Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Three

 

Lainey

We shouldn’t be here. Anyone could see us, but there was no stopping Nick. Even across the parking lot, I could see the fire in his eyes. It made me weak. He made me weak.

He walked with a purpose that said he was going to have me no matter where we were and who was present. And that insatiable need was too exciting to resist.

So I let him take me right here, between a thin line of trees and Reese’s expensive vehicle. His hand grips my hair. The wool of his pants rubs against the backs of my thighs. I hear the slap of our bodies, the thin cries that leak out despite all my efforts to stay silent, and the harsh puffs of his breath at my ear.

He works me relentlessly until my orgasm overtakes me. I sob into his hand as he tries to muffle my sounds. My legs turn into jelly and if it wasn’t for his iron band of an arm around my waist, I’d collapse. I gasp for air, heartened that the unsteadiness of his breath matches my own.

“Shit,” he curses as he pulls out.

A warm trickle of his seed slides down my inner thigh. No condom. “I’m on the pill,” I sigh slumping against the car window and silently apologizing to Reese for the mess I’m making. “And there hasn’t been anyone else since you, remember?” We’d made those declarations inside, and I believed him. Hopefully, he believed me too.

He rests his forehead against the back of my head. “You make me crazy, Lainey.”

I laugh, although it’s with little humor. “Same.”

I give myself another moment to rest before pushing away from the car. I rearrange my clothes and then bend down to look for my purse. I dropped it at some point. I think about the time he kissed me.

By the time I locate the thing, halfway under the runner of Reese’s SUV, Nick has put himself to rights, as best he can. Even in the dim light of the lot, his suit coat looks wrinkled and his shirt looks like it was chewed on by a dog. I’d crumpled it in an effort to touch his skin.

“Sorry about your shirt,” I say quietly.

“I’m not.” He smooths a hand over the front but it doesn’t do any good.

I spot a dozen fingerprints on the window of Reese’s vehicle. Groaning, I try to rub an arm across the side of the glass, but I only serve to make it worse.

Nick snorts. “Reese would approve. I’ll take it to the car wash tomorrow.”

“All right.” I drop my arm. Now that the rush of passion has passed, I’m feeling uncomfortable and awkward. Restlessly, I shift from one foot to the other. My thighs are sticky, and I’d like nothing more than to go back to the hotel and take a shower.

Lifting a hand to swipe my hair away from my sweaty forehead, I search for the right words. Thank you? No, that’s kind of insulting. Good to see you? That’s marginally true. I can hardly be in your presence without wanting to tear your clothes off, and I’m not even supposed to be in Dallas so I’d better go? All true but nothing I can say out loud. I settle for, “You’re having a great season.”

Nick tilts his head and peers down at me like I’m some crazy person. And he’s not entirely wrong. Coming here to Dallas wasn’t entirely dangerous but going to the Maverick’s bar on Sunday night after the game? It’s like begging Chip to come after me. But Charlie swore Chip was gone for the week due to his grandmother dying.

“I’m having a great season? That’s all you’ve gotta say after this?” He waves an impatient hand toward the SUV.

“I don’t know. What do you want me to say? It was good. It’s always good.”

He makes an impatient sound and then grabs my elbow. “Where are you staying?”

“The Holiday Inn over in Arlington.” I have to trot to keep up with his long strides. “I’m calling an Uber.”

“The hell you are.”

We stop by Nick’s Porsche Spyder, a low slung sports car that he barely fits into. He likes his cars fast and sleek. Charlie told me the car was so expensive that she was afraid to breathe on it.

He pulls open the passenger door and shoves me inside. I debate fighting him on this, but I know I won’t win and haven’t I made enough of a spectacle of myself tonight?

Nick slides in next to me and guns the engine. The powerful motor sends a vibration through the entire vehicle and my extra-sensitive parts feel it everywhere. I can’t help but squirm in my seat which prompts Nick to shoot a dark, heated look in my direction.

Whatever our conflicts are—and they are many—neither of us can deny the attraction. His hand tightens around the shifting knob as he speeds up onto the highway.

“How’s Cassidy?” he asks, his cool tone at odds with the tenseness of his frame.

I force myself to sit still. “She’s doing okay. Thankfully, she’s young so it doesn’t matter where she goes to school. She’s happy to see Nana again.”

“We miss her.”

“She misses you too.”

“You should bring her to the city. I can set game tickets aside for you.”

I watch the city pass by in a blur as I search for a good way to tell Nick that can’t ever happen. “Maybe an away game.”

He sighs, and in that exhale, I hear his resignation and the tiredness in his voice. The pleasure has worn off, and he’s beginning to wonder why he’s making the hour-long trek across town. Tonight the traffic is light but tomorrow it’ll be a bear. And I’m difficult. I’m not doing what he wants and worse, I’m not giving him any explanation.

“Why’d you leave? You have a good support system here,” he asks, interrupting the quiet that had settled in the car.

My heart twists. Because I had to. Because I love my daughter and would do anything to protect her. Because I was young and foolish. “Because it was the right thing to do,” I settle on. “I know it seems wrong to you but for Cassidy and me, it made sense.”

“Is it your mom? You can’t move your mom here?”

“It’d be too expensive. I can get a couple young people to come and watch her and Cass for a fraction of what it’d cost in Dallas.”

“What’s her diagnosis?”

“We’re not sure. Docs have said she might have early onset dementia. She’s got signs of Alzheimer’s but she’s young for that.” I twist my fingers in my lap. “They just don’t know.”

“I wish you’d let us help you.”

“Do what? Pay for her care? It’d be so expensive.”

“Money isn’t a real problem. Not for Charlie or me.”

“I know. But I’m not that kind of person.” I could never take that kind of money from my friends. “She’s got a new prescription. Docs think that’ll help a lot.”

“So this is it? We have sex and you leave?”

His tone grates on my nerves. It’s not like he’s ever offered anything more to me besides his dick and his checkbook. Maybe that’d be enough for some girls, but it’s not for me. “Are you telling me you want something more?” I wait for a beat, and when he doesn’t speak up, I force myself to beat back a wave of disappointment. “It’s football for you, and it’s Cassidy and Mom for me.”

He grunts but doesn’t correct me. “So what’s left for us? This night?”

“I guess.”

 

The post Lainey’s List Chapter Thirty-Three appeared first on Author Jen Frederick.