Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (27 page)

“The ring was for Mattie, Shaw.  Her boyfriend wants to propose.”

“Oh.  Thank God.”  Sighing, I dropped my head onto the mattress and hugged one of the million throw pillows to my chest.

“I'm starting to get a little affronted here.  You don't have to sound so relieved.”

“Sorry.”

Attentively, he toyed with a lock of hair at my temple.  “So do you really forgive me?”

“Jake, my feelings are very volatile right now.  One minute I want to kiss you, and the next I’d like to kick you in the balls.”

“I prefer the former over the latter.”

“I wouldn’t actually kick you in the balls.  I’m just expressing my anger.”

“Now that you’ve clarified that, can we focus on the former?”  Unable to help myself, a smile stretched across my face.  Jake took this as an approval and climbed onto the bed, crawling his way toward me.  From between us, he grabbed the pillow and tossed it to the floor.

“Jake, I’m not sleeping with you on this plane.”  I knew that look in his eye.  It was pure hunger.  A simple kiss wouldn’t suffice.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.  Not enough time to do any sleeping.”  Lowering his head, he reached for my lips.  I pressed my hands to his chest, pushing him away.

“Everyone is just outside that door.”  I turned my head, dodging his advances.

“They’re grown men.  They know what we’re doing.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Yes.”  Dropping his head again, he closed his eyes, going in for a kiss.  I pushed against his chest again, holding him off.

“How does that make me look if I’m in here having sex with you, with them only feet away?”

“Like you’re in love with me.”  He had me there.  Damn if I didn’t.  Observantly, the laughter faded from his eyes.  “Say it, Shaw, and I’ll settle for a kiss.”

“You have that backwards, don’t you?  Aren’t you supposed to use that to get me into bed?” I retorted.  My attempt to brush off his appeal was weak at best.  “If you love me, you’d sleep with me?”

“It would be if my goal was to get in your pants, Shaw, but my priorities just shifted.  What I want is infinitely more important.”

“This isn’t a game, Jake.”

“I’m not laughing.”  Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against mine, taking my mouth in a slow kiss.  I didn’t push him away this time, letting him seduce me into complacency.  His hand slipped between my thighs, working his fingers along the seam of my pants.

Moaning into his mouth, I arched my hips, chasing his touch.  He responded in kind, groaning lowly and pressing his fingers harder against me.  Slowly, they circled and stroked, finding the sweet spot through my jeans.  As talented as he was, I was beginning to resent wearing them.  They were an unwanted barrier between me and the pleasure he offered.

Breaking the kiss, Jake’s gaze flitted over my features and rested on my eyes.  “Your turn.”

“I think I’ll take the sex,” I said, lifting my head and reaching for his lips.  Jake’s breathed puffed against my face as he laughed, retreating from my advances.

“Not until you say it.”

“That wasn’t the rule.”

“This isn’t a game,” he reminded me.  Touché.

“This is stupid.”

“It’s not.”

“It is.  It’s going to sound awkward and anticlimactic because you’re expecting it.  If you want it to sound natural, I have to be in the moment.”

“What—during sex?” he inquired.  “That doesn’t count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s sex.  It makes you say stupid things.”

“I’ve
never
told anyone I loved them during sex.  That’s not what I meant anyhow.  In the moment…like…there has to be some supporting or passionate emotion involved like anger, adoration, or reflection.”

“Try me.”

“I love you, Jake.”

“Works for me.”  Giving a ‘meh’ shrug, he dropped his head and kissed me.  Laughing, he ran his tongue across my lower lip and pulled it between his teeth.  “That…” He pressed a small kiss at the corner of my mouth.  “Was pretty anticlimactic.  I think we need to try again.  This time, I’ll offer a little technical support.  Feel free throw it out there at any time.”

Rising to his knees, he began shucking my pants down over my hips.  I lifted my ass, helping him out.  One by one, he pulled them over my feet.  Instead of throwing them to the floor, he lifted them to his nose and drew in a deep breath, his eyes drifting closed.

“What are you doing?”

“I missed that fucking smell.”  Smiling crookedly, he tossed them to the floor, and unzipped his own pants, freeing himself.

