Indulge (2 page)

His fussiness didn’t waver as tears poured out, but his
struggling tantrum began to settle.

“Your daddy always told me persistence was a virtue.”

My scowl deepened. I turned, shaking my head, and walked
down the hall to Oliver’s room, aware I was being followed. I laid him on the
changing table, careful not to unwrap him until his diaper was on. My boy had
good aim, and I wasn’t going to be the target again.

“I can dress him,” Julia offered, browsing through the
garments in his closet. Everything in there had been chosen by his mother—all
white, which was impractical, and with not a thing suitable for the outdoors.
Nothing in there was ever going on him again.

“He doesn’t wear that shit. He’s a boy, not a doll.” With
the diaper firmly in place, I squirted a pump of lotion in my hand and massaged
it down his legs, bringing out his giggles when I rubbed it into his feet. I’d
been changing him since he was born, and it was one of the things I’d mastered
early on.

“What can we do?” Katherine asked, handing me a navy-blue
button-up sleeper she’d pulled from his dresser.

“Thank you,” I said, avoiding her deeper meaning. It was
a question I knew many would be asking, and why I’d taken Oliver and left when
I did. I had no interest in sympathy.

As I began dressing him, Katherine stood beside me,
covering her eyes then surprising him with peek-a-boo: his favorite game.

“He loves that.” I smiled softly, watching her continue.

“Oh, you’re nice to
her
!” Julia complained somewhere
behind me. “Just so you know, she wanted me to leave you in here alone!”

“Another reason to be nice to her.” I shot a quick smirk
to Katherine then said clearly, so they’d both understand, “And I’m not alone.
I have my son.” The last button was finished, and I lifted him back in my arms,
turning to face my sister’s sizzling temper.

“Well, get it over with,” I said, ready to listen to a
rant she’d probably rehearsed and an execution I’d seen her use multiple times
on others.

“I’m sorry,” she said after a long pause, surprising me
with her words. “Not because I forced you to open the door and not because
Natasha left, but I
am
sorry you were hurt by her. I’m sorry Oliver has
such a crap mother, and I’m especially sorry that I didn’t kick her ass out
when she ignored my calls to plan his birthday party.”

“Don’t go there, Julia,” I warned. I put Oliver down, and
he went straight to Katherine. She took his hand and led him from the room.

Julia placed her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed to
tiny slits. “I
am
going there so that you remember what she was really
like. She wasn’t sweet and loving, Logan. Maybe at one time to you—I never saw
it, but you fell for her, so she had to have done something right. I only saw a
bitch that pushed your buttons and spent more time with her friends than her
own child.”

“Watch your mouth!”

“No! Where did you go? You just took Oliver and
disappeared. We missed his birthday, and were all worried sick. Five weeks, Logan!
Really? So tell me where you went.”

“I needed time. You wouldn’t understand, and frankly,
it’s not your business. I called Mom before I left; she knew exactly where I
was.”

“What?” Her brows puckered with confusion. “That explains
why she wouldn’t call the police,” she grumbled.

I stood there, watching her. There was nothing else to
tell her—my mother was the first and only person I’d talked to that night after
I’d dismissed the staff and realized I needed to be nothing but a father for a
few weeks. I wasn’t ready to dive back into work just yet.

Julia sighed, her shoulders slacking. She stepped closer
and placed her hand on my arm. “Promise me you won’t leave again. I was worried…scared.
Oliver and you deserve better than Natasha, but now that she’s gone and you’re
back, what’s your plan?”

“We’ll manage just fine.”

“Not without help.”

What did she know? She was fifteen, for Christ’s sake. I
pinched the bridge of my nose, not ready to tackle the next steps right then. There’d
be no more nannies in my house, but I’d been at a loss at what to do without
one. It was what had kept me up most nights at the lake.

I tugged my arm away. “I’ll work it out. I’m not hiring a
nanny.”

“Good, you don’t need one. You need family.”

“She’s right,” Katherine spoke up.

