A Bad Bit Nice
Page 17
Em leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. She sighed deeply. “I leave tomorrow for business again. I won’t be back for two weeks.”
Mick squeezed her thigh. “I figured you’d be leaving pretty soon. Boston, this time?”
“How’d you know?”
“Remember, Rory’s my best friend. We keep tabs on one another; look after the houses, water plants, et cetera.”
“Rory doesn’t seem like the type to have houseplants.”
“No, even his silk plants are dead. It’s amazing really.”
“And yet you take the time to water dead silk plants? You’re a good friend.” She laughed, and then sighed. “I’m going to miss you, Michael.”
“You’ll be back in two weeks, right? That’s not so long, I guess.”
She kissed his jaw and ran her nose behind his ear. He still smelled like Mick, faintly of tobacco and mint, but now there was an additional musky note of sex.
Em shifted to straddle him in the kitchen chair. Mick’s hands wandered beneath the shirt that she was wearing to discover that she was naked under it. He groaned as his hands roamed over her bare ass, her wet heat that pressed into his groin. He unbuttoned the shirt and slipped a hand inside to stroke her breast. Em practically purred with pleasure as he teased her nipple to tautness.
He kissed her deeply and she wiggled against him. Em pressed her bare body to his chest, her arms thrown around his shoulders, kissing his neck. She lifted up, still straddling him, pulled his now hard cock out of his gym pants, and slowly lowered herself on him, taking him inside her completely. When she engulfed him to his hilt, she rocked gently on his lap, eyes locked on his.
Em loved the intimacy of this position, their torsos pressed against each other with the hair on Mick’s chest providing a delightful friction against her own smooth breasts, his strong arms wrapped around her back and holding her against him, her feet wrapped around the legs of the chair to counterbalance his deep strokes.
Mick rested his forehead against the curve between her neck and shoulder, his teeth biting his soft lower lip in pleasure. Em groaned and her head dropped back, giving Mick access to her soft throat. His soft kisses on the sensitive flesh of her neck soon spawned the beginnings of her orgasm. Mick moved his hands to her hips so he could control her motions, plunging into her with deep, hard thrusts.
They were so consumed with each other and their pleasure that they didn’t hear the front door open.
“Oi, Mick, before you get caught up short here are the…”
Em shrieked and leapt off of Mick’s lap, running into the bedroom.
“Well, I guess you took care of things, right?” Rory smirked.
“Jesus Christ, Rory. You need to knock!”
“Oi, put that thing away. I don’t need to see that cock of yours.”
Mick adjusted himself as he stood and glared at Rory. “Did ya need somethin’, b’y?”
“No, I don’t need anything,” Rory said as he slammed a box of condoms on the countertop. “I saw enough to know you’re riding bareback. I know it’s been a long time, but be smart, Mick.”
Mick was suddenly furious. “Get outta my sight before I give ya a crack, Rory!”
Rory’s jaw worked. He started to say something but thought better of it. He walked to the front door and turned to Mick. “Be. Smart.” he said, and then yelled, “Nice tat, Em. Now I see why you never wear skirts on site,” and went out the door, slamming it behind him.
“You know he means well.” Em leaned against the wall to the kitchen, pulling Mick’s shirt closed around her body.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sure it’s hard for him, too, even though he’s the one that’s been bugging me for years to get back out there.”
Em moved to Mick and put her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest to hear the thump of his heart. She stretched up on her toes and kissed his chin. Mick gazed down at her and stroked her hair. Then he scooped her up and took her back into the bedroom.
*****
Em traced the script lettering over Mick’s heart with her finger. She knew he wasn’t asleep, but when a question rumbled out, it still caught her by surprise, making her startle a bit.
Mick gave out a sleepy chuckle. “You’re a bit jumpy, Em. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, giving her a soft kiss on her hair.
