by Leigh Lennon
By the time the beauty with the silver hair who was decked out in all black moved her head up, it was just her and me and the baby. “Shit, Elliot is so laid-back. I never let my baby boy out of my sight. And if you wanted to hold him, you had to prove you were sanitized and germ free.”
I chuckled at her words because this was the case with Cami when we brought Maggie home from the hospital. We didn’t go anywhere for a good three months.
“You have kids?” she asked, though her eyes had not left little Gunnar.
How do I answer this? I was essentially a father to Maggie for almost three years. I loved her like my daughter, too, along with Bridget, but I couldn’t give Cami and Dane what they needed. I wasn’t whole at the time. And now, I still had an overwhelming affection for them, but I’d never be that father figure again—just Uncle Jack.
“Um, no, but I have two little girls who call me Uncle Jack. They’re pretty important to me.”
She nodded, still peering down. “Oh, hell, now that I know your name, I should introduce myself.” She took a deep breath, rocking the baby back and forth in her arms. She glanced up at me for a brief second, and when I thought she’d go back to staring at the baby, her gaze remained locked with mine. “I’m Clara, by the way.”
“Jack,” I replied, “but I guess you already knew this. I won’t make you call me uncle.” What the fuck did I just say? Was I this far out of practice with a person I was attracted to? The oddest thing happened though. When I wanted to kick my own ass, she started to laugh hysterically.
“Now, you’re a funny one. I needed that today of all days.” She paused, an odd silence between us when she began a beat later. “But I appreciate you not making me call you Uncle Jack.”
It was odd. At that moment, I thought she was almost flirting with me, but I wasn’t sure. Could she be just as out of practice with her game as I obviously was?
The long pause after her comment became awkward until a small lady with Daimen’s features almost pummeled Clara. “Yep, that’s enough time with my nephew. I mean, I love you and all, but hand him over,” she demanded with her hands on her waist.
“Wait, there are two more babies to hog, so why do you have to take this one?” Clara’s pout was adorable.
“Because I’m the aunt, and I say so.” Her hands were out, and she was not leaving without the little boy.
After taking a long deep breath, Clara surrendered the baby. “Okay, you make a valid point.” The second the little boy was in Daimen’s sister’s hands, she left quickly without another word, then Clara’s gaze was back on me. Her slight smile brought out the dimple on the right side of her cheek, and it added to her beauty. “Hey, would you like a beer?” I offered, seeing the choice not far from me. I could retreat to it and be back in her presence before she could move on to the next man who had his eyes on her.
“Sure, that’s great, but make it something good.” I turned to take the less than ten paces it’d take to get to the beer, but then I twisted my body around, winking at her.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” Did I sound desperate? Did I fucking care? Nope, not in the least.
I walked over to the mock bar the billionaires had set up nearest me. I didn’t want to give any asshole with a penis the chance to pick her up. She’d gotten comfortable on the couch, away from the crowd, next to the windows that had a view of the skyline of Chicago. Giving her a Guinness, she smiled, then pulled something out of her purse. I let out a deep belly chuckle when she produced a bottle opener attached to her keys.
“Where have you been my whole life?” I mock teased, all while she handed me the bottle opener. I didn’t miss her name and logo on it and smirked. I knew who she was with Elliot’s help, but seeing it made it that much more real.
“So tell me, Jack, what do you do for a living?” She leaned back on the couch while I moved over to the empty seat, sitting down near her.
“I’m a lawyer.” It was all I offered at first. I wanted to get this beauty to talk, and if it started with asking me questions, I was game.
“All right, so I’ll bite. What kind of lawyer?” Turning her body toward mine, she tipped back her beer and took a long swig. A girl who drank dark beer? She already owned my heart.
“I’m an entertainment lawyer. I was in LA for a while, but I’m from Chicago. Those girls who call me Uncle Jack made me want to come home, so I travel when I have to.”
Bringing one leg up, she placed it against the back of the couch and propped her other leg next to it. She was getting comfortable, and I was more than happy with this.
