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Claim My Baby (Dirty DILFs Book 2) Page 5


  Only academically. As far as personally? Nope. So didn’t give a fig.

  “Be as untethered as you wish. I will be too.”

  “Oh, no. You are not picking up women while I have no choice but to watch.” I wasn’t yelling. I was almost positive.

  Until the small child two aisles ahead of us started to scream and his mother turned to glare at me.

  “Mind keeping your voice down?”

  “Mind not behaving as if you’re my sugar daddy?”

  “First, you’re shouting because you’re concerned I’ll pick up women and force you to watch. Now you’re calling me your sugar daddy. Kindly pick your argument.”

  “Either. Both. You weren’t even supposed to be here, for fuck’s sake.” I held up a hand in the direction of the aghast mother. “Sorry. Sorry. I’ll rein it in.”

  Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could. My emotions were swinging back and forth harder than the plane had started to. Which was just fabulous.

  As if he knew I was on the verge of panic again, he simply drew me in and stroked my hair again. Long, even, gentle strokes that had me closing my eyes despite myself.

  “You’re my friend, remember? As I’m yours. That’s the spirit in which I upgraded your suite.”

  I grunted and clung.

  “Any other proposed changes, I’ll ask first.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that. As for the other…” He didn’t respond long enough that I eased back and tilted my head. “Picking up babes?” I prompted, unsure why it mattered so much.

  He was single and unencumbered. His love life wasn’t my concern in any case. Especially since I’d intended to perhaps make a love connection myself if the fates were kind.

  But Oliver was far too good at the dating game. I’d probably develop comparison-envy and freeze up. That simply wouldn’t do on my first freewheeling vacay.

  I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing. That sounded plausible.

  Thank God.

  Otherwise, I would have to admit that Oliver’s endless hookups bothered me. And that was crazy talk.

  His lips quirked. “I can guarantee I’ll have my hands full with one babe all weekend.” He didn’t give me a chance to reply before his finger pressed into my lips again. “You’re far more than a babe, so don’t quibble.”

  I couldn’t quibble. Not when his voice had gone husky and rough and his eyes were beckoning mine, forcing me to look into them or perish.

  The arguments flew right out of my head.

  His certain victory in sight, he tugged me back against his chest. I went, because there wasn’t anywhere else I wanted to be just then.

  Even though he was a bossy jerk who was already trying to control things.

  Even though we could fight over the weather.

  Even though he wasn’t even supposed to be there.

  I was so very glad he was.

  4

  Oliver

  Holding Sage Evans ranked up there as one of the biggest mistakes of my life.

  Not because I didn’t like it. The exact opposite.

  I wasn’t a cuddler after sex. Definitely wasn’t a spooner. Unless I was forking, I usually took a hard pass. Just not my thing. I hadn’t been raised with much affection, and I’d never developed any particular affinity for physical closeness that didn’t involve my dick.

  Crass, but true.

  Sage curled into me as if I was her shelter in a brutal storm. Fanciful, but still fact. She purported not to like me—or had before we’d embarked on this flight—yet she snuggled into me as if she were starved for that kind of comfort.

  I would’ve said I wasn’t. I was touched often enough to suit my needs. Or so I’d believed.

  Not like this. Nothing like this.

  She was so soft. So yielding and trusting. At least in this moment and in this space, if in no other. Her long blond hair was in a messy ponytail, the wild waves trying to escape, and it took everything I possessed not to bury my face in the thick, fragrant strands. Sunshine in a bottle, that was Sage’s scent. Clean clothes drying on a clothesline in the summertime. Warm, inviting.

  Intoxicating.

  And that wasn’t saying a damn thing about how she felt. She was curvy as hell, and let’s just say my cock had no problem with me being cozied up to the parts of her I’d only ogled the other day. Her impossibly full breasts tucked against my chest would probably live in my fondest jacking-off fantasies for the next few months.

  If not years.