“That’s kinda gross.”

“Shaw, there’s no better smell in the world.  After that little affair at the doctor’s office the other day…”  Wrapping his hand around his cock, he stroked it, running his fingers over the head, down to the base and back again.  His other hand, he lifted to his nose and drew a deep breath.  “Jesus Christ, I could still smell you on my fingers.  It was just what I needed.”

“You did not.”

“What else was I supposed to do?  You left me pent up.”

“We were in an exam room!  I could’ve gotten fired!”

“Melvin wouldn’t do that.  We’re acquaintances.  Besides, the last fundraiser I did raised the money to buy half the equipment in that place.”

“So you excused yourself to the bathroom and jacked off.”

“You’re not the only one who dreams.”  Dropping his hand from his face, he focused on the real article.  “It’s either take care of business or deal with a vicious fuckin’ case of blue balls.”

“You dream of me?”

Smiling crookedly, he bent until his nose skimmed the inside of my thighs.  “Only once a night.”  My smile was obliterated as his tongue stroked my clit.  Heat pooled in my belly and the apples of my cheeks.  My head fell back.  A low moan rose up my throat, urging him on.  As if that wasn’t enough indication, my hands threaded into his hair and pulled him toward me.

Taking cue, Jake buried his face against me.  With his hand, he found my entrance and pushed two fingers into me.  I gasped in pleasure and rocked my hips against him.  Licks of heat razed what remained of the wall between us, turning my hesitancy into ash and dust.

“Come for me, Shaw,” Jake demanded, curling his fingers in a come hither motion.  Meeting and holding my stare, he flicked his tongue against me, stoking the fire.

Closing my eyes, I gave myself over to my sensations.  The glide of his tongue against my flesh.  The stroke of his fingers inside me.  The heat of his breath.  The scent of arousal.  The sound of Jake’s low moans, and the wet flick of his tongue.  My own panting gasps of air.

My orgasm came like an inferno, intense and searing.  I could barely bite back the cry that wanted to escape, lest the others hear us.  Letting go of Jake’s hair, I grasped the sheets, riding out the tremors of my peak.

As Jake released me from the fetters of my orgasm, my toes slowly uncurled and my muscles gradually relaxed into cognizance.  He rose up between my thighs and settled between them.  The weight of him was enticing.  I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him toward me, while reaching up and taking his mouth in a lascivious kiss.

“Pants.  Off.  Now,” I demanded, barely breaking this kiss.  Impatiently, I reached down and began tugging at the waist, peeling them down over his hips.  My hand ran over something small but bulky.  Jake quickly pushed my hands away and took over, removing his jeans.

“No reason to rush, Shaw.  It’s going to be quick enough as it is.  I can practically feel it coming up my cock.”

“Was that paraphernalia in your pocket?”  It wouldn't surprise me.  He always came prepared, it seemed.

“Doesn’t matter.  We’re not using it.”  Kicking his jeans down over his feet, Jake centered his attention on me.  Staring absorbedly, he guided his cock along my entrance and pushed in.  Immediately closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath.  I could see his lips moving as he counted backwards, trying to salvage a thread of control.

“Ten, twenty, Forty-five,” I chimed in.  “Sixty-nine.”

“Not funny.”  Still, his lips pulled up at the corners.

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me yet?”

“Somewhere warm.”

“I didn’t ask where you were.  I asked where you were taking me.”

“I’m going to take you in the ass in two seconds.”  His tone was disapproving.  My counteractive questions didn’t help.  In earnest, he began pumping his hips.  “Holy fuck, Shaw.”

Expletives began to pour from his lips, regardless of the men in the next room.

I held onto his shoulders, luxuriating in the flex of his muscles.  He felt divine, bringing completion to my orgasm with his firm thrusts.  I angled my hips, taking all of him.

“Oh God!  Jesus!  Ungh!”  With one last thrust, Jake froze, all but the pulsing of his cock, and the quiver rolling down his spine.  A moment later, he was dead weight on top of me.  “My dreams don’t do you justice, Shaw.”

