Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (19 page)

Honestly, I wasn’t altogether positive I hadn’t.

“Loosen your jaw, sweetie, before you crack your enamel,” Em muttered.  “You’re going to have nothing but stubs if your keep grinding your teeth like that.”

Growling under my breath, I closed my eyes.  “You people are reprehensible.”  They were sabotaging my strength of character.  I was resisting Jake, but I wasn’t immune to him.

Lifting his head, Jake perused the salon.  Only he could get away with the arrogance of having to find the girl with violet hair in a nearly empty shop.  When his gaze stopped on me, he lifted his hand and jangled his keys.  “Let’s go, Shaw.  I have things to do.”

“I bet you do,” Em murmured, a smirk upturning the corners of her lips.  From the corner of her eye, she glanced at me.  “By the balls, kid.”

Stepping around the footrest of the hydraulic chair, I stood.  “Your cooking stinks.  Your meatballs are dry, and your pasta is…” I searched for a proper insult, “pasty.”  I turned to Coop, but I had no insults to drum up.  She was very nearly perfect.  “You’re a terrible patient.”  They were all lies, of course, bred by asperity over their matchmaking skills.  This was peer pressure and they both knew it.

“Poor sport,” Em chided.  She retained her smirk, but the second I turned for the door, I heard her whisper, “Are my meatballs
dry
?”

I didn’t wait for Coop’s reply.  Striding to the front of the shop, I passed Jake and headed for the door.  He fell into step behind me.  The hairs on my neck stood on end, as if reaching out to him.  Fucking magnetic attraction.  Marshall was wrong; Jake and I were completely opposite poles.  We were just two forces of nature, denying our attraction to one another.

Approaching the exit, he reached around me and pushed open the door.  His hand brushed mine, making contact before I quickly jerked away.  Not before a jolt of exhilaration raced up my arm and caused my heart to skip a beat.  My reaction only stoked my ire.

“I’m not a dog,” I bit out.  “Don’t shake your keys at me and expect me to come running.”

“I guess I shouldn’t point out that you just did.”

“I would strongly suggest you not fuck with me right now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I did a cursory glance over the parking lot, spotted his shiny red pickup off to the right.  I stepped off the curb and headed in its direction at a fast clip.

“You’re in a pleasant mood today.”

“I quit.”

“You quit,” Jake repeated, as if he'd misheard me.

“I quit.”. Not that Coop took me seriously.

“What happened?”

“I don't want to do this anymore.”  Slipping my fingers under the door handle, I lifted to no avail.  And again.  And again.  Jake pressed the unlock button on his fob as I lifted it a fourth time, bungling my fifth attempt.

“Will you let go!”  Reaching around me, he pressed the button on the handle and waited for me to move.  “If you'd just chill...”

Huffing my contempt, I stepped aside.  “You waited to unlock it until I was on top of it.”

“I wanted to get the door for you.”

I glanced up, met his eyes.  It was the wrong thing to do.  My insecurities surfaced like a slick of oil over the ocean.  Before I could spout off a rainbow of obscenities, I climbed into the truck.  “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”  Taking a step back, he closed the door, and then rounded the truck.  Despite my mood, I stared as he climbed in, devouring every detail of his body.  I hated myself for it.  I didn't want to crave him like I did.  It was why I was in the situation in the first place.

We didn't talk again until he pulled onto the street in the wrong direction.  “Where’re you going?”

“My place.”

His place.  Well that was awful presumptuous.  Just because I quit didn't mean it was open season to sleep together.  I hadn’t forgotten about the blonde from the newspaper, and whatever girls he fucked around with after me.  He didn't wait long to move on.

“I don't live above the club.”  Craning his neck, he peered over his shoulder to check oncoming traffic.  “It’s a second property.”

“I didn't say anything.”

Jake snorted, seeing through my pretenses.  “You didn't have to.  It's written all over your face.”  Flicking his blinker on, he changed lanes and laid his foot on the gas.

“
Why
are you taking me to your place?”

“I’m in the middle of painting.  My rollers are probably drying out as we speak.  But we obviously need to talk.”

I hadn't noticed, but now that he mentioned it, he had small flecks of beige paint covering his hands and forearms.

“Are you serious about that guy from the other night?”

“Liam is none of your business.”

“Liam.”  It came out derisive.  His frown deepened to a grimace.

