by Rayne, Piper
Carm
I’m sitting at the restaurant and it’s well past seven thirty. I pulled so many damn strings to get in here tonight. The waiter gives me a look as I order another scotch on the rocks.
“Sorry, she’s a realtor and you know how it is. Sometimes clients take a while to make up their mind.”
He nods with a “whatever, dude, you’re getting stood up” look. I think he might be right.
Me: Where are you? Still with the client?
It’s odd for me to be on the other side of this situation. Usually it’s my brothers or my parents or friends whining about me getting held up with a client.
Bella: Five minutes. Order me a red wine. After what you pulled, you’re lucky I’m coming at all.
The fact that she responded pulls a grin from me, but I know what I have coming when she gets here. I told Natasha Edens not to mention the fact that she came to me first. I might well get the wine I’m ordering for Bella as my appetizer after she tosses it in my face.
Her cheeks are flushed when the hostess brings her over to the table. I stand to welcome her and help her with her chair, but she shoos me away, sliding into the chair with grace.
“Long meeting?”
She picks up the menu. “I’m going to order the most expensive meal on here because if I don’t, I’m going to tell you off and stomp out of here like a thirteen-year-old girl.” Her tone displays nothing but sincerity.
The waiter comes over and places down her wine glass. I want to give him the finger and say here she is and yes, be jealous she’s mine because you could never land a woman like her. Then I realize I might lose her after this meal and my arrogant inner self quiets down.
“Would you like to order an appetizer?” He pulls out his tablet.
“Give us a minute, please,” I say, and he blows out a breath.
Bella must notice because she closes her menu. “I’m sorry about keeping you waiting. I had a meeting, and my client just went back and forth making a decision.” Her hand touches his forearm, and he inches toward her. “I do apologize, but I guarantee you Mr. Mancini”—she eyes me in case he can’t figure out that’s me—“and I will compensate you for the extra time. I’ll make sure of it.”
My teeth grind, but I force a smile. Yeah, damn Natasha Edens sold me down the river.
“Take your time. I’ll be back in a bit.” The smug early-twenty-something leaves the table with the first grin I’ve seen on his face all night.
Bella places her menu on the side of the table and grabs a piece of bread. “We need to be clear about a few things if we’re going to move forward.” She takes the butter knife and spreads some on her bread. “First off, there’s no giving me clients.”
“I was—”
She raises her hand with the butter knife in it. She looks angry enough that it could be a weapon of choice for her. “Nope. My turn to talk. You sit and listen.”
I lean back, my pants growing tight. I love when she’s angry and assertive like this. Total turn-on. I hold up my hands in a placating gesture.
“She went to you for the property. You should’ve sold it to her and gotten paid your commission. Just because I’m your bed buddy doesn’t mean you take pity on me and throw favors my way. I can sink or swim on my own.”
All I can think of is what’s going to happen tomorrow morning. She could fight Kevin Henderbrook on his contract, but it’d be wasted money. The problem I’ve debated since this afternoon rears its head—do I tell her or not? It’s not why I sent Natasha her way, but when Kevin called me, I was thankful I did. He didn’t even give her three weeks to accomplish the sale.
Screw it. I can’t let her be blindsided. “Okay, you stand on your own, but you need to know that Kevin Henderbrook is going to call you tomorrow and cancel his contract.”
Her face pales.
Unlike me, she gets paid up front, so it’s not about the money. It’s about her pride. Not to mention having a property like his sell FSBO would be a big feather in her cap when she’s courting other clients.
This isn’t what I wanted for our first dinner together. I wanted flirtatious banter. Maybe I’d get her to discreetly slide her foot up my leg. Not business talk.
“I’m sorry. He called me this afternoon. After I gave Natasha your information. I wasn’t expecting it, but he was my client and I can’t turn him down.”
“What did he say? Did he tell you that he got greedy and upped the price one hundred fifty grand when he was already saving money on realtor fees? I’m not sure what he expected by pricing himself out of the market.”
Okay, so now her talking business and her being pissed off is turning me on.
“I saw what he did. He sunk you before you had a chance. I’m sorry. He’s an unrealistic seller. He’s a pain in my ass in the buying market as well.” I sip my drink while she stares out the window.
“Sometimes I… maybe I should’ve stayed in the game. What I’m trying to do is stupid.” She sips her wine.
I straighten in my chair, placing my drink down. “Don’t say that. You’re doing awesome. I see you everywhere. FSBO is so hot right now…” My words fade as she stares at me as if I’m a talking rat that hopped on her dinner plate.
“Just don’t do it again. Don’t hand me things that aren’t mine. It only makes me feel like less of a professional, okay? I’m not looking for a prince to ride in on his white horse. I just need the damn sword.”
“What about a prince with an amazing condo and a king-size bed?”
Finally I yank a smile from her. Not her inviting one. Not the one I got blessed with this weekend post-orgasm. But it’s a start.
“Do you ever not think about sex?” she asks.
I contemplate for a moment and wink. “I thought about you when I gave you the client.”
“Was that so I’d be happy and maybe go back to your place tonight?” She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair with a knowing look.
