Текст книги "Suit"

Автор книги: Jettie Woodruff

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Eight

 

I don’t know what went through my mind while I waited, butt resting on the countertop. I knew from the rising pain in the back of my knee and my ankle that I needed the crutches. Being stubborn only prolonged my recovery. Instead of thinking about Paxton opening that door, I thought about crutches. My mind tried hard to block it out, but without really knowing, I had a gut feeling what was about to happen.

The worst case of paranoid-freaking-out hit me when the doorknob turned. My heart pounded like crazy, and blood rushed rapidly through my veins. For a second, I thought I might be having a heart attack.

“Did you miss this? Can’t wait any longer? Is that what this is about?” Paxton asked in a quiet tone, eyes narrowed while he strolled toward me. Toward me and my pounding heart, my dry mouth, and my overactive sex drive. Jesus. I truly was a glorified whore.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

He quieted me with a warning look, one that I could easily detect in his green eyes. “I think you know exactly what I am talking about. I think you’re being defiant because you know. You know because this is all an act. Most of it.”

Of course I didn’t speak. Not that I could have, had I tried. Paxton did things to me. Things I couldn’t explain. My body reacted to him like—like danger. A thrill seeker. That’s how I felt around him. Like jumping out of a plane. The ecstasy of it overpowering the danger.

Breathe…

Breathe…

Breathe.

I literally had to remind myself of that mundane task, truly worrying I might die if I didn’t. My eyes moved to his hands. He tugged the tail of my red shirt from my shorts. I reminded myself to breathe again. It was the look. The expression on his face. The instant bulge in his jeans. It was the lust. That’s the thrill I chased. Lust. Pure lust.

The jingle of the buckle on my belt came next. Paxton took his time, sliding the strap out. He took just as much time sliding the zipper down. The scrape and grind of the metal echoed in the room. He dropped to his knees and tugged on my shorts. He slid them over my hips with a slight struggle, wearing the same lustful expression. My knees trembled and my hands gripped harder, white knuckling the countertop for support.

“Turn around,” Paxton ordered in the most sexy, sultry tone I’d ever heard, or could remember.

I almost couldn’t handle it. He was right—I was a slut. Hands down. I was a slut, and I could think of no other way to put it. I wanted this. I wanted him to spank me. Why? What the hell was wrong with me? I wanted this?

My breath became trapped in my lungs when his hand moved to my bare ass. A faint whimper slipped between my lips as he fisted my powder-blue, lacy thong and lifted. I wasn’t expecting his next maneuver at all—his hand slapped hard on my right ass cheek. Another whimper escaped my tight lips, this one sounding more erotic. The thin strap in the crevice of my buttocks was plucked again like a violin string, followed by another sharp slap. I didn’t know what it was—the amplified sound, the way our eyes kept meeting in the mirror, the mystified yet lustful way he stared back, or what, but it had moved up a notch to phenomenal. Here I was at the hands of monster and I liked it. I loved it, in fact, and I wanted more. Even the stinging on my ass stung with electrical jolts. He had turned me into a thrill-seeking slut. A Paxton addict.

“Does that make you wet, Gabriella? Hmm?” Crack! Another blow in the exact same place. “You like it when I bend you over like this, don’t you, Gabriella?”

I didn’t answer with words. Not because I wasn’t able, but because I didn’t know if I was allowed. Just because Paxton asked a question didn’t mean I could answer. Especially when he had me in this positon. Under his control.

He peeled the lacy strap from between the crease of my rump, intensifying my arousal. Another slap stung on top of stinging. Seven was the lucky number. My ass burned, and I loved it. After the last sting to my ass, he placed his hand over it, calming the burn with soothing, caressing pleasure.

My world spun out of control; my body longed for more.

Paxton pulled me to his chest, pumping his hardness into my tingling ass. He looked at me in the mirror, but not really at me. Not my eyes, anyway. He seemed to be avoiding them intentionally. It didn’t much matter, though, because I didn’t look at him, either. I couldn’t. His hand reached around and slid through my pulsating slit. My head dropped back to his chest, my eyes closed, and I moaned. One lustful, erotic whimper.

“Jesus Christ, Gabriella,” Paxton exclaimed.

