Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (28 page)

Turning away, he shook his head, as if shaking off a thought.  Without a word, he pushed through the door and led me to the limo waiting at the curb.  The limo driver, a short, stout man with wiry black hair, opened the door.  Jake stepped to the side as I let go of his arm, and he held out his hand.  Accepting his help, I ducked my head, and carefully climbed into the car.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?” I asked, once seated comfortably inside.  The leather seats were buttery rich, but my focus was elsewhere.

“Not a chance.”  Jake dropped onto the seat beside me.  Cupping my nape in his hand, he pressed his lips against mine.  Naturally, my lips parted, unable to resist indulging in a moment of privacy.  The tip of Jake’s tongue met mine.  And then he devoured me, his hand holding me firmly against him.  His for the taking.  While the kiss was short-lived, it was greedy and demanding.  It was heady, this mutual resignation of wills.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he swore. His breath was warm on my lips.  “You’re on my mind every waking minute.”  A short burst of laughter escaped him.  “And sometimes when I sleep.  All I can think about is you.  It can’t be…” He shook off the thought, “the fuck if I care.”

Unconsciously, my gaze fell. 
It can’t be right
.  Us.  Despite his assurances, he still had his doubts.  I was Peter’s little sister.  He shouldn’t be with me.  Being together is wrong because work and pleasure shouldn’t be mixed.  I felt robbed of the pleasure I had so mistakenly trusted in his words.  Regret didn’t slash me like a razor, it walloped me like a blunt sword.

“Shaw.”  I met his eyes again, drawn by the tone of his voice.  “It wasn’t the most romantic thing to say, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“It can’t be what, Jake?”

“Healthy,” he said without hesitation.  Pulling my hand to his groin, he wrapped my fingers around the hard width of him.  “I wake.  I think of you.  I sleep.  I think I you.  I breathe.  I think of you.  I make a wry comment about putting my cock in your mouth…”

A smile spread across my face, and with it, a fresh flush of color.

With his hand still cupped around my nape, he drew me closer until his lips brushed across mine.  Just as abruptly, he pulled away.  Far enough to look me in the eye.  “What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing.”  It sounded guilty and ashamed.  I wasn’t giving him a chance.

“Liar.  You know how I feeling about lying.”  Tilting his head, he stared from beneath his ridged brows.

“It’s nothing!” I insisted.  “Really.”  A swift tug on my arm, and I found myself slung over Jake’s knee, my ass pointing inelegantly into the air.

“You looked like I’d just boiled a puppy, Shaw.  I’ll give you one more chance.”  Hungrily, he smoothed his palm in a circle over my ass.  “What did you think I meant?”

“It can’t be right!  Us!  Together!”

Behind me, the door swung open.  I turned my head just as Carter ducked his head in.  Taking in the scene—my ass pretty much filling the entry—his brows arched.  A leer wormed its way across his face.  “Sweet baby Jesus, baby’s getting a spanking!”

“Shut up, Carter,” I grumbled as Jake helped me up.  I moved to take a seat next to Jake, but he tugged me into his lap instead.

“We’re not done here,” Jake said quietly.  He left the threat open, preferring to finish our conversation in private, with Carter climbing into the cab.

“You’re really into that shit, aren’t you?” Carter continued.  “You like Jake’s dark and twisty side, you dirty little girl.”

“Since you’re hard of hearing, I’ll sign it for you.”  I popped my middle finger into the air.  “Fuck off.”

“That’s not very ladylike.”

“You’ve mistaken the part where I give a damn.”

“You know, keep being rude, and I’ll finish what Jake started.”

Climbing into the cab—and past Carter, who sat smack dab in the center of the seat—Marshall gave him a not-so-gentle elbow to the jaw.  “Ooh, sorry man.  It’s cramped in here.”

“That’s just wrong,” Carter complained, rubbing his jaw.  “Why you always gotta take the girls’ side?”

“I can’t help it if you’re not a gentleman.”

“Who says I’m not a gentleman?”

“Your mouth.”

