The Client: Short And Steamy (16 page)

BOOK: The Client: Short And Steamy
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Chapter Seventeen
Leslie

W
e ate in silence
, and although the omelet was delicious, I was only able to eat half of what he gave me. I wasn't nauseous, but I didn't have my usual appetite. When I couldn't eat anymore, I stood, intending to take my plate into the kitchen when we both heard the door open.

Shit.

Paxton set his jaw and stood up, his eyes skimming me from top to bottom.

Bad enough that I’d slept with him, but it was pretty obvious – or at least it was to me – that I’d spent the night. He bent down, scooped up the jacket I’d draped over my file bag and helped me slip into it. “Let me handle this.”

My gut twisted into hot, slippery knots as I reached for my coffee so I could have something in my hands.

The woman who appeared in the doorway bore little resemblance to the glamorous creature featured next to Paxton in online promo shots. Although she was still lovely, she was too thin, her eyes sunken, face gaunt. I could still see the resemblance to Carter though.

Pale blue eyes skewered me. “Who the fuck are you?”

Before I could answer, Paxton rested a hand on my shoulder. “Brinke, this is Leslie. She’s a lawyer handling some issues we’ve been having...” He stopped abruptly and laughed, not even trying to disguise the brittle sound of it. “What in the hell do you care? You haven't bothered to show up for anything on our new album.”

I had to appreciate the skillful way he'd implied I was a studio lawyer without actually saying it. While I doubted she'd made the distinction when she finally did find out, she couldn't say he'd actually lied about who I was.

He moved past me and opened the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water. “Guess I ought to start looking for another backup singer. Raina and Leona can’t do it all.”

Color flooded her face, hot little splotches that rode her cheekbones and accentuated the hollows there. She was thin, almost to the point of skeletal with shadows under her eyes. She was still very pretty, but it was obvious she was no longer using drugs, they were using her. Using her up.

“I haven’t been feeling well, you know that.” She gave him an imploring look and ignored me. That was good.

“Seems to be a lot of that. You aren’t feeling well, Darla isn’t either. Kind of weird, how she had to have her appendix removed twice.” He shot her a cutting look.

I pretended to be enraptured with my coffee, not wanting to draw attention to myself. But from under my lashes, I watched Brinke’s face, saw the way her lids flickered, saw understanding in her eyes, and then something else.

“Oh, honey…” She smiled and walked up to him.

My temper sparked as she started to curl her arms around him, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrists before she touched him.

Brinke gave him a mock pout and then glanced over at me, winking. “He doesn’t like public displays of affection.” Sighing lustily, she moved back to the island and sat down, picking up his mostly untouched coffee and drinking it. Then she cut into his omelet. “It wasn’t Darla last year. It was Daria. I must have mistyped when I sent you the text. I was so upset at the time…”

She slid him a look, trying to gauge his response. He turned away, a disgusted noise escaping him.

I saw the way her mouth tightened, and then, for a brief moment, our eyes connected. The vitriol I saw there probably would have made a lot of people leery. I thought about Carter, how hurt she’d been by her mom taking off. I thought about Paxton, and how much he hated what he had to do. But I couldn't react to her the way I wanted to, couldn't react like the woman who hated everything Brinke had done to her family. Slowly, I lifted my coffee cup to my lips. Over the rim, I smiled at her.

“Just what exactly do we need a lawyer for anyway? Everything’s going fine with the album, isn’t it?” Brinke demanded, her voice going from cajoling to commanding.


I
need a lawyer because there are issues I want looked at,” Paxton said evenly.

The speculation in her eyes grew, and I could tell right away she was already suspicious. Not good. The evasive shit wasn’t going to fly.

“Licensing.” I cut Brinke off when she started to ask another question. Me lying to her was different than him doing it. “There were licensing issues early on in Mr. Gorham’s career, and I’m taking another look.”

“We do this every year.” She rolled her eyes.

“Sooner or later, we’ll get it to go the way we want to.” Paxton smiled at me faintly over her head. I could see the relief in his eyes that I'd spoken out.

“You oughta just let it go. You waste more money on the damn lawyers than it’s worth. So, there are a few songs that you got fucked over on. Big deal. You make more than enough to make up for those. Besides, lawyers will screw you in the end anyway. They are all a bunch of crooks and liars.”

I could feel my smile tightening.

She dismissed me and turned to Paxton. “Listen, honey, with everything that happened yesterday, I wasn’t able to take Carter out, and I want to make it up to her.”

