Morrison (Caldwell Brothers #2) (5 page)

Checks and balances. The scorecard is even with Caldwell. As hard as I try to convince myself that I owe him nothing, however, it’s not working.

He put his mouth on me, on my body.

I run my hand over my breasts and down my stomach as my skin continues to tingle from his touch. How much more have I messed up my life in my moment of weakness tonight? How did this all spin out
of control so damn fast?

I smack myself in the face.
Snap out of it, Hailey.
How could I have allowed myself to be mesmerized by a suit-wearing fucker again?

If the car hadn’t honked, would I have stopped him?

My mind races as I go through the motions. Stopping at a red light, I sit in idle, looking down at my trembling hands, noticing that my ring finger still has the indention from wearing
my bands for so many years.

Have I become the whore my mother was? I promised Marisa I would give her better. Yet tonight, under the bright Vegas lights, I lost myself once again to a man.

Reaching up, I touch a trembling hand to my swollen mouth, and my mind immediately goes back to the feel of his lips on me. He had his mouth on
me
. He made my body come alive under him, and I was helpless
to stop myself. The sensations…Never, ever have I felt what I felt tonight, even before he touched me. Just working him up in our verbal spar had my panties wet.

I drop my head in shame. Am I that desperate for attention?

A horn honking behind me makes me jump. Looking up, I see that the light has turned green, and more embarrassment fills me as I fumble to get my head focused on driving home.

Home.

Tears prick at the back of my eyes. The small room Marisa and I occupy is not a home. How am I going to get out of this mess? I need to focus on the hustle. I need to get into a game, not waste time fooling around with a high roller who only wants a roll in the sheets. I cannot allow myself to get caught up again.

I turn on the radio, needing a distraction, and “Tell Me Why” by Three Days
Grace is playing. Story of my fucking life, but I have the one thing I love, and I will protect her with my life.

Finally home, I prepare for my shower. Turning on the water, I sigh as I run my hand over my naked body, and memories of his touch rush back again. I wash as my body tingles with more need, and finish more frustrated than I was to begin with.

I’ve made mistake after mistake after
bloody mistake. Am I ever going to get anything right?

I make Marisa breakfast after I wake her up. Then we pack up her lunch and I take her to her preschool.

She goes half days to a local pre-K for three-year-olds. It has been great socialization for her and a welcome break for me since leaving Monte, allowing me the time to sort out some things in our life. Before, she only went because Monte
felt that was the “appropriate” thing for her to do, but of course it was added to my balance sheet, as the school didn’t come cheap.

“Mrs. Timmons, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Carrie, the school director, comes out from her office to talk to me.

I give Marisa a quick goodbye, send her off to her classroom, then nod, wide-eyed, at Carrie.

“Your husband called, and he explained your
separation. He also informed us that you would be covering Marisa’s tuition.”

My heart sinks, my stomach drops, and suddenly my feet feel like complete lead. Checks and balances. Tip the scales to stay in control—that is Monte’s mentality.

After a moment, she continues, “Mr. Timmons also said you could call him to discuss payment arrangements with him should you need assistance in caring for
your daughter.”

I drop to my knees in front of her as my world crumbles further. Tears freely flow down my face, and I don’t care who sees me. Carrie gives me this, but not for long. She has a school to run, and it’s not good for business to have a mom on her knees in the entryway. Therefore, when she gives my shoulder a firm squeeze, I take that as my silent cue to get my shit straight, and
fast.

Checks and balances.

Squaring my shoulders, I stand and wipe my tears. Tip the scales all you want, Monte. I will not bow, and I will not break.

Spending my morning crunching numbers, I find that, as long as we can stay with Jamie for a few months, I can pay the tuition. I can’t make payments to Monte, but Marshall has gotten me an extra few months, which gives me time to get in the
game.

I have to get in one of the games.

Night comes all too soon, and Marisa drifts to sleep after only three fairy tales. With my mind all over the place, I am thankful for the reprieve.

