Charity Case: The Complete Series

by Piper Rayne

  I pace up and down the filthy alley that reeks of old spaghetti and spoiled veal.

  “Skylar can do whatever the fuck she wants. She wants to be a brat, fine. I don’t care.”

  He leans his shoulder against the brick, his arms crossed and lets out a long sigh.

  Yeah, we both know I’m talking bullshit.

  “This isn’t about Sky.”

  I stop pacing, meeting his gaze. “It will never be like it is for them.” I choke back tears.

  “Like what?” His arms drop, and he pushes off the wall.

  “Beckett and Sky, everyone is so happy for them. No animosity, no anger. They just accepted him into the family.”

  A tight smile forms on his lips and he slowly walks toward me.

  “So maybe it does bother you more than you think that your parents don’t accept me?”

  I shrug.

  “It’s okay, you can tell me I’m right later.”

  I huff out a small laugh. He reaches up and cups my cheek. “Baby, one day they will. What we have is complicated and none of them understands. All they see is some has-been baseball player who lost his shit in a bottle of Jack. A guy who left his new bride alone and abandoned. But that Dean is gone and maybe they haven’t realized it yet, but you have. For me, that’s all that matters. But if those people in there matter this much to you, then I’ll make damn sure they know what we already do, that you’re number one in my life.”

  I shake my head. “You shouldn’t have to do that. It should be enough that I know, and I tell them so.”

  His large palms slide down my bare arms, taking each hand in his. “Your family is important to you. I’ve always known that.”

  I step into his strong arms and he holds me tight to his body.

  “But the bitchy girl who’s throwing a tantrum because she didn’t get what she wants has got to go.”

  I jab him in the stomach, but he never moves an inch.

  “You love my bitchy side.”

  He chuckles into the night air. “I love every side. But I think everyone in there would prefer to see a different side of you.”

  “How fitting I find you both in the alley?”

  Dean steps us to the side so we can see who it is, but I’d know that voice anywhere and I prepare myself for round two.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Thank goodness you have clothes on this time.” Skylar’s arms are crossed, her eyes throwing daggers at me.

  I slide out of Dean’s embrace, stepping in front of him as though I’m protecting him.

  “Let’s remember one thing before we get this started, I never gave you shit about Beckett. If anything, I pushed you toward another man, so he’d realize he loved you.”

  “Okay girls.”

  “Stay out of this, Dean,” we both say in unison.

  Dean steps out from behind me. “Fine. Go at each other’s throats.”

  Skylar and I are practically like sisters. We grew up together, playing tag around holiday dinner tables, secretly telling one another our crushes. Jeez, with the same last name, people thought we were a set of adopted twins all through school. This isn’t the first time we’ve thrown it down, and I know it won’t be the last.

  “I’ll be inside.” Dean opens the door, passing Skylar with a shake of his head.

  “Were you never going to tell me?” Skylar asks, her gaze narrowed on me.

  Anyone passing by would probably think we’re minutes away from pulling each other’s hair out. That’s not us though, we punch and kick. We just haven’t done it since we were sixteen.

  “Obviously from your reaction tonight, I chose correctly. I don’t need your doubts.”

  Her exaggerated huff echoes in the dark. “You’re the one who calls him your biggest mistake.”

  “Maybe I was wrong.” I shrug.

  Her shoulders lose the fight and sag.

  “Maybe he’s changed. People can change,” I say.

  Her hands leave her hips. “I never said they couldn’t, but Chels—”

  I raise my hand in the air. The dim yellow light above the door our only way of seeing one another.

  “I don’t want your negativity. I love him, okay? I know very well I’m lighting the match on the explosive and my entire life could blow up. But maybe it won’t. I don’t need you and my mother and Zoe and anyone else who wants to weigh in telling me he’s no good.”

  She steps closer and there’s a glimmer of a smile on her lips. “You’re so intense right now.”

  “I was there for you.”

  “I know,” she says softly.

  “I never told you how horrible of a guy Beckett was even when he was being the biggest douchebag.”

  She stops in front of me, her smile on full display now. A glimmer of hope sparks inside me.

  “I don’t need another mother, Sky. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

  Her hands touch my shoulders. “Okay.”

  I roll my eyes. “Okay? It’s that easy?” I cock a hip out to the side, not fully believing her.

  “Let’s remember who got in that awful pink dress for that dinner reception your mother forced you to have after you and Dean ran off and got married. I stood by your side then and I’ll stand by it again, Chels, but this time if he hurts you, you better have money for bail.”

  She pulls me into an embrace.

  “Is that a deal?” she asks. “If he hurts you, I take a meat cleaver to his nuts.”

  “That’s fine because his dick will already be a hood ornament if he does.”

  She laughs, and I wrap my arms around my cousin’s body.

  “So, are you going to keep stuff from me from now on?” she asks. “Because I’m going crazy with this wedding. Everyone is all over me in there. I have to thank you for taking the pressure off Beck and I for a while.”

  “No one can take the shine off the golden couple,” I say like the sullen child I’m acting like.

