Playboy in a Suit (Cockiest Suits Book 2)

by Alex Wolf

  “Just some contractions. We’ve already called the doctor. Could be false labor, so we’re monitoring her.”

  My heart jumps to my throat. I could be a father soon.

  I go over and see if there’s anything I can do but they all shoo me away, telling me to make sure the hospital bag is by the door and ready to go in case we end up taking her in.

  Eventually, Weston comes to my apartment when he doesn’t find Brooke upstairs waiting for him. He calls me pussy whipped, but he’s just as bad as me. It’s the kryptonite pussy. I don’t even look at other women these days. None of them hold a candle to April, the soon-to-be mother of my child. I’ve fallen in love with her.

  I haven’t told her those three little words that keep getting caught in my throat. The timing never seems right, and I can’t seem to get her alone for long these days. Everyone loves her and always wants to be around her. I’m glad they all adore her, but I’m ready to have her to myself again.

  I don’t know if that day will ever come now because Brooke yells for me to call for the car. It’s really happening. I’m going to be a dad.

  Holy fucking shitcake.

  Our party makes it to the hospital and only myself and Brooke are allowed in with her. Weston doesn’t seem to mind. I wouldn’t either. The whole birthing scene isn’t really his thing. Brooke’s bursting to have a baby now. She’s got the fever now that she’s been spending so much time with April. It makes me grin, knowing I can give Weston a bunch of shit about it.

  April’s contractions are coming minutes apart and there isn’t time to give her an epidural.

  She squeezes my hand so goddamn tight I may leave with broken fingers.

  Brooke is being her cheerleader, wiping her brow and feeding her ice chips as needed. All I can do is stand here in a stupor as the shock that I’m about to meet my child settles in.

  As I stare at April, laying there in so much pain but determined to be brave, the love I feel for her hits me square in the chest.

  Everything is happening so fast.

  The doctor tells her to push but something is wrong, and the baby isn’t moving like they’d hope. Fear grips me tight as the doctor barks orders and Brooke is ordered from the room.

  They need to take April back for an emergency C-section. The cord is wrapped around the baby’s neck and they have to move now.

  April squeezes my hand. Her grip is weaker than before. Leaning down to her I brush my lips over hers, hoping she feels the love I have for her.

  A nurse escorts me to a surgical prep room where I scrub down and wait to go into the room with April to witness the birth of my child. I’m terrified and nervous.

  They keep saying everything is okay, but the way they’re scrambling around. Fucking hell. What if I lose one of them, or both of them? I have to be strong. It’s my job. I’m the goddamn leader of our family.

  I shake my head to rid myself of any insecurity. April needs to know that I’m a man who will be there no matter what. I have to be an oak.

  When I get into the room April is on a table with a curtain separating her chest and stomach.

  I’m positioned behind the top of her head, where I’m able to talk to her and hold her hand.

  She grits her teeth and smiles at me just as beautiful as ever but even more so now. Seeing what she’s going through to bring my son into this world has guilt slamming into me. Making me feel like an utter tool for not telling her that I love her. There are no perfect moments. There is no such thing as perfect timing, there’s only life and the moments we live in as we experience them. My timing may be terrible, but we aren’t about perfect timing. The way we met can testify to that.

  Looking into her eyes as she stares at me full of hope and determination I tell her what I have been too scared to admit. Because saying the words aloud makes them real. They aren’t words I say lightly.

  “Brodie, I’m scared.”

  I take her hand and lean down to her ear. “Listen to me. You’re a warrior. A goddess. You are strong and you’re a mother. We can do this together. I’ve got your back. There’s nothing to be afraid of, because I will never let anything happen to you. I love you. And as soon as I get you two home, I’m marrying you.”

  Tears stream down her face. Before she can say anything the sound of our son crying fills the air. Happy tears fill my eyes the second I lay eyes on him. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  Once he’s been weighed and taken care of, I don’t leave his side while they take April back to sew her up. My eyes don’t leave his body. Not for a second. He’s my responsibility. Everyone stares at us through the glass. I give everybody a thumbs up.

