Jake wasn't calling.

“I’m waiting for a call from Dani.”  She was a friend from high school. One of the many that went off to college.  We barely kept in touch.

“I thought she was at college in Sacramento.”

“She flew home for Easter.  We’re gonna get together.”  Bending over, Peter picked the cereal off the floor one by one, and put it into his mouth.  My lip curled in disgust.  “I can’t believe you’re eating that off the floor.”  I kept my place clean, but not that clean.

“Can’t be any worse than oral sex, and I do that, too.”

“God, Peter! Really?”  The spoon in my hand paused and dropped back into the bowl with a kerplunk.

“Come on, pipsqueak, you’re a nurse for Christ’s sake.  You’re supposed to be able to stomach anything.”

“That’s different.  I don’t need to know about your sex capades.”  Rising from my chair, I placed my bowl in the sink.  “You don’t hear me sharing mine.”

“I know all I need to know about your sex capades, thanks.”

“Peter.”  I wasn’t doing this again.  He and Pax lectured me every opportunity.

“Don’t,
Peter
me! You came home trashed—”

“I wasn’t trashed!”  I was completely trashed.

“Their fucking bodyguard carried you up the stairs!” Peter exclaimed.  “You were half conscious!  God knows what you did, or worse—who you did.”

“
That
is none of your business!”

“You’re my little sister!  Don’t hand me it’s none of my fucking business!” Peter continued, wagging his spoon in my direction.  “That mother fucker’s lucky I didn't put him six feet underground!”

I laughed sardonically.  “I think you have that backwards.  He was more likely to put you six feet under.”  Marshall was huge, and a competent fighter.  I saw him in action when Jake and I stepped off the elevator.  Apparently he’d taken offense that Jake had broken their agreement.

Perhaps it wasn't such a surprise Jake hadn't called.

Whatever.  It was a hookup.  Nothing more.  I'd known that from the start.  It's not like I'd fallen in love with the guy.

“Bigger they are the harder they fall,” Peter scoffed.  “I could've taken him.”

“Grow up, Peter.”

“Said the pot to the kettle.”

“I'm twenty-one.  I'm supposed to be getting drunk and making mistakes.”

“You're not giving me much confidence, pipsqueak.”

“I'm an adult.  I don't need your approval.”

“Adult? That's funny.”

“Don't be a hypocrite; who’s been sponging off whom the past year?”

“Just trying to look out for you.”

“I want money for the food you're eating.  If you're going to keep staying here, you need to chip in for the rent and utilities too.”

“I have my own place to pay for.”

“Then go stay there.  I'm unemployed.  I can't afford the added expenses.”

“You know,” said Peter contemplatively, “it's not a half bad idea.”  He said this around a mouthful of marshmallows.  Milk dribbled down his chin.  He wiped it with the back of his hand.

“I know.”

“My lease is up soon. I could move in and we could split the rent.”

I almost choked on my own spit.  “No.  Absolutely not.  No.”  He was insane if he thought I’d even consider it.

“Why?  When you're working you're not home half the time.”

“Because I moved out so I could get away from you.”

“That's not a nice thing to say.”

Leaning across the counter, I looked him in the eye.  “I don't want you here.”

“You know—I’m starting to feel unwelcome.”

“Finally.”

“I think we need bonding time.”

Lord no.  “Don't even think about it.”  He called them hugs; I called them headlocks.  His armpits always smelled like Fritos.

Peter slid from his stool.

“Peter,” I said in warning.  “We’re too old for this shit!”

“You’re never too old to hug your brother.  Our love is unconditional and never-ending.”  The corners of Peter’s lips turned up, and I bolted down the hall.  He was hot on my heels, literally clipping them with his toes.  I squealed, arching my back as his fingers brushed my skin.

“Come on, Peter, someone’s gonna get hurt!”  Like me.  Skidding on the braided rug across the wood floor, my feet went out beneath me.  Peter landed on me like a bag of rocks.  Before I could recover, he wrapped his arm around my neck, shoving my face into his armpit.

“Tell me you love me.”

“Oh, Please.”

Peter tightened his hold.  “When’s the last time I gave you a wet willy?”  He lifted his pinky to his mouth and removed it with an audible pop.

Fucker.  “I love you.”

“I’m your favorite brother.”

“You’re my favorite brother.”

“You want me to move in with you.”

“Fuck no!”  I screamed bloody murder as my brother slipped his wet pinky into my ear.  This was secondary to the phone ringing.  It was my landline.  I still hadn’t replaced my cell phone.  I’d decided it was another bill I didn’t need.  “COME ON!  I NEED TO ANSWER THAT!”

“God, I miss fucking with you.”

“I have to answer that.”

“Think about it.  We could have fun.  Just like old times.”

“I really need to answer that.”

Finally, he pulled his finger from my ear and wiped it on the hem of his boxers.  “If that’s Dani, invite her to Trum’s, too.  I always liked her.”

“You hated her.  You used to pull her hair.”  As I stood, I kicked him in the ribs, not hard.  While he annoyed me, I still loved him.  “And she has a boyfriend.  A college guy.  You know, a guy with brains.”

Ignoring Peter’s retort, I jogged to the phone and yanked it off the charger and pressed the call button.  “Hello!”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Dr. Watkins!”

“Paisley.”

“What can I do for you?”  God, please let it be a job.  Any job.  I’d take it.  I really didn’t want to take Peter up on his offer, but finances were tight.  If I didn't want to dip in to my vacation fund, I needed income.

“I have a job.  It's short term, but it pays well.  Debra said you might be interested.  By the way, I’m sorry to hear about your dismissal.”

