A dark smudgy bruise on her hip was all the reminder she needed to spur an instant replay in her head of what they’d done last night. Shuddering at the memory, Charlie stepped beneath the spray of steamy water and let the warmth soothe her frazzled nerves and aching muscles.
Reigning her hormones the best she could, Charlie made sure they had a nice dinner and managed to get him to play a rousing game of Twister that ended with them in a heap of limbs as they howled with laughter. Now that he wasn’t trying to be big bad Cal Tyler, speed racer extraordinaire all the damn time, he was a shit load of fun to hang out with.
He’d cajoled, begged, bargained and manipulated her into an Internet cruise across a dozen free porn sites searching for a good reverse cowgirl video. She’d wanted to smack the macho pig out of him until a couple of short video snippets in, she elbowed him out of the way to get a better look.
My goodness but Tumbler is like the wild wild west of kinky. Before she knew it, they were critiquing performance, perseverance, energy and technique like the judging panel at a porn convention.
By the time they took all that curiosity to the bedroom, she was wet, aching and willing to try anything if it satisfied the thundering lust driving both of them. He’d had to grip her hips to keep her from gyrating off him, which must explain the bruising. And he was right. They went through a bunch of condoms. They eventually fell into an exhausted sleep with her body pulled tight to his as he spooned them into dreamland.
Running the shower poof, overflowing with suds all over, Charlie moaned when another achy twinge invaded her mood. She was getting her period. No more sexy times for now. Damn.
Well, but that was okay too. They were way too compatible sexually. He was always ready and she was more than eager making it so, so easy to forget about the other stuff, the outside the bubble stuff. Taking a breather and doing some heavy duty communicating wouldn’t hurt at all. She still wanted to get into it with him about the decisions he was making and what all of that would mean for them.
Them. Hmph. Was there a them or was this a case of fuck-love and nothing more? Phoeey. She didn’t like that idea one little bit.
Didn’t take long to finish her bathroom business and dress. Her appetite was set to medium high and what she really needed was some pain tablets and a huge glass of OJ so Charlie raced through, opting for comfort rather than fashion. Pulling on a pair of stretchy yoga-type pants, she rolled over the waistband—might as well show off the dragonfly bling—and a short, strappy tank top. No bra.
Bounding up the stairs in bare feet, she tripped but quickly righted at the sound of angry voices in the midst of a heated encounter. Beside Angela, the housekeeper, no one had access to the private side of Ty’s life. At least that’s what he said, and she’d seen nothing to suggest otherwise. So who the hell was barking at him in his own home?
Fifteen minutes earlier …
He had a headache. No surprise. Keeping his temper through the conference call hadn’t been easy. Cal couldn’t blame the team for collectively losing their shit over his departure, but management? The ones who’d all along bent over sideways to placate their superstar and do whatever it took to keep him happy? Yeah. Those assholes imagined they were going to play dirty with him but boy did they ever have another thing coming. He didn’t give a righteous-god-damn about their empty threats because frankly, he no longer gave a shit about being Cal Tyler.
Chucking some headache medicine into his mouth, he followed up with a long pull off a breakfast smoothie. ‘tessa enjoyed his morning concoctions, so he was more than happy to bang around the kitchen and make a huge mess. This morning’s special was an orange and banana combination with a handful of rolled oats thrown in for good measure. Smooth and creamy, it went down easy and tasted like a frosty Creamsicle. Yum.
Wandering around the apartment, drink in hand, he tried to settle. The thing was, though; a grim sense of foreboding was messing with him more than a little. He hated the feeling. Hated it because the gut throb of apprehension always took him back to that night with Harve when he ignored his intuition. Look how that turned out. Sticking his head in the sand wasn’t going to make whatever was swirling around him magically go away.
Damn.
Cal jumped a good half-mile when the doorbell buzzed. Jesus. He didn’t realize there even was a doorbell. No one knew about this place and he went out of his way to keep his head down and celebrity under wraps whenever he was here. Who the fuck was intruding? Slamming the half drunk smoothie onto a table, he stormed to the door, muttering belligerently about anything and everything.