  Finally, they take us to a room and everyone spills in. It’s fine for now. They all want to see my boy. But once April is here, I’m chasing them all away. He needs alone time with his mom.

  Maxwell sits with Weston and Brooke along with Jenny. My brother’s face lights up when he sees his nephew up close for the first time. I knew he was a softy for kids. Just doesn’t know it yet. I can tell he wants to hold him, but nobody is touching him until April has held him.

  Jaxson comes rushing down the hall with some woman following closely behind him. “Who’s that?” Brooke questions Weston.

  Weston turns to her and smirks. “His client.”

  I don’t even want to know. The nurse comes in and takes my boy to test his hearing and do some other things. She has to practically pry him out of my arms.

  A little while later they bring Charlie back and roll April into the room. I shoo everyone away, promising them they can come back in a bit.

  I watch her as she sleeps.

  A short while later she wakes up asking to see Charlie.

  Charlie. My son.

  We decided to name him after my father.

  “Was I dreaming, or did you ask me to marry you as our son was being born?” She smiles lazily at me, and she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

  “Not a dream.” I take her hand in mine while she clutches our naked son to her bare chest. “I promise to always love and cherish you. So, I will ask you again. Will you marry me?”

  “Come here.” She uses all her strength to pull me closer.

  I lean down with her hand in mine against her heart, our son on the other side of her chest.

  She smiles. “Yes, I will marry you.”

  Preview Devil is a Suit

  I’m a devil in a suit.

  I don’t play nice.

  It’s not my style.

  I’m the best attorney in Dallas and I have a reputation to maintain.

  If opposing counsel smells weakness, they walk all over you.

  Not on my watch.

  Life was good until I met her—Brooke. I had more money than I could ever spend. More power than one man should possess. People respect me and it’s for a reason. I demand it.

  Brooke’s nothing but another encounter.

  She’ll end up beneath me. They all do. I’ll keep it casual. Nothing more.

  I don’t do relationships. I don’t do love. It’s counterproductive to the lifestyle I lead.

  But, no matter how hard I fight it, I want more. Brooke doesn’t take any sh*t and she gives it back twice as hard. She turns me on in ways that can’t be explained with her tight body and snarky mouth.

  I’ll take whatever I want from her and then some.

  Because I’m Weston Hunter, Attorney at Law.

  Brooke

  If ever there was a day for some bullshit, this one takes the cake.

  I throw up my hand in frustration. “Oh, come on!”

  Some jerk just hopped in the cab I was waiting for. His dark eyes meet mine through the window as a cocky grin spreads across his face. Rubbing his chin, he says something to the driver.

  Asshole.

  I’m tired after my flight, and all I really want to do is get home and crawl into bed. My one-bedroom studio apartment is my sanctuary. God, how I’ve missed the comfort of living on
my own after spending Christmas with my folks and our extended family in Vermont.

  My Aunt Susan and her divorce was all everyone wanted to talk about. Depressing is what it was.

  I look down the line of cars hoping another cab is mixed in there somewhere. Traveling during peak holiday season is a real bitch and right now so am I. I could’ve called Misty to pick me up, but she’s perpetually late for everything.

  My flight was terrible. I was seated next to an overweight man who kept sniffling and blowing his nose, coupled with excessive coughing. Every time he went through the motions he elbowed my right tit. I probably have a bruise, and the last thing I need is to get sick with the caseload I know is sure to be waiting for me on my desk when I return to work. I would’ve asked to switch seats, but the plane was full.

  When I pull out my cellphone to get an Uber, a deep voice calls out to me. “Wanna share?”

  His tone vibrates through me, and he smirks when I look up from my purse.

  My first inclination is to flip him the bird, but I want to get home more than I want to tell him to shove his head up his ass. “Oh, gee. Thanks.” I roll my eyes as I tug my luggage behind me.

