“Watch and learn from the master, sweetie,” I said. “Levy, want to help Auntie Em clean up the doggie poopie?”
“No, das yucky.”
“But if you want your own puppy, you have to help clean up after them.”
Persistently, he shook his head. “No.”
“Then you don’t want a puppy.”
“I hab one?” His eyes brightened, totally missing the point. I crouched so that we were eye level.
“No. Puppies are a big responsibility,” I explained. “You have to feed them. Can you feed them?”
“Yes!”
“And brush them. You have to brush them, too. And take them for walks. And to the doctors. And love them. Can you do all of that, too? ”
“Yes! I hab puppy?”
“After you help me clean up the poopie.”
“No.”
Coop giggled behind her hand. “Did you really think that was going to work?”
“I didn’t think he’d clean it up, but I thought I’d dissuade him from wanting a puppy.”
“That went well.”
“I’m aware.”
“What’re you going to do now?”
“SHHHAAAAAANE!”
♪♫♪♫
We sat gathered around a large table in a bistro functioning out of what used to be a masonic temple. Later, the guys wanted to check out the local brewery that ran an open mic night, but with the time difference, our four hour flight took us two hours into the past. It was early afternoon in Nampa. We had a few hours to spare.
“So what’s the story?” Tate inquired, before biting into a pork taco. Dipping the tip of his finger into his mouth, he cleaned away a strand of stray pork. “Damn, you gotta try this, babe.”
Coop balked away. “Is it spicy?”
“Not at all.” Holding Tate’s gaze, Coop took a bite of the taco from Tate’s hand. He grinned, wiping a smudge of BBQ sauce from the corner of her mouth.
“Jesus,” said Carter, throwing his napkin down on the table. “They’re eye humping each other right at the table.”
“Stai ‘zitto, Carter. They’re in love.”
“I don’t even know what that means, Emster.”
Shane leaned forward, looking past me to his bandmate. “It means shut the fuck up.”
Levy, who was absorbed in the puppies at his feet, was oblivious to Shane’s slip. Be that as it may, everyone looked his way.
“Carter was throwing snowballs at me,” I explained, diverting everyone’s attention. “So I hit him.”
Carter, who was raising his drink to his mouth, paused at over my lack of attention to detail. “She broke my nose.”
“Really broke it,” Jake inquired, or ‘According to Carter’ broke it?”
“According to Jess,” Carter clarified. “I couldn’t go to the hospital. It was a snow emergency.”
“Mom can look at it when we get back,” Tate assured. “Though I doubt you’ll need it. Jess is as good as any. She have to straighten it?”
“Yeah.” Staring at me, Carter narrowed his eyes. “Jess straightened it.”
“I apologized!” I exclaimed. Dio mio, I’d never heard the end of it.
“You shouldn’t have,” Shane spoke up. “He got what he deserved.”
“I kissed you,” Carter griped. “Big effing deal.”
“You kissed Em?” Jake repeated. “Dude, that’s wrong on all accounts.”
“It’s their own fault,” Carter said in defense. “They set me up!”
“There’re lines that aren’t ever to be crossed,” Jake insisted. “Sisters and ex-girlfriends, no matter the tense, no matter the excuse. You just don’t touch them.”
Carter rolled his eyes and slammed the rest of his drink. “Whatever. She liked it.”
Shaking my head, I rolled my eyes. “Come un ditto nel culo con la sabbia.”
Shane sniggered, though I didn’t think he got the full meaning. He was observant, but that particular phrase wasn’t one I’d used before.
“What?” Carter asked, his gaze flickering back and forth between us. “What did she just say?”
“Something about a finger in the culo,” Shane explained. “I didn’t get the rest of it.”
“Like a sandy finger in the culo,” I translated. “As in: I liked your kiss as much as a sandy finger in the culo.”
Carter flipped me the bird as the rest of the table sniggered at my crude rebuttal. “I felt nothing, sweetheart. Nothing at all.”
“Is that why you kissed me twice?”