Shit. He wasn’t dressed. Answering the door in nothing but a pair of sweats slung dangerously low might not be wise.
Eh, so the fuck what. It was his house and whoever was trying to get in wasn’t invited and won’t be welcomed.
The buzzer went off again. Cal gritted his teeth at the sound. “What?” he barked as the door yanked open. And then the world tilted a little bit and shifted to a slow descent into hell. Fucking Claudia Gianelli. Mistress of Succubae.
“Darling,” she purred, sweeping past him into the apartment. “Thank God. I thought you were going to be a bear and not open.”
“What the fuck are you up to Claudia and how did you find out about this place?” He slammed the door shut and stomped after her. Who the hell did she think she was showing up unannounced? And here! Not even JP and Thalia had ever been to his home.
Tossing an enormous and probably hideously expensive bag on the sofa, she slid out of her coat and cast it aside too. Mother-goddamm-fucking-shit. She was done up in what could only be described as a fuck-me-now costume, black widow style. Stockings, garters, transparent panties and a barely there bra—all black—was all she had on beneath the coat.
“Oh. Come now, Ty. Really? Do you imagine for a second we didn’t have you thoroughly checked out? I’ve known about your little hideaway all along.”
Her use of the word ‘we’ sent ice speeding through his veins. These people were crazy for trying a stunt like this. Which prick at Crepuscolo thought sending the team’s owner to seduce him was what this situation needed? He shouldn’t be surprised. She was probably waiting nearby as the conference call played out. When he didn’t cave in to the demands that he return and finish his contract, they must’ve decided whoring Claudia out would make a difference.
On that thought, they started arguing. He went from idling in neutral to balls out blazing fury in the blink of an eye and she gave as good as she got. He railed at her. She tried climbing his half-dressed ass like a tree. Even after he pushed her away, she kept at it over and over. The crazy bitch even palmed his crotch trying to get a response. He was screaming at her when she sank to her knees and yanked on his sweats. Being caught off guard while in mid-rant, he didn’t react fast enough to stop her.
And then his life passed right before his eyes. Not because he crashed and burned. Not because Claudia was the consummate blow job artist. But because a loud, shrill gasp rang out.
‘‘tessa.
No, no, no, no, no. Oh God, this can’t be happening.
Scrambling to pull the sweats up, he shoved Claudia onto her ass and reached a beseeching hand toward the pale-faced girl gaping at them with a devastated, stricken look on her face.
“Baby. I can explain.” Fuck. He heard the desperate expression in his head and groaned. Those three words were many a man’s doom. I can explain.
But no he couldn’t. A woman he’d had plenty of sex with over the years showed up and made herself at home when he’d assured ‘tessa no one even knew about this place. And not only that, the woman was half-naked, on her knees and had her hands wrapped around his dick. Two seconds more and he didn’t doubt she’d have had him in her damn mouth.
“Oooh, Ty!” Claudia cooed with cringe-inducing malice. “Did you get us a play thing? How wonderful, darling. The threesome we talked about. A little young perhaps but the tits are a nice touch. Come here baby,” she drawled with a crook of her b
ony finger. “Let me bite those little girl nips peeking through your shirt.”
Stunned, he froze and tried to wrap his brain around what was happening. Cal couldn’t imagine how this could possibly get worse until ‘tessa rushed him, pulled up short and then put all her weight and anger into shoving him on his ass. He flew back, went down with a loud thud and smacked his damn elbow on the way. He also landed right next to Claudia, who had a shit-eating smirk on her ugly face.
“When in Rome,” ‘tessa snarled. With that she turned around and flew down the stairs—no doubt to pack her bag. He wanted to murder Claudia.
“You have ten seconds to remove your useless ass from my home or I won’t be responsible for what happens.”
She had the good sense to look concerned.
He stood up and glared at her as she scrambled awkwardly to her feet. Snatching up the coat and bag, he threw them at her and inwardly cheered when one of the bag’s leather straps struck her cheek.
