Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1)

by Charity Ferrell

  “Can I use your phone?”

  I peek at Heather, taking in her expectant expression. “Sure. Do you need to make a call?”

  Since the FaceTime call with Noah, I’m reluctant to let her use my phone.

  Crumbs fall onto her shirt and the chair as she talks with chips in her mouth, “I want to check Facebook.”

  I stand. “You can use my laptop.”

  She shakes her head, more chomping. “I also want to call Pat. I heard asshole Joey already has a new girlfriend.”

  How tragic.

  “Should you care about that?” I ask, grabbing my laptop that’s charging on an end table.

  “He was my husband,” she snaps. “Obviously, I should. You’d know that if you had a husband.”

  I roll my eyes, fighting back the urge to fling the phone at her head.

  She wiggles her fingers. “I also need to call Mom to ask when she’s picking me up tomorrow.”

  I hesitate a moment before handing her my phone. As she takes it, my eyes stay on her hand, and I feel like a cheating spouse as she uses her greasy chip fingers to scroll down the screen.

  Please, Cohen, don’t call or text.

  It might be wrong, being all secretive, but what else am I supposed to do?

  Heather calls Pat and spends thirty minutes interrogating her about Joey’s every move.

  “Can you do me a favor?” she asks me, my phone in her hand after she ends her Joey drama.

  “Depends on what it is,” I answer, not catering to her like my parents do.

  “Talk to Cohen for me.”

  “For what?” I play dumb.

  “I want to see Noah.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “Why not?” she snarls.

  “Cohen hates you, for one.”

  “We can talk and work things out. He always loved our make-up sex.” She shimmies her shoulders. “I’m sure I could still do a good job. He loved it when I did this thing with my tongue—”

  I cut her off, “I’d rather not hear about that.”

  She sighs. “We had our ups and downs—”

  I interrupt her again, “Downs? You left your family.”

  She narrows her green eyes at me and swipes her straight brown hair off her shoulder. “Whose side are you on? I’m your sister. He’s nothing to you.”

  “That’s enough.” I hold out my hand. “Give me my phone back. I have shit to do.”

  “Am I right? Is he nothing to you?” She eyes me skeptically. “You don’t seem very open to the idea of me seeing Cohen. Is it because you want to be the only woman in their lives? You want to be Noah’s mother. You want my life?”

  I clench my fist, holding myself back from pouring that wine over her head. “That’s not your life. Never was. Never will be.”

  She sets all her kitchen shit on the floor, relaxes in her chair, and plays with my phone, bouncing it from one hand to the other. “Wow, your little high school crush hasn’t stopped, has it? You know you’re not Cohen’s type, right?”

  “I’m not doing this with you,” I grind out.

  “Why? Have you slept with him?” She scoffs when my eyes widen. “You have, haven’t you?”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I jump to my feet. “Give me my phone.”

  She smiles when it beeps with a text. “Oh, looky here. A message from Cohen.” She reads it out loud. “Let me know when you want to come over, and we can talk.” She taps one finger against her mouth while she starts to scroll through something on my phone. “Hmm … look at all these text messages.”

  I stand in front of her and hold out my hand. “Give me my phone.” When she goes to stuff it under her armpit, I’m faster from her and snatch it from her hold. “You need to go to Mom and Dad’s. I don’t want you staying here.”

  “Why? Do you want me gone so you can keep fucking the father of my child?” A giggle leaves her. “How do you like my sloppy seconds? You probably couldn’t wait to have him, could you?” She thrusts her finger into her chest. “Remember, he was mine first. He chose me first.”

  The string to my patience snaps. “I was too young for him then.”

  “You think that’s it. Your age? You’ve always wanted my life, my looks.” She peeks over her shoulder in a suggestive, smug way. “My friends, my boyfriends, my sex life. You think because you’re a doctor, because the braces are gone, because you’re somewhat attractive that Cohen will want anything to do with you?” She snorts. “You’re pathetic. Out of all the guys out there, you ho yourself out to him.”

  I grab my keys and purse. “I’m leaving.”

  “Run away from facing the facts that Cohen will never want anything to do with you beyond sex.”

  I lean down and get in her face. “I’m running away from slapping you in the face. After what you’ve gone through, I want to be a decent person and not do that.”

  Her face is still, her eyes buggy, and she doesn’t talk shit again until I pull away to leave. “Now, you have morals? You can’t hit me but have no problem fucking my man?”

  “He’s not your man!” I scream. “He stopped being your man when you left him for another man. He’s not yours. He doesn’t want you. Get over it and move on—like you did when you left him and his newborn.”

  “Our newborn.”

  “Says the woman who signed over her rights.”

  With that, I turn around and leave, slamming the door behind me.

  “Mom, I want her out,” I cry into the phone.

  I managed to hold the tears in until I got to my car. I broke down and cried, slamming my hand against the steering wheel while fighting to forget Heather’s insults.

  “What?” my mother asks.

  “Heather,” I burst out. “I want her out of my house before I put her belongings on the curb.”

  “Honey, I asked you to be patient with her. She went through something traumatic.”