Frowning, Carter made a noise of derision.  “I never say anything that isn’t true.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Jake squeezed my knee, warning me from garnering Carter’s attention again.  Carter was a good guy.  His intentions were never malevolent, but his delivery was often abrasive, impulsive, and wrapped in a shiny red bow called wit.

The bantering continued while the others climbed into the car and took their seats.  When the last of us had settled in, Matthew signaled the driver, and we were off.  The destination was still unbeknownst to me. Keeping to his true self, Jake was savoring the buildup.

Ducking my head, I peered out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of one thing or another, perhaps a famous landmark that might give some small clue as to our destination.  The anticipation was killing me.  If he wasn’t going to tell me, I’d figure it out eventually.

One thing I knew; he’d gone out of his way to make this day special.  He’d seen to every detail, from the flight and hotel, down to my dress, shoes, and hair.  I have to admit, I was impressed.  He’d put a lot of thought into it.  More effort than I would’ve ever expected of any man.  I knew from experience.  I had ten brothers.  They didn’t have an ounce of creativity between them.

Turning my head, I pressed a kiss to Jake’s lips.  “Thank you.”

The corners of his mouth turned up into a grin.  “What for?”

“This.”

“The night hasn’t even started yet.”

“It’s already more than enough.”

Jake studied me for what felt like minutes, and I was sure everyone was staring.  They weren’t, of course.  I could still here them conversing between themselves.  It was like Jake and I were in a separate plane of existence.  “Things are going to be different.  I promise.”

“I know.  I’m sorry about earlier.”

“You’re still unsure.  But that’s ok.  I haven’t treated you well.  Tonight, I’m making it up to you.”  Lifting his hand, he skimmed my cheek with his fingertips.  His eyes lit up, watching my face flush with color.

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m treating you like I should’ve from the beginning.”

A flash of light illuminated the cab, gathering our attention.  I turned my head, found Carter wielding his phone like a camera.  “Sorry,” he said, lowering the device.  “Had to document this historic event with a few pictures.”

“What historical event?” I inquired.  I shouldn’t have.  I was only feeding into his egotism.  Carter’s comments were never without a barb.

“You know—the day Jake fell from his high horse.”

Jake tensed, ready to retort, but I was quicker to the draw.  “Jake might’ve fallen from his horse,” I countered, “but someday, you’re going to get knocked from yours.”

“I only have one leg, Violet, and I could still kick Jake’s ass.”

“Who said anything about Jake?”

Sitting forward in his seat, Carter looked enthused over the prospect.  “Who then—you?” he taunted.  “If you wear those green panties again, I’ll go round for round with you.  Anytime.”

Jake shifted beneath me, itching to strike him.

“Me?  No, not me,” I parried.  “I’m talking about your
fated
one as foretold by one Cooper Hale-Watkins.  Tate and Shane have their significant others, and now Jake and I are together.  You’re the only single one left.”

Carter’s smile soured.  “Fuck you.”

“I think I’ll buy me a new camera so I can document the event.”

“Fuck off,” he repeated.  Scowling, he rested his heels on the seat beside us and lounged back in his seat.  “Fuckwads.”

Shaking with laughter, Jake shifted me on his lap and nuzzled my ear.  “You really shouldn’t push his buttons, you know.  You’re playing with fire.”

“It’s not like you believe for one second that you and Jake belong together for some higher purpose,” Carter jabbed at me, unable to restrain himself.  Sitting up, he propped his elbows on his knees, intent on taking me down.

Higher purpose.  I didn’t believe in fate or any of the hokey pokey crap, but I wasn’t going to admit it to him.  My dig would be empty without it.  I’d look like an ass.

“You hesitated!” Carter accused with satisfaction.

“I did not!”

“The hell you didn’t!”  Insistently, he elbowed Marshall in the ribs, demanding a second opinion.  “She totally hesitated, didn’t she?”

Marshall, the traitor, shrugged in resignation.  “You hesitated.”

“Whatever,” I scoffed.  “I don’t see what the big deal is.  Nobody actually believes that destiny crap.  My point—” I was cut off by an abundance of oaths in response to my gainsaying fate’s far and powerful reach.  You’d think I’d cussed in the house of God.

“You don’t question fate,” Carter explained.  “As Shane.  He’ll tell you.”

