by Piper Rayne
The boys walk away, one of them complaining that it’s not fair because he wasn’t able to wrestle me. The girl slowly raises from her seated form, her eyes on me the entire time. “Cute dog.”
Roarke unwinds Lucy’s leash from the tree. “Time to see Nickel, girl.” He pats her head and swings the backpack over his shoulder.
Leaning into my ear, he whispers, “I’m glad for the interruption because I can’t wait much longer to have you.”
I don’t feel any different and if there hadn’t been so many people around, who knows what might have happened on that blanket in the park.
When I’m with Roarke, I forget who I am, where I am—everything revolves around him and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lucy runs after Nickel the minute Roarke unleashes her inside his condo.
“You’re going to regret having us here,” I say, placing my purse on the entry table.
He sets my overnight bag that he insisted we pick up on the way over down by the door along with Lucy’s leash.
“I regret nothing when it comes to you.” His chest hits my back, his hands sliding up my ribcage. “Remember what I said at the park?”
I nod.
“You know I never say anything without following through.”
I nod again, the warmth between my legs intensifying the farther his hands venture.
“I’ll let you choose. Breakfast bar, dining room table or bed?”
“Tough choice,” I say, tapping my chin in jest. “I’ll go with bedroom.”
He spins me around, bends down, and lifts me over his shoulder. “Roarke!” As I hang there, he splays his hand possessively on my ass and his fingertips slide under the elastic seam of my panties, finding the wetness between my legs.
I’m familiar with the journey to his bedroom. He’s carried me to bed a few times when I fell asleep on the couch. And we’ve been in this exact position on more than one occasion.
I’ll admit—I don’t hate the whole caveman thing all of the time.
He flops me down on the bed and my body bounces up in the air. “Thanks for being gentle.”
He strips off his t-shirt and moves for his belt. “I’m not feeling very gentle today.”
I eye him, rising to my knees and crawling toward him.
His shorts fall to the ground and he kicks them out of the way leaving him in a pair of black boxer briefs.
My nail scrapes along the prominent bulge in the front and my lips cast small kisses on his chest. “I think we should get you some red boxer briefs or blue ones at the very least.”
He stares down at me with a smirk. “You don’t like my underwear selection?”
God, he’s so gorgeous. How am I here with him right now?
“I just think black is kind of boring.”
His hand molds to my cheek turning my face up to his. I cup his package, my thumb running over the tip.
“Do you think I’m boring?”
I lick up his torso, crawling off the bed one leg at a time until I prop up on my tiptoes, grabbing each side of his face. “You? Boring? Not in the slightest.”
This time I control the kiss. It’s my tongue sliding in his mouth. It’s my lips devouring his. He stands there, his hands venturing up under my shirt and unhooking my bra. The strapless satin falls to the floor and my pebbled nipples brush along the fabric of my tank top, only growing harder.
“Hmm…” he moans.
His fingertips inch up my chest and goose bumps are left in their wake. My breasts ache to feel his strong palms massaging them.
I break the kiss before I let him take control. “I’m not feeling very gentle either.”
I fall to my knees, taking each side of his boxers down with me until they pool at his ankles. He steps out of them and I push them to the side coming face-to-face with his engorged length.
Roarke has a lot of things to brag about and wonder cock is one of them. It points up to his navel and his balls are drawn in tight. He’s already halfway there and I imagine once I take him in my mouth, he’ll become unglued in a matter of minutes.
“I want you to fuck my mouth,” I say as my hand wraps around his length and my mouth covers the tip. My tongue slides along the ridges of his shaft and back around to the tip.
“Damn, Firecracker. You’re something else.” His head falls back and his hands slide into my hair.
I let him stretch my mouth when he pushes in before releasing him slowly, over and over again and he groans a little longer each time. I tease him to the brink, igniting shivers up my back as he thrusts in and out of my mouth.
I’ve never hated giving blow jobs, but I didn’t exactly pull out my pom-poms when it was my turn to siege the beeje. With Roarke though, seeing him hanging on to his control by a thread, waiting to see what I’m going to do next...his moans that turn into growls that turn into grunts that turn into expletives. And then when his hands tighten in my strands telling me he’s trying to hold out as long as he can, but I’m making it impossible. The whole experience is a turn on for me and something I want to repeat again and again.
Tipping my head, I suck one of his balls into my mouth as my hand runs up and down his shaft, my thumb spreading the pre-cum along the slit of his tip. Covering his dick with my mouth, I deep throat him again and let him slide out of my mouth—over and over as I take control with one hand wrapped around his girth and my other teasing his balls.
“I’m gonna come.” His hips rock harder and I take him as deep as possible until the warmth of his release coats my throat. After a final few jerks, I let him slide slowly out past my lips and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Just when I think I have you all figured out, you blow me like a pro.” He holds his hand out for me and I rise to my feet.
“What are you suggesting?” I ask wide eyed.
He chuckles. “Just that I have some repaying to do.”
Roarke gently nudges me back and I fall to the mattress. This time he’s the one to fall to his knees, and just like he described earlier he slides his hands up my legs, slips off my panties, and he buries his face under my skirt and repays me in full—with interest.