  The cabbie hops out, takes my belongings, and places them in the trunk.

  The back passenger door hangs open, held by the cab thief and his charming grin he seems to wear with pride.

  I stop by the door, waiting for him to move out of the way so I can get in. His gaze travels up the length of my legs, not stopping until our eyes meet when I slide into the seat next to him.

  The first thing I notice about him is a small dimple in his left cheek, next to his well-groomed beard.

  “You’re welcome.”

  I scoff, unable to stop the shocked smile turning up on my face. “I think what you mean to say is, ‘sorry I jacked your cab.’”

  He holds out his hand expecting me to shake it. “Weston.”

  I accept it to be nice. His grip is firm and swallows mine. He’s definitely muscular, but not bodybuilder huge.

  “Nice name for an asshole.” My tone is half-joking as I release his hand.

  The annoyingly attractive man’s jaw ticks as he loosens his tie. I suck in a breath as the intoxicating scent of his cologne invades my senses. It’s a smell that I can only describe as pure male—woodsy and natural.

  His tailored suit tells me he comes from money. The gray jacket hugs his biceps. I spot a hint of a tattoo under the collar of his shirt and I can’t help but wonder what it looks like.

  The cabbie closes his door and turns to me. “Where to?”

  “Village apartments. North side.”

  The man nods and pulls into the traffic leaving DFW.

  The world’s most annoying ringtone sounds from Weston’s pocket, and he flashes me an apologetic smile as I scrunch my nose at the whistling sound. My temples throb in warning of a headache. I’m sleep deprived.

  He pulls his phone out, texting furiously.

  I lean my head against the window, anxious to get home and fall face-first into my bed.

  I don’t know what I was thinking flying home the day before New Year’s Eve.

  My cellphone chirps from inside my purse.

  Pulling it out I see I have a text from my mom.

  Mom: Did you make it home safe? I worry about you traveling alone. Should have come with you and caught up with the girls.

  Ugh. I love my mother, but I’m glad she didn’t. My mother thinks my friends are her friends.

  Brooke: I’m alive. Tired. Call you soon.

  “Boyfriend?” Weston, the cab thief, stares at me when I shoot a glare in his direction.

  His breath tickles my ear as he leans in, invading my personal space.

  “None of your business.” I hit send and stick my phone back in my purse.

  “So, he dumped you.” He chuckles to himself, clearly having much more fun with this situation than I am. His eyes roam up and down my body once more, then his eyebrows raise. “Makes sense.”

  This prick.

  “I’m glad you had a moment of human decency back there, allowing me to ride in my cab, but I’m not in a chatty mood. I want to go home, take a nice hot bath, listen to an audio book, and enjoy a glass of wine.”

  “I prefer whiskey, but I’ll settle for the wine if it’s a good year. We could help get you over this man that stole your heart and left you so bitter.” He has the audacity to wink at me and my traitorous body absolutely takes notice. The man is attractive and exudes confidence.

  The way he stares at me seems to heat the cab up twenty degrees, and it’s not from the air blowing out the vents. Everyone thinks Texas is hot year-round. But in the winter things can get chilly.

  “Wow. I mean, that’s some offer right there.” I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t make bad offers.”

  I close my eyes and count to three, trying to ignore my attraction to the raven-haired hottie who knows how to wear a suit and press my buttons. My eyes meet his again and what a mistake that is. His eyes are like dark pools threatening to drown me. “Jesus, you’re full of yourself.”

  “You can be full of me too, if you play your cards right.” He smirks.

  I look out the window, because I’m afraid he just made me blush, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “Jesus.” I shake my head and realize I’m biting my lip.

  “Just making conversation. Passing the time.” He whistles and looks off out the window.

  “Right. Do you normally have women falling at your feet to worship you when you turn on your charm? Your game needs work.”

