by Layla Hagen
“You work too much.” I push his laptop away, climbing in his lap. I undo the belt of my kimono, giving him a view of my naked skin, hoping that’ll take his mind off whatever troubles he’s having. Judging by his sharp intake of air, I succeed. He pushes the fabric off to the sides, completely baring my breasts. He looks at them with a delicious hunger, riling me up to no end.
Instead of touching me, though, he drops his hands to his sides. All right, two can play at this teasing game.
“You carry a sketch pad in your bag,” Eric remarks.
I shrug. “You never know when inspiration strikes. Let’s make a deal for this week. If one of us thinks the other is overworking to death, we step in. You scratch my back, and I scratch yours. What do you say?”
“Deal.” He pushes my kimono off my shoulders and drums his finger on the bare skin below my neck. His brow is furrowed as if he’s considering something.
“What?” I squirm in his lap, trying to get a feel for the situation. Oh, yeah, there’s definitely a hard situation. This man’s libido is working in overdrive, and I love it.
“So, do we have to scratch the back, or can it be something else?” He kisses my jaw, then my neck and descends the valley of my breasts. I lean back, giving him better access.
“‘Cause I have a much better suggestion.” He whispers the words seductively against my skin while he feathers his fingers over my nipples, turning them to hard nubs.
“Like what?” I meant to say the word as seductively as he did, but my voice is an uneven mess.
“This.” His thumb circles my sweet spot, applying pressure to it.
My hips instantly buck up as I cry out. “I… Ah. This is….”
“You can’t form full sentences, Ms. Bennett. Now, why would that be?”
His thumb continues to torture my bundle of nerves, and despite wanting to give this bastard a snappy reply, the only word making it past my lips is “Fuck.”
“Orgasms relieve stress, you know.” Eric’s eyes are hooded with desire, and I shudder when he pulls me to him, fisting my hair.
“Prove it,” I whisper. And he does.
***
“Thank God, it’s Friday,” I exclaim an hour later, dropping on Eric’s bed while munching on a slice of pizza.
“You should eat healthier,” Alice reprimands.
“Oh, stop being such a buzzkill. I intend to keep my unhealthy habits for as long as I can get away with it.”
“At least you’re showing up at the gym regularly,” Alice says appreciatively.
“Pick your shoes, so we can start our girls’ night,” I instruct. I’ve already decided on a dark blue sequin dress and white pumps. My sister is currently trying to decide whether she should go with black or golden strap sandals. Since the short dress she’s going to wear is also black, I’m in favor of the gold ones.
Eric enters the room, staring at the multiple pairs of shoes lined up in disbelief.
“What’s with the shoe parade?” he asks, and Alice shoots daggers at him with her eyes.
“Eric,” I warn. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t say anything else.”
“Yeah,” Alice adds. “Don’t get between a woman and her shoes.”
Eric holds up his hands in defense, saying, “I’m open to learning. I won’t comment anymore.”
Alice whips her head in his direction, saying, “You’re a keeper.”
“Right,” Eric says. “I’ll leave you two to change.”
An hour later, Alice and I are ready, and we look sexy as hell, if I may say so.
“We’re ready,” I call out to let Eric know he can come into the bedroom if he needs to. Predictably, he steps in not two seconds later.
His eyes rake over my body, resting on my curves much longer than polite since we’re not alone, and for some reason, he sets his jaw. All right, I was expecting a compliment. I cock an eyebrow at him.
Alice catches the wordless exchange and eerily says, “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Let me get this straight. Is a ‘girls’ night out’ code for picking up guys?”
I chuckle. So that’s what this is about. “No.”
“You shouldn’t look this irresistible unless you go out with me.”
“You think I’m irresistible?” I bat my eyelashes at him, pushing my left hip out as if I’m posing for a photo.
In a fraction of a second, Eric closes the distance to me, hooking an arm around my waist from behind.