Later that day, Roarke and I snuggle on the couch with Lucy pawing at Nickel’s cat toys while Nickel stares on with a grumpy look on his face.
“Why do you have a cat?” I ask.
His gaze darts to where Nickel is laying on the top of the ottoman. “I shouldn’t tell you. You already think I’m soft.”
I poke him in the side. His hand covers the spot and he captures my hand when I try to do it again.
“He was a stray. The last kitten in a free box outside a liquor store I sometimes stop at on my home from work. I felt bad for the little furball so I took him in on a temporary basis, but…” His voice trails off, his attention once again shifting to Nickel who looks like he might pounce on top of Lucy.
I smile and he shakes his head, grabbing the remote from my free hand.
“I feel the need to put on Die Hard or The Terminator. Something manly.” The screen flickers as he flips through the channels.
“Nothing wrong with Dirty Dancing.” I try to snatch the remote back.
He drops the remote when it gets on some show about surviving in the desert. I pick it up and click it back to Dirty Dancing.
“For the record, I think it’s sweet.” I lay my head on his bare chest.
“I remember when you didn’t think I was sweet.”
I lift up and straddle him and right on cue Lucy barks. She does this sometimes when we’re touchy-feely with each other, the little twat swatter.
His hands fall to my ass and as usual, his fingers delve under my panties. It’s a habit of his I’ve come to love. As though he doesn’t even want even the thinnest silk barrier between us.
“I’m woman enough to admit when I was wrong.”
“So you were wrong?” His eyes dip to my chest. Though it’s covered in his DePaul law t-shirt, you
’d think I was as bare-chested as him with the way his nostrils flare. Using his strength, he pulls me flush against him, greeting me with his hardness.
“I was wrong. This one time.” I hold up one finger to make my point.
He chuckles and rocks his hips.
Letting out an involuntary sigh, my hands fall to his shoulders as I continue to grind against him to get off. My thirst will never be quenched with this man.
His phone vibrates on the coffee table, but his lips continue to sprinkle kisses along my neck.
Lucy barks at the phone now. I can’t see her but I can hear her up on all fours.
“Should you get that?” I ask, my eyes falling shut from the inducing pleasure he’s creating.
“No.” His word comes out as a throaty whisper.
Will we ever get enough of one another? Will there be a time when he’ll want to sleep in another bedroom or his hand won’t slide along my ass as I pass him by. Will he stop cornering me to sneak a kiss or ask me to sit with him to keep him entertained while he’s making a meal? Will all the little intimate moments fade away like they did in my marriage? My heart tells me no, but there’s that annoying part of my brain that says I’m living in dreamland.
The phone starts vibrating right after it stops.
Roarke’s lips pause on my skin until it stops ringing again. He positions my lips over his giving me the deepest and hungriest kiss I’ve ever gotten, besides our first night together. I sink into him, my body hyper-aware that it’s been granted another ride on the Roarke roller coaster.
One short beep signaling a text sounds from his phone and then the phone begins vibrating again.
I dislodge myself from his lap, but he locks his arms over my legs so they stay strewn across his lap. Reaching forward, he picks up the phone to see who’s calling. The smoothness of his palm running up and down my legs stops and his thumb scrolls down the screen.
“I’ll be right back.” He gently lifts my legs, stands and places them back on the couch.
Lucy jumps into his spot right away followed seconds later by Nickel who takes a seat on the top of the couch cushions.
This is the second time this week he’s sheltered himself away for a call. I don’t hear anything, not even a mumble until he comes out ten minutes later, after Baby’s dad finds out she’s been sleeping with the dance instructor. Just as Baby’s world crashes down around her, mine does too.
Roarke emerges from the hall in a pair of jeans, a polo shirt, and shoes. He’s even run some gel through his hair. Without missing a beat, he walks directly toward me, leaning down. “I have to run out really quick. I shouldn’t be long.” He places a chaste kiss on my lips.
At first, I’m stunned. What does he mean he has to leave right now?
“Where are you going?” I slide out from under Lucy’s body to follow him to the door.
“I have something I need to deal with for a client.” He waits, wrapping his arms around my body, pulling me into him. The roughness of his jeans pressed against my t-shirt clad body is not nearly as nice as his cotton pajama pants. “It kills me to leave you, especially when you’re dressed in almost nothing.” He presses his lips to my forehead.
“Then don’t.” I grip harder around his middle and his lips fall to the tip of my nose.
“If I had a choice…” His words trail off and I lean my cheek on his shirt, smelling the newly sprayed cologne he put on. “Order in some sushi and I’ll be back to eat it off you.” His lips linger above mine for a too-brief moment.
I release my hold on him reminding myself that if he’s leaving for something other than work I have no control of that. My relationship with Todd taught me that one thing. If Roarke wants to cheat on me, I can’t do anything about it.
He presses lips to mine, my cheek cradled in his palm. His tongue slides into my mouth and all the doubts of his rushed leaving tonight vanish as I rise to my tiptoes to keep the kiss going. One of his hands slides around my back, pushing me into his hold and we stay lip-locked for another few minutes. By the time he closes the kiss, I’m heaving for breath with swollen lips.
