Under Contract (The GEG Series) (13 page)

“You heard correctly, Mr. Colton.” She kisses me back.

“Perfect. Just ... perfect,” I whisper as I trace the few lines on her face.

“Uh ... Mitch, Kitty would like to scratch your post now, if you know what I mean.” She nudges me with her knee.

“This post?” I roll my hips.

“Yes,” she gasps.

“This one?” I roll a little harsher and deeper.

“Oh God ... yes.” Her fingers dig into my shoulders and her legs wrap around my back.

“Is this what my baby wants?” I thrust again. Quite frankly, I’m not sure who I’m torturing more here. “Because whatever my baby wants, she will always get. I’ll give you the world, Charley.”
There I go ... laying my cards down again, damn it!
In my defense, my dick is caught in a vice grip, telling me that Kitty definitely wans’more. It may be cutting off circulation to my other head.

“Mitch ... that’s nice,” Charlotte says. “But will you kindly shut up and fuck the hell out of me now?” Her voice is driven by sexual frustration, and just in case I didn’t gather that on my own, she heels my ass.

“Baby,” I say, grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head, “buckle up.”

“Oh, thank Christ!” she says before I begin a course of relentless pounding. She orgasms almost instantly, which just drives me to a whole other level of crazy. I let go of her hands and quickly feel arms encircle me, holding me as we rock slowly together. Her body relaxes when she finishes her last quake. I raise her leg, and her calf casually falls onto my shoulder. I stare deeply into her eyes.
It’s all there.
I can see it—my future. My gut finally has my head convinced and I feel my heart exploding.

“Mitch?” She reaches up to caress my face. I bring her leg back down to go around my waist. Slowly, I dip my head down and kiss her lips. My hand firmly finds a place on her hip, and I move at an agonizing, torturous pace. My eyes stay on hers as I make love to her, savoring every sound that escapes her throat.

“Ma’am ... I said that’s two hundred, forty-three ninety-six,” the cashier sighs impatiently and pops her gum.

“Huh? Oh.” My fog lifts. “Sorry.” I shake my head and run my new bank card through.

“Have a nice day.” She smirks. Christ—what a brat! Shouldn’t she be in school? Brooklynn leans forward in the cart and rests her head against me.

“Can I get someone to help me out to my car?” I ask the bagger as I stare at my two overflowing carts. She waves over a young man who grabs my other cart.

“You know, Brooky ... I think I’ll take a nap this morning, too,” I say around a yawn as I back our fully-grocery-loaded Highlander out of the parking space. I turn the radio on, hardly believing it’s after ten a.m. It’s been almost four hours since I left the clutches of Mitch’s arms. He was in such a deep sleep; I didn’t want to wake him, so I left him a note. Besides, I’m a little ... hell,
a lot
more upset about not seeing him for three months. It’ll be good for me, though. I’m falling hard and fast for him, against my better judgment. The things he said to me didn’t help, either. I’m not quite sure what all of that was about. I almost feel as if he’s developing the same feelings for me, but then I have to remind myself that he’s paying me to be his girlfriend. He’s just playing the part, making it seem real for himself—right?

I glance into the rearview mirror quickly. “Oh, Brooklynn.” I sigh at the sight of her completely passed out.
Shit!
I hope she transfers well today—I desperately need her to nap! Although, the fact that I was up most of the night having amazing sex instead of dealing with a sick child (which would be my usual reason for being up all night) puts a little spring in my step. I pull up to the garage and cut the engine. First thing is first—Loxy and Vader need to be sent out back so they don’t jump up on us while I carry her in.

Slowly, I unbuckle Brooky, having survived my vicious Dobermans. Their method of choice is always death by licking. My “Beware of Attack Dog” sign is a big joke that warrants an eye roll from me every time I see it.

My silent prayer seems to be working as I transfer Brooklynn to her crib. Okay ... forty-five bags of groceries and maybe a nap? I run out and grab the first batch of bags (which means if I add one more bag, my arms will pop of their sockets) and head back in. Just as I turn around from placing them on my floor, I gasp and jump at the sight of Mitch bringing in more bags.

“I’ll get the rest. Put only the cold stuff away now!” he snaps and walks out.
He’s angry?
I shake my head and immediately follow his orders, mainly because I need to do something. “This is all of it,” he grumbles, plopping it on the floor. He starts rummaging through the bags, pulling out everything that needs to be refrigerated or frozen. His jawline is twitching and he hasn’t put any effort into looking up at me.

“Mitch.” I touch his arm. He flinches away.
Huh?
“You’re mad at me—why?”

“Because you left before I could get my two-hundred fifty-thousand dollars’ worth of pussy out of you!” he yells. Normally my mouth flies into action a lot quicker than my hands ... normally. I cradle my hand protectively.
Damn it—that hurt!

“Baby, let me see.” He reaches for my hand with no regard to his red, slightly swollen cheek.

“Don’t touch me!”
Oh, and here come the waterworks! Goddamn it! Sometimes it sucks to be a girl!

Mitch steps back and fishes something out of his back pocket. I forget my anger for a moment and realize he’s wearing loose-fitting jeans and a white cotton T-shirt. He looks so “boy-next-door.” I’ve never seen him dressed so casually. Not that I’ve spent a lot of time out of bed with him.

“Here.” He passes me something shaped like a business card. “I was going to use this for its original purpose, but I’d like to trade it for being an asshole who says things he doesn’t mean. I was mad and I went for your jugular. I’m sorry, Charlotte. Please forgive me.” He shuffles his feet and won’t maintain eye contact, which makes him seem ridiculously nervous for someone who’s always confident and in control. Then again—he’s flown off the handle a lot since I met him.

