LUCI (The Naughty Ones Book 2) (7 page)

Caged

Luci

The sound of squeals and excitement penetrate my hazy fog as Cage leans down and plants a wet one on me just before he strides towards the door to let the girls in as he leaves for an emergency meeting he couldn’t put off.

I can’t say how any of the last four days really happened, but one thing that I do know is that I’m married, my husband is a tyrant, and my friends have all turned against me in the worst way.

              We got married two days after he announced his intentions and I have to own the fact that I wanted to cry my spoiled heart out when he brought me a white dress and I ended up married in a way that makes my inner Cinderella weep in misery.

              “Hey, married old lady. How goes the married sex seeing as you’ve turned into a McMansion overnight with those four bruisers in you?”

“Shut up, Indie. You try looking sexy when you’re rounder than a beach ball and see what that feels like.”

I cry a lot. It’s either hormones or fear. For now I’ve fooled myself into going with the hormones, but one of these days I may just crack and have a heart attack because we all know that it’s the fear gnawing at me still.

“What a whiner. Even Callie the crier didn’t have this much self-pity and she’s just a sad bag of emotions nowadays.” Percy giggles, ducking when Callie tosses a pillow at her head.

“It’s going to happen to you and I’ll be there with a freaking video camera when you start crying and going all female on our asses, you fraud.”

“Me? Cry on the outside? When it rains in hell,” she scoffs, bending down to kiss my cheek and rub my belly.

Callie snorts and follows as Indie and Dot fall into seats and watch me with narrowed eyes. Dot sees my panic and Indie is watching for weakness. Freaking predator.

“So. You got married without your gals, huh?”

“Oh Percy, give it a freaking rest already. You were busy with that luncheon at the country club and Cage wouldn’t postpone it another day. Next time don’t schedule things for my wedding day.”

“It was scheduled months ago. You were the one who booked it!”

“Whatevs, dude.”

Like I even care about that. I’m still miserable that I had to call the bridal boutique and let them take my pink princess dress off hold. Never cried that much in my life and I doubt I ever will again.

              “So spill. Was it a shitfest? Did you cry? Don’t bother answering that, of course you did, you big baby. Did he kiss you and make your toes curl?”

“Duh. You’ve seen the man, right? He could make a marble statue’s toes curl with the way he kisses,” I mutter, thinking dreamily of that kiss and the wedding night that followed.

He knows just how to touch and kiss and taste to make me go supernova, and apparently he finds me very appealing—thick waist, scary dark nipples, and all.

In fact, something about me being pregnant just seems to rev his engine and many a night we’ve fallen asleep in the wee hours of the morning after going at each other like rabbits.

Sheesh, my bits tingle just thinking about that man and his mouth. And hands. And okay, his dick too.

              He’s tall, has big hands and feet. You do the math.

“Oh would you look at that sex face! Is it that good? Is he that big? Come on, girl. Spill,” Indie yells, starting a chant till they’re all in a feeding frenzy for details.

I’ve waited years to have bragging rights and I’m not giving that up for any amount of false modesty.

“He’s hung like a horse, he has long fingers, and that stamina women only dream about. Let’s say I don’t do much dreaming these days,” I crow, smiling so hard I feel my cheek pop.

That sets them off again, and before I know it we’re comparing sex positions and tongue baths like a bunch of nymphos on the job.

We’re still cackling two hours later when the doorbell rings and they glance at me askance.

No one can get up here without a special card and key code, so the fact that there’s someone at the door is just weird. Indie’s up before I can pretend to even try rising and throwing the door open without so much as checking the peephole.

The sight that greets us all, because yes, we’re leaning over and staring like curious owls, is an older version of the man I love. I’m talking if this guy was just twenty years younger, he could be Cage’s twin brother.

“Well shit. Would you get a load of that hot fox,” Percy mutters, practically salivating as the man I can only assume is Fred Sr. walks in as if he owns the place.

“Freddie.”

Seems I was on the mark to assume my man’s family is a bunch of A-holes, because this guy? Grade A.