“That way you won’t forget me.” He smiles suggesting that’s a figure of speech. Just a tease, but his words sear right into my biggest wound.
Without saying more, he grabs his wallet from the front table, shoving it into his pocket and shutting the door behind him.
I don’t have long to stay in my own head because my cell phone starts ringing immediately. Running over to grab it, the name flashing only brings another layer of anxiety to my already sinking stomach.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
My phone continues to ring in my hand while Lucy jumps on all fours on the couch tilting her head back and forth at the noise. Silencing the sound, it vibrates on his glass coffee table, Scarlett’s name flashing on the screen in glaring letters.
Once the phone stops, I sit on the edge of the plush couch and stare at it, wondering if she’ll leave a message. Is that where Roarke ran out to? To meet David to conjure up a plan to take everything from Scarlett?
A beep rings out in the now quiet apartment. Baby and Johnny’s mouths move on the screen with no sound.
Picking up my phone, I cross my fingers that Scarlett is going to go on and on about how busy she is with David and the kids.
From the minute I hear her voice I know that’s not the case. It’s shallow and has lost the light, airy tone it usually holds.
“Hey, Han, it’s been forever. I miss you. Definitely need to do lunch. I’ll be in the city next week for a meeting with a lawyer. David filed for divorce, but you probably already know that. I’ll be damned if he gets Brody and Nell. Call me back. I could use some advice from someone who’s been there.”
The line dies and my hand grips the phone tighter.
Is Roarke representing David? God, I hope not, but I clearly heard his assistant saying Mr. Quinton. It would be way too much of a coincidence, especially when you add the ties between David and Todd. Please tell me I’m wrong.
As I see Johnny mouth the classic line about Baby in the corner, I dial Scarlett, my curiosity much too piqued not to find out right away who is representing both of them. Maybe I can actually sway her to meet with Roarke.
“HAN!” she screeches.
I don’t remember being quite so happy when I was getting divorced.
I lean back into Roarke’s overstuffed sofa, Lucy curling up next to me, Nickel leaning his head into mine.
“I just heard your message. I’m sorry, Scar. I didn’t know.”
I can hear the kids behind her.
“Well, he’s just not happy apparently. Wants to return to the bachelor lifestyle.” She’s wishy washy about it and I want to ask about cheating but it’s none of my business. “Hold on, Nell,” she tells her daughter.
“It’s not easy and I can’t imagine with the kids. It has to be even harder.”
“I said no. Don’t do that. Sorry, Han, my nanny is sick with the flu so I’m in charge. It’s bath time. Of course they were silent when I first called you, and I want to do one thing and it’s insane in the membrane.” She laughs and I wonder if she’s been drinking.
“I hate to ask you this, but who is representing David?”
She cackles a laugh. “I know exactly why you’re asking.”
It’s official, I think she’s maybe had one too many glasses of wine or she’s on some happy drugs. My therapist tried to put me on them, too, but I refused. No time like the present to deal with your shit.
“So who is it?” I ask.
“BRODY!” she screams. “Out of the bath. You cannot squirt your sister in the eye.”
I stay on the line knowing I should let her go, but the assistant’s voice rings in my head from the other day.
“I’m sorry Hannah. I guess I don’t overpay my nanny after all.” She laughs again. “As far as David and me, it’s hard. After Brody we still went out most nights—dinners, shows, clubs. Then Nell came and with two kids it’s harde
r. David still wanted to go out all the time. I couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle. He probably has some slut on the side, but I honestly don’t know. He’s a guy’s guy you know. He still has his condo in the city. You’ll probably see him around.” Another kid says something but she covers the receiver. “Daddy is here tomorrow.” It’s muffled but I still catch the words.
“If you need to talk…”
“Thanks. I was going to reach out to you to talk about representation. You know David, he only wants the best and since he filed I was at a disadvantage.” My heart lurches in my chest. So Roarke probably is representing David. “But I found myself a pretty damn good lawyer, too, and I’m not going to let him leave me with nothing.”
“I’m glad you found someone. Can I ask…”
“NELL!” she screams.
There’s a lot of splashing and screaming in the background and then a crash of glass. “NO!” Scarlett’s voice sounds farther away now. Before I can finish my question, the line dies.
I hold my phone out in front of me seeing the call ended. My head falls back in defeat. I just wanted one answer. I’m not even sure why it matters. So what if Roarke is representing David? That should mean nothing to me. Except it does. Can I continue to date a man who represents asshole men who want to leave their wives destitute?
That question plagues me for the next few hours as I watch the movie that comes on after Dirty Dancing. I have sushi delivered and wrap up the leftovers and put them in the fridge.
A text rings out from my phone four hours after Roarke left.
Roarke: Sorry, I’m going to be longer than I thought. Get some sleep and I’ll be there when you wake up.
Me: K
I place my phone on the counter and move over to his floor to ceiling windows that look out over the city. Leaning my shoulder on the glass, I stare out at the city, wondering where he is and more importantly who he’s with.