  I clench my jaw and fist at the same time, inhaling the scream I want to release.

  If I have to hear my mother use that as her excuse one more time, I’ll lose it.

  I don’t blame my mother. It’s not her being mean. She has a heart, one that’s too big at times, and has missed my sister. She cried for months after she left.

  “I understand and hate what happened to her, but we didn’t even last one night before our first fight. We can’t live together.”

  She clears her throat. “Does this have anything to do with you and Cohen having a romantic relationship?”

  “What?” I croak out.

  “Heather called a few minutes ago—”

  “She called? How did she call? She doesn’t have a phone.”

  “I’m not one for technology, but she said she was calling me on her iPad.”

  I grind my teeth.

  She only wanted my phone to look through my shit.

  To play games with me.

  “She said you admitted to sleeping with Cohen?” She drags out a low breath. “Jamie, how could you do that to her? To our family?”

  “I never admitted anything to her!” I scream.

  “Is she lying?”

  “I have to go. I love you.”

  “Jamie—”

  “I have to go, Mom!”

  I hang up and start my car, and with tears in my eyes, I go to him.

  Not Ashley.

  Not my parents.

  Cohen.

  28

  Cohen

  Jamie is standing in my doorway with tears running down her cheeks.

  She runs into my arms, and I slam the door shut behind us.

  “Baby,” I whisper, “what happened?”

  She sobs into my shoulder. “They know.”

  My stomach falls. “Know what?”

  “That we slept together.”

  I freeze before gaining control of myself and rub her back. “How?”

  “Heather had my phone when you texted, and she looked through our messages. I don’t know. I gue
ss she put two and two together,” she says into my shoulder, some of the words muffled. “I didn’t admit it, but she called my parents and told them what I did.”

  She breaks down harder, and I pull her away, holding her at arm’s length, wiping away her tears with my thumb.

  “My mom believed her! She believed her before even asking me.”

  My throat is tight, and I cup her face in my hands. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

  She sniffles, gaining some control of herself, and glances around. “Where’s Noah?” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe I came over like this.”

  “He’s with Georgia. He’s missed you, and we’re trying to take his mind off it.”

  Her lower lip trembles. “Trying to replace me, I see.”

  Never. No one can replace you.

  “This is complicated. I don’t know what the hell to do.”

  “I know.” She breaks down again, and I drag her closer.

  I run my hand down her hair, kissing her forehead, and whisper, “We’ll figure everything out.”

  “Will we?”

  She peeks up at me, and my gut clenches at the sadness in the eyes I’ve fallen in love with, and when our gazes meet, it sets us on fire.

  Eye contact has always been a dangerous game with us.

  Always leads to trouble.

  And feelings.

  And touching.

  To us hoping we can be more than what we’re allowed to be.

  “I wish this weren’t so complicated,” she whispers.

  “Me too, baby. Me too.”

  She relaxes against my body, and even though they’re not supposed to, our lips meet. I hesitate, waiting for her reaction, and she doesn’t think twice before deepening our kiss.

  It feels like home.

  Like where we’ve always belonged.

  We kiss hard.

  As if we don’t know when it’ll happen again.

  Or if it will ever happen again.

  I cup her jaw as we kiss, using it as my way to tell her how much I care about her. I kiss her, using my mouth to show her how much I’m fucking falling in love with her.

  She falls to her knees and starts unbuckling my jeans, my cock standing at full attention, waiting for her warm mouth.

  I fail him when I pull her back to her feet. “I need to be inside you.”

  She nods, biting into her lip.

  I retreat a few steps. “Take off your shirt.”

  My cock twitches when she does.

  “Lose the bra.”

  She does.

  “Your pants.”

  She starts tearing her pants down her legs.

  “And your panties. I want to see every inch of you, every inch of you that belongs to me, whether you like it or not. That’s why you came here, right?” I cup my aching cock against my jeans. “You came here because you belong to me.”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “I belong to you and only you, Cohen.”

  “Damn fucking straight.”

  When she’s fully naked, I charge toward her, wrap my hand around the back of her neck, and kiss her hard. She moans into my mouth, saying my name, and I walk her back to the couch and bend her over the arm of it. She glances back at me as I pull my shirt over my head, smack her ass, and drop my pants.

  Our eye contact makes another appearance when I slam inside her.

  She whimpers underneath me, arching her back, and I slide one hand down her spine while using the other to grip her waist.

  “Fuck, baby,” I groan, slapping her ass again as our bodies rub against each other’s.

  “Yes, Cohen,” she moans. “I love you inside me.”

  “Yeah, you do.” I change course, grind my hips, and move in circles, hitting every spot inside her that I can.

  She bucks against me, her face pushed against the cushion, and when I know she’s about to come, I pull out of her.

  “What the—”

  I twist her around, pull her legs around my waist, and hustle to the bedroom. Dropping her onto the bed, I waste no time before pushing back inside her.

  “You feel so good,” I say between breaths, grabbing her legs and tossing them over my shoulders.

  “I’m coming,” she moans.

  “Yes, come on my dick, baby.”