“Entertainment law. Actors mostly.” Her eyes were fixed on every move I made, and my eyes were fixed on where her eyes were. “I’m sort of all over the place, I guess you could say. But it’s good for business.”
“Well, Jack, the uncle of two little girls who got you to come back to the Windy City, do you have a last name?”
The question stopped me because I’d changed it after leaving Chicago the first time. My hesitation had her moving back, farther away from me. “I didn’t think the question of your last name would be hard to answer.” Her words had a little bit of a bite to them, and I remembered Elliot telling me she was divorced. Hurt and distrust must live in this girl.
“It’ll sound odd, but yeah, I guess I sort of do have a hard time with my name.” Her eyes fell, and I lifted my hands to let her know there was more. “I changed my name after leaving Chicago, not for any reason other than I hated the man I’d become.” Somehow, opening up had her softening, and she relaxed again. “See, I’d experienced a loss, a large one. So much so, I walked away from love. Remember those girls I told you about from a past relationship? I left them. It took me several years to find myself, and I thought having a new name would reinvent who I was, and I did. But at the end of the day, I’m Jack. My friends still call me this, but at work, I’m Jonathan Calypso.”
She placed her beer between her legs, then cocked her head to the side. “Wait, I know that name.” Closing her eyes, she attempted to recall a memory. I did have a very public case not too long ago. If anything, she’d heard of me from it. “You represented Miles Sterling.” I wouldn’t confirm or deny it. I still protected my clients, no matter what others saw on the news. “Hell, I was so happy for him. And good for them—the three of them that he stood up for what he believed in.” Her declaration held a sadness to her words, but I wasn’t sure why.
When I knew this topic was over, I started my own little investigation to learn more about her. “So are you going to tell me anything about you?”
Pursing her lips, she began, “I’m divorced, and I have a little boy who’s almost four. I’m an author. I write historical romance. I met Daria at college, and we were roommates with the same major. Her brother, a year ahead of her, was roommates with the man I ended up marrying and then divorced four years later.” She stopped to take a breath. “But what you see with me is what you get.”
Oh, and I wanted what I saw. I wanted it very much. I moved my body so I was in front of her. And for the first time in years, I took a leap of faith. “So, Clara Ashley, mother of a little boy, best friend to Daria, author of historical romance. What would you say if I were to tell you I like what I see? But more, I want what I see.”
She pretty much hopped up from the couch, and I thought for sure I’d scared her. I fucking scared her, and my heart fell. It wasn’t until she leaned forward, and I caught sight of her busty cleavage when she said, “I’d tell you to come catch me.” She made her way to the other side of the house, the more private part of what I knew of the billionaire’s home, and she was around the corner by the time her words hit me. I too almost jumped off the couch, as much as my prosthetic would allow me. But, challenge accepted. I was going to catch her—one way or another.
4
Clara
Had I lost my ever-loving mind? It took me a second to answer confidently—no. I was taking control of my life again. It had taken me three yea
rs. The first year was lived in a constant state of anger, wondering why Bodhi would do this to us. The last two were healing, but after today and my breakdown before picking up Declan and seeing my ex-husband, I was ready to move on.
And this stunning man, who was flirting with me in the most awkward way, was who I wanted right then. This man was good looking. Was he older than me? Hell yeah, his hair was short, a light brownish-blond, and he had a little bit of gray poking through. I loved me a sexy silver fox, and this man was just that. He had to be in his forties, and since I just turned thirty last month, I was positive he was a good ten years older than me. But it only made him more desirable. At his age, he had to know what he wanted, and he made no qualms letting me know it was me.
When he opened up a little about not liking the man he was, I could agree because I hadn’t liked the mad and angry woman who’d lived in me the past couple of years either. His eyes, a sharp indigo blue, were another reason I wanted this man. In them, was the most sincerity I’d seen in years. As if what I was saying was the most important thing, and he had been waiting on the edge of his seat to learn all I was willing to tell him.