“Thank you,” I said succinctly and moved on.  I really didn't want to go into detail about the whys of it.  “What does it entail?”

“My son, Tate, has to go out of town and needs someone to stay with Cooper.  As you know, she’s on bedrest, and, well, she has a three-year-old.”  I must’ve made a noise of disappointment because she was quick to clarify.  “He’s a great kid.  Well behaved.  And Tate’s father will be there most of the time.  Honestly, we’re more concerned about Cooper.  With the stress she’s under, Tate would feel more comfortable having someone with medical experience at hand.”

The kid wasn’t the problem.  I didn’t mind babysitting, and it was only for a short time.  The problem was running into Jake Whalen.  I’d rather not if I could help it.  Facing Henry would be easier, if that said anything.

“They liked you,” Dr. Watkins pressed, “and it would be a great personal favor to me.  It's only two weeks, overnight, on premises.  Like I said, it pays well.”

“Dr. Watkins, I'm sorry but I have interviews set up that I can't miss.”  It was a lie.  I hated myself for it.  I really wanted the job.

“Think about it, Paisley.  Call me this evening.  We’ll need to call a service in the morning, but we can wait until then.”

“Thank you, Dr. Watkins.”  I pressed the call button and hung up the phone.  Why, oh, why did I make such bad choices?  I hadn't regretted sleeping with Jake, but I did now.  Any encounter with him would only result in awkwardness.

Fuck.

“You lied,” Peter accused.  “You don't have an interviews set up.  I asked you this morning.”

“Butt out.”

“Was that a job?”

“Yeah, but I can't take it.”

“Why?”

“Because it's only temporary.”

“So it doesn't have anything to do with it being Tate Watkins.”

“It doesn't.  His mother is a doctor at the hospital.  I worked with her before.  She needs help through the summer while one of her nurses is on maternity.”

“Paisley—”

The phone rang again, cutting Peter short.  I answered on my way to the other room.  I desperately needed to get rid of my brother, especially when he was eavesdropping on my phone calls.  “Hello?”

“Paisley?”

“Yes?”

“This is Tate.”

Holy fucking shit.  I had to close my eyes.  This was not going to end well.  I was so fucking screwed.  Because I knew I wasn't going to say no.  “Hi.”

“What'll it take?”

Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.

“Hello?”

“I'm here.”

“I'll keep you on until the end of the pregnancy.  That's two to three months, God willing.  And I'll cover your healthcare costs while you're under employment.”

“Two weeks is fine,” I sighed.  Though he’d offered me a good deal with the insurance, I might be able to skate around Jake for two weeks. Especially if the band was on the road.  I might not see him at all.

“With the possibility of longer?”

“I can't promise anything.”

“Here's the thing.  Coop’s BFF is busy at the moment and she can't be here to keep Coop company.  She needs a friend.  Someone to hang with her.  She's new to Seattle, you know?”

“You want to pay me to be her friend.”

“I spend a lot of time in the studio.  I need to make sure she's in good health while I'm working.  I worry about her.  But she doesn't want a nurse hanging around either.  It makes her uncomfortable.  That's what makes you perfect.  You're cool.”

Tate Watkins thought I was “cool.”

“So what do you say?”

“I'll entertain the possibility.”

“When can you start?”

“When do you leave town?”

“Wednesday, but I have paperwork you’ll have to sign, and I’d like to show you around first.”

“What sort of paperwork?  What’ll I need to bring?”

“Insurance waivers.  Confidentiality agreement.  Contract.  You’ll need to bring your birth certificate, social security card, a jar of blood, and a quill.”

I actually managed to laugh, despite my mood.  “You had me there for a second.”

“Hey, I’m at your mercy.”

“Yeah.”  I seriously doubted that.

“I’m serious.  I want Cooper to be happy.”

“What day is better for you,” I said, pushing the conversation along.  I couldn't believe I was doing it.  I was a sucker.

“Ah…shit…you know…if you could come this afternoon, I have a few hours free.  If not, come Tuesday.  I’ll be in the studio with the band, but I’ll make time.  Tomorrow’s obviously not good because of the holiday, and Coop has an appointment Monday.”

“This afternoon is fine,” I agreed.  “I don’t want to interrupt you while you’re working.”  I wanted to gain as little attention as possible while I was there.  Quickly, I scribbled his address down on the envelope for the electric bill.  “One o’clock is fine.  Someone will buzz me in at the gate.  Got it.”

“And Paisley…”

This was it.  He was going to bring up the incident at the club.  I just knew it.  Why, God?  Why did he insist on placing me in these mortifying positions?  I swear he was testing me.  Well, I’d learned my lesson.  I wasn’t sleeping with another coworker.  Never again.  No way.

“Bring a bathing suit.  The pool is heated and the kid likes to swim.”

“Oh…ok!”  I exhaled, able to breathe again.

“Later then.”

“Bye.”  Pressing the call button, I chucked the phone across the room and onto my bed.  I would’ve liked to aim it at the wall, but I needed the thing.  “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”  Mentally reciting a few more choice words, I dropped to the floor and lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold the answer to my problems.

“Nothing to do with Tate Watkins, huh?”

“Go away, Peter.”

“Why would you lie to me about that, Paisley?”  Peter leaned against the door jamb and folded his arms across his chest.  I was beginning to see an order in people I’d rather face.  Henry.  Jake Whalen.  Peter.

Sighing, I draped my arm across my eyes, hoping to fool myself that Peter wasn’t really there.  “Because it's none of your business.”

“I care about you.  Doesn't that count for anything?”