by Piper Rayne
He tells me, and I pull my checkbook from my leather jacket. My pen stops at the total amount. “The woman who was here before me… Frankie Grant? Did she hire you?”
“You know that’s privileged information. You’ll have to talk to her about that.”
I like this guy already. I double the amount of my check, thinking a retainer is a retainer to this guy.
“Here.” I tear the check out of my book and slide it to him. “I’m paying both retainer fees. If she paid you, rip up the check.”
“But—”
“But nothing. It’s money.”
“I can’t let you do that.” He looks at me from under his eyebrows.
“Listen, Frankie is a single mom, and she shouldn’t have to worry about paying her rent or stealing money from her kid’s college fund because her ex can’t get his shit together. Just take it.”
He nods and accepts the check before pulling another one from his drawer and ripping it up. “I can’t tell you anything even if you are paying the bills.”
Man, Mr. Holder is the shit. I’d hire him again if I didn’t already. “Good. I just want her to win.”
“Well, with family cases—” He’s quick to stop talking.
I stand and hold my hand out over the desk. “So you’ll be in touch?”
Holder rises to his feet and shakes my hand. “Yes. I’ll forward this on today.”
“Thanks.”
I leave his office to find Frankie waiting for me, much to my surprise. I make a follow-up appointment for the next week, then I open the door, waiting for Frankie to walk through first.
“And to what do I owe this gentlemanly behavior?” she asks.
“Because we’re both dealing with shitty things, so we’re going to commiserate together.”
“I should get home. I have to do laundry.”
I shake my head. “Your dirty panties can wait.”
“They really can’t. And can you not be so crass?”
We walk into the elevator, where I press the ground floor button and the doors shut. “I promise, you’d love this crass mouth in bed.”
She shakes her head. “Does that really work on most women?” The doors open and she walks out.
“You’d be surprised. Sometimes I don’t even have to talk at all.”
She rolls her eyes right before pushing through the circular doors. “Ew.”
Once we’re on the streets of Cliffton Heights, I figure the best idea will be to drive home and walk to the bar because I’m not going to drink and drive. “Meet me at the Velvet Bar?”
She huffs, walking toward her car.
“Come on, you need a fun night. Jolie’s with Sandy. And I promise not to ruin your only clean pair of panties.” I wink.
She huffs but giggles. “Fine. One drink.”
She slides into her car, and I straddle my bike. As I ride through the streets to park at my apartment and walk down to Velvet Bar, I wonder why I care so much about Frankie’s predicament. I could easily chalk it up to all the shit I saw as a foster kid. The physical abuse I saw not just against women, but men too. Some women use those nails like claws. At some point while growing up, I started protecting the younger kids like it was ingrained in me. Might be the only good quality that came from being passed around like a joint.
Frankie isn’t one to ever ask for help, so I’m offering before she has to ask. I swear, one of these days, playing savior is going to bite me in the ass.
Chapter Four
Frankie
* * *
After driving home and parking, I sat in my car for over ten minutes, second-guessing whether I should meet Jax or not. It’s weird that he even offered for me to meet him for a drink.
I should just go home, do laundry, and wait for Sandy to come back with Jolie. But when is the last time I went out without Jolie? And a little adult time doesn’t sound so bad—even if it’s with Jax. Maybe the two of us can find some sort of tenuous friendship. Plus, I could use a drink after hearing how much Mr. Holder’s retainer is.
It’s a quick walk over and I open the doors of the Velvet Bar. The walls are lined with red velvet, the furniture all black leather, and the place is dimly lit. After the doors close and my eyes acclimate to the darkness of the bar, I spot Jax in a booth near the back.
“One drink,” I murmur to myself while I make my way over to him.
“About time, Spark Plug. Did you rush home and shave your legs just in case you got lucky tonight?”
That friends idea goes right out the window. “Are you suggesting you’d get lucky? That I’d be the woman who breaks your resolve?” Somehow, I avoid rolling my eyes.
“My balls are chained up.”
The waitress comes by and drops off two shots.
“Shots?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yes, we’re celebrating like you already won.” Jax grins.
“Could I get a water and a martini?” I ask the waitress.
She nods, and when I turn back to the table, Jax has his shot glass in the air. “Let’s toast.”
“What are we toasting to and why are you being so nice? I’m scared.”
He chuckles. “I am a nice guy if you don’t typecast me within minutes of meeting me.”
I’d never admit to him that he’s a nice guy when it comes to Jolie. With her, he’s almost sweet. But he’s still the same guy I thought he was the first day he started at Ink Envy. His ability to maintain his celibacy for a while doesn’t change that.
I raise my shot glass.
“To you getting sole custody of Jolie.”
“And you finding your birth parents,” I add.
“Only their information, but yes.” We clink the glasses together and down the shots.
The waitress comes by with my martini and Jax’s whiskey. He’s usually a beer drinker when we’re out with everyone. I wonder what the lawyer told him.
We sit in silence, listening to sexy lounge music as I sip my martini.
“So want to talk about the lawyer and what he said?” he asks me.
