Read Shot Caller (A Bad Boy's Baby Novel) Online
Authors: Colleen Masters
Poppy
Since
all of my friends are back in New York and I’m not exactly the Tinder-ing type,
I guess I have two choices for this Friday night. One, I could hit up one of Atlantic
City’s fine male strip clubs. Two, I could crack open a bottle of red wine and
curl up with a novel.
Magic Mike XXL
vs.
Pride and Prejudice
…Now
that’s a tough one.
I
can’t bring myself to watch the game. It’s bad enough that I can’t be there, I
don’t need any salt in that particular wound. Instead of torturing myself, I do
the very opposite and treat my body to a nice, long yoga session. My muscles
are wound up like springs after the last couple of days. Hardly surprising,
what with my and Maddox’s first—and maybe last–fight.
Heading
up the spiral staircase to take a shower, I wonder whether or not I should give
Mad a call. Even a text could initiate peace talks. But is there even any point
in trying to talk things through, seeing as the club might ban us from being
together anyway? There are just too many moving parts in this conundrum for me
to keep track of. First things first: a shower, a glass of wine, and a few
chapters of Jane Austen. I need to relax before I make any big decisions.
I
let the hot water cascade down my body, savoring the warmth against my tired
body. I’ve grown unaccustomed to sleeping apart from Maddox. Usually, I’m so
tired out by our athletic lovemaking that I sleep like a rock. But without Mad
around to tire me out, I’m having trouble quieting my anxious mind. Even now,
in the early evening, I’m having trouble shutting out my most pressing worries.
Am I going to lose my job over this affair? What will I tell my parents? Is
there any chance that Mad and I will be able to carry on with…whatever it is
we’ve got going?
My
reeling thoughts are interrupted by a powerful knock on the bungalow’s front
door. Turning off the shower, I stand rooted in place, hoping that whoever it
is outside will just go away. No dice. Moments later, a louder knock rings
through the beach house. My heart starts to pound as I grab a towel and pad
toward the front bedroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of my visitor. What if
Jason has showed up on my doorstep again, looking for trouble? Or what if some
intrepid reporter has tracked down my home address in search of a follow-up
story.
“Poppy!”
a rich voice calls from
my front porch, “Poppy, are you in?”
Relief
and excitement commingle in my blood as I hear Maddox’s voice loud and clear.
Clutching the bath towel to my body, I can feel every one of my cells perk up
with hope. He’s here. At my house. But what does that mean? Is he here to make
amends or call things off for good? Only one way to find out. I step lightly
down the spiral staircase to ground floor and head for the door on quavering
legs. So flustered am I by Maddox’s sudden appearance that I completely forget
about my state of undress…until I open the door, that is.
Maddox’s
eyebrows raise in surprise as he takes in the sight of me in my towel. I blush
furiously as my foolishness hits me, not least of all because Maddox himself is
dressed impeccably as usual. In his black jeans, charcoal gray tee shirt, and
distressed leather jacket, he’s the epitome of easy cool. His brown hair is
lightly tousled, the stubble on his jaw slightly more pronounced than usual.
His grey eyes gleam with amusement as I hurry away from the doorway, ushering
him inside before any unseen paparazzi can get a shot of me.
“Nice
getup,”
he
notes, as I close the door behind him, “Did you put on your best bath towel
just for my sake?”
“Oh,
shut up,”
I
mutter, tying the towel in place and trying to ignore the pressure between my
legs as Maddox enters my home. His mere presence is enough to get me going.
“Are
you on your way out?”
Mad
asks, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets. If I didn’t know better, I’d
think he sounded a little jealous. Of my imaginary plans, that is.
“Not
right this second,”
I
say vaguely. Best to not let him know that my plan for this evening is drinking
alone and reading about bustles.
“Good.
That’s good,”
Mad
says, “Because I need to talk to you about something.”
Oh god,
I think to myself,
That’s
never a good start…
“Right.
OK,”
I
stall, heading for the kitchen, “I’m just gonna go ahead and pour myself a
drink first. Do you want anything?”
“I
always do,”
Mad
replies, practically vibrating with pent-up energy. Whatever he has to tell me,
I get the feeling it’s big. But whether I’m celebrating or mourning after he’s said
his piece, a drink will come in handy either way.
“So,”
I go on, pouring two deep
glasses of Merlot and handing one to Maddox, “What is it you want to talk
about?”