“Then your dream me is egregiously lacking.  I really didn’t do anything.”  Laughing silently, I ran my fingers through his curls, coiled one large lock around my finger.  “Except maybe moan a little.”

“I love those fucking moans.”

“Such a romantic.”

Lifting his head, Jake stared through hooded eyes.  “Don’t think I’ve forgotten, Shaw.  You still haven’t said it.”

Threading my fingers into his hair, I guided his lips back to mine.  “I love you, Jake.”

Chapter 23
 

“
I
t
isn’t
my natural color,” I argued.  Stealing a glance in the mirror, I knew Carter was right.  My hair was lifeless and drab.

“Your hair color is boring.  It’s like…”  Carter paused, searching for the right word.  “A brown paper bag.”

“A brown paper bag,” I repeated, aghast.  I hadn’t thought it was that bad.  Looking toward Jake, I searched for a sign of confirmation or denial.

“I love you, Shaw.  I don’t give a fuck what color your hair is.”

“Of course he’s going to say that,” Carter pressed.  “He has to.  He’s in love.”  Tucking his hand under the neck of his shirt, he patted his chest in a mock beat.  “Everything’s fucking hearts and roses now.”

“Do you know how much time and money it took to get my hair back to its natural color?”

“You
paid
money
for that?”

“Fuck you, Carter.”

Sitting forward in his chair, Carter looked me square in the eye.  “I’m being your friend here since Jake-off can’t bring himself to tell you.  This hair color doesn’t work for you, or anyone for that matter.  You might as well wear a brown paper bag on your head.  At least we could color on it, give it a little character.”

“Carter.”  Jake pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Shut the fuck up.”

Sitting back in his chair, Carter folded his arms across his chest.  “Whatever.  Do what you want.  But when you’re standing in front of the cameras, having your picture taken with Jake…”

Dropping my head against the back of the seat, I groaned.  Carter was a jerk, but he was looking out for me.  Wherever Jake was taking me, I was going to be in the public eye.  “Ok.”

“You’re sure?” the stylist asked.  He was cute, tattooed, with a snakebite piercing, and looked nearly indifferent to my capitulation.  He ranked with the best in LA, Jake had assured.

“Do it.”

Satisfied, he began sectioning my hair.

“Don’t look so worried,” Carter scoffed.  “It can only improve.”

“Fuck off, Carter.”

“I’m just looking out for you, Violet.  If you had a flake of kale wedged between your teeth, wouldn’t you want me to tell you?”

“If your mouth resembled a hairy asshole constantly egesting bullshit, would you want me to tell you?”

Carter winced, as if slapped.  “There’s no reason to get nasty.”

“Carter, I can always change my hair color, but you’ll always be a jerk.”

“You know…I’m just not going to talk to you anymore.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.”

Twisting the last of my hair into a knot, my stylist headed to the backroom to mix up a bowl of hair color.  I sank down into the barber’s chair, glancing around the salon.  There were a few clients scattered throughout the place.  The stylists did their best to keep them preoccupied with conversation, but I found them stealing glances in the mirror when possible.  If this was any indication of how tonight would be, I was about to be scrutinized over every little detail.

“Egest…” Carter mused.  “That’s as bad as shat.”

“I didn’t say shat,” I pointed out.  “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever said shat.”

“No, your boy Jake says shat; you say egest.”

In the chair beside Carter, Jake chuckled to himself, garnering our attention.  “Sorry,” he laughed, “I can’t get the picture out of my head.”

“What picture?” Carter inquired.

“A big hairy asshole where your mouth is.”

Carter cut him a condescending glare and flipped him the bird.  “Fuck you, douchebag.”

“Say douche again,” Jake continued, “when you pucker your lips, it really strengthens the visual.”

“I don’t need this crap. I try to help your girl out and this is the thanks I get.”  Disgruntled, Carter stood from his chair.  “I’m going to grab a beer.  Fuck you both very much.”

“You keep talking, but all I hear is bbbrrrrrrtttttt.”  Jake blew a raspberry, which sounded ridiculously like a fart.  Shaking his head in disgust, Carter headed for the door.

Matthew stood from his chair to follow, fighting a smirk.