  She eventually moved back, once the flight had stabilized and the ride had become smooth as satin. I pretended to be so absorbed in my work on my tablet that I didn’t hear her chatting brightly with her new friend, who probably would’ve offered to marry her if they’d had another few hours on the plane.

  Alas, they did not, though they exchanged numbers when they parted. Rob also gave me his number, since he was now my friend too. There was talk of getting together for drinks once we were back in New York.

  He was a nice enough guy, but I’d just file that idea under the heading not going to happen.

  Sage might not like the idea of watching me hook up, but guess what? The feeling was mutual.

  Though it did bear questioning why she cared about my dating habits. I knew why hers interested me. She was too sweet, inexperienced, and naive. Men were, by and large, pigs. She was Ally’s best friend.

  Hell, my entire role for being here on this trip was to ensure she had a fun, safe time. That was why I’d wanted to growl at Rob every time he so much as smiled at her too warmly. He hadn’t been properly vetted yet, that was all.

  That could be the only explanation.

  We collected Sage’s eye-searing-pink suitcase from the conveyor belt and arranged for a car over to the hotel. Once we were in the backseat, she pulled out her phone and started texting, ignoring me entirely.

  All righty then.

  “Ally says hello.”

  I glanced up from my iPad. “Hello, Ally. Kid still inside?”

  Sage sighed. “Must you sound so dispassionate about your own nephew?”

  “Who’s being dispassionate? I asked a question that proves my concern.”

  “Sure it does.” She went back to texting.

  I’d just returned to reviewing the contract I’d be presenting to Stanley Curtis next week for the purchase of a dairy farm on the outskirts of town when Sage let out a gasp and my head snapped up. Which triggered the pain in my jaw from her head colliding with mine.

  Because she’d forgotten her bathing suit. Sweet Jesus. As if I needed to put a picture of her in swimwear in my brain.

  “What is it?”

  “Ally found the cutest Yankees outfit for the baby. Look!” She thrust her phone at me.

  A tiny slugger outfit was spread out on Ally and Seth’s bed. It was cute. Hardly worthy of a gasp, however.

  “Lovely.”

  Sage yanked back her phone. “See what I mean? Dispassionate.”

  “I’m in the middle of work. Remember, the business you said I didn’t have in Vegas?”

  This particular contract had nothing to do with Vegas, but she didn’t need to know that. Distraction and subterfuge were nine-tenths of the law.

  “You’re intruding on my vacation, you can at least have happy vacay vibes.”

  “Not so much, since according to you, I can’t even have sex.”

  I didn’t know why I’d said that. I didn’t want to have sex. Unless she was up for—

  Nope. I was shutting down that line of thought this instant.

  My happy vacay vibes were evidently residing in my pants, and I wasn’t about to give them carte blanche.

  Sage narrowed her eyes. “You said this trip—a very short, two-day trip, I might add—was for you to combine business and being a friend to me. Unless that was Hamilton spiel and you’re really here to make sure I have no fun while you have every naked kind you can fathom. If so, don’t you think that’s taking our frenemy thing a little too far?”

  I
set down my tablet, more amused than annoyed at being interrupted. Maybe it was the warm Nevada air working wonders on my mood, because I never felt so benevolent toward her when we were back home.

  Then again, she’d never spent half a plane ride almost in my lap either.

  “Is that a word they use in the tabloids? Frenemy? Next, are you going to say stop trying to make fetch happen?”

  Sage gaped at me. “You’ve seen Mean Girls?”

  “I do know my pop culture references.”

  “Yet you didn’t know frenemy?” She went back to texting. “Probably watched it with some chick you were trying to bed.”

  “Actually, no, I saw it with Laurie.”

  “She’s four. Mean Girls is too advanced for her.”

  “And three-fourths.” She gave me serious side eye. “She’s got a case of hero-worship for that Amanda person. The one who dressed as a mouse. Anyway, I didn’t turn it on for her. She got control of the remote and had watched half of it before I realized what she was watching because I was buried in work. I heard that fetch nonsense before I turned it off.”

