Wicked Bad Boys (10 page)

I
t’s
after eleven at night when Rebecca and I finally leave her bed, get dressed, and go out for dinner. We drive in my car to the Upper East Side. Several decent restaurants are open late there. Even at this time of night, there’s a slight rush of traffic, and it’s no surprise. The taxis outnumber private vehicles in this area, and I remember I’m better off parking at the hotel valet a block away. There’s never any street parking around here.

I glide the car to the curb in front of the restaurant and let her off. I don’t want Rebecca to have to walk all that way. She says she’s fine getting us a table while I park. I help her out of the front seat and walk with her to the doors. I get back to my car and wait until I see she’s inside.

I’m not sure how come I didn’t notice before, but she looks stunning tonight. She’s in a black knee length cocktail dress and black stilettos that I would never expect to see in a lawyer’s wardrobe. This is Kara’s employee, so I really should not be surprised. Rebecca’s hair is up in that sexy bun again. My cock twitches, she looks so good. I smile. I make a mental note to find my supply of condoms in my duffel bag in the trunk.

I drive to the hotel, leave my keys with the valet, and walk back. I’ve been to this restaurant so many times, for good reason. It’s one of my favorites. The food is superb, the ambiance is elegant but toned down, and from the windowless façade outside, it’s completely private. Just the way I like it.

I walk in as two tipsy young ladies are leaving. One seems to recognize me and smiles at me flirtatiously. I have no idea where she thinks she knows me from, but I don’t know her. She leans into me and tells me my dad is so hot. Mystery solved. Juan the maître d’ notices me and steps up to help get this woman off me. He slides an arm to the woman’s back, gives me a discreet nod, and guides her and her friend out the exit to a waiting taxi.

I wait for him to return.

“Good night, Mr. Sloan,” he greets me when he returns. “Will you be joining us alone for dinner tonight?”

“Good night, Juan. Dinner, yes. Alone, no. You seated a young lady a few minutes ago. I’ll be dining with her.”

“Ahhhh yes. Follow me, sir.”

He leads me to a corner where Rebecca is seated. I thank him and he lets us know our server will be here shortly. I scan the room when I sit, and I’m about to make conversation with Rebecca when out of the corner of my eye I see—no, it can’t be.

“Excuse me, Rebecca. I’ll be right back.”

The server comes to the table just when I get to my feet. I tell him to bring a bottle of my favorite cabernet sauvignon. I walk over to the table to greet her, but mostly to make sure my eyes are not deceiving me.

“Mandy?”

She looks up at me, and for a brief moment, she stiffens up. She is sitting rather close to a man very near to my age, having a seemingly intimate conversation over a bottle of wine. Her face softens and she stands up to hug me.

“Hello son,” she says when she pulls away. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Where’s Dad?” I ask softly, looking over at the man she’s with.

I’m surprised, yet trying my best to keep the reaction to myself. I never thought I’d see my dad’s wife in the company of another man. Ever. Then again, the irony is perfect.

“He’s doing what he does, I guess. Let me introduce you to my art teacher.” She turns back toward the table, and the man stands. “Jonathan, this is Michael Young. Michael, this is my son Jonathan.”

We exchange tense but civil handshakes. They sit and she continues.

“Michael’s a local artist, Jonathan. His work is just stellar. I’ve commissioned a few paintings and we’re talking over some of the details of my vision.” She looks behind me and then meets my eyes again. “Jonathan, are you eating alone? I’d love it if you’d join us.”

“My dinner partner and I have already been seated. I’d hate to interrupt the two of you, and we do have some business to discuss.”

“I understand, son. We’ve eaten and were just leaving, right Michael?”

He smiles nervously, nodding. I kiss Mandy’s cheek and tell her we’ll talk soon, before heading back to Rebecca.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“Yes. Have you seen anything you like on the menu?”

“Everything looks great. I think I’ll have something simple as it’s late. I’d hate to be up all night trying to digest anything heavy.”

“Smart move. Try the grilled chicken with basil and spring vegetables. That’s my default entrée here.”

“That sounds perfect.”

She peers over my shoulder and then meets my eyes. “I believe your friends are coming this way,” she warns me.

“They’re not my friends,” I say, but can’t explain more.

Mandy’s hand is on my shoulder. She reaches down and kisses my cheek before saying anything to Rebecca.

“Hello.” Mandy nods to her.

“Good evening, ma’am,” Rebecca replies. It’s clear she now recognizes my stepmother.