“You look gorgeous, Pippa.” He trails his finger over my bare shoulder, drawing the movement out with exquisite slowness. “Beautiful.” He stops touching, and instead kisses me there. I’m on fire instantly. “But these shoes… They shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”
“Where should they be allowed?” I ask in a breathy voice.
Swiping my hair to one side, he kisses my neck and whispers, “In bed with me.” His tone is low and suggestive, sending shivers down my back.
Eric turns me around, pins me against the door, and kisses me passionately. The last coherent thought before I’m ravaged by sensations is Good thing I’m not wearing any lipstick. He is not holding back. His mouth is hot and hard on mine, exploring me like a man possessed. His lips are rough, demanding, and I love it. With one hand, he pins my wrists above my head, gripping my waist tightly with the other.
“Fuck,” he says on a groan. “I want you.”
“Back at you,” I whisper, savoring his taste on my lips. “But I have to go.”
Eric lets go of me, stepping back and glancing at me up and down, then says, “I’ll drive the two of you to the bar.”
“Okay,” I reply, surprised by the sudden offer. “Julie—”
“Ms. Blackwell will stay with her until I return.”
“Right. Let’s go.” Now I’m not just surprised, but downright suspicious.
“Well, that’s very gentlemanly of you,” Alice remarks when I inform her Eric will drive us. “Thank you.”
I have a suspicion his offer to drive us has nothing to do with being a gentleman. He shrugs, pointing at the door, as if saying, ‘After you.’ Alice and I say good-bye to Julie, who looks at us longingly, as if jealous that she can’t join us.
“Have fun with Ms. Blackwell until your dad returns,” I tell her.
“I miss Ms. Smith. Ms. Blackwell is no fun,” Julie says with a dramatic sigh. I remember Eric telling me Ms. Smith is her other nanny in Boston. Next to me, Eric chuckles, but his smile fades when Julie says, “I can’t wait to stay with your mom, Pippa.”
Ah, if Eric feels blue because she wants to spend a week at my mom’s, he’ll be depressed when she’s a teenager. Now I’m depressed because I won’t be around them to experience it. Way to start my night out.
The bar is located in a posh area downtown. Predictably, the traffic is a buzzkill. Eric throws me hot looks every few minutes, and I do a poor job of ignoring him. Every time I feel his eyes on me, my skin heats up. If we continue like this, I won’t even get out of the car. After a million minutes, we arrive in front of the bar. Ah, a night infused with estrogen and girl talk. This is exactly what I need. The evening air has a pleasant smell—a mix of jasmine and cherry.
Eric rounds the corner of the car, and when he’s right in front of me, he surprises me by hooking an arm around my waist and pulling me in to a kiss. He swipes his tongue over mine first, then slides it in my mouth, kissing me ferociously. I respond in kind.
“What was that about?” I ask after we pull apart.
“Now every guy in this bar knows not to try anything because you’re mine.” He says this with a smug smile, as if it’s the most foolproof plan in the world. This has too much potential for fun for me not to poke holes in it.
“You think every man inside was watching us?” I ask.
“Trust me, they’ll know.”
“What if we change bars? We might barhop tonight. Tequila here, cocktails across the ro
ad.”
His arm tightens around me possessively. “Are you serious?”
“If I say yes, will you take me in every bar and kiss me like that again? ‘Cause then it’s yes all the way.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He strikes his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes zeroing in on my mouth.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Have fun with the girls.”
“I will,” I promise. I step on the sidewalk, waving to him as he leaves. I turn to Alice, who waits for me by the entrance, whistling loudly.
“That was one hell of a kiss. I could sense the alpha vibes all the way over here,” she comments.
“Yep. My knees are still feeling the effects of so much testosterone. That was hot.”
“No disagreement here. Let’s go inside. The girls are already here.”