  “You can’t let children ever control the remote. It’s not safe.”

  “Yes, well, that page of my parenting manual was torn out before I got it. Also, in case you didn’t notice,” I sketched a finger over my face, “not a parent.”

  She made an indignant sound. “Some things you just know.”

  “Perhaps if I’d spent years practicing for my future family with my Wetsy doll and Easy-Bake Oven as you have all your life, then yes, I would.”

  Her face seemed to crumple for a moment, the brightness in her eyes fading before she lowered her head and returned her attention to her screen. Effectively blocking me out.

  Just as I deserved.

  Asshole.

  Being rude to her was like kicking a puppy. Banter was one thing. But it was far too easy for us to cross that line.

  Just as we’d nearly crossed another line earlier, when she’d been nestled against me. Or perhaps the almost-line-crossing had all been on my side, since she’d managed to keep her wits about her just fine.

  “You’re headed to the Golden Apple?” the Uber driver confirmed.

  “Yes,” I answered when Sage remained mute. She still wasn’t happy I’d upgraded her room.

  Stubborn woman.

  “Not rooming together, I hope. Because you two are a Dr. Phil episode waiting to happen.” The driver chuckled at his own joke.

  “I would never room with him. Who knows, I might look at him and get designs on his penis.” Sage pretended to shudder while the driver’s shoulders shook in not-so-silent laughter. “Next thing you know, I’d whip out my Easy-Bake Oven and try to pie him into submission.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t have to pie me. I have a feeling I’d be quite willing.” I gave her my friendliest smile, all the while plotting how to get her back for this latest indignity.

  My penis didn’t want her to have designs on it. So there.

  Liar.

  “Of course, you would. Manwhore to the rescue once again.” I heard manic tweeting from her phone that indicated she was playing some game.

  I chose to ignore her. Asinine conversations like this one could be had in the privacy of our suite, or better yet, not at all.

  “Oooh, manwhore. She just dissed you, man.”

  “Usual thing for her.” I smiled thinly and returned to my contract.

  If she decided to flirt with this latest stranger, I wouldn’t interfere. I’d acceded to Ally’s wishes and come on this trip at the last minute because I truly did care about Sage’s well-being. Most likely, she would’ve been fine on her own. I wanted to make sure of it.

  As for her hooking up with someone? Not my concern. I might have to grit my teeth a few times, remembering how perfectly she’d curved against me on the plane, but pleasures of the flesh were fleeting. And she’d probably never even shut up long enough for us to have sex anyway, were I interested in daring such a thing.

  Jesus, a virgin. I hadn’t even been with a virgin when I was one myself. My first lover had been older than me by a decade, and quite experienced. Something every virgin deserves for their first time.

  You mean like Sage deserves someone with your experience for her first time?

  I wasn’t debating with myself. I was going to finish reviewing this contract and send it off to Shelly, our admin at the real estate office. Then I was going to imbibe heavily in the libations available at the hotel while escorting Sage on her “super fun vacay”, complete with air quotes.

  The driver finally pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Golden Apple and we disembarked. Check-in went quickly, though Sage was oohing and aahing enough that even the other tourists seemed entertained by her. The place was pretty blinged out, I had to agree. Faux gold was everywhere, and the chandeliers were so huge that the prismatic light was blinding.

  We were ushered into a gold elevator and to our connecting suites with enough fanfare that I was glad I’d sprung for the extra expense. Sage’s beaming smile was worth it as she commented on every amenity.

  Alas, her glow disappeared the minute the door of her suite closed behind the porter who’d dropped off our bags. I’d have to cart mine next door to my connecting room, but no matter.

  “Ugh, I need a shower. That flight was so long.” She flung herself on her bed, spreading her arms wide. One shoe dangled off her foot and her clingy leggings were definitely doing their job.