“Do you think you can?” Paxton leaned back against the counter.

I eyed my bag and wondered if I’d be able to grab it, and make it out the door without being drawn into this.

“Don’t be like that.” Brinke waved a hand. “Kids are resilient.”

“That doesn’t mean you treat them like shit,” he growled.

“I had an emergency!” she snapped. Then, she stopped, sucking in a deep breath of air. “Okay. Okay. I’m not here to fight. I want to take Carter out today. We’ll go to the park, grab some lunch, maybe even find a different show out on Broadway.”

“Mommy?”

Shit
.

Paxton muttered something that didn't sound like English under his breath as a sleepy, pj-clad Carter appeared in the doorway.

Her eyes landed on Brinke and she rushed over to her.

Brinke, to her credit, leaped up and caught the child, swinging her up into the air. The smile on her face looked real and she pressed a loud kiss to Carter’s cheek. Even I could tell the affection was genuine.

“My baby girl. I’m
so
sorry about yesterday. A friend got super sick. Please say you’re not mad at Mommy.”

“I’m not mad.” Carter rested her head on Brinke’s shoulder. “I was sad for a little while, but Daddy and I had fun anyway. I watched the play online because I didn't think we were going to get to see it.”

“Smart girl.”

I wonder if Brinke had any idea what Carter’s statements said about her belief in her mother as a parent in general. It sure as hell didn’t say
good
things.

Carter started to say something else, but she glanced my way, and whatever she’d been going to say ended in a squeal. “Leslie!”

A moment later, she was running toward me, and I self-consciously hugged her around the shoulders as she pressed her face to my belly. “Hi, there, Carter.”

“Mommy! This is Leslie! She went to the fireworks with me and Daddy!”

When Brinke looked at me this time, there was an all-new level of hatred in her eyes. I simply stared back, working to keep my face blank. I wasn't going to give her anything.

“So, you went to the fireworks with them and are back here bright and early? Wow. You’re one dedicated lawyer,” she said, her voice full of venom.

“By the time we got back, the storm had settled in,” Paxton said flatly. “There were flash flood warnings and the wind was hell. Leslie used the other guest bedroom. Feel free to get all paranoid about that, Brinke. It’s your favorite thing to do.”

She continued to stare at me for a long moment.

Finally, she cut the connection and looked at Carter. “Come on, sugar. We need to get you dressed so we can hit the town.”

They started out, but before Brinke got out of the room, Paxton caught her arm and leaned in. “Carter, you head on up, Mommy will be there in a minute.”

Once she was gone, I pretended not to hear as Paxton softly said, “Alex is going with you.”

Brinke’s eyes narrowed. “I can spend the day with my kid without a chaperone, Pax.”

“Yeah? Since when? The last time you were alone with her, you got so stoned, you ended up passed out on the bathroom floor.” He took a step toward her. “Alex goes, or Carter
doesn’t
. Take your choice.”

“Fine.” Brinke rolled her eyes. “It’s better if she comes anyway. She handles Carter better when the kid gets whiny.”

Wow. Talk about mom of the year.

“Listen to me, Brinke. I'm not playing around. You
will
stay sober today. You won’t do drugs. If you get high or even have a single drink, I’ll know, and I’ll have your ass locked up. You will
not
do that shit around her. Not again.”

She rolled her eyes and jerked her arm away. “I know how to take care of our baby, Pax.”

I
didn’t leave right away
. It seemed a little too obvious to just sneak out right after we’d managed to come up with such a convincing story. I was torn between guilt and aggravation as I drank another cup of coffee, watching as Paxton busied himself with washing up the dishes.

He seemed comfortable doing it, almost happy to have something to do with his hands, although his gaze kept straying toward the hall and I knew he was thinking about Carter…and Brinke.

When he heard them coming downstairs, he moved away from the sink to the fridge, grabbing something from inside it before heading out of the room.

I heard them talking but stayed where I was.

Brinke’s voice carried, and I had to grit my teeth as she snapped, “I can handle it, Paxton.”

I had no idea what she was going on about, nor did I really care, but I wondered if she had to handle everything like such an uber-bitch. The part of me that felt sorry for her was getting smaller all the time.

There was a lower, softer voice, and then Paxton laughed. “Yeah, kid. I know you’re a big girl. Getting too big, if you ask me. Have fun, okay? Call me if you need me.”