  She does, and I curse with each rough thrust I give her until I find my own release.

  I’m staring down at my cock still inside her pussy when another, “Fuck,” hisses through my lips.

  She glances up at me as I slowly pull out of her while dropping her legs at the same time.

  “We didn’t use a condom.” I stare at her pussy, taking in the evidence that I was there. I love it, but I also know it was irresponsible as fuck. “Shit, this is on me. I’m sorry.”

  It got too heated.

  We wanted each other too much.

  “It’s okay.” She offers an easy smile.

  “Are you on the pill?”

  “No,” she answers before glancing away. “But there’s not much we can do about it now. I’ll get a Plan B tomorrow.”

  Her response eases me, and I reach forward to run two fingers over her slit, pushing more of my juices inside her.

  It’s a bad move on my part, but her underneath me, with my come inside her, is a big fucking turn-on. She doesn’t turn away, doesn’t stop me, and I lean down to kiss her before falling on my back.

  “Why does your cock feel so good?” she asks, her body still shaking, and she sounds almost annoyed.

  “Why does your pussy feel so good?” I counter before shifting so I’m halfway on top of her, my semi rubbing against her thigh.

  “We have to stop this,” she says, widening her legs so my cock falls between them.

  I run my hand up her stomach, cupping her breast, and thrust my hips forward, groaning while sliding my cock over her clit. “I like this.”

  Her nipple tightens as I play with it between my fingers, and she squirms beneath me. “I hate how much I love this.”

  “I love how much you love it.”

  “Heather wants to make things right with you.”

  I halt at the mention of her name.

  There goes that mood.

  I collapse onto my back and scrub a hand over my face—my cock not nearly as excited as it was. “Heather can fuck herself.”

  She turns onto her stomach and slides in closer to me. “My parents want her to make things right with you.”

  “No disrespect, but your parents can fuck themselves too.”

  Not trying to sound like an ass, but Heather isn’t making shit right with us.

  There’s no making it right.

  She’d better stay away from Noah and me.

  Jamie thrums her fingers over my chest. “They’re going to make me end things with you.”

  My chest caves in at the thought of losing her—again.

  If she’s still planning on leaving us, why is she here?

  Her leaving isn’t what’s driving the anger through me.

  It’s why she’s leaving.

  She’s walking away because someone else is telling her to—stomping on my heart, on her own, and on my son’s heart because of their opinions.

  Fuck their opinions.

  Fuck them.

  “With her situation—” she starts.

  I cut her off, “Her situation doesn’t have jack shit to do with us. Her being here won’t change the fact that I’m falling in love with you or that I want to be with you. I don’t care about her.”

  Her body goes still, her legs straightening, and her eyes widen in shock. “What?”

  I blink. “What?”

  “You said it … those three words.” A smile tilts at her lips.

  Here goes.

  I grab her knuckles and brush them against my lips before kissing the front of them. “I was an idiot not to say it then, but the timing felt forced, too expected, even though the moment I slid inside you, there was no uncertainty in my mind that I was falling in l
ove with you. I wouldn’t risk my heart, your heart, my son’s heart for a quick fuck if mine didn’t bleed for you. I love you, and I will fight for you. She can’t tear us apart.”

  “Cohen,” she breathes out, “I—”

  She stops when my phone rings. I’d ignore it, given this is a critical moment in our relationship, but it’s Georgia’s ringtone. Since she has Noah, I give Jamie’s knuckles a squeeze before sliding out of bed, my cock in full view, and step into my sweats.

  “Hello?” I answer when I grab my phone from the living room.

  “I’m in the driveway,” Georgia says in a whisper, most likely not wanting Noah to hear her.

  “All right?” I pay a glance at the front door before heading back to the bedroom.

  “Jamie’s car is here, so before we come in, I wanted to make sure everything is good.”

  Apparently, my sister can read me like a book because she knew something had happened between us at the realization that Jamie wasn’t coming around anymore. I attempted to explain she was out of town, but with Noah complaining about his lack of FaceTiming with Jamie, my sister knew. We grew up and are too close for her not to know that Jamie and I slept together.

  She claimed it was written all over my face—the love I had for Jamie and the loss over when she left us.

  Understanding dawns on me. “Give us five.”

  “Gotcha.”

  I hang up the phone, toss it onto the dresser, and start collecting our clothes. “Georgia is outside with Noah.”

  “Shit,” she hisses, getting up, and we start pulling our clothes on.

  When we make it into the kitchen, Jamie’s hair is a tangled mess, and my shirt is on backward. There’s no question we look awkward as fuck. Jamie’s face is puffy, her eyes red from her crying and our halfway there heart-to-heart. We’re sipping on water when Georgia and Noah barge into the house.

  “Hey, kids,” Georgia chirps, her eyes pinging between Jamie and me.

  “Jamie!” Noah shouts, bouncing from one foot to the other before exploding toward her. He hugs her legs. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  My head spins when I notice the tears in Jamie’s eyes.

  She kneels to hug Noah. “And I’ve missed you so much.”

  He peeks up at her, excitement on every inch of his face. “Are you hanging out with us tonight?”