Cocky Suits Chicago: Books 1-3

by Alex Wolf

  Her lips mash into a thin line and her body tenses. Shit. She looks pissed. Maybe it wasn’t best to lead with a joke. I’m always fucking things up with her.

  We both know she feels this spark between us. Why she continually fights it I’ll never know. It would be a hell of a lot easier if she’d just give in to the attraction.

  Fuck, it would make me a happy man. The happiest.

  She pulls out her keys, unable to say anything, and slides into the driver’s seat. Her face is fiery red.

  I reach inside and stop her from putting them in the ignition. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to joke. Let me take you to dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Her words are short and laced with venom.

  “Coffee then?” I raise my eyebrows to try and lighten the mood.

  It doesn’t work.

  “I need to study.”

  “You can study over coffee. Get some coffee with me. Maybe I can help.”

  She exhales a deep breath. “It’s not a good idea. Please, just let me go home.”

  “I didn’t know you want to be a lawyer.”

  Quinn looks away. “I don’t want to talk about it. And please don’t say anything to anyone.”

  I hold up both hands. “Okay, I promise. But let me take you to get a cup of coffee. I won’t even bring it up.”

  She glares up at me. “You’re not going to leave me alone until you get your way, are you?”

  I shake my head and grin. No words need to be said.

  “Ugh. Fine. But I mean it, Deacon, no being a jerk.”

  I widen my eyes and feign innocence. “I’m never a jerk.” Grabbing her bag from the back seat, I lead her to my car and wonder how fast she’s going to try to run when she realizes I’m taking her to my place. Better save that news for when she’s buckled in the car. I didn’t say where we’d be going and coffee at my apartment is the best.

  One fact isn’t lost on me. I never take women home. She’ll be the first.

  My place is just that—mine.

  I don’t want them randomly showing up or leaving their purse or jacket as an excuse to return. It’s my lair and it’s off limits to women.

  Well, it was, it seems.

  Quinn is different. The thought of taking her there makes me a little anxious, but I can’t help myself.

  When I open the passenger door, she sinks down in the seat and her skirt rides up a little on her thigh. My cock attempts to spring to life and I will it to go back down in my pants. Handing her bag off to her, I jog around the back of the car and fold myself into the driver’s seat. Quinn’s eyebrows shoot up when Dr. Dre’s The Chronic blares from the speakers.

  I look over at her, turning the volume down. “What?”

  She shrugs. “Nothing. Just took you as more of an 80s hairband kinda guy. Expected Van Halen.”

  “Hmm. What kind of shit you listen to? Let me guess. Taylor Swift?”

  “No thanks. I’m more of a Foo Fighters kind of girl.”

  I nod. “Not bad. Not bad. It’s kind of punk rock.” I drag out the last syllable and it gets a small smile out of her.

  One small step for man…

  I navigate into the late evening traffic. We pass three coffee shops.

  Quinn notices, craning her head to follow each one as we drive by. “Where are you taking us? Canada?”

  “It’s a great spot. Trust me.” I grin and place my hand on the upper part of her leg that’s still covered. She doesn’t push it away, and I smirk to myself.

  One giant leap…

  I’m tempted to inch my hand up farther, but I don’t want to piss her off…not yet. I’m surprised she even got in the car and I take victories when I can get them.

  We arrive outside my building and Quinn wheels around on me. “Is this some kind of joke? I might stab you with my pen.”

  I bug my eyes at her. “No need to be violent, damn. You’ll appreciate the view, and I make a good cup of coffee.” I flash her a smile to ease her temper.

  She folds her arms across her chest. It pushes her tits together, and I have an unbelievable urge to dive head-first right into them.

  “Didn’t know you were capable of operating a coffee pot.”

  “There’s more to me than my big dick.”

  Her cheeks flush pink at the mention of my cock.

  It’s adorable when I know how dirty she can be.

  She smacks my chest with the back of her hand. “Damn it, Deacon. You said you’d behave.”

