by M. S. Parker
I really hoped that meant what I thought it did.
“I’m going to taste you now, Leslie,” he muttered against my thigh.
The sound of his voice, raw and hungry, had my toes curling, and I sagged backward, my shoulders coming to rest against the wall.
The first brush of his tongue had me biting my lip to keep from making any noise. The second had me covering my mouth with my hand.
When he bit my clit, scraping it with his teeth, I couldn’t stop the harsh cry, could only muffle it. He growled in approval before stabbing his tongue into me, over and over again.
But right when I thought one more touch would send me over, he shifted and began to press soft kisses to the crease of my thigh.
“You bastard.”
He laughed quietly. “Anticipation makes it better. Haven’t you ever learned that?”
“Bastard,” I repeated.
He stroked a finger down my folds, opening me, and then he licked me again, kissed me. Pressed his mouth against me and proved again that his tongue was talented at more than just singing.
He worked me right back up to the edge, doing it over and over until I was begging him to make me come. Only when I was almost in tears, my body throbbing with a need like nothing I'd felt before, did he stand.
He gripped my hips and pulled me to the edge of the table, thrusting in deep with one stroke. We were eye to eye, and the intimacy of it cut right through to my core. His blue eyes seared me, lighting up places I hadn’t even realized were cold and dark.
“Leslie…” My name was a raspy growl and then he was kissing me and I never wanted him to stop.
Not ever.
Was it possible to want somebody too much?
I doubted it had even been thirty minutes since we’d disappeared into the bedroom, and we’d had sex twice. And I still wanted more of him.
As we slid out of the bedroom, I gave into the urge and moved up behind him, sliding my arms around his waist. He tensed for a moment, then stopped. Pressing my face against his back, I breathed in the scent of him and let myself wish, let myself wonder.
His hands covered mine and we stood like that for a few moments.
I don’t remember which one of us pulled away first, but when we walked into the kitchen, we did it without speaking and sat back down in the seats where we’d been earlier.
Our coffee had gone cold. I picked up mine and drank it anyway.
After a moment, Paxton did the same and we just sat there, staring at each other.
Eventually, he got up and moved over to the refrigerator and opened it. “I’m going to make some breakfast. Would you like some?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
He nodded, not looking at me.
I almost laughed. I’d come out here earlier and told him that everything was fine, we were both adults and could handle the fact that we’d gone and had sex.
Then we’d gone and done it again, and now we were walking on eggshells.
Or were we?
It…something felt different.
I couldn’t even explain what it was, but something was just…different
Determined to think about something else – anything else – I got up and carried my coffee cup over to the sink, washing it out, and putting it in the dish rack where the glass he’d been using for whiskey the night before still sat.
“How long have you been clean?”
From the corner of my eye, I could see the way his hands stilled. Turning my head, I looked at him. He cocked his eyebrow.
“Little details,” I said. “Sooner or later, we’ll have to talk about that in detail.”
A humorless smile curled his lips. “Great pillow talk, Leslie.”
“It’s not like we’re lovers.” It was just as much to remind myself as anything.
A muscle in his jaw pulsed, but he shrugged casually. “True. Just a couple of acquaintances. We had a couple of good hard fucks, right?”
“They were very good.” My heart stuttered and blood rushed to heat my cheeks, but I didn’t look away from him. “That doesn’t mean I don’t have questions I need to ask as your lawyer. I figured I might as well get some of them out of the way.”
“Sure. Why not?”
He was quiet for a moment, and I watched as he got an omelet started. “It took two tries before I kicked everything, but I was clean before Carter was born. I…well, I grew up seeing my parents abuse drugs, each other…me.”
He shrugged, the motion lacking his normal, smooth grace. That told me more than his words how much he hated talking about it.
“I told myself that if I ever had kids, that wouldn’t be me. Of course, I also told myself I wouldn’t get hooked on shit like they did, and what did I do? But at least I was able to quit.”
He was smiling to himself now, and the love in that smile told me exactly who he was thinking of.
“You had a good reason to quit.”
He looked up at me. “Yeah. The best. But I had to do it for me, first. I promised myself I’d do better than my parents, and I am. Of course, some wild animals eat their young, and they would make better parents than my folks did.” He flipped the omelet, silent for a few moments before continuing. “Once I was able to stop, though, for good, the world was more real. Things were clearer, music was better, and I found myself wondering why I’d ever gone down that rabbit hole to begin with.”
“Did you ever figure that out?”
“It was easier.” He shrugged. “No one thing set me off. I’d have some weed here, some coke there. Then I was using more and more, and before I knew it, I was addicted. Then Brinke and I got together and we were both using and…”
He blew out a breath and turned away, grabbed a couple of plates from a glass-fronted cabinet.
Once we were sitting down, he looked at me. “Next question?”
Laughing, I said, “I think that will do it for now. I need to eat and then get out of here. It’s way past time to go.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but he just nodded. Part of me wished he'd argued, but we both knew the truth of it. Our time together had pretty much come to an end.
And that was for the best.