“Don’t let him drink too much,” Jake warned, “He’ll have to take a piss while we’re stuck in the cattle shoot.”

“Would serve him right.”  Nonetheless, Matthew tucked his chin and set off after him.  The bell on the door pinged as he stepped out.  He looked to the left, and then strode away.

“You don’t need to change your hair,’ Jake told me, gathering my attention.  “I mean it.  The color is fine.”

“Maybe I’m not doing it for you.  If I end up in some photograph somewhere, I want to look at it without shuddering.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m playing it safe.  You won’t tell me where we’re going.”

“If I tell you where we’re going, will you leave your hair?”

He gave me pause for thought.  I’d almost caved.  Almost.  “No!”

“You’re going to listen to Carter over me?”

“Carter doesn’t have anything to lose by telling me the truth.”

Shaking his head, Jake stared in reproach.  “He only pointed out that bit of logic to get under your skin.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.”

“Wow.”  Yes, I really hated my natural hair color.  He was finally realizing that.

“We can’t all have hair as pretty as yours.”

Jake’s mouth popped open in protest.  “Pretty?  My hair’s
not
pretty.”

“I didn’t mean to insult your masculinity with my poor choice of vocabulary.  Would you rather handsome…or suave?  Is that better?”

“No, you said pretty.”

“It was a compliment.  I love your hair.”

“You’re obligated to say that.”

Biting back a smile, I rolled my eyes.  “You’re such a dork.”  He hadn’t wasted the opportunity, twisting my words to make a point.

“Hot or sexy would’ve worked, Shaw.”

“Noted, Jake’s hair should never be referred to as pretty.  Hot and sexy are the solely acceptable descriptions.”

“Just so that we’re clear.”

“No man’s hair should be hotter than his girl’s!” I exclaimed, indignant.  “It’s not fair that you—a man—should be born with those curls while I look like the effing scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz!”

Standing from his chair, Jake came to stand in front of me.  He leaned over me, staring me in the eye.  “Why did you change it back in the first place?”

I looked down at my fingers, which were locked in my lap.  I’d only ever colored it purple because my natural color was so boring.  It was the only way people noticed me.  It made me stand out in the crowd.  After Jake, I no longer wanted to stand out.  I wanted to blend in.  I’d decided that when the right guy came along, he’d notice me for me, and not my purple hair.

“It was never about your hair,” he said.  The blood rushed to my face, leaving me feeling self-consciously warm.  He was pulling out all of the stops and addressing my insecurities.  Fuck if wasn’t working.  Leaning closer, his stubble tickled my cheek, his lips a breath away from my ear.  “It was your ass.  I love that fucking ass of yours.”

Finding my voice, I laughed and pushed him away.  He budged only enough to reach my lips, taking my mouth in a kiss.  My complaint died at the sweep of his tongue.  I found myself angling my head, returning the kiss, my wrists locking around the back of his neck.

“Um, yeah,” Marshall complained, “I’m still here.”  A brief pause.  A sigh of lament.  “Jesus, no matter which way I turn my head there’s another damn mirror.  It’s like watching them make out in IMAX.”

“You’d think they’d gotten it out of their system on the plane,” Shane chimed in.  “They spent a whole what—ten minutes in their seats?”

Breaking the kiss, Jake straightened and looked at Shane in objection.  “You’re one to talk,” he scoffed.

“What?  Em and I aren’t that bad.”

“If that were true, I wouldn't know what
leccami me figa
meant. 
Oh, Shane leccami me figa.  Og, yes...right there.  More, Shane.  Don't stop...Merda!
”

A sheepish grin spread across Shane's face.  “That's different.”

“How’s that?”

“We were in the privacy of our own room, not standing in the middle of a business establishment swallowing one another's tongues.”

“What’re we sixteen?” Jake argued.  “Quit busting my balls.  It was just a fucking kiss.”  Dropping back into his chair, Jake adjusted himself, sporting an obvious erection.  A wry smirk spread across his face.

Marshall and Shane fought a smile while I blushed furiously.  Luckily, the stylist returned with a small cart, carrying a bowl of purple hair dye.  “You look like you’re still debating.  Did you change your mind?”

