Innocent Ride Read online

  “Careful where you’re treadin’, sweetheart. I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Don’t insult me, Lux.”

  I swallow hard as my insides quiver at being in his arms. “Rex, I know you’re here because I overreacted to something dumb that happened with a guy from work. Delilah told you and set you on my case. I didn’t mean to imply you are a liar or even a bad person. I just meant that I know why you’re here, you know why you’re here, so let’s cut the shit. I’m okay. You can go home now. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  He laughs as he tightens his hold on me, forcing my hands to come up on his chest for security. He is firm under my delicate touch, all man, all masculine, and all consuming. I breathe him in, taking in the smell of his leather, his soap, and his own unique scent.

  “I’ve never babysat a day in my life, and I don’t intend to start now.” As he strokes my jawline with his thumb, involuntarily, I find myself leaning into his touch. “Sweetheart, you don’t strike me as someone to overreact. However, if telling yourself that makes you feel better, so be it. I came here tonight to be a friend. The other day at Tripp’s, when it came to the situation with Axel—when it came to me having a son I didn’t know about—you kept it real with me. Baby, not a lot of people do that in my world, so I respect it. I respect you. I’m here to be friends.” He steps back, once again raising his hands in surrender.

  “Innocent enough for you?” he questions with a smirk that makes my girlie parts come alive.

  What can I say to that?

  Deciding not to argue with him, because he really is going through a lot with his newfound parental role, I smile at him before turning to go down the hall.

  “There is nothing innocent about you, Drexel Crews,” I say without looking back as I make my way to my room to put some clothes on. I have a feeling, with Rex in my space, I will need as many barriers between us as I can get. The man is pure charisma, and my body betrays me at every turn.

  ~Rex~

  I will not fuck her. I will not fuck her. I will not fuck her. I continue to repeat that in my head as she swings those luscious hips down the hall to her room.

  I will not fuck her tonight. I will not fuck her tonight. I will not fuck her tonight. Knowing she is naked as the day she was born under that robe only makes my cock want her more. To keep both my heads happy, not fucking her tonight is the compromise. My cock wants her, but my brain knows it is not happening tonight, although … the future is yet to be determined.

  Truth be told, I will fuck Lux. One day, it will happen. I am not a liar, and I am not about to start lying to myself tonight. Not over a broad, anyway. So, for tonight, I will have the self-control not to have sex. One day, however, I will have her come alive under me. All that tight, bound up, professionalism she carries will break under my touch, and I will have her trembling and begging for more. Thoughts of messing up her put-together façade have my dick twitching behind the denim of my pants. Not tonight, though… One day, I allow myself to hope, because there is more to this woman than her proper dress, and there is more to us than she allows herself to see.

  I know she is surprised to have me here. I also know I totally messed up her routine—her boring, same thing, same time, every single day routine. Yes, I showed up unannounced, uninvited, and unapologetic, but I don’t know what really brought me here other than instinct.

  Caroline is real with me at all times, even when I don’t want to hear what she has to say. When I wanted everyone to say Tessie was wrong, there was Lux telling me she would have done the same damn thing, making me open my eyes to see things differently. She forces me outside of my box, out of my comfort zone. Now, I am going to push her out of hers.

  Take a ride on the wild side, Lux. I promise to make it good. Those are my thoughts as she steps out of her bedroom in leggings and an oversized top that hangs off one shoulder. The top is loose until her thighs where it hugs down just above her knees. Her wet hair is braided to one side, hanging over her chest. The ensemble is one I see in the catalogs my mom sometimes shops from.

  “Damn, Lux, don’t you own sweats and shit? You know, around the house clothes. That’s what Doll calls them.”

  She laughs at me. “Rex, this is my comfortable loungewear.”

  Loungewear, pffft! Who the hell says that? We come from two completely different worlds, and this is yet another reminder.

