Chapter Two
CHAPTER TWO
Caleb
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, which was par for the course when it came to Stevie Palmer, a woman who tempted me more than any other had in a very long time. Probably because she was so different from the overtly sophisticated women I’d once dated.
Like now, I watched as she danced without inhibition, laughing and enjoying the moment with friends. She was like a breath of fresh air, with a bubbly, upbeat personality—even when I’d seen her exhausted at the end of her waitressing shift at The Back Door.
She was fun and lighthearted. There were no airs or pretenses when it came to Stevie. She didn’t go out of her way to try and impress me—something I hated when it came to the women in my social circle—which was why I found it so easy to just be myself around her. To flirt with her, even…because we’d been able to do so without either of us expecting anything more.
She was certainly the polar opposite of my ex-wife, Alyssa, who looked down on those she felt were inferior and not a part of the elite, privileged world she’d grown up in. And that snobby, judgmental attitude had only gotten worse over the years since I’d divorced her.
I’d been raised in that same world as Alyssa, with familial expectations I hadn’t adhered to. I’d bucked convention after my father died and my mother expected me to take a position in the family’s legal consulting firm working with my uncle. Instead, I’d chosen to make my own way and go into real estate as an investor and a broker. Cassandra Kane had been mortified, pissed even that I wasn’t upholding the family tradition, but now that I was a partner at Manhattan Prestige Realty and owned a multitude of properties and buildings, and was undoubtedly even richer than my uncle, my mother had finally, begrudgingly, accepted my choice of career.
A mother who wasn’t here tonight to celebrate Raven’s birthday because Raven had cut Cassandra out of her life when she’d chosen her psychotic son—my fucking twin brother—over her adopted daughter. It was difficult for me to even maintain a civil relationship with my mother, but I did it for Owen, because he deserved to have both sets of grandparents in his life.
Sitting by one of the firepits by myself and sipping my last bourbon of the night, I considered the woman who consumed too much of my thoughts. Maybe if so much of my life wasn’t in upheaval, I would have asked Stevie out on a date. But I had an ex-wife just waiting for the chance to skew anything to her advantage during our ongoing custody battle for Owen. And then there was my mother, who commiserated and sided with Alyssa and tried to make me feel guilty for divorcing her. But I had zero regrets about ending our marriage, and no matter how much Alyssa wanted a reconciliation—and was using custody of Owen to persuade me to give her another chance—it wasn’t going to happen.
On top of all that emotional turmoil, I was still dealing with the fact that Lance, my shitty deranged twin, was serving a very long sentence in prison for his assault on Raven, violating parole, and racking up federal charges for calling in a bomb threat. Some days it felt like I was just trying to pick up the pieces of my life and keep them glued together.
My sole focus right now was Owen and keeping Alyssa from finding a way to gain full custody. That in itself was a challenge, considering I knew she’d grasp any opportunity to make that happen, just to spite me for divorcing her, even if my reasons for doing so had been legitimate. Dealing with her was exhausting, but all I cared about was making sure my son had some kind of stability in his life and didn’t feel torn between two parents, even if Alyssa didn’t give a damn about any of that.
Stevie’s unfettered laughter drew my attention back to her, the sound calming and distracting me, in a good way. I shoved all those troubling personal thoughts to the back of my mind and watched as she danced with friends and had a good time. Sitting off on my own, I allowed myself to appreciate the bounce of her breasts as she shimmied her shoulders and the provocative way she shook her ass to the beat of the music. Every once in a while she glanced my way and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was deliberately teasing and tempting me.
I was most definitely tempted, because those initial thoughts drifted to much dirtier territory as I imagined Stevie completely naked, straddling my hips as we fucked, those full, firm tits jiggling as she bounced enthusiastically on my cock.
It wasn’t the first time she’d starred in my illicit fantasies, and my neglected dick was completely on board with the idea, thickening in my slacks as another forbidden vision played through my mind, of pounding into her from behind, her silky hair wrapped tight around my fist. My fingers twitched as I envisioned pulling her head back and holding her in place as I drove deep into her pussy, her soft ass cushioning my driving thrusts as she moaned my name…
“Tell me you’re having a good time.”
The sound of Raven’s voice over the music jolted me out of my depraved thoughts like a scratch on a vinyl record. My heart slammed hard in my chest. Jesus Christ. I hadn’t even seen her approach or leave the dance floor, but then again, my gaze, my entire attention, had been riveted on Stevie, and my brain had been in the fucking gutter.
