Grinder (Seattle Sharks Book 1) (4 page)

Shit. Jessica? Jane? June? What the fuck was her name?

It wasn’t Bailey, and that’s all that mattered.

Her throaty moans were fake, but her orgasm wasn’t, and that was all they wanted out of me anyway—well, all they got. I focused on my own orgasm, trying to forget the way she didn’t feel right, didn’t smell right—and thinking of the one person who did until everything else faded away.

Getting her out of the house before seven wasn’t going to be an issue. She’d fled, yelling what an asshole I was about thirty seconds after I’d come.

Turns out her name was Joan...at least that’s what she’d been screaming at me as she threw her clothes on.

She yelled the entire way out of the house, and I followed, a blanket wrapped around my waist in case Lettie woke up. Joan slammed the front door and rattled the light fixture in the entry hall.

Just my fucking luck, Bailey came into the foyer, her hair a sexy, tousled mess, and her nipples showing through the silk of her pajamas. Jesus, were those shorts or underwear? How could she possibly look so fuckable at 2 a.m.?

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” I snapped.

“Right. Well, you enjoy your toga party, I’m going back to bed.” She turned and left me standing in the entry hall with a raging hard-on despite the fact that I’d just come less than ten minutes ago.

As my feet grew cold against the marble floor, I came to two conclusions. One, women didn’t like to be called Bailey during sex if their names weren’t Bailey, and two...my body knew the difference between the fantasy and the real thing, and it was one tug away from dropping the blanket and finding out if the skin of her hips was softer than the silk she slept in.

And three—I always did suck at math—I couldn't bring any more women home because I was living with the only woman I wanted...who also happened to be the only woman in Seattle that I couldn't have.

Fuck. My. Life.

I
set
the video monitor down on my nightstand, thankful for Lettie’s soothing white noise machine blocking out the sounds of half the Shark’s team playing poker a floor above her. Jeannine followed me into my room, somehow managing to balance three perfectly salted Margarita glasses and hold the door open for Paige. She came in last with a full pitcher and I quietly shut the door behind them.

“Get to pouring, Paige,” Jeannine demanded once she’d set the glasses down on the oversized desk which sat—mostly unused—in the far corner of my huge room.

Paige chuckled, her gorgeous red hair trembling down her shoulders. “Act like
you
had a rough week.”

“Perfecting a new menu is just as hard as running a multi-billion-dollar corporation. Actually, it’s harder because I have to constantly think about how things will taste in other people’s mouths.”

I snorted, taking the full glass Paige handed to me first. “Why does
everything
you say sound so dirty?”

Jeannine batted her crystal-blue eyes. “Just lucky I guess.” She took a large pull of the drink Paige finally handed her. “Speaking of other people’s mouths…” she arched an eyebrow at me. “Have you gotten a taste of Gage’s yet? Because
damn.”

Heat flushed my cheeks and I tried my best to ignore the ache at the mention of the want I wouldn’t express.

“Of course not,” Paige answered before I could. “That would be completely unprofessional. She’s his employee.”

Jeannine huffed and took a seat at the royal-blue, cushioned armchair next to the desk. “Ha! Everyone doesn’t have to worship the rules like you do, Paige.”

Paige’s shoulders drooped and the weight of her position hardened her green eyes. I didn’t envy the girl—she had more people’s lives depending on the success of her family’s corporation than I would ever know what to do with. That and her father had always held her to the highest moral standard I’d ever seen.

“I’m just happy he hasn’t brought home another puck-bunny for an entire week.” I dodged any sort of committed answer to Jeannine’s prying. Truth was I’d thought about Gage’s mouth a hell of a lot more than I should. So much so in fact that I’d
sworn
I’d heard him call out my name last week when he’d had his last conquest here. But I knew that couldn’t be right. Why would he ever do that? The girl’s name had to have been
Hailey.
Or
Kaley.
Whatever.

“Wouldn’t you jump at the chance if you could?” Jeannine asked. “I mean, you’ve seen the way he slams those big ass dudes into the walls, think of what he could do to your body…”

It was easy to see all of the gears turning in our eyes at the picture she painted.

I quickly blinked away the image of his hard body pinning me to any one of this house’s walls, moving against me until I screamed out
his
name. “Stop. Seriously, the man has had a slew of one-night-stands paraded in front of me every morning. Do you know how that feels? Plus, they constantly mistake me for nothing but the maid. It’s enough to make me take up drinking.” I raised my glass in a faux-toast.

Paige sighed. “That’s not very professional either.”

Jeannine and I chuckled.

“What?” Paige asked, leaning against the desk. “It isn’t.” She brought the margarita to her lips and Jeannine bolted out of her seat, holding the bottom of the stem so Paige couldn’t bring the drink down.