  “Usually on their knees for other endeavors but worshiping me sounds nice too.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Never said I wasn’t.” He grins.

  The cab rolls to a halt in front of a giant high-rise building. This must be the asshole’s stop.

  “I’d love to continue this conversation, but this is me.” He flashes me a panty-melting grin as he pulls a money clip from an interior pocket of his jacket and slips the driver a few bills. “Keep whatever’s left over after you drive her home.”

  Part of me wants to smack the shit out of him. I know the type. Act like assholes, then play the victim. If he wasn’t so damn hot while he did it, I might’ve.

  Ugh.

  Men.

  Men suck.

  Just ask my Aunt Susan whose ex-husband ran off with his trainer.

  Before I can offer a thank you, he’s out of the car and the cab pulls away.

  Weston

  Pounding my fist against the punching bag, I can’t get the woman I shared a cab with out of my mind. Her snarky attitude had me wanting to shove my cock in her mouth. I should have known by her designer handbag and three-inch heels she’d be a snob who thinks she’s hot shit. Who knows? No strings attached rough sex might’ve gotten that stick out of her ass. I could’ve replaced it with something much better.

  I smile at my thoughts.

  I admit taking her cab was a dick move, but my driver was stuck in traffic, and I had a late dinner meeting. It wasn’t personal. But, my mother did raise me to be a gentleman and this is the south, so I shared the cab and paid for her ride home.

  Getting pussy has never been a problem. Hell, I could’ve fucked my client’s wife before I flew back home yesterday. I could’ve handled our meeting by video conference, but Mr. Pike insisted the meeting take place in person. He couldn’t be bothered to fly back to Texas while vacationing.

  Fucking clients.

  I shouldn’t complain really. He brings in a shit ton of billable hours for the firm. The only problem with a man like Mr. Pike is he has too much money to burn. Thinks he owns everyone and doesn’t let you forget that you need him. Expects me to drop my life to tackle any legal problem that falls in his lap because he’s been with my firm, The Hunter Group, since the beginning.

  And he needs attention all the time because he’s an asshole who can’t keep his cock to himself. Neither can his wife by the cou
nt of how many times her hands found their way to my ass during my visit. Somehow, I’ve managed to settle every sexual harassment case against him outside the courtroom. You’d think the bastard would learn by now with the millions he’s shelled out for my services and for the silence of his accusers.

  He hasn’t though, and it’s rich pieces of shit like Pike that keep the world turning.

  He’s an associate of my father. A real power player who has his hands in a bit of everything. The man has gone through more assistants than I have, and that’s saying something because I’m hard to work for.

  I throw a few more punches before hitting the shower. It’s New Year’s Eve and I intend to go out, get drunk, and get laid. Three things that should be simple to accomplish.

  I need to fuck that sexy woman from the airport out of my mind. If only I could stop thinking about her long legs wrapping around me and her heels digging into my ass while I go balls-deep into her sweet little pussy. She had blue eyes with flecks of green in them and I’m pretty sure she’s a closet screamer. I can just tell.

  That’s how I imagined last night playing out in my mind, had she accepted my courteous invitation. I would’ve canceled my dinner meeting for her. Would’ve gladly had her as a meal.

  I shrug. Her loss.

  Yet, I still can’t shake her from my mind. The chick is everywhere.

  Visions of her plump pink lips wrapping around the head of my cock have me fucking my hand as the warm water cascades over me. My fist tightening in her strawberry blonde hair as I work in and out of her smart mouth.

  Fuck me. I stroke myself harder.

  I watch her blue eyes staring up at me. She’s a hard little worker, making sure she tongues my shaft just right, trying to please me.

  I should’ve asked for her number before hopping out of the cab. I bet she would have had another sassy remark. I can imagine her pink tongue flattening against my shaft taking me to the back of her throat.

  It doesn’t take much imagination to get me off when I have good material to fantasize about.

  As I step out of the shower my phone pings with a text from my little brother.