January (Calendar Girl #1) Anthology Anthology (78 page)

“Kathy honey, you’ll never guess what old man Benoit and his saucy little wife did!” he said.

She petted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it, but first we need to get you to bed.”

“You know I’d never share you, right?” he said seriously to her, and James started walking again. I smacked him hard on the ass again, and this time, he retaliated by doing the same to me.

“Will you stay still? You’re heavy enough as it is.”

I leaned up trying to get a glimpse of his face. “Are you calling me fat?”

“Hardly. But drunk off your ass you’re not light as a feather!” he quipped.

Like a child, a cross between a groan and a whine left my lips. “But they were getting to the best part. He was telling her he loves her.”

James shook his head and held me tight. Time seemed to fly as he took me to my room more quickly than I would have thought possible. Evaluating the passage of time wasn’t my strong suit in my inebriated state. “Everyone knows he loves Ms. Kathleen. He’s loved her for ages.”

“But the shrine,” I countered, my liquor-loosened lips flapping in the wind. 

“He didn’t know what to do with Ketty’s things. He thought maybe Aaron might take on a wife, kids, and want some of that stuff. Besides, he didn’t want to hurt his son. He’s more sentimental than he lets on.” James huffed, seeming almost put out. Regardless, the information definitely changed things. James flopped me onto the bed. He walked over to the dresser and pulled out a tank and pajama pants and tossed them on the bed. “There’s your nightclothes. Please tell me you don’t need help.”

I gave a sexy smile. “You’re not offering?” I quirked my lips again, the whiskey making me stupid.

“Hell no. My wife would take strips off my ass and feed them to our dogs. After her brothers broke every bone in my body,” he laughed.

“Aww, you have a wife?” I asked and snuggled into my pillow.

“Yes, I have a wife, a very mean one who rocks my world. I’d never be unfaithful.” James unbuckled and pulled off my heels. “Cool tattoo by the way. Good thing the shoes didn’t rub it. Looks almost healed.”

“That’s good.” I said about his wife, not the tattoo. Then just like any drunk chick who’s lost her mind, I shared personal information that I wouldn’t normally share in different circumstances. “You know, I have a Wes.” I thought back to our sexting earlier in the week and my body got hot once more.

“You have a Wes,” he reiterated, his tone rife with amusement. “I’m guessing that’s a man.” He said with a laugh, handing me the bed clothes he’d laid out. More like smacking me in the face with them.

“He’s not really mine, but he’s more mine than anyone else’s.”

“I see. Sounds complicated.” Boy, he didn’t even know the half of it.

Finally, he helped me lean up. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

He grumbled and helped me to the toilet where I spent the rest of the night vomiting violently. At some point, James left and Kathleen was there. Like aloe to a burn, she laid a cool washcloth over the back of my neck and soothed me with calm words and light caresses against my hair and spine. My knees ached from pressing into the tile for what felt like hours. I had no sense of time or space. All I knew was that I felt like death.

When the morning rolled around, I had a hangover the size of Texas. My robe hung off my shoulder precariously and I couldn’t be bothered to care. There seemed to be a construction worker jackhammering into my skull with every step I took. I reached the dining table and found that Warren didn’t look much better. For the first time, he wore a pair of men’s satin pajamas and not a suit. If I had been of sound mind, I would have cracked a joke, but all humor and wit had left me with the last bout of dry heaves. 

“You look like shit,” I said while assessing him through one eye. The other eye had a piercing nail ripping through my cornea every time the light touched it. Keeping it closed worked best.

Warren’s bloodshot eyes looked me over from the rumpled pj’s to the top of the rat’s nest that I once considered a great head of hair. Not now. Now I couldn’t even run a comb through it. When I tried, the strands felt as though tiny little hair gnomes were tugging on each strand individually trying to separate them from the root. It was a no-go zone until after I dumped a healthy dose of conditioner on it.

“Takes one to know one,” Warren grated through his teeth while placing a hand to his temples. “Christ, how much did we drink?”

“Um, I’m going to go with more than our fair share.”

Kathleen entered with plates loaded with bacon, sausage, and biscuits and gravy. This was the hangover food for any true drinking champion. I wanted to bow down and kiss her heel-clad feet.

“I so love you.” I looked at her like she was the second coming.

