Rockin' Her World Page 2

  “Yes, that’s it. Fuck me, harder, baby. I need it to hurt,” Bax groaned. He squeezed the muscles of his back passage around the invasion. “So fucking close.”

  Cliff let his head fall back and became lost in the rhythm. Their harsh breathing and the sounds of slick bodies coming together over and over again filled the suite.

  “Just think of Reggie watching us. Taking part. She’d suck your cock while I fucked you from behind,” Cliff rasped out.

  “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum.” Bax let out a pained groan.

  A hot splash of semen coated Cliff’s stomach. Droplets of cum dribbled down his chest.

  Cliff continued his thrusts. His orgasm grew closer and closer until a wave hit him hard and dragged him out to see. His cock jerked once, twice, spurting his seed into the condom.

  His legs shook from under him. “Fuck that was good. The Reggie mention put me over the top,” he rasped out.

  Bax wrapped both arms around Cliff and held him close, stroked his back. “Shh, it’s OK. Just like me. I want that, so fucking bad, for her to be with us,” he whispered.

  “I know,” Cliff whispered. “We have to get our girl and fast.”

  “But first, another shower,” Bax laughed.

  “Yeah, but no sex. Not like last time. I’m not acting out a fucking medical alert commercial. Damn near killed our neighbor.” Cliff guffawed.

  * * *

  Six hours later, they sat in a private jet. Bax snored lightly next to him. Cliff perused his emails. He had an e-mail from Reggie. There could be no denying the edge of sadness to her words. She had tried to hide it during their phone call, but he’d sensed it. He’d known her too long to be fooled. His stomach clenched and stress sung through his body. They had to get to Reggie and fast. This trip needed to speed up.

  He nudged Bax awake. “Read this,” he whispered and held out his smart phone.

  “I was sleeping, damn it! Beauty rest and all that.”

  “Stop complaining for two seconds and read this e-mail from Reggie.”

  Bax scanned the screen. “Shit. What the fuck did that woman say to her? Jesus. Reggie’s only been there, what?” He checked his watch. “An hour or two. She sounds so sad.” Bax handed back the phone. “I really don’t get it. Does Bettina get off on making her kids miserable?”

  “Not sure, but you know Reggie’s mom can be a crafty, controlling witch. She almost went apoplectic when she found out we were all going to NCSU. Tried some maneuvering to get Reggie to go to Duke. I will never forget how pissed she was that her daughter wouldn’t be a legacy like her. Or that she insisted on hanging out with riff raff like us.” Cliff threw back his head and laughed. “Now look at us, worth a couple of mill easy and constantly topping the most eligible bachelor lists.”

  Bax chuckled. “Bettina hated my tattoos, my earrings, my eyeliner, and my insistence on challenging her ideas.” Bax shook his head. “I don’t know what her problem is. I just know that she hates us.”

  “That’s because we’re not the ideal friends for her daughter. In her eyes, anyway. We wield no political influence. We have no connections to old money. We can’t get her a meeting with the mayor or the governor. We don’t go to the right church, even if we did go to church, or associate with the right businessmen.” Cliff shrugged. “We’re white trash from the wrong side of the tracks as far as she’s concerned—both of us. She thinks we convinced Reggie to become a RN. Not our fault that our angel has a good heart and wants to help people.”

  “Our girl is amazing,” Bax said, a kind of quiet pride in his voice. “I sometimes forget how fucking smart and beautiful she is and how much she’s accomplished on her own. Well, not forget, more like try to ignore, because if I think about it too much, there’s a risk of things getting very dirty, very quickly.”

  A gentle heat began in the pit of Cliff’s stomach and traveled lower to his cock. “Hmmm, I think I’m coming down with a fever. Think our sweet RN would be willing to treat me? Maybe wear one of those sexy, slutty Halloween nurse costumes? She’s got the figure for it. And those thick thighs and breasts.”

  Bax shifted in his seat. He reached up and hit the call button. “Stop it or I’m gonna need to dump some ice water on my crotch.”

  An attendant came over at once. “May I help you?”

  “Yes, ice water please.” Bax gave her a winning smile.

  She returned the gesture. “Of course.”