I cleared my throat as Raven plopped down onto the chair next to where I was sitting, the skirt of her champagne-colored dress settling over her legs. I tried to put the pieces of what she’d just said to me together, and failed. I didn’t have a fucking clue what she’d asked me.
“What was that?” I asked in a casual tone. “I was distracted and didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly,” she said with a little smirk on her lips, which made me wonder if she’d seen me ogling Stevie. “I said, tell me you’re having a good time at my party.”
“I’m having a good time at your party,” I parroted.
She rolled her eyes, not amused. “And mean it.
“I do mean it,” I said more genuinely, and finished off the bourbon in my glass.
Skepticism etched her pretty features and flickered in her green eyes. “You’d have a better time if you did something enjoyable for yourself for a change.”
I arched a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, even though I had a fair idea of where this conversation was heading.
“It means you focus on everything else to the exclusion of your own life, like work and Owen. Me, even.”
I set my glass on the table beside me and smiled at her. “Those things are my life.”
Her lips pursed, showing me that determined side to her personality. “And I’m here to tell you, from personal experience, it’s not enough.”
I arched a brow. “Oh, you’re an expert now?”
“Yeah, I am.” She nodded, crossing one leg over the other. “Remy showed me that there is much more to life than protecting your heart and emotions.”
Raven had had every reason to do both for most of her life, and I was genuinely thrilled she’d found someone who cherished her the way she deserved.
I exhaled a deep breath and gave her a reassuring smile. “My heart and emotions are both doing just fine, thank you very much for your concern.” Admittedly, though, both my heart and emotions had been through the wringer the past few years.
Another burst of laughter from Stevie, and my gaze instinctively drifted once again in that direction, watching as she now danced with our sister Cara, both of them bouncing on their feet with their hands waving in the air in time to the music. At some point Stevie had kicked her heels off, and as sexy as she’d looked with them on, I loved that she’d opted for comfort and didn’t give a damn about decorum.
“Why don’t you just ask her out already?”
I returned my attention to Raven, feigning confusion. “Who?” I asked.
Raven rolled her eyes, clearly not fooled. “Stevie, that’s who. You’ve both been skirting around your attraction to one another since I introduced the two of you well over a year ago.”
I shook my head. “Raven, the last thing I’m looking for is a relationship.”
She laughed. “Who said anything about a relationship? You’re both consenting adults, so why not just enjoy each other’s company and have a good time together? That’s what dating is.”
“Because my life is shit right now?” I reminded her.
“My life was shit when Remy barged into it, remember?” she countered.
I winced because it was hard to forget how Lance had terrorized Raven, though I was grateful that Remy had become her savior, even when she’d tried to resist his protection.
The look in her eyes softened. “Look, all I’m saying is, work and everything else aside, you need to do things that make you feel good and make you happy. There is nothing wrong with that. It doesn’t take away anything from Owen for you to enjoy someone else’s company. You haven’t dated anyone since filing for divorce and that was, what, two years ago?”
“Times flies,” I quipped sarcastically.
She narrowed her gaze at me. “Don’t be a jerk, Caleb.”
I sighed and rubbed my palm along my jawline. “I’m not trying to be.”
She reached out and touched my knee. “I just…want you to be happy.”
I took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Once this custody case over Owen is finalized, I’ll be the happiest man around.”
She frowned. “I hate that Alyssa is doing this to you. That joint custody of Owen isn’t enough for her.”
“You can’t be surprised,” I said, both of us well aware that Alyssa didn’t really give a shit about how much time she spent with Owen. The custody suit had never been about that.
“No, I’m not surprised,” she said, sounding sad. “Just disappointed that she’d use Owen as leverage to try and get back together with you, and if that doesn’t work, then hurting you is no doubt her second option.”
“Not gonna happen,” I assured her.
“Good.” Raven nodded succinctly. “You deserve so much better than what she’s put you through.”
“Hey, I’ve been looking for you, wife,” Remy said, interrupting our discussion—thank God—as he strolled up to where we were sitting.
Raven’s entire face lit up with adoration, and she grinned at her husband. “Ahh, the sound of that word, wife , never gets old.”
“It better not,” he said in a low, possessive growl that made me chuckle, and Raven blush. “Samantha and Dex are heading out and want to say their goodbyes, so I’m stealing my wife ,” he said again.
Smiling and enjoying their dynamic, I waved a hand in the air. “She’s all yours.”
“Damn right she is.” Remy extended his hand toward Raven, and she placed her own in his, allowing him to pull her up from the chair.