I glanced at Shane, who shrugged in passive confirmation.

“Before you go spotlighting fate’s plans for my mother fuckin’ future,” Carter continued.  “Better wait until the curtain’s closed on your own.”  Well-feted on satisfaction, Carter kicked back in his seat, crossing his legs at his ankles.

♪♫♪♫

As we pulled to a stop, I was silenced with shock.  I couldn’t believe it.  I didn’t know whether I wanted to throw up or whoop with excitement.  “You said a small event.”

“I lied.”

“Breathe, Violet.  You look like you might pass out.”

“This isn’t a small event.”  Afraid to look again, I peeked out the window, catching another glimpse of the red carpet.

“I think we ascertained that.”  Fucking Carter.

“Shut the fuck up, Carter.”  Jake squeezed my hand, which was clammy and shaking with nervousness.  “She’s already anxious enough.  No reason to make it worse.”

“I’m ok.”  Some small fundraiser.  He brought me to the Grammys. 
The fucking Grammys
.  “I’m just trying to wrap my mind around it.”

“Wrap it quick and forget the bow.  We’re up.”  Shoving the door open, Carter climbed out of the limo.  He was supposed to wait for security to go first, but true to form, he did things his own way.  Tugging the lapels on his tux, he flashed a suave smile and struck a pose.

Outside, the cameras went wild.  Flashes burst like strobe lights, sending me reeling.  “Oh my God.”  This was really happening.  I was going to walk the red carpet.  Unfuckingbelievable.

Following Carter, Marshall threw a sideways glance in my direction, an amused grin toying at the corners of his mouth.  Derek climbed out behind him, followed by Taylor, Matthew and Shane.

“Are you ready?” Jake asked.

“You didn’t have to do all of this.”  Solemnly, I looked him in the eye.  “You could’ve taken me to a private dinner with a table for two.  I would’ve been happy.”

“This is just the start, Shaw.”

“It’s over the top.”

“You said the right guy would treat you as if you were the Queen of England.”  Teasingly, he winked.  “I called her royal assistant and asked for a few pointers.”

Stretching my neck, I reached for a kiss.  “Thank you.”

“The pleasure’s all fuckin’ mine.”  Cupping the back of my neck, he deepened the kiss, taking my breath away with his intensity.  When he moaned into my mouth, pinning me against the back of my seat, it nearly unraveled me.  I burned for him, nearly weeping with desire.

“Do I need to get a damn squirt bottle to keep you two apart?” Carter complained.  “You’re like fuckin’ rabbits the way you go at it.”

Breaking the kiss, albeit reluctantly, Jake shook his head.  “God give me the strength to keep from hitting him today.”

A smile spread across my face as Carter extended his hand toward me.  “Come on, Violet, before Jake-off gets brain damage from lack of oxygen.  Blood flow usually helps, but if it’s always circling to his dick and back…”

Taking a deep breath, Jake closed his eyes and tugged the collar of his shirt.  “For once, Carter might have a point.”

Giggling, I grasped Carter’s hand and stepped from the limo.  The cameras had died down, but as Carter placed his hand at the small of my back, they resumed with renewed vigor.

“Find your own girl.”  Shoving Carter aside, Jake stepped beside me, taking his place.  “Look it, there’s Spence Haney.  I think she’s sixteen now.  Just your age, Carter.”

“They.  Were.  Eighteen.”  Scowling, Carter stalked off to the next reporter.  “Fucking douchebags, every one of you.”

“Smile, Shaw.  They’re taking our picture.”  Wrapping his hand around my waist, he tugged me snug against his side.

“Sweetheart,” said the photographer, coming toward me, “I’m going to give you a few tips.  The camera will love you anyhow, but I’ll make you look like a star.  Jake you look good.”

“Thanks, man.”

Approaching me, he placed his hands on my arms, shuffled me a few steps to the left, until I stood on Jake’s left side.  “There,” he said, appraising his positioning.  “Much better.  Now, turn toward one another, a little bit more.  There.  Bring your left leg out, sweetheart.  Put your shoulder back.  Place your hand on your hip.  No.  Keep your shoulder back.”