Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (26 page)

“I love you, Paisley Shaw.”

“Will you please stop saying that.”

“Never.”  Cupping my jaw, he dropped his head.  His lips poised above mine, barely a breath between us.  “I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.  I love you, Paisley Shaw.”

It wasn’t fair.  I could feel the press of his lips.  Taste his breath.  The unforgiving resistance of his body as he pressed himself against me.  The hard cut of muscle forming his shoulders.  The satiny slide of his tongue.  The undeniable proof of his desire.  All in the simple cup of my jaw.  Somehow, I managed to shake my head.  No.  “Jake.”

“Just a kiss, Shaw.  Please.  I’m fucking begging you.”

“You’re going to hurt me.”  It came out a whisper.

“I’m going to
worship
you.”  A tear tracked down my cheek, a sign of my waning opposition.  Jake caught it with the edge of his lips.  “Please.”

His sincerity snapped my weak thread of resolution.  I turned my head.  Jake took my mouth in a kiss with the heat of a thousand suns.  His hand slid into my hair, pulling my head back.  His tongue thrust forward, tangling against mine in a silent vow of veneration.

Our mouths warred with one another, stealing breathy gasps of air before waging a second attack.  Brazenly, his hand slid beneath the hem of my scrubs.  I grasped his wrist, breaking our kiss.  “I’ll beg for it, Shaw.  I don’t fuckin’ care if that’s what it takes.  I need to touch you.”

I opened my hand.

Jake’s hand shot down, sliding his fingers between my thighs.  My foot arched to my toes, opening myself for his taking.  He circled my clit once, sending a quiver down my body, and then delved lower, sinking into my entrance.  Pressing my head against the wall, I arched my back, bowing into his touch.  “Oh.  God.  Jake.”

“Quiet, Shaw.”  Pumping his fingers, Jake rucked up the front of my shirt and freed my breast from the lace cup of my bra.  His mouth closed over the peak, catching it with the edge of his teeth.  Not so gently, he rolled it back and forth, daring me to moan.  I sucked a sharp breath through my teeth.

“Yes.  Harder.”

Dutifully, Jake bit down harder while his palm slapped against my clit with each piston of his hand.  My orgasm came hard and fast.  My body shuddered, locking up in a spasm of pleasure.  Still, he pinched my nipple between his teeth, producing a delicious tweak of pain.  It was like countering the salty with the sweet.  My hands curled into his hair.

Gradually, as my peak slowed and ceased, Jake released my breast, swirling his tongue over my nipple to ease the sting.  His fingers teased my clit, evoking the memory of my peak.

Firmly, I placed my hands on his shoulders and pushed him away as my senses returned.  “Stop, Jake.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked.  Though, abiding my demand.

I had several reasons for making him stop.  It was a test; to see if he would.  He had the means to fully seduce me if he so wished.  A punishment; because I still dreamed of him every night.  And good common sense.  “I’m at work.  You’re going to get me fired.”  My tone brooked no argument.

“So quit.”  From the corner of my eye, I watched him adjust himself uncomfortably in his pants.  “You don’t belong here anyhow.”

“And where do I belong?” I inquired, tucking myself back into my bra.  My breasts were tender, oversensitive.  Even the brush of lace was too much to bear, and had me short-tempered.

“Behind a piano from what I hear.  It just so happens Coop needs a pianist.”

“What?”  He was talking shit.  I was indulging the conversation and he knew it, so he threw me a curve ball.  Or perhaps he was pissed I didn’t let him finish.

“Peter sings praises about you.”

“Shut up.”

“Hey.”  I looked up from smoothing my clothes.  “I’m every bit serious.”

“We can’t even get along, Jake, and you want me to quit my job so that I can work alongside you as a musician?”

“If the others can do this, we can too.”

“The others didn’t have qualms over working together.”  Fixing my underwear, I smoothed the waist of my pants and top.

“There, you’re wrong.  I’ve spoken with them myself, so I know they do.  We’re going to handle it the same way they do.”

“And how’s that?”

“Do you still love me, Shaw?” he asked in exasperation.

Dropping my head, I pinched the bridge of my nose, searching for inner strength.  He had nerve asking a question like that.

“It’s a yes or no question.  You shouldn’t have to deliberate over it.”  Unaware of the anger brewing inside of me, he quirked his brow in jest.

“Getting fucked in the ass doesn’t just hurt the first time!” I snapped, wiping the amusement from his face.  “Sorry if I’m skeptical in thinking it won’t happen again!”

