Evolve Series Box Set (101 page)

“Mattress in plastic is fine,” I pipe in, “but no used or returned crib, so let’s see the overstocks.”

Emmett’s eyes bulge and she scrunches her eyebrows at me. “Be nice,” she mouths.

How was I not nice?

“We have the—”

“Too high,” I comment. “Baby’d be practically in the air.”

“Okayyy, how about this one? It’s—”

“Too low. Mama’s a shorty. She’d fall over the edge on top of the baby.”

“What about—”

“What about that one?” I point. “Em, you like that one?”

“Oh, me?” She glowers at me, muttering under her breath something about her being able to make a decision. “Which one?”

“This one,” I walk over and tap my finger on the box, “the Marlowe Sleigh Crib.”

“Sawyer,” she leans into me and whispers, “it’s four hundred dollars! At a resale shop!”

“So? That seems reasonable, babe.”

“My budget for a crib is $175 max,” she clips.

“That’s when it was your budget. Now it’s our budget, which we’ve discussed. Now do you like this one or not?”

“Of course I do; it’s beautiful. But that leaves more than half for you to pay. That’s not fair, and too much.”

“Come here.” I snag her and drag her into me, surrounding that teeny frame with my own very large one. “I sold my racing bike for more than I had in it, so I have some extra cash. If you love that crib, I want to buy it for you, for Alex.”

“Why?” She tries to escape but I hold her even tighter, denying her. “You love to race.”

“I don’t love anything inanimate, and I far from love racing, but I do love you,” I dip my head and speak to her stomach, “and you. So why would I need bullshit races? They just filled a void until I found you.”

She’s speechless, and that includes insta-watery eyes, so I take charge—which started the minute we walked through the door—in case anyone was still unsure.

“We’ll take the Marlowe Sleigh and one wrapped mattress.” I smile at the saleswoman.

“Fabulous!” she says happily. “Let’s go to the front to check out. I’ll have someone bring them up.”

“Oh,” I stop short, “we’re in Mama’s car; it’s never gonna fit. Do you deliver?”

“Certainly, for a fifty dollar fee.”

“Ring ‘er up,” I say, turning my attention back to Em. “Mad?”

“No, I just think—”

I cut her off with a chaste kiss. “No’s enough.”

I feel great, like I’m really a part of things, so it really can’t be helped when I dip her in the middle of the store and kiss the breath from her. Her face is pink with embarrassment when I raise her back up.

“I love you, Emmett.”

“I love you too,” she simpers, pretending to straighten her hair back in place.

“And that crib kicks ass!” I stick out my tongue and wave “rock on” hands, not a bit fucking ashamed that my baby got the coolest pad in the land.

***

“Motherf—”

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Emmett asks from the doorway, sneaking up behind me.

“This crib! I swear to God there’re parts missing and there’s subliminal messages in the directions. It can’t possibly be this hard.”

“Why don’t you take a break? I have to get to work and don’t want to have to worry about you blowing a blood vessel. Specifically,” she points, “one of those pulsing out of your forehead right now.”

“You don’t work tonight.” I should know, I make the schedule.

“I do now. Laney called me because your phone is in there on the counter and Dane couldn’t get you. Austin and Jessica have both called in sick tonight.” She grins and gives me an exaggerated wink. “Interesting development, I’d say, but that puts them way short, so I said I’d go in.”

I know Emmett, and she won’t turn down the extra money, so that means I’m going in too. Like hell my woman’s walking around a bar while I sit at home. “What time did you say we’d be there?”

“We? I didn’t volunteer you.”

“If Austin’s out, somebody’s got to run the music. Nobody else knows how to do that.”

So that’s a little white lie. Several know how, but I don’t want her to think I’m going to “keep an eye on her.” Women tend to get all shrieky about that shit, a.k.a. I’ve seen Laney do it a hundred times.

“As soon as possible was assumed, I think, so I guess you better get ready.” She turns and hurries in the bathroom. “I need ten minutes!” she calls.

I’m ready now, so I use the time to stare, dumbfounded, at the instructions again. I refuse to ask one of the guys for help, but damn…good thing I have a while. Maybe there’s a hotline you can call, 1-888-Sure Feel Better About Putting My Baby in Here if I Used Every Screw?