I turned to see her standing in the doorway, reaching
down for a bucket of blocks. “Sorry to interrupt. I was just gonna grab a few
toys, but I want you to know I’d love to help in any way I can.” She rubbed her
free hand over her stomach. “I don’t plan on returning to work after Charlie’s
born. I’d be more than happy to watch Oliver during the day for you.”

My gaze dropped to the floor. I was surprised by the
offer. I’d missed too much time at the office as it was, but the thought of
leaving Oliver even with Katherine, whom I trusted just as much as if not more
than Julia, was still hard.

“What other choice do you have?” Julia asked. “Daycare?”

“I need time to think it over.”

“What is there to think about? Let her help. Mom also
said she’d watch Oliver on some weekends.”

“I don’t work weekends,” I cut in, my aggravation
climbing.

I turned back to Katherine as she spoke. “We can start
off with a trial period. If you’re not comfortable with me watching him, then
you can take him to someone else.”

Of course I was comfortable with the idea of her, it was
just…I didn’t know how to let him go. But before I could overthink it, I
agreed.

“All right, if you truly don’t mind.” It was the best
option I had. “It would mean a lot to have him with you. Have you discussed it
with Lawrence?”

She nodded. “He’s the one who suggested it, and I thought
it was a great idea.”

“I insist you let me pay you.”

“That’s not necessary—”

“I’m paying you. You’ll have a new baby soon, and with Oliver
there nine hours a day, you’ll deserve it. I won’t take no for an answer, but
you have to promise me one thing: If the arrangement becomes a burden on you,
you’ll let me know. I’ll understand.”

She smiled, visibly relieved. “I will, I promise.”

I felt the relief myself. “Good. Now if you don’t mind,
Oliver and I were about to have dinner…” I looked to Julia and her victorious
grin. “…alone.”

Chapter 1

Two and a Half Years Later

Alarmed

I
woke with a start, one eye peeking open, and
then the other. The morning sun was higher than I’d expected to see it. It was
Sunday, which meant—

Shit!

With an apprehensive frown, I ripped the blanket away and
rolled on my side.

The brunette snoring beside me looked as exhausted as I
felt. I scrubbed my hands down my face, sobering. I was able to better make her
out, noticing her mouth hanging open, hair knotted around her slender frame,
limbs stretched out. My memory was still firing up, but what little I
remembered was a night like all the rest: lackluster.

I glanced over to where my side table should’ve sat and
shook my head, unable to resist a small smile. The table was on its side, my
alarm clock wedged under it.

Maybe the night had been a bit more than lackluster after
all.

As my gaze wandered around the room, my smile curved up
into a wicked grin. The woman had stamina—I remembered that, as well as the
crazed lust in her eyes when I’d told her I was taking her home. She was up for
anything, and I’d made sure to reap the full benefits of it.

My gears began revving and my dick swelled, interested in
going one last round before I showed her the door. But that thought faded the
instant I stretched down for the alarm clock and checked the time: 10:08.

“Fuck me!” I muttered, bolting upright and jumping out of
bed.

Oliver would be home within the next hour—two, tops. I
ran my hands through my hair, shaking my head, and slipped on the pair of white
lounge pants flung over my favorite chair in the corner. I’d bought it
purposely for the bedroom, and it saw more action than the bed.

I slipped on the pants and moved back to the bed. “Time
to go,” I said, standing over the woman and nudging her shoulder lightly. Of
course she had to be a heavy sleeper. I shook her again, then moved her hair to
the side to get a better view of her face. She was pretty enough, but nothing
extraordinary.

How she looked didn’t matter the morning after, anyway.
All I cared about was making sure Oliver didn’t come home to find a stranger
hanging around—especially one with just-fucked hair and dark makeup smeared
down her face.

I’d never let that happen. Whenever I brought a woman
home, I already had a strategic plan in place: Every other weekend, Oliver
stayed with my mother, and I was able to pull an all-nighter with a woman or
two. I lost myself in time—no worries or pressure.