I didn’t respond to that, either. Not even an opened eye. I kept both of them closed, praying to God almighty not to let him stop. I couldn’t take much more and he knew it. God and Paxton.

“You want to come, baby?”

“Please,” I begged through a moan. It wouldn’t have taken much more. Two minutes of attention to my throbbing nub. That’s it. Was that asking too much? Not in my book. Paxton’s, yes.

He stopped. The bastard stopped. “Get ready, we need to go. Don’t fuck up. The ball field isn’t far from here. I can have you back here in five minutes.”

With one more run through my crazy-mad slit, he retreated.

“You sure?” I questioned as I stepped over that line, the one I knew I would be crossing before I said it. My hand did what his did. I reached around and stroked an erection harder than steel. Our eyes did meet in the mirror that time. His had a taken-aback gleam. Mine begged for more, full of desire.

Paxton didn’t stop me. Not at first. His eyes closed and his hips thrust into my hand. Jesus, he was hard.

“Fuck, Gabriella,” he said with raspy words into my hair.

“Put it in me, Pax,” I pleaded while paying special attention to his bulging head, hiding behind his jeans.

The pain in my ankle shot to my knee, and then my hip when I found myself on my knees, right in front of him. It was quick. Lightning fast. Paxton spun me, jerking me to my knees by my hair. He released his cock and had it in my mouth faster than I could blink.

That was quick, too. I swear it didn’t take thirty seconds. Paxton held my head, darting in and out of my mouth. Quick and deep. Clear down my throat.

“Aahh,” he called shortly after. One finger slid in the corner of my mouth, his hips stabilized at the end of a thrust, and he pumped hard with his hand. I was instantly pissed. I’m not even sure I tasted him at all.

“Mom, Rowan spilled her orange juice on the floor,” Ophelia called from the door. “Mom?” she said again, sounding more like a question.

Paxton brushed a lose strand of hair from my forehead and smiled down at me. “Don’t call me Pax. Go clean up the juice. I’m going to run back to the work garage for a minute. Get ready.”

He did take my hands and help me to my feet. He kissed my neck while he repositioned the string in my ass. One hard pull. I started to speak, to protest his stupid, one-sided ways. A shhhh and his lips stopped me.

The urge to call him a dick was so strong. Right on the tip of my tongue. Afraid that he really would make me miss the game stopped me. I hated him. Paxton Pierce was nothing but a low-life prick.

Not getting a response from me, Ophelia yelled for her dad next. I pulled my shorts up and tucked in my shirt just as he opened the door. The dry swallow stuck in my throat while I watched him scoop her up, tossing her into the air.

Who the hell was this guy? Who did he think he was? I messed with my hair, fixing it while trying like hell to stop thinking about it. Pretend the vivacious ache wasn’t there, that I wasn’t ready to explode. I couldn’t do it. I needed relief. My fingers were already on the snap of my shorts as I walked to the door. I closed it, turned the little lock, and leaned against it.

A long, deep breath filled my lungs when my fingers found the source of the problem. The buildup was ridiculous, and just like Paxton, I was freed within a few seconds. My fingers rubbed circles around my slippery-wet clit, and the energetic pulse multiplied. Tenfold.

After going to the bathroom, mostly to soak up the arousal, I walked out. Back to the family I didn’t know, but feeling much better.

Ophelia was seated on the island and Paxton stood right in front of her, tying white sneakers. He lifted her to the floor and my heart skipped a beat. Her little white baseball pants with the blue shirt was too darn cute. She was adorable. I smiled after her, reading the back of her shirt. Pierce Pools and Lawn Care. Building your dreams. Creating your reality. His website scrawled just below the number three. I guessed Rowan won the number five.

Ophelia rambled some long story about Collin and sparklers. I half listened while searching Paxton’s eyes for the mood. Using my brass balls, I walked over to him and swiped my thumb down the corner of his lip.

“Lipstick,” I quietly said.

His hand went around my wrist with a tight grip, and his eyes held mine.

Shit!

He brought my fingers to his nose and breathed in.

“Lavender soap and pussy?” he questioned in a whisper.

“What?” I said while trying to feign ignorance.