Paige’s eyes widened as she took a much longer swallow than she’d intended. Finally, Jeannine stepped back.

“What the hell, ‘Nine?”

She pointed her finger between me and Paige. “You two need to more liquor therapy than we have time for in one night. So drink up.” She ran her fingers through her long hair. “You’re both wound tighter than those whoohas you keep clenched shut. It’s time to loosen the fuck up!” She held her already near-empty glass out and Paige and I gave each other an incredulous look. There was no denying Jeannine, not when she had an idea up her sleeve. We’d learned that the hard way a few years back when she’d wanted to sneak into the Shark’s locker room after their season opener.

Just a peek,
she’d promised.

Well, that damned “peek” had turned into a full on entry, earning us a good, stern talking to from security—which would’ve been much worse if Gage hadn’t talked to them on behalf of we knew each other.

“Fine,” Paige relented, as did I, and we clinked our glasses together.

We each drained the contents, and I took a seat on my bed once Jeannine had refilled mine.

“Now, honestly, tell me, how difficult is it living with that hard cut of man?” Jeannine retook her seat, crossing one long leg over the other. The black pumps and dark jeans she sported contrasted with her blond hair, making her look like a badass biker version of Barbie.

I grinned. “It’s actually really easy. I love Lettie, and Gage has been super accommodating.” I raised my hands to indicate the ginormous room he’d given me.

  It was big enough to hold the king sized bed, have a lounge area and the huge Cherrywood desk holding up a computer that cost more than three of my car payments. I’d told him when I’d moved in it was all too much, but he’d insisted all his guest rooms had always been set up that way.

I highly doubted it, especially because just off my room was one packed with nothing but art supplies—the best paints, brushes, canvasses, and easels—and with each adult version he’d gotten Lettie a child-sized one to match. It was one of our favorite activities and the girl was a natural artist. She had a knack for focusing when the paint ran between her fingers as she smeared it around the canvas, something I understood well, at least with a brush in my hand.

“I know you two are used to this kind of thing,” I continued. “Fitting back into this lifestyle has been an adjustment.” My family had always had money, and if I wanted to live off a trust fund I could, but I didn’t. I wanted to earn my way, and my life, I just had to figure out what the hell to do with it first.

“Please,” Jeannine said. “You
fit
here. Just like I think you’d fit with Gage. There is something there.”

 I shook my head, not that I hadn’t fantasized about what it would be like if we’d crossed the lines we never had as kids. “You’re sensing history, not chemistry. We’ve known each other since kindergarten.”

“I have an excellent heat-sensor and there are definitely sparks between you two.” Jeannine got up and refilled our drinks faster than we could drink them. “You should act on it.”

 “What about Paige?” I motioned my glass toward her and earned a good glare for it.

 Jeannine smiled at her. “Yes, we need to work on her too.”

“Thanks,” Paige said. “I’m totally fine with my life.”

“Nope,” Jeannine shook her head. “You’re not. Think about it, you’re about to take over your father’s position in the most uptight, moral company in the US and Bailey over here is playing house with a man she doesn’t get to fuck. Y’all need to make a list of everything you want to do before you’re too old to do it.”

“I’m only twenty-six!” I shouted but giggled at the same time. The margaritas were working wonderfully, turning stress and tension into fuzzy words I didn’t care about at the moment. “I’ve got time---“

“Fine, but Paige doesn’t.”

“Wonderful.” Paige raised her glass. “Here’s to you as Jeannine puts me out to pasture.”

Jeannine pursed her lips at her. “Not what I meant. You’ve got a handful of months before you’re under the microscope for the company. The morality clause and all that. We need to make you a list, a
dirty girl bucket list
and you need to accomplish every task before you take over the company.” She opened a few drawers of the desk until she dug out a blank notebook and pen. “We’ll make Bailey one too.”

“Not scheduled to take over any fortune five hundred companies anytime soon, but thanks,” I said and finished the rest of my drink.

“I’m not doing any list,” Paige said firmly but I could see a small glint of hope in her eyes. Looked like she was craving a taste of the forbidden as bad as I was.

“Sure you are, and the first thing on it will be to sleep with Rory Jackson.” Jeannine quickly wrote the task down.

 Paige spit half her drink back into her glass and my mouth dropped.

“You have a crush on the enforcer for the Sharks?” I asked, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rory was one of Gage’s best friends, it wasn’t like I didn’t have access to him.

 Paige’s cheeks flushed as red as her hair. “It’s a fantasy for God’s sake! I don’t actually want to sleep with the man.”

“Of course you do,” Jeannine said.

“If that’s the case,” I said, standing up and opening my bedroom door, “you know he’s playing poker with the rest of the boys upstairs, right? Now is your chance.”

Paige’s eyes widened and she scoffed. “I will if you will.”