“Shut up.”

“Fucking pussy ass name.”

“That's mature.”  I folded my arms across my chest and stared out the window.  “If this is the way you're going to act, take me home.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the color bleeding from his knuckles.  “I'm sorry.  The guy’s a dick, though.”

“Why, because he asked me out?” I snapped.  “Is that so offensive?”

“When you do it right in front of…” Jake’s teeth snapped together, cutting off his retort.

“We’re not together, though, are we?”

“He didn't know that.”

“He did, actually.  He asked.  I told him no.”

“I told you it was temporary.”

“That was just something you said because you felt bad for not calling!  Tate made you be nice to me so I'd take the job!”

“It's something I said because it was fucking
temporary
!”

“Like I'm supposed to believe that.”

“What fucking good would it do to remind you of that every five minutes?  I've been trying to keep my distance so that it wouldn't make things harder for you!”

Harder for
me
.  The guy was so stuck on himself it was obscene.  “You're full of shit.  You're just pissed off because I'm not pining over you like all your little fangirls.”

“Where do you come up with these insane notions of yours?”

“The only time you acknowledge me is when I insult you by telling you I'm not interested!  Then you maul me just to prove that I'm attracted to you!”

“You have no fucking idea what you're talking about.”

My last salvage of control slipped my grasp.  A frustrated tear tracked down my cheek.  “I can't do this.  I'm tired.  Please take me home.”

“We’re just talking, Shaw.  Why does it have to be like pulling teeth?”

“I’m not going to be the only one talking about how I feel.  I talked damn it!  I laid my heart out for you and you didn’t fucking call!  Well, fuck you!”

“I'm sorry I didn’t call.  That doesn’t mean I’m not interested.”

“Interested in me or interested in fucking me?”

“One is intrinsically related to the other.”

“No, they really aren't.”  God, the guy was dense.  “Were you
interested
in the blonde from Moses Lake?”

To my disgust, his eyebrows furrowed.  He mouthed ‘blonde’ and then ‘Moses Lake’ as he was trying to drum up a face.  As recollection set in, a slow smile spread across his face.  “The one from the photograph in the paper?” he laughed.

Snorting, I looked out the window.  “It’s not funny.”

“She’s the daughter of one of our sound crew.  It was her sweet sixteen.  We gave her and her friends box seats for the concert.”

Sixteen.  She didn’t look it.  “You never denied it when Em accused you of sleeping with her.”

“No, I didn't.”  Pulling into a rather long driveway of a large craftsman style home, Jake shifted the gear into park and turned in his seat.  “You were acting so unaffected by everything. I wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“Ugh! Do you see what I mean?  I’m supposed to be this fawning girl that swoons in your presence, but you can treat me like I’m the carpet beneath your feet.  That’s so hypocritical!”

“Carpet beneath my feet…” Jake repeated, incredulously.

“I don’t have any idea why I even like you.”

“You’re being unreasonable.”

The air left my lungs.  “Unreasonable?  I’m not indistinguishable.  Even though I might be a plebeian nurse from Seattle, the right guy will treat me like I’m a fucking Queen of England.  If it’s not going to be you, then you have no right standing in someone else’s way.”

“We.  Had.  An.  Agreement!”

“Fuck our agreement and fuck your fucking rules.  I’m worth breaking them for!”  Grasping the door handle, I yanked and shoved the door open.

“Where’re you going?” Jake shouted as I slid out.  “We're not done here!”

“Yes, we fucking are!”  I slammed the door shut and strode down the driveway at a fast clip.  Behind me, Jake followed suit.  Something made me break into a run.  Strength of will, determination, ingenuity maybe.  Jake Whalen was going to chase me one way or another.

I had a good lead, but when I reached the end of the driveway and changed my direction, I slipped on some loose gravel.  Jake took advantage of my misstep and captured the sleeve of my shirt.  With a sharp jerk, I yanked it from his grasp and took off running again.

“Goddamn it!” Jake panted, pounding after me.  “You know you’re going to pay for this, Shaw.  I’m going to tan that ass with the palm of my hand.”

“Up yours, Jake-off.”  I was playing with fire.

He hit me from behind, his arms quickly wrapping my waist until my feet lifted off the ground.  “Put me down, damn it!” I shouted, kicking my legs.

“Are you gonna walk?”

