Chapter Twenty-Six - Paxton
I need you? What could Victoria possibly need with Cindy? I knock on the door to Nolan’s office. “Hey. You guys in there?”
“Come in,” they both chime at the same time. Like they’re nervous. Hiding something.
I look at Tori and squint my eyes. “Victoria,” I say, greeting her with cold suspicion.
She squints her eyes right back. “Paxton,” she says. “Who are you supposed to be? Dick Tracy?” She huffs some air. “Well, you and Sparkle Plenty here have a good time. I have to get back to my family.”
Victoria pushes past me and leaves before I can say anything else.
I look at Cindy and sigh. “I’m sorry.”
She looks me up and down and tries to suppress a smile. “Are you Dick Tracy?”
I look down at my trench coat and then take off my fedora. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long. We just… ran into a few problems.” Cindy says nothing and I get a bad feeling about what she and Victoria might’ve been talking about. “Did… did Victoria fill you in?”
“No,” Cindy says sweetly. “No. I was up here looking out the window waiting for your car to arrive and she came up with your mother to introduce herself.”
“Hmm,” I mumble. “She’s wild and dramatic. So it’s best to take anything she says with a grain of salt. Why didn’t you answer my calls?”
Cindy twists one of her long blonde braids. “I got rid of my phone. I was mad.”
“Are you still?”
“How can I be mad when you show up here just in the nick of time, Detective?”
“Cute but Psycho, Miss Cookie?” I ask through the smile as I nod at her outfit. Goddamn. Her tits look spectacular in that tight t-shirt. “On anyone else I’d chalk that declaration up to a quirky sense of style, but on you it makes me nervous.”
Cindy takes a step towards me, her boots thudding on the hardwood floor. Which makes me notice the rest of her. The long, tanned legs peeking out from that short flirty skirt. The jingle of her bracelets that remind me of all the times she showed up at my house in that zipper-clad leather jacket.
It makes so much sense now, how didn’t I see it before?
“Cinderella Shrike,” I say. And then a chuckle comes out. “It’s every bit as sexy as Miss Sugar Cookie.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, like it’s her turn to explain. “I shouldn’t have lied about who I was. But I knew you’d never look twice if you found out.”
“Everyone looks twice, Cindy. Everyone.”
We stare at each other for several long seconds and I can’t help but wonder if things have changed now that I know.
They haven’t for me, that’s for sure.
“I love you,” I say, taking off my ridiculous fedora and holding it to my chest. “But it makes me nervous.”
“What does?” Cindy says, crossing the distance between us and placing her hand on my arm. She is heat. Even though my trench coat costume, I can feel her touch like we are skin on skin. “Me? Because I’m Oliver’s sister? Or because you’re involved in something bigger than you thought?”
I scowl. “What did Victoria tell you?”
“Is that what you want this conversation to turn into? The jobs? The work, Pax? What you do? What I do?”
“I just want to know how much I need to say right now.”
“About where you were? What you were doing? Or how it turned out?”
“Cindy—”
“No,” she says softly. “Don’t. You don’t need to protect me, OK? I’m Cinderella Shrike. I grew up with this shit, Pax. Do you really think I don’t know what my family was into before I was born? I do.”
“What are you talking about?”
Cindy shuts up as her eyes widen.
“Cindy?” I say. “What does that mean?”
“You’re my brother’s best friend, right? He never… talked about us? My mom and dad?”
“I’ve met them, of course. Nice people. Your dad is cool as fuck and your mom is… well. It’s probably not appropriate to say anything else about your mom.”
She stares at me and for a second I think she’s going to get mad at how I might perceive her mother. But then she laughs loudly and looks down at those adorable boots on her feet. “They call me the Baby Bomb. I mean, you’ve seen my sisters, obviously, so we are all little baby bombs. But I am so much like her in so many ways. Rory was such a princess—”
“Princess Rory,” I say, smiling. “Aurora. Why the fuck didn’t I figure this out?”
