Not That Kind of Girl

  Her fears had been unfounded. Eli wasn’t reserved when it came to sex. He was all alpha male. He was authority. He was in control. Yet at the same time, Eli was giving himself to her with unrestrained delight.

  It made her head spin.

  “Let go, Roxie, baby.” His hand slipped from her throat as he whispered in her ear. “Let yourself go with me. Don’t hold anything back. I’m not holding anything back from you, and I never will. Let go. I’ve got you. I promise.”

  She could feel it. This man loved her. This man was strong enough to break down all her defenses and brave enough to love everything she was. She wasn’t making a mistake this time. Eli Gallagher was the one for her. He was the one man who could handle her, the good and the bad. He was the one who could take her places she’d never even dreamed of.

  Roxanne wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and held him with all the strength she had in her, arching up against his body as he drove down into hers. And just when she’d decided this was the most searingly hot sexual experience she’d ever had in her life, Eli rooted his mouth into the side of her neck and pressed his teeth into her flesh. He bit down. He released.

  “You’re mine,” he told her. “Do you feel it? How perfectly we fit together? I found you. I finally found you.”

  She went rigid from head to toe as she came. She leaned her head back and let the hot pleasure burn her all the way to her fingers and toes.

  “That’s it. Come all over me. Come on me while I come in you. Oh, sweet Roxie—you’re all mine.”

  * * *

  It had taken some persuasion, but Raymond was glad he’d agreed to meet his boys at the club for a CAO Gold and a bit of Glenfiddich. It had done him good to get out and have a few laughs, even if he hated appearing in public in his neck brace.

  Raymond walked the half block from the club to the parking garage, his keys dangling in his hand. The last few days had been hard on him. He’d had to do some serious damage control at the courthouse, quelling nasty rumors that he’d ruptured his disc chasing after young pussy. He’d set everyone straight, however, explaining with a bit of self-deprecating humor how he’d tripped over a putter propped against his desk.

  But he did worry about Ricky. Or Randy. Had she gone around blabbing her mouth? Was she serious about not wanting to go to law school? If that were the case, then Raymond had lost his leverage. But what baffled him the most was why this particular girl? He’d been messing with his assistants for at least twenty years now. Only the females, of course—he wasn’t one of those twisted motherfuckers who got their jollies in the airport men’s room! And in all those years, not a single one of those girls had made a fuss. They’d simply opened their legs or lips and understood they were paying the admission fee to their future success.

  And clearly, he’d been a fine mentor. His former assistants held a variety of important positions. Several were assistant prosecutors. Two were now sitting judges. There were even a couple of CEOs and law school professors in the mix. And why? Because at one time, they’d been willing to assume the position for Raymond Sandberg.

  Which led him right back to what bothered him about his latest assistant, Randy. Why did a little smart-mouthed cunt think she could take him on like this? Had Roxie whipped her into some kind of revengeful frenzy? Was Roxie out on the streets trying to recruit members for a man-hating cabal? An all-girl hit squad? He wouldn’t put it past her. Raymond knew that in the end, he’d discover that bitch Bloom was behind all the nonsense with Ricky.

  By God, if it weren’t for his neck brace, he’d be out in Utah right now, hunting Roxie down like a dog.

  After he said good night to his crew, Raymond took the parking garage elevator down two levels. He pressed his key fob and heard the comforting beep-beep! of his Lexus sedan reverberate through the nearly empty structure. Ow! Even that tiny movement of his fingers had resulted in discomfort. The shooting pain in his arm seemed to be getting worse, not better. Damn if he hadn’t started feeling his age this past week. It all began with the dog attack. Then the accident with the putter. He had to reassure himself that fifty-five wasn’t old. He wasn’t really an old man. Maybe once he’d gotten Roxie’s little bitch dog hooked up to the gas pipe he’d get the spring back in his step.

  “Raymond Sandberg?”

  He spun around. Way too fast. He brought a hand to his neck and howled with agony. “Who are—”

  Holy fuck. Raymond had to tilt his head back to get a good look, which hurt even more. The guy standing in front of him had to be at least six foot four. And a third his age. With more muscle in one of his arms than Raymond had in his entire body.

  “You don’t need to know my name,” the kid said. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here on someone else’s behalf.”

  His attacker seemed quite self-assured for a young criminal. Raymond moved his thumb across the car key and prepared to activate the panic button.

  The guy snatched the keys from his hand. He threw them midway down the ramp of the parking garage, where they clattered and slid. The assailant slowly backed Raymond against the concrete wall between parked cars, his eyes serious but his hands to his sides. “I need you to pull out your wallet,” he said.

  Raymond scrambled, digging into the front pocket of his suit coat. “Here.” He shoved it at him. “Take it all. Just don’t hurt me.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll only be needing your driver’s license.”

  Now, that was bizarre. Raymond fumbled trying to pull his license from its plastic case. He handed it over to him.

  “Excellent,” the man said, examining it. “I’ll return this in just a moment.”

  Identity thieves were now prowling city parking structures? Raymond wondered. What was this world coming to? Was there a soul left in this town with a modicum of decency?