He doesn’t introduce himself, doesn’t even bother to throw out a casual hello. He just throws the name and stands with his back ramrod straight as if we lowlifes will jump to do his bidding.

“Whoa there, silver fox. Is that any way to come into a woman’s home and treat her? Sheesh, dude, the least you could do is pretend to give a shit that you have a daughter-in-law and grandkids on the way,” Percy huffs, making my lip curl at her as I attempt to sink down in my seat.

Yeah right, as if a whale could hide in a puddle of water.

His eyes, eyes so blue and similar to my husband’s, go round and he scans the room before landing on me with what I can only call a very unflattering sneer.

“He got married and knocked you up without getting our blessing.”

              Man, seeing this guy and his attitude just makes me love Cage more.

My poor Cagey Wagey. Tonight I am so rewarding you for turning out just a little human after meeting this douche.

“Uh yea. Sorry, Pops, but as you can see, we had to hitch our wagons on the double,” I drawl, stroking my belly for added effect.

              The lip curl makes my spine tingle but I hold it all in. I know how to pretend not to care, been doing it for years, and I see him mutter a little something that has Indie’s crazy eyes sparking to life before he sniffs and gives me his hallow attention again.

“Tell the boy I want to see him and I expect him at dinner tonight. Tell him I won’t stop until he sees me.”

And just like that, he turns and walks out like that ass he is.

Family Secrets

Luci

The moment we drive through the gates of the Cage estate and enter their world I feel as if a pall has settled over us. Cage is even tenser, if that’s possible, and I feel myself second-guessing this trip when he pulls up to the circular drive and cuts the engine, seeming to get lost in a world of his own as he gazes at the huge, imposing house.

My first instinct is to ask if he’s okay, but who am I kidding. It’s more than obvious he is so not okay, and his tension brings back the hour-long talk he and Woody had with me about his parents.

Apparently Woody met them only once besides the times that Cage Sr. showed up at Cage’s office, and he’d prefer never to meet them again.

I’m a little tense myself, to be honest.

“Don’t let them bug you, and for God’s sake, do not try to be polite if they’re rude, Luce. If one of them says a mean word, you cut them a new one. You hear?”

“Yes sir!” I answer, saluting him with a giggle I have to fake.

Cage studies me a moment more before nodding and leaving the car to come around to my side. He holds on to me all the way to the door and doesn’t bother to let go when a servant opens it and waves us in, welcoming us in a civil, cold manner.

“Mr. and Mrs. Cage are in the formal sitting room. If you’d follow me.”

Okay. Weird.

I’ve mentioned Daddy is a member of the peerage? Not even my grandparents, who can be snooty gits, are this pretentious. I’m gaping and craning my neck as Cage pulls me along behind him and I almost swallow my tongue when the man shows us into a room bigger than my old apartment and we’re greeted by my in-laws.

              “Ah Alfred, so glad you could make it,” the old broad says with false civility, making my hackles rise.

I just about crawl out of my skin when her corpse-like hands touch me and she leans in to air-kiss my cheek.

“You must be Freddie’s wife. I’m Deandra.”

“Luci. My name’s Luci,” I say softly as she pulls away and glances down at my belly.

I’m not in the slightest embarrassed because, let’s face it, I look hot in the baby-pink sheath I’m wearing.

What has me wanting to shrink into the floorboards is the look she gives my belly and the way her lip curls the tiniest bit. What a bitch.

“Mother.”

That tone and the hard look on his face say it all, and I watch as she steps back with a nervous titter. His father steps forward and shakes his hand, completely ignoring me, which pisses Cage off more.

“Well! I think we can adjourn to the dining room since we cannot, by any rights, have cocktails now,” she says, looking at my belly again.

Oh, but I need one. I need a big one, I think as Cage squeezes my hand and we follow them into the dining room.

Jesus, spare me.

No really, spare me, I think when I notice the two other settings.

I should know Cage better, though, because he pulls out a chair to the left of his own, seats me, and stalks to the opposite end to collect all my plates, silverware, and glasses.

