Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3) (20 page)

“Do you trust me, Shaw?”

I snorted.  “No, you beat my ass earlier.”

“That doesn’t count.  Besides, my intention isn’t to hurt you.  Now open wide.”  I did open my mouth—to protest.  Jake shoved something between my teeth.  A fucking ball gag with a leather strap on either side.  These, he pulled taut, causing my neck to arch off the table.  At the same time, he forced my arms and wrists upward, and fastened the gag strap to the cuffs.

Mother fucker.

If I tried to move my arms, I’d only pull the gag tighter.

Skimming his hands down my waist, he traced the curve of my ass, and then cupped it in his hands.  “You’ve got the best ass I’ve ever seen, Shaw.”  Sliding his leg between my thighs, he parted them, pushing my feet apart with the toe of his boot.  “One of these days I'm gonna fuck it.  Not today, though,” he amended when I tensed under him.  “Today, I'm going to show you how good it’ll feel when I do.  Call it a prelude.”

Sliding his fingers along my entrance, he parted my lips.  And then the satiny head of his cock was there, nudging into me.  With a sharp thrust forward, he entered me fully.  I moaned around the gag in my mouth, gasping over the fullness.  The feeling was a welcome progression of our foreplay.

“Holy Mary mother of God.”  Withdrawing, he thrust forward again with excruciating patience.  “How did I ever think I could resist this?  Jesus.  I was fucking deluding myself.”

Fucking ditto.

This was worth every ounce of frustration and aggravation I suffered over the past several weeks.  It was good enough to do it all over again.  Lord, I was a glutton for punishment.

Drawing me from my musings, Jake slipped his fingers against my clit, circling the sensitive flesh until I was wriggling beneath him, on the verge a second peak.  Little did I know this was all foreplay to seedier plans.  Recalling his intent, I shook my head as much as my restraints allowed.

Slowly, his thumb entered my anus.  Oh fuck.  I forced myself to relax, grasping onto the orgasm skirting my reach.  Panting, I bit into the rubber ball between my teeth.

“Good girl,” Jake praised, pushing in a little farther.  Every few thrusts of his cock, he teased me with his thumb until I grew accustomed to his touch.  Then, his strokes grew progressively harder, deeper.  “So fucking good.”

Surprising me, he withdrew his thumb.  Ok.  That wasn’t bad.  A prelude.  He’d kept to his word.  Piece of cake.  Painless.  Not altogether uncomfortable.  I survived.

Something smooth and slightly cool circled me.  Definitely not a thumb.  Jake started to push it into me.  I sucked a sharp breath through my nose.  He backed it out, then slowly began to push it in again.  This time, he didn’t stop.  While thrusting hard into me with his cock, the pressure grew against my ass.  With a soft recoil, it entered me completely.  I gasped over the odd intrusion.  It wasn’t completely unwelcome, creating a forbidden pleasure.

“Holy fuck, Shaw,” Jake panted, thrusting furiously now.  “My God, I’m gonna come.”  Reaching between my thighs, his fingers found my clit and began circling it in a bid to meet him at the end.  “Come for me!  Now!  Fucking come for me!”

I moaned against my gag, all but biting the thing in two.

“Fuck.  Fuck.  Fuck.”  Completely lost, Jake’s cock grew harder, longer.  Suddenly, I could feel the wave cresting inside me.  Each clap of his hips jostled the plug in my ass.  The sensation began to grow welcome.  I found myself angling my hips to enhance it.

My cries were cut off by my orgasm, which rendered me momentarily silent.  My body seized, racked with pleasure.  I was in heaven.  I was in hell.  I wanted it to last forever.  I needed it to end.  Tears leaked from my eyes as he stroked me past orgasm, drawing it out.  He was killing me softly.

Behind me, Jake’s hips clapped my ass with one final thrust, roaring through his teeth as he came.  I could feel every thunderous pulse of his cock, expelling his pleasure.  Only then did his hand fall still, releasing me from the torture of my orgasm.  Still, my clit continued to spasm, mirroring his climax.

For several long moments, we stood quietly, catching our breath.  I was ruined.  There was no question about it.  The night at the club together was no fluke.  Jake was divine in bed, and I mean unearthly.  He was a fucking god, pun intended. How did you settle for a mortal man after flirting with heaven?

