by J. E. Parker
“I’m gonna miss you sooo much, Dec.”
Bella released Declan long enough to turn and slam herself into Liam. Wide-eyed, he stumbled before righting himself. “To be so little she sure is strong,” he said.
That was the damn truth if I ever heard it. “That she is.”
“I’m gonna miss you too, Liam,” Bella said, looking up at him. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Wrapping a strand of Clara’s hair around my finger, I gave it a soft tug. “Do I get a goodbye hug, Firecracker?”
She smirked, and I knew she was about to toss a handful of sass at me. “Sure, but it’ll cost you.”
“Oh yeah? How about I buy you tacos for lunch tomorrow? Is that payment enough?”
Her eyes twinkled. “Deal.”
Throwing herself into me much like Bella had done with the boys, she wrapped her arms around my middle and rested her head against my chest.
I dipped my head and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I want you to call me as soon as you get home, bella dama.”
She nodded against me before pulling back and looking up. “I will.”
Stepping back, she slid a knuckle down Bella’s cheek and gestured for the boys to get in the car. “Alright, my little delinquents. It’s time for us to go.”
The boys climbed into the backseat of the SUV and buckled their seat belts while Clara jumped in the driver’s seat and shut the door. “Buckle your seat belt, Clara,” I said, my voice stern. “Don’t even play like that.”
With a roll of her eyes, she did as I said. “I was getting to it, Mr. Bossy Pants.”
I’ll show you bossy, I mentally replied.
Giving Bella and me one last wave, she shifted the car into reverse and backed down the driveway. Once on the street, she shifted into drive and rolled down the passenger’s side window. “Bye, Bella Boo!” She hollered. “Love you, princess!”
“Me too!” Declan screamed.
“Me three!” Liam added.
I could only describe the expression that came over my little girl’s face as magical. Throwing her arm into the air, she waved so fast her hand seemed to blur. “Love you too!”
Clara’s eyes met mine as she lifted her hand and blew me a kiss. “Bye, Pretty Boy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Wearing a smile on her face, she drove off, taking part of my heart with her.
Clara
We were running late.
Thanks to my piece of crap alarm clock deciding not to go off, I was going to be late dropping the boys off at school and getting to work. On my first frickin’ day.
Lovely, I thought. Just lovely.
“Boys!” I hollered loud enough to wake the dead. “Come on! We’re going to be late!”
Footsteps sounded and a second later my little guys appeared. Neither had brushed their hair and Declan was wearing mismatching socks.
I scrunched up my nose. “Did you two brush your teeth?”
Both nodded.
“Did you put on clean underwear?”
Again, both nodded.
I shrugged. “Good enough for me. Come on, let’s go.”
Opening the door to the apartment, I shooed both boys out. They took off running for my SUV which was parked forty feet away at the end of the breezeway. “Stay at the front of the car, guys,” I hollered after them. “Don’t you dare step a single foot off the sidewalk!”
Key in hand, I turned to lock the door behind me.
I’d just locked the deadbolt when a leathery hand gripped my bicep.
I froze.
“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice said. “If it isn’t Foxy.”
Gritting my teeth, I yanked my key out of the deadbolt and positioned it between two fingers, prepared to jab the pointed metal into Dickie’s bloodshot eyeball if the need arose.
“Get your filthy hand off me,” I hissed, jerking my arm out of his hold.
I turned and backed up, putting distance between us.
“Don’t you ever lay your disgusting hands on me again, Dickie.”
The rat-faced bastard sneered at me. “Where’s your boyfriend?” He asked, disdain lining his voice.
My face blanked, and Dickie chuckled.
“Don’t looked so stunned, Clara. I know everything that goes on around this complex. I saw him comin’ and goin’ from your apartment this weekend. Also saw that fancy black Range Rover he drives. That can only mean one thing.” He sucked on his front teeth and raked his tongue over his dry, peeling lower lip. “Seems you only spread your legs for men with money. You’re a high-class whore, ain’t you, Foxy?”
His words pissed me right off.
“Dickie, do me a favor—go fuck yourself.” Right or wrong, the simple words—vile as they may have been—made me feel powerful. Once upon a time I would’ve cowered against any man, even a weak one like Dickie.
Fortunately, that was no longer the case.
Popping open the flip-top cover on the small can of Mase I kept attached to my key chain, I slid my finger over the trigger as Dickie’s face twisted in rage. “You fucking cunt. You’re going to—”
“Is there a problem here?” A sultry voice, one which I’d never heard before, said from behind me.
Dickie’s mouth snapped shut.
From the terrified expression plastered across his face it was obvious he knew the person standing behind me.
Panicked, I looked over my shoulder.
First, I glanced toward my car to check if the boys were okay. They were. Both were sitting on the curb looking at a stack of what I knew were Pokémon cards. Then, I looked a little to the left and locked gazes with the woman—yes, woman—who’d spoken.
My first impression of her? She was pretty.
Like, knockout pretty.
With curly blonde hair that fell past her shoulders, flawless olive skin, big blue eyes, full, bow-shaped lips and a body that reminded me of a 1950s pin up model, she was smokin’ hot.
