Chapter Seventeen

Hadley

I was going to kill my mother. Kill her. My body ached and my poor neglected clit literally screamed for release. The only thing holding me together at this point was the knowledge that the night would end in Blake’s bed. Blake. The look on his face when I took off my shirt—that alone could have made me orgasm. Instead, I held back, and now I was kicking myself for it.

I spotted Zane and Cat over by the kitchen talking to Mr. Brass and the guy who was obsessed with renaissance fairs, I forget his name, but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of his kilt. I’d never seen one up close and personal before.

“Holy shit, that looks just like Tim Conway,” I heard Blake whisper from behind me. Was I the only person on the planet that didn’t know who Tim Conway was?

Mom was in the corner making margaritas, while Miss Weston was conversing with Mr. Brass’s wife, Dani. From the smells permeating the room, someone was in the kitchen making more tacos. I hoped it wasn’t Tilly. In her state she would probably burn the place down.

Just as the thought entered my brain, Tilly’s head popped up from the back of the sofa, and she shouted, “Blaze! You’re back. Wow! That was fast!” Shoot me now, I thought.

Zane stepped back to widen the circle as Blake and I approached. “Who’s that?” he asked, nodding towards Tilly. I opened my mouth to answer, and that’s when it hit me that Cat had told Zane my mother was dead.

“Who?” Cat asked. I took a quick step back, so Zane couldn’t see me, and shook my head at her. Instead of looking at me, her eyes followed Zane’s over to Tilly. “Oh, that’s Hadley’s sister,” she told him.

“And the shot glass twin?” he asked with a knowing look on his face. I closed my eyes and braced for it.

“That’s Hadley’s mom,” she told him. For a smart woman, she sure was stupid. Zane’s eyes flew to mine and I quickly glanced away. Uh-uh. This was her lie, not mine.

“You told me Hadley’s mom was dead,” he stated, now staring ominously at his wife. The realization of what she’d just done skittered across her face. For a split second, I thought she was going to come clean, but then her brow puckered in confusion.

“I did?” she asked. What a little sneak. I couldn’t wait to see how this would play out.

“Yes, Cathryn, you did. If you’ll remember, that’s why I hired Hadley in the first place, because she was grieving and needed to be close to friends.” Zane glanced over at Blake and Cat bugged her eyes at me, as if asking for my help. No way. She got herself into this mess. She could find her own way out.

Realizing that she’d well and truly stepped in it, did she give up and confess? No, she perpetuated the lie by asking, “Are you sure you weren’t talking to someone else?”

“Cathryn,” Zane warned. The two of them were hilarious together. Unable to hold it in any longer, I burst into laughter.

I felt Blake’s hand wrap around my chest and his mouth at my ear. “Were you in on this?” he asked. Cat was now glaring at me, which only made me laugh harder.

“No,” I gasped, my shoulders shaking with hilarity.

Cat expelled a long, exasperated sigh and finally came clean. “Fine. I didn’t like your choice, so when Hadley called and told me she was pregnant, I came up with a better solution.”

“You lied,” Zane corrected.

“It was more of a slight manipulation,” she defended. Zane looked as if he was about to blow a gasket.

“Congratulations are in order!” Blake blurted from behind me. I stiffened in surprise and his arm resting across my middle tightened in response. The room went silent. “Hadley’s having my baby,” he finished on a gush of air. I couldn’t have been more shocked. Talk about outing a situation.

“Congratulations!” Mr. Brass called out. As someone shoved a glass in Blake’s hand, all discussion of Mom’s so-called death was forgotten. That’s when I realized what a genius Blake was. He’d diffused the pending fight between Cat and Zane by calling attention to us. I wasn’t quite sure I liked his tactics, but I agreed with the end result.

Over the next hour, I learned that Miss Weston was having a liaison with renaissance man. I also had a conversation with Cat, where I explained how the evening had originated. It was hard for people to believe that my mother was, in fact, insecure. She’d been using Tilly and me as an excuse to make herself feel better for as long as I could remember. Today’s excuse was her poor, friendless daughter. Tomorrow’s would be something different. I told Cat not to feel bad for me. I was used to it.