  Cliff nudged him. “Stop that! That flight attendant’s not gonna be a small time snack to sate your appetite for Reggie while we wait for her to figure things out. And why are you ordering ice water? Do you really want me to dump that in your lap?”

  Bax rolled his eyes. “Party pooper, and no, I wasn’t trying to flirt. I was trying to show my appreciation since I’ve been asleep most of this flight and I’m very thirsty. What time is it?”

  Cliff checked his watch. “Almost time to land. We’re about half an hour out from the airport. I called ahead and asked for a private car to be waiting to take us to our house. I think we should surprise Reggie tomorrow. You know, show up at her mom’s place with coffee and take her out to breakfast.”

  Bax sat up straighter. “Wait, whoa. I thought she was staying at HHS Inn. How the fuck did her mom convince her to stay under the same roof as her brothers, sisters, and stepfather?”

  Cliff shrugged. “Manipulation and guilt, as usual. If I had her power, I could take over the world and then some.”

  The attendant returned and set a small plastic cup filled with ice water on his tray. “Here you go. You should drink it fast. We’re almost there.”

  “Thank you so much.” Bax gave her another grin and made a show of gulping down his drink.

  “Don’t choke!” Cliff managed between chuckles.

  Bax studied the woman while she walked away. “Hmmm, what about Reggie in a flight attendant outfit? Think she’d wear one of those? I’m always willing to take a private jet and introduce her to the mile high club.”

  “Or maybe the pilot’s got an ache only she can soothe,” Cliff rolled his eyes. “Damn, how porny can you get? You’re supposed to be the cultured of the two of us. I’m just a dumb hick football player with a bum knee.”

  Bax eyed him critically. Cliff knew Bax hated whenever he talked down about himself. “You don’t have your accent anymore. I’m the hick. I still say shit like ‘y’all’ or use my grandmother’s old sayings. Oh, I know.” Bax snapped his fingers. “Cheerleader. Super-short skirt, pom-poms, tight, tiny sweater. Oh yeah, I can see it. Do you know how many nights I rubbed one out thinking about her in one of those outfits?” Bax shifted in his seat again.

  “Careful, or we’ll have to pull a quickie in the bathroom if you keep this up.” Cliff waggled his eyebrows.

  “Mmmm, been awhile since we were members.” Bax took another sip of his drink, then leaned over and rubbed an ice cube over the side of Cliff’s neck.

  Cliff shivered from the cold and a need to get Bax alone and underneath him. “Save that thought for later and buckle up,” Cliff rasped out.

  Bax winked, downed the rest of his water, and put his tray up. He handed the attendant his empty cup. “Thank you again.”

  She grinned. “It was a pleasure having you on your flight, Mr. Sidney. I just love your show. Will you be doing a holiday special?”

  Bax beamed up at her. “A Valentine’s Day episode. But don’t tell anyone.”

  She beamed right back. “That sounds wonderful. Have a good holiday, and too you too, Mr. Copper.”

  She walked away with a bounce in her step.

  “Aww, she didn’t ask for a selfie or an autograph,” Bax pouted.

  “Diva. Just prepare to land. Soon you’ll be drowning in selfies and autograph seekers.” Cliff sent up a silent prayer that this time they would manage to leave the airport with Bax fully dressed. Or that the police wouldn’t need to be called.

  It was late at night when the plane finally touched down and a private car with a suit cla
d driver met them on the tarmac.

  “Thanks, Steve. Great of you to meet us at this ungodly hour.” Bax tipped his head up to gaze at the star-strewn sky.

  A cold wind whipped through the trees and slapped Cliff in the face. He shivered. A certain clean taste hung in the air. Christmas lights decorated the trees around the small airport.

  Cliff grinned. “Ah, maybe this year we’ll get a white Christmas.”

  “And pigs will fly. Come on, lover. We need to get a proper night’s sleep before we do battle with that kraken known as Mrs. Samson.” Bax grabbed Cliff’s arm and dragged him into the back of the car.

  “Yeah, you’re right. You know if I didn’t love Reggie, I wouldn’t go through the hassle.” Cliff settled in and bucked his safety belt. They took off into the night. “We could just have our families at the house and kidnap Reggie on her birthday. Interacting with Bettina Samson-Cardoza isn’t my ideal way of getting into the Yuletide spirit.”