“Alfred—”

“Save it, Deandra. My wife sits with me. Now, are we going to cut it with this polite bullshit or are we spending the next hour pretending that any of us actually want to be here?”

That seems to perk up the fembot and I see her nostrils quiver before she tuts and starts moaning about never raising him with such appalling manners.

“Don’t feel too bad, Deandra, since you didn’t spend a day of your life raising me. Blame the nannies and the school if it makes you feel better. Now, the point, old man? What do you want, and for God’s sake, don’t beat around the bush. I have a roast in the oven as we speak and a wife to care for.”

Old man Cage does not like that. I see as his mouth tenses and his nose seems to flare without any other part of his face moving an inch.

“I wanted you to come alone, boy, not drag this…this—”

“Careful, old man,” Cage snarls in a deceptively pleasant tone that has my nape prickling. “You say one wrong word and I’m done. You got that?”

“Oh, Alfred dear, do mind your manners. Dearest Luci is family now, after all. Aren’t you, dear?”

              “Cut the crap. What do you want? I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

              “I invested poorly last quarter,” his father says.

              Cage just shrugs as an answer and seems not to give a damn. I soon find out why.

“You mean Deandra went a little nuts with the shopping again and you’re still paying your two mistresses to fuck your cold ass? Not my problem, old man. You’ve been here before, and after you tried to steal my trust fund I warned you that I would help you once and never again. I invested your money for a reason and warned you both to live within your means. You need cash? Sell the house and get something sustainable.”

“But, but it’s the family seat!” Fembot yells in a tizzy, her immobile face hilarious, what with all the emotion I hear but don’t see.

Seriously, not even a twitch.

“Family? You call what we are a family? That’s so fucking laughable I almost pity you your delusions,
Mom
. The answer is no and be advised it will not change no matter what you say or do. I gave you money even after years of emotional neglect and after you tried to pillage a trust that was left to me by Grandma Cage. That was my one good deed and that’s done now. We clear? I think we’re done here, baby. Let’s go home.”

We’re rising when Senior decides to play a card he has no chance of winning with. Talk about holding a two when my man’s showing only aces.

“You think I won’t go to the press and tell them all about your little wife and her bastard children, boy? Would you like your peers to know that she’s knocked up with a stranger’s baby and duping you to get her hooks into your fortune?”

Cage goes so still and hard I feel the air in the room go icy and I cringe a little. Cage smiles a nasty smile and leans over into Senior’s face.

“These are my babies, old man, you fucking got that? Mine. You go near the press and blacken my wife’s name and I won’t only see you in court, I will personally fuck your shit up so bad, old Deandra over there will be mashing your food for you feeding tube.”

“Freddie darling, please! Have a heart for your family.”

My turn, I think, turning to fembot with a smile to match my husband’s.

“A heart? Family?” I sneer, letting them both see my disgust and disdain. “You wouldn’t know what a family is if one slapped your flat ass and showed you the fucking definition. Now understand me well, lady. Cage is my family. He’s mine and our babies’ and that will never change. He doesn’t need or want you messing up his life. You so much as breathe on him again and you won’t be mashing Senior’s grub for that feeding tube, you’ll be sharing a room at a facility. You got me? Come on, baby, let’s blow this popsicle stand. Say, you wanna go visit Mummy and Daddy before we go home? I heard her say she was baking your favorite cookies.”

I lay it on a little thick but it’s not like I’m lying. My parents adore Cage and his straight talking, no-nonsense demeanor.

“Oh, and by the way, Senior? I’m rich too and I have enough money to buy and sell you over and over if I wanted to. I don’t want or need Cage for his money, and why the hell should I when I love the man enough to live in a one-bedroom roach-infested hovel. Get over yourself and get a job.”

              Cage just smiles at me before pulling me out of the room and to the front door. As we leave and pull through the gates, I feel like we just came to an understanding that will sit as the foundation for our marriage. We have each other’s back.

“Well, that went better than I thought it would, Luci baby. Thanks for not decking anyone.”