“I was just leaving, Jonathan. Come by for dinner this weekend if you can, will you? I’ll see you soon.”

She saunters out with her art teacher—I scoff inside. The cliché is ridiculously obvious. I do my best to ignore what I’ve just witnessed, and look down at my menu again.

After the server brings our wine and takes our order, I start to relax. Dinner is served promptly. We eat in relative silence, and Rebecca seems comfortable enough not to touch on anything more than pleasant conversation. I’m grateful for the reprieve. She can grill me anytime she wants, in the privacy of her office—or at her apartment.

Every now and then we find ourselves locked in a gaze. I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I don’t know if she’s sizing me up, or just enjoying looking into my eyes. For me, it’s the latter. There’s something in her deep blue eyes that calls me back to her. There’s no ego or attitude. I find them comforting.

It’s close to one in the morning when we finish eating. I’ve got an early start every weekday, so we leave. Rebecca insists she’s fine to walk with me to the car. It’s cooler now, so I put my arms around her shoulders. I walk more slowly than I normally would. There’s no way she could keep up with me in those heels. Her legs are sexy as hell in them, and I tell myself I’d like her to keep them on if I get the chance to have her again when I drop her off at her place.

I pull her in closer. I don’t know why. It’s probably my protective instincts kicking in. She looks up at me and smiles softly. If she wasn’t on my legal team, I might think I’m starting to have feelings for Rebecca. I set those crazy thoughts aside. I’m not meant to be in relationships. Not in this life. Keep your friends close, and your lawyers closer. That’s what this is about, and if I keep reminding myself often enough, everything will be fine.

We get to the front of the hotel. As we wait for the valet to retrieve my car, I feel her shiver. I pull her into my arms, rubbing her back to warm her up. She looks up at me with those mesmerizing eyes. I wonder if she knows the effect they have on me. I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her lips. I quickly forget where we are and what we’re doing. It’s just me and her, and the sounds of the city fall back and seem to disappear.

I’m pulled out from our brief escape by the sound of my Porsche humming in front of us when the valet returns. I find my composure and help her into the passenger seat. I tip the valet and he nods repeatedly. I would think he’d be used to it by now, but he does this every time.

I’m about to start the car and drive off, but as I turn to look at Rebecca, I see around her, into the front doors of the hotel. It’s Mandy—and her artist muse. They’re checking in at the reception desk. I should mind my own business and drive off, but something tells me to go in and see what she has to say to me.

“Do you mind waiting a minute?” I ask Rebecca. “I’ll be right back.”

“Sure. I’ll wait here.”

Leaving the engine running, I head inside the hotel.

“Can we have a word?” I ask Mandy when I make it to her side, my arm gently on hers. Her artist guy looks over at me and I add, “In private?”

She nods. We walk to a quiet corner of the lobby, where she sits in an empty armchair.

She looks pale, so on instinct, I ask, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, son.”

“So what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mandy. First you’re in a restaurant with this artist guy, and it’s clear as day you’re…flirting and who knows what. Now you’re checking into a hotel with him? You don’t want this getting back to Dad.”

“Well you just be sure not to tell him, then.”

I look at her in disbelief. “Mandy, I have no intentions of telling him anything. This is between you and Dad, but you go to the man’s favorite restaurant with that young guy, and you’re here at this very popular hotel his friends frequent. It doesn’t look like you want this hidden from him. What’s really going on here, Mandy?”

“Everything is fine, darling,” she answers and stands to give me a brief hug. “It’s really late. I’m going to stay in a room here, instead of trying to drive home tonight. I do want to sit and have a talk with you, but it will need to wait until the weekend. Will you come to the house then?”

“I’ll check my schedule and let you know. Good night, Mandy.”

Mandy joins the guy as he walks toward the hotel elevators, and I return outside to my car. Rebecca is waiting patiently in the passenger seat, looking down at her phone.

“Sorry about that,” I tell her.

“No problem at all. I was getting caught up on work emails.”

“Anything new about the Rushton girl?”

“No. Nothing so far.”

I drive off and we merge into the traffic. It’s lighter than when we arrived. I take the same way back and halfway there, I’ve forgotten all about Mandy and my family drama. I ask Rebecca if she would like to come to my place instead. I have no idea what part of my brain took over my mouth, because I didn’t plan on asking her anything at all. She surprises me and says yes. It’s settled. I’m officially crazy for doing this. Somewhere deep in my psyche, I’m smiling and completely at ease.

