Stirred (Twisted Fox Book 1)

by Charity Ferrell

  “Avoiding your sister and me.” I pull out my best teasing tone. “I don’t blame you for dodging Heather.”

  As much as I’ve tried not to, I fucking miss Jamie.

  “If you ever need time away from her, my places are open,” I stupidly offer. “You can hang out with Noah at my place or grab a drink at the bar.”

  She sends me a wavering smile. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

  This conversation seems so forced.

  The friendliness such a fraud.

  “I don’t want shit to be weird with us, Jamie,” I say, blowing out a long breath. “What we had happened. I don’t regret it, and even though it’s made shit complicated, I would hate myself if I wasn’t up-front with you about my feelings. I respect you, and if you think a relationship with me will hurt your relationship with your family, which, in turn, will hurt you, I understand.”

  “Cohen”—her face falls—“it’s not that I don’t want a relationship with you. If there’s anyone I want, it’s you. It was you years ago, and it’s you now.”

  “But it’s not me.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. “Please don’t hate me.”

  I stand, not wanting her to be upset at work, and wrap her into a tight hug. “I get it,” I say into her hair. “I don’t hate you.”

  This is me being a responsible adult.

  Being respectful.

  Putting my feelings aside for my son.

  31

  Jamie

  “You two totally banged,” Lauren says, stopping at the vending machine next to me and swiping her credit card.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, avoiding eye contact and pretending to focus on my cheese crackers.

  “Your sister’s abandoned baby daddy. Something happened between you two.” She bends down to grab her candy bar and then bumps her hip against mine. “I’d say sex—or at least oral.”

  “Please never call him her abandoned baby daddy again.”

  “Look, I’m not one to throw out lectures because I hate hearing them myself.”

  “Cool. Then, don’t.”

  “But I’ll make an exception this time.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that.”

  I turn around, strolling toward the doctors’ lounge, and she scurries behind me like a lost duckling.

  “I’ve told you about Gage and me, right?”

  I nod. “Broke up, didn’t speak for years, and he hated you?”

  She snaps her fingers. “Correcto. When he came back into town, he didn’t want anything to do with me, but then we realized we were being idiots and wasting valuable time.” She perks up. “Now, we’re happier than ever, married, and we have the cutest kids in the damn world. All because we got our heads out of our asses and took a chance, not knowing what’d happen after.”

  “Sorry, babe, but there’s a big difference between you reconciling with your high school sweetheart and me banging my sister’s ex.”

  Her face lights up. “Ah, so you did bang?”

  I narrow my eyes at her.

  “Have I ever told you about my brother Dallas?”

  “Nope, but if it’s another take a chance on love story, hard pass. Give me a murder mystery.”

  “Dallas was married with a daughter—perfect, award-winning life. Then his wife died. He was broken, but one night, he drunkenly hooked up with and knocked up a woman who he’d once worked with. Willow, the knocked-up character in this story, had known his wife. She was afraid of being hurt, of being second in line, of what people would think about her. They played a similar game as you and Hot Dad are.” She taps my nose between her last words. “Quit playing games and at least try to make it work. What will it hurt?”

  “My heart. His heart. His son’s heart.”

  “Don’t break them then.” She shrugs. “It’s as simple as that.”

  I sit down, and she collapses next to me.

  “Oh! Tomorrow is my birthday, and I’m sure you haven’t gotten me a present yet, but what you can get me is for you to give it a try.” She pokes my shoulder. “Ask him to dinner.”

  I give her a death glare.

  “Whatever. Just wait until he finds another woman to give him a chance. You’ll regret it then, Dr. Chickenshit.” She pats my thigh. “Noah wants you to sign his cast too, by the way. Make your move.”

  I stand, wiping my hands down my scrubs.

  “And his father wants you to sign up for a date with him. Possibly another round in the sack.”

  I shake my head, leave my snack on the table, and head toward Noah’s room.