Mick felt Em smile against his chest. “I wasn’t expecting you to talk,” she said quietly, and then fell silent again.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Em finished tracing the last name before she spoke. “I was just thinking about this,” she said, running a flat palm over the names she’d just traced and down the portrait that decorated his ribcage. “It’s beautiful, both the work itself and the meaning behind it. I...hope you didn’t mind me touching it.”
“You’ve had your hands all over my body for the past,” Mick checked his watch, “48 hours, Em.”
“You know what I mean, Mick. I had wondered all these months why you pressed your chest or ribcage sometimes. I was dying of curiosity,” Em admitted with a soft laugh.
Mick sighed. “I don’t even realize I’m doing it. Rory has mentioned it before. Whenever I think about them, or something reminds me of them, I guess I touch it.”
Em nodded. “It’s sweet.”
“You don’t mind that my dead wife’s picture is permanently on my body?”
His question made Em sit up in the bed and give him a hard look. “Why on Earth would I mind, Mick?”
He shrugged. “People are funny, you know? I don’t know, I just thought it might make you, or anyone that I was...in this situation with, uncomfortable.”
“’This’ situation? Like naked?” Mick nodded, his face uncertain again. Em bent down and brushed a soft kiss over his lips, her bare breasts barely dusting a touch across his chest. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m honored that you bared yourself to me.”
Mick stroked the curve of Em’s hip where it sank into the bed, his thumb playing across her tattoo-decorated hip bone.
“Is that why you wouldn’t take your shirt off earlier?” she asked, thinking about that first intimate moment.
Mick thought it about it a moment. “No, not really. More that I didn’t want you to see the scars.”
Em sensed that he wasn’t going to say anything more on that particular subject. She had run her fingers over the scarring when he had been fully asleep, his back riddled and puckered beneath the veil of black ink. He had a few similar scars on his belly and thighs as well, which she’d noticed when she’d had her mouth on him a few hours ago.
Em hoped that someday soon Mick would feel comfortable enough to share all his stories with her, but for now, he had bared and shared enough.
Em stretched out along his body, pressing her own length to him, covering him in a full-body hug that sought to bring her in contact with as much of Mick’s skin as possible. Mick’s arms encircled her, one big hand coming to rest between her shoulders and the other cupping her bottom. Mick squeezed Em, resting his head on hers.
They lay there, not talking, just feeling the warmth of one another’s presence, until each drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 30
“Whaddya at, ducky? How’s the trip getting on?” Em could hear Mick’s smile through the phone.
“It’s good. The clients have been on their best behavior, the equipment has arrived, and we have our own conference room. Not bad for a client site.”
“How’s Rory? Is it weird?”
“Rory was stand-offish for a couple of days, but, you know him—once we get the client in the room, he’s the consummate professional. We had drinks last night and cleared the air, and we actually have dinner reservations in a bit.”
“I’m glad. I still haven’t talked to him, but we usually don’t talk when he’s out of town unless something dire comes up.”
“I think things are fine. He was just surprised. Apparently I thwarted your planned seduction by being
a bossy bitch?”
Mick laughed. “Something like that. Though I think we would have both combusted with sexual frustration if you hadn’t pulled that stunt.”
“Stunt? That wasn’t a stunt. It was a survival strategy.”
“I miss you. A lot. I can’t wait for you to get home.”
“I can’t either. And I’m not out for five weeks after, so you’ll have plenty of time to get sick of me. Things are dead between Thanksgiving and the new year, so we’re going to use that time to do paperwork and wrap up stuff that’s finished and then prep for projects that are starting in January.”
“So you’ll be here for Thanksgiving?” Mick asked.
“This year I will be. I usually go with Ashley to her insane family’s house, but this year they’re all terrorizing the high seas on a cruise. I didn’t know what my work schedule was going to be like, so I passed on that crazy experience.”
“They’re a handful, I take it?”
“There are seven of them and they’re all like Ashley, every single one of them. All her brothers and her dad are in some sort of law enforcement or the military. If they get hijacked by pirates, the pirates will pay us a ransom to take them back.” She laughed. “Are you going to be around for Thanksgiving?”