“Yes.”  The second my feet touched the pavement, I was running.  Jake captured me a second time as I reached the end of the block.  This time he lifted over me his shoulder, and began toting me back toward his house.  Not one to go down without a fight, I kicked my legs and pounded on his back.

“Put me down!”

“Not this time.”  Placing his hand strategically on my lower ass, his thumb slid between my thighs and pressed against my asshole.  I snarled in protest and buoyed my resistance with a few well-placed strikes to his kidneys.  To which he responded by turning his head and sinking his teeth into my ass cheek.  I yowled, striking notes known to shatter windows.  Still, he kept walking, while shaking with laughter beneath me.

“Dickhead!” I hissed when I finally caught my breath.  His shoulder was cutting into my gut, making it hard to breathe.

“You deserved that.”

“At least get your thumb out of my ass.”  I spotted more than one set of curtains drawn with muddled faces peeking out the windows.  There was no need to provide a show.

“I hate to tell you, Shaw, but I’m going to stick my cock in it for this little stunt you pulled.”  He emphasized his words by circling his thumb against me.  “Your ass is mine.”

I fell still.  Was he serious?  “In your dreams, buddy.”

“Not anymore.  They’re about to be fulfilled.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I never said anything about sleeping.”

“What about your rules?”

“The rules are forfeit.  You told Coop you quit.”

Well fuck.

Chapter 15
 

J
ake finished knotting off a red satin necktie around my wrists with a sharp yank.  The fabric tightened with a snick of finality.  I immediately tested them, wrenching my arms behind me.  “It’s all I have to work with on short notice,” he reflected with satisfaction, “but it’s holding rather well.”

“Untie me right now!” I demanded.  “This isn’t funny!  Asshole!”

Lifting his knee from my back, he straddled my waist.  “Such ugly noises coming from such a pretty mouth,” he scolded.  I moved one of the few things that wasn’t tied…my middle finger.  “Oh, is that how you want to roll?”

“If you don’t untie me, I’m going to scream bloody murder!  The police will come!  You’ll be all over the papers!  Fucking pervert!”

Climbing off me, he opened the closet and picked through his ties.  He separated a yellow one from the bunch and stroked the fabric with his thumb.  “This’ll do.”

Returning to the bed, he straddled my back again—despite my flailing legs—and stuffed the tie into my mouth.  He wrapped the ends once around and tied them at the back of my head.  My screams were muffled to a low din.

“Ok then, I have a wall to finish painting.  Maybe by the time I’m done, you’ll have cooled your jets a little.”

Doubtful.

Leaning over me, he lowered his head toward mine and pressed his lips to my forehead.  I scowled and turned my head away.  Persistently, he brushed the hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear.  “The things I’m going to do to you, Shaw… When I finally let you go, you’ll beg to be tied up again.”

Again, doubtful.  When he finally let me free I was going to kick his balls so hard he’d be picking them from his teeth for a week.

After lugging me—at tooth point—into his house, the second the door closed behind us, he lowered me from his shoulder, then forced me over his knee and beat my ass.  The first strike, he claimed, was for running away, the second, for making a scene.  The third was for his own perverse enjoyment.  And, oh, did he enjoy it.   He'd said as much.

Yes, his balls were mine.

♪♫♪♫

What had to have been hours later, Jake finally returned to the bedroom.  He placed a large brown bag onto the dresser and dropped a duffel onto the floor.  “You fell asleep, so I ran out for some Chinese.”

Chinese.  He was gone longer than that.  I knew because I
hadn’t
been sleeping.  I had pretended to be asleep so that I could buy some time.  I wasn’t ready for what he had planned by a long shot, and was trying to figure out how to get out of it.

“Are you hungry?” Leaning toward the edge of the bed, he tugged the tie from my mouth.  My lips felt dry and cracked.  I ran my tongue over them, wetting them.

“You left the house while I was tied up and defenseless? Someone could've broken in.”

“I have a top of the line security system.”

“The house could've caught fire.”

“I've lived here for half my life.  I doubt the house is going to spontaneously combust because I left you alone in it.”  Dismissing my accusation, he began rooting through the bag, pulling out pint size cartons with red dragons imprinted on the sides.  Do you like egg foo young or General Tso’s?”

“I have to pee.”  Jake looked down at me doubtfully.  In response to which, I rolled my eyes.  “I was drinking mimosas all morning with Coop and Em.  I have to pee.”