  Cohen is standing next to Noah, signing his bright green cast. He holds the pen out to me with a friendly smile. “Your turn.”

  Our hands graze each other’s when I take the pen from him, and his hips brush against my mine when he steps back to give me room. Noah sucks on his sucker while I sign my name along with a giant heart and a smiley face.

  When Cohen glances at me, I jerk my head toward the corner of the room, and he takes the hint, following me. I blow out a series of breaths.

  Here goes.

  My hand rests on his shoulder. “Do you want to have coffee or go to dinner or something this week?”

  Shock fills his eyes as he scratches his cheek, confused by my sudden change of heart. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  My chest lightens at his humor. “I’m not sure what I’m asking, so work with me here.”

  He tips his head down, and he nuzzles my neck as he whispers his answer, “I’ll work with you however you want, Doctor.”

  I hold my hand to his chest and push him away before I drag him out of this room and straddle his cock. “All right, Mr. Suggestive, we’re in a hospital.”

  He grins, his lips on the edge of mine this time. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

  “Cool!” Noah says. “Are we going to get cupcakes?”

  Oh, shit.

  How do we explain he’s not invited to this hangout?

  “You need to let your arm heal, buddy,” Cohen says. “How about I get you cupcakes, and you can eat them while Aunt Georgia babysits you?”

  Noah perks up at Cohen’s suggestion. “Okay! That’d be so cool! Sylvia can sign my cast too!”

  “Saved by cupcakes,” Cohen whispers to me.

  “Always saved by cupcakes,” I reply with a laugh.

  I insisted on taking an Uber to the restaurant.

  The last thing I need is Heather from Hell making a big deal if she sees Cohen picking me up. I shudder at the thought and the situation I’d have had to deal with.

  “Where are you going?” Heather asks. She’s sitting on my couch, which seems to be her favorite place, while watching some stupid TV show.

  “Out,” I answer.

  She pauses her show. “You look pretty dressed up. Can I come?”

  “Nope.”

  She crosses her arms, her nose wrinkling. “Is it a date?”

  I whip around, snatch my clutch, and leave without answering. She texts me a few times on my ride to dinner, asking why I’m such a heartless sister, to which I send her a line full of middle-finger emojis.

  What great sister bonding we have.

  Cohen beat me to the restaurant and is waiting outside when my Uber pulls up. As soon as he sees me, he rushes to my side.

  “Jesus, you look fucking gorgeous,” he says, circling his arm around my hips and kissing my neck.

  My cheeks warm. “Thank you.”

  I lick my lips.

  He looks gorgeous himself. Since we’ve always been in more casual situations, I’ve never seen Cohen dressed up before. Tonight, he has on black pants and a fitted blue blazer with a long-sleeve button-down shirt underneath it—the top three buttons undone.

  He grabs my hand, walks us to the entrance, and opens the door for me. The hostess smiles when we walk in and leads us to a table in the corner. Cohen scoots my chair out for me before taking his, and I smooth out my dress while
the waitress pours our waters.

  Cohen orders a draft beer, and I stay with my water.

  He raises his brow. “No wine?”

  “Water is fine for now,” I answer, playing with the napkin in my hand while changing the subject. “Did you know this is my favorite restaurant?”

  He stares at me with pride. “I’d love to say yes, but I’m not a liar. I don’t exactly date, but Georgia said this was the place to go if you’re trying to impress a woman and get her to date you.”

  “I have to give it to the girl. Georgia knows her shit.”

  “She wants us to ride off in the sunset together, so she made sure to steer me well.”

  “She did seem adamant on us talking about our relationship.”

  “She likes to see me happy.”

  I wiggle in my seat. “Is that what you are?”

  “Happy?”

  I nod.

  “Can’t say I’ve been having a blast since you dumped my ass.” He stops and cocks his head to the side. “Or not dumped my ass but told me fuck you since I don’t think we made it to the dating part yet.”