Exhaling heavily, Jake reached up and removed the gag from my mouth.  It fell onto the table and rolled in a circle, leaving behind a small trail of saliva.  I found it somewhat embarrassing despite having a sexual toy down below.

“Fuck,” I said, resting my chin on the table.  I was sure I was going to have permanent laugh lines.  My mouth felt unhinged, and I was pretty sure I had drool on my chin.

“You ok?”

“I'm not sure, honestly.  I can't feel anything except my asshole.”  I managed to smile.  Jake's laughter did some unpleasant things in the aftermath of our exertions, and I made a noise of displeasure.  Slowly, he withdrew from both the main entrance and the backdoor.  “Dear God, that's a serious downside.”

“It's all good from my perspective.”  As if he'd just finished with some mundane house chore, he walked to the utility sink and began rinsing off his tools of the trade.

“You think you could uncuff me now?" I inquired, though enjoying the view.  He had a fine ass, and his cock was still half-mast.  His jeans were unbuttoned, and the head was peeking above the zipper, his prince albert nestled snugly along the underside.

I tried not to think of what this meant for us.  If there was an us.  Staring at him, I felt a familiar sense of despondency.  He was a rock star, after all.  It was in his nature to sweet talk a girl to get what he wanted, and then leave her behind.

There was no sense in dreaming about a future when, in the past, it always ended in a nightmare.  But it was so hard not to.  He was funny at times, and yet downright serious in bed.  Then there was the obvious.  He was fucking hot.  I mean, heartbreakingly sexy hot.

“I wasn’t planning to.”  Coming in from the laundry room, he finished drying his toys and then tended to me as well.

“You can’t leave me cuffed forever.”

“You’re easier to deal with this way.”  With long, leisure strokes, he ran the damp towel up and down my legs and ass, leaving a trail of goosebumps across my skin.

“I can do that myself if you let me go.”

“I take care of what’s mine, Shaw.”  Lifting me from the table, he turned me around.  I stuck my chin up defiantly, meeting his gaze.  “You just shut down on me again.  What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a bullshit answer.”  I’d expected a reprimand for that, but he surprised me and took a gentler approach by cupping my cheek.  “Did I hurt you?  Was I too rough?”

Damnit.  Fuck.  I turned my head, blinking away my frustration.  God, I hated this…this one sided conversation.  “No.”

“Paisley…”  He paused, searching, “What’s your middle name?”

“What does that matter?”

Jake shrugged.  “Chastening kind of loses the effect without the middle name.”

“I don’t have one.”

“That’s two lies," he warned.  "I won’t let a third go.”

“Fine.  I have one.  I’m just not telling you what it is.”

“Oh no no no.”  Shaking his head, he stared down at me.  “You have to give me one or the other.”

“You have no right to make demands of me that you don’t intend to return!”

“My middle name is Grady.”

“I don’t care!”

“It’s Irish, derived from
Ó Grádaigh.
  It means
noble
in Gaelic.”

“Fascinating.”

“You know, I’m sharing myself with you and you’re being inconsiderate.”

“I’m not telling you my middle name.”  Ever.

“Then tell me what the real issue is here.”

“I want to know where I stand!” I exclaimed.  “I want to know that this relationship isn't one sided, and that you’re not going to treat me like a pariah tomorrow.  Even if we have an agreement."

“I wouldn't say pariah.  A temptation, perhaps.”

That was it.  He didn't care.  I was just sex to him.  A toy.  A living, fuckable toy.  The one he wasn’t supposed to touch.  I was his temptation.  “Take these cuffs off, please.”  I turned and lifted my wrists as high as I could manage.  “Just so there’s no misunderstanding,
please
was a civility, not a request.”

“It’s not one sided, Shaw.  Not at all.”  He did as I asked and removed the cuffs, at least one of them.  Groaning, I rolled my shoulders, working out the kinks.  As I leaned on the table, stretching my arms, Jake began working out the knots in my back.  “Ok?”

“Yeah.”  On both accounts.  The physical relief of removing the cuffs was insignificant to the relief his words provided.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”  I didn’t want to be one of
those
girls.  The ones that were high maintenance.  Demanding a vow of love just because they had sex.  I didn’t need love.  Not quite yet.  But some small acknowledgement would be nice.  An
I like you
would suffice.

“Do I get to know your middle name now?”

“Not a chance.”

Jake’s laughter vibrated straight down his arms and through his hands.  “I like you, Shaw.  A lot.”