“Once, I kissed you once. I smacked your ass the other time, and sucked your neck. It was all a ruse.”
“That explains Carter’s black eye,” Cooper said impatiently, “but what about the rest of you?” She’d been dying to hear of the details since we debarked. We couldn’t hold off any longer. Luckily, we discussed what we would and wouldn’t tell her during the flight. Garrison’s confession stood at the top of the list.
Coop was an altruistic soul. She would assume blame, even though she played only an unsuspecting role in my plan. The last thing she needed was the added stress.
Gaze dropping to my plate, I pushed my steak around with my fork. “I went to see Giovanna before I left. Tommy was there.”
“Jesus,” Coop exclaimed, grazing over my cat scratches in horror. “Did he do that to you?”
“Oh, no,” I said quickly. “That was Ashley Lemming. Shane and I went to pick up your albums at Garrison’s. Garrison had a change of heart. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize Shane was in the car. He—”
“He was well aware I was in the car,” Shane interjected. Interpretation: the farmer in the dell knew the drummer liked me.
“Maybe.” I wasn’t admitting that though.
“He knew,” Shane insisted.
“Per amor di Dio! Carter kissed me and you laughed! Garrison kissed me and an MMA match broke out!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Coop interjected. “Where does Ashley Lemming come into all of this?”
“Oh, well, while the two gorillas were beating their chests, and each other, she jumped out of her car and started filming the whole thing, so I broke her phone. She didn’t take it too kindly.”
“What was she doing at Garrison’s in the first place?”
My stomach curled. The whole subject was making me sick again. I bit the inside of my cheek, focused on the pain. It was all I could do to finish the conversation. “He’s selling the farm. Moving. Starting over.”
“Wow,” Coop sighed, stabbing at her salad. “He really loved that place. I didn’t think he’d ever sell it.”
Coop’s comment stabbed me like a knife in the chest. Guilt welled up, rimmed my eyes like tears. Shane grasped my hand under the table. I took strength in it, staving off the ache. “I think it reminded him too much of Melanie.”
“How about this Tommy,” Tate asked, prudently changing the subject. “Is he going to be trouble for you?”
“No,” Marshall answered. “I don’t think he’ll be trouble for anyone for a long, long time.” Fighting a smirk, he shoved a giant cut of steak into his mouth.
“You look as pleased as punch.”
“Immensely.”
“You’re not without your own bruises.”
“I was taken unaware.”
“Taken unaware,” Tate said doubtfully. As if there was another way to best Marshall.
Swallowing the mouthful of steak, Marshall took a swig of beer, clearing his mouth. “Let me tell you how this all went down.”
Tate’s face split into a slow, but side smile. “I’m intrigued.”
“This is the official report now…”
“As if you would tell anything but the complete truth.”
“I was escorting Miss Cipollini to visit her daughter when Mr. Machiavelli stepped out of the shadows and struck me with a blunt object. While I was momentarily subdued, he proceeded to assault Miss Cipollini. I believe he was bent on revenge against my client for sending him to prison.�
�
“He has a history of abuse,” Derek added. “It’s all on record.”
Taking a sip of my wine, I washed the bitter taste of unease from my mouth. I was still nervous with the possible flaws in our story. “I have a restraining order. It was also against his terms of parole to contact me in any way.”
“When I recovered my senses,” Marshall continued, “I found Mr. Machiavelli had attacked Miss Cipollini. Miss Cipollini’s clothes were torn. She had several scrapes on her neck where she had to fend off his attack. It appeared her efforts were successful. Mr. Machiavelli was lying on his side, clutching his groin.”
“I kneed him,” I said. “Twice, I think. Maybe three times. I can’t be sure. Everything was a blur. I was frightened. He threatened to kill me.”
“Once I was sure of my client’s safety, I contacted my partner, who notified the authorities and requested medical assistance.”
“Emergency services said that with swelling and bruising of that proportion to the testicles, surgery was to be expected, and would likely result in infertility,” Derek advised. “Had Marshall regained consciousness sooner, and had we not been in such a remote location, emergency services might have reached us faster, and the outcome of possible recovery would’ve increased greatly.”