I was jealous.
Hands on her curvy hips, she asked me, “Is Dickie bothering you, sweetheart?” Her voice held the slightest accent, but I couldn’t place it.
“Yes,” I replied honestly. “It seems he doesn’t know how to keep his damn hands to himself.”
The lady, whatever her name was, made a tsking sound. “Well now that just won’t do.” She took a step toward Dickie. “Dickie, didn’t your mother teach you to never touch a lady without her permission?”
Eyes bulging, Dickie’s mouth gaped.
“Ari, listen—” he started.
“Oh no, honey,” she replied, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “That’s not how this works. You lost the chance to explain when you touched this beautiful woman without her permission”—she gave a slight pause—“and well, you know how the Kings feel about that.”
Before I could try to figure out who the Kings that she referred to were, she struck. In one swift move, she lifted her arm and slammed her elbow directly into Dickie’s nose.
Bone crunched, and I cringed.
When Dickie yelped and leaned forward, she lifted her knee and slammed it into his groin.
Dickie crumpled.
Falling to the floor on his side, he pulled his knees into his belly and began to cry like a baby.
The lady—Ari, I think her name was—then kicked Dickie’s side with the toe of her sky high, robin-egg blue stiletto. “Remember this the next time you think of laying your hands on a woman without her permission, Dickie. Because I promise that if I ever catch wind of such a thing happening again, I’ll send Capone after you. We both know what will happen then.”
She kicked Dickie one last time making him scream before turning her attention to me.
“Accept my apologies, sweetheart. I’m sorry you had to deal with him touching you, but I’m even sorrier that you had to witness me teaching him a lesson.”
I looked from her to a crying Dickie. “Don’t be sorry for the latter part. That was entertaining.”
I wish She
lby were here to see this.
She’d be so proud.
The lady smiled. “Good to know.” Scrunching up her nose, she looked toward the parking lot. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? I need to get this”—she motioned toward Dickie—“cleaned up, and well, my cleaners tend not to like an audience.”
What she meant by that, I didn’t know.
“I do. I’m late for work actually. Uh, thanks for”—I pointed at Dickie—“that.”
“No problem. If he or anyone else in this complex gives you a hard time again just drop my name. Promise they’ll leave you alone then.”
She winked.
“What is your name? I heard Dickie say Ari but—”
“Arianna Ivanova is my given name, but most just call me Ari.”
Ivanova… is that Russian?
“Mom!” Liam shouted. “I thought you said we were going to be late?”
Crap!
“I’m coming!”
I glanced over at Ari one last time, but she was paying me no mind. With her cell phone pressed to her ear, she had her back turned to me. “Donnie,” she said to whoever was on the other end of the line. “I need you and Nikolai to come to Golden Oaks apartments off 14th street. I’ve got a problem.”
Not wanting to eavesdrop and not giving a damn what happened to Dickie, I turned and headed for my boys.
Brantley
I sat behind my desk.
Fingers interlaced behind my head, I stared at the black and white clock that hung on the wall as I waited to hear the office door open and close.
Clara was an hour late which wasn’t normal for her.
I had no idea where she was, but if she didn’t show within the next five minutes, I was heading out to find her. I had no clients on the schedule for the day, but even if I did, I would’ve canceled them to search for her. Questions, followed by flashes of images I never wanted to see bounced around in my head. Among them: Is she hurt? Did she have an accident? Did she change her mind?
Picking up my phone, I scrolled through my contacts and dialed her number for the tenth time.
It went straight to voicemail. Again.
Ending the call, I dialed Hope next.
She answered on the third ring. “Hey, B,” she said, her voice chipper. In the background, I heard Evan talking gibberish to a crying Ryker. Normally that would’ve made me laugh. A hell of a lot. But right then? Not so much. “How are things going?”
I glanced at the clock again.
Another minute had passed.
“Clara isn’t here,” I replied, my voice panicked. “And her phone keeps going to voicemail.”
“What?” Hope whispered, her voice morphing with worry. “She was supposed to be there an hour ago. Clara is never late.”
“That’s why I’m calling. Do you think she—”
The front door to the office opened, interrupting me. The sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor followed. Without having to look I knew it was her. I could tell by the way the air shifted, becoming less heavy.
“She’s here,” I said, standing. “I’ll call you later, Shortcake.”
I ended the call and shoved my phone into my pocket.
Seconds later, a frazzled looking Clara strode into my office like she’d done it a million times. Her appearance put me on edge. She looked just as beautiful as ever, but her hair was in disarray, her cheeks redder than I’d ever seen them, and she was out of breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, holding her hands up in a placating gesture. “I know I’m late, but it has been one helluva morning. First my alarm clock didn’t go off, then I had this confrontation with Dickie in the breezeway.”
My spine snapped straight. “Your landlord?” I asked through gritted teeth. “The one you don’t like?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that dickhead, but it was handled. Not a big deal.”
My jaw ticked.
Don’t worry?
Not a big deal?
That wasn’t going to work for me.
“How was it handled? Do I need to go over there, Clara? Did he put his goddamn hands on you?”
