Hesitate Page 7

  Sadie thinks I’m moving too fast—with him practically living with me—even though it was her idea to pursue him when we had our initial talk about him. I’m not doing him justice by explaining just how fabulous he is, so I invited her over for dinner tonight. Kai has Cassie, and even though Q insisted it wasn’t a big deal if she came with, Sadie wanted to come without her. But it’s good to know that Q likes kids. Maybe he’ll want some with me one day.

  Continuing Q’s awesomeness, he came to the grocery store with me. But as I’m standing here, staring at the different types of pasta, it hits me. I don’t know why, but I realize he’s about to officially meet my best friend, and I haven’t met any of his.

  In fact, he never talks about his friends… or his family. Most of what we discuss centers around me, but if something about him is brought up, it’s kind of avoided or the subject swiftly and slyly changed.

  “Don’t think the right one is gonna jump off the shelf, sweetheart. You might have to actually pick.” His humorous voice startles me even though he’s been next to me the entire time.

  “Do you have a friend you want to invite over?”

  Too bad I wasn’t looking at him because even though I can’t see him, I can tell my question shocked him. “What?”

  I turn, and not surprisingly, I find him so close that my arm brushes him. Lifting my chin so I’m looking into his eyes, I repeat my question. “Do you have a friend you want to invite over?”

  “Um… not really.”

  “Not really you don’t have a friend, or you don’t want them to come over?”

  His shoulders tighten, and he straightens. “What are you getting at, Madeline?”

  Sighing, I shrug. “We’ve been seeing each other for almost a month now, and I just realized that you never talk about any of your friends. In fact, you don’t really talk about yourself at all.”

  “There’s not much to tell, babe. You know everything already.”

  “Do you have any friends?”

  He raises a brow. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Why don’t you invite one of them over? Maybe a single one. Sadie’s been through a lot lately, and it’d be good for her to meet a nice guy.”

  “I’m not a fan of setting up my friends, think I already told you that a while ago. It gets awkward if the people don’t click and—”

  “Okay, so a friend who’s not single, one who’s married. I don’t care.”

  “Why are you freakin’ about this?”

  I take a step away from him, and by the way he clamps his jaw tight, I can tell he doesn’t like that. He likes me close. “Why are you fighting this?”

  “Fighting what?”

  “Me meeting your friends. Do you not want me to?”

  “Of course not.”

  My confidence wavers even more, and shame makes my throat itch. “You don’t want me to meet them?”

  His face falls, and he shakes his head, lifting his hand to clamp the nape of my neck and tug me toward him. “No, of course not. It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I swear, sweetheart, I didn’t even think about it. I was just enjoying having you all to myself. I’ll call Brodie and see if he can make it tonight.”

  “Who’s Brodie?”

  “Buddy of mine. We used to work together, but we’ve stayed close.”

  “Where did you work?”

  He kisses my forehead, then drops his arm, and his hand finds purchase on my lower back. “Long time ago, we used to tend bar together.”

  “You never told me you used to be a bartender,” I accuse, and he arches a brow.

  “It was a long time ago, Madeline. Now”—he points at the shelf—“what kind of pasta are you getting?”

  Q

  We got back from grocery shopping, and Madeline got in the shower right away, so I dial Brodie and wait impatiently for him to answer. “Yeah?”

  “Madeline is getting suspicious, so I need you to come to dinner at her place tonight to give her peace of mind. Her friend’s coming too.”

  He laughs. “Seriously. A blind date, Q?”

  “No, not at all. Just need you to reassure her I’m not embarrassed of her or some shit and don’t want her meeting my friends.” I’m a fuckin’ moron for not thinking of this, but in my defense, I was truthful when I told her I was enjoying just being with her. I also wasn’t planning on this taking so long, but lo and behold, still fucking nothing, so I didn’t have precautionary measures in place like I normally would. I’ve never had a case go this long without some kind of lead. I hate that I still have the same amount of intel I did over a month ago, but I love having more time with her. “She didn’t have to say it, but I know she’s thinking that it has something to do with Roxy.”