The waiter approaches and I wish Bella had just let me order us takeout, but after the crappy job I’ve done on day one of being her… well, whatever I am, I owe her a dinner at a five-star restaurant.
“Nah. I have a feeling you want me as bad as I want you. So let’s eat and have dessert at my place.”
She doesn’t argue but picks up her menu and blocks her face from me.
The waiter takes our order, and we share an entire meal, talking about nightmare clients and their unrealistic expectations.
* * *
“Open the door,” she pants, pressed against the wall outside my condo door. Her hands dig into the back of my slacks.
My lips are on hers while I’m trying to fit the key into the lock on the door.
“Are you struggling to find the hole?” She giggles.
I found out a new fact about her tonight. Two glasses of good red wine and she’s as happy as a client with the keys to their new home.
“I never have a problem finding the hole.” I grin at her. Her hands fiddle with my belt and she unbuttons my slacks. “Jesus, I never would have imagined you’d be so…”
“What?” She retracts her hand, and my dick twitches with an unbearable ache to get her to touch me again.
“Nothing. Please continue.” I sigh when the key fits in the hole and I open up my condo.
“What are you so surprised about?” She slides under my arm and enters my condo, her eyes inspecting every surface.
It’s an open floor plan. Kitchen into family room into dining room. A small hallway with two bedrooms and two baths. Nothing terribly impressive besides the view, except maybe that I own it free and clear.
“This is exactly what I imagined.” She twirls with her arms out. I drop my keys on the table, toe out of my shoes, and stop her mid-twirl with my arms around her middle. “It’s gorgeous, of course.”
“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, brushing her hair off her neck, nuzzling my face there.
“You’re cliché when you’re horny,” she says, but her fingers push through my
hair and my hands pull her blouse out from the waist of her pants. “I’m still mad about you trying to get me a sale.”
I murmur a “uh-huh” between casting kisses down the hollow of her neck.
“Then you make that comment in the hall. Did you think I was a prude or something?”
I glance at her face as I unbutton her blouse, one painful button at a time. “Not after you let me feast on your pussy beachside.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but her smile gives away that she likes it when I say things like that. The fact she might’ve gone to her knees outside my apartment door because she wanted me so badly is the best example of how compatible we are. I was willing to get her off in the back of the taxi.
Once her blouse is open, I splay it wide, pushing it down and off her shoulders. It floats to the floor behind her and she steps out of her heels. Her black lace bra crumbles my resolve, and my dick pops up in my boxer briefs, pleading to be played with.
Bella looks down, a smirk on her lips, and gently nudges me back until I reach the couch. My hands grab the edge as I sit, and she falls to her knees.
She blew me in the Hamptons last weekend, but I wanted to be in her so badly that I stopped it short.
From the look on her face, she’s not going to take no for an answer now, and who am I to try to change her mind? I just hope that the fact that she’s still pissed about Natasha doesn’t mean she’ll take it out on Big Carm.
My pants drop to the floor, and she gently pulls me out of my boxer briefs, sliding them down my thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, she slides her tongue up the rigid length, her hand resting at the base and pumping me slowly.
I remove my hands from the leather couch to dig into her thick strands of red, but her mouth leaves my dick with a pop and she shakes her head.
“No?” I ask, my hands mid-air.
“Hands on the couch, cowboy,” she says, a twinkle in her eye telling me she wants to be in charge tonight.
My hands fall back to the couch, my fingers sliding along the leather unable to get a good grip.
She licks, she strokes, she sucks, she plays with my balls. All with the cadence of a talented performer who’s done it a million times before, though I highly doubt that’s the case. When our eyes catch and I watch her take me into her mouth, I buck forward. She moans and groans, the vibration funneling down to my balls. I beg, curse, and grit my teeth over and over until I can no longer control myself.
“I’m gonna come.”
She smiles over my dick, her eyes glistening with hunger for me. She stays in place as my dick pulses and twitches, filling her mouth. Darkness takes over my vision for a second before I open my eyes to find her licking me clean. I pick her up under her arms, step out of my slacks, and carry her down the hall.
“I need you in my bed—now.”
I’m not sure I want her to ever leave.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bella
“I’ve got the s’mores stuff.” Annie comes down to the beach with a tray full of graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate.
“Yum!” Mae grabs a metal stick and slides a marshmallow on it before sitting in the chair next to me. The marshmallow ignites when she sticks it in the fire.
“You’re supposed to hold it above the fire, not in,” Dom says, his legs open, a beer bottle dangling from his fingertips. He’s been staring silently at the bonfire most of the night.
“How nice of you to join us for once,” Mae says. “What would I have done without you being here to lend your advice?”
Enzo can’t fight his grin, glancing at his brother to see what he’ll come back with.
Meanwhile, Carm is next to me, purposely finding reasons to get closer. The only one who knows about us is Dom, as far as I know. Of course, I assume Enzo might have an inkling. Hell, Evie cornered me this morning when she almost walked in on Carm kissing me good morning. It’s just a matter of time before they all know, but for some reason, I feel like if we tell other people and are open about it, it’ll put pressure on what’s happening between us.