“Our
little predicament, obviously,”
Mad
says, letting his eyes trail down my nearly-naked body.
“Oh.
Right. That,”
I
reply softly, taking a long sip of Merlot as that pounding between my legs
intensifies.
“Now,
when I first read that article in Glover’s office, my first thought was—we’re
fucked then, aren’t we?”
Maddox
begins, pacing before me like a caged lion. “Especially given how mad Glover
and O’Leary seemed about the whole thing, not to mention you getting pissed off
at me for coming clean—”
“And
rightly so,”
I
cut in.
“Sure.
Whatever,”
Maddox
goes on, “It seemed like a done deal, us getting forced apart. But then, I was
talkin’
to
Charlie earlier—you know, your favorite lowlife criminal?”
“Ha,
ha,”
I
reply, “You slay me, Walcott.”
“I
was talkin’
to
Charlie, and he gave me an idea. If the press is trying to make our ‘secret
affair’
into
a scandal, why don’t we just beat them to the punch and cash in on the press
coverage instead? The club wouldn’t be able to say no to that kinda publicity.”
“I’m
not sure I’m following you,”
I
tell him, “Beat them to the punch how?”
“Right
now, your little snitch of an ex and all the gossip mills he’s whispering to
have all the power. They think we don’t want anyone to find out about us, that
it would be some huge disaster if the word were to get out.”
“Hasn’t
it already been just that?”
I
ask.
“We
just haven’t been thinking about it the right way,”
Maddox says excitedly,
taking a step toward me, “What if, instead of trying to shut down the rumors
about us, we fuckin’
embraced
them? What if we owned being the Empire’s resident power couple and used it to our
advantage instead?”
“Mad,”
I begin, shaking my head,
“I really don’t think Glover and O’Leary will go for that. Not after
yesterday’s blowup.”
“Glover
and O’Leary don’t have a choice,”
Maddox grins down at me, “I’ve already
gone over their heads.”
“What?”
I ask, totally lost.
“I’ve
just come from Dale Tucker’s office. As in our owner Dale Tucker,”
Maddox says in a rush, “I
explained the whole situation to him, Poppy.”
“Jesus
Christ, Maddox!”
I
exclaim, “What happened to us talking things over before taking drastic
action?”
“Listen,
Poppy,”
Mad
says firmly, taking my hands in his, “If you’re not a fan of drastic action,
then you have no business being with me. Which would be a shame, seeing as we
absolutely have Dale Tucker’s blessing to carry on.”
“We…He
said…What?”
I
breathe, feeling the room spin madly around me.
“Tucker
thinks that our being a couple is the best publicity ploy he’s ever heard of,”
Mad laughs, “His club
needs all the headlines it can get, and an Empire romance would be a
press-making machine.”
“So
would we be a couple then?”
I
press, “Or just a ploy?”
“Both,
I guess,”
Maddox
says, searching my face, “Tucker gets what he wants, the fans get what they
want, we get what we want. Tell me that isn’t a win-win situation?”
“It…It
does sound like that,”
I
allow, feeling my heart swell in my chest, “But Mad, I thought…I thought you
were through with me, after yesterday.”
“What?”
he says, genuinely
surprised, “Why would you think that?”
“I
mean, we had that huge fight,”
I
tell him, glancing down at the kitchen tiles, “I insulted Charlie, the club…”
“We
both said some stupid shit,”
Mad
replies, lifting my chin and locking his grey-eyed gaze to mine. “But if we’re
going to do this couple thing, Poppy, we need to be able to fight once in a
while.”
“I
guess you’re right…”
I
tell him, feeling the corners of my mouth lift into a smile, “I still can’t get
over you using the word ‘couple’
though.”
“Don’t
you worry,”
he
says, placing his hands firmly on my hip, “Just because we’re talking about
being a couple, doesn’t mean we can’t keep fucking like it’s a dirty secret.”
I
clench my thighs together as a pang of longing swells in my core. I’m suddenly
very aware of the fact that only a flimsy towel separates my body from Mad’s expert
hands.
“So
we’re in the clear?”
I
ask, resting my hands on Mad’s muscular forearms.
“As
long as we can live with Tucker making us the poster couple of the Atlantic
City Empire, then yeah…”
Maddox
replies, circling his arms around my waist, “Do you think you can live with
that?”