Raven glanced back at me. “Just think about what I said, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, mostly to appease her.
After Remy and Raven walked away, I stood up, needing a breather after that conversation. I strolled over to the far side of the terrace, away from the party and where the music was more muted and the area provided some quiet and solitude.
The lighting didn’t extend to this far corner of the rooftop, and it wasn’t until I was in the secluded area that I realized someone else was already there, standing at the decorative stone balustrade that secured the perimeter and overlooked Manhattan. Stevie, to be exact, who looked to be texting someone on her phone, the light from the device the only thing illuminating her beautiful features and blonde hair.
“And here I thought I was the only one who needed a break from all the noise,” I said as I approached her.
She jumped at the sound of my voice, obviously not expecting company. But as soon as she saw that it was me, she relaxed and smiled. “Yeah, I wanted to find someplace quiet to check in with my sister.”
“She left already?” I asked, surprised. I hadn’t noticed and assumed she’d been sitting at a table while Stevie was out on the dance floor.
Stevie nodded. “Yes, a while ago.” She put her phone in her small purse, then set it on top of the wide stone wall before meeting my gaze in the shadows, caused by the reflection of the city’s lights. “She’s had a rough couple of weeks and I’m just worried about her.”
I stood next to her at the railing. “Is everything okay?” I ventured to ask.
She exhaled a soft sigh. “I hope so? I mean, she’s fine right now. She’s assured me that she’s in bed watching trashy reality TV but…well, she went through a bad breakup, one that required a restraining order against her abusive ex, and I’m just worried that the asshole isn’t going to leave her alone. Narcissistic, entitled men like Mark don’t like being put in their place.”
I winced. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
She nodded and gave me a murmured thanks. “It’s just that I keep having flashbacks of the whole Lance thing with Raven and what an unhinged psycho he was…” Her words cut off and her eyes suddenly went wide. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry. That was inappropriate.”
I tipped my head, not the least bit offended. “Why? Because he’s my twin brother? Trust me, I know who Lance is and it’s not a solid, upstanding citizen. We were never close and we couldn’t be more different.”
“I just…” She shook her head, causing her soft blonde waves to brush across her shoulders. “I forget that he’s your twin brother. The two of you don’t look identical.”
“No, we’re fraternal, thank God.”
She nodded, then leaned against the concrete railing and glanced out over the city. “So, where is Owen tonight?” she asked, making casual conversation.
“His mother has him for the weekend.” I settled in beside her, arms braced on the top of the barrier. “I get him back tomorrow afternoon.”
She gave me a curious, sidelong glance. “Is that hard…splitting time with her?”
“Always,” I admitted. “It’s too quiet when he’s not around. I’m used to him running through the house no matter how many times I tell him not to, or playing his video games and the animated sounds he makes, or his constant inquisitive questions. Don’t get me wrong. Having a bit of silence is nice, but I definitely feel like something is missing when he’s gone.”
“He’s a great kid,” she said softly, having interacted with him many times because of Raven being Owen’s aunt. “He seems very well adjusted despite…”
Her voice trailed off again, as if she didn’t want to broach a sensitive topic. “Despite the divorce and having to divide his time between two parents?” I finished for her.
“Yes.” She smiled. “Every time I see the two of you together, he’s like your little mini-me. Not only does he look a lot like you, at the pool party Raven and Remy had last month I was laughing at how much he tried to mimic you.”
I vividly remembered that day, not because of my son’s antics, but because of the bikini Stevie had worn that had her lush breasts and curves on display.
A light breeze blew, and I saw her shiver, and there was no missing the way her nipples tightened and pushed against the thin material of her dress. She rubbed her arms with her hands, and without thinking or even asking her if she was cold, because clearly she was and there were no heat lamps on this side of the terrace, I shrugged out of my suit coat.
“Here. Take my jacket,” I said, settling the material over her shoulders, not questioning the possessive way it made me feel to see her wrapped up in my coat.
She groaned as the warmth inside of the jacket chased away her chill. “So much better. Thank you.” She grabbed the lapels and pulled them closed in front of her, and I watched as she put her nose against the expensive cashmere fabric, closed her eyes, and inhaled.
“Mmm.” Her lashes drifted back open, her eyes half-mast and flirtatious. “It smells like you.”
I cocked my head, though my dick reacted to the husky tone of her voice. “Is that a good thing?”
“A really good thing.” She breathed in the scent again, and I imagined her doing the same thing against my neck where I’d lightly sprayed the fragrance. “Whatever cologne you wear…now that’s an aphrodisiac.”