The bar is buzzing with voices—laughter, giggles, arguments, everything. The lights are dim, bathing the entire room in an intimate atmosphere. Intimate and edgy, as if sinful things are about to happen here. Well, not for me; I’m here to have fun with my girls. But once I return to Eric’s house, we’ll get sinful all the way. With his kiss still lingering on my lips, I stalk toward the girls, energy strumming through my body. Ava, Nadine, Summer, and Caroline, who is a good friend of mine, are sitting at a round table, looking like they’re up to no good. The second Alice and I join them the atmosphere becomes downright infectious.
“Okay,” Caroline says, “I say we order a round of tequila, and then each of us starts sharing her news.”
“I won’t drink tonight,” Ava says sheepishly.
“Why ever the hell not?” I ask.
Blushing, she glances quickly at Nadine before saying, “I think I’m pregnant.”
The rest of us simultaneously erupt in a parade of “congrats” and “greats,” and we take turns hugging her.
“Don’t say anything to Sebastian, though,” Ava says after everyone’s quieted down. “I want to wait until I can be sure.”
“Wow,” Alice remarks, “so Logan lost his bet.”
“He’ll live,” Nadine says.
“You warmed up to Seamus, in case it’s a boy?” I ask, rubbing my palms excitedly.
“Over my dead body,” Ava says.
“Aww, come on. It’s cute,” I reply, which doesn’t earn me any points with Ava. The name seemed ridiculous when Sebastian first came up with it, but now I’m kind of fond of it.
To make up to my sister-in-law, I offer, “I am going to be your wingwoman tonight, and I won’t drink any alcohol either.”
Nadine purses her lips. “Now you’re making me feel guilty for not offering first.”
“How about we’re all alcohol-free?” Alice suggests, and we all nod in agreement.
Once we’re armed with an assortment of mocktails and teas, we clink glasses, and Caroline asks, “So, what will it take to get the three of you to dance on the bar tonight?”
Alice, Summer, and I groan in unison.
“I know we put on quite a show at the bachelorette party, but I’m not up to a repeat of the experience,” I announce.
“Besides, we don’t have the balls to do it without any alcohol,” Alice says.
“I do,” Summer counters unexpectedly. “But not if I’m the only one.”
Alice and I stare at her.
“Who are you, and what have you done with our sister?” I ask.
Summer merely shrugs, glancing from her mocktail with an innocent look.
“You girls were epic,” Ava says.
“I still watch the video from time to time,” Nadine admits.
“I can’t believe you filmed it,” Alice states.
“Are you kidding me? That night went down in history as TNTBGWW.”
“What?” my sisters and I ask in unison.
“The Night the Bennett Girls Went Wild,” Nadine says, clearly on the verge of bursting into laughter.
So yeah, my sisters and I might have gotten a bit carried away at Ava’s bachelorette party, and we somehow ended up dancing on the bar. And Nadine filmed us. We did a dubious impression of the French cancan. We made total asses of ourselves, but it was fun.
“What do you think the guys did at the bachelor party?” I ask, genuinely curious. “I tried to get it out of Blake, but the bastard won’t say anything.”
“They went to Vegas,” Ava says. “I’m not sure we want to know.”
“Oh, I already know,” Summer says. “But I’m not saying anything.”
We all turn to her.
“Why do you always keep the boys’ secrets?” I inquire.
“Cause otherwise they won’t tell me all of them,” Summer replies smugly, shooting me a significant look. Okay, so yeah, my Keeper of Secrets title isn’t exactly warranted. I’m much better at spilling secrets. But Summer, my baby sister, has all the boys wrapped around her little finger. Once upon a time, Alice was the boys’ girl. She was a tomboy through and through, especially in her teenage years. I suspect this also has to do with the fact she was crushing on Sebastian’s friend and was using her tomboy status to hang out with them. “My lips are sealed.”
“Fine,” Alice says with a faux I-give-up air. If there’s one thing Alice doesn’t do, it’s giving up. She will wriggle the details out of Summer eventually, one way or the other.
“Can I bribe you with a dress, Summer? Custom-made for you?” Nadine asks, batting her eyelashes at my sister. Summer has a weakness for beautiful dresses, and Nadine’s designs are nothing short of superb.