Crouching over the duffle on the floor, he unzipped it, rummaged through the contents and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.  He lifted his gaze, dangling them from his fingers.

“You have to be kidding,” I objected.

“Not in the slightest.”

“I
need
my hands to use the bathroom.”

Scowling unhappily, Jake eyes slivered.  “Fine.  You try anything, though, and there will be consequences.”

“Where am I possibly going to go?”

“It doesn't matter.”  Untying my wrists, he leaned in close to my ear.  “We both know I'm faster than you.”

Jerking my wrists from his grasp, I stomped into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.  Before taking note of the décor, I spotted a door for an adjoining bedroom.  It was slightly ajar, and I could see the pink glow of sunset filtering through the window treatments.

Quickly, I used the toilet and washed my hands.  The faucet, I left running.  The running water would conceal the sound of my footsteps.

Pushing the door open, I stepped into the adjoining bedroom.  Must have been his sister's room.  The walls were neutral, but the décor was decidedly feminine.

Jake was leaning against the dresser with his feet crossed at the ankles.  From under the ridge of his brows, he looked up at me, his eyes glinting with satisfaction.  “I was really hoping you'd try it.”

Without as much as a word, I bolted back into the bathroom and through the bedroom.  Jake was pounding down the hall, but I was a second faster.  I glided down the stairs like a skate, my feet moving swifter than my brain could even process.  I couldn’t believe I didn’t trip and fall.  But then, I had a lot of practice running from my brothers.

Reaching the last step, I careened toward the kitchen.  I had to place my hands out and push off the wall as I rounded the corner.  By the time I reached the door, my hands were shaking with adrenaline.  I grabbed the knob and turned.  My fingers slipped over the brass.  I turned it again.  The same thing.  Out of desperation, I yanked the knob and kicked the door.

“Goddamn it!  Open, you stupid fucking thing!”

“It’s broken.  Has been for as long as I can remember.”

I fell still, ripe with defeat.  “You’re freaking rich, and you can’t get a door fixed?”

“I’m on the road a lot.  Besides, my gram never let us use it.  She didn’t want us tracking mud in her kitchen.  So it was never a priority.”

“It’s a fire hazard.”

“The mud room is five feet over.”  Lifting his hand, he rattled the handcuffs.  “Are you going to come quietly?”

“Never.”  The corner of my lips curved over the double entendre.  I corrected my gaffe, but not quickly enough.  Jake’s mouth curled likewise.

“If you obey me right now, Shaw, I might not be as hard on you.”

“What're you going to do?”

“I’m going to bend you over the kitchen table and fuck the shit out of you.”

“What a charming proposition.”

“It’s not a proposition.  It’s a warning.”

I couldn’t resist asking, “or what?”

“I'm going to fuck you either way.  The question is whether or not I'll let you come.”

“You’re truly sadistic.”  He was the thing of nightmares. 
My
nightmares.

“I think you’ll enjoy it.”  Taking a step toward me, he dropped his head.  Carefully, he brushed his lips against mine, as if I might bolt.  Or bite him.  It was a draw.  While I liked his sadism, withholding orgasms was particularly cruel.

“You have no idea how wrong you are.”

Smirking, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to mine.  My heart stuttered in my chest, aching over the desires he evoked in me.  God damn if I didn’t have it bad for him.  He would be the undoing of me.  I swore it.

Deepening the kiss, his hands slid down to my wrists.  Slowly, he drew them behind my back.  He was gentle as he pressed the first cuff closed around my wrist.  Still, the clicking of metal caused my belly to quiver with apprehension.  A small complaint escaped me.

“Can you take it, Shaw?”

“Jake, you’ve been in my dreams every night the past few weeks—”

“You dream about me?”  His eyes lit up, a complacent grin spreading across his face.

“Don’t get all smug on me.  They’re nightmares, really.”

“Nightmares!  You’re just saying that.”

“Oh please.  Get over yourself.  You’re not exactly the portrait of innocence.”

The smirk melted from Jake’s face.  “
Nightmares
?”  He repeated himself, sounding the word out as he tried to make sense of it.

“Nightmares,” I reiterated, fighting a smile.  Let him chew on that.

His expression shifted, growing honestly concerned.  It surprised me, took me off guard, wiping the smile from my face.  “What’re they about?”