T
he energy has shifted
between us. Jonathan is different. I may be different too. I’m only noticing the change now as we drive in his car, but it’s been brewing since we left my apartment. I can only describe it as strangely familiar. That’s what he seems like to me too, not just how we’re relating to each other.

It’s possible we climbed those steamy waves of ecstasy, and came down on the other side as two slightly altered people. I don’t know. This is all new territory for me. I glance over at him as he drives. He’s smiling. The cocky ego he had in the coffee shop and in Long Island is gone. Or is it me?

I just agreed to go back to his place.

What am I, crazy?

Becky, you must be crazy, girl.

You didn’t just cross the line, you zigzagged over it again and again, and then you stood over that line, hiked up your skirt and peed on it.

I want to analyze it more, and I think my desire to assess it is an emotional defense mechanism. This solace I’m starting to feel when I’m with Jonathan disturbs me.

I giggle softly at the thought, and he looks over at me. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Thank you for dinner.”

“Is there something entertaining you’d like to share?” he asks.

“Um…no. I was just thinking about something.”

“I could use a good laugh.”

“Honestly, it’s not that funny. It’s one of those random thoughts that wanders into your head from out of nowhere. Sometimes it’s best never to speak them out loud.”

“Try me. I won’t laugh. Unless that’s the effect you want, in which case, I’m game.”

I giggle again. The man has a wry, peculiar sense of humor. I like it. “Okay.”

I tell him exactly what I was thinking. That’s something I would never do, but this time with Jonathan is proving to take me to places I never thought I’d go, in almost every sense. Case in point. I’m telling the man reputed to be one of New York’s most eligible playboys—and a dangerous one at that—I’m enjoying his company in less than forty-eight hours of meeting him. I must be nuts.

He doesn’t bring the car to a screeching halt, turn back or boot me out the passenger side. So maybe he’s nuts too. Or he’s going soft. Or maybe that reputation of his is all for show. I don’t know. All he does is nod and smile. It’s genuine.

“I thought it was something much more…wild. That’s how I think in general, so don’t worry. Are you still fine with coming to my condo tonight?”

“Were you expecting me to say no before, Jonathan?”

“I try not to have expectations. It’s not productive, and can turn to bitterness and disappointment.”

I think that’s a weighted message, with more than one intended meaning. He’s an intelligent man. I cannot underestimate him—especially not with his level of natural charm.

“Do you lawyers always answer a question with more questions? I see a pattern, Rebecca.”

I turn to look at him. He’s got a smirk on his face I’d like to wipe right off. Maybe I’m touchy about lawyer jokes. The profession gets dragged through the mud enough, and I swear, if he makes it a habit, I may end up decking him.

“Did I hit a sore spot?” he asks. The smirk is still there.

“No,” I answer. “Well, maybe. Just go easy on the generalizations and I’ll be fine. Oh, and the answer is yes. I’ll come by.”

“Good. If I knew you’d be this excited to come to my place, I’d have played hooky with you this morning when we were there.”

“That may not have been the best idea, given the circumstances.”

“Oh yes. That eager beaver cop who was at my door,” he says, looking at the road again. “Rob, was it?”

There’s a tinge of sarcasm in his voice. Or is that jealousy? I don’t know him enough to tell. I assume I didn’t hear it.

“He’s an old friend,” I offer, and nothing else. “You don’t have to worry. He won’t approach you anymore, not without our firm’s consent. If he does, be sure to let me know.”

“Are you on edge, Rebecca? Because I can help fix that when we get in.”

He places a hand on my knee, and my breath hitches. I’m positive he heard it. I wish I could have more control when I’m around him.

“We’re here,” he announces. He turns into his condo parking garage. Thank God he needs both hands for that. I’m already wet with need, and with any more stimulation, I’m liable to climb over to his side and straddle him. When he parks, he gets out and comes around to help me up. He takes my hand and pulls me into his body. He cups my chin, and presses a hungry kiss on me. It overtakes me. We stand there with the passenger side door still open, tasting each other’s lips, blissfully unaware. He pulls from me when we hear the slam of a car door nearby. He locks his car and takes my hand to lead me to the elevator.

We’re barely off the elevator for a second, and I’m up on my tiptoes, my lips on his again. He kisses me back, and pulls away. “Let’s get inside.”

