Trapping Wasp (Dead Presidents Book 3) Read online

  He cocked his head to the side and grinned at me. “This is all just a ploy to get me back to your place, isn’t it? Carly, if you want me in your apartment all you have to do is ask.”

  “Keep dreaming, soldier boy.”

  His sexy smile and ridiculous joke relaxed my shoulders. He was already affecting my body; there was no way I was letting him into my apartment. He and Trent could stay in the car while I ran up to grab the seat. No big deal. I had this.

  “It was worth a try.” He set Trent down on the ground. “You about ready, T-man?”

  “Yep!” Trent stuffed the last of his cone in his mouth and smiled around the disgusting mess.

  Wasp laughed at the sight (he would, he didn’t have to clean it up) and led us to his Jeep as I pulled out a wet wipe and started de-gooping my child. Once finished, I buckled Trent in (a seatbelt would have to do until we reached my apartment) and headed for the passenger’s seat, but Wasp stepped in front of me, cutting me off.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.

  “Uh, not that I’m aware of.”

  He gestured at his arm. “He got ice cream on me, too.”

  I pulled another wipe from the container and handed it to him.

  Refusing to take it, Wasp held his sticky arm out toward me. “Nope. I want the full-service treatment.” He winked at me.

  Wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into, I wiped down his arm feeling his muscles flex against my touch. When I finished, his eyes were darker, his expression more serious.

  “I’m glad you called me,” he said.

  It was still too soon to know if I’d made the right decision, so I nodded. “Thank you for coming.”

  Wasp

  I’D DEALT WITH enough stage five clingers over the course of my life that I’d developed rules to protect myself from them. In addition to never giving out my phone number and never doing repeats, I never allowed women on my bike or in my Jeep. Since patching in with the Dead Presidents, my hookups only ever saw my bed at the club, so it made following my rules easy.

  But now, there was Carly.

  I’d offered her and Trent a ride without thinking twice about it, and although it shouldn’t, breaking my own damn rule felt like the most natural thing in the world. I wanted them in my space, just like I wanted to see their apartment. I needed to find out what made this girl tick, and I was willing to break all my rules to do it.

  Why? I had no fucking clue, and I didn’t want to think too hard about it.

  Carly wiped the ice cream off my arm, her touch a temptation that only made me want her hands on me again. She finished and pulled away, but not before her breathing had sped up and fingers had stroked my arm.

  She wasn’t immune to me after all.

  The thought gave me hope as I hurried to open the passenger’s side door for her and waited. The confused look she gave me made me wonder if anyone had ever opened a door for her in her life. Making me wonder what sort of mannerless savages she hung out with.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice small and uncertain as she slid into the seat.

  “Yeah, no problem.” I got behind the wheel and asked, “Do you guys have plans? Anywhere specific you want to go after we grab Trent’s seat?”

  Carly glanced over the seat at Trent and shook her head. “Nope. We already went swimming and climbing at the Y.”

  The strap of her bathing suit was peeking out from under her sexy little dress. Wondering if she was wearing a bikini, I decided I needed to see it. Racking my brain for the best possible way to get her out of that dress and brighten Trent’s day, I considered taking them to the waterpark, but quickly dismissed the idea. The slides would be too busy, and I wanted them to myself, as selfish as that sounded. Then, the perfect idea hit me. “A buddy of mine owns a kayak rental shop and has been bugging me to try it out. You guys ever been kayaking?”

  “Kayaking?” Trent asked, stumbling over the word as he looked to his mom for an explanation. For being so young, he sure spoke well, no baby talk or whining. He was just a smart, fun, rad little kid.

  “Riding in long skinny boats,” Carly replied.

  “Like a canoe? Like Indians?”

  “Yes, like on that picture you colored me for Thanksgiving.” She turned her attention to me, and added, “Never been kayaking.”

  “It’s settled then.” I angled my rearview mirror so I could see Trent’s face. “I hear it’s a hard workout, but I think you can handle it. You ready to build some pecs of your own and have fun, T-man?”