  “Damn,” he clips. “Her mom really fucked her up, didn’t she?”

  He doesn’t know the half of it. This beautiful, funny, and smart as hell woman is so insecure because the female who was supposed to build her confidence did the exact opposite when she needed it the most. Madeline was alone and afraid nearly her entire childhood, and it’s a damn shame, especially because she’s very aware of the fact that her mom fucked up her past, but she’s in denial about how much her life is still being affected by her mother. Separation doesn’t heal wounds.

  And when she finds out that all of this, me… us, is a result of her mother, I know I’m gonna lose her, and I’m dreading it. But I have her now, so I’ll make do with that. “Yeah, she fucked her up, Brodie.”

  Madeline hasn’t come out and told me who her mom is. She’s literally not brought it up since the first night we went out, and I haven’t tried to push the subject. But I see it. I see how she avoids looking around when we’re out to dinner or something because when her face isn’t hidden, men stare. She subconsciously shuffles close to me and burrows against me for protection against complete strangers who assume she’s just like her mother.

  A low curse from Brodie comes through the receiver. “I can be there. What’s my cover?”

  Luckily, I’m not a moron, so I made sure to leave lots of room for interpretation. “We used to tend bar together a long time ago.”

  “Sounds good. Text me whatever else I need to know, and I’ll be there. You brief Erik yet?”

  The water to the shower shuts off. “Not yet, haven’t had the chance.”

  “Cool, I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “You’d do it for me.”

  I would. I have, actually. Being single and having no other life outside of work makes it so I can do a lot of things for a lot of people. Something I’ve excelled at purposely, so I have less time to think about the fact that I’m single and have no life outside of work. “Gotta go.”

  He disconnects, and I hang my head, almost ashamed with myself for lying to her. No, not almost. I am ashamed. Because under any other circumstances where Madeline and I would have met, I’d have made her mine without question. She’s perfect for me, and in my real life, I am for her. She does it all for me. Her quick wit, her smarts, her beauty, her goofy ass laughter, and the way she gives up all her inhibitions and trusts her tight little body with me, but mostly, I love how she looks at me when she thinks I’m not looking.

  She stares at me, thinking I could give her the world. It’s bittersweet, because she’s what makes mine spin, yet I’m going to be the one who shatters hers. But before I do that, I’m going to set her universe on fire, so that when this all blows up in her face and the only thing left behind is the ashes, maybe she’ll remember the sparks between us weren’t always destructive.

  I walk down her hallway and find her much like I did that first morning a month ago. Hopping around on one foot, cursing to herself, she’s practically naked. Leaning against the doorjamb, I cross my arms and watch her put on a show as she finally steadies herself by putting one hand on her dresser and applies lotion to her sexy as fuck long, toned legs.

  She does the other and sets the bottle down, then lifts her head to look
into the mirror. She gasps as her eyes find mine.

  “Don’t move,” I command, and she swallows.

  “Q.”

  “Shh.” I walk up behind her and curl my body over hers. Looking at her in the mirror, I slide her hair over one shoulder and kiss the spot she loves, right where her neck meets her shoulder. The tiny hairs on her arms stand up, and she shudders.

  I trail my hands up her sides and then in, bringing them up to cup her tits. Her lids get heavy, and her neck lax. When her head begins to fall forward, I pull both of her nipples, eliciting a sharp cry from her, but she raises her head again, fire in her eyes now.

  “I said don’t move. Watch.” I cup each of her breasts in my hand and massage them, grazing over her hardened nipples, pinching, caressing. “You wet?”

  “Mmm.” She’s already so far gone she can’t form words.

  I love that about her.

  “Let’s find out.” I slant one arm across her chest and slide one down, over the trimmed hair. My middle finger glides easily between her slick folds and right inside. She pushes up on her toes, and I cup her, my palm applying pressure against her swollen clit. “Yeah, you’re wet.”