“Crepuscolo wants a definitive answer from me? How’s this? You go back and tell them I said go fuck yourselves. My contract might be iron-clad and prevent me from driving for another team but my dick is not negotiable.” He was literally yelling at the top of his lungs. Looking her over with a dismissive grunt, he sneered. “Sending an over-used hag to mess with my personal life was a huge fucking mistake lady.”
To say he hustled her out was being kind. It was more like he grabbed her arm and dragged her all the way—ignoring the kicking and begging. Flinging open the door, he shoved her into the hallway before she managed to wiggle the coat on. Cal took some satisfaction from seeing her exposed like that—especially when his only neighbor cracked open her door to see what the commotion was.
Bitch got what she deserved.
“If you ever come back here, Mrs. Gianelli, the authorities will be alerted that I’m being stalked and sexually harassed by a former employer. Good luck explaining that.”
He was back inside the apartment with the door slammed shut and locked before she had a chance to react. And then he ran like the fucking devil was on his heels, hoping to stop ‘tessa from overreacting.
LITTLE GIRLS SHOULDN’T AUDITION FOR the big leagues. Even if the initial showing was fantastic, reality eventually caught up.
Charlie was numb as the slow moving taxi taking her from Ty’s apartment to her little efficiency wound its way through Rome traffic. Beside her on the seat was a small suitcase and another rolling case filled with toys. She eyed it with disdain. Maybe if her toys hadn’t been coloring books, play-doh and card games she’d have stood a better chance against someone as sophisticated and, er … experienced as Claudia Gianelli. A duffel crammed with vibrators, lube and butt plugs might have made the difference.
The thought made her sick. She didn’t think he was like that until the moment she found Claudia in her lingerie about to put her mouth on Ty’s um … yeah. They’d been together for weeks and not once in all that time had he let her take that particular liberty with him. Now she knew why. Fucking the virgin was one thing. A novelty, she supposed. But oral sex? Guess that required skills she had yet to acquire. Best leave that for someone else. Someone like Claudia.
Random, out-of-nowhere thought. She finally had a good reason to be glad her cell phone wasn’t her best friend. Charlie didn’t think she could handle the possibility that he’d try to communicate with her. The realist in her heart was in control—a defense mechanism—which meant she had no choice but to shut him down, put on her grown-up knickers and move on.
At her apartment, she shoved some Euros into the driver’s hand, murmured “Grazi,” gathered everything into a heap on the curb and surveyed her situation. She was without a job. After her assignment with Crepuscolo ended, she’d turned down a chance to spend three months in London developing a holistic program for the management team of a large corporation.
Having no income flowing was going to be a problem. So was staying on in Rome. The only way to survive was to make a clean break. She’d been an idiot. Had an affair with an older guy. Woke up one day to realize he wasn’t different or special and was like all the rest, without a suit of armor or a beautiful horse to ride in on anywhere in sight.
Life lesson learned.
Moving on.
Slinging the bag across her chest, she tugged on the strap, moved her hair out of the way, grabbed hold of the handles on both wheeled bags and marched her ass into the privacy of her tiny place where she could go to pieces if she needed to.
A long time later, the bags remained unpacked and untouched just inside the front door. Dropping everything the second she could, Charlie staggered to the small couch despite her legs feeling like jelly. Collapsing, she’d torn the strap of the satchel over her head and let it thud on the floor at her feet where it still sat.
She was numb and couldn’t move if she wanted to. Tears welled in her eyes. An odd trembling ache in her stomach made it difficult to breathe. The scene in Ty’s apartment wouldn’t stop replaying over and over in her head.
The sight of Claudia Gianelli decked out in designer lingerie fondling Cal Tyler as he stood over her with his pants, quite literally, around his ankles was something she’d never forget.
The evil bitch flaunting her relationship with Ty by insinuating Charlie was a plaything, a human sex toy, was too disgusting and horrifying for words.
She’d been sorely tempted to rip his lying heart out and crush it with her bare hands but satisfied the urge with a hearty shove instead. The two of them sprawled together on the floor had been so fucking perfect. It took every ounce of Baron-Wilde pride she could muster not to spit on them.
