Ego Maniac(71)

I waited until we were outside of the building before even attempting to approach Alexa. The last thing I needed was for her to scream that I was harassing her and have Walliford lock me up.

I gritted my teeth. “Alexa, can I speak to you, please?”

Carlyle took her elbow. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alexa.”

I ignored him, looking my ex-wife in the eye. “You owe me at least this much. It’s been more than two years since I found out, and it still goddamn hurts. But I’ve never let Beck see or feel anything different than what he is to me. No matter what some fucking blood test says, he’s my son.” She looked away. “Look at me, Alexa. Look at me.” When she finally met my eyes, I continued. “You know me. Will I give up even if I lose in two weeks?”

Her lawyer stepped in. “Are you threatening my client?”

I continued to hold Alexa’s eyes. “No. I’m asking her to put our son first and not drag this out.”

She took a deep breath. “He’s not your son. Let’s go, Mr. Carlyle.”

Thank God Roman was standing next to me. He wrapped his arms around my chest so I couldn’t go after her, even as she walked away.





Before the flight home, I attempted unsuccessfully to sync my calendar so I could spend a few hours shuffling my schedule in order to spend Monday, Tuesday, and half the day Wednesday in New York, then be back in Atlanta for dinner with Beck on Wednesday night. I’d then stay in Atlanta and work remotely Thursday through Friday before I picked up Beck again for the weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy to cram an entire week’s worth of client appointments, depositions, and court appearances into two and a half days, but what choice did I have? My son needed to come first. He was already confused by the sudden move and not being able to spend his weekends at Daddy’s place. I also had little doubt that if I missed a single visitation, Judge Walliford would hear about it. I didn’t need to give him any more ammunition to use against me.

Even though my son was my priority, I had another focus now that I was back on New York soil. I hadn’t been sure I’d be able to catch the last flight home from Atlanta, so I didn’t mention to Emerie that there was a chance I’d be back tonight. It was late, almost midnight, but I gave the cabbie her address instead of mine anyway.

For the six days I’d been gone, we’d talked every night—and most nights ended with my jerking off to the hum of her vibrator. It had helped take the edge off, but at the same time also made me hungry for the real thing.

The inside of her apartment building was quiet. I made my way up in the elevator without anyone questioning me, since her building had no doorman. I hated that, though. She needed a safer place to live—any asshole could be knocking on her door. Come to think of it, one was about to. Setting my bags down to knock, I glanced over at the apartment next door.

Yeah. She definitely needs a safer place to live.

After two rounds of knocking—the second one so loud I thought I might wake a neighbor or two—a sleepy-looking Emerie came to the door.

Since she’d been asleep, her contacts were out, and she had her glasses on. God, I love her in those things.

“Hey. What are you—”

I didn’t give her a chance to finish, didn’t even say hello. At least not in so many words anyway. Instead, I helped myself inside, walking her backward as I not-so-gently took her face in my hands and kissed her. I kissed her hard and long, kicking the door closed behind me before lifting her so her legs could wrap around my waist. It felt incredible—like the cure for the perpetual suck-ass feeling I’d had for the last week.

When I slipped my hand under her sexy little sleep shorts and grabbed a handful of her backside, she moaned into my mouth, and I had the urge to put her down so I could fist pump. But that would have meant moving my already fully erect cock away from the warmth between her spread legs, and there was no damn way that was happening. So instead, I somehow made my way to the couch without tripping and unceremoniously dropped her on it before covering her with my body.

“I’ve fucking missed you.” My voice was raw.

Emerie’s eyes were hooded and happy. “I guessed that much from your hello.”

I started to suck on her neck as my hands moved to take down her shorts and underwear at the same time. “Did you miss me?”

Her fingernails dug into my back as I nipped my way from her neck to her ear. “Yes,” she breathed. “I did. A lot.”

I bit down on her earlobe as I stroked two fingers up and down her pussy. “How much. Are you wet for me?” I already knew the answer, of course, but I waited for her to tell me.

“Yes.”

I rubbed her clit with my thumb. “Yes what?”

“Yes, I’m wet for you.”

“Tell me your pussy is wet for me. I want to hear you say it.” I was already unbuckling my pants. Who knew how dexterous I was—somehow managing to undress both of us with one hand while sucking on her neck, her ear, her lips, and the other hand rubbing her wet pussy.

“My…pussy is wet for you.”

God, there was nothing sexier than hearing Emerie say she was hot for me. The last week of hell was a distant memory, and all I could think about was being inside of her.

“I missed you so much,” I told her again, because even though I’d already said it, it was just so goddamn true.