“Infertility,” Jake observed. “That’s an ironic twist in karma, no?”
“Karma. Sure.” Smiling, Marshall practically glowed. He was ever so proud of himself. I would’ve patted him on the back, but I had a fear of him sharing a cell with Garrison. No amount of revenge was worth people suffering because of me. I was completely opposed to the whole idea.
“As fitting as it all sounds,” Coop spoke up, “you’re all betting on Ashley Lemming keeping her mouth shut. When this story comes out in the media, she’s bound to tell everybody and their mother that you didn’t get those scratches while defending yourself from Tommy.”
“She won’t talk,” Shane assured. This was the only reason I went along with the whole charade. Well, no, I would’ve went along in any case. They were going to beat this shit out of Tommy no matter what I said. Nothing would’ve stopped them, but this small morsel of knowledge was the only thing to set my remotely at ease.
“What makes you so sure?” Coop inquired, sharing my doubt. Finished with her salad, she placed her fork along the edge of her dish. We’re a pair, she and I. Our waists were honed by battered nerves. I can’t claim to have worked hard for it, but I can say my figure came at a price.
“Because after Emelia decimated her phone, I took what was left of it. The phone might’ve been destroyed, but that doesn’t mean that the data on it wasn’t recoverable. The last thing I want or need is my dirty laundry aired over the internet.”
“She could’ve had it backed up online.”
“Doesn’t matter if she does,” Shane insisted. “She’s not going to anyone with it.”
“She had some pretty interesting stuff on her SD card,” Carter explained. “Some images and videos of things I’m positive she wouldn’t want anyone to see.”
“For real?” Coop asked, a smile crawling across her face. She leaned forward, eager for information. I had to give the girl credit. She could bounce back. “Like what?”
“Let’s just say that the ice cream shop chic and the coffee shop chic are spreading a lot more than gossip between the two of them.”
Chapter 15
There wasn’t much to Nampa, though it was pleasant simply because of the forced casualness of the place. It was a nice change from Pennsylvania, a nice change from the everyday hustle and bustle. Everything seemed to move at a slower pace.
We spent our few days there, if not in the hotel room, then in the dog park. Carter was right. The names we chose did turn heads. Shane and I decided we had much to learn about obedience training. Contrary to Cesar Milan’s program, it did not happen in the span of a one hour show. I had known that, but I needed to reiterate it to myself every so often. Just like I had to reiterate to the dogs that eating underwear and pooping on the floor along Shane’s side of the bed was unacceptable.
When Derek was kind enough to watch the puppies for the afternoon, we were able to visit the Air Museum and a winery. They had the usual activities like bowling and movie going, and outdoor activities like skiing and hiking, but for the most part, Shane and I spent our time together in seclusion. I hardly found it an imposition.
“Let me help,” Shane said quietly. I turned and gathered the hair off my neck so that he could clasp my necklace. It was New Year’s Eve. We were headed to the Idaho center for the first of Hautboy’s three rescheduled concerts. It was in the single digits, but I managed to talk myself into wearing a little red number that covered my boobs from my nipple down, if I was careful. The teardrop diamond I wanted to wear would rest at my breastbone, hopefully drawing a little attention away from my assets. “Secretly, I’ve always wanted to do this.”
“Fasten a necklace?”
“It always seemed so intimate. There.” I felt the weight of the chain drop against my neck, followed by the warmth of Shane’s breath and then the scrape of his teeth as they closed over my nape. Goosebumps rose across my arms and shoulders.
“Did it hold up to your expectations?” Despite that my lady bits were still aching from Shane’s constant attention, I felt myself growing wet for him.
“It exceeded them.” Dropping his hands to my hips, he guided me back, nestling the curve of my ass against his groin. His skin, still damp from the shower, clung to my bare back where my dress scooped down. Slowly, he rode the ridge of his cock along the cleft of my ass. “What do you say—one more time for the road?”