We walk through the front doors, past his front doors and through the vast living room. He turns a corner, and there are stairs up to another hallway. The place is sprawling. I’d never find my way back to the front door if there wasn’t a two-level wall of glass windows near the stairs. All of this is in my periphery. I’m zoned in on Jonathan. We get to his massive bedroom. It’s decorated in neutral tans and browns, well suited to his masculinity.

He pulls me inside and closes the door. “Where were we?” he asks, wrapping me in his embrace again.

I don’t answer. My body does that for me. I turn my back to him and signal to my dress zipper. He leans down to my neck. Hot kisses trail from behind my ear, down the side my neck, to the top of the zipper. He grips the zipper with his teeth and tugs down, breathing a hot breath as he goes. The sensation warms me to my core.

He stops where the zipper ends at my lower back, and drops to his knees. Reaching his hands up, he peels the dress forward and off my shoulder. It’s in an untidy bundle around my hips. I shift my hips to get it off. He stays where he is and kisses the base of my tailbone, just above the line of my panties.

He palms my ass cheeks, massaging and stroking each one as he kisses and licks my lower back. I’m dripping wet from raw need. I want to turn so he can ravish me where he kneels, but I’m curious. This spot he’s giving attention to has never been touched this way—not by the lips or tongue of any man.

His arms slide slowly down my legs to my ankles and up the front to my mound. By now I’m sopping wet. He touches my clit and my knees buckle. He growls, finally getting to his feet behind me.

“I want you just like this, Rebecca. I want you from behind.”

Jonathan undoes the clasp of my bra. As it falls to the floor, his hands reach forward and cup my breasts. He circles the nipples with his index fingers, and I arch my back into his chest, and tilt my hips back to feel his hardness against my ass. He’s still fully dressed, and all I have on are my heels and my soaking wet panties. I want him inside me now.

His hands stray back to my hips, and I feel his fingers loop under the thin straps of my panties on each side. With a sharp tug, he rips them off me, and the fire in my belly has mounted to a new level. Throwing the scraps of my now unusable panties off to the side, he walks to his dresser drawer. He retrieves a large box of who knows how many condoms and throws it on his king-sized bed, then starts undoing his shirt buttons as he returns to me.

I’m facing him now. I’m helping to undo his belt buckle while he works on his shirt. His pants drop to the floor and I reach into his boxers to cop a feel. His thick cock in my hand makes me wetter. I’m holding on to his power now. His face has an expression of abandon when I slide my hand up and down the shaft.

He tugs off his boxers. We’re naked, and I can’t stop admiring the god standing in front of me. He pulls me over to the bed and he sits, bringing me in to stand between his legs. He’s in the perfect position now—his head lines up with my breasts. He cradles my flesh and leans forward to one nipple. His tongue circles around it, and then he blows cool air on it. I could sit on his cock right now, I want him so bad. He has my body on fire with the way he touches me so tenderly.

I pull away from him. I need him inside. I can’t wait. I capitalize on what he just told me. I pull him to stand and turn my back to him. My ass is directly in his groin. I reach up and seductively pull out the two pins and clips holding my bun up. My hair falls down my back, and I turn my head to make sure he’s looking. Oh yes, he is. I turn away again. I run my hands down from my breasts, past my waist and hips, down my sides along my legs, and all the way down to my ankles. My head is down to my knees and my ass is in the air.

He tears open the box of condoms and rips one open to slip it on. I’m glad he is still thinking responsibly, because my mind is only on one thing. I feel his hands grasp my hips now. He lines up his cock to my opening. God I hope he can keep me steady, because if I lose my balance, I’ll do a face-plant right into the floor.

“Come inside me, Jonathan. Fuck me hard.”

“Oh. God. Fuck.”

He tilts his hip and at the same time, pulls me back into him. His cock impales me so hard, I could black out from the pleasure. He plunges in and out of me, hard and fast, just that way I asked for it. I moan and bite down on my bottom lip from the sensation that’s unleashing wicked pleasure all through my body.

“I’m coming,” I manage to get out through clenched teeth, so filled with the desire his manhood is delivering inside me with every plunge.

As my climax gives way, I scream. He slowly follows me to ecstasy. His hips thrust wildly into me, and the grip of his hands is powerful. They hold me in place just before he groans through his release.

I can barely hold my body up after we finish. Jonathan pulls out slowly and stands me up so he can help me into his bed. I collapse on one side, and he discards his condom and crawls in from the other side. He pulls the cover over me, kisses my cheek and we fall asleep.