  I offer an apologetic smile. “We kind of went backward on that one, huh?”

  “Just a little bit,” he says with a hint of a smile. “We can start over and do it the right way? I’ll wine and dine you.” He gestures toward the room. “We can share flirty texts, maybe even sext a few times, and then we can progress back to sex from there. All I want from you is to get closer, to try this out, to see how we’d be together.”

  His words put me at ease, confirming I made the right decision in asking him out and that I’d been stupid to turn my back on him without us trying.

  Who knows? Maybe, in the end, we’ll hate each other.

  Not likely, though.

  Even in the short time we’ve spent together, my heart belongs to him.

  I stare at him, affection in my eyes. “I want that too.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  I bite into my lip. “Lauren, the nurse, had a heart-to-heart with me.”

  Maybe it was Lauren’s not very helpful and very random family history stories that hit me with the reality of what I’d be losing if I stepped away from Cohen for good. A relationship that seems wrong to other people is the one that makes me the happiest. It might be one stirred-up mess, but deep down, I’d regret turning my back on Cohen if I did.

  If other people don’t like it, who cares?

  Opinions aren’t worth breaking my heart.

  Eventually, my parents will have to forgive me. They forgave Heather.

  Seeing Noah and Cohen in the hospital room and realizing I could lose them made me view things with a different perspective.

  Cohen reaches across the table and takes my hand. “We got this. Neither one of us would be taking this chance if we didn’t think it’d work out in the end. I don’t want anyone but you, and quite frankly, I sure as hell don’t want there to be any other douchebag for you.”

  “No way in hell are you taking an Uber home,” Cohen says, dragging me into his side as we walk out of the restaurant.

  I laugh into his chest. “No way in hell are you taking me home, where Sisterzilla will see you.”

  He comes to a halt. “You don’t have to go home. Want to come over and hang out?”

  “I’m definitely game for that.”

  Cohen holds my hand on the car ride back to his house, and Georgia is on the couch watching TV when we walk in.

  “Hey, you cute kids, you,” she says in a squeaky voice while poking the air toward us. “The monster is in bed, knocked out, and I’m going home. Have fun. Practice safe sex, or don’t practice safe sex. I’m down for being an aunt again.”

  Cohen gives her a stern look. “Good night. Be careful going home.”

  She gives each of us a hug good night—I love that she’s more like a sister to me more than my own—and Cohen turns to look at me when she leaves.

  “Food? TV? Bedroom?” he asks.

  “TV in the bedroom?”

  He jerks his head toward the bedroom and leads us there, his hand on the small of my back. “Let me give you some clothes to sleep in.”

  “Clothes to sleep in, huh?” I give him a flirty smile. “Being a bit optimistic that I’m staying the night, are we?”

  “I’d be optimistic if I told you I wasn’t giving you clothes to sleep in.” He opens a drawer and pulls out a pair of sweatpants.

  “What if I like the no-clothes idea better?”

  His hand opens, dropping the pants onto the floor, and he takes three long strides in my direction before cupping my head and crushing his lips to mine. His tongue slides in my mouth without hesitation, his mouth tasting like beer and cinnamon, and I moan into it. I suck on the tip of his tongue, remembering how skilled it is and anticipating when it’ll be pleasuring me again.

  Soon, hopefully.

  I drop my hand between our bodies, and he hisses when I squeeze his already-hard cock.

  I love how hard he gets for me.

  How much he wants me.

  I unbuckle his pants and slide them to his feet at the same time I fall to my knees. His cock is in front of my face as I kneel before him, and I toss my hair over my shoulder. Another hiss leaves him when I fist his cock, pumping it a few times before taking it into my mouth. His head falls back, my name slipping from his lips like a curse, and I lightly tickle his balls. A hint of satisfaction runs through me when I take his entire cock in my mouth without gagging, deep-throating him the best that I can, and his knees buckle.