  “Oh, please. I’m a perfect gentleman.” I exit the car and open her door, grinning my ass off. “It’s just anatomy. No need to be shy.”

  Quinn

  “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the coffee going.” Deacon fumbles around his sleek, modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances. He looks clumsy in it, and I wonder if he’s ever even made coffee before. It is nice to have him waiting on me for once. I’ve never seen him run his own errands, ever.

  Moving through the apartment, I drop my bag on the kitchen counter. His place is the bachelor pad of all bachelor pads, and I wonder if I should sanitize my hands before I touch anything. Everything is oversized, from his giant television mounted on the wall to his black leather sofa that’s large enough for three people to sleep on.

  I explore the room more, taking in the decor. There are some black and white pictures of him with his brothers. It’s when they were kids, and I can barely tell any of them apart. They all wear the same boyish grins on their faces.

  I move down the line and there are a few pictures of him and Jenny, his niece. Decker’s in a few of them. There are some signed Bears footballs that my dad would go nuts over. Walter Payton and Mike Singletary and Brian Urlacher. I shrug. I recognize the names and have heard them a million times, but that’s about it. I’m not big into sports. I watch football with Dad on occasion because he loves it so much and we used to go to games when I was little.

  The city slowly lights up below, building by building, as the sun fades over the horizon. Lake Michigan sits to the east and the pretty colors of the sunset play off the waters. Deacon was right about one thing. I do love the view. It’s gorgeous. I stare out the floor-to-ceiling window that runs the length of his living room.

  The smell of expensive coffee fills the air.

  I guess he figured out how to make it. Good for him.

  He approaches me from behind. “Be ready in a few minutes.” He reaches around me. I’m so relaxed I start to lean back and stumble a little.

  “Shit, Quinn.” With cat-like reflexes, he catches me and for a long moment has me wrapped up in his arms. We linger for a bit before he stands me upright.

  He snickers and reaches over to open a door that leads onto a small terrace.

  God, I’m such a klutz around him.

  The little balcony is beautiful. Large plants overflow from pots placed equidistant along the wall, and there are a couple huge lounge chairs.

  I move onto the patio and take it all in. “Pretty breathtaking.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  My stomach coils into a knot, and I wince internally at the same time. I shouldn’t be around him yet I can’t stay away.

  “I like to sit out here and drink coffee when I work from home.”

  “I can see why.”

  He moves past me and flips on the outside light. “Have a seat and get comfortable. I’ll grab your bag. There’s an ethernet hook-up if you need the internet, or the Wi-Fi password is KimJongTateSucks. No spaces. First letter of each word capitalized.”

  I shake my head at him.

  He shrugs. “What?”

  “Nothing. Thanks.” I sink down in the thick cushions of one of the chairs and try to imagine Deacon sitting here, mulling over his cases. He returns minutes later with my bag and a steaming mug.

  I take a whiff and breathe it in. My eyebrows shoot up. It’s hazelnut creamer and two sugars. No wonder he was fussing with it for so long. “How’d you know to make it like this?” I smile ove
r the brim, blowing on the hot liquid before taking a sip.

  He takes a seat in one of the other chairs, but his gray eyes fix on mine. “I pay attention more than you think. I notice every little detail about you, Quinn.”

  My cheeks warm and I’m not sure if it’s the coffee or the words coming from Deacon’s mouth. Probably both. “I should study.” I know it’s rude to cut him off when he’s being so nice but it’s all too much. I’m overwhelmed just being here and I really do need to go over my notes.

  “I’ll leave you to it. Need to make a phone call.” He gets up from the chair and walks back toward the door.

  Much to my surprise, Deacon stays true to his word. He leaves me alone for nearly thirty minutes before returning to refill my cup. He takes the pot back to the kitchen and returns with a cinnamon roll that is to die for.

  “Now, that’s good.” I let out a long moan because it’s just that delicious.