  I hand her a plate with a piece of cheesecake and follow her to her living room. Nothing in her place is overstated like I thought it would be. She has this very modern sleek look going on with metals and glass everywhere. Her couch is white leather, and as we sit down on it, I feel it is soft and definitely made for relaxing. The coffee table has a silver frame with a glass top in the shape of an artist’s palette tray, minus the thumb hole. Her television sits on a glass top stand with white cabinets under it. The only pop of color outside of the silver and white is two yellow throw pillows on her couch, a yellow blanket on her white leather chair, and a gray and yellow rug on the floor.

  After we eat the dessert silently—well, minus the two moans of deliciousness that escape her—she takes the plates back to the kitchen as I settle more into her sofa.

  “Okay, we had dessert. You can leave now,” she dismisses me.

  I only smile and pat the spot beside me.

  “Lux, that’s not the way to treat a friend. We’re gonna hang out and shit.”

  “Cut the crap, Rex. You don’t hang out with women. I don’t know what your sudden interest in becoming my friend is, but I’m good, buddy. I have enough friends.”

  “You’re right. I don’t hang out with women. I fuck them. But you’re different, Lux. Tonight, I wanna hang out with you, get to know you, and yes, be your friend. Say what you want, but you’re intrigued by me. The words may come out of your mouth, dismissing me, but your body language betrays you.” She gasps in shock. “The way you’re twisting the waist area of your shirt, the way you don’t look me in the eye to tell me to leave—all that gives away the truth. It’s okay to want me, and it’s more than okay to hang out with me. I don’t bite, Lux … well, not too much and definitely not too hard,” I add with a wink.

  She blushes yet moves over to sit with me on the couch. “You drive me crazy, Rex. Are you always so pushy?”

  I think about what she says. “I guess I am, yeah. What is it about you, Lux? You make me actually take a look at myself and see where I have faults.”

  She laughs at me. “Whatever, Rex. So, you wanna hang out? Umm, you wanna watch a movie?” Every word is laced with her insecurity.

  “Sure,” I reply, really having no intention of watching anything other than her.

  Once she puts in a movie and settles back on the other side of the couch, I reach out and grab her feet, pulling them to my lap. Slowly, I begin to work my calloused hands over the soft skin of her small feet, working my thumbs into the ball of her foot to loosen the tight muscles and relax the nerve endings.

  She sighs, trying to fight her body’s need to relax into the massage.

  “Feet have over seven thousand nerve endings, and those heels you wear daily aren’t good for the balls of your feet, sweetheart.” I work harder to loosen the overworked part of her body.

  She looks at me with surprise clearly written in her features.

  “More than a biker, baby.”

  She licks her lips and attempts to pull her foot away. I don’t release it, though. Rather, I pull it up to my mouth. She tenses under me as she thinks I am going to suck her toe or some shit, only I move my mouth down to place a soft kiss on her ankle and run my hands up her calf muscle, massaging as I go.

  The more I touch her, the more my dick hardens, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Needing to slow this down before I can’t keep the beast in my pants caged, I turn my attention to her other foot and give her the chance to focus back on the movie.

  The television noise soothes the atmosphere around us. It is strange for me to simply sit and enjoy a female’s
company. Yet, with her, I want nothing more than to chill out.

  After a while, she is completely relaxed with me and my invasion of her space. Stranger, though, I find myself completely comfortable in this space with her.

  “Rex, how are you doing with the whole having a son thing? Are you going to be there for him? For them?”

  The look on my face is one of shock that she would bring up my situation with genuine concern. However, it spooks her.

  “Never mind, forget I asked. It’s not my business.”

  “No apologies. I’m glad someone cares about what I’m doing. Truth is, I gotta make shit right for Tessie, Shooter, and Axel. Yeah, I wanna be there for them. I beat the hell outta Shooter, and I gotta face that. I turned my back on her more than once, and I gotta face that, too. Then, hopefully, we can all work towards something.”

