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  Try Me

  Stacey Lynn

  © 2014 Stacey Lynn

  All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permissions from the author, except for using small quotes for book review quotations. All characters and storylines are the property of the author. The characters, events and places portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of all products referenced in this work of fiction. The publication and use of these trademarks in not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Editing provided by: Taylor K Editing Services

  One

  Marcus

  In the six months since I joined McMillan Holdings, I learned it only took one small, seemingly inconsequential moment for your life to be picked up, tipped upside down, and shaken like a snow globe that leaves your feet spinning for traction amidst a whole new realm of uncertainty.

  Who knew that it would take one knock on a door to run straight into the only woman I had ever loved, find out I had a son, and then find out that same woman was in love with my new boss, Jack McMillan. To top it all off, I learned how big of a dick my dad truly was. It gave me great satisfaction to blackmail the bastard’s ass, get him to step down from his Senate seat mid-term, and make sure he had nothing to do with anyone I cared about ever again.

  The problem? I was a fucking hero and I still didn’t get the girl. I knew it would happen. You couldn’t be within five feet of Jack and Emma together and not feel their attraction for each other. But even after she told me ‘no’ to trying to be parents together for Logan’s sake - and mine, really – a small part of me held out hope that she’d choose the better man.

  Maybe she did. It just so happened that, in her eyes, I wasn’t him.

  Which stung like a bitch three months ago, and it didn’t make me feel any better now.

  Not when Jack was in my office, sitting in a chair across from my desk, and waiting for me to react to what he had just told me. What he had just asked me for help with.

  “Are you going to say anything?” he asked me, one eyebrow raised, looking like the cocky son of a bitch that he was. But damn it if he wasn’t also a good guy, an even better boss, and shit – even I had to admit he thought Logan walked on water.

  I just hated sharing my kid with him. I hadn’t known Logan existed until a few months ago, and I wanted to spend all my time with him. Instead, I only saw him a couple weekends a months and a few nights a week. My ex, Emma, was generous with me seeing him whenever I wanted considering we didn’t have a formal custody arrangement set up, but it was the fact that I had to ask in the first place that stung like I had knocked over a wasp’s nest.

  “Are you asking for my blessing, Jack?”

  “I don’t need it.” One side of my lips twitched up in a half-smile at his arrogance. “I just didn’t want you blindsided by it. And I’d like your help.”

  I snorted. “You want me to help you propose to my ex-fiancée? That’s a pretty low blow even for you, isn’t it?”

  Jack and I normally got along, but there were times when I’m sure both of us were tempted to pull out our dicksand compare to see whose was bigger. This was one of those times. I hated thinking about the fact that Emma actually knew who would win that competition.

  Jack swiped his tongue across the front of his lips and grinned. Some days I admired his business skills. Other days, I wanted to beat him to a pulp, pick up my – er, his – girl, and carry her off caveman style along with our son. My own family was pretty fucked up and I had loved Emma. The night she told me she was pregnant, I had wanted to hop on a plane that very second and take her to Vegas and get married.

  The thought of how my life would be now, if I’d done that, haunted me in my dreams.

  “I don’t need your help with Emma, smart ass. I take care of her plenty.” And the bitch of it was that he really did. Jack treated Emma like a damn queen. She deserved it. It just didn’t make the sting any less painful for me. “I’m asking you to take Logan for the night after the wedding so I can have some time alone with her. Then bring him back to the condo early the next morning so he can be there, too.”

  I closed my eyes to erase the image of Emma naked, sprawled out on a bed, and making love to…someone other than me. Then I walked to the bar on the other side of my office and poured two glasses of Scotch. Jack took one from me and kept his eyes on me as I threw mine back in one gulp, relishing in the burn of the alcohol as it slid down my throat.

  “I can do that.” I wasn’t invited to Macy and Tate’s wedding. I had known Macy in college since her and Emma were best friends, but being at their wedding and watching Emma with Jack and Logan together as one big happy family was too much for me to deal with. “It’s not a problem.”

  Jack nodded and blinked his eyes. He had to know how hard this was for me. I also knew he wasn’t trying to be a prick about it.

  “Emma’s parents are in town for Christmas,” he started, clearing his throat with the subject change. “They want to invite you over for Christmas Day dinner.”

  Because that’s exactly how I wanted to spend Christmas. Me, Logan, the soon-to-be-engaged happy couple, and the even happier grandparents. Lovely. No way in hell would I survive.

  “Thanks, but I have plans after I drop Logan off.” I got Logan for Christmas Eve and had promised Emma that I’d have him to their apartment first thing in the morning so he could have Santa visit me at my house and theirs, too.

  “Do you?” he asked, tossing back the rest of his Scotch. He placed it on my desk and stood up, not waiting for my answer.

  I didn’t give him one. We both knew I was spending the holiday alone, but alone would be better than spending it with Emma’s family as an outsider and having to share Logan’s attention with Jack all day.

  Fuck me.

  ***

  ONE WEEK LATER

  “Get your ass out here.” I could barely hear Dean’s voice through the background noise of the bar he was in.