  “I love when you make that sound.” His penetrating eyes heat me up from within. Brushing his thumb over my lips, he sweeps some crumbs from my mouth then licks them off.

  God, it’s so damn sexy. I know he wants me in his bed, and if I don’t get out of here quickly, he’s going to succeed.

  I gather my stuff. Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to stop me.

  “I should go. You said you’d be on your best behavior. This test is important. This class is crucial for school.”

  “Umm, okay. Didn’t realize I wasn’t behaving.” He shakes his head like he’s confused. “You know the firm offers scholarships for this sort of thing. I could put in a good word for you. We’d pay for your degree.”

  I shake my head vehemently. It immediately becomes clear in my mind just how different our upbringings were and how many miles apart we are from one another. Or maybe I’m just searching for an excuse to get out of here before his little plan works on me. “I don’t take handouts. I’m no charity case. I want to do this on my own for me. You don’t understand what that’s like because you’re used to having everything handed to you.” I pause and take a deep breath. He didn’t really deserve that but it just kind of slipped out. “Look, Deacon. I’m not like you. Where I come from you have to earn every damn thing you get.”

  His jaw ticks and he rubs his chin. I can see the intensity burning behind his steely gaze. I don’t think he’s ever been pissed at me before, but right now, the way he stares at me—he looks the part.

  He doesn’t explode, though. He sits there, calm. Almost mature, and I don’t even know who I’m looking at now. It’s like I’m finally staring at an adult.

  “So, it’s okay for you to just sum me up? Just like that?”

  I shrink back in my seat a little. It’s the closest we’ve ever had to a serious conversation and I’m in the wrong. It’s unfamiliar territory.

  Deacon stands up and paces toward the door. Now, the more the gears in his head spin, the more upset he looks. “Yeah, my life is so fucking easy. You know what it’s like being Decker Collins’ little brother? The baseball god. I could’ve been just as good as him, if not better, but I didn’t want the pressure of living up to that. I loved baseball, but I played football just to spite him. Just to prove I could do something he couldn’t. You think you know me, Quinn, but you don’t. You don’t even try.”

  I look down, unable to make eye contact with him.

  He walks off toward the door but spins around at the last second. “I try with you. I try to be better. I’ve never done that for anyone. But I guess I’ll never be more than some guy you fuck in the closet at work, right?”

  His words are a slap across the face. It hurts—bad. The pain is almost unbearable because he’s right. I’ve never really given him a fair chance. I’ve been hard on him and maybe I did put him in a box and not bother to look deeper. Maybe the humorous side of him is a defense mechanism he uses to hide who he really is.

  I walk over and reach for his forearm.

  He won’t look at me. I can tell I hurt him, and he doesn’t want me to see it. Even now, I get the feeling he’s not doing it out of shame. He’s trying to protect my feelings, from seeing I’ve wounded him.

  “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  He finally turns and faces me. “Right about what?”

  “Everything you just said.”

  He leans down and places both palms on my cheeks and stares deep in my eyes. When he looks at me like this all my walls crumble down and I want to let him in. But I’m scared to put my trust in him. I’m scared to fall. Deacon Collins thrills and terrifies me at the same time. He has the ability to hurt me. We both know it. But he’s so damn vulnerable right now. He’s letting me in, and I get the feeling he’s never let anyone else see him like this or told them the things he just told me.

  “Look, I like you, Quinn. I don’t know what I have to do to make you see that it’s real.”

  Before I can speak, his mouth connects with mine and everything fades away.

  Sliding his coffee-stained tongue between my lips, the man makes love to my mouth like he’s practiced on me his entire life. Lowering to his knees, he slides a hand up my skirt, teasing his fingers over my panties, but he rests his cheek against my stomach. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  Instinctively, I reach out and pull him closer to me. I bend down and whisper, “I know,” against his jaw and move to unbutton his shirt.

  He grabs my hand. “Slow down. We’re not at work. We have plenty of time.”