“
You
, obviously.”

“You know I’d never hurt you, Paisley, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say you hurt me.”

“Then what?”  His hands tightened around my wrists, listening intently.  “What the hell do I do to you in these nightmares?”

“You leave me hanging.”

“I leave you hanging.”

“Every night.”  Bastard.

“For the past several weeks.”  He was finally getting the point.

“So, as I was saying, as long as you make me come, I can take pretty much anything you dish out.”

“Suddenly, I don’t wanna do anything
but
make you come.”  He looked surprisingly remorseful for someone who hadn’t truly committed the crime.  I’d barely smiled when he lowered his head and kissed me.  Releasing my wrists, he tugged at the button on my jeans.

The button of my jeans gave with a pop.  His hands slid beneath the hem along my hips and began shucking them down over my ass.  Growling with impatience, he circled my waist, lifted me off the floor and sat me on the table.  Only then did he break the kiss.

“Lose the shirt for me.”  Grasping the waist of my jeans, he yanked them from my legs with one smooth draw.  Dropping them to the floor, he stared, his gaze steely.  I was wearing my lime green thong underwear; the ones I wore the day I fell in the yard.

“What?”

“I hate those fucking underwear.”  Reaching down, he grabbed them in both hands.  I opened my mouth to protest, but with a swift tug, he tore them in two.  “Oops.”

I glared testily.  “That was no accident.”

“Nope.”  Grasping the other side, he tore them again.  They fell to the floor between his feet.  “Neither was that.”

“Jake!”

“You have the bra on too?”

Tugging my shirt over my head, I arched my back, sticking my breasts out.  “Have at it since you’re in the panty tearing mood.  It’s not the same without the matching set.”

And he did.  He tore the thing in two.  Then stood there shaking it at me.  “You want to talk about nightmares?  My entire fucking band saw you naked.”

“I wasn't naked.”

“You might as well have been for all this covered.  You can see your fucking tits right through the lace.  You're lucky Carter didn't whip out his phone for a picture.”

“It wasn't my fault.  I slipped in dog shit.  Besides, the bus had left.  How was I supposed to know it was gonna turn around and come back?”

“Because of that little show you put on with Carter!”

“Carter kissed me, not the other way around.”

“Your fingers went into his hair.”

Ingeniously, I looked up from under my lashes.  “Well, you were acting so unaffected by everything. I wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

My bra fell from Jake’s hand.  He leaned toward me, forcing me to fall back on my elbows.  “You’re playing with fire, little girl.”

“And you’re picking a fight so that you have an excuse to do dirty things to me.”

A smile spread across his face, causing the blood to rise in my cheeks.  “I don’t need an excuse to do dirty things to you, Shaw.”

“Then maybe you need a little spurring?  You're still dressed and I'm—”

“Unfailingly impatient as usual.”  Sliding his hands beneath my legs, he grasped my knees and pulled me snugly against his hips.

“Just saying—it works much better without the pants.”

“In due time.”  Lifting my calves over his shoulders, he dropped his head between my thighs, and flicked his tongue at my core.  My head fell back, reveling in the sensation.

“Holy fuck.”  It wasn't the most delicate of exclamations, but what we were doing wasn’t exactly chaste either.  Jake Whalen…I wanted to pinch myself to make sure he was real.  It could’ve been another nightmare.

Lifting my head, I opened my eyes.  Steel gray eyes stared back at me, unwavering.  He flicked his tongue against me, harder.  I gasped and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.

Still, I refused to close my eyes, lest he disappear and Mr. Hyde take his place.  Not that Mr. Hyde didn’t have his own lecherous talents.  I just preferred Jake’s form of wicked.  He usually let me finish, and first at that.  I’d scored a pure fucking gentlemen.

Without breaking our gaze, he lifted his hand and pushed two fingers into me.  My mouth popped open, releasing my lip.  It felt swollen and ripe, mirroring my aching clit.

My climax came quickly.  Weeks of mounting sexual frustration released with a rush of spasms that had me flat on my back, my body a pool of quivering flesh.

Before I could recover, Jake grasped my hips and flipped me on the table.  I wasn’t in any condition to resist.  My body felt loose and unhinged.  So when he gathered my arms behind my back and fastened the second cuff, I was caught off guard.  “Jake?”