If he did, I would end up in jail.
The thought of someone touching her made my blood boil.
“It’s fine,” she said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I told you it was handled.”
“Clara—”
“Oh good heavens, Brantley,” she huffed. “A lady named Ari intervened. She kicked the crap out of Dickie for being such a sleazeball and he then fell to the floor where he proceeded to cry. Seriously, it was handled.” With a roll of her eyes, she continued, “Anyway, when I got the boys to school my stupid car broke down in the parking lot. I tried to call you and ask for a ride, but my even stupider phone is dead, and unfortunately for me, I didn’t have my broomstick in the backseat”—a humorless chuckle spilled from her lips—“so I was forced to walk.”
Just when I thought my blood pressure couldn’t get any higher…
“You walked over a mile”—I pointed at the sexy-as-fuck, but uncomfortable-as-hell looking heels she wore—“in those?”
The look she shot me could melt steel. “Nooo,” she hissed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I dangled them from my fingertips as I fairy-danced barefoot down the hundred-degree sidewalk.”
I chuckled at her smartass remark.
“Though, I’m thinking burnt feet soles would be better than the pain I feel right now,” she said, cringing. “My feet and legs are killing me.”
I smirked because she didn’t realize the opportunity she’d just handed me.
Without saying a single word, I moved forward and scooped her up into my arms.
She squeaked in surprise, dropped her small purse to the floor and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Oh my God! Put me down right this second, Brantley Morgan,” she demanded. “I am way too frickin’ heavy for you to carry!”
I turned and crossed the room, carrying her with ease. “Baby, I can bench four hundred pounds and squat the same. Carrying you isn’t an issue. Trust me.”
Bending over at the waist, I laid her down flat on the black sofa butted up against the far wall of my office. I sat next to her a second later and pulled her legs into my lap. Wrapping one hand around her ankle, I used the other to pull off her heels and drop them to the floor one after the other.
“What are you—”
Clara gasped and dropped her head back when I pressed my fingertips into the soles of her aching feet.
“Oh Jesus,” she said, her leg tensing. “That feels so damn good.”
A moan slipped past her lips and every drop of blood pumping through my veins headed straight to my cock. “Yeah?” I asked, applying more pressure. “How good?”
Her head snapped up. “Good enough for me to threaten you with bodily harm if you try to stop.”
I slid my hand up her arch and dug my fingers deep into the balls of her feet while I walked my other hand up her leg and kneaded the muscle in her calf.
Eyes screwed shut, she bit her bottom lip and arched her back the slightest bit. “What are you doing, Pretty Boy?”
A steady beat pounded in my head as I watched her, memorizing her every sound and move. “I’m making you feel good, bella dama.” My voice sounded rougher than sandpaper. “Like I always will.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
Clara pushed to her elbows; her right foot nudged my hard cock.
She stilled.
“Brantley…”
I clenched my jaw tight. “Ignore it, Firecracker.”
A moment or two passed before she spoke.
“No,” she said, sitting straight and pulling her legs from my lap. “I don’t want to ignore it”—she paused—“not anymore.”
I held my breath as she climbed to her knees, hiked her skirt up over her creamy thighs and straddled my lap. Clutching my tensed shoulders with her hands, she looked down at me with lust-filled eyes. “Kiss me, Br
antley,” she whispered. “Kiss me like you ache for this as badly as I do.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Sliding my hands into her thick locks, I pulled her to me and took her mouth in a fiery, possessive kiss that made the caveman inside me roar with triumph.
Our lips clashed, our tongues met, and every goddamn part of me twitched with the need to slide my cock inside her, inch by fucking inch.
Dropping lower onto my lap, Clara slid her panty covered pussy over my cock and moaned into my mouth. I swallowed the moan and swept my tongue over hers, tasting her, memorizing her.
When she ripped her mouth from mine, I almost growled in frustration, but I held myself back. As badly as I wanted her lips back on mine, I had to remember that Clara was a rape victim. She’d been hurt in the vilest of ways, and she needed to be in control. I’d told her I wouldn’t push her into anything she didn’t want, and I meant that.
I’d die before I hurt her.
And that was a fact.
“Brantley,” she said, pressing down harder onto me. “I want more.” Tossing her head back, she worked her fingers down the front of her blouse unbuttoning it. Reaching the bottom, she grasped the hem and pulled the fabric open, revealing a white lacy bra.
Fuck. Me.
There was nothing racy or revealing about it and that made it even sexier. Clara hadn’t planned this and knowing that her desire—her need—for me was spontaneous only amped me up more.
“Please,” she begged. “Touch me.”
I dropped my hands from her hair and fisted them on her thighs. “Tell me where, beautiful. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
Her eyes filled with tears and my heart clenched.
“You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, lifting a hand and cupping her cheek. “There is nothing more important to me than making sure you feel safe.”
A tear slipped from her eye.
I kissed it away, stealing her pain.
“Every tear you cry guts me. If I could go back and save you from that bastard before he had the chance to hurt you, I would. You have to believe that, Clara.”
“I do,” she said without faltering, “and that’s why I want this with you… Only you.”