“I’m
sure I could learn to,”
I
smile, pressing my body flush against his.
“Good,”
he growls, leaning down
to whisper in my ear, “Because I’ve already gone two days without feeling you
around my cock. I don’t think I could go another.”
“That
makes two of us,”
I
breathe, my back arching as Maddox reaches up under my towel and trails two
strong fingers along the length of my pussy.
“Think
we can actually make it up to your bedroom this time?”
he grins, rubbing his
fingertips lightly across my clit.
“We
can try,”
I
laugh, clutching onto him as my knees threaten to buckle.
All
at once, I feel myself go airborne as Maddox lifts me up and drapes me over his
shoulder. My towel falls away onto the kitchen floor as he spins me around and
makes for the spiral staircase. This is really not how I pictured tonight going
for me, but I’m sure as hell not complaining. Thanks to Maddox’s quick
thinking, there may be hope for us yet. Not that I have any idea what I even
want out of this relationship in the long-term, but in the short term my
desires are perfectly clear. I want Maddox. All of him. As many times as
possible. The rest, we can figure out later.
“I
guess this means our fight is over, then?”
I gasp, as Maddox lays me out across my
bed, naked and ready.
“Almost,”
he growls, shucking off
his leather jacket and lowering his lips toward mine, “Though you’re forgetting
the most important part of any fight.”
“What’s
that?”
I
breathe, fingering his belt buckle.
“Makeup
sex,”
he
grins, bringing his lips to my throat.
“Of
course,”
I
moan, as my hands run along his hard, throbbing length, “How could I forget
that?
”
Poppy
Well,
I think to myself as I
open my eyes Sunday morning,
this weekend has been far more eventful than I
anticipated.
Since
Maddox showed up to my beach house on Friday night, bearing a solution to our
dilemma on a silvery platter, we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each
other. The relief of knowing that our coupledom is sanctioned by the highest
power in the Empire has unleashed a whole new wave of sizzling lust over me and
Maddox alike. It’s a good thing I stocked up on groceries before this weekend,
otherwise, I’m sure we would have forgotten to eat for three days straight.
We’ve only come up from under the covers for food, water, and some much-needed
showers—though those too just become opportunities for hot, sudsy fucks.
I
always thought that keeping our affair secret was part of what made it so
hot—but being out in the open adds a heat all its own.
Rolling
over onto my back in the early morning sunlight, I can’t help but bask in the
moment. I’ve got a gorgeous man in my bed, an amazing job that I might just get
to hold onto, and a deliciously sore and sated body thanks to a few rounds in
the sack last night. In short, I have no complaints.
A
wave of nausea takes me by surprise, and I swing myself to sitting on the edge
of the bed. OK, so I do have
one
complaint. This weird stomach issue
that first made itself known Thursday afternoon has been bugging me ever since.
At first, I thought I’d made myself sick with the stress of Glover and O’Leary
finding out about my affair with Maddox. But even now, after Dale Tucker has
warmed to the idea of our relationship and shut down any objections, I’m still
feeling queasy. Maybe I should sit down and have an actual meal that consists
of something other than diner grub, red wine, or junk food.
But
not right this second, it would seem. Another rolling wave twists at my
stomach, and I hurry across my bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. Closing
the door as quietly as possible, I kneel down in front of the toilet and let
myself be sick, hoping not to wake Maddox. When the nausea subsides, I sit back
on my heels and flush away the evidence of my sickness. I’m not prone to
stomach problems—I’ve always had a belly of steel, and quite the appetite to
boot. Oh, god. I hope this isn’t a gluten allergy I’m developing. What the hell
would my life be without carbs?
Walking
over to the sink to clean myself up, I smile as a warm sea breeze drifts in
through the cracked window. In just a week or so, it’ll be May. Spring will be
in full swing. I can’t believe how far into the Empire’s season we already are.
Not to mention how quickly the time is flying now that Maddox is in my life.
The very thought of Maddox prompts me to grab my birth control pills out of the
medicine cabinet and pop one into my palm.
Glancing
down at the rectangular sheet, I realize with a jolt that I’ve reached the end
of this pack. All three rows of yellow pills are gone, and this one is the last
of the white pills. How can that be possible? I should have gotten my period at
some point this week. My cycle usually runs like clockwork, especially with the
help of my birth control. I look up at my reflection in the mirror, projecting
an extra two decades onto my 34-year-old face.