“I deserve that.”

“Yes, you do!  You buy me a cat with questionable loyalties and a bunch of flowers, and it’s supposed to make up for you ditching me over my big brother?”

“Well, not exactly…”

“Then what, Jake?  What could you possibly say or do that would make me take you back, let alone quit my job and go to work with you?”

“I fucked up,” he confessed, his head hanging low.  “I’m sorry.”

“
Sorry
is something you say when you’ve tracked dirt on the carpet after I’ve vacuumed or when you leave the toilet seat up after you take a piss. Sorry doesn't cut it when you've ostracized someone who’s told you they were in love with you!  How am I supposed to trust you again?”

“I’m not asking you to do it blindly.  I’ll earn it.”

I snorted derisively.  “How, Jake?”

“Persistence on my part.  I told you I’m not giving up on us.”  Leaning in, he brushed my cheek.  The light scent of my arousal lingered on his fingers, a pale reminder of my lapse of willpower.  “Do your worst.  I’m not going anywhere.”

I’d done my worst.  I cut him out of my life.  Inside, I knew his persistence was already paying off.  Little by little, he was using my heart and libido as a shoe horn to ease his way back in.  “I need to check on your grandmother.”  It was all I could do to avoid the conversation.  I wanted to refuse.  I wanted to argue.  I wanted to knee him in the balls.  I wanted to spread my legs and let him fuck me senseless, but none of that would do.  It wasn’t the time or place to pull off the gloves and have it out.

“Let me drive you home tonight,” he said quickly.

“I drove myself, thanks.”

“Dinner, then.  Let me take you out tonight.”

“Alistair has a veterinary appointment.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I can’t.”  I had reruns of Ancient Aliens to watch.  “Sorry.”

“Saturday,” he pressed.  “I have a small event that I’m performing.  I’d like you to come.”

“What sort of event?”  There was a hard rap at the door, intrusive in volume.  “I’m sorry.  I have to get back to work.”

Jake stepped in front of the door, his hand on the knob.  “Saturday.”

My eyes narrowed.  He wanted to play that way, did he?  “I’ll have to check the schedule to see if I’m working.”

“So you’ll come if you don’t have to work?”

Asshole.  “Yes.”

“Saturday, then.  I’ll pick you up.”  Turning his wrist, he opened the door and stepped out, leaving me stewing over his duplicity.

Two could play at that game.  I’d volunteer to work if I had to.

In the hall, Dr. Baumann was speaking with Mrs. O’Connor.  Upon Jake’s emergence, he looked up, his expression disapproving.  More so when I exited the room behind him.  Fuck.  I was so fired.  Dr. Baumann was the Medical Director of the practice at The Village.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just find you in one of my exam rooms with one of my nurses, Whalen.”

“Before you go spouting accusations, Melvin, that nurse happens to be my girlfriend, and we were just talking.”

“Well, you must have a silver tongue because your lips are covered in glitter.”

Blinking, Jake’s lips quirked in a crooked smile.  He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth and glanced at it.  “I guess I do.  She agreed to go with me to dinner Saturday night.”

“I think I’m on schedule, actually.”  I looked Dr. Baumann in the eyes, hoping he would back me up.  “I don’t think I can go.”

“Do me a favor, Melvin, and make sure she’s free Saturday.”  Jake chucked him on the shoulder, obviously acquaintances.  “I have something special planned for her.”

Dr. Baumann glanced at Jake and back to me, mentally calculating.  “There are some patients here with prescriptions they can’t afford…”

Mother.  Fucker.

He was totally going to sell me out.

“Would a donation help?” Jake inquired.

“I was thinking of having a gala since the last one turned out so well.  You wouldn’t have to donate anything except a Saturday night.  One of your Saturday nights for one of hers.”

“Done.”

Pleased as a peach, Dr. Baumann smiled.  “Great!  I’ll be in touch.”  He extended his hand, locking it with Jake’s, a sealed deal.

“So three strikes you’re out, you decided,” Mrs. O’Connor said offhandedly.  Snapping my jaw closed, I looked over at the woman.  She was glowing with satisfaction.

“I never agreed.  It was complete blackmail.”

“You said yes,” Jake argued.  Dr. Baumann moved on.  His voice sounded from an exam room down the hall.

“You wouldn’t let me out of the room unless I agreed!”  I hissed.