Making my way down the hallway, I knew this house a little. I wasn’t going to stop at the first bathroom since there was a more private one at the end of the house where we’d be more secluded. I was almost to my destination when his hands caught me and pulled me back to him. Turning me around, he pulled my body flush with his. I looked up, and my excitement increased at the five o’clock shadow I’d missed earlier. His left hand was around my back, resting right above my ass, and his other hand was on my shoulder.
“So tell me, Clara Ashley, now that I’ve caught you, what am I going to do with you?” His pitch dipped, and it was lower, so much lower. And gravelly. And sexy. My panties were going to combust.
“I’m not sure, Jack Calypso. What is it that you want to do to me?” My own pitch had changed, it, too, was lower and needy, and again, with his indigo blue eyes staring deep into my soul, I’d known my panties would certainly ignite.
“Clara, that is a dangerous question. Because if I were to answer you honestly, I’m almost positive I’d scare the hell out of you.” His lips had moved to my ear, and my body immediately was covered in goose bumps, but it was the needy, “must have his mouth on me in a second” sort of goose bumps that had been absent from my life in years.
“I don’t think you could scare me, Jack. As a matter of fact, the only thing you could do to scare me would be if you were to walk away from me right now.”
His hand moved from my shoulder, and his finger swiped a piece of my silver curl from my face. “Fuck, foxy, I don’t think I could physically walk away from you even if I wanted to, and I sure as fuck don’t want to.”
It was then, at that moment of his proclamation, his stare was powerful, and in it was his intention. His mouth was full, the top a little narrower than the bottom, and as they opened, I understood this kiss would be the gateway to so much more. When his lips captured my own, his little nip at my mouth was succulent, and the little moan he let escape from it fueled me to deepen the kiss, letting him know my needs were instant. And he realized it when his tongue searched for my own, and they both danced together in harmony.
His hand on my ass moved between him and me, using my pants as a way to pull me even closer to him. All while our kiss was not ending, not if I had something to do with it. My hands, which had been useless, found his own, between us, and I grabbed his finger, almost as a dare to place it where he wanted it.
He didn’t disappoint. It moved farther north, and he couldn’t hide nor did I think he wanted to hide the erection I was palming on the outside of his slacks. His hand did its due diligence, letting me know what he wanted, and then found its way up my shirt between the fabric of my bra and the bare skin of my tits. I moaned, a little precursor that only made him increase the motion of his tongue with mine along with the small, pleasurable pinches his thumb and index finger were invoking on my nipples. When his head pulled away from mine, I let him even though I missed his taste instantly.
“My place is downstairs across the street.” His words were so final, and it took a second for my brain to come to its senses. I met him less than thirty minutes ago, and I was about to let him mount me and ride me until I came. Oh, yeah, that was what I wanted, but I also didn’t want to think.
“No, here, now. It’s what I want.” Kicking the door to the private bathroom open, he didn’t take but a second to grab me by my waist and pull me in. Then he shut the door behind him and locked it—we wanted our privacy. More so, we both had plans, and I wasn’t walking away until I had one orgasm that could help me rebuild all I’d lost in the past several years.
When he lifted me up on the counter, his touch connected with my stomach under my top, and I was stopped in his gaze. “Say the word and I’ll walk away.” His lips snaked to my ears, and his words spurred me on.
“Don’t you dare fucking walk away.” It was a warning he heeded because my shirt was then yanked over my head. Moving his face to the middle of my bra, he buried himself in my cleavage, suckling the exposed skin.
“I fucking love your answer.” His fingers found their way to the back of my bra, unbuttoning it, and then my breasts were on display for him. My own fingers found their destination at his belt. With one hand, I pulled both him and his manhood a little bit closer to me. “And I love this, too.” When my fingers pulled down his zipper, his pants dropped but not all the way. They seemed to be caught on something below the knee, but I had other ideas on my mind. Dipping my fingers in his boxers, I palmed his erection. The little whimper emitted from his lips showcased his vulnerability, and I loved it.