My
mind starts to spin dizzyingly as I examine my youthful features. I can’t be
going through menopause already, for god’s sake! I’m still in my thirties! But
isn’t there such a thing as premature menopause, too? Failure of the ovaries
before the age of forty? But I’ve always been in such great health. There
haven’t been any warning signs of…
Suddenly,
I feel as though the ground has opened up beneath me. Time slows to a crawl as
I stare down at my flat stomach, then back at the toilet, and finally to the
empty packet of birth control sitting on the counter. My mind fights like hell
to keep my next thought at bay, but it’s determined to smack me square between
the eyes.
Could
I be
pregnant?
I
brace myself against the bathroom sink, my arms trembling as they strain to
hold up my stunned body. I can’t ignore the facts as they scroll like ticker
tape through my mind. I should have gotten my period over a week ago. I’ve been
feeling nauseous all weekend. Mad and I have been going at it like
nymphomaniacs for the last month. Haven’t I been diligent about taking my pills
since our affair began? Yes, of course. Except…
“Except
for that first night,”
I
breathe, staring at myself in the mirror.
I
hadn’t known for sure that night at the Tangier that I would end up sleeping
with Maddox. Sure, I hoped something would happen between us, but there was no
guarantee. We were both too caught up in the moment to remember a condom, and I
know for a fact that I’d gotten lazy with my birth control in the years since
my divorce. I hadn’t been in a steady relationship since Jason, after all. And
I doubled up with condoms during all my flings. Before Maddox, that is. Could
that one night of throwing caution to the wind have resulted in…in…
“A
baby?”
I
whisper, barely able to form the words.
All
my life, I’ve been of two minds about having kids someday. On the one hand,
motherhood is always something I’ve wanted for myself. But on the other, my own
desire for a child never felt like a compelling enough reason to justify
bringing a life into the world. My own mother had me for the sake of keeping up
appearances, filling the role society expected her to. I never wanted to have a
child without carefully thinking it through. Jason and I started to talk about
it when we were married, but I knew in my gut that he wouldn’t be a good father
and partner. And I was right. This whole year leading up to my 35th birthday,
I’ve been starting to let myself down easy, getting used to the idea that
biological kids just might not be in the cards.
Unless,
suddenly, they are?
A
knock on the bathroom door nearly sends me through the ceiling. With my heart
in my chest, I spin around to see Maddox stepping into the bathroom, his
chestnut hair mussed from sleep. He raises an eyebrow at me, knowing at once
that something is up.
“You
OK in here?”
he
asks, leaning against the doorway.
“What?
Me? Sure!”
I
squeak, my voice skyrocketing up by at least an octave. Way to play it cool,
Abrams.
“Right.
You’ve totally convinced me,”
Mad
laughs, moving toward me across the small space. I hold my breath as he slips
his arms around my waist, holding me close. “Seriously, though. What’s got you
so jumpy?”
“I…I’m
just…”
I
stall, burying my face in his chest.
“Are
you nervous about tomorrow?”
he
asks, smoothing down my tousled hair.
“Uh.
Yeah. I guess I am,”
I
allow.
It’s
not a total lie. Tomorrow is the first day Mad and I will be back on the job
after the fiasco with our bosses last week. Dale Tucker had a talk with Glover
and O’Leary over the weekend, getting them up to speed on his idea to turn this
affair into a publicity triumph. Thanks to Jason’s tip to the papers, rumors
have been swirling around me and Maddox all weekend—speculation about our
status as a couple, the club’s reaction, everything. But tomorrow, Dale Tucker
himself will put out the word that Maddox and I are official. My life as I know
it is going to change.
Maybe in more ways than one
,
I think to myself, glancing over at the empty pack of birth control pills
sitting on the bathroom counter.
“Look,”
Maddox says, lifting my
chin, “I know it sucks, us giving up control to Tucker like this. But it’s the
only way we could keep seeing each other without getting our arses kicked out
of the Empire.”
“I
know. And I’m glad you went over Glover’s head on this,”
I tell him, “It’s
just…scary, is all.”
“Sure
it is,”
Maddox
grins down at me, “But what worth doing isn’t?”