“I did no such thing, Gram,” he said to his gram.  “I was getting the door for her.  She said if she didn’t have to work, she would have dinner with me.”  Lifting his shoulder, he grinned innocently in my direction.  “Looks like you don’t have to work.”

“You.  Are.  Insufferable.”  Jake crooked an eyebrow in warning.  I looked around.  People were starting to stare.  Collecting myself, I took a deep breath.  “I need to take your grandmother downstairs to imaging before her finger starts to swell.”

Jake fanned his arm.  I walked ahead, leading the way.  So I wouldn’t go.  It wasn’t like he could physically
make
me go.  I had a chain on my apartment door.  Even if Pax or Peter had a key, he couldn’t get past the chain.  I just keep it latched over the weekend.  Problem solved.

“That’s terrible,” Mrs. O’Connor said loudly.  “I’m so glad you’re ok.”  Coming up on my side, she looped her arm around mine and patted it consolingly.  As we approached the reception desk, she paused and looked up at me.

“Thank you?” I said, wondering what on earth she was up to.

“I’m not trying to take away from your predicament, but it could be much worse,” she continued, feigning a furtive whisper.  She was actually quite loud.  “That Camilla, there’s a video of her all over the internet with some guy named Wild Bill Hitchcock.  It’s…you know…p-o-r-n.  Unlike you, she wasn’t defending her integrity.  No, she was giving it away for pennies on the dollar.”

All work in the office stopped.  Not even a click of the keyboard.

“That’s not even the worst part.”  Stepping closer, Mrs. O’Connor leaned closer.  “Why, his penis looked like a head of cauliflower!  Do you think that’s contagious?”

From the corner of my eye, I watched the phones come out of people's pockets.

Chapter 22
 

“
I
t’s eight in the morning!” I complained through the chain on the door.  “What’re you doing here?”

“We have plans tonight for dinner.”

“You know I never agreed.  I was under duress.”

“Semantics, Shaw.  Open the door.”

“No.”

“Shaw, we’re going to be late.”

“It’s eight in the morning,” I repeated.  “Where the hell are you taking me that would make us late, Fiji?”

“Not quite that far.”

“You’re funny.”  He was kidding, wasn’t he?  I was sure that was sarcasm.

“Shaw.”

“Tell me where you plan on taking me.”

“Can you be agreeable for once?  No.  Nevermind.  Save your amicability for later.  ...Marshall.”  Jake disappeared, all but his foot, which was wedged in the door.  Marshall stepped forward and lifted a large pair of bolt cutters.  His arms flexed and the chain fell away like a length of ribbon.  I sucked a sharp breath as Jake pushed open the door with his foot.

“My house!  You
broke
my house!”  Behind me, Alistair hissed and scrambled beneath the sofa.

“I gave you every chance to open the door.  Now, are you going to come willingly or should I have Marshall carry you down the stairs?”

“You’re going to do all his dirty work?” I snapped at Marshall, petulantly.

Marshall shrugged his shoulders.  “He has to perform tonight.  It’s my job to keep him presentable.”

“We’re gonna be late!” Carter shouted from down the stairs.  Next door, the neighbors moved around in their apartment, making noises of complaint.  Much more and they were going to call the property manager.

Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, pushing it from my face.  “Give me five minutes to change, ok?”

“I’ll wait in the car.”  As Marshall’s footsteps rumbled down the stairs, Jake stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind him.

“Where’re you taking me?”

“I’d like to surprise you.  Is that ok?”

“How should I dress?”

“Doesn’t matter.  Everything’s taken care of.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means put on whatever you want for the ride there.  I have everything you’ll need for dinner.  A dress.  Shoes.  A stylist.  I just need you.”

“How do you know what size I wear?”

“Because your brothers made a copy of your key so that we could go through your clothes to find out.”  Propping his hands on his hips, Jake set his jaw.  “Seriously, Shaw.  We're going to be late.”

“Fine."  Heading back to the bedroom, I called over my shoulder.  “You're paying to have my locks changed and the chain replaced.”

“I'd buy all your heart's desires if you'd forgive me.”

Quickly, I tugged a clean tee over my head and slid on a fresh pair of jeans.  Because I didn't know where we were going, I grabbed my crimson leather military jacket and a matching pair of flats.  I figured it was safe, seeing that everyone else was wearing t-shirts and jeans.  Coming back out, I freed my hair from beneath the collar of my jacket.