It was the duty of my trusted alarm to be there first
thing Sunday morning to wake me before sunrise. I would clear the house of
women and liquor, and always be standing tall at the door to welcome my boy
home. Obviously, that plan wasn’t working so far today.

“Come on, sweet thing, wake up for me.” Still nothing.
That left only one other way to wake her up that, sadly, wasn’t enjoyable for
either of us.

“UP!” I roared, my loud voice jolting my system into full
functional status, shattering any chance of peace my morning may have held.

“Mmm, not yet,” she purred, rolling over to face me and showcasing
a full view of her assets. She stretched her neck up and opened her eyes,
expecting a kiss.

Not my thing. I backed away, heading to my dresser. “I
have an appointment this morning,” I explained. It was a lie, but it usually
worked. I snatched a pair of paint-smeared jeans for after my shower. “Maybe
we’ll run into each other again sometime…” Normally I didn’t add a name since I
rarely remembered it, but I was almost positive I knew it this time and decided
to take a chance.

“…Casey.”

“Ugh, it's Macey!” she pouted, rolling her eyes.

At least I was close. It didn’t matter; I was over the
morning niceties at that point. I twisted back around to face her.

“Right. Well, Macey, I need you out of my bed and out of my
house by the time my shower’s over.”

“Oh, God!” she shrieked, scrambling up to a sitting
position and looking around the room for some clue she may have missed. Slowly,
the color drained from her face. “You're married! No, not again.” Her head
shook violently, her hands clutching the sheet tighter against her body.

I stood there, fully aware I was a prick for not easing
her worry right away, but I knew what was coming.

Her impenetrable gaze focused back on me, her bleak
expression morphing into an angry sneer. “Shame on you! You guys are all the
same.”

Predictable, as always. “Relax, doll.” My lip twitched up
in a smirk. “I am very much single.”

“Oh,” she murmured, a pink blush returning to her gaunt
cheeks. Her tongue peeked out, skimming her top lip. Her eyes locked on mine as
she released the sheet. “In that case…”

My erection grew as I watched her seductive performance. She
ran her fingers down over her breasts as her legs opened, inviting me in.

Unfortunately, I knew better. There was no time. “You can
see yourself out.”

She wasn’t taking no for an answer, stepping down from
the bed on her tiptoes and strutting toward me confidently. The morning-after
show was one I’d seen far too many times and usually played out one of two
ways, but the fact that never changed was that I always held the upper hand. As
much as women hated it, I never had a problem turning them away when I was
done.

“There’s money on the dresser for a taxi.”

She released a provoked whine when I turned around and
entered my bathroom, closing the door behind me.

T
he force of water hammering down over my
shoulders eased the final stiffness from my muscles. The club I’d ended up at
the previous night with Caleb had been a new one with an over-the-top opening,
and still I was surrounded by all the same faces—all except that of the woman
now scouring my room for her clothing. She’d been a pleasant distraction from
the monotony of the evening, but as with all the rest, my curiosity about her
was sated.

The predictable creak of the bathroom door sounded around
me as I massaged soap into my scalp. After a quick rinse of my head, I opened
my eyes, watching her climb in and shut the shower door.

She gave a sweet-but-far-from-innocent smile, judging by
the mischievous gleam in her eye. “I can help,” she offered.

She reached for the bar of soap resting on the ledge and
lathered it in her hands. I waited, a smirk growing, pleased that like all the
others before her, she was eager to make sure I had my fill. Her eyes held mine
as she encased my solid erection in her soapy hands and began stroking.

Her tongue peeked out, tracing along her lips as she
rinsed the soap away under the spray. A slow smile emerged on her lips and I
knew exactly what she was thinking—what she wanted.

“Show me what that pretty mouth can do,” I said.

She stooped down on her knees and held my cock firm in
her hand. Her tongue swirled around the head a few times, firing my senses to
life, before gliding down and swirling around the base. Another lap back up caused
my hips to nudge forward, urging her to take me in.

She pulled her gaze from my cock and looked up at me
through long, dark lashes before opening her mouth and plunging down over my dick,
skimming it over the roof of her mouth. She sucked hard before popping her
mouth open and drawing it in again.