“Rory and I alternate going to up to Boston and his folks coming down here. This year’s my year to host,” explained Mick. “I would love for you to be there,” he added quietly.
“I don’t know, Mick. It sounds like a family thing.”
“Em, please come. You know,” Mick said, trying to lessen the tension that suddenly reared up in their conversation, “Rory will kick my arse if he finds out that you’re alone on Thanksgiving. He may be smaller than I am, but he fights dirty.”
Em laughed. “Okay, okay. You’ve convinced me. But I’m bringing desserts.”
“Okay, that’s a deal. I’m looking forward to it!” Mick laughed. “I’ll let you go get dinner, love. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
“See you soon, sugar.”
With a big grin, Em pulled out a blouse to change into for dinner. Mick had gotten into the habit of calling back later in the evening, talking dirty and getting her riled up before bed. Last night he’d sent a delicious picture of his toned stomach with his jeans unbuttoned, showing his hairy lower belly and just a peek of the head of his erect cock. It wasn’t dirty-dirty, but just a little bit naughty. Maybe she should send him a picture for inspiration for tonight’s phone call. She knew he liked the fussy blouses she always wore. Maybe a glimpse of a nipple? Her phone rang and Em answered with a laugh.
“I know you’re getting impatient but this is a little silly. It’s all of been five minutes!”
“Hello Em. It’s been a bit longer than five minutes, dear.” Tripp managed to sound smarmy even over the telephone.
“Tripp,” she said flatly. “What on Earth do you want?”
“I want you back, both in the office and in my bed.”
“Whu..what?”
“You heard me, Em. I want you back.”
“What?”
“I. Want. You. Back.” Tripp spoke slowly, like she was a child that couldn’t comprehend the words he was saying. “You’ve made your point, working with that one criminal and fucking the other. Come back to me.”
“Who I work or sleep with is none of your concern, Tripp, and furthermore, you’re crazy if you think I’m having anything to do with you or your father’s firm. Goodbye, Tripp. Stop calling me.”
Em knew that the reminder that Tripp worked for his father would do nothing but piss him off, but she didn’t care a bit. He’d been calling her several times a day since the scene at the restaurant. First, he’d merely asked her to come back to the firm, but more recently he’d begun insisting they get back together. What about Bailey? She was pregnant! Were they even still together? The whole situation was just bizarre.
Em hadn’t told Mick or Rory about the phone calls, but she was reconsidering that decision now. There was something very off about this whole Tripp situation.
She decided that she’d call Bailey tomorrow. She missed her friend, and she wanted to make sure that she was safe. She’d ask Bailey about Tripp and hopefully determine what the hell was going on with him, and then she would tell Rory about Tripp’s phone calls. She was definitely going to wait to tell Mick until after she got back so she could distract him with sex to keep him from killing her assclown of an ex-boyfriend.
Her plan of action made, she aimed her phone down her cleavage, snapped a picture, sent it to Mick, and then finished dressing for dinner.
*****
Em was uneasy. Something was definitely amiss with Bailey.
She’d seemed thrilled to speak with Em, going as far as to make a lunch date for the following week when Em was back in town. She updated Em about the people at the Holbrook Firm, and Em talked excitedly about working with Rory at Tara Security Systems.
What, or rather who, Bailey didn’t mention was Tripp, which worried Em. Bailey talked about the pregnancy and Tripp’s father, Ed, and how excited he was to be a grandfather, but she didn’t mention Tripp at all.
When Em finally broached the subject, Bailey merely said, “Oh, Tripp is Tripp. You know how he is.”
Em definitely knew how he was, which was unfortunate for Bailey.
Em tried a different tack. She had asked about work, trying to get a feel for what the office environment was like now. Bailey didn’t mention Tripp specifically, but from the things that she said, or didn’t say, Em knew that her former department was falling apart now that Em wasn’t there to hold it together for Tripp. She tried to probe for more information, but Bailey kept changing the subject. Oh well.