I shake my head, tears already threatening to fall. I knew what my reality was when I decided to pursue sole custody, but Holder’s confirmation just set it in cement.
“Come on.”
I stop twirling the stem of my glass and set my eyes on him. “What is this?”
His forehead wrinkles. “What’s what?”
“This.” I wave my finger between us. “We’re not really friends. I know we coexist at work and you do things for Jolie—which I do appreciate—but we hate one another.”
“I don’t hate you.” He seems surprised that I would think that.
I blow out a breath. “Why are we having a drink?” I could be at home with a box of Kleenex and a carton of ice cream.
“Because I know this is tough on you and I’m not exactly an open book, so you’re the only one who knows what I’m doing. I figure we’d drink to the shitty situations we’re in. That’s all.” He shrugs.
I nod. “Okay.”
“Plus you look sad, and for some damn reason, I hate when people are sad.”
I shake my head at him.
Jax adds, “I came late to the group. Wanna tell me about him?”
“Who?” I ask, already knowing who he’s talking about.
“The ex? The douche? The asshole? Whatever you’d like to call him.”
I twirl the stem of my glass then sip my drink, needing the burn of the gin down my throat. “He’s an addict, and when he uses, he gets angry. When he gets angry, he hits. Rumor from Sandy is that he’s moving west, so I want to get this over with before he goes.”
There, I just told him all of it without shedding one tear.
“It’s a good idea. You don’t want him coming back to Jolie in a year or two with his own demands. Better to get it sorted now. I’ve been in the system and seen enough shit to know that biology holds more weight than someone’s treatment of their kid.”
“It must have been hard being a foster k
id.”
He downs a big gulp of his drink. “Want another shot?”
I shake my head. “You’re not taking advantage of me tonight.”
He raises his hands and orders two more shots anyway. “I’m pretty sure I could strip down naked and you wouldn’t react. You’re the only woman in Cliffton Heights who I repulse apparently.”
I’d never admit it to him, but he’s wrong. I notice a lot about Jax. I’m not sure any girl would find him unattractive. He’s tall with lean muscles and tatted-up with a chip on his shoulder. He rides a motorcycle. Hell, he’s the epitome of every dirty dream I have. But guys like him aren’t stepfathers. He’s sweet to Jolie, but if push came to shove, he wouldn’t want a little girl getting in the way of what he wants to do.
Two more shots land on the table, and Jax holds one up. “To a platonic relationship.”
I clink and down the shot, the burn coating my throat in a glorious way.
My phone dings and I pull it out of my purse.
Sandy: The movie is just starting. I promised her ice cream after. I’ll let you know.
Me: Thanks Sandy. Take your time.
I slide my phone back into my purse. “I should go.” I down my martini, which might be a bad idea after the shots.
“Why? Sandy dropping off Jolie right now?” He sips his drink, his big body not moving.
“No, it’s just…”
He sets down his drink. “What?”
I’m not sure if it’s the lounge vibes or the alcohol clouding my thinking, but he looks good. Too good. “We work together and need to keep things professional.”
He chuckles. “Do you think I’m trying to seduce you?”
“I think it would be ironic if I was the one you slept with after your long drought, and alcohol and celibacy don’t mix well.”
He chuckles louder, and his head falls back.
Holy shit, I want to slap myself to get it together. You do not want Jax.
Only the thrumming between my thighs tells me differently.
“Don’t worry, I don’t pursue where I’m clearly not wanted.” He raises his hand and signals for what I hope is another round of drinks and not shots.
“Okay.” I relax. This must just be a me thing then.
“How did you and douche meet?”
“At a club. Which should have been my first sign.”
“And Jolie?”
“She was the best mistake I’ve ever made.”
He smiles and it’s genuine. The way he cares for my daughter makes me smile back.
“How long have you guys been apart?” Jax asks.
The waitress drops off another round of drinks, and I lower my head so Jax can’t see my face. I’m most ashamed of how long I stayed, risking my daughter.
“Hey.” He slides over to my side of the booth and puts his arm around me. “What did I say?” His voice is full of concern, and for some reason, that makes me feel worse.
I shake my head, wishing he’d be mean to me right now. “Nothing.” I slyly wipe my tears.
“Bullshit, I said something.”
I continue shaking my head. “Nope. I’m good, but I really should go.” I dig in my purse and drop a twenty on the table.
As I go to slide out, I realize he’s blocking me and not moving. I look at him—Jax really is a gorgeous man. “I should’ve left him a lot sooner. That’s all. Now can I go?”
My hip hits his thigh because he still doesn’t move. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“Sure, you did. I think you get a kick out of seeing me upset.”
His shoulders sink and he looks as if I popped his birthday balloon. “No, I don’t. I think you’re strong as fuck. I can’t imagine raising a kid on my own. Hell, she sure wouldn’t be as awesome as Jolie. We have our differences, but I figured that’s how we got along. We take jabs at each other because we like each other.”
“Like immature ten-year-olds who think the opposite sex has cooties?”
His arm drops and the warmth of his palm soaks into my skin through my shirt. His fingers rub my arm and I slowly move my gaze up to his. “I don’t think you have cooties.”