“You ready?” She appears back in the doorway and I let the pamphlet fall from my hand, mouth agape with an audible groan.

“New outfit?”

She surveys herself, looking down at the two sizes too small pink shorts with a white tie at the waist and a tight white t-shirt; an outfit guaranteed to rake in the tips. “Not at all, why?”

“You’re a walking wet dream. I’d have remembered that outfit.” I’m flicking my tongue ring on the inside of my bottom teeth, trying not to go crazy on her and demand she change. Women get shrieky bout that shit too.

“I know the t-shirt’s snug, but they all are these days. And the shorts,” she tugs at the bottom of them, trying to miraculously create more material, “it gets so hot in there, you know? But I could change.”

Hold up. Does this ever really happen, the girl offers to change rather than throw a shit fit that you said anything?

The Crew girls had not prepared me for this reaction.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in is perfect, Em. We’ll get ya some bigger shirts tomorrow.”

CHAPTER 20

Save the Last Song

***Sawyer***

The club’s packed when we get there, mostly because ladies drink for a dollar all night. Dane’s behind the bar, so of course there’s a line, and what the hell are we listening to? Is that house music? 

“Babe, come back out here with me a sec.” I cinch her hand, ensuring she stays with me, and go back to the door. “Sheldon,” I call him over to me, “twenty more guys, okay? There are plenty of girls inside. Then max it out and come in to bounce.”

“You got it.” He gives Emmett the once over and smiles. “Hey, Emmett.”

“Hey, how’d you do?”

“Eighty-four!” He beams, giving my mama a knuckle bump.

“Oh yay! The man’s a genius!” She giggles.

“K, get inside, Shel, we need ya, man.” I grimace slightly, pulling Emmett back with me. “What was that?”

“He was nervous about a big exam. Sounds like he nailed it. What was that?” She crinkles up her face and puffs out her chest, bowing and flexing her arms, badly mocking me, I think. “You jealous?”

“No,” I scoff, shaking my head like it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. “No.”

“Good,” she loops her arm through mine, “’cause that would be a major waste of your time.”

“Uh huh,” I mumble. “Ok, so Dane’s not fast enough behind the bar for dollar night. I’ll pull Kasey behind the bar, put Dane and Sheldon on the floor, you and Darby on tables, and I’ll get the music. Sounds right, right?”

“So smart.” She reaches up on her toes, her short legs begging me to bend to her, which I do, gathering her delicious kiss. “K, I’m gonna get out there. Later, babe.” She finger waves, walking away.

I’m burning those fucking shorts. Right after she wears them for just me one more time.

“Hey!” I yell at Dane, chuckling at the relief that washes over his face when he sees me. “I’m trading you out with Kasey. Shel’s maxing and coming in to bounce with ya. Cool?” He nods, removing a female customer’s hand from his arm and shooting her an annoyed look.

About twenty minutes later, I finally have everyone situated in the most efficient scenario, so I head up to the DJ booth. The crowd’s thinned some, probably cause of this shitty music, but I’m not opening the door again right away; a breather’s nice.

From this high perch I can see the whole club. I find and track my girl below, easily found in a sea of women, shining with a light none of the hoard could pray to possess. Damn, she’s quick; no wonder the weight I keep expecting to embrace isn’t quite coming…that butterfly can’t be caught, flitting around faster than any waitress we’ve ever had.

It takes but a minute to zero in on the table demanding the most of her attention; four guys and one girl, the dick munch in the plaid, yes, plaid, shirt the one who wants her. My fists clench, but I hesitate, watching it play out. Something tells me Miss Emmett is perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and my gut tells me it may just be very important for her to prove that to herself whenever the chance presents itself.

She takes their orders and moves away hastily, checking on three other tables in her path to the bar. When she delivers their drinks, she passes them out from the far side of the table from AssHat, never looking at him. The fucker’s mouth moves and then Emmett’s head flies up, eyes glaring at him. I watch proudly as she lays into him, one hand on her popped out hip, the other holding up one finger and shaking it at him, a sure tell.  She talks a mile a minute, then takes that one shaking finger and gives him smartass duck lips as she flicks it to point right at me.