  The man returned his attention to Raymond. “Well, shall we get on to the business at hand, Mr. Sandberg? I believe you’re acquainted with my sister.”

  Shit! Fuck! It was Ricky’s brother.

  “You’re making a huge mistake,” Raymond said, knowing he was so scared he was about to soil his custom-tailored suit trousers. The kid would never suspect that, however, because Raymond had used his rich, steady baritone voice, the one that could hide a full-out panic from the most attentive juries. At least that gift hadn’t failed him.

  The kid grinned. “You’re the one who’s made the mistake, you Viagra-popping piece of crap.”

  “I’m sure we can sit down and discuss this—”

  The young man reached into the pocket of his cheap, baggy nylon jacket and Raymond thought for sure he was going for a gun. Instead he produced a document of some kind.

  “Sign your name to this and I won’t break both your legs.”

  Raymond choked on his surprise. “Whaaa—”

  The young man unfolded the document and held it out for him, along with a ballpoint pen. “It’s real simple,” he told Raymond. “You sign and date this and I don’t beat the fuck out of your pathetic needle-dicked self.” The kid suddenly laughed. “Look, I try not to pummel old dudes in neck braces if I can help it, okay? It’s a point of honor with me. So let’s just get this over with.”

  Raymond’s legs became weak with fear. He reached out for the pen with a shaky hand, wondering what in the name of God he was being forced to sign. This was an outrage! A travesty!

  In a matter of seconds, it was all perfectly clear to him.

  Raymond skimmed the one-page affidavit, smiling to himself. It was kind of cute, really—his assistant had done a decent job with it. His only criticism was that her description of Raymond’s alleged sexual harassment was so clinical that it made him sound like a vile pervert. Also, she’d conveniently skipped the part about how she’d loved every fucking second of it. But, all in all, bravo for her.

  Too bad she’d never be a real attorney.

  “Did you read it carefully?” the young man asked.

  “Yep,” Raymond said, smiling b
igger now, signing his name with his usual lavish swoops and swirls and adding the date where indicated.

  “Do you pledge that the information is true and that you understand the importance of this oath?”

  Raymond snickered, looking up at his misguided attacker. “Sure, why not? Can I get my keys and go now?”

  The kid stared at him as though he knew something Raymond didn’t, which was idiotic, since the exact opposite was true. As well written and clever as the affidavit was, it was a worthless scrap of paper in the state of California without a notary public’s seal, which was clearly something that big-titted and small-brained former assistant of his hadn’t bothered to find out.

  The young man cleared his throat and began reading off from the numbered list of adverments, one for each individual act of sexual harassment to which Raymond had just admitted. If doing so somehow made the guy feel better about the behavior of his slutty sister, then, hey, Raymond was willing to donate a few more minutes of his time.

  “ ‘At this aforementioned date, I, the affiant, Raymond Julius Sandberg, Esq., do hereby swear that I shoved my hand into my employee’s underwear and fondled her sex organs without her permission, expressed or implied.’ ” He looked at Raymond curiously.

  “Can we wrap this up?” Raymond asked.

  The young man slipped the pen into his shirt pocket. Again, he studied Raymond, holding the document in his hand. He reached across his body into the pocket of his baggy jacket again, and this time, Raymond knew he was going for a gun. The instant he saw the peek of gleaming steel he fell to his knees and began to beg for his life. He shut his eyes, leaned forward, and crossed his arms over his head, waiting for the sound of the trigger to be cocked.

  Raymond’s last earthly thought was: Fuck everyone! If I had to do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a fucking thing!

  Then came the sound. It was a gentle ka-thud, definitely not the expected click of a gun ready to fire. The sound was vaguely familiar to Raymond, nonetheless.

  He lifted his head just in time to see the kid slip a notary public device back into his pocket. The sound he’d just heard was the embossing of the seal! Raymond’s mouth went dry.

  “I know,” the kid said with fake pity, folding the affidavit and sliding it into his shirt pocket. “This must be a huge shock for you, Mr. Sandberg. Here, let me help you up.” He reached down with his hand extended.

  Raymond reached up. He was so numb and weak that he could barely keep his balance as the kid pulled him to stand. It was then that Raymond noticed the girl walking up behind her brother. She had a blank look on her face and was dangling Raymond’s keys out in front of her as if she were delivering a dead mouse by the tail.

  She dropped the keys into Raymond’s open hand.

  “I see you’ve met my brother. He’s a vice president for commercial loans at Pacific Trust, and, of course, a licensed notary public.”

  Raymond gulped.

  “And this is just the beginning, boss,” she added brightly.

  Raymond’s mouth hung open. “What in the fuck does that mean?”

  “That means that I’ve already found six other women willing to join in a class action lawsuit against you.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  She took a step closer. “But I’ll drop the whole matter if you can answer one simple little question correctly. Are you game?”

  Raymond nodded, the knowledge that his life was over slowly seeping into his brain. He was totally, utterly fucked—unless he could answer her question. This went beyond vile. This was just plain cruel. “I’ll try my best,” he said.

  She smiled. “What’s my name?”