“We need more wood.” Enzo throws the last of the logs into the fire. “I saw some dry wood down the way on my run this morning, but I don’t think I can carry it all myself.” He sets his beer in the sand and places his hand in his palm.
All three brothers pound their fists and Annie rolls her eyes.
“What’s going on?” Evie asks.
“Oh, they settle everything with a game of rock, paper, scissors.” Annie takes her perfectly-done marshmallow and slides it onto her already-prepared graham cracker and chocolate.
Enzo shoots paper.
Carm shoots rock.
Dom shoots rock.
“Annie!” Enzo looks at her with wide eyes.
She bites into her s’more, chocolate gathering at the corner of her lips. “What’s up?”
“I won!”
She glances at the brothers, who all nod and look as if someone sucker-punched them. “Really?”
“Babe,” Enzo says.
“He did,” Carm admits begrudgingly.
“What am I missing?” Evie nibbles on a piece of chocolate.
“Enzo always loses,” Dom says.
“Not always,” Enzo argues.
“Enough that it’s this exciting when you win?” Evie’s smile teases her lips.
“He’s been on a bad streak, that’s all,” Annie sticks up for her man.
Enzo bites a piece of her s’more and tackles Annie to the ground.
“That’s mine,” she says with a laugh.
“I’ll share.”
And then they’re making out and the s’more ends up in the sand, Enzo’s knee between Annie’s legs.
“This is getting awkward,” Mae says.
“Let’s go, Dom.” Carm stands and brushes the sand off his delectable ass.
“You should go too. Brother bonding,” Annie whispers.
Enzo rolls off her with a groan.
After the guys leave, all of the girls’ heads turn to look at me.
“Can I have a stick?” I ask, but no one hands me one.
Evie picks up a metal stick and puts a marshmallow on it for me. I hold my hand out for it, but she purposely keeps it away.
“Talk,” she says.
“What?”
“Tell us why you and Carm are doing the horizontal mambo but still trying to act like you hate each other.” Leave it to Evie to call me out on my shit.
“We’re not. No. What are you guys smoking?” I stretch my arm past Mae to Evie, but she holds the stick farther from my grasp.
“Come on. We’re all on your side,” Evie continues to pry.
“I get it. I wasn’t a huge Enzo fan at first either, but these Mancini boys are hard to resist.” Annie smiles like the lovesick woman she is. “Carm is a good guy underneath the multiple layers of ego.”
I stop trying to get the metal stick thing and wrap my arms around my legs, staring into the fire. Evie, I can trust. Annie and Mae seem cool, but I don’t know for sure. Evie’s been spending a lot of time with Mae. If she can trust Mae, I should be able to too, I guess.
“Fine. We’re sleeping together.” I sigh, waiting for the onslaught of questions I know are coming.
“Fuck buddies?” Mae asks, no judgment in her tone.
“Not really. We’re not classifying it.”
All of their perfectly arched eyebrows rise.
“So you’re pretending there’s nothing going on, but sleeping together behind closed doors? And you don’t go out at all together?” Of course Evie has to overanalyze it. She’s nursed me through heartaches before.
But I’m not her, sleeping with the Brit on the weekend and someone else during the week. She makes no apology and she shouldn’t; it’s her business. But we’re different. She could handle Carm, while I’m still unsure if I can. She probably knows that.
I shrug. “He took me to dinner last week.”
“Where?” Annie asks, prepari
ng a new s’more.
“Eleven Madison Park.” I bite my lip.
They all “ohhh” and “ahhh”, looking at one another.
“I need to up my fuck buddies. The most I’ve gotten was Thai takeout on a guy’s couch.” Evie’s gaze shifts to the girls, clearly wanting them to agree with her.
“I just told him that I didn’t want to be fuck buddies and we’re exclusive. No other partners while we’re together.”
Evie laughs, her marshmallow falling into the fire. The one she put on the stick for me. “Only you.”
Mae’s hand lands on my thigh. “I get it. Keep that wall half up.”
“I’m not. It’s not…” Then I realize deep down it is. It’s a relationship without putting a label on it. “He’s free to do what he wants if he finds someone else. He just has to tell me first.”
Annie studies her marshmallow, purposely dodging eye contact. Mae smiles politely but she’s calling bullshit, and Evie… well, Evie is staring at me, waiting for me to clue in.
“You’re dating and not getting all the benefits of it, like snuggling by the bonfire with him and spending the entire night in his bed. You should just own it.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Don’t sell yourself short. Whose idea was this? His?” Evie’s voice raises. She’s gone from concerned to pissed off. Do not pass Go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. She’s cast Carm as the villain in this situation.
“It was both of ours.” I shrug. “He doesn’t do relationships, and to be honest, if we don’t label it, there’s less of a chance that someone gets hurt in the end.”
“Why do you assume someone is going to get hurt?” Mae asks. “Maybe you’re meant for him.”
I smirk at her and she smiles, nodding. She’s single in New York. She understands most guys are Peter Pans.
“You’re holding yourself back,” Evie says. “The real you wants a relationship, not some magical cock that’s only around when the sun dips down.”
“Relax,” I say.
“You’re fooling yourself.” She shakes her head at me.