Hey, fucker. I wave and watch his eyes bulge. Emmett covers her mouth, I assume laughing at his dumb ass, and looks up at me.

“Come ‘ere,” I mouth, crooking my finger at her.

In the sexiest saunter possible, she makes her way to me, climbing the steps to the raised platform, shutting the door behind her.

“What’d he say?” I snarl.

“The last thing was, ‘oh shit, sorry.’” She giggles. “You look big even way up here.”

I swivel my chair, turn fully forward, and jut out one thigh, patting it. “I think you earned a break.”

The zing in the air can’t be mistaken and she feels it too, her eyes growing hungry. She swallows hard before she climbs on my lap, her back to my chest. I spin us back to the front now, looking down and out at the whole club. “Flip the green button,” I whisper in her ear, reaching up the back of her shirt and unhooking her bra. “Now the yellow one.”

“Sawyer, wh-what are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Want you.”

The club lights are low now, the floor runners providing the only glow. I curl my arms around her waist and pull the bow on her shorts loose. “Any special requests?” I ask, pushing her shorts and panties down, which she automatically helps me with, hoisting herself up.

“Hmm?” she hums in question, letting her head fall back to rest on my shoulder.

“You wanna pick a song?” I clasp her hand and move it to the mouse, spreading her fingers by lacing my own over and through them. “On the screen, love,” I say, focusing her attention. “Anything you want to be fucked to?”

She gasps, looking back at me. “Here?”

I nod. “Here.”

“Sawyer, I don’t know,” she chews her bottom lip nervously and glances frantically in every direction.

“You do know,” I nibble on her neck, up to her ear. “You know you want it too, right here, right now.”

Without another word, lust and determination both glazing over her eyes, baby girl stands to lean on the ledge, searching out her jam while I flick open each button of my fly. “Motivation” starts to play as she sways her naked ass to and fro, right in front of me. Fuck, it’s sexy. I could watch her do that all night, if not for the insistence of my throbbing, rock hard dick. I rip down my jeans and briefs, then pull back on her hips. “Come ‘ere and sit on this.” The demand thunders from my throat, but she has plans of her own.

She twirls around and lifts one leg, pushing my chair back with her foot. Dropping down to her knees in the space between me and the desk, her angelic face tips up to me. “You ever had a blow job in the booth?”

I shake my head no slowly. “But I’m about to.” I wink and grin at her. “You’re gonna suck it for me, aren’t ya?”

“Yes,” she breathes, head bowing to lick me from root to tip.

I cry out when she sticks the pointed end of her tongue into the hole in my dick—never had it like that—love it. “Good girl.” I fist her long, dark hair. “Suck me deep, baby, run that tongue up and down that big vein.”

Oh, she heard me, doing exactly what I asked.

“Now grab my balls, Em, hard,” I direct, that small hand complying immediately. “You’re such a good fucking girl.” I push her head down, testing her limits.

She resets herself higher up on her knees and bears down, moaning and slurping as she eats my dick like she’s starving, rolling my balls as my cock seeks her fucking tonsils.

It feels so goddamn good, but I’m not ready to come, so I reach under her shoulders as Somo starts singing for her to “Ride.” I’m a fool for ending the euphoria, but her pussy’s even better. “Enough. Get up here, baby. I wanna come in you.”

I wrap one hand around the base of my throbbing cock and with the other twirl one finger, “turn around.” Emmy likes the sound of that, teeth tugging on her bottom lip, but still looking around hesitantly at the outline of bodies entwining in dance below, knowing they might be able to see us. I see the resolve, then hunger, move back into her eyes before she spins around seductively. Her body searches for me as I guide myself into my reverse cowgirl, the sound of her sweet whimper louder to my ears than the music. 

Goddamn, she may be the clumsiest stripper on the stage, but Shorty can lap dance like a champ, her body curling from head to ass in one fluid movement, the hard snap of her hips jerking my dick inside her to the beat of the song. She fucks gracefully, cupping her own large breasts under her shirt as she seductively dances on top of me, up and down my pulsing length, swirling, moaning, panting for both of us.

“How many, songs, uh, you give me?” I pant, trying to still her gyrations before I explode as her hot, slippery and ready, but still devilishly tight, body sucks me in further.

She turns her head, peering at me over her shoulder. “One more.”