At the end of the night, Carly comes up to me and rests her hand on my arm.
“Is everything alright?”
I shrug her off. “It’s fine. Sorry. It’s just been a long day.”
She nods and lets me go.
I head home but I can’t sleep. I’m up most of the night, walking around my place, staring at the city and wondering what I’m going to do now. My parents would have a fucking field day with this. Leo screwing up again. But this was the ultimate fuck up.
Mark calls me around nine am and tells me to come down to his office. Sure enough, there in black and white, are the documents, which confirm that I am the father.
“What the fuck am I going to do?” I whisper, sinking down in the chair.
“You need to provide parental support. Either you and Skyler come up with a number that she agrees to, and you get papers drawn up. Or you go into family court and they’ll take care of it.”
Fuck. Family court? I do not want to deal with that shit.
“My advice?” Mark asks quietly. “Come up with a decent number. Something Skyler would be foolish to turn down. Offer her that. Hopefully she agrees and you can get the paperwork done quietly. You don’t want to take this to court.” He pauses. “And offer her a lump sum now too. Tell her it’s to help with any co-pay costs, furniture, clothing, etc. Kids are expensive. She might be more likely to agree to something if you also offer to help her a bit during the pregnancy.”
“Shit!”
I gather up the papers and head for the exit.
“Thanks Mark,” I say, still in shock. I had been feeling keyed up before, but now I’m bone tired. I know that Mark is right. I should offer Skyler a good figure for monthly support and offer to help her during the pregnancy. I know she would try to hit me up for money as soon as she starts decorating a nursery and planning. I don’t have the time or energy to even think of a fair number.
Once I’m back home, I draw all the blinds in the bedroom, plunging the room into darkness.
I crawl into bed and sleep the rest of the day.
I have fitful dreams, the most vivid one being of a little boy that looks like me, who keeps following me around on tour, calling me “daddy.”
I tell him to leave me alone, but he won’t stop. The last time I see the little boy, he’s in my dressing room, sitting on my mother’s lap.
I wake up, disoriented; glad it was only a dream. It’s almost time for rehearsal, so I get up and shower. I check my phone but there’s nothing from Carly. It’s probably best. I think Carly is still trying to figure me out, and in all honesty, I don’t have the energy for her right now. I’m glad our date is still two nights away. I find myself wondering if I can keep the whole Skyler episode from Carly.
Then it strikes me that I should offer Skyler a really good number, but have the agreement say that she cannot share the identity of the baby’s father with anyone. That would stop the media and press from ever finding out. If the kid wanted to know who is dad was, Skyler could tell him, or –her? – when they turned eighteen. I wouldn’t care then.
I’m almost happy at this genius idea of mine. I decide that I’m going to call my lawyer first thing in the morning to see if I can get a proposal worked out. I have to offer something Skyler can’t refuse. Something that will make her keep her mouth shut. Maybe I can agree to give her extra money at the holidays so the kid can have a really good Christmas. Shit. What’s the point of having Leo Nash as your dad if you can’t get a ton of cool shit at Christmas?
My mood has improved by the time I get to rehearsal, and the first thing I do is go over to Carly and apologize for being MIA all day. I confess that I couldn’t sleep last night (no reason to tell her why) and that I ended up sleeping most of the day away.
All true.
By the time I leave rehearsal, things seem fine with Carly, and I’m already making a mental note of the details I want to include in my proposal to Skyler. Once I get home, I scribble everything down on the back of a receipt. As I get into bed, I feel a pang for my old life.
Never, had I gone to bed alone so many nights in a row. Well, I always went to sleep alone, but this was the longest I had gone without sex. If I really thought about it, the idea was pretty fucking tiresome. I was horny and it had been nearly two weeks since my last screw.
Frustrated, I punch the pillow and turn on to my stomach. I think of Carly, which only makes my dick get hard, and I turn back over because it’s uncomfortable. Giving in, I reach down into my boxers and start stroking myself.