I finally pull my eyes away from his and look down. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. It’s a fucking Get Out of Jail Free card from Monopoly.

“I sat out in the parking lot of the toy store ‘til it opened at nine. I don’t do shit like that, Charlotte! If you knew me well enough, you would know that it meant something. You don’t know me well enough yet, and so you can only take me at my word. Trouble is, I’ve hurt you terribly with my words. Twice, now. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I haven’t been myself the past few days—not that you would know that, either. Christ, baby—will you say something? Your nattering has rubbed off on me.” He runs his hands through his hair and grasps it tightly while he exhales forcibly.

I don’t say anything. Part of me wants to tell him to leave, and the other part wants my aggressive Mitch to take me up against the kitchen wall. I slip the Monopoly card into my purse (I could hand it back and spank the shit out of him!) and decide to put the groceries away. Groceries are a safe decision; they won’t hurt my mind, heart, or body—although, that wall-banging thought is still enticing me.
Closet whore!
Mitch takes this as his cue to shut up and help me.

“You pack quite a wallop, Ms. McKendrick,” he says after a few minutes and bumps my hip playfully.

“So do you, Mr. Colton,” I say flatly, shooting my daggers at him. I’m not playing. He winces.

“Baby ... I ...” he starts, but I put my hand up, not wanting to hear another word. “Okay.” He sighs and continues to help me.

“So ...” we both say in unison after five minutes of silence and the last grocery finding its home. “Go ahead,” we both say, then laugh lightly.

“Ladies first,” he says, and gestures to me.

“You sure about that?” I cock an eyebrow.

“Baby ... stop.” He closes the gap between us and runs his hands up and down my upper arms.
Damn his sexy voice and seductive hands!

“So,” I say, trying to pull my wits about me. “You were coming here with the intent of spanking me?”

“Yes.” He pushes my chin up to look me in the eyes.

“Why?”
Breathe, Charley ... breathe. Damn him and the way he looks at me!

“You left me.” He looks down. “You didn’t wake me to say goodbye.”

“Mitch, you were sleeping so soundly. I didn’t want to wake you. I know for a fact that you’ve gotten less sleep than me these past few days.” I crook my neck slightly to make his eyes find mine. “Besides, I left you a note. Did you not see it?”

Mitch scoffs at the mention of my note.
“Dear Mitch, Safe flight. See you in three months. Love, Charlotte.”
He says every word verbatim, not that there were many. “What the fuck was that, Charlotte?” Uh-oh, jawline clenching—telling how little muscles in the cheek are. His face is so close to mine, I’m finding it hard to concentrate. “Answer me,” he says through his teeth. The very teeth that nipped about every inch of skin on my body last night.

“I ... uh, I was in a hurry, Mitch. I ... didn’t know what to say. I didn’t wake you for two reasons. First, I couldn’t be delayed in getting home to my kids.” I pull away from him and head to the sink. “Second, I wouldn’t have been able to leave knowing ...” I stop myself, and hopefully the forming tears.

“Knowing what, baby?” His hands slide onto my hips, causing a deep ache in my body.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m just reacting to a long dry spell. Or to having a long marriage with a man whose hands never felt
this
incredible on my body. A man who never made me feel the way Mitch makes me feel—in bed or out.

“Damn it, Mitch, why do your hands have to feel so good on me?” I lean my head back on his chest as said hands slide my short sundress up.

“Hmm, Charlotte,” he breathes against my ear, “why must you wear these cute little sundresses?” His hands slide under the band of my panties and palm my ass. “Jesus, I still want to spank you.” The gymnast in my stomach springs into her floor program, running into a roundoff and three front flips as I push my ass against his hands.

“You don’t have a Get Out of Jail Free card anymore.” I’m barely holding it together as his mouth travels down my neck.

“Make me a sandwich so I can earn it back.” He nips at the skin just below my lobe.

“Uh-uh, mister ... it’s not that easy.” I laugh, but my breath hitches when his hands slide up my back and reach around to the front.

“No bra again, Charlotte. No sweater. You let people—other men—see what’s mine.”

I gasp as he tugs harshly at my nipples and follow it up with a whimpery moan. Christ, I’m like putty in his hands.

“It was warm out. Nobody saw.” I turn my face and pull his mouth to mine. He tugs harder. “Oh, Mitch ... please.” I’m in sensory overload. Morale is at an all-time high and pushing against Kitty’s neighbor.

“Bow chicka wow wow!” CiCi pipes up. Mitch abruptly stops and jerks away from me.
Fuck!
“Charley ... you ever think about going into porn? That was hot! I can see it now—
Charley Does CEOs
! Should I get the camera?”

I scowl at her and glare daggers at her.

“Hi, Mitch, I’m CiCi. I’d shake your hand, but I’m offended by your pointing ... it’s rude.” She smirks. I look over at Mitch who suddenly matches her expression and stands up straighter. My eyes scan him to see what she’s talking about.
Oh, good Lord!

“I only point when I see something I like.” He’s grinning now. “Are all the O’Brien girls as hot as you two?”

“Don’t get any ideas, dude.”

“A man can dream, can’t he?”

I stare at the two of them in disbelief while they continue their flirt fest! I glance down, somewhat confused as to how I’m actually feeling about this. I can see Mitch isn’t losing any momentum in the morale department.

“That’s all you’ll do is dream, baby!” She blows him a kiss. He catches it and places it on his heart. “Keep him around a while, he’ll do just fine with our lot.” She smiles at me, then proceeds to let Loxy and Vader in.

“CiCi ... when did you move in here?” I ask sarcastically.