“And he’s going to let me have one tonight at dark. Can I, Daddy?” Ophelia asked.

“We’ll see. Go find Rowan. We’ve got to go.”

“Her went outside because she can’t find her whistle. This one is mine,” she explained while showing us the shiny silver whistle. “Mommy put a O on it. Right, Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie. I did,” I lied. Well, not lied. Just not remembered. I saw O’s and R’s on lots of things. As much as they fought, labeling their things was a must.

“Go help her,” Paxton ordered, his hand still holding my wrist. Ophelia walked away, marching to the tune of her whistle.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Paxton questioned as soon as she was out of earshot.

“Me?” I countered with a snort and a thumb to my chest. Really? He wanted to know who I thought I was?

“You think you can do whatever you want? You think that pussy belongs to you?”

“Well, yeah, I sort of do. What the hell do you expect?”

Paxton’s hand went around my throat in two seconds, my back crashed against the refrigerator, and his words were sharp, cutting me down to size. His size.

“You think you can use this to your advantage. This whole, ‘I can do what I want, because I don’t know anything’? You can’t, Gabriella Pierce. We had a deal. One that you’re not going to break. I own you. You do what I say. When I say it. If you come, it’s because I let you come. Nothing else. You need to get that, and you need to get it fast. I’m beginning to get annoyed with the whole thing. Learn your place and stay there before you get hurt.”

A tighter grip around my throat kept me from speaking. That and his lips. Paxton kissed me, sending my head into a whirlwind of emotions with a light bang against the fridge.

“Answer me, Gabriella. Tell me you understand what I’m saying to you.”

“Okay, yes,” I lied. I had no idea what the hell he wanted. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. I understood what he wanted. I just didn’t understand why.

“The only reason you’re leaving this house is because of those two little girls. If it wasn’t for disappointing them, you’d be staying right here. No more. You need to stop, and I’m not kidding when I say you’ll be staying home this evening. Screw up one time today and you’ll be home cleaning the toilet while the girls and I go to a barbeque. Okay? We’re good here?” Paxton questioned, one finger going from me to him. I did the only thing I knew how to do. I nodded my head in agreement.

“That’s my girl. Let’s get going. I need to run by a jobsite before the game.” And just like that, Paxton switched gears. From what I had learned from osmosis, I established a couple of things.

Paxton told me what to do.

I did it.

Paxton told me to jump.

I asked how high.

Paxton made my decisions.

I let him.

Paxton owned my body.

I was his slut.

Mind, body, and soul, he possessed me.

I couldn’t even open the car door by myself. It wasn’t meant to be sweet by any means. Maybe in the eyes of the beholder. Not mine. It was a power trip. I stood off to the side while Paxton buckled both girls into their seats. He may have been a horrible husband, but I had to admit, he was a very good daddy. My lips curled upward, hearing him answer Ophelia’s knock-knock joke.

“Oh, you got me. That was a good one.”

Ophelia giggled, shoulders bouncing up and down.

My smile vanished when he closed the car door and glanced at me. With one arm around my back, he pulled me toward his hard chest and grinned. “You can smile. I love your smile, and your lips.”

Of course I kissed him back. I don’t know why I did. I just did. Maybe I liked kissing him. Maybe it had something to do with my head injury. Whatever was going on was strange. Like unexplainable. The feeling a person gets when they’re in love, the newness of the relationship, and getting to know one another. Add that to a tornado of sexual tension, hate, lust, and spite. Something was bound to happen. An explosion.

Paxton opened my door and I slid in. Another kiss and he secured me to the front seat, just like he had the girls.

A hidden camera would have revealed a normal family. The girls talked nonstop with Paxton and me participating, back and forth with our daughters. Never to each other.

Even after we stopped off at Paxton’s jobsite, I still wasn’t sure what he did. The girls and I waited in the car while he walked around the back of a gorgeous coastal house. The landscaping was amazing. Exotic plants, meticulously placed to perfection.

“So, Daddy makes yards look pretty. That’s his job, right?” I questioned the girls.

“Daddy makes swimming pools,” Ophelia explained.

“And he plants stuff, too. Like that,” Rowan said, pointing to a tree full of red berries.