Fuck. It feels good.
I groan and close my eyes, picturing Carly’s creamy tits, and the smoothness of her thighs. It takes only minutes, before I’m panting and coming hard onto my own stomach. I yank off my t-shirt and wipe myself off before tossing it on the floor.
Feeling better, I roll over and go to sleep.
~~~
The next couple days go smoothly, and my lawyer, Ben, is impressed with my proposal ideas.
“I think this is a great offer,” he said after I shared all my ideas with him. “I’ll draw it up and then have you come in to review it. Then we can send it over to Skyler. She may get a lawyer of her own to check everything out.”
That seemed like the most I could hope for. Ben called me in the next day, and everything checked out. It included the generous monthly sum for child support, plus bonus sums at Christmas and the kid’s birthday (Ben’s idea), plus a hefty sum to help Skyler through her pregnancy. There was a non-disclosure which said Skyler could not share the identify of the father.
Ben promised to let me know the second that Skyler approved or rejected our offer.
I found myself on Saturday evening, getting ready for my date with Carly. I know it was foolish to hope, but I kept hoping that maybe tonight was the night that Carly would finally let her guard down and sleep with me. I was interested in more than just sex with Carly, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it since Carly was making me wait.
As promised, I show up at eight pm to pick Carly up. This time I go to her apartment and knock. Carly’s roommate opens the door. She is hot and I suddenly have a vision of me entangled with Carly and her friend.
I squeeze my eyes shut trying to push the thought out of my mind.
“Carly will be right out,” she squeaks.
“Thanks,” I say as she let me in. “I’m Leo.”
“Quinn.” She shakes my hand, and then giggles. “Oh my god, I’m such an embarrassment,” she says rolling her eyes.
I grin and wave it off. I forget all about it, because at that moment Carly walks into the living room.
Since meeting Carly, I’ve Googled pictures of her from her Sideroad days. She was always beautiful, don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen pictures of her with wavy hair, dressed in cowgirl boots, with country sundresses and tight jeans with button down shirts. She looked good. But nothing compares to how she looks now.
Her hair is straight and shiny down her back, and she’s dressed in a form-fitting black dress, with lacy cap sleeves and lace trim. The lace drives me wild, and something about those little cap sleeves make her look even more good-girl-gone-bad. The dress is short, and it gives me a clear view of her long legs and those thighs I love. She’s in heels, which only makes me crazier and I wonder how I’m going to keep my hands off her all night.
I’m hoping I don’t have to.
She gives me a self-conscious smile.
“You look amazing. Damn! Hot as hell, Carly.”
She giggles. “Thanks. You don’t look half bad yourself.”
I move towards her and wrap my arm around her waist. “Let’s get going,” I murmur.
She nods and gives Quinn a quick wave before leaving with me.
“So, what’s on the agenda tonight?” she asks, and I can hear the excitement in her voice.
“It’s a surprise.”
I open the door for her, and help her into the car. I can almost see up her skirt. The view is fantastic.
Th
e car whisks us down towards the seaport and I see Carly crane her neck to try to make out where we’re going.
She gives up and turns towards me. “I guess after tonight we’re not going to see much of each other,” she says sadly. We’re going into the final days of rehearsal, and then we head to Boston where we kick off.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell her. “We’re going to be on tour together.”
She makes a face. “You’ll be busy.”
“You don’t even know if you’re going to want to see me,” I remind her. I still don’t know if Carly has made her mind up about me. If she wants to take the risk of dating me. I can’t blame her. I feel a wave of guilt as I think about Skyler, but I brush the thought aside.
“I do want to see you,” she insists in a quiet voice.
The words send a thrill through me, but at the same time make me feel like a fucking sap because I’m hanging on her every word like a school boy.
Luckily, the car slows down and I realize that we’ve arrived.
