Two Bar Mitzvahs (3 page)

I put him on speaker while I fired off a text to Kristen.

URGENT! Did you cancel tent and furniture rental for next week?

Focusing on damage control, I pinched the bridge of my nose and prayed things hadn’t gotten royally fucked up. “John, is the order still available?”

Kristen’s text alerted through.

No! That’s what my voicemail was about.

John replied, “Yeah, I haven’t done anything yet.”

I exhaled sharply, remembering Kristen’s indecipherable message. Now her anger threaded through it made sense—we Michaelsons had a touch of Irish fire flowing through our veins.

“Good,” I replied to John. “Book it again. And don’t change a thing unless you hear directly from me. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but that wasn’t us who called you.”

“Okay, man. Great to hear.”

Yeah. Because pissing off a vendor at the last minute didn’t lose only a huge deposit—it threatened our reputation with a reliable supplier.

Kristen texted me again.

We good?

I took another deep breath, trying to calm the fuck down, and typed a reply.

Yeah. Crisis averted.

But had it been? I didn’t believe in coincidence, which is how other people might explain Madison popping into the picture on the same day we got anonymously fucked with. Growing up together, I’d witnessed rare moments of her manipulation. Never thought I’d be at the receiving end of it. But a stunt like this had her MO written all over it and was typically her weird way of getting attention.

Initially, I hadn’t planned on responding to Madison. But now it was clear that avoiding her wasn’t the answer. Confronting her was.

Dinner that night was at my place, like it was every Monday. After a long afternoon of straightening out emails and starting on Loading Zone’s second-year business plan, I walked through the front door.

My mouth watered the moment I inhaled. “Oh my God. What is that?”

Hannah texted an hour ago to say she was heading over to make dinner and wanted it to be a surprise instead of the usual, where I played kitchen assistant to her chef. I dropped the keys to my bike in the front entry bowl and followed the scent.

When I stepped into the kitchen, she glanced up from the stove. A smile lit up her face. “How do you feel about bacon bison barbeque burgers?”

I grinned, walking over to her before wrapping my arms around her. “Like I just fell in love with food without ever tasting it.”

She leaned up and gave me a soft kiss. “Grab a plate. Mase was just about—”

“—to steal all the damned burgers for himself.” My roommate walked in as he interrupted her. “Jesus Christ, Hannah. Are you
trying
to ruin us for all other food?”

He tried to press in as Hannah transferred the burgers from the grill top to a platter, but I palmed a hand on his bare chest and pushed back. I stared at the shorts barely hanging on his hips, scowling. “Put a shirt on, idiot. Show some respect.”

His eyes narrowed, but he glanced at Hannah and nodded before disappearing down the hall.

I dropped my face to her ear. “Sure you still want to come over to cook for these heathens?”

The front door opened and slammed shut, the other heathen arriving. “Holy shit!”

Hannah and I laughed at Ben’s shout. She nodded. “I love hanging with the guys. You included.”

What a lucky fucker I was. I had a great girl who liked hanging with the guys. A girl who liked
being
one of the guys when the table talk turned…well, guy.

I grabbed the burger platter and brought it to the table already set with four plates, napkins, and silverware. French fries were in four small bowls at the corner of each plate. I set the burgers next to another platter piled high with toasted buns.

Ben barged into the kitchen, took one look at the table, and tackled Hannah into a bear hug. “I think I love you.”

Her brows shot up. “Only think?”

Mase returned with a faded T-shirt on. “He knows he loves you. But Cade’ll beat the shit out of him if he comes on too strong.”

I shrugged as I opened the refrigerator. “True.” I slid beer bottles between the fingers of each hand and brought four of them to the table.

Manners were lost as everyone sat and it became a free-for-all. We grabbed buns, forked burgers onto them, and loaded up with mustard, tomatoes, lettuce, and onions.

Hannah nudged me with her elbow. “I can break away for camping Wednesday.”

I grinned. “Nice. I’ll check with Kristen, but that should be doable. Ben, can you cover for me at the bar?”

He gave a brief nod as he stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth.

Mase whined. “Who’ll feed us?”

I shot him a warning glare. “Fend for yourself. Oh, we’ll need to borrow your gear.”

He gave a tired sigh. “Fine. Pizza it is. And no problem.”

Conversation stalled the moment we bit into the burgers. I groaned. So did the guys. When I finally came up for air, I gave Hannah a hard look. “Best burger I’ve ever tasted.”

She snorted. “You’re so easy. You told me your weakness: bacon.”

Ben gave her a matter-of-fact nod as he took a pull from his beer. Then he set it down. “Everything’s better with bacon.”

Mase raised his bottle high. “A-
the
-
fuck
-men.”

Hannah fought a smile. “So now it’s a religious experience?”

He dropped her a deadpan look. “It has been. I’ve been on my knees ever since you started cooking for us, thanking the kitchen gods. It’s like Cade and his contractor made this gourmet kitchen just for you.”

“Build it, and she will come,” I mumbled.

Hannah shot me a heated glance.

Mase tossed a fry at her. “No. No sexy shit at the table. We have to eat here.”

Ben shook his head. “Finish your food, then get the hell out of here. We’ll clean up.”

They usually did. But as I looked at my half-eaten burger and hers, I’d suddenly lost my appetite for anything but her.

Hannah and I scraped our chairs back at the same time, then I chased her down the hallway. The guys’ laughter was muted when I slammed my bedroom door shut.

She spun around, her chest heaving. The tiny purple T-shirt clung to her breasts with every sharp inhale. Her cheeks were pinked, eyes glinted with amusement.