When a karaoke machine appeared, I was done. Blake, on the other hand, wasn’t. He was yucking it up with all of the men and preening about his pending fatherhood. At least he wasn’t drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

My mother and Tilly were first in line to sing. Forget that Tilly was drunker than Cooter Brown. If there was an opportunity to humiliate herself, she took it.

“Watch,” I told Blake, who’d ambled up beside me. “Mom will pick a throwback and Tilly will want something more modern.” Sure enough, Mom picked ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” and Tilly wanted Rhianna’s “Love On The Brain.”

“Can either of them sing?” he asked.

“They can, but they shouldn’t.”

“Great,” he muttered then asked, “Are you ready to head out?”

“And miss this? Not on your life,” I snickered.

Mom, of course, won the battle, and ABBA it was. Tilly, just to be mean, mumbled her way through the song, which in turn made Mom mad, and they ended up arguing through the last half of the song. When it was over, Tilly stormed back to the sofa and Mom disappeared into the kitchen.

I turned to Blake with a beaming smile. “Well, that was entertaining. Ready to go?”

He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re related to those nuts.”

“Me either,” I muttered.

On the way out the door, we were stopped by Cat and Zane.

“You can’t leave now. The party’s just getting started,” Cat complained.

“Nice toga,” I heard Blake say to Miss Weston.

“Blake and I have plans,” I told Cat, and we both smiled.

“This, my pretty, pretty man, isn’t a toga,” Miss Weston drunkenly retorted.

“It’s a kimono!” Tilly shouted from her perch on the sofa.

“It’s a caftan!” Dani shouted back at Tilly.

“A caftan is what they wear in India!” Tilly argued.

“No, that’s a burka,” Tim Conway corrected.

“It looks like a toga,” Blake murmured.

“This, my fine people, is a muumuu,” Miss Weston corrected.

“No, it’s not!” Tilly argued.

“It most certainly is!” Miss Weston snapped. I could tell she was getting angry.

“Whatever it is, it’s ugly,” Mr. Mainard mumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Ted!” his wife shouted. Miss Weston’s face turned a scary shade of red and I could tell by the way her hands were shaking she was about to blow.

“Time to go,” Blake whispered. I kind of wanted to stay and see Miss Weston lose it. Visions of the room exploding popped into my head. The thought of finally being alone with Blake, however, trumped Miss Weston’s meltdown, so I waved at Cat and mouthed, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before letting Blake drag me from the apartment.

“Don’t leave me, Blaze!” Tilly shouted after us.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I shouted back at her.

“Look! This is a toga! This, is a kimono! This, is a burka! And this, is a muumuu!” I heard Miss Weston shriek from halfway down the hall. Blake and I looked at each other, our eyes wide with surprise before bursting into laughter.

When we reached the car door, instead of opening it for me, Blake pressed me against it.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he uttered before lowering his lips to mine. My body instantly ignited. God, this man! All it took was one kiss and I was panting for it. My hands went to the back of his head, to pull him closer, while his went everywhere. I felt one on my breast and the other at my hip. Being that he was considerably taller than me, I could feel his very impressive erection rubbing against my lower abdomen.

I was second’s away from ripping off my clothes when he pulled back. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Then he yanked me forward and opened the car door. As he spun me around, he slapped me on the ass, and said, “Get in Gold Digger.”

“Oh, Blaze, you say the sexiest things,” I flung back at him, and grinned when I heard his laughter ring out.

Blake held my hand the entire drive to his place. Music played in the background, but I couldn’t focus on the songs. All I could think about was the man sitting beside me and how much I wanted him. As we pulled onto his street, I could literally feel my heart pounding in my chest. This was finally going to happen. Then a thought occurred. What if that night was a fluke? What if the reality isn’t as good as the memory?

“You okay?” Blake asked. I’d been so deep in my mini freak out that I hadn’t heard the car turn off.

Shaking off the panic, I turned to him and smiled. His black hair was mussed from where my fingers had been.

“I’m kind of nervous,” I admitted, then wanted to kick myself for being so damn transparent.

His brow furrowed. “About?” he asked.

“If you’ll remember, we were both pretty drunk that night.” He grinned. Then he touched his lips to mine. Seconds later we were in full-on make-out mode. Before it got out of hand, I broke the kiss. We were breathing so heavily that the windows were beginning to fog. I’d never made out in a car. Then again, until Blake, I hadn’t done a lot of things.