Chapter Seventeen
Leslie
We ate in silence, and although the omelet was delicious, I was only able to eat half of what he gave me. I wasn't nauseous, but I didn't have my usual appetite. When I couldn't eat anymore, I stood, intending to take my plate into the kitchen when we both heard the door open.
Shit.
Paxton set his jaw and stood up, his eyes skimming me from top to bottom.
Bad enough that I’d slept with him, but it was pretty obvious – or at least it was to me – that I’d spent the night. He bent down, scooped up the jacket I’d draped over my file bag and helped me slip into it. “Let me handle this.”
My gut twisted into hot, slippery knots as I reached for my coffee so I could have something in my hands.
The woman who appeared in the doorway bore little resemblance to the glamorous creature featured next to Paxton in online promo shots. Although she was still lovely, she was too thin, her eyes sunken, face gaunt. I could still see the resemblance to Carter though.
Pale blue eyes skewered me. “Who the fuck are you?”
Before I could answer, Paxton rested a hand on my shoulder. “Brinke, this is Leslie. She’s a lawyer handling some issues we’ve been having...” He stopped abruptly and laughed, not even trying to disguise the brittle sound of it. “What in the hell do you care? You haven't bothered to show up for anything on our new album.”
I had to appreciate the skillful way he'd implied I was a studio lawyer without actually saying it. While I doubted she'd made the distinction when she finally did find out, she couldn't say he'd actually lied about who I was.
He moved past me and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water. “Guess I ought to start looking for another backup singer. Raina and Leona can’t do it all.”
Color flooded her face, hot little splotches that rode her cheekbones and accentuated the hollows there. She was thin, almost to the point of skeletal with shadows under her eyes. She was still very pretty, but it was obvious she was no longer using drugs, they were using her. Using her up.
“I haven’t been feeling well, you know that.” She gave him an imploring look and ignored me. That was good.
“Seems to be a lot of that. You aren’t feeling well, Darla isn’t either. Kind of weird, how she had to have her appendix removed twice.” He shot her a cutting look.
I pretended to be enraptured with my coffee, not wanting to draw attention to myself. But from under my lashes, I watched Brinke’s face, saw the way her lids flickered, saw understanding in her eyes, and then something else.
“Oh, honey…” She smiled and walked up to him.
My temper sparked as she started to curl her arms around him, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists before she touched him.
Brinke gave him a mock pout and then glanced over at me, winking. “He doesn’t like public displays of affection.” Sighing lustily, she moved back to the island and sat down, picking up his mostly untouched coffee and drinking it. Then she cut into his omelet. “It wasn’t Darla last year. It was Daria. I must have mistyped when I sent you the text. I was so upset at the time…”
She slid him a look, trying to gauge his response. He turned away, a disgusted noise escaping him.
I saw the way her mouth tightened, and then, for a brief moment, our eyes connected. The vitriol I saw there probably would have made a lot of people leery. I thought about Carter, how hurt she’d been by her mom taking off. I thought about Paxton, and how much he hated what he had to do. But I couldn't react to her the way I wanted to, couldn't react like the woman who hated everything Brinke had done to her family. Slowly, I lifted my coffee cup to my lips. Over the rim, I smiled at her.
“Just what exactly do we need a lawyer for anyway? Everything’s going fine with the album, isn’t it?” Brinke demanded, her voice going from cajoling to commanding.
“I need a lawyer because there are issues I want looked at,” Paxton said evenly.
The speculation in her eyes grew, and I could tell right away she was already suspicious. Not good. The evasive shit wasn’t going to fly.
“Licensing.” I cut Brinke off when she started to ask another question. Me lying to her was different than him doing it. “There were licensing issues early on in Mr. Gorham’s career, and I’m taking another look.”
“We do this every year.” She rolled her eyes.
“Sooner or later, we’ll get it to go the way we want to.” Paxton smiled at me faintly over her head. I could see the relief in his eyes that I'd spoken out.
“You oughta just let it go. You waste more money on the damn lawyers than it’s worth. So, there are a few songs that you got fucked over on. Big deal. You make more than enough to make up for those. Besides, lawyers will screw you in the end anyway. They are all a bunch of crooks and liars.”
I could feel my smile tightening.
She dismissed me and turned to Paxton. “Listen, honey, with everything that happened yesterday, I wasn’t able to take Carter out, and I want to make it up to her.”
“Do you think you can?” Paxton leaned back against the counter.
I eyed my bag and wondered if I’d be able to grab it, and make it out the door without being drawn into this.
“Don’t be like that.” Brinke waved a hand. “Kids are resilient.”
“That doesn’t mean you treat them like shit,” he growled.
“I had an emergency!” she snapped. Then, she stopped, sucking in a deep breath of air. “Okay. Okay. I’m not here to fight. I want to take Carter out today. We’ll go to the park, grab some lunch, maybe even find a different show out on Broadway.”
“Mommy?”
Shit.
Paxton muttered something that didn't sound like English under his breath as a sleepy, pj-clad Carter appeared in the doorway.
Her eyes landed on Brinke and she rushed over to her.
Brinke, to her credit, leaped up and caught the child, swinging her up into the air. The smile on her face looked real and she pressed a loud kiss to Carter’s cheek. Even I could tell the affection was genuine.