“Beats
me,”
I
say softly, laying my cheek against his chest, “Beats me…”
I
force myself to take deep, steadying breaths as Mad runs his hands over my
back. There’s no need to get ahead of myself, here. For all I know, my cycle is
just messed up from the huge change in my schedule that’s come with this new
job. Or the insane amount of sex I’m having all of sudden. I can’t just jump to
the conclusion that I’m pregnant. That’s
crazy
. I can’t even take a test
for another week or so, and god knows I’ve got enough excitement coming up with
me and Maddox taking this thing public.
“Just
relax,”
Mad
murmurs, letting his hands slip over the rise of my ass. He tugs my body to
his, letting me feel the impressive enormity beneath his boxer briefs.
“I
might need a little help,”
I
say softly, lowering my hands to his gorgeous member, “Relaxing, I mean.”
“I’m
sure I can be of some assistance there,”
he grins, brushing my ash brown hair back
behind my ear.
I
let my eyes flutter closed as he brings his lips to my neck, kissing down
across my collarbone. His bare chest is warm against my cheek as I press myself
to him, relishing the feel of his mouth against my skin. Slowly, I slip my
hands under the band of his briefs, wrapping my fingers around his massive
cock. I feel him grow stiff the instant I touch him—god, I love knowing how to
turn him on.
Maddox
lets his hands run up along my torso, taking a firm hold of my tits as I work
my hands along his cock. We moan as one as he kneads my tender breasts, running
his thumbs across my hard nipples. I can feel myself getting wet as he kisses
me deeply along my throat. His every motion sends any lingering worry flying
out of my mind. When this man puts his hands on me, fuck if I can think of
anything else.
“I
need you in my mouth,”
I
breathe, tugging down his briefs and letting his hard cock spring free. Pushing
him back against the bathroom sink, I start to sink to my knees in front of
him. But before I can take that glorious cock between my lips, he pulls me back
to standing.
“Wait,”
he says, his voice low
and rasping, “I have a better idea…”
Taking
my hands, Maddox leads me back to bed, his thick cock standing at full attention
as we go. His grey eyes flare with passion and purpose as he rips my tee shirt
up over my shoulders, tears my panties down with one swift motion. There’s fire
in his gaze as he pulls me down into bed with him. Laying on his back, Maddox
pulls me firmly onto him. I straddle my mountain of a man, letting the tip of
his cock brush against the wetness between my legs. The lines of his
innumerable tattoos seem to stand out in sharper relief when he’s this worked
up.
“You
want me on top?”
I
grin, running my fingers along his sculpted, ink-covered pecs.
“You
could say that,”
he
murmurs, a crooked smile lifting his lips.
Maddox
grabs hold of my waist and spins me around as if I were weightless. He tugs my
hips back, drawing my pussy toward his eager mouth. My back arches as he licks
along the length of my pulsating slit, running his tongue along my pink, silky
flesh. His cock stands just before me, begging for my touch. Leaning forward, I
draw Mad’s throbbing head into my mouth, running my tongue all around his
bell-shaped tip.
His
fingers dig into my waist as he delves deeper into my throbbing sex, stroking
me from top to bottom with his masterful tongue. I wrap my fingers around his
cock, working him hard as I take him further and further into my mouth. We
unleash our mouths on each other, driving ourselves mad with the doubled
sensation of giving as good as we get. I can feel my knees beginning to tremble
as I careen toward orgasm, and I can tell by the very taste of Maddox that he’s
close, too.
“I
need to feel you inside of me, Mad,”
I moan, glancing back at him over my
shoulder, “Can I?”
“Fuck
yes,”
he
growls, licking the taste of me from his lips.
I
raise myself above Mad’s staggering form, letting his cock graze against my
pussy as I steady myself. Letting my head fall back between my shoulders, I
slide myself inch-by-inch onto his thick, rock hard member. My mouth falls open
as he collides with the very core of me. I’ve never felt him so deep inside of
me before. We rock our hips as I ride him, bouncing on his magnificent cock as
if it were a bucking bronco. God knows, Maddox is just as dangerous as any
angry beast of burden.
My
clit rubs deliciously against Mad’s thrusting cock as I lean back against him,
pulling him as deeply into me as I can.
“I’m
right there,”
I
moan.
“Good,”
he breathes, holding my
hips tightly, “I want to feel you come, Poppy.”
“Tell
me,”
I
gasp, bucking against him, “Tell me to come…”
“I
don’t think I’ll need to,”
he
murmurs.