  “It’s Ri—” Raymond stopped. He shook his head, feeling as if he were about to cry. “I don’t actually know your name, darlin’.”

  “It’s Dusty,” the girl’s brother said, opening the car door for him. The young man was kind enough to support Raymond by the elbow and help lower him into his seat. Then he twisted Raymond’s arm until it snapped.

  * * *

  “I sure hope you like desiccated venison stew.”

  Roxie scrunched up her nose. “Sounds delish, but I think I’ll pass.” She sat down on one of the stools at the cooking island to watch Eli putter around the kitchen, but couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. Up until a few hours ago, she’d had zero sexual encounters over the span of nearly thirteen months. But boy oh boy, had she just made up for lost time. Roxie smiled to herself, deciding a little temporary discomfort was a price she was happy to pay.

  She watched Eli use potholders to remove a heavy-looking cast-iron Dutch oven from the big Aga range, then kick the oven door closed with his sock-covered foot.

  “Just out of curiosity, how long was that supposed to cook, Eli?”

  “Four hours.”

  “How long was it in there?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “About nine.”

  She blew out air. “We’re lucky it didn’t catch fire.”

  Eli tossed the potholders to the kitchen counter. He leaned his palms against its edge and doubled over in laughter. For a long moment, he simply let his head hang between his arms and laughed.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  He raised his head, a look of amazement on his face. “Roxie, baby, this whole place could have gone up in flames and I wouldn’t have noticed. Or much cared. I’m serious.”

  She grinned at him. It really was embarrassing what had been going on in that bedroom for the last several hours. They’d completely lost themselves in each other. They seemed to have unleashed one another’s wild sides. And they couldn’t get enough. And it all left Roxie feeling joyful.

  She also felt raw, and not just in her previously dormant body parts. She felt raw in her spirit, like all that lovemaking had laid her bare, made her new. Maybe she’d been bare even before they began to make love. After all, she’d revealed her worst fears to a man and given herself to him anyway, willingly and completely. Or maybe the raw feeling was normal after you’d had head-banging sex with someone you love—who actually loves you back.

  Roxie tried her best to hide the fact that she suddenly had trouble breathing. Her hands began to shake. Had she already decided that they loved each other?

  “You’re a little hellcat,” Eli said, groaning as he stood straight.

  “And you’re a maniac,” Roxie said. “I can’t believe I was worried you’d be boring in bed.”

  “No kidding?”

  “Absolutely.” She propped her elbows on the countertop and rested her chin in her hand. “I thought there was a chance you’d be … you know … restrained, the way you are when you’re dealing with unruly dogs and bitter women.”

  She watched Eli bite the inside of his mouth, which meant he was trying not to burst out laughing. It was interesting, all the little things she knew about him already, along with the important stuff. Like how good it felt to be held in his arms, or how nothing was off-limits when they talked, and how being with Eli made her simply … happy.

  “Restrained, huh? Interesting.” Eli turned his back to Roxie and opened the refrigerator, as if changing the subject. He put his weight on his left leg and tapped his foot, the way he did when he was mulling something over.

  “You know, living out here is a little different than living in San Francisco. You can’t just decide at midnight that you’d like a big plate of chicken pad thai or a warm-from-the-oven French baguette and then run down the street to get it.”

  Roxie chuckled. “What can you run down the street for around here?”

  Eli looked over his shoulder. The light from the fridge glowed on his golden skin and danced in his green eyes. He was so strikingly handsome that she nearly gasped. He was her angel. Her teacher. Her lover. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  “Elk,” he said, unleashing one of his big, charming, effortless grins. “Plus coyote, deer, and sage hen, but you’re going to have to work hard for your supper if any of th
ose items are on your menu.”

  “So there’s no drive-through at the Kentucky Fried Sage Hen?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” he said, laughing. Roxanne loved the way his eyes wrinkled up when he laughed.

  “Is this your way of telling me I have to learn to hunt if I live here?”

  Whoops.

  Roxanne’s eyes widened in surprise at what she’d just said. Apparently, she was already so comfortable with Eli that she would just let any old thing fall out of her mouth. Still, she wasn’t looking forward to hearing how he’d react to something so completely, stupefyingly premature!

  “Oh, jeesh,” she mumbled.

  Eli shut the refrigerator door. He crossed the space between them and stood in front of her, his eyes soft and kind. He cupped her face in his hands. “Hunting is optional around here, but speaking your mind is required.”

  She nodded quickly and tried to lower her eyes.

  “So would you?” Eli leaned toward her. “Would you consider living here with me? At least part of the time?”

  He tapped under her chin to get her to look up. He must have seen her anxiety level begin to rise because he kissed her softly, which made her forget what she’d been anxious about.

  “If it helps put things in perspective, I don’t think the rules are ever going to apply to us, Rox.” His voice was warm and kind. “I have a feeling we’ll always do things our own way, however and whenever it feels right to us. It won’t matter what the world thinks. The only thing that will matter is how it feels to us.”

  Roxie smiled softly. Relief flooded her. If what Eli said was correct, then throwing out all her promises to herself and falling for a man in a matter of days wouldn’t necessarily mean she was certifiable. “I like the idea of that.”