She petted my head like I was a faithful pet. “I know, dear. You told me several times last night while you promised you didn’t have a threesome with Warren, the Canadian, and...what was the last one…oh yes, the prego.”

Warren choked on his coffee, and I groaned. “Sorry about that. I was way over my limit. As in, at least five shots over the threshold.”

“You also kept talking about James.”

“Our driver?” Warren asked.

“Yes, dear. You said he was hot, nice, and had a mean wife who rocked his world.” Her lips turned up into that small smile I’d grown to love.

I shoveled in a huge bite of biscuits lathered in gravy then pointed my fork at her. “That part is true. He admitted that!”

They both laughed and we settled in to eat. Warren and I both groveled like the useless drunkards we were last night. It was by far one of the strangest breakfasts I’d had in a long time. After that, I hit the shower and went back to bed to sleep off the whiskey.

Chapter 7

A tickling sensation sprinkled along my ankle then up my calf as though someone was running just their fingertips along the bare skin. I rolled over, and there he was in all his sun-kissed glory. The light hit his shaggy blonde hair. And his eyes, oh good Lord, his eyes shone like perfect pools of cerulean blue. Everything he didn’t say aloud could be seen so clearly in the bottomless depths. I wanted to look into those eyes for eternity.

“You’re here,” I whispered.

“I’m always here,” he trailed a calloused finger over my chest where my heart lay beating from within. His touch was like a match, igniting and setting off an explosion within that burned far too bright to contain.

In a blur of limbs, he had me straddling his trim waist and his mouth was on mine. He tasted of the earth, the ocean, and all things beautiful. I nipped, sucked, and licked at his skin as though I’d never get another taste.

“Wes,” I said against his lips, my mouth hovering.

“Mia.” His lips moved lightly against mine as he spoke.

That was all that needed to be said. Our bodies moved over one another instinctively. Hands trailed over heated flesh. In a whoosh of fabric, my nightgown was up and over my head, leaving me in nothing but a pair of sodden panties. Muscled arms lifted me up until I was hovering over him on my knees, his head so close to the space I wanted him more than anything. I didn’t wait long. Wes lifted up his head and covered my sex, panties and all, putting that talented mouth to work. It seemed as if he had radar on my clit because his eyes were closed, and when he pushed the bit of fabric to the side, his tongue was all over my O-trigger, flicking the swollen, aching knot of need until I was fucking the air. I grappled for the headboard, my fingers digging into the fine wood as I arched into his mouth, grinding wet flesh all over his face. It only made him hungrier. Wes liked it went I lost control.

“More,” I cried out.

“You’ll get what I give you…and it’s going to be plenty. Widen those legs sweetheart, I want to taste you deep.” Wes growled and sunk his teeth into the fleshy patch at the top of my thigh as he tugged on the thin strings of my panties until the fabric seemed to disintegrate. I howled, my hips jutting forward as I followed his command. Within moments, his mouth was all over me.

Ravaging.

Devouring.

Claiming.

Each and every time with Wes was unlike the last. Between the two of us, we lost ourselves in one another so much so that there was only one body consisting of two souls.

The ticking sensation tingled against my hip in a swirling, circular pattern.

I twitched and inhaled, my mind trying to bring something to the surface.

A strong hand slid along my ribs, over my breast, taking hold of the back of my neck. “Come back to me, baby. I’m right here,” Wes pulled me down while he pressed up, dragging his muscular chest along mine until the tips of my nipples ached and throbbed. His mouth covered one rosy cap. Bursts of pleasure spiraled out and along every nerve. A fresh wave of arousal coated the heart of my sex, readying for the ride of a lifetime. I wanted him. I needed him to fill my body and my soul with his essence.

Wes leaned me back, licking his way from one breast to give attention to the other. He flicked just the tip of his tongue against the tight bud. It tightened and darkened, from a pale dusky pink to a deeper hue. He encased as much of my breast as he could, kneading the heavy tissue surrounding it for good measure. Definitely a breast man, he worshipped the twins like two goddesses to bow down to and he did, often.

Time seemed to pass and I looked around, the room no longer familiar. The edges were blurred and hazy.

“Hey…I’m right here. Stay with me. Let me love you.”

