DOTTY (The Naughty Ones Book 3) Page 3

  That last part is said with a swift hit to my kneecap and I’m cursing and rubbing at the offended spot.

  “Sonofabitch, Gruffy! That fucking hurt.”

  “Good.” She cackles as the other woman and the priest all glare at me and sniff. “The next one will be to your thick skull unless you wise up, girl. Quickly.”

  “I can’t take time off now. Luci is still out and Callie’s been sick.”

  “She’s pregnant again, you fool. You just don’t know it because the girl’s been too afraid to tell you. They’ve all spoken and Jack hired one of them fancy chefs to step in and help the girls while you’re off. Now! Go home.”

  I plant a kiss on her cheek, dodging another cane attack and take off for the door before she can gain her feet. Old bird is way sprier than anyone really knows, and I know that she’ll hook me a good one again if I let her.

  Somehow, maybe because I just came out of the church and God feels sorry for me, I do manage to grab a cab and I make it home to the empty apartment by half past eight.

  My first order of business is a long bath. I go all out on this and shave everything that’s been going jungle on me for the past few weeks.

  By the time I’m scrubbed, buffed, and smooth I feel a hundred times better and I even enjoy some wine with a plate of gnocchi before pouring another glass, grabbing a bar of dark chocolate and putting on Dirty Dancing.

  I’m just getting into Patrick’s teaching skills and the chemistry between the two when the door rattles beneath a hard fist.

  It’s probably Mr. Engels from 4B coming to complain that the surround sound is too loud again, but honestly, the remote is like an alien entity and I have no clue how to set the volume down after Indie purposely set it up to gnaw at his ass.

  “I don’t know how to set it down so just leave me alone! You can kiss my ass,” I yell, yanking the door open with a curse.

  The next words die right in my throat, and I croak when I look up to see brown eyes looking down at me, filled with amusement.

  All I can do is stare open-mouthed as Paul Summers looks down at me, the corners of his lips twitching with humor as I blink and lick my lips.

  “I’d like to.”

  “I-I…what are you doing here?” I manage to say as my brain starts going a mile a minute and things down south start heating in a way that is just wrong.

  But so right.

  Paul just smiles and seems to get more amused as he shoves his hands in his pants pockets and rocks back on his heels.

  “Invite me in, Dot.”

  Well that is the worst idea in the world, I think, even as I close my mouth and step back, opening the door wider for him to stride past me and into the apartment.

  The place isn’t small and it makes me proud to see him step in and take stock of the clean, well-decorated space. It costs a shit ton to live in this building, but with me, Indie, and Percy pulling for rent, and with my economy when it comes to cooking, we get along really well.

  “Nice place,” he drawls, his eye catching one of the few watercolors I saved and gifted to Percy. “I like this.”

  He leans closer to inspect the little A4 painting and takes in the view of the bay. I sketched it one day while a storm was rolling in and used a lot of dark colors and startling blues on the water as a contrast.

  I’m no artist, though. I just paint sometimes to relax myself, something I picked up in the early days after Luci joined our group. My colors aren’t all realistic, I know that. I used darks to show the tempest brewing ahead but made the water a sapphire blue to show the beauty of the scene.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s yours?” he asks, peeking at the name and turning to me with a smile.

  I feel so awkward standing here in raggedy sleep shorts and an off-the-shoulder old sweater that’s destined for the rag pile as he straightens and takes a seat, obviously settling in for a comfortable night.

  He’s so suave and sophisticated, while I just washed my hair for the first time this week.

  “Talk to me Dot.”

  “What about?” I ask, taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa and turning to face him, my legs drawn up in front of me to hide the state of my nipples from his too observant eyes.

  “Come on, baby. You know what about. I thought you were going to set them straight about the wedding.”

  “I tried. They wouldn’t listen.”

  His mouth purses and he sits back, slinging an arm across the back of the sofa as he regards me for long, tense minutes.

  “Did you say it loud enough, Dot? Did you scream it at them and refuse to be ignored, or did you avoid another argument and whisper it like I’ve seen you do countless times before?”

  He’s judging me? He doesn’t even fucking know me, Goddammit! How dare he come in here, into my home, and judge me on the one night that I’d convinced myself to just let it all go?

  I need a break from it all, just one measly freaking minute to breathe and forget that I’m a pitiful idiot who’s still so hung up on her neglectful parents that she’s turned into a doormat for the last few months.

  “You don’t understand,” I grit out, willing the anger back into the little box deep inside me.

  My spells usually start this way, with me having to regulate my breathing and force the calm that I don’t feel to envelop me. Having one of those now, so close on the heels of the last and in front of this man is not something I think I can’t take at the moment.

  I’m already enough of a wreck, and I can’t stand the thought of someone so put together and perfect seeing yet another weakness in me.

  Not this man. He’s so sexy with all that dark hair and eyes the color of my favorite chocolate, and God have mercy, have I even mentioned that he’s big, toned, and has the face of a fallen angel?

  He’s freaking perfect, one of those hot men you see up on a billboard and have to look away from in case you wreck the car while staring.