“But we’re so opposite. My sisters are classy and I am…” She looks down at her outfit. “Well… not. I’m nothing but an explosion waiting to happen.”
“I want to fuck you.”
Cindy laughs. “Why, Detective,” she says. “That’s not what this conversation is about.”
“I don’t care, Cindy. I don’t give a fuck whose sister you are. I don’t give a fuck what Oliver thinks. And even if I’d known that first time you came to my door with my food, there’s no way in hell I’d ever look at another woman again.”
“He’s coming here, you know.”
“I know. And I don’t care what he thinks. I’m good for you. I am. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, Cindy. Or put you in danger. You’re not part of this, OK? You’re not going to get mixed up in this whole Mister world. You won’t. I can keep you safe. No one,” I say, pulling her into my chest and wrapping my arms tightly around her, “will ever hurt you as long as I live.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and hugs me back. I can smell her hair, and her skin, and her clothes. And everything about her is sweet and good and delicious. “It’s cute that you think I need protecting. We’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out and take care of it. We’ll—”
“No,” I say, pushing her back a few inches so I can look down at her face. “No. You’re not understanding me. There is no we in this Mister problem. Yes, the other guys and I will figure it out, but you’re staying here with Ellie, and Ivy, and Tori. Oliver really would kick my ass if I dragged you into this.”
“Paxton,” she says, grabbing hold of my biceps with both hands. “He’s my brother. What happened to him happened to me too. And yeah, I was too young to understand what it all meant at the time. But I get it now. I understand. I’m as much a part of this as anyone. I’m not going to just sit back and let these people put him in danger. Or you, for fuck’s sake.”
I want to shake her right now. Ask her what the fuck Victoria Arias said. What little plan she might be hatching and how she might’ve tried to involve Cindy. Because that’s the kind of woman Tori is. But I don’t want to fight about this bullshit now. “I haven’t seen you in weeks, Miss Cookie.” My hands slide down to her ass and lift up that flirty little skirt until they are cupped against her cheeks with only her silky panties holding me back.
“The first time I walked in his office I wanted nothing more than to have him bend me over his desk and fuck me from behind.”
“Jesus,” I say. “Yes.”
“I wanted the window shades wide open so anyone passing could see us.”
“Fuck,” I say, my dick getting hard. I have a feeling she’s just trying to change the subject away from our real-world problems but I don’t really care.
“I wanted him to slip his fingers under the elastic of my panties and pull them down to my knees—”
I drop my hat on the floor, turn her around, and push her face first onto the desk, lifting her skirt up, as I grab her panties. “Like this, Miss Cookie?” I tug on them. Hard, making her gasp as I drag them down and kick her legs open with my foot. “Spread ’em, ma’am.”
She giggles, but complies, so her panties are stretched taut at her knees. “I hope you have a warrant for this illegal search, Detective.”
“I don’t need a warrant, Miss Cookie. You’re mine now. And I’ll search you whenever I want.” My fingertips lightly trace her inner thigh as I bend down. She shivers and arches her back, sucking in a breath at my soft touch. “I think you might be hiding something.”
She giggles again as I kiss that little dent behind her knee and make my way up the back of her leg. “Where could I possibly—Oh,” she sighs, when I nip her ass cheek.
“Yeah, ‘oh’ is right,” I mumble, inhaling her sweet scent as I place both hands on her ass and begin to lick between her legs. She trembles when my finger finds her clit and begins to stroke.
“My God,” she says, her breath coming quicker. “I’m ready to confess.”
“You’re not getting off that easy, you little trollop.” Her laugh is loud. And happy. And holy fuck, she makes me so damn happy back. “I know you won’t tell me the truth unless I ease it out of you. So maybe I need to ease something into you”—I insert a finger into her pussy, searching for the trigger to make her crazy with lust—“to get your full attention.”
“Pax,” she moans.