  He flexed, grinning. “Mom can’t build pecs. She has boobies.”

  “My God, Trent,” Carly groaned, shaking her head. “You’ve got to stop saying that word in public.”

  “But it’s just me and you and Wasp,” he defended, sounding genuinely confused.

  Looking exasperated, Carly faced me. “He homes in on inappropriate words, topics, actions. Those are the ones he repeats. All the time. I tried to stop reacting to them, pretending they’re no big deal, but he still seems to know.”

  “He’s a smart kid, babe. There are worse things.” I glanced in the rearview mirror and Trent gave me a thumbs up.

  Carly navigated to her apartment building and she had me park in her roommate’s spot. Before I put the Jeep in park, she had the door open. “You two stay here, and I’ll run up and grab the seat.”

  Not a chance in hell. I was too damn curious about her to miss out on an opportunity to see her place and maybe reveal some of her secrets. Thankfully, Trent had my back.

  “I have to go potty, Mom,” he said.

  Carly looked over her shoulder, preparing to hurry around, but I was already climbing out to get him.

  “I got you T-man. I’ll take you up.” I opened the back door and unbuckled him.

  She looked like she wanted to argue, but bit her lip and led us into an older building with peeling paint and a musty smell. The security keypad leading in from the garage was broken, and the elevator jerked and squeaked, making me want to grab the sides, as if that could somehow stabilize the piece of shit and keep us from plummeting to our death if it gave out. I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything, but I didn’t like them living here. It didn’t seem safe.

  Carly’s apartment was located on the third floor. She led us down the hall and unlocked the door to let us in before herding Trent toward the bathroom. Alone in the living room, I began nosing around. The place was dated, but clean. Big windows let in plenty of natural light, showing off used but comfortable-looking light-colored furniture and a few pastel paintings on the wall. I don’t know what I’d been expecting Carly’s place to look like, but this wasn’t it. It seemed too airy and upbeat.

  “That’s Jessica’s family,” Carly said when she returned and caught me looking at a big group picture.

  I’d been so engaged in the task of trying to find her in the photo that I hadn’t even heard her come in. I glanced around the living room. “Is anything in here yours?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to get to know you.”

  “And you expect to do this by snooping around my apartment?”

  “Investigating, not snooping,” I corrected. “Usually people have personal shit lying around. Books, hobbies, music, decorations. But none of this is yours, is it?”

  She glanced around the room and shook her head. “Nope. I don’t put my life on display. My stuff stays in my room, and you’re not going in there, Wasp.”

  The entirety of her possessions fit in a bedroom? How was that possible? She had a kid. Surely, she should have all kinds of shit. “What about your family?” I asked. “Don’t you have any pictures of them?”

  She shrugged. “Nope.”

  Certain I must have heard wrong, because everyone had family pictures, I asked, “Pictures or family?”

  I thought I was being a smartass, but she answered, “Both.”

  “How do you not have family? Where are your parents?”

  “Your gu
ess is as good as mine, but we need to table this. Trent’s coming.”

  He rounded the corner and she pasted on a big smile for him. “You ready to go?”

  Trent’s gaze sought me out before he punched the air with an enthusiastic, “Yes!”

  The conversation Carly had tabled ate at me as I drove to Bellevue. Your guess is as good as mine? What the fuck did that mean? Were her parents dead? Were they missing? She was like a walking, breathing mystery, and the more I got to know her, the more questions I had. She clearly didn’t like to share personal information, though, so I’d have to figure her out carefully, so she didn’t spook and bolt like some sort of wild animal.

  Once we were in Bellevue, I parked in front of Greer Family Kayaking. Ian Greer was a repeat customer at the bike shop. Balding, in his mid-fifties, he was still in excellent shape. We entered his shop to find him standing behind the front counter, talking to a woman about the different types of kayaks he had to offer. His gaze met mine and his face lit up. Excusing himself from the conversation, he headed right over.