  He’s so sweet and intimate right now. I want it to last forever and at the same time I wish it was just another quickie so I wouldn’t have to deal with all these new emotions swarming through me.

  My mind races. Deacon makes me feel so damn dizzy and confused.

  When we’re about to kiss again, my phone buzzes from my bag and it breaks the spell between us. I pull it out and see my father’s name light up the screen. “Shit. I gotta go. I’m sorry.” I shove past him, nearly tripping over him as I rush to grab my things. My father expected me home an hour ago. He’s probably worried.

  “Quinn.”

  His word hits me in my back and I look over my shoulder to get one last look at him. I just want to see his face once more while he’s fully exposed to me, showing me who he really is.

  It’s a mistake. The disappointment in his eyes burns a hole in my chest, but I just can’t deal with this right now. I have too much going on with my dad and school.

  If only circumstances were different. After everything he just told me, maybe we’d have a chance.

  Deacon

  A cold shower isn’t enough to ease the pain after Quinn rushed out on me. I don’t get her at all. She acts like I’m the one who plays games but she’s yanking my strings like a fucking puppet master. I can’t get her out of my head. The sugary taste of her lips. Her green eyes and auburn hair.

  I completely opened up to her. I’ve never done that with anyone. It just sort of happened and all spilled out before I could stop it. That’s the effect she has on me. But look what happened.

  It’s why I keep that shit bottled up inside. I hate harboring resentment, and I don’t like to look weak. My whole life I’ve been told not to talk about my feelings. Suck it up and get the job done. Fucking around and joking keeps me from having to face the harsh realities of life and deal with that shit.

  What I should do, is give up. But, I can’t. I’m not a quitter and I know what the fuck I want.

  Her.

  I collapse on my bed and look at the clock wondering if she’s awake and as horny as I am.

  The woman drives me crazy. I want her here right now, next to me, in my arms. Not even necessarily to fuck her. I just love when she’s around me, talks to me. Even if it’s about real shit.

  Yeah, there’s no way in hell she’s getting rid of me. I’m a persistent son of a bitch when I want something. She’ll learn. She’ll have dinner with me. I don’t care if I have to back her into a corner and grind her down for years.

  It’s my missio
n. I’m starting to wonder if there’s something wrong with me when it comes to her. I’m acting like a little bitch. It hurts when she constantly turns me down and tosses my flowers in the garbage. Especially when I know she wants me as much as I want her.

  What’s her fucking deal? If she’d just tell me, maybe I could move on, but she makes no goddamn sense.

  At the same time, all of it only makes me want her more. She’ll be mine.

  I grab my cell phone off the nightstand and look at our last text exchange when she sent me the cleavage shot. It’s hot as fuck but doesn’t compare to the real thing. My finger hovers over the call button, and my cock grows harder at the thought of her voice and the way she feels when she trembles while I’m inside her. Fuck it. I need to hear her. Even if she yells at me.

  “Why are you calling?”

  “Why do you think?”

  “Deacon…” My name trails away. She’s warring with herself, I can tell.

  Just talk to me, woman! Let me in that brain of yours.

  “I’m trying to study.”

  “I need you.”

  “I’m not talking dirty to you over the phone. I’m sure you have a list of women on reserve.” She pauses. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just…”

  “No, you’re not wrong. But none of them make me feel the way you do. You’re the one that does it for me. There’s nothing I love more than wrapping my hand around your throat while you come undone.”

  She breathes heavily into the phone and I make a fist around my dick.

  “Come on. At least tell me what you’re wearing.”

  “Fine. You want to know what I’m wearing?”

  My cock hardens in my palm. Now, we’re getting somewhere. “Hell yes.”

  “I just took a bath and shaved.”

  I fight back a groan. “Keep going.”

  “I shaved everywhere. Completely bare except for a little strip of hair and I can’t stop running my fingers over my body wishing they were yours.”

  “I do believe I like the sound of that. You’re pretty good at this.” I pump my cock a couple times in my hand. “Keep going.”