They appeared in the doorway of the kitchen a moment later, and Carter trotted over to a cabinet, a backpack dangling from one hand. She waved at me before opening the cabinet and reaching inside.

“Gotta get my snacks,” she said seriously while Brinke rolled her eyes from the hall. At least there wasn't anything malicious about it.

Alex smiled at me and spoke softly to Paxton while Carter tucked a few things into her backpack. Her, I liked.

“You two have fun dealing with that…licensing issue.” Brinke gave me a simpering smile, and the snide tone in her voice rubbed me wrong.

Paxton moved back to the counter and sat down across from me, drawing Brinke's attention to him. “I’d invite you to hang around, but we both know how you hate discussing business. You just enjoy spending the money.”

“It’s just that you’re so much better at all that boring stuff, sweetheart.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed, and I recognized the signs of an old argument easy enough. She spun around, Carter’s hand in hers while Alex flanked Carter’s other side, already chatting. A few seconds later, they were all gone.

Paxton and I were now alone.

Seconds ticked by and he kept his head cocked, listening.

“Think she’s going to come back to try and catch us in a lie?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past her.” Another minute or so went by before he seemed to relax, and then he gave me a slow smile. “Licensing issues. That was fast thinking.”

I shrugged. “Not so much. I read up about you – part of the job – and I remembered reading that you had some issues with the first music label you signed with. It was the first thing that came to mind. I'm just glad she didn’t push for details.”

“She wouldn’t have. Like I already mentioned, business isn’t her thing.” His mouth twisted again and he looked irritated all over again.

Reaching out, I touched his hand. It wasn't a good idea, but I hated seeing him upset way more than I should have. “What is it?”

He twined our fingers together, rubbing his thumb across my skin. “Nothing.” He continued to stroke my palm, and after a moment, his gaze slid up to mine.

The heat in his eyes scorched me, and I started to tug my hand away. “I should go.”

Chapter Eighteen
Leslie


W
hy
?” He lifted my hand to his lips, kissed the inside of my wrist. “There’s no reason for our day to end. Not now. We've got at least half a day to ourselves.”

My heart leaped up at the press of his lips, flipped around a few times inside my chest, and my body started to go molten as the heat from his kiss spread. My common sense, however, was kicking me in the ass. “Didn’t we already agree this was stupid?”

“Yes,” he said amicably. “We agreed that last night. It didn’t stop us then. You going to let it get in the way now?”

I should. I knew that. But in the end, I just shook my head and reached for him. I'd never wanted anyone as badly as I wanted him. He grabbed my hips and picked me up, sitting me on the table even as I tore at his shirt.

His hands went to the hem of my shirt, yanking it over my head, and taking my mouth only seconds later. His lips were hard against mine, his tongue greedy as it swept into my mouth. We only broke apart to deal with the rest of our clothes, and then he was inside me again. There was no foreplay, no gentle caresses. This was need, fierce and primal. I clung to his body, wrapping my legs around his waist and matching him thrust for thrust as best I could without falling off the table.

The fire inside me was blazing, licking across my skin until I was burning. I felt the orgasm building inside me, relentless. His teeth scraped across my bottom lip and I bit his in return. I dug my fingers into his hair even as one of his hands moved between us. It squeezed my breast, fingers twisting and tugging at my nipple until the pain-laced pleasure sent me rocketing over the edge.

I tightened around him as I started to come, and suddenly, he froze.

“Son of a bitch!”

He pulled out of me with an urgency that left me floundering, my now-empty pussy spasming as he came too...on my belly. Semen jetted all over my lower abdomen and trickled down as I stared at him. It took my brain a long moment to catch up and realize what we’d done.

“Fuck,” he said, panting. “Damn it, Les. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I…”

I reached up, touched his cheek, drawing his attention to me.

“There are two of us here. I’m just as capable of thinking as you are, and I didn't remember either. I’m clean. I get checked regularly. You…?”

His face was still tight. “As far as I know. I get checked every few months. I…” He blew out a breath and reached up, cupping my face. “That’s supposed to be a thing of the past when you’re married, but…”

I didn't need him to say it. Instead, I did. “Brinke.”

“Brinke,” he agreed.

Despite the circumstances, I allowed myself to enjoy watching his ass flex as he walked over to the sink and grabbed a paper towel, then wet it under the faucet. He washed himself, and then came over with a new one. I shivered under his touch as he gently cleaned me. Neither of us spoke, but I knew he had something he wanted to say.