Her hand gripped my thigh, digging into the skin while
she moved her other hand to the base of my cock, stroking me for added
pleasure. I threaded my fingers into her hair, thrusting my hips forward and
taking full power.

Her ravishment grew wild, her hand pumping and her mouth
taking me deeper, over and over. Her head bobbed frantically. The girl knew
what she was doing; she was damn near a pro.

A breath hissed from my lips. “Fuck,” I ground out when
she scraped her teeth down gently, then slid her tongue back over the sensitive
flesh.

I slammed my eyes shut, focusing on the vibrations of her
lips humming over my hard cock, nearing release. Her mouth moved faster,
rougher. I grasped handfuls of her hair tightly with both hands, holding her
lips in place suctioned at the base of my cock as its shaft pumped into the
back of her throat.

A rough, gratified moan tore from my throat, clearing
away any lingering stress in my thoughts. My mind was wiped clean as I lost myself
in the feeling of her warm lips milking me into my morning release.

“
S
o, will I see you again?” Macey asked, her voice
hesitant. She was bent around, attempting to zip her tiny black dress from last
night. I stepped behind her in two long strides, my fingers grabbing the zipper
and making quick work of it with a single flick of my wrist.

“I don’t think so.” I pulled on my jeans, buttoned them,
then grabbed my T-shirt: a simple white one, ready to be demolished by Oliver’s
wild painting skills.

The room was eerily quiet all of a sudden. Her movements
stilled, and heavy tension hung around us.

I sucked in a rapid breath then quickly released it in a
sigh, hating that she was going to be one of those women who tried to guilt
trip me. I should’ve seen it coming.

When I chanced a glance over at her, her shoulders were
deflated, hands kneading together. Based on the thick crease over her brow, I
knew she was searching for her next words.

“Last night was fun—let’s leave it at that,” I said
casually, taking her hands and placing a kiss on the top of her left and then
right ear. “There’s nothing else here between us. There never will be. That’s
not what last night or this morning was about.”

She regarded me coolly. “Right.” She swallowed, and a
flash of disappointment crossed her features.

Shit, she’d been holding out hope. How had I not noticed
that when I picked her up? I could’ve sworn she’d known what I was providing: pleasure
and mutual satisfaction for the night.

I was off my game lately with seeing the slice of hope
some women held. I’d made a point to avoid those women before. I may have been
an insensitive prick to some, but at least I wasn’t cruel enough to lead them
on.

The smallest trace of a smile highlighted her lips, and I
relaxed. She didn’t strike me as a stalker or clingy type. I couldn’t handle
another one of those women—they were irrational—but Macey appeared too refined
for such behavior.

I handed her the hundred-dollar bill from my dresser.
“For the cab.”

She held up her hand, shaking her head. “No, that’s fine,
thank you. I got it.” She snatched up her bag and shoes and fled from the room.

Relieved she was finally leaving, I started down the hall,
wondering what Oliver would decide to paint when he got home. He always
surprised me with what he came up with, and he knew his way around the canvas
well for not even four years old. My greatest pleasure was sitting back and watching
his creations come to life.

“Who the hell are you?” The familiar snarl of Julia’s
voice boomed from the foyer, halting me in my tracks.

I held my breath, pleading with the universe that Oliver
wasn’t with her. My mother always brought him home so she could spend some
extra time with us, but there was a chance Julia would bring him if something had
changed.

Oliver had never witnessed a woman sneaking from my bed,
because I’d never allow that to happen. He needed to be a believer, and grow up
looking for the woman who’d love and support him. It was one of the reasons I
considered myself lucky he spent time with Katherine while I worked: He saw a
beloved wife, and when she was with Lawrence, Oliver had the privilege of seeing
how it was supposed to be. I didn’t want him to accept my single status as the
norm. I wished for him to grow up and not only adore women, but find the one
woman to love.

I personally stopped at the adoring part, taking a brief
hands-on approach before releasing women back into nature for someone interested
in taming. I was just as wild, and not interested in being restrained.