  She takes in what I say sincerely then bites her lip nervously. “Are you gonna try to be with Tessie? You should know, Rex, having a child with someone doesn’t mean you have to be with them.”

  “Nah, I know that. Besides, the time for me and Tessie to be together is long since gone. I can’t give her what Shooter can, and I’m man enough to know that and walk away so she can have it without intrusion.”

  She studies me for what feels like the longest time. “Hmm … I might have been wrong about you, Rex.”

  “There’s more to me, sweetheart, than a pretty boy smile, a bad boy body, a Harley, and a pierced dick,” I reply with a wink, knowing I just made her head spin with my cockiness. I love making her frazzled and frustrated.

  She rights herself and squares her features. “Rex, I misjudged you. I’m strong enough to own my mistakes. I’m sorry for that.”

  “Friends?” I ask, trying to look innocent.

  “Just friends?” she counters.

  “Sure,” I answer while I add, for now, in my mind. There is so much more to me, so much more to her, and my gut says there is so much more to share between the two of us in the future.

  Chapter Four

  Past Transgressions

  ~Caroline~

  Beep. Beep. Beep. When my alarm wakes me for a new day, I stretch, slapping the machine quiet. Feeling around me, I am astounded.

  Dry Sheets. Full night of sleep. No stress pains.

  I slept through the night for the first time in I don’t know how many months. Thinking about my evening the night before, I smile as butterflies dance in my stomach. Did I really spend last night on my couch simply talking with Rex? We actually spent a completely innocent evening together. I never thought that would be possible with him. It was strange yet, somehow, brought me this comfort I haven’t had in a long time¸ possibly ever. There is so much more to Rex than I’ve thought.

  Readying for my day, I smile as I slip my feet into my overly priced, overly high heels, reminiscing Rex taking his time to gently massage away the pains of my day and my worries at the same time. I have never had someone take such care with me. If people knew my history, they would laugh.

  I am the daughter to the ex-governor’s housekeeper. More than that, I am the daughter to the ex-governor’s whore. Yes, my mom was titled the housekeeper, but she did more than dusting and mopping.

  The life of privilege, some may perceive I grew up in, is all false. When people ask where I grew up, I spout off the address two streets over to the upscale subdivision Governor John Comer retired in. As a public figure, people would know I wasn’t his daughter, so if I gave out my actual address, everyone would know my mom was hired help. Luckily for me, his spoiled princess was my size.

  Eliza also took ‘pity’ on poor, little me and gave me all her clothes, some of which she never took the tags off. It helped me pull off my charade. She didn’t know my mom was a live-in housekeeper, not based on her skills at cleaning, but rather the way she ‘sucked his dick like no other.’ She cleaned all right, cleaned his cock with her tongue. Honestly, Eliza didn’t care what her dad did as long as her credit card bill got paid monthly and her Mercedes was the newest model.

  When I was younger, the hand-me-downs seemed nice, as my mother was so happy to see Eliza want to share with me. As I got older, I realized I was a joke to her and all her private school friends. When I got to high school, I knew I would have to bust my ass to get into college. I also knew, when I got away, I would one day have everything Eliza had and then some, because I would do it on my own, not on daddy’s dollars.

  Fake it until you make it…to the top.

  That is my life. No one knows. Not Delilah, not Savannah, not even my mom know that I dress the way I dress to remind me life doesn’t afford me the opportunity to relax. If I relax, if I let up, I will be the poor daughter of a whore who is only good for sucking dick and scrubbing dishes. Not for me, nope. I refuse to be defined by my upbringing. I will become everything my mother wasn’t. I will become everything Eliza had the potential to be yet isn’t. And I will do it wearing her overpriced shoes just to put the icing on the cake.

  Thinking back on my childhood, on my history, it all gives me more determination to succeed. Grabbing my purse, I head out of my apartment with my suit pressed, my hair tied back in a tight bun without a strand out of place, and my body feeling energized by the full night of sleep. I actually feel ready to face the day for the first time in a very long while.