  She breaks away from me and tilts her head. “When you and Dean get married again, you’ll be a golden couple, too.”

  What is it with everyone shifting gears so fast?

  “Marriage is way down the line,” I say. “If ever.”

  “I don’t know, you and Dean always do things fast.”

  “Sky—”

  She holds her hands up, walking backward toward the door. “I’m not judging. I’m just saying.”

  I nod. She’s right. We move fast in everything we’ve ever done. Whether it was five years ago or present. Taking my time around Dean always seems like a waste.

  Skylar and I return inside through the back door of the restaurant, my eyes immediately finding Dean at a table with Vin, Mikey, and Beckett. He’s telling a story that has all of them laughing.

  “Looks like he’s already in with the guys again,” Skylar says.

  “My husband was practically giddy when you walked in.” Zoe comes up next to us with a sleepy Caiden in her arms.

  I run my hand over his dark hair. “So peaceful and sweet.”

  “When he’s sleeping.” Zoe stares down at her son with love bursting from her eyes.

  My gaze scatters across the room, and then double take to my mom’s who’s currently glaring at Dean and my dad who has refused to look at me all evening. It’s his usual M.O. Let my mom handle all the dirty work.

  I elbow Skylar. “That’ll never be fixed.”

  Sky and Zoe follow my line of vision. Sky’s arm sliding through mine. “She’ll come around eventually. Between my mom and everyone else, she’ll get there.”

  My mom won’t make a scene here and maybe that’s why I slid Dean into this family gathering. That way he’s here and she won’t attack him. What would people say if she took me by the arm and escorted me out of the room, or worse was seen yelling at Dean outside the restroom? I’m not sure if her disdain comes from being protective or spiteful.

  “Come on, let’s go join them.” Zoe walks toward the table, just as her daughter Molly meets us on the dance flo
or. She’s doing the floss.

  “Way to go girl.” I hold my hand up in the air. She smacks it and then her arms start moving as fast as Jade’s did at my house.

  Aunt Liz and a few of my other aunts are watching her and laughing. She’s bragging about her only granddaughter and how smart she is.

  Two arms wrap around me, and a chin rests on my shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” Dean asks.

  My hands cover his. “Nothing really.”

  “I’m assuming since Sky just punched my shoulder but smiled at the same time that we’re good?”

  I giggle. “Yeah, another Team Dean inductee, well…”

  “Your mom will come around, Chels. Just give her time,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “Come and have fun with your cousins.”

  He leads me back to the table and I slide into the seat next to him.

  Mikey’s smile is bigger than when he’s about to get laid. Maybe he knew something I never did.

  My mom’s eyes flicker to us every now and then, but she never says a word and neither does my dad.

  “Mother fucker!” I walk down the hall, thankful that there’s no clients or potential donors in the office. “I fucking hate Mondays.”

  “First off, language. Second of all, I have a soft spot for Mondays.” Victoria types away on her computer.

  I roll my eyes. “Still in that love bubble I see.”

  She points a newly manicured nail my way. “You are too, unless something just went horribly wrong this weekend.” She stops typing, spinning her chair my way. “Did it?”

  “Well, I can’t find the fucking string to my IUD, so now I gotta make a doctor’s appointment. I don’t even know if it came out or it’s floating around somewhere in my body right now.” I cringe.

  Victoria’s face pales.

  I point to her, circling my finger around her face. “You take those thoughts and spin them back your way. I’m not pregnant.”

  “Oh good.” She lets out a breath and brings her hand to her chest. “You guys use condoms?”

  “First off, I had an IUD, they’re like ninety-nine percent effective.”

  I ignore the boulder in my stomach reminding me that it’s not the getting pregnant part that’s my problem.

  “Not if it falls out,” she adds helpfully.

  I stand, wishing I would’ve said nothing to her.

  “I should call the doctor and see when they can get me in.” I head to my office, my heels clicking on the floor.

  “I’d be happy to go with you.” She calls out from her desk.

  “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Plus, you don’t want to be there when my hoo-hah is all open for investigation.” I shut the door to my office, sit in my chair and the entire memory flashes in my head like a car crash. Slow motion and just as hurtful and painful. I cannot go through this again when Dean and I are just now getting to a good place.

  I pull out my cell phone, seeing a text from Dean, but ignore it since the doctor is more important at this point.

  The receptionist puts me on hold forever, but after I explain what happened, she gives me an appointment for the next day at three. Not ideal, but I’ll take what I can.

  I pull the text from Dean up.

  Dean: What do you want for dinner?

  Such a simple question. One he’s sent me before, but this time I see the path we’re going down. My apartment sits deserted most of the time since Dean’s is closer to downtown and about ten times as nice.

  Me: I’m thinking about chilling at home tonight. Is that cool?

  The three dots appear and then disappear until another text pops up.

  Dean: You want alone time?

  I stare at my computer for a second, staring at the selfie I took of me and Dean by the lakefront two weeks ago.

  Me: Well…

  I type and then I delete.