  “Wasp! You came.” We shook hands and his gaze took in Carly and Trent. “And you brought your family. I had no idea there was a missus and a child. Beautiful family. It’s so nice to meet you.”

  Carly’s eyes were wide as she looked from Trent to me. I could almost see the gears spinning in Trent’s head as his brain processed all the shit Ian was saying. I needed to set him straight before the kid got the wrong idea.

  “This is my friend, Carly, and her son, Trent. You’ve been blabbing about these kayaks so long, and Carly and Trent have never been kayaking either. Thought we’d stop in and try it… see if I can’t shut you up about them.”

  Laughing, he slapped his hands together. “Good. Good. I have the perfect thing all ready to go.” He walked back to the counter and grabbed three sheets of paper, handing them over. “Here, read over these waivers and sign them while I finish up with this customer, and then we’ll get you going.”

  We completed the liability waivers and started looking around at the different shit Ian sold. The man had quite the budding business going on here. No wonder he could afford badass customizations to his bike. “You have sunscreen for Trent?” I asked, picking up a bottle. If she didn’t I’d buy him some. Those sun rays beat down hard on the water and my little cousins had come off the fishing boat looking like lobsters more than once. I was trying to make Trent’s day better, not leave him in pain.

  Again, Carly gave me that confused look, like she was trying to figure me out. “Yeah, I have some on me. I should get him changed first.” She took Trent to the restroom and when they reemerged, he was wearing his swim trunks and nothing else. She slathered sunblock all over him before rubbing it on her arms and neck.

  There was something so fucking seductive about watching her hands slide over her skin that my jeans were suddenly so uncomfortable I had to adjust myself. Needing to feel her skin beneath my hands, I asked, “Want me to get your back?”

  “Uh… no. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Trent? You wanna put sunblock on mommy’s back?” She tugged a big clip from her purse and whipped her long dark hair around until it was in a messy bun.

  “Sure.”

  She kneeled and squeezed the tube into his little hand. He circled around her and got started, smearing the stuff unevenly.

  “All done,” he announced, almost instantly.

  I eyed his job, seeing glaring spots he missed. “You sure you don’t want me to help?”

  “No, we do this all the time, don’t we, kiddo?”

  He high-fived her and she stood.

  She’d bested me this time, but I had another trick up my sleeve. “Well, can you get my back?” I asked.

  She stiffened, eyes wide, expression terrified, like a deer in the goddamn headlights who couldn’t decide which way to bolt. “Uh… Trent can…”

  “Nope. I’ve seen his work. I want you to do it,” I said. “Come on, Carly. You scared to touch me? Scared you might like it?”

  “Don’t touch those, Trent,” she said. He was rocking from his toes to his heels as he studied a handful of tiny kayak replicas on a shelf.

  “Babe?”

  Turning her attention back to me, she folded her arms and stared me down. “I’m not afraid of you, Wasp.”

  Maybe not afraid, but I’d bet my left nut she was terrified. I hid a laugh and pulled my shirt over my head. Carly’s gaze went right to my chest. Her eyes widened, and her gaze drifted down my body before she made a visible effort to focus at my face.

  “See something you like?” I asked.

  Her cheeks reddened. “You wish.”

  I chuckled. “Play your cards right, and you might get lucky.”

  “We’re playing cards?” Trent asked, his face twisting up in disgust as he turned to stare at us. “I want to go in a canoe like an Indian.”

  I mussed up his hair. “We are definitely going kayaking, T-man. Maybe we’ll play cards later. If your mom wants to.”

  The look she gave me promised no cards—sexual in nature or otherwise—would be played, but I was confident I could change her mind. She’d called me for help, and I had every intention of showing her all my services.

  Turning to give her my back, I held my hair off my neck. Soft hands landed on my shoulders before circling lower, stirring my cock to life as I couldn’t help but imagine other places she could be touching. Stroking. God, her touch was so fucking erotic. Sucking in a deep breath, I willed my cock to settle the fuck down and thought about football, fishing, anything but the way I wanted her naked body pressed against mine.