He came after her when she hurried away. Of course he did. Isn’t that what guys always did? Frantically explain. How the hell do you explain shit like that? Jeez. Not interested in more lies, she shut down and went about gathering her things.
“‘tessa, my God. Please.” He begged. She didn’t care. “I really can explain. Crepuscolo, those fuckers, they put her up to it. I swear, baby.”
Uh huh. She recalled him joking with her about the Guy Manual. Wasn’t this covered on page fifty? Never assume responsibility for fucking up. Blame it on everyone else. It wasn’t his idea. Caught with your dick in some whore’s mouth? Deny, deny, deny.
What an asshole.
After stuffing her bags full, she finally acknowledged his presence with a blank expression and nothing else. About to say something, he cut in and she snapped her mouth closed.
“Baby. Please. You’re overreacting. Calm down. It was nothing. She’s nothing.”
Charlie held up her hand. “Stop.” He gawked at her, his eyes blinking several times. “Just shut the fuck up, Signor Tyler.”
“‘tessa.” His hands went out, palms up. A sign of defeat. “Please.”
“Know what? You have balls thinking you can tell me how to react. Fuck you.”
Remember who you are. Damn straight. I am Charlize Baron-Wilde and I do not suffer fools and liars gladly.
Straightening, she’d sent him a look filled not with anger or revenge. Nope. She was better than that. Her dismissive expression was one of pity. Holding up both hands, she offered one final lesson that he could take or leave. She didn’t care.
Waving her left hand, she said, “This is action.” Then the right hand waved, “And this is reaction.”
She saw him swallow hard and wanted to swift kick him in the balls, just because.
Emphasizing the right hand, she continued. “Can’t have a reaction without … what?”
He said nothing. Pfft. His first smart move of the day.
Waving the fingers of her left hand, she gestured wildly. “Oh, that’s right! No reaction without an action happening first.”
Taking hold of her bags, she delivered her closing remarks. “This is on you, Mr. Tyler. All. You. Don’t like my reaction? Tough shit.”
She made it to the bedroom door before turning around for a final look. She’d been out of her damn mind to get sucked i
n to what she saw now was nothing more than a charming prince fantasy. Her Roman affair.
He was watching her with a twisted frown, his chest heaving. Maybe he actually did like her a little, which was why he looked so upset, but she couldn’t care about any of that. She hadn’t signed on for a threesome any more than she signed on for a man who could lie so easily.
“Karma’s a bitch, huh?”
And then she dragged her shit up the stairs, through the apartment, and out the front door, which she left open—little bit of fuck you dramatic flair tossed on the bonfire at the end.
And now here she was. Alone. Freaking out. And oh yeah—with cramps that made Charlie wish for death.
“Oh, sweetie! I can’t wait to see you. Jax is going to be thrilled that you’re coming home for our wedding. Sisters three!” Brynn chirped happily.
Charlie was crying. Tears streamed down her face. Hearing the joy and unbridled happiness in her oldest sister’s voice affected her deeply. Brynnie was the serious one. The big sis with all the responsibility and since Charlie and Rhiann were the wild ones, Brynn had her hands full.
Her sister’s first marriage, a dry-as-toast merger completely lacking in any emotion whatsoever, made Charlie wonder whether the eldest Baron-Wilde sister would ever find true love.
That question was apparently answered and in a surprising, but quite jubilant way.
“I’m going to be an auntie,” Charlie murmured. Brynn falling in love was one thing, but a baby? Holy shit! The endless possibilities for teasing her about being a baker with a bun in the oven were too, too precious. “Jeez sis, I had no idea Nana was so devious. I can’t stand that smarmy putz, y’know. Cousin Seth has always been jealous of us but jees-us. Bringing your ex-husband along to try and wrestle Wilde House away from you? Boy. Such a weasel. But the parents? What the hell were they thinking?”
Charlie wiped away some tears and smiled broadly when she heard her sister’s distinctive laugh. “They were thinking they wanted grandchildren, sweetie. But me getting knocked up and finding out I was pregnant while going through a bumpy patch wasn’t what they had in mind. Especially Dad.”
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