  The first time I saw him enter Mother and Father’s house I had to swallow repeatedly to stop myself from drooling, and don’t even get me started on the blushing, stammering mess I was when I had to shake his hand and instead got a kiss to the back of it.

  Almost melted, swear to God.

  “I do.”

  Anger engulfs me because how the hell could he? He’s got the perfect life with money and scads of women panting after him—I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Manwhore.

  And he’s got freedom. Most of all he’s free to do just what he wants because he’s so freaking perfect. Who the hell would ever go against a word he said?

  Hell, he probably hasn’t ever had to fight a battle in his perfect life and has the perfect family and—

  “I see that my statement pissed you off.” He laughs, turning to sling one leg across the sofa and face me, looking amused, relaxed, and so lickable I have to bite my tongue to keep it in my mouth.

  I know what pissed off looks like on me and it is not good with the carrot top I’m sporting. I go red as a freaking traffic light and I just know my hair’s going a deeper orange than usual.

  Dammit.

  “Why shouldn’t that piss me off? You’re a rich boy with power, and control of your own life, and you think you can sit here and judge me for being weak when it comes to my family?”

  That has him tensing and I see the ripple of his shoulder muscles before he grins and relaxes again, shaking his head at me.

  “For a very long time I had no power. No, don’t shake your head at me, Dotty, it’s true. I had to tow the line and stay in the city, doing a job I didn’t want to do for years because I couldn’t leave. I’ve been miserable, resentful and a whole lot of other things for a long time till I got myself into a position where I can finally do what I want. So don’t judge me either without knowing the whole story.”

  His words make my anger melt beneath a spate of guilt and remorse, and I look back at his beautiful face with a look of apology.

  “I’m sorry, Paul, I shouldn’t judge. I
know that looks are deceiving. I just, I know what you must think of me, trust me. My friends have been brutally honest since I confessed what’s been going on in my life and I just, I can’t handle another lecture right now. I’m tired and feeling a little sorry for myself right now.”

  “Understandable, and I don’t think poorly of you for wanting to do what you think is right by your family. I have a mom and grandma myself, and there isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for them. The only difference is that they would never ask me to do something that would make me unhappy. My mom has been at my back every step of the way the last few years, and before that she stood in front of me, protecting me.”

  “Must be nice to have so much unconditional love.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I do. Just not from the Harpers, I guess,” I admit, looking away with a whole lot of shame coursing through me.

  “And you still want that?” he asks softly.

  “Yes. It’s silly, I know. I mean they’ve never really been the Bradys and I know I shouldn’t expect more. Hell, I knew when I was five years old that my parents aren’t exactly warm people. My two eldest brothers and younger sisters moved away straight out of school to make their own way and get out of the house. Only Daisy still sticks around, and that’s only because her and mother seem to get along so well.”

  “Then why?” he asks.

  I almost come right out of my skin when I feel his hand engulf mine where it’s laying along the sofa back, his thumb stroking my palm lightly, soothingly.

  I feel anything but soothed but I don’t dare pull away as I savor the contact and will my lungs to work.

  “I guess I just want something, ya know? I’ve always been a bit of a romantic.” I snort, catching sight of Patrick on the screen as he strokes a hand across Baby’s armpit.

  The thought sends shivers through me and I wonder what it would feel like to have Paul Summers touching me that way, so focused on me, stroking my skin with all that need and pent-up lust.

  “That’s not a bad thing, Dot, so never say it as if it’s an insult or failing. Romance and dreams are good things to have. I have dreams too, I just always make sure no one else ever has the power to take them from me again.”

  “Yeah?”

  Somehow I may have misjudged Paul Summers. Where I’d assumed he was some rich billionaire tycoon with a love for deals and power, I get the impression that he’s more simple and complicated than that.

  “Sure.”

  “How? How do you get them to see you and listen?” I whisper, gulping when his fingers reach the tender skin of my wrist and press into the pulse there.

  My heart is beating so hard and fast it hurts my chest, but I’m spellbound as he holds my gaze and seems to look right into my soul.

  “You take what you want, Dot. That simple.”

  The sexual tension ramps up, hard, fast, and I revel in it even as my breath stalls when he inches closer, stopping an inch away, his breath fanning my lips.

  “What if what I want isn’t a good idea?”

  I could kiss him right now and I know he’d kiss me back. I know he wants me. Besides him telling me that night in the limo, I can see it in the way his eyes darken and he seems a breath away from devouring me.

  “Oh, baby, sometimes the things that are bad are the most worth having. Tell me what you want and I’ll help you have it.”

  He’s not talking about dreams or freedom here. It’s all about the heat and lust pulsing between us. For once in my life I want to forget each and every obligation and worry and just go with what I want.

  I want to be the dorky girl who can’t dance but gets the guy anyway. I want to have one night of pleasure and dreams, just to chase away the pain in my heart because I know I’ll be losing Mother and Father soon enough, one dream broken and crushed.

  “I want you.”

  His eyes go hard and so hot, I feel ablaze with the need settling between my legs, the wet slide of my excitement perfuming the air around us.