I chuckled. “Better than oysters?”
She laughed. “Most definitely.”
We both turned back to the stunning view of Manhattan at night, a comfortable silence settling between us.
I was the first to break it. “So, I’ve always been curious,” I said, casting a glance her way. “Is Stevie short for another name, like Stephanie?”
“No,” she said, and gave a wry laugh as she turned her head to look at me. “I’m actually lucky my name isn’t Steven . My father wanted a son. He didn’t get one with Valerie, who my mother named. And when I was born a girl, out of pure spite he named me Stevie, since that was the name he’d picked out for a boy.”
I felt my brows rise in shock.
“Yes, my father was an asshole,” she said bitterly, giving me the impression that her family’s history was just as dysfunctional as my own.
I didn’t want her traveling down that road. Not tonight, when everything was so enjoyable between us. “I like the name. It suits you.”
She gave me a skeptical, challenging look. “How so?”
“You’re feisty. Fun. Easygoing.” Without thinking, I lifted a hand and brushed a few wayward strands of hair off her cheek, the pads of my fingers caressing her soft skin. “Maybe even creative or artistic. Adventurous, despite not trying oysters.”
Her lips parted as she stared into my eyes, captivating me. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d paid that much attention to me, to be able to come to that conclusion.”
“Stevie…I paid attention.” My voice was low, raspier than I’d intended. I wanted to tell her all the things I’d noticed, all the different ways I’d imagined kissing her, fucking her, hearing her soft, sultry moans as I made her come.
Our eyes remained locked, and in the background I vaguely heard the DJ announce the last song of the evening. In front of me, Stevie’s pink, glossy lips curled up in a mischievous smile.
“Last song of the night and it’s a slow one,” she mused playfully. “Care to dance?”
I recognized a dare when I saw one. A temptation I ought to resist, but Raven was right. I did need to do things that made me feel good and happy, and right now, Stevie tapped into both.
Without verbally replying, I closed the short distance between us and took her into my arms. Sliding one arm inside my jacket and around her waist to bring our bodies flush together, and taking hold of her hand in mine. I heard her soft gasp of surprise, which reflected in her eyes as she looked up at me, as if she hadn’t really thought I’d follow through on her challenge.
We were quiet as we slow danced in the dark, our bodies moving in sync, neither one of us breaking eye contact. Our thighs rubbed as we shifted, and I slid my hand lower, to the base of her spine. Splaying my fingers, I pressed her even tighter against me, making sure she could feel the hard ridge of my cock grinding against her stomach.
Having her this close was pure torture, considering all the wicked things I’d already done to her in my head, in my dirtiest fantasies when I was alone at night, dick in hand. As the sexual tension between us heightened, I decided that tonight I wasn’t going to fight the attraction between us.
Mutual desire flickered in her gaze and her tongue skimmed her lower lip. “Caleb…” she whispered.
I heard the soft plea in her voice, and wanting to selfishly indulge myself when it came to Stevie, I released her hand and pushed my fingers through her hair, gripping the soft strands and tipping her head back so that her mouth was right below mine. Without hesitation, I crushed my lips to hers. Seconds later, my tongue slid deep and tangled with hers. She clutched the front of my shirt in her hands and whimpered, the needy sound reverberating throughout my entire body.
God, she made me fucking ravenous.
I thought I could stop with one taste, but I was wrong. Her mouth molded to mine as the kiss turned deeper, hotter, both of us unable to get enough. All I could think about was stripping her bare, licking her everywhere , then sinking as deep as I could get inside her pussy.
My dick throbbed at the thought, and judging by the way she arched against me and made soft mewling sounds, there was no denying she wanted the same thing.
Knowing that our make-out session was about to get out of hand in a very public place, and quickly, I ended the kiss. My hand was still in her hair, and she looked dazed by what had just transpired between us. Right now, all I wanted was this one thing: a night with Stevie, just for myself. Desperately.
“Come back to my place,” I whispered, issuing the invitation as I slid my palm down so that I was cupping her cheek and my thumb slid across her damp bottom lip. “I don’t have pomegranates, but I do have chocolate.”
A sparkle lit her eyes, and she smiled at my teasing comment. “That’s okay with me, because I hate pomegranates.”
I chuckled. “I’ll add that to your list of things you won’t eat.”
She bit her bottom lip, looking adorably sexy. “And, Caleb, you don’t need chocolate to seduce me. You already have.”