“That’s Detective Pax to you.”
“Detective—” But she can’t finish because my tongue is swirling around the rim of her perfect little puckered asshole. Her arms go above her head on the desk and she stretches forward, giving me more access. “I want to come right now. All over your face.”
I stand up and smack her ass, leaving a perfect red handprint on her right cheek. “Not yet, my pretty little cookie. I’m just getting started. Dessert can come later. Much later.”
I pull her up and quickly spin her around, her big blue eyes wide with surprise, and want, and everything that makes a man happy when he’s with a woman. I lift her shirt up, find a sweet, pale-pink bra under that graphic tee, and lick my lips as I study the way her breasts practically spill out around the white eyelet lace.
“I’m gonna have my cake and eat it too, Sugar. They say it can’t be done, but it’s happening. Right now.” I push her so she is forced to lie back on the cold, hard surface of the desk. Her chest is rising and falling with the anticipation of what’s coming. God, she is so damn hot. “I missed you,” I say impulsively. “Did you miss me? Or was it easy to move on and forget?”
“Detective,” she whispers. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were smitten with me.”
“You have been the only thing on my mind for weeks. Call it whatever you want,” I say, looking down and noticing that her panties have dropped to her ankles. I reach down, tug them around her boot, and then put them in my trench coat pocket for later. She gives me a knowing smirk, but I don’t care. I kick her legs open again, then reach down, grab under her knees, and hike them up to her chest.
Her eyes track mine as I lower myself in front of her open pussy. She’s glistening with readiness, but I’m just getting started.
One sweep of my tongue is all it takes to make her moan. “If you make me squirt on this desk—”
I laugh loudly just picturing it. “Miss Cookie, if I make you squirt all over Nolan Delaney’s desk, my life will be complete. I will hold that over his head for decades to come. Pun intended.”
She laughs, reaching for the collar of my coat, pulling my face to hers before I can object.
The kiss is sweet. Her full lips taste like strawberries. Our tongues dance together like we’ve been practicing these moves for a lifetime. Her hands are in my hair, on my face, then her fingernails dig into my arms. “You have too many clothes on. I want to feel your skin. Take off that ridiculous coat.”
“Are you ordering me around?” I laugh into her mouth as I kiss her again.
“Please,” she begs. “Take it off.”
I stand up, shrug the coat off, and then slip my t-shirt over my head. She stares at my chest before lowering her gaze, eyes lingering on the precise muscles of my stomach. She flattens both palms onto my skin as heat creeps into my body.
“You’re beautiful,” she says. “You know that?”
I shake my head. Very slowly. “You’re lookin’ in the mirror, Sugar. It’s not me you’re seein’.”
She bites her lip, eyes bright with mischief. “And sweet too.”
“I’m not the one covered in sprinkles, Miss Cookie.”
“I’m going to marry you, ya know.”
I lean down and take her face in my hands, fingertips brushing small circles against her cheeks as I stare into her blue eyes. “And have my babies?” I ask. “Little baby sugar cookies?”
“Maybe little baby brownies,” she whispers. And then she frowns. Deeply. And whispers, “Don’t leave me like that again. I was so sad.”
Oh, God. I am sad too, just thinking about it. “I’m really sorry I did that. I was just busy, Cindy. And it was confusing and being hired to kill a friend is kinda fucked up.”
“I would’ve helped you.”
“No,” I say. “I mean, I know you’re capable. But no. I don’t want you involved in any of this.”
“I’m already—”
“Shhh,” I whisper, kissing her mouth to stop this conversation. “Later. We have forever to talk about this. But right now all I want to do is enjoy everything about you.” Before your brother gets here and we have to duke it out, I don’t add.
She sees—or maybe senses—what I’m thinking and frowns again. It makes creases in her forehead as her little nose scrunches up. But she doesn’t push it. Instead, she reaches down and begin unbuckling my belt. She says, “I want to take off your pants.”