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off.

  “So help me, Marcus. It’s New Year’s Eve. Get your ass out here before I show up at your place and drag you out.”

  “Not feeling it, Dean.”

  He heard me. He just ignored me. “Be here in twenty. I got someone I want you to meet.”

  I rolled my eyes when I heard the sounds of the club turn into deafening silence. The asshole had hung up on me. Christmas may have come and gone, but he knew I was being a miserable son of a bitch about Emma’s upcoming engagement. Was it insane that I knew about my ex’s pending engagement before she did? Since Dean and his brothers were at a club just a block from my condo, he wasn’t shitting me about dragging my ass out. We had actually become decent friends in the last couple months – once we got over the awkwardness of the fact that I was still in love with the woman he had gone out on a date with.

  I sat on the couch in my living room and stared out at Chicago. Clubs were going to be insanely packed and loud and I didn’t want to put up with the bullshit.

  I also didn’t want to spend another damn day in my condo, alone, wishing I could have done shit differently. Wishing I would have been a better man. Wishing I would have known my dad was a lying, cheating asshole. Wishing I would have believed Emma against everything else I’d heard.

  I sighed, rubbing my hands roughly through my hair. I had to get over Emma. She would never again be mine.


  With that thought in mind, I grabbed my keys and my coat and headed out to meet Dean, his brother, Daniel, and whoever else was with them. My guess was Dean’s girlfriend, Harper, and some of her friends were there, too.

  Not that I wanted anything to do with Harper’s friends. If they were anything like her, they were probably quiet and reserved. Not a bad thing for Dean. Just not the type of girls to get me out of my slump.

  But the best way to get over a girl? Get another one under you.

  At least I wouldn’t ring in the New Year alone. And maybe I’d have a better memory to cling to in the upcoming nights once Emma and Jack were happily engaged.

  Two

  I easily passed through the line of people bundled in their winter clothing, silently thanking Dean for putting my name on the waiting list. I smirked when I had got his text telling me. It meant Dean had planned this outing and didn’t bother letting me know until the last possible second - probably so I wouldn’t waste time arguing with him.

  No one ever accused Dean of being an idiot.

  I saw her before I realized she was at Dean’s table. Why I picked out a stranger in the bar before a guy I’d become close friends with over the last several months, I had no idea.

  But she was facing me, sitting at a round hi-top table. She threw her head back, and her dark brown hair flew out behind her. Her eyes crinkled on the sides with pleasure and joy as she laughed.

  The sound flew straight across the loud bar and smacked me in the chest with the force of a Mac Truck. My feet stumbled. I glared at the man next to me¸ silently blaming him. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers. She turned to a man standing next to her and let him place his hand over hers.

  I felt a growl rise from deep in my throat at the way he touched her, joined with an animalistic urge to shred every man within a three foot radius of this woman. The bombshell was dressed in a skin tight silver dress, silver bracelets wrapped around one wrist, and full, dark pink lips that I wanted on me.

  I wanted her, despite not understanding the visceral reaction I had to this complete stranger.

  All the sounds in the bar disappeared. I heard nothing except the blood pulsing in my ears as it headed straight toward my dick. Hell, if she wasn’t beautiful. I was almost to the table, my feet moving and neither of my heads thinking clearly, when Dean finally saw me.

  “Marcus!” he yelled, smacking me on the back. I had completely forgotten I was supposed to be looking for him and the force of his hand on my back took me by surprise.

  I watched the bombshell’s eyes move toward me before glancing away and down at the girl next to her. Harper.

  I had completely missed Harper, too.

  “What’s up?” I asked, trying to shake off the feelings I had for this beautiful stranger.

  I said hello to his brother, Daniel, and let him introduce me to his coworkers. I didn’t pay attention to their names as I shook their hands and walked around the table, standing closer to the goddess in silver.

  “Marcus Whitmore,” I said, reaching out my hand.

  “Tabby. It’s lovely to meet you.” Her words hit me. Holy shit, she was British. That accent. I wanted her to say my name. I wanted to see and hear how it sounded rolling off her tongue, out of her dark pink lips.

  It would be perfect. And then I swallowed, because hell, I was already hard.

  I felt her hand tremble in mine when she placed it inside my waiting palm. But even through her nervousness I saw a hint of desire. Maybe lust. It made me want her more.

  “Nice to meet you, Tabby.” I dropped her hand and moved closer to her. She didn’t seem to mind me standing in her space.

  So I leaned in closer.

  “What are you drinking?” I didn’t care what she was drinking. I wanted to see if she smelled as pretty as she looked and sounded. Mostly I just wanted to hear that voice again.

  “Harper called it a long island. But she…” she paused, and waved her hand to Dean and Harper, and the rest of their friends, “and they were handing out….shots.”

  Her cheeks flushed and I turned to Harper, who must have been wasted. She was laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. I had never seen Harper so happy or giggly. “Blow jobs, Tabs. We’ve been doing blow jobs.”

  I suddenly wanted one, too.