With the chaos of the day I haven’t given myself time to think of Caldwell, but as I finish applying lotion to my legs while readying for work, I silently beg not to run into him tonight. I have to get focused
on the game and, more important, on the players, not on some high roller.

A game can be won or lost based on giving away or reading a tell, and I gave up too much to Caldwell too quickly. He could read me. That shit stops now.

I begin my shift in a daze. With every tip, I mentally calculate my bills. It isn’t long before I feel the burn, the sting of someone watching me. I glance around the
casino floor to find
him
.
“Call me Caldwell”
resounds in my head, and I squeeze my legs together as I instantly ache for him, remembering when I called out his name.

He smiles and winks before turning back to his game, the chips lined up in front of him showing he’s clearly winning. Knowing he is here, I feel like the temperature has gone up about a hundred degrees.

So much for not ever seeing
him again.

Of course, I couldn’t be so lucky. No, I am still stuck in the life of hard knocks and probably always will be.

Desperation fills me, making my chest tighten in anxiety. I don’t make it five steps before he is beside me.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” I mutter, trying to make my way to another table.

“Got a room here. Why don’t you come by and have dinner with me?”

I look up at him, and
for a moment, I get lost in the depths of his blue eyes. He uses this to his advantage and takes my hand, but I jerk away as though he’s burned me.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He trails a finger over the name tag pinned to my left breast. “Hailey, calm down.”

“I have to work,” I whisper, then take off to the back to give myself a moment.

His touch ignites something inside me that I never
thought possible. Desire? Could it be? It’s all new. I have never allowed myself to feel anything. My life has been a repayment—never before have I experienced excitement and, dare I say, sensuality.

Pushing through, I continue my shift, completely distracted by him at every turn. When I make a call home to check on Marisa, Jamie laughs at me and my frustrations over Caldwell.

“Girl, live your
life, for the first time ever. It’s one night. Have your time and leave his ass in the morning before he gets up. I got Ris Priss. You haven’t ever had a chance to fuck around. Once, babe—just once fuck him and know that Monte definitely doesn’t have the scale tipped in his favor.”

I get off the phone in shock. No way can I freely fuck around. Then my mind immediately goes back to the feeling
of his mouth on me, and I tremble as I make my way back to the floor to finish my shift.

As I clock out, my mind is on removing this outfit and getting into some sweats. Preoccupied, I am unaware of his approach, and I stumble as I try to get out of his path. When he extends an arm and holds me up by my biceps, I automatically tense at his touch.

His eyes search mine, and shamelessly, I can’t
hide my expression. I didn’t tense because I am afraid of him. No, Caldwell’s touch has the ability to make my heart skip a beat, then break into a thundering rhythm that makes me feel like it could burst right out of my chest. His presence is undeniable, his pull magnetic. He consumes me without even trying.

Without a word, his lips crash against mine, and the second his tongue invades my mouth,
I start thinking of his mouth on other places. Then the noise around us dissipates, and the only thing I can think of is the sensation of his lips against mine as his tongue dances deliciously in every corner of my mouth.

He nips, he sucks, and he laps as we somehow make our way to the elevator and then to his room. It all happens so fast I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to try. Clothes are flying
as he electrifies me further with every touch. My shirt: gone. My skirt: gone. His shirt now lies on the floor, with buttons scattered everywhere. My nipples are so tight that, when the air hits them as he removes my bra, I feel like I could explode with desire. He backs me to the wall, and I moan.

Needing contact, needing him, I wrap a leg around his and practically climb him as he encircles
my head with one hand, messing my hair up, while his other scoops my ass and I wrap both legs around him.

Ecstasy. He hasn’t even fucked me yet, and I am in pure ecstasy.

His hand slides inside my panties. He reaches my center, and I throw my head back against the wall as his fingers slide in and out, my inner walls beginning to tighten around his digits. He inserts another finger, and I can’t
stop myself as my body builds, working to a release. This should be considered criminal.