“A lot?”  I was allowed to wallow.  He said it first.

Leaning closer, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck.  “Enough to know your favorite color isn’t purple.  It’s red.”

A smile spread across my face, as wide as the sky was tall.  “I still like you more, but that’s a given.”

“I might be in a band, Shaw, but I’m still human.  Maybe if you’d quit putting me on a pedestal you wouldn’t be so afraid to talk to me.”

“Who said anything about a band.  I was referring to the sex.”

“In that case you can place me on any pedestal you want.”  He was still shaking with laughter as he pulled me against his chest.  He pressed a line of kisses along my neck and shoulder before pulling my tee over my head.  “As much as I’d like to discuss my virility, I need to eat something.  I wasn’t eating croissants and sipping mimosas all morning.  I’m starving.”

Now that he mentioned it...  “What did you order?”

“Almond Chicken, Royal Beef, Moo Shu Pork, Hulatang.  I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for.”  As I pushed my arms through the sleeves of my shirt, he lifted an eyebrow at my lack of lower attire.  My shirt barely covered my navel, and my underwear were toast.

“Guess I’m going commando.”

Instead, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to me.  “Leave ‘em.  I eat fast.”  Flushing, I removed my shirt and pulled his over my head.  It was marginally better, barely reaching the top of my thighs.  “On second thought,” Jake amended, grasping the hem of my shirt, “fuck the food.”  He tugged it back over my head in one smooth draw.

Chapter 16
 

I
s it Ann?”

Laughing to myself, I shook my head.  Jake paused his work long enough to watch for a reaction.  “No.”

“Lynn…?   Rose…?   Jane…?”

“I’m
not
telling!”

“Why?  What’s the big deal?”

“It’s not,” I lied.  “I have to keep some secrets to myself.  If I tell you everything up front, there won’t be anything left to hold your interest”

“I’m positively sure there will.”  Using the handle for the paint roller, he hooked the back of my shirt, and peeked at my rear.  “Oh, yeah, definitely haven’t lost interest.”

“That doesn’t count.”  I pushed the end of the pole away and went back to cutting in.  Somehow I got cajoled into helping paint his living room.  “That’s just sex.”

“Just…sex…”  The notion was foreign to him.

“You know what I mean.”

“I fucked you to tears earlier and you reduced it to ‘just sex.’”

“Don’t pout.”

“So much for that pedestal.”

For a moment, I had to stop painting because my hand was shaking over my laughter.  It was a little past one in the morning.  I was getting a little loopy.  “Stop making me laugh—you’re going to make me mess up.”

“Shaw, you’ve been bumping my ceiling since you started.  You’ve got the shakiest hand I’ve ever seen in my life.  The fucking walls are scalloped.  It looks like a gingerbread house.”

“Then why did you tell me to do the cutting in?”

“Because I get a great view of your ass up on that ladder.”

My mouth popped open, indignantly.  “You put the ladder this far from the wall on purpose, didn’t you?”  I had to stretch to reach the edge.  It was no wonder my lines were so crooked.  Between balancing on the ladder, struggling to keep my shirt from riding up my ass, and trying my best not to drip paint on the carpet, I was lucky I didn’t fall and break my neck.

Answering my question, Jake smiled crookedly, peering at me from the corner of his eye.  “I did no such thing.  It’s right where I left it when I was painting earlier.  I can’t help it that you have shorter legs than I do.”

“You’re full of shit.”  Climbing down from the ladder, I took a few steps back and inspected my work.  My mouth twisted in a grim line.  Levy could’ve done better.  “You know you’re going to have to fix it, don’t you?”

“I’ll hire someone.  I hate painting.”  Outed, he propped his roller in the paint tray and wiped his hands and the legs of his jeans.

“Why didn’t you hire someone in the first place?”

Jake’s smile faded.  He lifted one shoulder irresolutely.  “After what happened Saturday night, I thought the space might do us both some good.”

Well…wow… “And now?”

“Space wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Placing my brush beside his roller, I brushed an errant strand of hair from my face.  “I'd like to see Coop's pregnancy through.”

“I thought you quit.”

“I did.  I'd like to be there for her as a friend, without pay, of course.  There aren't any rules against that, are there?”

“Tate's not going to terminate your pay.”

“I'll refuse it.  I'd feel weird taking money from him anyhow.  Coop doesn't really need a nurse.”