“Shit, Clara, you can’t keep doing this much longer.” An idea hit me, and I stilled.
“Fuck, I forgot my purse. It has a condom in there.”
A broad grin overtook his face, and when I had thought he was gorgeous before, it was nothing compared to the happiness with his upturned lips. “Yeah, foxy, I got you covered.” Pulling his wallet from his back pocket, he threw it on the counter.
“Look at you, prepared Peter. Gotta say, I love it.”
His chuckle quaked my body. There were so many things sexy about Jack Calypso, and his laughter was nearing the very top. “Prepared Peter. I’ll show you a peter that’s prepared.”
It was my turn to laugh, and I whipped my head back. His face came back into view, and his lips found mine again, both dancing and dueling for control all at once. His hands worked the button of my black pants, lifting me off the counter just enough to pull the fabric separating what we both wanted from my waist.
Grabbing his wallet, I chuckled when I opened it enough to find the condom, but it was protected with some bubble wrap. My eyes knitted together in a silent question.
“Yeah, you have to be careful. You don’t want something piercing it.”
I giggled again. “You weren’t kidding. You will have a peter that’s certainly prepared.” We both laughed and not only was this sexy but it was also fun. Taking the condom, I tore it open with my teeth, and because I had to look at his glory, I rolled it down his long and thick cock as small curses erupted from him. “Not yet.” He dropped to his knees, pushing my legs apart. The second his lips hit my clit, I leaned back against the mirror with my hands in his hair as inspiration for whatever his skilled tongue had in mind for me.
His tongue tortured me for minutes by pushing me almost to the edge and then retreating, just to repeat the same type of agony again. And though it was a form of torment on me, it was also an erotic motion of his inventiveness toward my pleasure.
It was after his fifth time of removing his tongue that he allowed me to come, and the orgasm was intense. This man was a passionate lover, and if his cock was as talented as his tongue, I was in for one hell of a ride.
He pushed his body up, and his tongue connected with mine in a sweet kiss that deepened. “Taste yourself, foxy. You are fucking better than a
cherry pie.” This little compliment made me smile, and I welcomed the deep thrust of his cock inside me when he entered me slowly.
“Oh, fuck.” It had been a while. Almost three years, to be exact. I wasn’t a prude and loved sex, but trusting again was not something that came easy to me. But a one-night stand would be a great segue for this. Even when he was deep inside me, pushing farther and farther, this one-night stand was shaping up to be a good ending to the shitty day that greeted me when I’d opened my eyes this morning.
“Hell, foxy, you are tight as fuck.” And I loved being tight as fuck because I sensed every movement inside me. He pushed against my walls, and it had to be one of the best fucks I’d ever had.
“Yeah, you’re not so bad either,” I replied, and when I did, his mouth caught mine again. I loved that he was multitasking by both fucking me and kissing me.
“Shit, foxy, not sure I’m going to last much longer.” His thrusts were deeper, and with each one, I thought my moans had urged him to push even farther inside me.
“I’m so close.” And when my declaration was verbally expressed, I came and came hard. “Ah, fuck. You are one talented man,” I barely croaked out, but he was good, and he needed to know this.
His orgasm hit him just as hard, and he held me tight, whispering in my ear, “Fuck, foxy, you little thing. That was…” His words got lost, but he didn’t have to say anything. It was not just good, it was what I needed, and with my naked body in a virtual stranger’s arms, I was deliriously happy.
I sat against the mirror while he leaned down and grabbed my clothes, throwing them my way. I was the only one naked because his pants never made it past his knees. “Um, I don’t think I’ve ever done that.” I hadn’t let the fact that I fucked someone I’d known for all of thirty minutes fill me with shame.
“I can’t say I have either. However, I don’t regret it, not for one minute.” His words pulled at the smile on my lips when our eyes met, and he smirked at my reaction.