04 Naked Games (19 page)

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Authors: Anne Rainey

Tags: #Hard to Get

BOOK: 04 Naked Games
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W
hen Dean arrived at his office, Jonas was already there, pacing back and forth. “How’d you get in here?” Dean asked, frowning down at the doorknob. “I thought I locked up yesterday.”
“You did.” Jonas shrugged, completely unrepentant. “It’s not my fault you need better locks.”
“You picked my lock?” Dean shook his head as he moved around the desk to sit down. “Why am I even surprised by that?”
“Beats me,” he said as he took the chair across from him. “The file is there”—he pointed to a manila folder—“and it’s not pretty.”
Dean looked down at the innocent-looking file, a feeling of dread filling him. He should throw it in the trash and forget about the whole damn thing. He trusted Catherine. He knew he’d always trusted her. It’d been Linda’s betrayal that had clouded his judgment, but he was seeing things clear now. Catherine wasn’t Linda. She wasn’t anything like the other women who’d hurt him either. Dean had been a damn fool to even think of comparing her to anyone else.
“Well?” Jonas said, obviously annoyed. “Are you going to open it or stare at it all day?”
Dean picked up the folder, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure what to do. Opening it seemed like a betrayal to Catherine. If he trusted her then he shouldn’t look in the folder. Right?
Jonas cursed and reached across the desk. He snatched the folder right out of his hand and opened it, then said, “You’re making me nuts.” He yanked out a few papers and tossed them at him. “There, read it.”
Dean looked at the top sheet. It was a legal court document. It took reading it twice before the full meaning hit him. “What the fuck,” he muttered.
“My sentiments exactly,” Jonas bit out.
Dean read it again, unwilling to believe his own eyes. “According to this, Catherine’s biological mom was raped?”
“Gracie and Catherine’s biological mother, you mean. Don’t forget that.”
“Jesus H.” Dean pushed his fingers through his hair. His hand shook as he stared at the text. “How did you find this?”
“It took some doing, but I managed.” Jonas curled his lip in distaste. “I felt like I needed a shower after I read what that bastard did to Gracie and Catherine’s mom.”
Dean went still when he read the date the incident was reported to the police. “This occurred the same year Catherine was born.” He looked across the desk at Jonas. “Don’t fucking tell me that means Catherine was conceived as a result of—”
Jonas held up a hand. “Don’t even say it. It makes me sick to think what that asshole did.” Jonas shook his head. “I don’t think I have to tell you that Catherine and Gracie would both be devastated if they found out about this. They don’t need to know what their mother endured.”
In complete agreement, Dean nodded. As he stared down at the information Jonas had uncovered, another bit of data popped out at him. “According to this, they didn’t convict the guy.” He cursed. “Not enough evidence.”
The grin that came across Jonas’s face sent a chill down Dean’s spine. “They didn’t convict on the rape charge, but he ended up busted later on down the line for killing a store clerk during a robbery.”
Dean nodded, glad that the animal was off the streets. “So he’s in prison, good.”
“Well, not exactly.”
Dean quirked a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s dead. The loser ended up falling on a knife while showering. Imagine that?” Jonas crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in the chair. “Good riddance, if you ask me.
“I agree.” Dean imagined how devastated Catherine would be if she ever found out. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this information?”
“Destroy it?” Jonas said, offering up the most sane answer. “It’s what I’d do. Don’t let that piece of shit cause any more pain, Dean.”
Dean knew Jonas was right, but it felt wrong to know who Catherine’s biological father was and not tell her. Of course he didn’t know for sure, but considering the date the rape was reported and the date Catherine was born, any moron could do the math. It made more sense now why the woman had given Catherine up. A woman would have a difficult time raising a child knowing how that child had been conceived. His gut clenched in pain for Catherine.
“Why the hell did I ask you to go digging?” He threw the paper down. “Fuck!”
“Because you’re a paranoid dick?” Jonas said obligingly.
“Thanks,” Dean growled. “I feel so much better now.”
“Look, it’s up to you what you do with that paper, because by all appearances Catherine belongs to you, but if she were mine I’d want to protect her.”
“Great idea, but there’s one problem. What if she goes looking for her biological father on her own and finds this herself? It could be even worse for her. Wouldn’t it be better if I told her?”
Jonas stood and leaned across the desk. “Damn it, she’s happy now that she’s found Gracie. Ever since Catherine found those letters, they’ve both made peace with the woman that brought them into this world,” he said, his voice rising along with his temper. “Leave it the hell alone, Dean, or you’ll end up hurting them both.”
Dean’s anger boiled over and he shot out of his chair. It fell backward and hit the floor. “Don’t you think I know that?” He scrubbed a hand over his face and started pacing. “The last thing I want is to hurt either of them, but now that I know all this it feels wrong not to tell Catherine.” He stopped and turned to Jonas. “That’s exactly the sort of shit her adoptive parents did to her, Jonas, and look where that ended up. Gracie and Catherine missed out on so much, and all because of secrets. The secrets need to stop.”
“Fine, do what you think is right,” he said, throwing his hands in the air. “But you’d better tell Wade first. He’s going to be livid if this news reaches Gracie before he gets a chance to break it to her gently.”
Dean nodded. “I’ll talk to him. We’ll decide what to do together.” He looked up and their gazes locked. “I’m sorry for pulling you into all this. Sorry as hell.”
Jonas cursed. “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Me too,” he muttered as Jonas left.
Dean picked the paper up and folded in, then stuck it in his coat pocket. It seemed to burn a hole clear through to his skin. He took off the heavy Carhartt and tossed it over a chair. God, how was he going to tell her? The idea of causing Catherine even an ounce of pain nearly had him doubling over. But damn it, enough people had screwed with her life as it was, and he wasn’t about to do that to her too. She had a right to know the truth, all of it. He only prayed it was the right decision and wouldn’t end up blowing up in his face.
That’s when it hit him. He loved Catherine. He wasn’t entirely sure how the hell it had happened, and it didn’t really matter. She was smart and quirky and kind, and the sexiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Dean knew deep down that she was too good for him, but he was just selfish enough not to care. He aimed to keep her.
On impulse, he grabbed his cell phone and sent Catherine a quick text.
DID YOU READ THE CHAPTERS?
When only a few seconds went by before he heard a small tinkling sound to indicate he had a message, Dean’s heart sped up. As he read the text on the screen, he grinned.
YES. I’M WILLING.
The three words were enough to have his dick harder than a damn railroad spike. Still, he wanted her to be 100 percent. Role-playing the way he wanted to wasn’t for the innocent, and in a lot of ways Catherine was very innocent. Would she truly be able to call him master?
ARE YOU SURE? he sent back.
A minute, then two. Three minutes went by, and Dean had to pick his chair up off the floor and sit down. He suspected that maybe she was going to back out. His phone sounded again, and Dean about came in his jeans at her neatly typed reply.
YES . . . MASTER.
DAMN, I MISS YOU! he sent back, wishing he were with her, where he could show her just how much with his lips and tongue. He wanted to tell her he loved her. He wanted her to know before she left and went back home. And God, he desperately wanted to hear the words back.
LOL, DITTO. She texted back.
He grinned and sent a text back. MEET ME AT MY HOUSE. SEVEN?
THAT WORKS.
SEE YOU THEN, SWEETS.
K, DON’T WORK TOO HARD.
Dean tossed his phone onto his desk when he read her final text. He looked over at his coat. Maybe Jonas was right, maybe some things should stay buried. What purpose would it serve for Catherine to know that her mom had been raped and that her biological father was the scum of the earth? None.
Still, he picked up his cell and hit his brother’s number. Wade would want to know, even if they both decided to bury the information. Together they would decide what to do.
 