  “Q.”

  I slide my finger out, then down, circling the tight pucker between her juicy ass cheeks. Uncertainty is written all over her face, and I drop my chin to her shoulder, my lips right next to her ears. “We don’t have much time, so I need you to come quick for me.” Slamming two fingers inside her, I press my palm down and grind it against her sensitive flesh. I love how her breath hitches. How the walls of her already tight pussy spasm immediately. How her hips tilt and her ass pushes against my dick, relieving the smallest amount of pressure.

  Her orgasm is coming; I can feel a rush of wet and the pulsating around my fingers. “Fuck, yeah. Good girl, baby. So pretty. See how pretty you are?” I grab her hair and pull her head back, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror as she climaxes, panting my name and quivering around me. “Beautiful.”

  Her head falls forward when I let go of her hair and slant my arm across her chest, holding her upright, and I’m left to stare at my own reflection. And what I see looking back at me is the face of a man who’s been possessed by sheer beauty. Even though loving her will be his own demise, he doesn’t care, because that kind of beauty is worth risking everything for.

  Chapter 8

  Madeline

  I jump when a strong set of hands slide around my waist and pulls me back into a muscular chest. Q’s breath is by my ear, and it makes me shiver. “Relax, sweetheart. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “She’s my best friend and—”

  “I know. And seriously, babe, there is nothing to be nervous about. If you like her, I know I will, too. And since I’m guessing she’s the kind of friend I think she is, she’s going to be happy that you’re happy, and she’ll give me a chance.”

  I relax into his hold, which honestly, it’s a shock I’m even able to get wound up right now after what he did to me when I got out of the shower. I have never had a lover who so easily read me and was able to bring me to climax so quickly. Another thing to add to the perfection of Q. Dream man. My man. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be nervous about you two meeting, but for some reason, I am. I think I’m more nervous about meeting your friend, and now I’m mad at myself for even saying anything about it earlier.”

  “He’ll love you, Madeline. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  I’m not given any more time to overanalyze because there’s a knock on my door. “It’s Sadie. I’ll get it.” Another reason Q is so amazing is he told Brodie to come about ten minutes after Sadie was supposed to arrive so I’d be more comfortable with her here first.

  I push away from Q, but he yanks me back and slants his head, lowering it until his lips slowly work against my own. My fingers curl into his shirt, and I whimper against his mouth when the heat from our kiss starts to slither south. He pulls back with a cocky smile. “Relaxed?”

  “Yeah.” When he drops my arm, I stumble a bit, and he smirks. He loves knowing that he makes me unsteady with just a kiss. I stick my tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

  When I reach the door, I yank it open, and Sadie immediately shakes her head. “Why are you freakin’, Maddy?”

  “I’m not freakin’,” I lie.

  “Sure, you’re not. No reason to, though. We’re adults, and I’m sure he’s a great guy… he’s gotta be great for you to keep him.” She closes the door behind her and hands me a bottle of wine and walks the few feet to my kitchen to set the dessert she brought on the table.

  It takes a second for me to catch up to her, and when I do, Q’s standing right there, next to the stove, legs crossed at the ankle wearing a grin on his face that I’m sure is supposed to be friendly, but is sexier more than anything. He looks from Sadie, who’s frozen to the spot, to me, then quirks a brow. “Told you.”

  “Told her what?” Sadie interjects.

  He drops his chin and gives her his attention, taking a step toward her. “Told her not to worry.” As I should have known, he’s perfect. “Nice to officially meet you. I’m Q.” He sticks his hand out, and Sadie shakes his with her own.

  “Sadie. Same. And she can’t help it. She’s a perpetual pessimist. You’re a lot bigger than I remember from the bar that night.”

  “That’s because you were wasted,” I joke as I stand next to her, and she rolls her eyes.

  “Not as wasted as you,” she murmurs.