“Funny thing is, Jake, you
were my heart’s desire.  Yet all the money in the world can't buy my forgiveness.”

“Paisley…”  Shoulders slumping, Jake rubbed the back of his neck.  He looked so completely downtrodden, I actually felt bad.  I wanted him to grovel, not break.

“I said you couldn’t buy it.  I didn’t say it was hopeless.”

Lifting his head, his grey-blue eyes pierced me.  “I love you, Shaw.”

“I know.”

Lifting my chin, Jake lowered his head to mine.  “May I?”

“You may.”  His lips brushed mine.  My God.  It was reverent.  Slow.  Panty wetting.  That gentle touch of skin conveyed a million emotions.  An apology.  A plea.  A benediction.  A demand.  Jake couldn’t suppress his dominant side entirely.  Thank God.

“You still dream of me,” he murmured, his breath a warm caress against my lips.  Drawing me against him, he provided proof of how much it turned him on.  He must’ve been chewing on that since he spent the night with me a week ago.  He hadn't mentioned it until now.

“Only once a night.”  He deepened the kiss, parting my lips with his own.  A year passed before our tongues met.  And then they were tangling together, endeavoring to strike out the past with a desperation that left us both breathless.

“Forgive me?”

“I’m giving it serious consideration.”

Outside, what had to be Carter, laid on the horn.  Torn, Jake took my mouth with one last kiss before letting me go.  “We really should go or we’ll miss our flight.”

“Flight?”

Grinning widely, Jake took my hand.  “A short one.”

“I think I hate surprises.”  Letting him lead me from the apartment, I pulled the door closed behind me.  Alistair's head was peeking from beneath the sofa curtain.

“Really?  I'm enjoying this.”

“That's because you get off on torture.”

“I
get off
on your reactions.”

“What if you just tell me what you have planned and I
act
surprised?”

“Not nearly as fun as the real thing.”  The rear door popped open as Jake and I approached.  Jake helped me into the truck.  “Take the back, Shaw.”  The rest of the seats were already taken.  Marshall and Derek sat in the front.  Shane, Taylor and Matthew sat in the center.  Carter was in the rear seat.  I climbed inside and dropped down beside him.

“Big event, huh?” I observed.  Every bodyguard beside Evan was in attendance.

“Don’t tell her anything,” Jake warned.  “She doesn’t know.”

“Of course not,” Carter scoffed.  “She wouldn’t be so calm if she did.”

“Why’re you even here?”  What were any of them doing here?  Jake’s performance was private, a piano solo.

“Sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”  Stretching out, Carter draped his arm along the back of the seat.  “So what am I supposed to call you now, Violet?”

“My name.”

“I like Violet better.”

“I like Shane better.”  Carter looked at me with disgust, while Shane turned in his seat, obviously insulted.  “You’re quiet,” I explained to Shane.  Shane was known publicly as the scourge of the band.  Having met him in person, I knew differently.  He was a good guy.

“Thanks.  I think.”  Befuddled, he faced forward.

Carter dropped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me into a headlock.  “That wasn’t very nice, Violet.”  Digging his knuckles into my scalp, he began sawing them back and forth.

Curling away from him, I reached between his legs and grabbed his package, just tight enough that he understood I meant business.  “Lay the fuck off!”

“No reason to get physical!”  Letting my head go, Carter raised his arms in the air.  All but the driver had turned around, watching us.  Snickers sounded across the cab of the truck.

“You touched me first.”

“But you touched my junk,” Carter complained.  Looking at Jake, he nodded arrogantly.  “She touched my junk, bro.”

“Funny you call it that,” I voiced.  “Considering the definition of junk is otherwise useless odds and ends.”

“Fuck you!”  Grabbing my head again, he tucked me back under his arm and began rasping my scalp again.  This time, I tweaked his nipple, seeing that he was guarding his junk with his elbow.  Yelping in pain, he let me go again.

“Here,” said Jake, grasping my arm.  He tugged me across the seat and dropped down between Carter and me.

“I can handle him.”  He was nothing compared to Peter’s corn chip armpits.

“I’m not worried about
you
.”

In response to Jake’s gibe, Carter flipped him the bird.

The rest of the drive was uneventful.  Less than a half hour later, we pulled into the SeaTac Airport.  A small jet was parked off to the side.  Derek rolled to a stop a few short yards away and shut the engine off.

“We’re getting in that?” I asked, sitting forward in my seat.  Holy crap.  A private jet.  Hautboy’s private jet.  Tate flew Coop to Vegas on that jet for a shotgun wedding.