“Yeah, that was dumb. Why would you want a pepper tree right by your driveway?” A pepper tree? Why did I know that?

“All set. You girls ready to go hit a few home runs?” Paxton asked cheerfully as he slid behind the wheel.

“Mommy said that tree is dumb,” Rowan just had to go and say. Out loud.

“I planted that tree. Well, I had my guys do it, but it was my idea.”

“It’s dumb,” Ophelia said while giving her own two cents. Nobody asked for her opinion.

“What are they talking about?” Paxton questioned as we backed out of the drive.

“Nothing, I just didn’t understand why you would plant a pepper tree this close to parked cars.”

“Parked cars?”

“You do know what a pepper tree does, right?”

“I do. Do you?”

“Yes, they’re going to get forty feet tall and produce little red berries.”

Paxton cut me off before I could finish. “Beautiful red berries that will look awesome next to the palms.”

“And the bird shit all over the place.” My hand covered my mouth as soon as I said it. The girls giggled from the back seat. Even Paxton hid a smile. I’m sure more from their giggling than my bad word in front of them.

“I know what it does. I voiced that concern with the homeowners. They know,” Paxton assured me while taking my hand. “So you can remember what a pepper tree is, but you can’t remember who you are, or what your place is?”

“My place?”

“Forget it,” he said with quick glance to the backseat. He didn’t want to tell me my place again in front of the girls.

I didn’t need to hear it again, anyway. I’d heard it enough. Instead, I stared out the window, wondering the same thing myself. Why did I know what a pepper tree was, and how did I know birds were attracted to it? Paxton’s hand tightened around mine and I sighed, eyes shifting to our entwined fingers. Fake.

The charade continued once we’d gotten to the ball field, too. We sat in a huddle. Talk about a fish out of water. Everyone seemed to know me. I guess I wasn’t prepared to be the freak show.

“Oh, my goodness, Gabriella. I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been meaning to get over there and see you, but I’ve been so busy at work. You know how it is.”

“It’s okay.” That’s what I said. It’s okay. I had no clue whatsoever who this chick was. Nor did I know the guy standing beside her. Whoever he was, he gave me the creeps, staring at me. What the hell?

“Aahh, you don’t remember us. Do you?” the blonde questioned.

I smiled with a nod toward the right and admitted the truth. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”

“Candace and Lane? We live three houses from you on the right? The gray one with the burgundy shutters.”

“Oh the one with the high grass,” I exclaimed like an idiot.

Paxton squeezed my hand to shut me up. “I’ve got guys heading over there this afternoon. It’ll be mowed before you get home.”

Candace and Lane walked with us while our kids ran up ahead with their little girl. What a little cutie, and I loved her name. Chance for a little girl. How adorable was that?

Lane laughed. Like really laughed. Gut-wrenching laughed. I frowned. I didn’t get it. Why was that so funny?

“Fuck you, Lane,” Paxton said while we walked.

“That’s great. I love it. Swooped off your high horse by your wife. I’m buying you a drink the next time we go out,” Lane said, eyes on me.

“Sorry. How was I supposed to know our company mowed his lawn?” I said when Paxton held me back a step, slowing our pace. Lane looked over his shoulder and down my body. The dude straight-up checked me out with my hand in my husband’s. Dick.

“My company. This is why you don’t talk when we’re out. Let me do the talking. Shut your mouth. Don’t talk.”

I did shut my mouth for all of five minutes. Tricia and Brant were there, too.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came. You must be going stir crazy,” Tricia said with her butt sliding to the right for me to move in beside her.

Paxton lightly squeezed my hand. My permission to talk. “I am. What are you doing here? I thought your daughter was twelve,” I questioned.

The girl directly in front of me with her thumbs glued to her phone looked back.

“You must be Phoenix.” I smiled. “Sorry.”

“Hey! Can I do my health report on you?” she exclaimed like the brilliant idea had just popped into her head.

“Phoenix!” Brant scolded.

“What? It’s a great idea.”

“No, it’s not. Gabriella has been through enough. Do it on someone else.”

“Ugh. Who? It’s not like I know anyone else who’s had an illness to report about.”