After he’d disposed of the towel, he came back to me and rested his hands on my thighs.

“The room we were in earlier, that’s been mine pretty much since my family moved here. My marriage is over.”

His mouth twisted as he said it, and for a few seconds, he stared past my shoulder. I had a feeling this was the first time he’d ever said those words out loud.

“It’s over,” he said again, shaking his head. “I’ve known that for a while even if I’m just now letting myself admit it. Brinke and I haven’t shared a bed in a long time. I would have been able to tell you for certain that everything's fine, but...” He swore and looked away. “We had a fight right before I came to see you. And…hell...it was habit as much as anything. I used a condom, but nothing is foolproof.”

I didn't want to see him getting down on himself. Covering his hands with mine, I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his chin. “Mistakes happen.”

“Yeah.” His gaze slid away and he said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I'll get checked again, just to be on the safe side.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

He sighed as his eyes slid back to mine. “See, this is why I insinuated you might melt. I really think you might be a witch. You do bad things to my brain.”

“You do bad things to mine too,” I replied. I rested my head against his chest, wiggled closer. His arms went around me and it was all I could do not to moan. Part of it was the way the golden hair on his chest rubbed against my nipples, but a lot of it had to do with the strength and safety I felt in his embrace.

The contact was doing things for Paxton too. His cock twitched against the folds of my pussy and we both shivered.

“I don’t have any right to ask,” Paxton murmured as he slid a hand up my back, fisted it in my hair. “I’m doing it anyway. Please stay.”

I sighed and looked up at him. “We both know that’s a bad idea. I really shouldn’t.”

“Agreed. It’s a bad idea, and you really shouldn’t.” He brushed his lips across mine. “Do it anyway.”

A
n hour later
, we were soaking in a tub that was almost the size of a small swimming pool, and I’d never felt so decadent in my life.

“I want a bathtub like this. I want a bathroom like this. I could live in here.” Water lapped against my breasts as I cuddled back against his chest, the heat soothing away aches and pains from spending a day wandering the city, and half the night under Paxton. I was in good shape, but all of that combined had been too much for me to get away completely unscathed.

Not that I was complaining at all.

He kissed my temple, and I felt his smile.

“You might eventually want a kitchen, maybe a bedroom.”

I shook my head. “No.” Closing my eyes, I sank a little deeper into a daydream that was going to end far too soon. “I’ll order takeout and I can fit a bed in here.”

He laughed, the sound low and rough and sexy enough to make my toes curl. Arms coming around me, he tugged me more fully against him. His erection pressed against the small of my back.

“And when you have to get work done?”

“I’ll dictate. I’ve got a headset, and I'll figure out a way to deal with court.” Wiggling loose, I turned around and braced a knee on either side of his hips. “You’re a smart ass, you know. And you’re raining on my parade.”

Blue eyes met mine. The only warning I had was his body tensing, and then we were moving. He grasped my hips, yanked me down into his lap. I gasped as he filled me completely. We rocked together, the motion rubbing my clit against the base of his cock until I cried out his name.

“Damn, that sound...” He pressed his face into the curve of my neck, his lips and teeth working at the skin even as he thrust up into me. “Say my name again.”

He did something with his hips that made his cock hit my g-spot and I had no problem calling out his name again as I came. This time, he waited until I was coming down before he eased out of me and grabbed a nearby washcloth. He finished himself off quickly, and I couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed that I didn't get to feel him come inside me. I was on the pill and he said he was pretty sure he was clean, but he clearly didn't want to take any chances.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke, “Raining on your parade, am I? I guess I should make it up to you.”

He lifted me onto the edge of the tub and, still watching me, he lowered his mouth to the curls between my thighs.

My breath caught and my body throbbed in anticipation. My skin was so sensitive that this was going to be almost too intense, but I wasn't about to stop him.

One slow lick and he had me open.

Another one had me arching.

The next one circled my clit and made me moan.

When he began to pump his fingers inside me, I closed my eyes and gave in, enjoying the ride.

A
fter a shower to
clean up from our bath, I made lunch.

He argued and I insisted. I liked to cook, and I didn’t get to do it for others often.

He finally relented and sat down at the table, nursing a ginger ale while I poked around to see what I could find. To my delight, the answer seemed to be…everything.

Somebody here liked to cook as well, it seemed.

I went for simple, because why waste time on something fancy when we only had today? There was some leftover chicken he told me I was free to use, so I went with a rustic sort of chicken salad, adding some walnuts and grapes, then pulled out some of the brioche rolls I found on the counter.