  The clicking of my heels on the concrete only gives me more pep in my step to be successful. I once read that actors get dressed in costume first because, in order to be the part, you must first look the part. Well, I damn sure look the part of a successful, independent business woman, and I won’t be stopped.

  The motivation, the determination, and the dream all crash land the minute my beautiful shoes stop clicking at my desk.

  “Good morning, Miss Milton,” he greets from his office doorway, his voice worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

  My desk sits right outside his door. As his junior accountant, I report everything to him and take my direct orders from him.

  He makes his way over to my chair, pulling it out for me.

  “We have a busy day organizing payroll for a new client. Sit and let’s get started.” He smiles an evil grin as if he knows he rattles me.

  Rolling my shoulders back, I stand taller, firmer. I will not be broken. I will not be shaken. I will not shatter. I am not defined by my past. Chad is just another man in a suit who believes all women are beneath him, and my place in this world is not underneath any man.

  I sit in my chair, trying to ignore him as he pushes my chair under my desk and leans over me. I swear he breathes in deeply at my neck as if he is inhaling my perfume. My body reacts as his exhale comes down my neck. I tense without wanting to.

  He hums to himself as he presses closer to the back of my chair, leaning over me to click on the monitor of my computer.

  “I’ll walk you through the first two. Then you can take it from there.”

  “Chad, I have done payroll before. Thank you for the instruction, but if you give me the login, I am sure I can sort through it. I know you have a full schedule, no need to oversee this one,” I try to give him a valid escape in a professional manner.

  “I came in early to clear up my schedule so I can help you with this one, but thank you for concerning yourself with my task load. It’s nice to know you care.”

  Cold runs through me, turning my veins to ice as he softly says the last sentence. Care? Can he really think I care? What demented world does he live in? I kneed him in the balls. I don’t care about him, not in the least bit.

  I steel myself, ready to push through the day. As the computer screen blinks to life, I place my hand over the mouse. His hand comes around from behind me, squeezing my arm before it comes to rest over mine on the small device controlling the computer. Lacing his fingers between mine, he controls the mouse and my hand as panic sets in. Then I feel his other hand come around, essentially caging me into my desk as he leans against my chair, sliding me farther into the desk.

  I clos
e my eyes, breathing in and trying to keep the anxiousness at bay.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispers, breathing heavily into my ear.

  Baby. I have always hated that endearment. Bile builds in the pit of my stomach as I take in my predicament.

  Nowhere to go.

  Trapped by my own choices, yet again, I put my free hand on the edge of the desk and start to push back. However, Chad’s body keeps me firmly in place.

  “Trying to run again?” he whispers. “Thrill of the chase, Caroline. You should know, it only turns me on more, baby.”

  After I push back harder, only to be still rendered immobile, he runs his nose up and down my exposed neck.

  “You can’t escape me. I do love a challenge, Caroline.”

  The screen changes, drawing my attention as I fight to not vomit all over my desk. The name on the file staring at me makes me stop breathing.

  Governor John Comer Staffing

  Chad laughs over my shoulder as he pushes off the back of my chair, forcing my stomach into the desk painfully. His hand off mine, I am free.

  “I know everything about you, baby. Cookie cutter clean is not you. Think on that and about your future here. I’ll leave you to your day. Next time I invite you to dinner, you should seriously consider my invitation,” he tosses out casually over his shoulder before entering his office.

  I click the folder to see an entire file on my mother’s relationship with the ex-governor, including his time in the office when she was then staffed as Eliza’s ‘nanny.’ If this wasn’t damaging enough, I click the tab labeled college years, and a picture of me with a man older than my grandfather flashes in front of me. Shit.

  Scrolling down, the words at the bottom of the picture bring my world crashing down around me.

  Once a whore, always a whore. Like mother, like daughter. I’ll be seeing you soon.

  I quickly delete the offending file before taking off for the bathroom. No one knew about that time in my life. Alvin Higgins made sure of it.