For a split second, Summer hesitates, but then she firmly shakes her head. “Nope. Besides, you have enough work as it is.”
“That’s true,” Nadine replies, massaging her neck. “Logan and I will go on a vacation next month. Can’t wait. An entire week of nothing but good food and excellent sex.”
I hold up my hand, shaking my head. “Stop. I don’t want to hear about my brother’s skills in bed. I will never be able to unhear that kind of conversation.”
“I think you’ve been around Julie too much,” Nadine says. “You’re used to censored talk. You need some more dirty talk.”
“Yeah,” Ava agrees. “Come over to the dark side.”
Alice is the only one who doesn’t join the conversation. At first, I think it’s because she’s on my side, but then I see her smile.
“Oh, Pippa’s been getting plenty of dirty action,” Alice says. “Why don’t you share some dirty details, big sister?”
“Wonderful idea,” Nadine adds.
Oh, no. There’s no way I can get out of this.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Everything,” Ava says, at the same time Alice asks, “Do you love him?”
Ava elbows Alice while Nadine drums her fingers on the table, slicing a threatening glance at my sister.
“You had to jump right to that, didn’t you?” Nadine asks. “That wasn’t the plan.”
A knot forms in my throat. “You had a plan?”
“Well,” Alice begins. “We were supposed to first make you tell us what you like in bed, then in general about him. The last step was to make you admit that you love him.”
I decide to put the girls out of their misery. “I do love him, but that doesn’t change things. He has his life in Boston, and I respect that.”
“So, you’re giving up?” Alice says.
“No, Alice. I’m doing what I can so I won’t be too heartbroken in a few weeks.”
“Are you okay?” Summer asks. For a split second, I toy with the idea of brushing her worry off as I did with my brothers, and say I have my big girl panties on. But truthfully, I’m not okay. And maybe it’s time I took Eric’s advice and stop with the bravado around my family.
“I’m not,” I answer. “He’s sweet and attentive, and I love every second I’m spending with him and his daughter. And I’m terrified that they’ll be going back to Boston.” Voicing this out loud has the unexpected effect of making the knot in my throat feel less tight.
/> The girls are silent for a few seconds, and then Summer says, “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of you.”
“Yeah,” Alice says. “We have your back, sis.”
Caroline claps her hands and, in a stroke of genius, says, “Time for a subject change.”
“Hear, hear,” I agree. “Shoes?”
“Oooh, yes,” Alice says. “I bought the best pair the other day.”
We spend the rest of the night talking about everything under the sun, and I manage to relax. Come September, I will be heartbroken. I know that. But knowing I can rely on my friends and family makes this slightly easier. Just slightly.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Pippa
The next morning, mayhem reigns in the Callahan household. Julie wakes up late and goes into a frenzy as she starts packing. Eric is in a frenzy too, panicking more about Julie’s departure with every passing second. He’s adorable.
I spend some time talking to Ava on the phone, consoling her after she texts me with the sad news that it was a false alarm, and there will be no baby Seamus after all.
When it becomes clear that Julie and Eric are driving themselves crazy trying to pack, I put my foot down, instructing Eric to go in the living room and relax, and I help Julie.
“I don’t think you’ve forgotten anything,” I tell Julie a few hours later. We’re in her room, inspecting her full bags one last time.
“I’m so excited to go.” She almost squeaks out the words.
“I can see that.”
She’s been talking my ear off the entire afternoon about all the things she and the girls are planning to do. I’ve tried to sneak in as much advice as I could during our conversation, but I’m not sure she listened to any of it. She’s riding high on enthusiasm right now. A loud honk resounds from outside the house, putting an end to our inspection. We ticked off everything that was on the to-pack list twice already, anyway. She’s good to go.
“They’re here.” Julie claps her hands. My cousin Jamie is picking her up. He’s driving her and his three daughters to my mom’s. Two of the girls are Julie’s age, and the oldest one is sixteen. Predictably, she doesn’t appear to be looking forward to spending an entire week with twelve-year-olds.