The best part was the potato chips – made in the microwave – and the look on Paxton’s face when I said what I was doing. He seemed to be awaiting disaster. That was fair. I hadn’t expected the recipe I found online to work the first time I'd seen it either, but it did.

When we sat down, he plucked up one of the crispy pieces and studied it for a moment before taking a bite.

The surprise made me laugh. “Never doubt my cooking skills, Paxton. Never.”

“I think it’s safe to say I won’t.” He grabbed a handful of the chips and dug in while I cut the sandwiches in two and served them.

We ate in easy silence, although every now and then, I caught him looking at me. It wasn’t hard to catch him, either. I kept looking at him too. He wore nothing but jeans.

I was wearing nothing but his shirt.

I was also wondering if it would be easy to sneak it out when I left. It smelled of him, and I wanted to wear it until the smell was gone. Then keep on wearing it, trying to remember the scent long after it faded.

You’re getting sappy, lady,
I told myself.
This isn't some romance novel.

A
lthough I didn’t say
anything, and neither did he, urgency seemed to fill us both.

I’d have to leave soon.

We were in the living room, in front of the TV, although it wasn’t on. Nothing was more interesting than what I was looking at.

He sat on the couch while I sprawled between his thighs. His head was thrown back, and his eyes were closed while I slid my hands and lips across his firm torso. I could spend hours just exploring him.

When I finally reached his cock, I closed my hand around it and stroked up, learning the feel of him, the weight. He was thick, and the silken smooth skin stretched over the length of him. Hungry for him, I licked my lips and looked up.

He was staring at me through slitted eyes. I smiled at him, and leaned forward, pressing my lips to the crown of his cock.

“Do it like you mean it,” he said, tangling a hand in my hair and tugging me closer.

“Do what…this?” I took his cock in my mouth and begin to suck, moving up, then down in a slow, lazy rhythm that belied the hunger driving both of us. If I only had today, I wanted to make the most of every moment, and that meant getting to taste him.

“Yeah. That.”

I shifted, adjusting my pace until I found a rhythm that had his breath catching and a groan rolling out of him. One big hand cupped my jaw while the other tangled in my hair.

“Leslie,” he rasped. Breath coming out in rough pants, he arched up, the muscles in his thighs straining.

I pulled up, letting his cock leave my mouth with a faint
pop
.

He was up a moment later, and I was bent over the couch. There was a ripping sound, and then he thrust into me hard and fast. Two strokes and then he pulled me up against him, his hand arrowing down to manipulate my clitoris as he slowed his rhythm until he was barely moving within me.

He held me pinned to his chest, hips swiveling even as his fingers mimicked the motion on my clit.

Whimpering, I clenched down around him.

He turned his face into my hair. “Do that again.”

I did, clenching my inner muscles tight around him.

His cock pulsed inside me, and I gasped at the exquisiteness of it. I felt each ripple straight to the tips of my toes. My head sagged against his shoulder as he shifted his cock, rubbing against that spot inside me.

He bit my ear and demanded, “Again.”

We continued like that until we were both so ready to come that one more minute, one more
second
was too much to ask. Paxton grabbed my hips and lifted me up, pulled me down. Again, again, again –

I arched my spine and cried out as my orgasm ripped through me.

I
t was over
.

I didn't know how the day had gone by so quickly, but it the same time I knew it was time to go.

Brinke would be home with Carter in an hour or so, and I needed to be gone before then. Once I was dressed, we moved toward the front door, almost by unspoken agreement.

Paxton had gathered trash while I got dressed, dumping it down a shoot hidden behind a door I hadn’t even noticed. Handy. I really wouldn’t mind it at all, being able to afford a place like this.

I knew what he’d dumped too. All the wrappers from the condoms, the now empty box. Disposing of the evidence, as it were.

“I’ll walk you down.”

“No.” I hovered in the doorway, blocking him. “It’s better that you don't.” He started to argue, and I reached up, touching his lips. “It's over, Paxton. She'll be back soon, and if she says something to any of the valets…” I let my voice trail off, shaking my head.

Paxton snorted. “She treats them like crap. To her, they're invisible.”

“For some people, everybody's invisible until you want something from them. Let's not take the chance.” I gave him one last kiss before opening the door. As I walked away, I told myself not to look back.

This time, I actually listened to my own advice.

BOOK: The Client: Short And Steamy
9.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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