My hand gripped the doorknob a bit tighter.

What if I did? What if I acted on the deep ache that begged me to touch Gage any time he was within ten feet of me? To trace the cut lines of his muscles with my tongue. The scene flashed behind my eyes, his lips on my skin, his body flush with mine…

I shut the door, the mere fact I was entertaining the thought was enough to cool the fire pulsing inside me. Damn margaritas.

“Didn’t think so.” Paige grinned triumphantly at me.

“Yeah, well,
I’m
not employed by Rory Jackson and neither are you. You could do anything you wanted if you simply chose it.”

Paige swallowed her response and poured her and myself another glass.

“All right so far I’ve got:
Fuck Rory Jackson, Have sex in public, and make a sex tape,
on Paige’s list. What else?” She bit the end of the pen she held before her eyes lit up. “Kiss a woman!” She laughed so hard each of us joined in.

“Might as well throw in
Have a threesome
for good measure,” Paige said, shaking her head.

Jeannine quickly nodded and jotted the task down. I laughed so hard my sides ached. The sensation felt wonderful, clearing out the icky negative trend I’d received from the puck-bunny-parade I’d been privy to the past six months. These were my
girls
and they understood me, built me up, and made me relax all at the same time. I’d never been happier that we’d all taken up yoga at the same time four years ago, and that the pair had instantly welcomed me into a friendship they’d had as long as Gage’s and mine.

“Perfect.” Jeannine handed Paige the list, which looked to have nearly ten dirty tasks on it. “Get to work.”

Paige chuckled and shoved the paper in her bag resting on the floor. “I’ll get right on that, boss.”

“Bailey’s up,” Jeannine said, the pen on a fresh piece of paper. “Should I even list Gage or is that a given?”

“No,” I said, raising my hands in defense. “If I have to have a list, then figuring out what the hell I want would be number one. It’s pointless.”

She tilted her head at me. “You know what you want.”

“No, I don’t.” I pointed at the two of them. “
You
two do. You’ve got it all figured out. Paige is going to take her father’s company to the next level and you’re going to earn another Michelin star in the next year…me? I…” I didn’t have a fucking clue. “I have a Masters in Philosophy, and I love my art and sure, I’d love to run a gallery someday, but…”

“You’re a Mom,” Paige said.

I scrunched my eyebrows. “No, I love Lettie, but I’ll never be her mother.” The reality of that fact stung more than it should and I rubbed at the spot on my chest like I could soothe it. Maybe the liquor was making me overly emotional as well as daringly adventurous.

Paige shook her head. “No, I meant you’re a
Mom
. You’ve always wanted a boatload of kids. You’re a brilliant artist—we’ve both told you that—and you know I’m willing to buy pieces for any of my charity events, but you know what you want, Bailey.”

She was right. It
was
something I wanted. A houseful of kids, a full, busy life where I taught them how to ride bikes, paint, and to share. Where I had a partner who would love the chaotic household just as much as me, and make a point to keep our bedroom life as equally hopping.

Gage’s face flashed behind my eyes. I had no doubt he could keep up with and exceed my expectations on any list I ever created if I chose to do so.

“All right,” Jeannine said, scribbling on the blank piece of paper and tearing it off.

I took it from her outstretched hand and read it.

          
Bailey’s List.

1)    Find a gallery, take it over and run it

2)    Find a good man, screw him, and have lots of babies

I chuckled and gulped another mouthful of the sour-salty mixture.

 “You’ll make a great one someday, you know that?” Jeannine asked. “The way you are with Lettie…well, it’s enough to make me want kids.”

 Paige and I both raised our eyebrows at her, shocked those words came out of her mouth

 “Almost,” she quickly added.

 “What about your list?” I asked.

 “Girl, you know I’ve already got one. Several actually. I’ve worked on them for a couple years now.”

 Paige straightened. “Can we see?”

 “I don’t carry them around with me.” Jeannine chuckled and shifted in her seat. “And it has things on it I’m sure neither of you would agree with or be down for, the sissies that you are.”

 I dropped my hand in mock shock at her playful jab. “We can’t all be as daring as you.”

 “Such is life,” she said and winked at us.

 “Now, about introducing Paige to Rory…”

 “Oh please, no. I’m not properly prepared to meet him.” Paige smoothed out her immaculate white blouse, having come over straight from the office.

 I snorted, glancing down at my purple yoga pants and black t-shirt combo. I’d worn even scrubbier clothes around Gage too and never batted an eye. He’d known me when I went through the phase where I sported overalls and a side-pony-tail every day.

 “Come on,” I said, standing up and opening my bedroom door. “I should probably check and make sure they have plenty of food still anyway.”

 Jeannine wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “For someone who isn’t married, you sure act like one hell of a wife.”