I tense as my body keeps climbing higher and higher. Inhibitions go out the proverbial door as I grind down against him, seeking my release. He laughs lightly in my ear before he licks my neck, then sucks on the sweet spot behind my ear. Then his head drops to my breasts, where he takes my nipple in his mouth.
He licks, he sucks, and I am gone, my orgasm washing over me.

As I come down, he carries me to the bed, where he gently lays me down as if I am some prized possession. Before I can clear my mind, his mouth is on mine in a kiss that is full of passion, need, and desire, all untamed and unbridled.

“I need to be in you, Hailey.”

I don’t give it a second thought. In the two encounters I have had
with him, he has given me the only pleasure I have ever received from a man. Now he needs to be in me—checks and balances.

I open my legs to him as he drops his pants, rolls on a condom, and then delicately removes my panties as if he was opening the best present in his whole damn life. Under his gaze, my insecurities creep back up, but before I can dwell on them, he is over me, and then he is
in me.

Filling me.

Every inch of my body quivers as he stretches me, then stills inside me and stares down at me, watching me, taking me in. Never have I been so full in so many ways. This moment is so intimate, so vulnerable, but at the same time, it feels like a true connection. What is it about this Caldwell man that consumes me?

“Platinum,” he whispers before he finally moves.

I can’t
think of what that means, because he is suddenly building me up to another orgasm. He rocks, he rolls, he grinds, and I am helpless to do anything but take the pleasure he continues to induce inside my body before I finally burst again, calling out his name and biting into his shoulder just to remind myself he is real.

With two more thrusts, he stills, then lets go right behind me. He gives me
a soft, slow kiss before pulling out, and when he goes to dispose of the condom, I find myself feeling empty. But the moment of space allows my mind to function again.

Empty
. How can someone I don’t even fucking know make me feel so empty just by leaving my side for a second? I am certifiably insane to be so wild over a complete damn stranger.

With that thought, dread washes over me. The fog
is gone. He is still a complete stranger, and I am still a whore. However, he comes back before I can make an escape. Crawling into the bed beside me, he pulls me to him. Then, at my hesitation, he moves away to give me space.

“Talk to me.”

“I need to go.” I remove my legs from his and cover my breasts.

“Not yet. Talk to me. An hour ago, you were clawing me like you wanted to devour me. You
just came twice, babe. I gave that to you.” He strokes my face and taps my temple. “It’s obvious I want in there. What’s going on in your head?”

“Nothing. I just need to go.”

“Deny what you feel, and I’ll say not one word as you leave,” he challenges.

I hesitate, my eyes flickering, and he reads me.

“Deny it. Deny
me
.” He smirks, causing my body to feel like it’s on fire all over again.

“I don’t know you.”

“Name’s Caldwell, Morrison Caldwell, middle brother to Hendrix and Jagger from Detroit. What else you wanna know?”

“What’s your play?” I ask, feeling the obligation hit me. He’s right—he gave me not one but two orgasms. We’re not even.

Before I can continue, he replies, “No play. You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and I’m drawn to you. I wanna know you.”

“Talking naked isn’t really my thing,” I respond, feeling very vulnerable and even more exposed than before.

Without a word, he gets up and tosses me a button-up shirt from his closet, and I slip it on, realizing I am not getting out of this so easily.

I can do this. I can talk until he falls asleep. Then he gets what he is requesting, and I’ll be out of sight and out of mind.

I give him a bit
of general chitchat where I avoid all of the important answers, then pretend to be tired, and he settles in behind me and orders me to sleep. Controlling my breathing, I let him believe I am enjoying dreamland. When he finally relaxes his embrace and his breathing steadies, I know he is sound asleep. Now I can make my escape.

My heart beats loudly in my ears as I shift from under his naked body.
Scooping up my panties, I slip them on under my work skirt. I start to unbutton his shirt to leave it behind, but as I move, I smell it—I smell him. Not wanting to risk him waking, I skip putting on a bra and changing into my shirt, deciding it’s best to stay in his.

I look back at him one last time. “Caldwell” is tattooed down his spine in black ink. I will never forget that name, but I sure
as hell will force myself to forget his touch, his taste, and his tenderness.