I help Carly out, and watch with satisfaction as she looks around confused. We’re at a large pier, and there are a few boats docked around us.
She looks up at me with her big blue eyes. “I don’t get it.”
I guide her towards a small yacht and when she realizes where we’re heading, she gasps.
“A boat?”
“It’s actually a yacht,” I teasingly correct.
She shoots me a dirty look.
“Is it yours?”
“No. I rented it. I had to pull a few strings to dock it here.”
“A few?”
“Okay. Maybe a lot. But it was worth it.”
I help Carly on board, and our butler, Henry, greets us.
“Good evening. Welcome aboard. I’m Henry and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.”
Carly raises her eyebrows.
Henry leads us around to the deck and hands us each a glass of wine.
“Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”
He then disappears.
“Who the heck was that?” Carly asks, sipping her wine.
“Our butler.”
“Butler?” this time she can’t hide her surprise.
“Well, yeah.”
“So, is there anyone else on this ship helping us tonight?”
“Well, there’s the captain obviously. Someone has to steer this thing. And there’s Henry. And, Hal.”
“Hal?”
“Our chef.”
“We have a chef?” Carly’s eyes are as wide as saucers. It’s incredibly sexy.
“Yes. I’m not much of a cook,” I remind her.
She shakes her head disbelievingly.
We settle into two chairs on the deck and watch the Manhattan skyline as we pull away. It’s a warm night out, which is good since the movement of the yacht creates a breeze.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“No, I’m fine.” She murmurs. Carly is quieter than normal and I follow her eyes out to the water.
“What are you thinking?” I ask. I’m still so surprised by Carly. She’s different from any other woman I’ve ever met. Then again, I only stuck with the same type of women.
“My life just seems so surreal lately. It makes my head spin. I’m having a hard time keeping up with everything.”
“Do you regret coming to New York?” I can’t help but ask the question.
She’s quiet for a long moment. I don’t know why I care so much. Maybe because most of her time in New York has centered around me in one way or another. I’m a fucking girl for suddenly asking these questions.
“Regret isn’t the right word,” she says thoughtfully. “I’m still mourning the life I left in Nashville. Maybe I was too rash. Maybe I shouldn’t have run away from everything, but all I could think about was getting the hell out of there and getting away from Walker.”
I grind my teeth when I think about what that fucker did to Carly.
“I’ve been trying to adjust to this new life. It was already so much before you came along. A new city, new clothes, a new, single me.”
She sighs and she suddenly seems so much older than twenty-five.
She looks over at me and her bright eyes are filled with emotion.
“But I don’t regret meeting you. I’m still just trying to adjust to everything.” She gestures around the yacht.
“Maybe the yacht was too much,” I say, suddenly doubting my attempted skills at romance.
“No, it’s lovely. Really. Lovely isn’t even the right word. It’s amazing.”
The spell is broken because Henry appears and tells us dinner is ready. We make our way inside towards the small dining room on the upper level. There is one table set up next to sweeping windows, and two candles are lit.
We sit down and Henry brings us fresh bread, shrimp cocktail, and a shredded green apple, cheese and chive salad.
We eat quietly, and Carly brings up the topic before I can.
“So, what will we become when we’re on tour?” she asks.
I want to have this conversation and I don’t. What I want is to have all of Carly and that means this time with her, along with her body. There’s no polite way to say that I want to be fucking her too, so I need to choose my words carefully.
“I guess we need to decide that. I like being with you, and I’m ready to take this to the next level whenever you are.”
There. That sounded better than saying I want to get in her pants.
Carly chews her food and then looks up at me. “You want sex,” she says flatly.
Christ.
“Well, when you put it like that, you make me sound like a pig. What I want is all of you. I want this time with you, but I want to be intimate with you too.”
She gives me a small grin. “You’re a guy, I guess I can’t blame you.”
“If you only knew,” I mutter under my breath.