  “All done.” Her voice sounded husky, breathy. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one affected by her rub down.

  Turning around I opened my arms so she could get the full effect of my torso. “Front too?”

  Her eyes were dark, dilated, and I could tell she was struggling to keep her gaze from dropping. “I think you can handle that yourself, Casanova.”

  My antics had gotten me upgraded from Romeo to Casanova. Chuckling, I covered my chest and arms in the cream. My skin rarely burnt, and I never wore sunscreen… unless, of course, I could con a hot chick into putting it on me, but it seemed wise to finish what she’d started. After my skin was protected, I hurried out to the Jeep to grab swim trunks out of my gym bag and went into the restroom to change before rejoining her.

  She gave me the once over. “You always keep swim trunks in your car? Or were you planning to come here today?”

  “I swim at the gym on the regular, babe. Always have gym clothes on me. Even in my bike’s saddlebags. A body doesn’t stay in this great shape on its own, you know?”

  “So humble.” She shook her head at me, but she was smiling, which meant I was making progress. I’d have her eating out of my hand—or off my cock—in no time. Hopefully.

  I shrugged. “I don’t lie.”

  Ian finished with his customer and joined us. “Do you have any questions? Concerns?”

  “Where should we put our things?” Carly asked.

  “We usually have customers keep personal items in their vehicles, but for this man…” He beamed me a smile. “We can make an exception. Follow me to the break room and I’ll have you lock it up in the employee lockers.”

  He led us into a small kitchen and dining area, taking us to a row of lockers. Carly stuffed her purse in, and I added my wallet and keys. She gripped the hem of her little dress and eyed me skeptically.

  “Babe, you ain’t got nuthin’ I haven’t seen before.”

  She frowned. “Oh yeah. I forgot what a player you are. Thanks for reminding me.”

  Well, that reassurance might have backfired.

  She tugged her dress off, revealing a tank top and bikini bottoms suit that showed just a sliver of her flat stomach. Normally the women I hung out with wore string bikinis that left little to the imagination, but somehow, this was sexier, highlighting her understated beauty.

  Without looking at me, she folded up
her dress and placed it in the locker before closing and locking it. She removed the key and handed it to me, still without eye contact. I clipped the key to my trunks and we followed Ian out of the break room. I closed the gap between me and Carly, leaning over to whisper in her ear, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  Finally, she met my gaze. “I bet you tell all the girls that.”

  “I already told you, I don’t lie. I don’t have time for that shit.”

  “Cool, but you might as well give up. You’re not getting in my pants, Wasp.”

  “Whoa. Who said anything about getting in your pants? You need to slow your roll, chick. I’m not that kind of guy. I’m wholesome.”

  That earned me a chortle. “Yeah, I bet.”

  Trent, who’d been walking beside Ian, turned to look at us like he knew we were up to something. We both smiled at him. He eyed us before turning back around and letting Ian try a life jacket on him. Once we were all fitted with jackets, Ian handed us off to his employee, Mark, who walked us through a quick tutorial and helped us get into the kayak before giving us our paddles and setting us free.

  As we paddled away from the boat launch, Trent was grinning from ear-to-ear. He sat between me and Carly, facing me, dipping his paddle in the water to row one side, then the next. “Is this the right way?” he asked.

  “Yep. Good job, buddy. You keep that up, we’re gonna be flying across the channel.”

  His eyes widened, and he looked from one side of the boat to the next. “Flying? Like an airplane? But there’s no wings.”

  “He’s very literal,” Carly explained.

  “I noticed.” I dipped my own paddle in, propelling us forward. “Flying as in going fast.”

  “Oh.”

  He sounded disappointed that we wouldn’t sprout wings and lift off. “You wanna see how fast we can go?” I asked, feeling the familiar heat warming up my muscles. Ian was right, this was an excellent workout. An hour or so of paddling, and I’d be feeling it for sure.

  “Yes!” Trent shouted. “Faster!”