“Yes,” Jake said at the same time I said, “No.”

Jake gave me a look that brooked no argument.  “She’s going to go red.”

“I look terrible in red.”  I looked like a clown.  All I needed was a red rubber nose.

“Sugar, there’s a red for everyone,” my stylist admonished, “your stylist just didn’t find the right shade.”

♪♫♪♫

“It’s a little…revealing,” I said quietly.  The fabric of my dress was so sheer, you could see everything, right down to my panties discourteously glued—yes glued—to my ass so they wouldn’t shift around while I posed for the cameras.  It was a nude stretch of silk gauze with a few well-placed embellishments.  Don’t get me wrong.  I was a girl.  I loved dresses.  But this was…wow.  Celebrities wore gowns of this ilk, not nurses from the suburbs of Seattle.  Not even if I was going to some sort of fancy pants fundraising gala with the keyboardist of Hautboy.

Flashing a smile, Jake adjusted his tie, while giving the dress one last look-over.  “You look perfect.”

“I don’t know what the big deal is,” Carter added.  “We’ve already seen you in your thong.  At least you have bikinis on this time.”

The smile vanished from Jake’s face.  “Your tie’s a little loose, man.  Why don’t you come over here and I’ll tighten it for you?”

Carter smirked and headed toward the back of the store.  “I need to take a piss.  I’ll meet you in the car.”  Aware that Jake was staring daggers at his back, he flipped him the bird over his shoulder.

“I’d like to strangle him with that fuckin’ thing.”  Frowning discontentedly, Jake went back to adjusting his tie, wiggling it back and forth, tightening and loosening the knot.

“Get in line.”

“Hmm?”  Looking up, Jake briefly met my gaze in the mirror.

“Get in line.  You’re not the only one wishing harm on him.”  Placing my hand on his shoulder, I spun him around.  I grabbed the knot to his tie, loosened it sufficiently, and then ruffled his hair.

“What the hell, Shaw.”

“You’re a rock star, Jake.  Look the part.”

Jake’s eyes roamed over me, taking in my freshly dyed hair and my evening gown.  We’d finally found the appropriate red.  For my hair, that is.  It was auburn, though on the lighter side, and very natural looking.  I felt like a woman, having shed the girlish purple dye.

My dress, however, was nude with a sheer neckline made of tulle, so that it looked strapless.  It fit like a glove all the way down to my knees where it flared out around my ankles.  The entire thing was beaded, though more heavily around my chest to conceal my breasts.  As mentioned, they weren’t nearly as generous around my nether regions, revealing my panties underneath.

“Beside you, Shaw, I feel underdressed.”

“Not used to that?”

“No,” he confessed, demurely.  “I wanted to look distinguished.”

Hence the reason he cut all the curls from his head.  I had almost cried when the first blond curl fell to the floor.  I’d thought he was doing it for coloring my hair again.  I was wrong.  He cut his hair because he wanted to look good for me.

“Well…” I said, fixing his tie, “you succeeded.”  Slipping the tip of my finger beneath the edge of the knot, I removed a buckle in the fabric, and then pulled it taut. His collar, I smoothed by running my fingers along the edge and down to the points.

“You think?”

“Especially with those silver hairs.”

I received a dirty look for that observation.  “Better keep your mouth shut, Shaw, or I’ll stick my cock in it.”  I burst into laughter, causing the corner of Jake’s lips to curl into a smile.  “It’s not funny!”

“I’m sorry.”  I pinched back a smile, trying to suppress my amusement.  “You’re right—they’re not gray; they’re pale blond.”

“Damn right they are.”  He wasn’t really angry.  I could still see the hint of a smile as he looked down at me.

“I like them either way,” I threw out there, hoping to appease him.

Grabbing my hand, he led me toward the door.  Maneuvering in my dress was no simple task, tight as it was down to my knees.  Jake noticed when I wriggled my hand from his and grasped the fold of his arm to steady myself.  He looked down at me, his eyes shadowed with hunger.  They packed a punch delivered straight to my groin.  I was amazed what power he had over me.  One sultry look had me wanting to take the limo for ourselves.