  Q chuckles, and I frown, looking back and forth between the two of them. A weird embarrassment coupled with cattiness takes over, and before I can think about the words coming out of my mouth, I say, “Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a good idea if all you guys are going to do is make fun of me.”

  The humor leaves Q’s face, and he takes a step away from the counter and reaches out to grab my hand, then tugs me to him. He resumes his position with me plastered to him. “Nobody’s makin’ fun of you, sweetheart. But you’ve gotta chill the hell out. We’re good, okay?”

  I wasn’t. But then he kisses my forehead, and I lift my head to find nothing but love shining from his eyes, and I am now. “Yeah, sorry. Everything’s okay.”

  “Right.” He kisses me again, and I go back to the stove and take out a piece of spaghetti from the pot to make sure it’s ready to strain. “You want a glass of wine?” he asks Sadie.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  While Q pours both me and her a glass, I strain the pasta. I’ve just dumped it back in the pan when there’s another knock on the door, and not only does it startle me, but I know it’s his friend, so I jump about a foot in the air. I always hate meeting new people, especially men, because the majority of them recognize me as Roxy’s daughter, and even if they don’t say it, I can tell by the way they fuck me with their eyes that they do. “It’s just Brodie, I’ll get it.”

  Sadie’s gaze darts to me in question, and I bite my lip. “I forgot to tell you his friend is joining us tonight, too.”

  “You did not,” she snaps.

  “No, no.” I shake my head. “It’s not a setup, I swear. I just thought it’d be a good time for me to meet one of his friends, too, promise.”

  Her skepticism is thwarted when in walks a man who is almost as hot as my man. He’s about an inch taller than Q and not as bulky, but muscular just the same. His hair is a shade lighter, but his eyes a couple of tones darker. Instead of a little bit of stubble, Brodie has a perfectly trimmed beard and a tattoo across his neck that’s equally parts sexy as dangerous.

  “Madeline, this is Brodie.”

  I swallow thickly as Q makes his way to me and tosses an arm around my shoulder, steering me toward his friend. “Hi.”

  “Hey, nice to meet you. Q says nothing but good things.” He sticks his hand out, and I shake it quickly, then tip my head up to look at Q.

  “You talk about me to your friends?”

  Instead of answering me, he rolls his eyes, then lifts his chi
n at Sadie. “That’s Sadie, Madeline’s best friend. Sadie, my buddy, Brodie.”

  “Hey.” She smiles and goes to stand from her seat at the table, but Brodie takes a large step toward her.

  “Don’t get up on my account. It’s cool to meet you, too.” He holds his hand out again, and Sadie plops back down and sighs when she wraps her fingers around his.

  “Same.”

  Q chuckles next to me and kisses my cheek before asking, “Beer?”

  Brodie drops Sadie’s hand and turns to his friend. “Yeah, thanks.”

  And just like that, things go off without a hitch and we have a great night. It’s been better than I could have imagined, actually. Dinner was awesome, everyone got along really well, and there was fun banter since the moment Sadie and Brodie arrived. We’re sitting around the living room, nibbling on the pie Sadie brought, when she suddenly drops her fork. I twitch at the clank, but the sudden noise doesn’t seem to faze either of the guys. “You two are men,” she states.

  Q nods with a grin. “I am.”

  Brodie raises a thick brow yet at the same time manages to draw the two of his together in confusion.

  “So let me ask you guys. If you got a woman pregnant while you were married to someone else and you told the other woman you’d leave your wife, but you never actually leave your wife and say the reason is because you’re waiting for the other woman to tell you to leave your wife, would you actually leave your wife for the other woman?”

  I bite the inside of my cheek and wait for their answer. Instead of Q taking the initiative, Brodie’s the one who sets his plate down and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “First of all, I’d never get another woman pregnant while I was married because I’d never fuckin’ cheat on my wife.” Sadie’s eyes flash to me. “Secondly, are you telling me that your baby’s daddy is still married and says he’ll leave his wife, but is waiting for you to tell him to leave her before he actually does it?”

  “I never said it was my baby’s daddy.”