  Paul’s mouth tips up for the briefest second before he leans in and lays the softest kiss across my lips.

  Then he pulls back an inch and gives me a grin.

  “You can have me. On one condition.”

  Chapter Five

  Rolling the Dice

  Paul

  I don’t think I have ever been this nervous in my life, and yet as I force myself not to fall on Dot Harper and screw the hell out of her on her girlie sofa, I still feel more alive than I have in a long time.

  I’m about to jump into the deep end, feet first, and even knowing that I have planned things out to the nth degree, I still feel as if I’m making that jump without a parachute.

  I like Dot, and the sexual attraction I feel for her goes a long way in assuaging my guilt for what I’m doing right now, but it’s still a big leap from confirmed bachelor to what I’m about to propose.

  “Oh God. I sound like such a slut for what I’m about to say.” She moans when the silence drags on, thanks to my need for just a little more time.

  Her hands come up to cover her face and I feel my chest squeeze a little for her, for her angst and pain and the dilemma she’s currently in.

  Dot’s one of those rare individuals who truly loves and gives of herself, so I understand that right now she not only feels terrible about wanting me while she’s pseudo engaged to Alex, but that she feels like it’s a betrayal to her family.

  I honestly like this about her. It’s a quality I have yet to see in most women. Or at least the ones I’ve had thus far. But I need to push her past the point of caring right now because I can’t allow that loyalty and her soft-hearted nature to stand in the way of what I want.

  Namely her. Under me. Taking everything I have to give her. The rest is like a bonus, but I am man enough to admit that it’s also partly just an excuse to get her.

  I’ve never wanted a woman this much in my life, not even Sarah, and while that scares the hell out of me, it also makes me feel excitement for the first time in a long while.

  “Dot.”

  “No! I mean yes. I, darn it. I want you and it makes me feel terrible to say, especially considering that I’m thinking about betraying my family for what is no doubt going to amount to a brief affair at the most, a one-night stand at the least. And that is totally okay because I don’t have it in me to want more right now. I mean, how could I when I feel like I’m about to freaking implode under the pressure?”

  She’s babbling right now and so adorable that all I want to do is laugh. I settle for stroking her hair and dissecting what she just said. Dammit. She’s not going to go for what I want, not in this hyper tense state of mind she’s in right now.

  But she has to.

  All I have to do is get her to relax and want me so badly she’ll do whatever I want her to do. And I know just how to get her to that point.

  “Shh, baby, it will all be fine,” I croon, pulling her hands away and brining her into my lap.

  It’s so not a good idea considering I’m sporting enough wood to fill a forest at this moment, but I feel her relax the slightest bit and slump into my chest as I stroke her hair and pepper soft kisses into the soft, sweet-smelling strands.

  “Your hair smells so good.”

  Like lavender and something else I can’t identify. It’s so thick and soft it feels like a swathe of cool silk against me and I have the mental image of all this dark red hair brushing across my skin as she licks her way down to my dick.

  “You wouldn’t have thought so an hour ago. I’ve had a really bad week and got told in no uncertain terms that my personal hygiene was not acceptable at the moment.” She snorts, making me laugh.

  I love her honesty as much as I love her shyness and the timid looks that come along with her blushes. Oh yeah. Dot and I are going to be wild together. So hot I can’t think of anything right now but getting her where I want her so I can finally relieve the ache inside.

  “Come away with me, Dotty. Let’s go away to my ranch
in Wyoming and just breathe a little before the world comes crashing in again.”

  She seems to stiffen at that and I let her pull away a little to look up at me. Her face is so sad and yearning, I vow that I’ll kill anyone who makes her feel this torn again. She’s soft and sweet. All she should know from others is kindness and adoration and before my time is up with her I’ll have her feeling so needed and wanted she’ll never be able to walk away from me.

  “That’s not a good idea, Paul.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, because it just isn’t. Mother needs me—”

  “No she doesn’t, Dot. Her and your father haven’t told you yet, I think because they want to keep you malleable for longer, but according to the doctors she’s in remission and well on her way to a good recovery. She’s known for two weeks now. As for the rest, they can fuck off and wait on you, baby. You look done in and you need a break. Come away with me and have some fun for once. Please.”

  Of course it helps that I met Indie at the Delights kitchen earlier when I went by looking for Dot, and she “let it slip” that she’s off for the next three weeks.

  “What? She already knows?” she breathes, her eyes going wide before they narrow and I see sparks of anger flit beneath the swirling blue depths.

  Thatta girl, Dotty, get mad. Get so mad that nothing they say or do can drag you down.

  “I’m sorry. I only know because of Alex.”

  Since I bugged his office and phone lines, I think silently, ignoring the twinge of guilt for my underhanded tactics. They’re necessary, so I’m only liable to lose like ten minutes of sleep over them, if any at all.

  “Dammit! I’ve been so worried about this and they know it! I even spent three hours on a freaking cake for her to cheer her up and she’s known this whole time?”

  I immediately miss her warmth and the soft press of her against my dick when she springs up and starts pacing, raging the whole while, but I gotta say that nothing is as sexy as Dot muttering to herself when she’s riled.