  Bax snorted. “Me neither.”

  Through the windshield, he could see the holiday lights twinkling at them from a distance. Tall pine trees dusted with fake snow greeted them at the entrance to their small town of Hidey Hole Springs, North Carolina. Santa, his sleigh, elves, and reindeer sat next to the large sign announcing welcome. As per tradition, a reindeer would be added to the scene the closer it got to Christmas. So far they were at six and counting. A child from the local hospital, stuck in the cancer or recovery ward, usually got to be the one to push the button to turn on Rudolph’s nose the night before Christmas.

  “Ah, good to be home,” Cliff said, letting out a deep sighed. “I wonder if Mom is gonna make her famous no-bake apple cinnamon crumb cake soaked with a generous helping a rum to shut the family up.”

  “I wonder if my gram has started drinking yet. You know how much she hates the holidays. Too much family milling around asking about her health. Too much fuss she could do without.” Bax let out a loud laugh.

  “Geez, no wonder Mrs. Samson hates us. But then again, she hated how Reggie always insisted on inviting us to Christmas dinner. Extra mouths to feed and more work for the cleanup, even if we offered to help.” Bax rested his head against Cliff’s big shoulder. “I hope Reggie’s OK.”

  “She’s tough. She’s had eighteen years putting up with that old battle ax. What’s a week?” Cliff asked, watching the town’s main street go by in a blur of blinking lights, decorated shop windows, and a few people walking along after midnight. “She’s got her own apartment, a stable job in a growing medical industry, and no shortage of men who admire her curves.”

  “Yeah, but no marriage to an influential man, no baby, and no big house on a hill to lord over to all of her friends. Not that Reggie is into that kind of thing, anyway.” Bax sighed. “But her mother thinks anything less than that is a failure. She doesn’t see what kind of person her daughter really is.”

  Cliff exhaled. “That’s one of the reasons why we love Reggie. She’s such a damn good person, keeps us grounded, keeps our heads from getting too fat from fame. She’s perfect. She just doesn’t believe us when we tell her.”

  “And what will it take for her to believe us?” Bax wondered aloud.

  “I don’t know, but I’m tired of waiting. If we have to kidnap her to and bring her to our house we will. Right, Steve?” Cliff called out.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Copper,” Steve called from the front. “Just don’t tell my dad though. I doubt he’d bail me out of if I get caught.”

  “Aw, damn, I forgot you’re the sheriff’s kid. We’ll leave you out of our schemes then.” Bax grinned.

  “What time should I be here tomorrow, Mr. Copper?” Steve asked. He turned the car into the circular driveway of their three floor mansion at the far end of town.

  “Eight o’clock sharp. We’ve got a best friend to bring to breakfast and we may need a fast getaway,” Bax said with a laugh.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Reggie willed herself to stay awake. Her black coffee had grown cold fifteen minutes ago, despite the heat swirling around the kitchen. For the last hour, she’d watched her mother and Gertrude form a sort of assembly line of two. Her mother would pull baked goods out of one of the ovens, and Gertrude would place them in the decorative tins and her mother would put in a new batch of baked goods into the ovens.

  “I swear, Regina, you are just not trying. I asked Doctor Travis to dinner and you didn’t even engage him in conversation. I had to do all the talking for you.”

  “Mother, I never asked you to set me up.”

  Her mother pulled out two trays of sticky buns and placed them on the island where she extracted them from their pans, put them on a plate, and slid it over to the edge of the countertop to Gertrude—chef, housekeeper, maid and mother’s confidante. Gertrude picked them up and placed them on top of a green circular container decorated with snowmen smoking pipes, and put them with the other gifts that would be packed up, gift wrapped, and adorned with several ribbons and a personalized card for delivery later. All dietary requirements were considered, a short, non-personal note about the holidays added, and if it was for the church, a nice fat check that was neither too much or too little. Just right in Bettina’s eyes.

  Reggie thought it was all so sickeningly holiday perfect it bordered on crazy. Every year she witnessed her mother’s drive to perfection and image and she’d grown bored as hell with the pageantry and superficiality.