But instead of jumping onto my bed like usual, she stood her ground between my desk and bed, waiting for me to make the first move. After our first time together last night, my bed suddenly had a greater purpose than our usual post-dinner studying.

I took a deep breath. “Before we do anything, we need to talk first.”

Her expression fell.

“No, it’s good. Well, not exactly ‘good.’ But it’s me not keeping things from you. I have to tell you what happened today.”

With that disclosure, she nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

I sat in my desk chair and updated her on the malicious phone call, the resulting cancellation email, and my suspicions. “I plan to call Madison back. Agree to meet with her.”

Hannah’s expression remained steady, attentive. “How do you feel about that?”

“Irritated. Pissed. Determined. But oddly, relieved to get it over with. If she wants to meet me—whether or not she had anything to do with canceling our order—I’ll see what she wants. I hate getting a tetanus shot too, but it’s a necessary evil.”

She nodded but said nothing.

Worried about the whole disclose-everything idea, I frowned. “How do
you
feel about it?”

On a heavy sigh, she crossed her arms. “You meeting
Madison
? I don’t like it at all. You’ve been through hell with her. But I see why you feel you need to meet with her. Being informed is better than being left in the dark.” She shrugged one shoulder.

Yeah, she didn’t need to connect the dots for me. I got off the chair and knelt in front of her. “Hey. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be careful, Maestro. She’s only a nuisance. But she won’t be for long.”
I sure as fuck hoped.
“Now, enough talk about what irritates both of us. Let’s shift the mood in here.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “What mood are you going for?”

I worked my way in between her knees, then pushed up, forcing her back on the bed. “Bad. My mood is getting very bad.”

She collapsed back onto the center of the bed, her dark hair fanning around her head. “How bad?” On a deep inhale, she tugged her lower lip into her mouth with her teeth.

I growled and dipped down, sucking her lip into my mouth. Then I slanted my head, kissing her hard. By the time I pulled away, she’d gone breathless. Her lips were red. Her eyes sparked with lust. “Hannah. I’m going to strip you naked and flip you into every position I’ve imagined while you innocently studied on my bed.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Which positions?”

I shook my head. “No. No itinerary.” Taking a deep breath, I pulled back and stood. I grabbed the front of my T-shirt and yanked it over my head. In the next few seconds, I popped open the buttons of my fly and shoved off my jeans.

Hannah swept her gaze from my face, down my chest, to the erection jutting out toward her. “Beautiful,” she whispered.

Primal.
Blood thundered in my ears as I lunged forward.

Her jaw dropped open as I stripped off her shorts and thong together. I crouched over her, reached behind her back, and unclasped her bra with the flick of a finger and thumb. Then I clutched her top and bra and ripped them over her head before tossing them across the room.

Eyes wide, she swallowed hard and scooted, rotating into a missionary position, head toward the pillows. I gripped her hips, flipped her over, and tugged her down.

She gasped, face on the comforter, arms spread wide. But her hands clutched the fabric. And when I spread my palm across her ass cheek with a light touch, she let out a soft moan.

Oh yeah. The anticipation amped her up. “You like this, Maestro?”

A quick nod of her head.

“What about this?” I smacked her ass.

She sucked in a sharp breath, but that was it—no answer.

It wasn’t a no. So I slapped her skin again, this time the other cheek, harder.

The response I got was a groan as she exhaled.

I smiled, rubbing skin that pinked right before my eyes. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Cade. I trust you.”

Stretching my body over hers, I pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder blade. “Good. Then trust me to make you feel good.”

For the first time in my bedroom, I didn’t need to reach for the condoms in my nightstand. We’d already established she was on birth control, and we’d both been safe (or in her case, infrequent) with our sexual encounters.

I moved to the side and dragged my fingertips down her back before gently palming over her ass cheeks, one, then the other. The entire time, I gauged her reactions—when she took a deep breath, how long she exhaled. My fingers trailed lower, between her thighs, up into her cleft that had already become wet. Her responses grew hotter: gasps every time I surprised her with a touch to her clit, a fingertip pressing inside, lightly lifting; low moans on each exhale as I pressed and rubbed, finding out what she liked, how she needed it.

I took my time. Pulled her to the brink. Balanced her there before shifting my touch. And as my teasing dragged on, her soft cries and moans grew louder.

I stopped, resting my fingertip on her clit, another finger pausing its strokes inside of her. “Careful, Maestro. I’ll give you what you need, but unless you want the guys to have a ringside seat, you’ll need to keep it down.”

She nodded and pulled the corner of a pillow toward her face. Then she squirmed her hips.

“Ah, ah, ah. No grinding.
I
take you there.” Once she stilled, I began circling and stroking, slow, steady. With every muffled cry and moan, I brought her to the brink again, then kept her there. Teasing. Taunting.

She dragged out a low moan into the pillow, then turned her head to the side and whispered, “Please, Cade. Please.”

Her begging undid me. I slid my finger deeper and stroked her harder, faster.

Her breath caught. Her muscles tensed. She pressed her head down into the pillow.

The second I felt her first hard pulse, I moved between her legs, spreading her thighs wider with my knees. I pressed my tip to her entrance, slid further, over her clit, then pulled back and slowly plunged deep.

She screamed into the pillow as her orgasm continued around me.

Fully seated, pulsing heat wrapped around me, I sucked in a shaky breath. Then I pulled back and thrust forward, hard and slow, taking my time, extending her pleasure. Soon the ache grew too intense for me to hold back any longer. I leaned back and lifted up onto my knees, grabbing her hips as I pulled her ass up against me. She buried her face into the comforter, muffling her loud moans. Her arms extended straight forward and clutched the corners of the pillows.