  “We traveled from one coast practically to the other.” I picked up my bags, prepared to head into the other room. I needed to freshen up a bit myself. “Take a shower and maybe a nap. I’ll pick you up for a late dinner at—”

  She popped up on the mattress. “No way. I only get one vacation like this. I’m not sleeping it away. And hello, marble tub big enough for two. Forget a shower.” She tugged off her cardigan, revealing a tiny cami beneath with straps that kept tumbling down her arms.

  Fuck, did she not have on a bra? She had to. With all of that nature’s bounty going on, no way could she stroll around freely. Maybe one of those shelf-bra thingies? Hmm, or—

  “Hey there, earth to Oliver.” She snapped her fingers. “You gonna hang around in here all day so I can’t try out the Jacuzzi, or did you want to join me?” She asked the question with a smirk, fully intending for me to say no.

  She didn’t have a bathing suit after all. And I was a gentleman.

  Except maybe not right now. I was still smarting with annoyance from the car and perhaps I was curious to see just how far she’d go.

  To see how far I would go.

  “You know, I could use some water therapy myself.” I set down my bags and undid the button on my suit coat. My winter jacket from home had been tucked away the moment we stepped off the plane, and even my suit felt stifling in this heat.

  Going from minus-five to eighty-five in one day was inhumane, so why not hop into a sizzling Jacuzzi while I was at it?

  Especially when Sage was now staring at me as if I’d just sprouted horns and fangs.

  “You can’t use the Jacuzzi right now. I’m going to use it.”

  “Didn’t you just offer to share?”

  She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Taking a dip in a Jacuzzi is no more intimate than in a swimming pool. Though you don’t have a suit, so hmm…problematic.” I tapped my chin. “I suppose you could ask the concierge to get you an emergency one from one of the shops. They’ll do that, you know, with the proper encouragement.”

  “I don’t have a ton of money for tips for things I can just as well buy myself later.” She tucked her hands under her arms. “You brought a suit?”

  “I did. I always enjoy a swim or two while I’m staying at a hotel.”

  “I’ve never stayed at one before. This is all so new. I swear, I’m in my mid-twenties and it’s like I’ve never done anything at all.” She heaved out a breath. “You know what? Fine.
Share the Jacuzzi with me. I’ll just improvise for a suit.”

  I was entirely too onboard with that idea.

  “I’ll go get it started,” I said, both to give her privacy and to give my overeager dick a chance to settle down.

  She wasn’t even getting fully naked, for pity’s sake.

  Maybe canceling my date with Ursula last night had been a mistake. Evidently, I’d needed some serious relief.

  I’d never slept with Ursula, despite prevailing opinion. We’d been dating for a month or two, not exclusively on her end, but on mine. It was an exceptionally busy time at work as people prepared to put their homes and commercial properties on the market at the first hint of spring, so I’d been content to attend the opera and the theater with her and leave it at that. We’d never crossed to the physical level, but not for her lack of interest. I’d been the one to put on the brakes, time and time again. I didn’t even know why.

  Now, as I readied the Jacuzzi for Sage and swiftly shed my suddenly way too tight, restrictive suit, it made sense.

  Much as I hated to admit it, the idea of being intimate with Ursula had never given me one tenth of the excitement as hot tubbing with Sage.

  Ursula was safe. Predictable. She didn’t want much from me, and I definitely wasn’t looking for more from her beyond companionship.

  Sage, however, was forbidden fruit. My sister-in-law’s best friend. Everything I should never want, and smart-mouthed and sexy to boot. I had been entrusted with keeping her safe, but anything beyond that would be risking my relationship with Ally. Sage was like a sister to her, and Ally wouldn’t believe I could want anything other than sex.

  Hell, even if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d believe myself.

  I slipped into the water and let out a sigh as the heat seeped into my aching muscles. Damn, this felt good. Sage would love it too. Instant stress-reliever.

  Minus us being in there together, which would probably ramp up the tension for an entirely different reason.

  Getting this close to her with only hot, bubbling water between us was dangerous. A fact that was driven home when Sage hesitantly stepped into the bathroom wearing a pair of short, tight, ass-hugging sleep shorts and her silky cami.