  Dean: It’s cool if you do. My hand doesn’t do nearly the job your mouth does, but I’m sure you can make up for it next time. LOL

  Me: Assumptions, assumptions.

  Dean: In all seriousness, I’m good with you wanting a night alone. I can take care of myself.

  A small part of me is saying tell him, tell him, tell him that if you come over, there is no sex because you have no idea where the little thingy that’s not supposed to come out went. The other part says, but if we tell him, he’s going to think we could be pregnant and then goodbye easy times and hello dredging up the past.

  Me: I just have to hammer down some things here and I might go and crash. I’ll definitely be up for some phone sex though.

  Dean: Well then, I’ll practice my deep gruff voice and sharpen up my dirty talk.

  Me: Your dirty talk is just fine.

  Dean: Not when I can’t use my hands and mouth at the same time.

  I laugh, my thumbs poised on the screen.

  Me: Then it’s a date. Ten o’clock. You call me.

  Dean: Have Rambo ready to go. ;) See you at ten.

  I wait for more, but there’s nothing. Maybe Dean really has changed because years ago he would’ve protested any time apart.

  Two hours later, Victoria walks into my office with a black box with a pink ribbon wrapped around it. “Another special delivery.” She places it on the corner of my desk.

  I snatch the note off and it only reads:

  For your eyes only.

  “Thanks, Vic.” I sit back down at my desk and return to the email I was sending.

  She clears her throat.

  “Sorry, it’s private.” I glance over to her.

  Her smile falters. “Oh, I see how it is. Let me guess that’s not going in the trash.” She smiles and then grabs the knob of the door. “I’ll shut this for your privacy.”

  I circle in my chair and the smile won’t wipe off my face. “Thanks.”

  She nods and playfully rolls her eyes before closing the door.

  My chair almost crashes into the wall behind me from how fast I spring up to my feet. I untie the ribbon and tear off the matching pink tissue paper and then collapse back into my chair.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  My feet tap on the floor and I can barely hold in the scream I’m dying to let out. This man knows me better than I know myself.

  I pick up the piece of paper labeled Instructions.

  Use the bath salts to take a long and warm bath at nine o’clock.

  Soak until the water runs luke warm.

  Dry yourself with the towel.

  Lotion your body up with my favorite smell on you.

  Slip into the nightie.

  Have the vibrator next to you in your bed.

  Plug earbuds into your phone and answer my call at ten pm sharp or be prepared for a spanking.

  My smile doesn’t tease my lips, it lights up my entire face as I inspect each item. The silk of the lingerie, the softness of the towel.

  I don’t send him a thank you text because I’m sure he knows I got it and my thank you will be later tonight when his cum shoots out him like a rocket.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  At ten o’clock sharp my phone rings.

  “Tell me you followed the directions?” He’s lowered his voice to a deep timbre and my limbs dissolve into my mattress.

  “I have.”

  “Good girl,” he says softly. “First of all, you can’t touch yourself until I tell you that you can.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  “So compliant tonight.”

  “Well—”

  “Run your hand down your chest, through the valley between your tits and slide the nightie up, exposing yourself.”

  My fingers graze the silk fabric and I pull up the edge of my nightie. The coolness of the ceiling fan makes my center come alive.

  “Slide your finger along your pussy and tell me how wet you are.”

  I do just that finding myself already soaked. Not that I’m surprised.

  “I’m wet.”

  “How wet? Wet enough I could slide right in?”

&n
bsp; “Yes.” I let out a breath imagining how he’d be touching me if he was here right now.

  “Good start, but I like you dripping.”

  Me too, I want to scream. Bring it on.

  “Put your finger in your mouth and tell me how you taste, but run that finger up the front of yourself, letting the nightie slide up another inch.”

  I do as directed, my finger hovering over my erect nipples that beg for attention.

  “Do not touch your tits,” he orders in his domineering voice.

  How does he know?

  “Just once?” I practically beg.

  “Chelsea.” My name wraps around me like the softest of silk.

  “Fine,” I groan.

  “Lick your finger, slowly teasing yourself with only the tip at first.”

  I twirl my tongue around the top of my finger, and it gets me thinking, I have no idea if he’s undressed. This whole taking a back seat thing is hard.

  “I’m swirling my finger like I do the tip of your cock.”

  His groan leaks out over the line.

  “Why I’m busy tasting how sweet I am, why don’t you fist your hard, thick cock for me.”

  A low chuckle falls out of him. “You just can’t let me take control, can you?”

  “We do this together.”

  Another chuckle, but he doesn’t fight it and the rustling of sheets says he’s doing as I asked.

  “My hand is on my dick.”

  I let my finger pop out of my mouth. “You slipped out.” Making another exaggerated slurping noise, I get more aroused from tasting myself.

  “Leave your finger in and then cup your tit with your other hand, pinching your nipple.”

  “Thank God.” I lower my free hand and put pressure on my breast like Dean does, using my forefinger and thumb to pinch my nipple.

  “Harder,” he demands, and my fingers tighten. “How does that feel?”

  “Not nearly as good as when you do it.”