  “If you’d like to do another, I could get one for you,” I whispered, leaning close to Tabby’s ear, not giving a shit that I was hitting on Dean’s girlfriend’s friend. Whatever. Based on his grin, she was the reason he had dragged me out.

  Her cheeks turned a bright pink against her pale skin. I suddenly hated every woman who tanned to excess. There was something pure - something incredible - about her pale, flawless skin. “I’m sure you could.”

  She turned away, looked into her drink, and then at the DJ spinning behind the dance floor. I wanted to grab her and take her out there. Surround her body with mine and feel every curve, taste her neck, and run my tongue all over her body. I looked down and saw that her pulse had picked up. I saw it thumping at the base of her neck, right above her collarbone, and I had to curl my fingers under the table to keep from touching her.

  Talk about crossing a line. I had just met her. I couldn’t explain my attraction other than she was the hottest woman I had seen in months. Years. Possibly ever.

  “Here are your drinks, man,” Dean’s voice cut in. I eyed the blowjob shot he set on the table and a beer for me. When I glanced up, Dean nodded toward Tabby. I hoped like hell she wasn’t reading the silent messages we were sending.

  You like her, yeah?

  Thanks man, I fucking owe you one. I tipped my beer to him in thanks and redirected my full attention to Tabby as she readied herself to take her shot.

  Her lips curved around the shot glass while her hands disappeared under the table. Without using their hands, Tabby and Harper tipped their heads straight back, swallowing the milky white shot down their throats.

  I wanted to be that shot glass.

  As the girls laughed and high-fived one another, the men cheered.

  I reached down and adjusted my hard dick and took a long swallow of my beer. I didn’t get it. Maybe I was just horny. Maybe it had been too long since I’d had a woman in my bed. I had spent months trying to get Emma back, and once that failed, I’d been a part-time single parent to Logan. Other women hadn’t held an interest.

  Until now.

  I shook my head, trying to gain control of myself when I felt a small, warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to face Harper. Her smile was wide and her eyes were hazy.

  She winked at me. “Tabby and I were at a party earlier.”

  My eyes went to Dean who was shaking his head, holding back a laugh.

  I frowned down at Harper. She looked nothing like the reserved and quiet girl I had met weeks ago. “And?” It was New Year’s. Everyone had been at a party earlier.

  “We bought sex toys.”

  I choked over my tongue and looked back at Dean. On my other side, I saw Tabby turn a furious shade of purple. It matched her lips. I wanted to press my lips to her cheeks and feel the heat I knew was radiating from them.

  I leaned back so I could watch both women. How drunk were they? Harper was laughing as Tabby shook her head in embarrassment at her friend.

  “You what?”

  Harper nodded, her eyebrows arched so high that they disappeared under her blonde bangs. “Yup.” Then she hiccupped. “Tabby got the thrusting rabbit. It’s supposed to be ah-may-zing.”

  I couldn’t look at Tabby. Thrusting what? I felt my dick swell in my jeans, the zipper cutting into my sensitive skin. There was no way I could look at her without imagining…hell. I was already imagining thrusting. Vibrators. Me.

  “How drunk are you?”

  “I did quite a few blow jobs.” Harper smiled. Either pleased with the reaction she was getting from Dean – who looked about two seconds away from ripping off her dress - or totally oblivious.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. When I opened them
, Tabby shrugged one shoulder with an expression of ‘I don’t know what in the hell to do with her, either’ written all over her. Her pink cheeks had faded to a more natural color.

  “Do we need to cut you off?” I asked. I tried for serious, but truly, I was too surprised at how crazy she was being to mean it. There was no way Dean was cutting her off. He was enjoying this way too much.

  “Oh, don’t be a tosser.” Harper laughed and waved her hand in the air. “It’s New Year’s Eve.”

  “Speak English, Harper.”

  “She is speaking English. Proper English.” How had I never fantasized about a British woman before? Even the way the word ‘proper’ fell from Tabby’s lips was sexy.

  “What is a tosser?” I asked her. Harper giggled again, but I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t focus on anything except watching Tabby create words that sounded hotter than anything I’d ever heard.

  She bit her bottom lip and smiled coyly, clearly pleased to explain the English word to me. “It’s a man….who uses his hand. A lot.”

  I bent down, leaning forward with my elbows on the table as I heard Daniel laughing. I ignored him. I could only focus on a pair of blue eyes that reminded me of the ocean. “I am not a tosser.”

  I was also lying. The only action my dick had seen in months was my hand. I also planned on changing that. Quickly.

  She smiled like she didn’t believe me, and I didn’t care. Something inside of me was determined to prove her wrong before the end of the night.

  “Can I get you another drink? Another blow job, perhaps?”

  She lowered her eyes and shook her head. “Not now. Maybe later though?”

  Hell, yes. Please let this not be more innuendo.

  “You got it,” I said, and reached for her hand. I had to get my hands on her. “Want to dance?” She slid off the stool and I got my first glimpse of her long, toned legs. Legs that went on forever and ended in a pair of heels that could do some serious damage when wrapped around my waist and digging into my back.