“What'll you do to pay your bills?”

“Jake.”  Revealing the extent of my destitution wasn't a prime topic of conversation.

“It's a question, Shaw.  Answer it.”

“I have a few thousand to hold me over until I find a new position.”

“A few thousand.”

“Not all of us have the choice of following our dreams,” I retorted.  “Some of us have to
work
for a living.  We don’t get to sit around and bang on the piano all day for endless amounts of cash.”

Jake stared, affronted.  “
Bang
on the piano?”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly.  “That was a terrible thing to say.”

“I should put that gag back in your mouth.  It’s the only thing that seems to keep you from shooting it off every time you don’t feel like answering a simple question.”

“I can't help it.  I get snippy when I’m tired.”

“Then you’re tired often.  Maybe you should try getting more sleep.”

“I do get enough sleep; it's just not restful.”  Especially when he was waking me all hours of the morning all hot and bothered, and denying me relief.

“Take the money.  Tate appreciates your help more than you know.”

“You're ok with it?”

“No point in fighting a losing battle.”

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me.  I shouldn't be doing this.”

“Fine.  Fuck you, then.”  If he was going to be that way.  “I'll get my clothes.  You can drive me home.  Tell Coop it was nice knowing her.”

Jake grabbed my arm as I turned to walk away.  “Why do you insist of driving me fucking bat shit crazy?”

“It’s not
me
at all; it’s
you
!  You do it to yourself!  I don’t know what you’re so afraid of!  I’m the one taking the chance!  If things don’t work out between us, then I leave.  I go on my merry way.  You’ll never have to see me again.”

“And you’ll be out of a job.”

“Fuck the job!  I have nothing to lose.  If my funds run low, I’ll let Peter move in with me.  He practically lives there already.  At least he’ll be responsible for half the rent.”  Flattening my palms on his chest, I felt his heartbeat beneath my fingers, reminding myself that he was human.  “Jake, you’re surreal to me. You're so far out of reach, it isn't funny.  You have choices.  You have money.  I know you have the option of having someone a lot prettier and a hell of a lot richer, but don’t think for one second that I won’t knock you off that fucking pedestal.  And when I walk away, I won’t look back.  I’m old enough to make my own decisions.  Like the rest of the world population, I can survive on middle class pay.  I have for the past two years.  I don’t need a man to take care of me.  So stop trying to be the gentlemen and the martyr.  I’m not a fucking cause for charity.”

Jake stared at me a long hard moment.  Coming to an internal conclusion, he dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I'm fucking this up, aren't I?”

“Yes."

“I'm sorry."

“I don't want you to be sorry.  I want you to be sure.  You screw me over a second time, and you won't get a third chance.  I might be precarious, but I'm not a pushover.”

“Understood.”  Hooking the back of my neck, he drew me closer and pulled me into his arms.  “You're a fucking force to be reckoned with when you're angry.”

“Remember that.”

“How can I forget?  I think you bruised my kidneys.”

“Then we're square.”

Jake laughed softly and rested his head atop mine.  “I don’t think I could leave you alone if I tried, Paisley Susan Shaw.”

Bursting into laughter, I said, “No, it’s definitely not Susan.”  Paisley Sue…it was much worse than that.  My mother was brutally inept when it came to naming her children.

“See?” he said, tilting my head back.  His lips paused a breath away from mine.  “If not to stick around for the sex, then to figure out your middle name.”

“Indeed.”  His perseverance was cute but insufferable.  “Let’s focus on the sex, though.  It leaves both parties gratified in the end.”

Closing the distance, Jake pressed his lips to mine.  Slowly, he guided me backwards, toward the sofa.  Unfortunately, we forgot about the roller and paint tray.  I caught it with my heel, wobbled and tripped.  I caught myself before I could fall, but I managed to tip the paint tray over.  Beige latex began spreading across the drop cloth and toward the hand knotted rug.

“Smooth, Jake,” he sighed.  “Jesus, that was smooth.”

“Sorry.”

“It's my fault.  I walked you right into the thing.”  Pushing his hand through his hair, he glanced at the mess and then headed toward the kitchen.  “I have to get that up before it gets on the carpeting.  My grandmother will have a heart attack.”

“You live with your grandmother?”