Her eyes cloud over and I wonder if she’s thinking about all the other women I’ve screwed. Shit. That’s the last thing I want her thinking about on this romantic date I’ve tried to arrange.
Henry appears to refill our glasses and the conversation gets lighter from there. We don’t talk any more about what we “are” and that’s fine with me, because those talks about labels are exhaustive and bullshit.
After dinner, I take Carly on a full tour of the yacht. I have the yacht until one and it’s only a little after nine. Still plenty of time incase Carly has changed her rules.
I save the bedroom for last; mostly because it’s located on the top level. I push open the two double doors that lead to the master bedroom.
“Whoa,” she breathes, stepping inside. For a small yacht, the room is pretty impressive. It boasts nearly a dozen windows, all of which have drawn curtains to reveal the city skyline. The floor is done in sleek, dark wood boards, and the sumptuous bed sits behind a large wooden chest that matches the flooring. The accents are all in white, which contrasts nicely with the wooden floor, and a long couch runs along the east wall.
I pull Carly to the bed and she doesn’t resist. I kiss her softly at first, and my dick hardens when she kisses me back urgently. I don’t waste any time, and I push her down onto the bed before crawling on top of her.
“Leo!” she gasps, but she encircles her arms around me, and pulls me down to her. I lay the length of my body across her, running my hands over her smooth legs, as I kiss her back, gently hiking her dress further up her thighs.
Carly is breathing hard, but she reaches down for my hands, and brings them back up. She surprises me by placing them on her tits. I take that as a go ahead and I grope her through her dress, groaning loudly as I feel her tits through the thin material. Carly moans in response, and I can tell she loves how it feels. I push my erection between her thighs and she cries out as I rub her in just the right spot.
Hoping I don’t regret later, I yank my shirt over my head and lower myself back onto her slender body.
Carly
&n
bsp; I know I shouldn’t be giving in as much as I am right now but I can’t help it. Leo is damn sexy, and he’s completely wooed me with this ridiculous yacht and the romantic dinner.
I run my hands along the bare of his back, lightly dragging my nails on his skin, and making him shiver in response. I smile to myself. I like the feeling of power I have over Leo in moments like this. I know how badly he wants to get in my pants, and while I’m not ready to give in tonight, I think it’s okay for us to fool around a little.
I gasp again as Leo slides his tongue along the base of my throat, the sensation incredibly erotic. My insides are throbbing and I want Leo far more than I ever dreamed. It’s taking every ounce of willpower to not sleep with him on this beautiful bed.
His hands slide back down to the hem of my dress, and this time I don’t stop him. He hikes up my dress until I can feel the cool air against my black thong. He looks down and groans loudly, his hands gliding over my sex.
I moan loudly, arching my back and Leo takes the opportunity to pull my dress up higher. I sit up a bit, and Leo understands, pulling the dress over my head and tossing it in a heap on the floor.
I’m laying beneath Leo in only my lace thong and strapless bra. I feel incredibly exposed, but sexier than I’ve felt in a long time. Sexier than I ever felt with Walker, if I’m being truthful.
“Carly,” he says, his words fervently as his hands explore my body. I’m panting hard now, and his hands are everywhere, moving across my abdomen, sliding across my cleavage, and wrapping around my waist. It doesn’t help that Leo is thrusting his massive erection just against my nub, and I’m surprised to feel the familiar building of an orgasm. I’m more aroused than I imagined.
“Oh god, Leo,” I moan, too aroused to be embarrassed, “don’t stop.”
“What?” he asks surprised.
He looks down at me, and then realizes as if had forgotten, where he had been rubbing against me.
“That’s right, Carly,” he murmurs, pushing against me again, and this time his hand moving down to my sex, too. “Let me make you feel good.”
“It just feels so good,” I pant, and he keeps stroking me with his massive length, quickening his speed, as he stretches his hands up to my hair and cradles my head.
Forbidden Ballad - Rock My World Page 9