I don’t know why he asked. It wasn’t a question. And it wasn’t as if I would turn him down. His attention was a welcome change of pace. I swirled my hips in a circle over the head of his cock, eliciting a groan.
“Illegal, you should be illegal, Emelia.” Reaching down, he snapped my thong once then twice. It fell to the floor like a curl of ribbon at my toes. A second later, his fingers were parting me, sliding against my clit. His other hand rose to my breasts, working my dress down until they mushroomed over the satin cups of my bodice. Tweaking one dusky nipple between his finger and thumb, he sucked a sharp breath through his teeth, as if he felt the raw bite of pleasure it caused me.
Across the room, there was a sharp rap at the door. “Heading out!” Jake called. “You got five.”
“Fucker.” Resting his forehead against my shoulder, Shane dragged a ragged breath. “I think you just received a temporary reprieve.”
“I didn’t ask for one.”
“Don’t have time.”
“For me, but there’s plenty for you.” Kicking my heels from my feet, I turned and dropped to my knees.
“Emelia, you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” I gave him a sexy grin, looking up from under my lashes. My tongue raced across my lip as I undid his zipper and peeled his jeans down. His erection stretched across his hip. I traced it with the palm of my hand and then pulled the edge of his briefs down, careful to keep the elastic from snapping back on him.
Oral sex was never at the top of my list of things to do. In fact, it was largely a chore. Mainly, because it seemed to take forever. Unlike Shane, Tommy was unresponsive and rarely encouraging. What he liked was always a guessing game.
But Shane was different. The noises he made, the expressions that crossed his face were empowering. They broke down my constraint and fueled my confidence. They made me feel desired. Made me feel like a fucking goddess in my own skin.
Safely freed from his jeans, I stroked the length of him while cupping his balls in my other hand. Ever so gently, I caressed them, testing their weight. Shane fell forward, flattening his hands on the wall behind me, his knees going weak.
“Suck it, Emelia. Hard and fast.”
His fingers curled, grazing the sheetrock as I slid my mouth over the satiny head of his cock and closed my lips around him. I swirled m
y tongue as I pulled back and then took him deeper. With each pitch forward, I worked him faster.
Before long, Shane was matching my rhythm. I only faltered when he became overeager, triggering my gag reflex. He quickly pulled back until it passed.
I laughed throatily, trying to catch my breath. My eyes watered at the corners. I hoped my mascara didn’t run. I’d have a hard time explaining that. “Jesus, Richardson, my jaw doesn’t unhinge.”
“Can’t help it. You feel fuckin’ amazing.” Reaching down, he cupped my chin, used his thumb to wipe a smear of lipstick from the corner of my mouth.
“Thank you.”
“You look beautiful.”
“I suppose I would with my lips wrapped around your cock.” His chuckle fell short when I took him back into my mouth. It ended in a sharp hiss. Looking down at me, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and began rocking his hips again.
Holding his gaze, I began to really work him. I could’ve gotten off on the changes in his expression. When I grazed him with my teeth, his mouth popped open on a gasp that wasn’t quite pain. When I reached back with my finger and massaged the rise of muscle behind his testicles, his eyes closed and he thrummed in the back of his throat, making a purr-like sound. It made me wonder what would send him over the edge. Mischievously, I grazed his anus with the tip of my finger. I could feel it contract under my touch, but to my surprise, that feather light brush sent him into orgasm, and he thrust forward, emptying himself at the back of my throat.
“Jesus, Emelia,” he choked, catching his breath. “What the hell?”
“You seemed to like it,” I pointed out.
“No, not necessarily. You can’t just go around and poking fingers where they’re not supposed to go.”
“Sorry?” Won’t do that again, though it left me confused. I was sure he liked it.
Sighing, Shane opened his eyes. A smile played at edge of his mouth. “I didn’t come because you tickled my asshole, Emelia. I came because you threw off my concentration. I was trying to make it last a little longer. I’m always racing toward the finish line the second I’m out of the gate when I’m with you.”
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