Jake stopped in his tracks.  “No, she lives in an adult community, but she visits on occasion.”  Shaking his head, he disappeared into the kitchen.  A few seconds later, he came back out with a roll of paper towels and a waste basket.  “You were about to take delight in that, weren’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Whatever.  I love my gram.  I’m not afraid to admit it.”  Taking the first towel, he balanced the other in his palm and unraveled a long string of them from the roll.  “She’s a real ball of fire.  Couldn’t wait to move out so she could ‘hang with her homies.’  Her words, not mine.”

“When did she move out?”

“Last week.”

I couldn’t help it.  I burst out laughing.  “You’re lying.”

“Yeah.  She moved out a few years ago when Mattie went to college.  I’m on the road a lot.  When I’m not, I crash at the club, Tate’s house, and here on occasion.  The house was essentially empty.  She didn’t see any reason to stay.  It was too much to maintain.”

“Why the painting, then?  Are you fixing it up to sell it?”

“No.”  All humor faded from his expression.  “Mattie graduates in May.  I’m trying to have it done for when she comes home.”

“Sore subject?”

“You could say that.”  He didn’t seem inclined to discuss it any further, so I browsed idly over the room.  The place looked nothing like the typical grandma’s house.  My grandma had plastic covered furniture and carpet runners that were like torture devices when upturned.  This place was an interior decorator’s haven.  It was absolutely stunning, down to the baby grand piano angled between a wall of bookcases and another of family portraits.

“When my parents died, I was only ten.  Mattie was two.  It was hard, losing my parents and moving to a new school.”  He shrugged his shoulders, glancing up from his work.  A mischievous glint sparked in his eyes.  “But that was nothing compared to when I hit puberty.”

“I can imagine,” I said wryly.

“No, you have no idea—”

“You forget I have ten brothers.”

“But you had ten brothers, a mother, and a father to deal with it.  I had this testosterone and angst coursing through my system and no authority.  My grandmother was at a loss.  She had no idea how to control me.  I mean, I was bad.  Other kids were playing soccer and little league.  I was fist fighting, blowing shit up, and burning shit down.  I’m not saying she took it sitting down.  She argued with me until blue in the face, and gave me the belt when that didn’t work.  But at that age, I couldn’t hear anything that didn’t want to be heard.”

“So what finally got through to you?”

“She had a friend that worked at the FDC.  He took me to work with him for the day, put me in a room with a few of the inmates.  We had a little therapy session, the four of us.”

A snicker escaped me over the thought.  “What did they say to you?”

“In great detail, they told me what happened to pretty boys like me in prison.  And then one of them winked at me.”

“Oh my God!” I laughed, holding my stomach.  “That must’ve been horrifying!”

“Set me straight real fucking quick.”  Finished cleaning up the spilled paint, Jake looked over at me.  I had taken a seat on the piano bench, and was half leaning on the edge, running my fingers idly across the keys.  “Anyhow, my gram had a long talk with me on the drive home.  She explained that my behavior was affecting Mattie, and that as an older brother and man of the house, I was supposed to be a role model.  Then shrewdly explained that women had correctional facilities as well.”

“Jesus.”

“I know, right?”  Shaking his head, he stood and smoothed the legs of his jeans.  “I hadn’t been very observant of my sister until then.  From that day on, though, I did my best to help my gram raise her.”

“I’m sure you were a good big brother.”

“I wasn’t a saint.  I still had my moments.”

“Well, you were a boy,” I said understandingly.  “Even the best of them have their shares of skinned knees and bloody noses.”

“Gram knew that.  When I was with the guys, she tried to make sure that was my time.  I didn’t like to mix Mattie and the band.”

“Ah, the inception of the ‘rules.’”

“They were necessary.  Mattie crushed on all of them at one time or another.”

“Would the guys have really slept with her, though?” I asked, and then immediately recanted my words.  “Don’t answer that.  Forget I asked.”  Carter had allegedly slept with not one, but two girls of unknown age when they were on tour in Nampa.  Tate slept with most girls across the country.  Shane had probably been too drunk or high to make an informative decision.

“Do you see where hypocrisy, in my situation, could be subversive to my own principles?”

Frowning, I dropped my gaze, looking away.  I finally understood the intention of the conversation.  I had suspected that Mattie was a large part, but he’d confirmed it.

“It’s a moot point, now,” Jake said, noting the change in my expression.  “Mattie’s involved with someone.”