Em reiterated that Bailey could and most definitely should call her if she needed anything at all, but Bailey waved off her offers. Em told her friend goodbye, hanging up with a very uneasy feeling in her gut.
She definitely needed to tell Rory what was going on.
*****
“What the actual fuck?!” Rory almost yelled, but he was able to rein it in. “How long has this shite been harassing you?”
“Since he and Mick had their little run-in,” Em admitted with a cringe.
“And he’s been escalating his threats?”
“He hasn’t actually threatened me, per se, but he makes me feel threatened, you know?”
“Yeah, I know, love.” Rory drummed his fingers on the conference table. “Mick is going to lose his mind.” He ran his hand over his face. “I want you to keep track of every time he contacts you, Em. If we can prove a pattern of harassment, you can get a restraining order against him.”
“Hello, have you met me? I’m a security analyst, Rory. I know how these things work.” Em took a deep breath.
Em and Rory talked some more, deciding what Em’s next steps would be. When their plan was final, Rory said, “Em, why don’t you take Monday off? Heavens know you’ve earned it. Spend it with your man; get your home set up. You don’t need to work as much as you do. This isn’t the Holbrook Firm, where billable hours are king, you know? What’s the good of pulling down the salary I pay you if you can’t enjoy it, right?”
Em got ready to protest, but Rory shot her a look that brooked no argument.
“Thanks, Rory. I appreciate it.”
“No, Em, this is the least I can do. I really can’t tell you how pleased I am that this is working out.”
Em acknowledged what was left unsaid with a smile.
Chapter 31
“As soon as I get a chance, I am so getting one of these.”
Em lounged in the huge tub in Mick’s bathroom. Her own bathroom, while bright and crisp, hadn’t been updated since the Depression, and though she loved her deep claw-foot tub, this was unreal.
Mick, who had an unabashed love of baths, had redone the master bathroom immediately after he moved in. The two-person Jacuzzi tub sat in front of a leaded glass bay window. Giant Boston ferns inside and trailing trellises outsi
de obscured the bather from view.
Em wiggled her painted toes on the edge of the tub, her hand wrapped around Mick’s freshly shaved neck, fingers snaking up the back of his head.
“I like these,” he said, rubbing his own foot over her toes. She looked back at him, a big grin on her face, and smooched his cheek.
“I’d never have pegged you for a bath person,” Em said, settling back into his chest.
Mick was quiet in the way that Em had grown to recognize as his “I’m getting ready to share something with you” quiet. He kissed her shoulder and then rested his chin there.
“Baths remind me of being taken care of, feeling loved.”
Em turned her face to him, waiting to see if he was going to continue. When he didn’t, she accepted that that was all he was going to share this time. She kissed his bearded jaw and rested her forehead against his chin.
Mick glanced at the clock on the wall.
“I gotta get moving, ducky,” he said, regretfully, as he nudged Em forward.
He got out of the tub and quickly dried off while Em continued to lounge. Mick disappeared into the bedroom and grinned at Em’s pout when he returned wearing a pair of snug boxer briefs. He began drying his hair and beard, shifting his weight from foot to foot, making his ass flex and tense.
“Mick, if you flex your butt one more time, I’m going to have to get out of the tub and bite it. I can barely stand it, you look so good standing there.”
He looked at her in the bath, partially obscured by bubbles, breasts bobbing in the water, areolas winking at him. He groaned. Figures she’d have the day off and he had a last minute meeting. Her trademark blood orange and vanilla bath oil wafted through the air. Just getting a tiny whiff of the stuff made Mick hard. She had left a bottle of it with him before she went out of town and he immediately had taken full advantage of it, but had had to stop because he was in a state of permanent arousal when he smelled it.
“I never realized how much upkeep a full beard took,” Em said, her fingers trailing through the bubbles. “I like that oil you put in your beard. It smells like tobacco and vanilla and manly stuff.”