“Call your Grandma Kate. She’s got all kinds of illnesses,” Brant offered with a grunt after taking an elbow to the ribs from Tricia.

I laughed, assuming it was her mother. And once again the grip got tighter.

I listened to the conversation between the women and men, wondering why they were all there. It wasn’t Friday night football. It was five– to seven-year-old tee-ball.

It didn’t take long to figure it out. Four teams played that Saturday morning, all with the logos of their own companies. The banter going between the three men explained it all. They were there to spread their tail feathers, boast each of their team’s win, and rub in their victory. None of them were there for the game.

Shayla and her husband Mark joined us next. Mark joined right in.

“Ready to lose today, sucker?” Mark asked with an extended hand. Paxton removed his death grip from me and shook Mark’s hand. “How are you, Gabriella?”

“I don’t remember,” I joked. Paxton took my hand again. Geesh. It was a joke. Everyone else thought it was funny. I shut up and turned my attention to the girls. Rowan stood on the back of the bench, climbing up the fence. Ophelia sat in the dirt, trying like hell to tie her shoe. Nobody came to either of their rescues. The coach was too busy talking in a circle, flipping pages on a clipboard.

“Hey,” I quietly said as the talk continued around us. Paxton squeezed my hand, shushing me. It pissed me off that time. Had I always been this timid? I let go of his hand and stepped off the bleachers with a hiss. Damn, that hurt. I walked away from him and the male egos, limping toward the dugout.

Rowan was halfway up the fence by the time I got to her. High enough to break a bone if she fell the right way.

“Hey, how about you get down from there,” I said from the other side of the fence.

“There’s a bird nest. I think it has eggs,” Rowan countered, still climbing.

“Down, Rowan. Now,” I ordered in a stern tone. It felt natural for me to discipline her in a motherly fashion. By the time I had moved around to her side of the fence, she was hopping down. I winked at her with a smile for listening.

“I can’t bend to you, but if you go sit on the bleachers, I’ll help you tie your shoe,” I said to Ophelia with a hand shielding my eyes from the sun.

“Okay,” Ophelia agreed with bright eyes. Just as I had gotten to the bleachers with her, the coach called them in for a huddle.

“I have a go now, Mommy,” she worried.

The shoe-tying lesson was cut short by the coach. I quickly tied her shoe and hobbled back to my husband and those people. My neighbors. My friends. My life. Paxton’s eyes were right on me, but they weren’t angry like I was expecting. They were. Hmmm. Star-struck. I don’t know, it was…weird. Peculiar. Lane’s eyes did the same thing. His stare was directed right at me. Creepy.

“You should have said something. I didn’t see her,” Paxton said from my side.

“I know. Shhh, Rowan’s up,”

I have no idea who won. The guys bickered back and forth about it, but there was really no way to keep score. There wasn’t even a way to keep the kids in their right places. Their attention spans were three seconds long. Both teams even huddled together once. Cutest thing ever.

Ophelia was supposed to be tending to the outfield. She found a lizard and everyone had to see. Both teams. The opposing coach picked it up by its tail and carried it off the field.

I wasn’t really quiet during the so-called game either, but in my defense, it was only when one of my girls were up that I said anything. The first yell was through a makeshift horn, using my hands.

“Come on, Row-row. You’ve got this.”

“Gabriella, stop it,” Paxton ordered through a teeth-clamped whisper in my ear.

His eyes weren’t the only surprised eyes. Everyone looked at me like I had two heads. The whole gang. I cowered and shut up. Evidently, I wasn’t that mom. I didn’t cheer my kids on during sports.

There must have been something up with my short-term memory, as well. I did it again when Ophelia hit the ball from the tee, sending it to left field, right past the two little boys not paying attention.

“Run, Phi. Run!” I screamed. She looked back to me, dropped the bat, and hauled ass, all the way to first base, and then to third. She totally skipped over second, but she didn’t care. She still cheered waving her arms and jumping up and down. Touch down, touch down, touch down. I laughed so hard my gut hurt. Thank God everyone else did, too. That helped take the pressure off me.

I still have no idea who won the game. There was too much chaos to even try to keep track of the score. My little Phi got a half a run. That’s all I cared about.