I shook my head. The tickling sensation crawled up my spine and niggled at the edges of consciousness.

“I don’t know how,” I whispered admitting my biggest fear, tears pooling in my eyes.

“I’ll show you,” he lined up his cock with my center and entered me, inch by glorious inch until I arched back, laid my hands on his chest and let the connection bind us. “That’s it, just go with it.”

Rocking my hips, I slid up on my knees and then took him back into my body. Again and again. I watched as he closed his eyes, though I wished he hadn’t. Those eyes tethered me to him, had a hold on me, but when they weren’t there, things changed.

I picked up the pace, roughly jolting up and slamming back down. He groaned and moaned. The room spun as pleasure peaked and I lost my breath, panting hard, riding him savagely. I cried out and opened my eyes. Everything was a blur as the ecstasy ebbed and flowed, searing through my body on a wave so big I knew it would end me. End the passion, the pleasure, the…the dream.

The tingling sensation warped into a warm hand sliding up and down my back, but it wasn’t Wes’s. Pleasure spiked hard between my legs and Wes’s body bowed, his hands holding my hips in place as he ground into me. I came, hard, bouncing on his cock as he bathed my womb with his seed.

“I miss you.” I whispered against his lips, sucking each one separately.

His eyes flew open. “Don’t go. I need you.” He said at the same time I heard another’s voice.

“Wake up, Mia.” Then I felt a hand curve around my bare breast. Again, it wasn’t Wes’s.

Wes shook his head. “Remember me.”

Then I opened my eyes and no longer was I naked and on top of Wes. No, I was still very naked, but this time a cold hand covered my breast, rhythmically squeezing as the other hand slid down my torso and to the thin thatch of hair between my legs.

“Mmm, I like this. Very sexy,” the low tone hit my ears. A heavy body weighed me down. The smell of apples and leather permeated the air. I pressed hard into a wall of the finest fabric.

Aaron lifted up, his eyes nothing but dark ponds of lust. “You’re awake.” He grinned wide and stood. I gripped the sheet and tugged it over my chest.

“What are you doing here and why the fuck were you touching me?”

Aaron rotated his shoulders, letting his suit jacket slip off his shoulders. Then he folded it and set it neatly on the bench at the foot of the bed. The rational side of my mind wasn’t working properly after a night of drinking and a dream involving making love to Wes.

“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying it.” His tone was a sneer. “I heard you moaning, sighing, licking those sweet lips”—he tugged the knot of his tie and loosened it—“rubbing your legs together wantonly as if you were ready to be taken. I have to admit it was enticing as hell.” Tie removed, he set it on his jacket and then proceeded to open the buttons of his shirt.

I blinked a few times trying to clear the cobwebs. “What are you doing?” His shirt lay open, exposing a broad chest, chiseled abs, and a smattering of hair. If I wasn’t so confused about what was going on, and half asleep—not to mention the double dose of hangover I had going—I’d have reacted much more quickly.

With his shirt open wide, he placed a knee on the bed and my eyes widened. “I had a meeting to attend to with Father, but he was busy. Needed a few minutes. He continued to crawl along the bed. “Thought I’d be a good son and check in on our guest.” Aaron caged me in, arms on each side of my hips. “To my delight, you were thrashing around in bed, naked, clearly needing something to assuage the tension I could plainly see in your body.” He ran a finger along my arm, from my shoulder to my wrist, where I still held the sheet, and I shivered but not in excitement.

“Aaron“—my voice shook and his eyes narrowed—“I’m not feeling well. Your father and I drank too much last night. I need to sleep it off. You shouldn’t have come in my room without knocking.”

He leaned close and ran his nose along my hairline inhaling my scent. Goosebumps rose along each pore and the warning bells blared loudly. “I knocked. You didn’t answer.”

“Because I was asleep.”

“I know, but now you’re not. Now you’re very much awake and very naked. I think we should do something about that.” His lips came down and pressed into the skin of my neck. “Mmm, you taste sweet. Like pure honey.”

Pure honey.

I swallowed hard as the vomit rose from my gut and up my esophagus. If he didn’t move I’d throw up on him, which would serve him right for the stunt he’d pulled. I pushed hard against his chest, falling out of the bed where I barely reached the trash can next to the desk and threw up my breakfast.