“My baby girl. I’m so sorry about yesterday. A friend got super sick. Please say you’re not mad at Mommy.”
“I’m not mad.” Carter rested her head on Brinke’s shoulder. “I was sad for a little while, but Daddy and I had fun anyway. I watched the play online because I didn't think we were going to get to see it.”
“Smart girl.”
I wonder if Brinke had any idea what Carter’s statements said about her belief in her mother as a parent in general. It sure as hell didn’t say good things.
Carter started to say something else, but she glanced my way, and whatever she’d been going to say ended in a squeal. “Leslie!”
A moment later, she was running toward me, and I self-consciously hugged her around the shoulders as she pressed her face to my belly. “Hi, there, Carter.”
“Mommy! This is Leslie! She went to the fireworks with me and Daddy!”
When Brinke looked at me this time, there was an all-new level of hatred in her eyes. I simply stared back, working to keep my face blank. I wasn't going to give her anything.
“So, you went to the fireworks with them and are back here bright and early? Wow. You’re one dedicated lawyer,” she said, her voice full of venom.
“By the time we got back, the storm had settled in,” Paxton said flatly. “There were flash flood warnings and the wind was hell. Leslie used the other guest bedroom. Feel free to get all paranoid about that, Brinke. It’s your favorite thing to do.”
She continued to stare at me for a long moment.
Finally, she cut the connection and looked at Carter. “Come on, sugar. We need to get you dressed so we can hit the town.”
They started out, but before Brinke got out of the room, Paxton caught her arm and leaned in. “Carter, you head on up, Mommy will be there in a minute.”
Once she was gone, I pretended not to hear as Paxton softly said, “Alex is going with you.”
Brinke’s eyes narrowed. “I can spend the day with my kid without a chaperone, Pax.”
“Yeah? Since when? The last time you were alone with her, you got so stoned, you ended up passed out on the bathroom floor.” He took a step toward her. “Alex goes, or Carter doesn’t. Take your choice.”
“Fine.” Brinke rolled her eyes. “It’s better if she comes anyway. She handles Carter better when the kid gets whiny.”
Wow. Talk about mom of the year.
“Listen to me, Brinke. I'm not playing around. You will stay sober today. You won’t do drugs. If you get high or even have a single drink, I’ll know, and I’ll have your ass locked up. You will not do that shit around her. Not again.”
She rolled her eyes and jerked her arm away. “I know how to take care of our baby, Pax.”
I didn’t leave right away. It seemed a little too obvious to just sneak out right after we’d managed to come up with such a convincing story. I was torn between guilt and aggravation as I drank another cup of coffee, watching as Paxton busied himself with washing up the dishes.
He seemed comfortable doing it, almost happy to have something to do with his hands, although his gaze kept straying toward the hall and I knew he was thinking about Carter…and Brinke.
When he heard them coming downstairs, he moved away from the sink to the fridge, grabbing something from inside it before heading out of the room.
I heard them talking but stayed where I was.
Brinke’s voice carried, and I had to grit my teeth as she snapped, “I can handle it, Paxton.”
I had no idea what she was going on about, nor did I really care, but I wondered if she had to handle everything like such an uber-bitch. The part of me that felt sorry for her was getting smaller all the time.
There
was a lower, softer voice, and then Paxton laughed. “Yeah, kid. I know you’re a big girl. Getting too big, if you ask me. Have fun, okay? Call me if you need me.”
They appeared in the doorway of the kitchen a moment later, and Carter trotted over to a cabinet, a backpack dangling from one hand. She waved at me before opening the cabinet and reaching inside.
“Gotta get my snacks,” she said seriously while Brinke rolled her eyes from the hall. At least there wasn't anything malicious about it.
Alex smiled at me and spoke softly to Paxton while Carter tucked a few things into her backpack. Her, I liked.
“You two have fun dealing with that…licensing issue.” Brinke gave me a simpering smile, and the snide tone in her voice rubbed me wrong.
Paxton moved back to the counter and sat down across from me, drawing Brinke's attention to him. “I’d invite you to hang around, but we both know how you hate discussing business. You just enjoy spending the money.”
“It’s just that you’re so much better at all that boring stuff, sweetheart.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed, and I recognized the signs of an old argument easy enough. She spun around, Carter’s hand in hers while Alex flanked Carter’s other side, already chatting. A few seconds later, they were all gone.
Paxton and I were now alone.
Seconds ticked by and he kept his head cocked, listening.
“Think she’s going to come back to try and catch us in a lie?”
He shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past her.” Another minute or so went by before he seemed to relax, and then he gave me a slow smile. “Licensing issues. That was fast thinking.”
I shrugged. “Not so much. I read up about you – part of the job – and I remembered reading that you had some issues with the first music label you signed with. It was the first thing that came to mind. I'm just glad she didn’t push for details.”
“She wouldn’t have. Like I already mentioned, business isn’t her thing.” His mouth twisted again and he looked irritated all over again.
Reaching out, I touched his hand. It wasn't a good idea, but I hated seeing him upset way more than I should have. “What is it?”