  I suck him fast, and he’s holding back, gripping my hair like he did last time.

  “Yeah,” he bites out. “Suck me just like that, Jamie.” He groans, his words falling in rhythm with my sucking. “Just like that.”

  It’s the reaction I craved.

  He peeks down at me when I pull my mouth away and replace it with my hand, slowly stroking him.

  “Pull my hair. Show me how fast and hard you want it.”

  His eyes shut, his hips jerking forward to match my hand. “You sure?”

  I bite into my lip, nod, and then start sucking him again.

  He, doing as I said, and plows his hand through my hair. I suck him harder, and he roughly pulls my mouth to his dick.

  He warns me he’s about to blow—a warning to pull away.

  I don’t.

  I want to taste him.

  Cohen’s hand drops from my hair to my cheek, massaging it as I swallow his come. “My turn.”

  I yelp when I’m picked up from under my armpits and tossed onto the bed. I quickly cover my mouth.

  “We have to be quiet,” he says, leaning forward to pull my hand from my mouth and kiss me before drawing back.

  He kicks off his pants as he walks to the door to lock it, and his shirt is next to go while he returns to the bed. I rub my thighs together to feed the arousal, anticipating what his turn will consist of, hoping it’s something with his tongue.

  Then his cock.

  The determination and lust on his face as he comes back assure me that I won’t be disappointed.

  He kneels at the end of the bed, the same way I did at his feet, and slides my heels off.

  “Where do you want my mouth first?” he asks, climbing up the bed and dragging his hand up my dress. He slips my panties to the side and pushes a finger inside me. “Here?”

  I moan at the loss of his hand as he slips it higher, inching underneath my bra and cupping my breast.

  “Or here?”

  I gulp. “Between my legs. Most definitely between my legs.”

  He slides off my panties and rests my legs over his shoulders. “I’ve missed the taste of your pussy.”

  I shiver as he makes one long lick down my slit.

  “Have you missed my mouth here?”

  I nod, pushing my hips closer to him. “Every single day.”

  “Did you touch yourself, thinking about my mouth here?” He cups me before sliding three fingers insi
de me, causing me to yelp. “Shh …”

  I throw my arm over my mouth, biting into it, hoping he doesn’t attempt to get an answer out of me as he thrusts into me. If he does, it’ll come out a lot louder than intended, and Noah might be a cockblock to us tonight.

  He fingers me. He devours me with his tongue and his mouth. He doesn’t stop until I’m writhing underneath him, biting my lip while saying his name and moaning.

  One time.

  Two times.

  Three times.

  He’s torturing me, but it feels so good.

  Cohen knows my body better than I do.

  I push at his shoulder. “On your back.”

  The bed dips when he falls onto his back, and I straddle him, smashing our lips together.

  Our kiss is hungry and passionate.

  He smooths his hands over the backs of my thighs as we slowly make out, and I grind against him.

  “Put it in, baby.”

  I suck on the tip of his tongue before pulling away, lifting, and falling down on his cock.

  We both gasp as he fills me.

  “So good,” Cohen grumbles. Reaching up, he squeezes my breast, teasing my nipple. “So damn good.” One of his hands falls, and he uses his thumb to play with my clit, moving it in circles with his hand.

  I buck against him, biting into my lip so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if I drew blood. As I grow closer, I give him my weight, and my clit rubs against his groin as I rock into him.

  It’s coming. I’m coming. As soon as I hit my peak, I shove my face into his shoulder, sinking my teeth into his sweaty skin, and moan. He lets out a deep groan from the back of his throat, holding me in place, and thrusts underneath me until it’s his turn to shove his face into my neck as he comes.

  32

  Jamie

  Holy shit.

  Oh my God.

  Is this really happening?

  I stare at the stick in my shaking hand and set it alongside the others lined on my bathroom vanity.

  “Jamie!”

  I jump at Heather shouting my name on the other side of the door and banging on it.