“Still nervous?” he asked.

I thought about it for a second and realized I wasn’t. Blake had literally kissed the nerves away.

“Actually, I’m not,” I admitted.

“Thatta girl. What do you say we take this party inside?” I answered him by grabbing my bag from the floorboard at my feet and opening my car door.

We managed to make it inside and all the way to Blake’s bedroom before the clothes came off. Blake started by whipping his shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor. Broad shoulders led to well-defined pecs, which tapered into washboard abs. The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement as he watched me salivating over him. My breath hitched when he took a step in my direction.

When we were toe to toe, he whispered, “This would be easier without clothes, Hadley, but I’m always up for a challenge.” His oh-so-subtle way of telling me to get on with it worked. I lowered my hands between us, where I grasped the hem of my shirt and slowly pulled it over my head. Blake’s eyes immediately dropped to my chest and flared in appreciation. I had to admit, of all the things my mother hadn’t given me, my breasts weren’t one of them. Mom, Tilly, and I all three were blessed in the boob department.

“Jesus, you’re gorgeous.” His words of praise were empowering. I felt gorgeous when he stared at me this way. So much so that I initiated the first move by rising to the tips of my toes and pressing my lips to his. That was all it took. His hands flew to the clasp of my bra, while mine dropped to his fly. My bra dropped to our feet as I drew down his fly and dipped my fingers beneath the waistband of his boxers. His pants joined my bra on the floor and he barely had time to step out of them before I shoved his boxers down his muscular legs. His cock sprang free and I took a second to gaze in admiration. I wasn’t one to wax poetic about penises. Until Blake, they all looked pretty much the same to me. However, just like the rest of the man, his cock was...well, perfect.

“He’s sensitive to criticism,” Blake uttered, and I realized I was staring at his penis as if I’d never seen one before. “I’m kidding,” he murmured, when I didn’t respond. His hands on the waist of my sweatpants snapped me back to the moment.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long time...since I’ve seen him, I mean it...I mean a penis,” I stammered.

“Do me a favor and never use the word penis.” I could tell he was teasing by the smirk on his face. He jerked in surprise when I reached between us and wrapped my fingers around the object of our discussion.

“What would you like for me to call him?” I asked.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, “Try cock or even dick. Hell, you can call him man hammer for all I care, just as long as it’s not penis.” Slowly I stroked up and down his velvety hard...

“Man hammer?” I asked with a quirk of my brow.

“Can we discuss this later?” he panted. I pulled my hand away and he pounced. Unlike me, Blake didn’t linger. He dove right in and in seconds had me stripped bare. I didn’t have time to think, much less stress, before my back was on the bed and a hard, naked, very aroused man was hovering over me.

“Please don’t ask me to speak Spanish. I don’t think my man hammer can take it.” My face flushed with embarrassment and he laughed. Then he sealed his mouth to mine and any embarrassment was forgotten. I stroked my hands across his warm back while his lips trailed searing-hot kisses down my neck to my chest. His mouth on my nipple nearly catapulted me from the bed.

“Sensitive!” I gasped.

His head shot up, his golden gaze intent on me. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, just...maybe a little gentler?” I asked. His attention dropped back to my breasts and within seconds he had me writhing. By the time he made it down south to my sweet spot, his hair was standing straight up on his head. From the way I’d been tugging on it, I was surprised he had any left. I felt his warm tongue between my legs and groaned. God, this was goooood. Each time he licked, I got closer. By the time he got to the main event, I was coiled tighter than a rattlesnake in a chicken coop. So tight, that the second he gave the littlest of sucks, I exploded on a scream.

He rose above me like a wild-haired warrior. “My turn,” he growled as he lined up his man hammer and hammered it home. As he thrust in and out of me, I touched every part of his body within my reach. I could tell he was close when his breathing deepened to more pronounced pants. I wasn’t planning on another orgasm, but when he dropped his hips and began grinding into my clit, I was instantly elevated back to that place.

“Come with me, Hadley,” he ordered after a few more clit grinds, and like a bird, I soared. When I came back down, Blake was draped across my body like a warm, somewhat- sweaty blanket.

“I love your man hammer,” I whispered, and smiled when I felt his body shake with laughter.