My face blanched.  Jake wouldn’t, would he?

“Afraid of flying?” Marshall asked.  Sliding out of the passenger seat, he opened the rear door.  Matthew, Taylor and Shane slid out.  When they were out of the way, I took Marshall’s hand and stepped onto the tarmac.

“No.”  As the pilot lowered the stairs, Jake took my hand and began leading me toward the plane.  My hand felt suddenly small in his, as if he was a wolf leading a lamb to slaughter.

Following Jake, I climbed the beige, leather stairs to the jet and stepped inside.  It wasn’t overly huge, just enough to hold the band, their bodyguards and a few extra.  The cockpit was to the right, and to the left, another door.  The bedroom.  My mouth went dry.

“You ok?” Jake asked, looking down at me.

“Yeah,” I said hoarsely.  “Fine.”

“We’re running late.”  The pilot clapped Jake on the shoulder.  “You should take your seats.  We’ll be departing as soon as everyone’s buckled in.”

Taking a seat in the last row, I fumbled with the buckle.  My palms were sweating.  Jake reached over and fastened it for me, then tightened the belt until it was snug around my waist.

“Thank you.”

“You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah.”  I managed a weak smile.

The others filed on the plane, picking seats toward the front, and leaving us some privacy.  Were they leaving us privacy?   Why were they leaving us privacy?  Where the fuck was Jake taking me?  My mind began running rampant with visions of white dresses and shoes.  He even booked an appointment with a stylist.  He had everything I’d need.  I felt short of breath.

My heart raced with the roar of the engine, speeding as we barreled down the runway.  As the wheels lifted off the asphalt, I took deep breaths, gulping air as if I couldn’t get enough.  My lungs felt constricted, cut off of oxygen.  My ears began to ring.  The corners of my vision began to blur.  For the second time in my life, I passed out cold.  Everything turned to black.

“Paisley?”  The pressure of someone’s touch left my wrist.  Then, fingers were at my jacket, loosening the collar from around my neck.  “Give you a little air.  See if that helps.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Jake inquired.

“Just what you said; she passed out.”

“Why?”

Matthew, yes, Matthew, snorted.  I recognized his voice now.  Taylor’s brother.  “I’m not a doctor, Jake.  I was trained in basic emergency response.  I’d say she’s afraid of flying.  She hyperventilated and fainted.”

“She travels,” Jake objected.  “I think she would’ve mentioned that she doesn’t like flying.”

"Has she taken anything?"

"She doesn't do drugs, Matt.  She's as clean as they come."

“Could she be pregnant?”

“I’m not pregnant,” I mumbled, finding my voice.  “Definitely not pregnant.”

“There, you see?” Matthew said brightly.  “She’s fine.”

“I’m fine.  Too much excitement this early in the morning.  I was up late last night, studying for my bachelors.”  Sure my head was clear enough to sit up, I started to rise.

Matthew placed his hand on my shoulder, restraining me from doing so.  “Do yourself a favor and relax for five minutes.  I don’t need you falling and hitting your head while we’re forty thousand feet in the air.  I can do stitches in a pinch, but they’re not pretty.”

“How bad can you mess up with steristrips?”

Not too far away, someone chuckled.  Carter replied with a sharp retort.  “Dude, that was not funny!  He glued his fucking finger to my forehead!”

“It was a little funny,” Shane disagreed.  Their voices faded as they left the cabin, debating the amount of humor involved in the gluing of steristrips.  Matthew pulled the door closed behind him as he followed them out.

“What happened?” Jake asked, sitting beside me.  He rested his hand on my knee, as if anything else was life endangering.

“Can’t you just tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Is that what this is about?”

“Please tell me you’re not taking me to Vegas.”

“
Vegas
?  What would make you think
Vegas
?”

“Because you have shoes and a dress and a stylist.  And Carter's comments about being calm and not missing this for the world.  The plane ride.  And your gram…Jesus…she said you got a piece of jewelry from her.”  I massaged my temples, trying to dispel the thought.

“Is the notion that unappealing?”

“Jake!”

“It’s not Vegas, Shaw.  I’m not taking you to Vegas.”

“Ok.  Ok.  I forgive you.  Whatever it is you have planned, I forgive you, so don't do anything over the top.  Please.”

“You're really freaked out over this.”

Lifting my head, I glared with exasperation.  “You think?”