  “Sometimes I think you want to be a spinster.” Bettina withdrew another pan and repeated her earlier actions. “Your father wouldn’t want you like this. If you had just become a lawyer or…”

  Or studied political science, Reggie thought, mimicking her mother’s voice in her head. You would be married and with two children by now.

  Out loud, Reggie responded, “I don’t know what to tell you. I love being an RN. It’s very satisfying work.” Even if she didn’t get enough sleep. She turned her attention to her coffee and grimaced. She needed an even bigger cup.

  “You’ve already sprouted at least five white hairs at your hairline since last I saw you,” her mother chided. “And we won’t discuss those bags under your eyes or the wrinkles. You’re thirty-five, you shouldn’t look like you’re fifty.”

  Reggie blinked. Fifty? What the fuck?

  She glanced over at Gertrude, who just shrugged at her.

  Her mother frowned. “Gertrude, why haven’t you started packing up the first batch of brownies? They should be cool by now.” She sucked her teeth in disapproval. “I have to do everything myself.” She moved over to the counter at the far end of the kitchen and began packing up the tins. “I swear, everything gets slower every year. Maybe it’s time I hired a younger cook.”

  Gertrude moved to the side and let her have her way.

  Reggie didn’t miss Gertie rolling her eyes. Every year her mother made the same threat but never once moved to take action. It was just a way for her mother to remind the help of their place, despite Gertie having been with the household and helping her mother since she’d given birth to Reggie. Not to mention how Gertie had taken care of all the children in the house.

  “I hope you didn’t wake me up at the ass crack of dawn to listen to another lecture,” Reggie grumbled, tired of the criticism.

  “Language, Regina! I woke you up so you could be dressed and ready for me to take you shopping. I invited Representative Reynolds to dinner tonight, and I want you to wear something suitable. You must make an impression if you want to catch his interest. Miss Dina said that he was flirting with her daughter. That old bat wouldn’t know flirting if it bit her in the behind,” her mother hissed.

  Reggie rolled her eyes. Yet another match making attempt. Joy! Not. Her love life might be barren as a desert, but she didn’t need her mother trying to find her a “suitable” husband. Love was supposed to be special, sacred, not a calculated evaluation of someone’s bank accounts and career prestige.

  “Also, don’t mention that your birthday is after Christmas,” her mother
continued. “We’re all tired of you whining about how we don’t pay attention to that day. We don’t squander money that could be put to better use, you know that.” Her mother packed several tins and pushed them over to Gertrude. “Here, put these in the baskets. Regina and I will take them around while we’re out.”

  “Yes, Miss Bettina.” Gertrude picked up the stack and left the room without a single complaint.

  Reggie exhaled, got to her feet, and went to the sink. She poured out her cold coffee and made herself another cup.

  “Wasteful, as always.” Bettina let out a weary sigh. “You wasted eight years of your father’s money chasing after becoming an RN. You owe us.”

  Reggie gritted her teeth. “Father has been dead for five years. And he never said anything about me being ungrateful or wasting his money. He was proud of me. He never said I owed him or you or anyone.”

  “So you say,” Bettina replied dismissively. “You weren’t here when he got sick, when we asked you to come, when you could finally put your learning to good use. For your own blood.”

  “I told you he was in good hands. The best that money could buy,” Regina bit out.

  “But he wanted you,” Bettina pointed out.

  “No. He didn’t. He said so in our many nightly conversations.” Reggie threw that reminder out like a grenade and waited for the explosion. “He didn’t want me to drop out of school to take care of him. I wanted to be here for him every day, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He wanted me to become a nurse.” In fact, it had been his dying wish. She had never told her mother, not that Bettina would believe her if Reggie had told her that. Helping other people without benefit didn’t appeal to Bettina Samson-Cardoza.

  “Phone calls are not visits and they don’t count as coming when called, Regina.” Her mother’s voice went up a few octaves.

  Reggie shut her eyes. “Can we not fight? We do this every year. You won’t let it go and refuse to believe me, like always. Besides you remarried a year after his death…” She let the accusation hang in the air.