“Are you having fun?” Catherine said from the chair beside Gracie. They’d already gotten their eyebrows waxed and their fingers painted. Now they sat beside each other as a salon tech did their toes. Catherine had decided on a mauve shade of polish, while Gracie went for fire engine red.
“Definitely!” Gracie said. “I love learning all the little similarities and differences between us.”
Catherine laughed. “Me too. Like the fact we’re both ticklish.”
“Exactly,” Gracie replied.
Catherine noticed Gracie squirming, and the technician gave Gracie a dirty look. Catherine had an urge to apologize for making both women’s jobs that much more difficult, but her phone buzzed, distracting her. She looked down at her purse sitting in her lap, wondering if it was Dean calling. She took it out and hit the text messaging icon. The first name to pop up was Dean’s. Catherine smiled when she read the short text. He wanted to know if she’d read the chapters.
Uh-huh,
Catherine thought. What Dean really wanted to know, the part left unsaid, was had she liked what she read and would she be willing to try it with him. Before she lost her nerve, Catherine sent a quick confirmation back to him, then waited.
“Is that Dean?”
Catherine turned her head to see her sister watching her with a gentle smile.
“Yeah.”
“I thought so, considering the way you were staring at the phone all gooey-eyed.” Gracie paused then asked, “What did he want?” She winced. “Sorry, that’s rude.”
Catherine shook her head. “No, we’re sisters. It’s okay to ask those types of questions, right?” She wondered if she should talk to Gracie about Dean’s penchant toward the kinkier side of sex, but she wasn’t sure she should. Would Dean see it as a breach of trust? Then again, girl talk was girl talk, no men allowed.
Catherine leaned close, hoping the nail techs were too busy to pay them any mind, and asked, “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” Gracie replied, “you can ask me anything.”
In a quieter voice, Catherine asked, “Does Wade ever want to do anything . . . kinky in bed?”
Gracie laughed, but Catherine noticed she also turned beet red. “Uh, yeah. Quite often actually.” She tilted her head to the side and asked in a hushed whisper, “Why? Is Dean into kink?”
Catherine knew by the way her entire face and neck suddenly felt like she’d stepped into a volcano that she was blushing now too. “He wants me to try role-playing.” Catherine’s phone buzzed again. She quickly grabbed it and read the message on the screen. Dean wanted to know if she was sure. Was she?
Gracie’s brows scrunched together. “Er, I’m not certain I’m following you.”
“He wants me to call him master,” Catherine blurted out. She heard one of the nail techs cough, but Catherine didn’t have the nerve to look and see which one.
“Oooh, I see,” Gracie whispered back. “So, it’s like a dominant and submissive thing?”
“Yes, that’s it exactly. Has Wade ever . . . ?”
Gracie covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Let’s just say Wade and Dean have a lot in common.”
Somehow that made Catherine feel ten times better. “I told him I’d give it a try,” she confided. “Do you think that was a mistake?”
“No, definitely not.” Gracie shrugged. “I mean, with some men I suppose it could be weird or scary, but if Dean is anything like his brother, then he’ll make sure you’re enjoying it or he’ll stop.”
Catherine thought that over then said, “He did say that his pleasure comes from mine.”
“That’s pretty much the way Wade feels too. I mean, I don’t think it would be a turn-on for them if we weren’t into it too.”
“I guess when I think of it that way, what do I have to lose?” Catherine went for broke and sent another text. A few messages later, she tossed her phone back into her purse. “Done,” Catherine said, as excitement skittered through her.
When Gracie didn’t say anything, Catherine looked over at her and noticed the way she stared at the tile floor, as if working over a problem in her head.
“Gracie?” Catherine asked, curious what her sister was thinking about.
“You’re in love with him,” Gracie said as she turned her attention to her once more.

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