“Me either,” I say, my eyes fixed to his.
“Frankie,” he says, his voice low and sultry as he leans in.
“Yeah?” I hold my breath and wait for him to respond.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he says right before his lips press to mine.
My eyes close—holy shit, the man can kiss. It shouldn’t surprise me, but between my own sex drought and the fact that Michael was usually more drunk or high than sober, I can’t remember the last time I was kissed like this. Like he’s starved for me. Like he can’t get enough. I love the way he lightly nibbles on my bottom lip right before he sucks it. Then without warning, he slides his tongue inside my mouth, tangling with mine.
A low groan rumbles up his throat and I grab his T-shirt, fisting it so he doesn’t think he’s getting away. His body pushes me against the wall at the end of the booth, his large hand holding my hips from bucking because I need something to grind against. Then his mouth is off mine and I whimper at the loss.
“Let’s get out of here.” His voice is gravelly and oh so sexy.
“But—”
He tosses money onto the table and hands back my twenty. “Do you not want to?”
“It’s a bad decision,” I say, leaning into him and hoping he’ll put his lips on mine again.
“Yeah, it is, but because of your bet, I don’t have much self-control right now. But if you don’t want to, say the word.”
This is a bad decision with consequences I don’t want to think about because all I want in this moment is some pleasure. It’s been so long since anything in my life was simply about me feeling good.
I press my fingers to my tingling lips. Fuck it. I’m taking it this time. “My apartment. They’re not due back for hours.”
“You underestimate my abilities,” he says, taking my hand and dragging me from the Velvet Bar.
We barely reach my apartment door without touching or kissing in the elevator, down my hall, while waiting for me to get the key in the lock. Once the door shuts, I put on the latch in case Jolie and Sandy arrive home early for some reason. He kicks off his boots and picks me up by my hips, so I straddle him, attaching his lips to mine.
“I knew you’d be so fucking good,” he murmurs into my neck before sucking my earlobe into his mouth.
After walking us back to my bedroom, he drops me and strips off his T-shirt, reaching behind his back with one hand and pulling it over his head.
I scramble to get out of my clothes. He’s already stripped to his boxer briefs and crawled across the bed to me, hooking his fingers into my yoga pants and dragging them down my legs.
“I thought you weren’t a bed type of guy?” I ask.
“Oh, you’ll barely know we’re on a bed when I’m done.” He winks.
Then I’m naked in front of him and he hovers over me, his gaze heated and smoldering. There’s something about a guy like him looking at you as though you’re a goddess. I’ve never felt sexier, so I crawl on my knees to him. I touch the large bulge in his underwear, wrapping my fingers around his cock and sliding my fist up and down.
He bucks and his hand slides into my hair. I lower his boxer briefs and lick up his length before he backs up and pushes his boxers completely off. “I’ll never last and I’m pretty sure we both need to fuck.”
He’s so right. He’s always so damn right.
I lie down on my back as he grabs his pants on the floor and digs into his wallet for a condom. “How long has that been in there?”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not expired.” Then his voice lowers an octave. “On your stomach, baby.”
I flip over, raising my ass in the air. His hands slowly run over the globes of my ass before he slaps it. I scream out, but damn, it felt good. It’s as if he can read exactly what my body needs. When he dips his finger through my folds,
I rub my pebbled nipples against the comforter, needing the friction.
“I guess I ruined your clean pair of panties after all?”
“You cocky mother—” I lose all thought when he presses his tip inside me and thrusts. “Oh shit.”
His hand lands on my shoulder, pulling me back to him as he grinds into me. I’ve never been so turned on. I grow wetter the more sounds he makes behind me and the harder he slaps my ass with his free hand.
And when he leans over me and pinches my nipples with his fingers, it’s almost game over for me. But Jax is just getting started.
Chapter Five
Jax
* * *
This is a bad fucking idea. What was I thinking? Because now that my dick is inside Frankie, I’m not sure it will ever want to be anywhere else. She clenches around me and I circle my hips, then clench my ass, sliding in and out of her.
She moans and cries out and says my name as though I’m a god. Her ass is already pink and damn, what a beautiful sight it is.
Her head falls forward on the mattress. I take her hips in my hands, pulling her back as I thrust forward. I can tell she’s right there. She deserves to have an orgasm that rocks her world, so there’s no way I’m coming first.
I lie down over her back, my hands cupping her tits, my thumbs running over her nipples. Her back arches and I kiss her shoulder, pushing inside her. She’s so wet and warm, I could stay here forever and be a happy man.
“Jax,” she sighs and her head tips back to my shoulder. My lips are all over her face until I manage to take her lips in a fleeting kiss because it restricts too much movement. “I’m right there.”
“I know you are.” I slide my hand down from her tits, past her navel to her clit, then I slowly circle the nub.
“Oh God,” she pants and her back arches again. “Don’t stop.”
“Don’t plan to,” I say, applying more pressure.
Her hand reaches down and locks around my wrist so I can’t move. “Holy… seriously…”