Love Triangle: Six Books of Torn Desire

by Willow Winters

  My heart races. “Would it be different if my relationship was with someone else? If that man wasn’t your brother?”

  He lifts a shoulder, and then he looks over at me and shakes his head sadly. “No. The end result is the same. It’s not me.”

  Our eyes meet for a searing moment. His eyes blaze into mine. He wants me, wants this—right here in the back of his car, and I want it, too. I want to be sitting like we were as we traveled down the Strip, like we were today before I pushed him away. I want him close. I want to smell him, to radiate in his warmth, to feel him in my orbit.

  But there’s a line between us—a clear, forbidden divider that would be immoral to cross, no matter how right it feels.

  Now I’m the one looking out the window. It’s hard to concentrate with his green eyes pinning me to my seat. I think back to Jill’s words—when he looks at you with those green eyes, you do anything he asks.

  I’m just not sure what he’s asking, and I’m not sure whether to go with my gut and believe that he’s being sincere or go with what my boyfriend told me about him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  We stay on our separate sides of the car for the rest of the ride back to Vegas, but things have definitely changed. If nothing else, I feel a little closer to him. The ride was full of ups and downs—we went from laughing together over Snapchat to me yelling at him for showing up at my parents’ house. It’s like a reflection of what a life together might be like, a rollercoaster halfway between terrifying and thrilling.

  Except I’ll never know what a life together would be like. That thought hurts my heart more than I care to admit.

  The closer we get to Vegas, the wider the wedge between us grows. We both grow quiet, lost in our thoughts. It’s the elephant in the room, the name we keep pretending doesn’t exist. But it does exist, and he’ll be waiting for me back at Mark’s place.

  The Strip lies ahead of us, a beacon in the distance. I catch a glimpse of Mandalay Bay on the left and follow the line all the way to the Stratosphere on the right. It looks tiny from this distance, but I know we’ll be there in less than twenty minutes.

  Mark presses a button. “Call up Vinny and tell him to pull into the gas station at the next exit.”

  “Yes sir,” comes the voice from the driver’s seat.

  I glance over at Mark.

  “If you want to switch cars, this is the place to do it.” He stares straight ahead as he speaks, as if it’s painful for him to say the words.

  “If I want to? Mark, it doesn’t matter if I want to. I have to.”

  He finally turns toward me. “You think it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters.”

  I break our eye contact and return my gaze out the window without another word. We get to the gas station, and I get out of the car, each step I take pushing me further from Mark and closer to Brian.

  Even if Brian’s claims about his brother aren’t true, this is still the right decision. No matter how I look at it, Mark would be a risk. Brian’s a sure thing. I may live in Vegas, but my heart is too valuable a currency to gamble with.

  I trudge toward my car. Vinny parked it in front of a pump, and he’s standing just outside the driver’s door. “Want me to fill it?” he asks as I approach.

  “I’ve got it,” I say.

  He nods once, and I walk over and slide in my credit card. I fill the tank, and just after I pull the receipt from the printer, my skin erupts in goosebumps and then I’m forced up against my car. I grunt, half in fear and half in pleasure. I know it’s Mark before I even make eye contact.

  His body presses me to my car, his erection pushing into my hip. He leans down and nuzzles my neck, and my body vibrates. A soft purr escapes me when his lips press to my skin, and then he’s nipping his way up to my lips and I’m lost.

  He opens his mouth to mine, and when his tongue finds mine, the throb that’s been pulsing between my legs since I first spotted the Yukon outside my childhood home turns into a fierce ache.

  My senses come alive in his arms. His fresh laundry and sandalwood scent envelops me as peppermint caresses my taste buds. My hand moves up to palm his cheek. The stubble outlining his jaw prickles under my hand and his soft moan fills my ears. My arms tighten around his middle. His body boxing me against my own car is both comforting and petrifying.

  I kiss him back, pouring everything I have into this kiss, ten years’ worth of a crush and two months’ worth of dizzying lust.

  He breaks our kiss and rests his forehead to mine for one beat that’s cut way too short. “Tell me this is what you want.”

  “I do, Mark,” I say, my eyes on his chest rather than gazing into his penetrating ones. If I look up at him, I’ll change my mind. I’ll do anything he wants me to do. I gather the material of his shirt covering his chest into my two fists. “Of course I do.” My voice breaks. “But I can’t.”

  His hands come up to cover mine over his shirt, and he holds on for a moment. I don’t know if he’s looking at the connection of our hands or if he’s looking down at my face.

  If he’s looking at my face, surely he sees the pain and indecision there. I’m trying hard to be strong here, to do what’s right—because even if I wanted this, even if I thought this could last past just one more night, I still have another man to consider.

  Another man who’s waiting for me at Mark’s penthouse on the forty-seventh floor of the Mandarin Oriental.

  I let go of his shirt and slide out from beneath his grasp, and then I get into my car and drive toward the Strip…toward my boyfriend, even as my tongue tastes of another man.

  * * *

  I text Brian after I drop my car off at valet.

  Me: I’m here.

  I feel like I should say something more personal—missed you, can’t wait to see you…something along those lines, but I don’t because my thoughts are so thoroughly scattered.

  Brian: Be right down.

  As I wait for him, my thoughts drift to Mark as they always do. Will he show up here? Will he wait a bit? Will he tell Brian we were together today?

  I don’t know the answer to any of those questions, and I feel like I’m playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. I’m stuck in the middle between two brothers who are very different people. On the one hand, I have Brian, the responsible businessman who makes me feel adored, who will provide me with a safe, if predictable, and secure future. On the other hand, I have Mark, the womanizing rock star who ignites my passion but is a total and complete risk.

  I believe Mark is being sincere with me. That first night, he told me things he’s never told anyone else. Every time he’s kissed me, my feelings deepen. Every time I see him, my heart binds closer to his.

  But the same can be said for his brother, too, and I don’t have any idea what the right answer here is.

  The elevator doors open. Brian is looking down at the ground when the doors start to open, but his eyes lift to mine. Can he tell I kissed another man—his brother? Can he somehow read that I’ve betrayed him even though Mark was the one who kissed me…multiple times since he’s been gone?

  I should’ve told him from the start. I should’ve been honest about the fact that I had a one-night stand with his brother before I even met him, but now it’s too late. I can’t just admit it now; too much time has passed.

  “Hey,” Brian says softly as he steps off the elevator. I rush to him, because despite everything, I did miss him. I do have strong feelings for him…I do love him.

  He wraps his arms around me and his lips find mine. Can he taste his brother there? Can he smell the soft sandalwood on my skin?

  “God, I missed you so much,” he breathes against my mouth. He lowers his head to the crook of my neck as his arms tighten around me.

  “I missed you, too,” I murmur.

  “Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”

  I shrug. “I could eat.”

  “You’ll need the fuel for what I have planned.” He shoots me a wicked, panty-melting grin.
>
  “What, exactly, do you have planned?”

  “You’ll see.” He smiles again then grabs my hand and pulls me through the lobby and up some stairs toward a bistro.

  We’re taken care of despite the line out front. The hostess refers to Brian as Mr. Fox when she sees him, and she leads us directly to an open booth overlooking the Strip. Brian orders us a bottle of wine and I look over the menu while we wait for it to arrive.

  “How was your flight home?” I ask once I’ve decided what I want to eat.

  “Fine. I worked through most of it.” His eyes remain on his menu. “How was your car ride?”

  Incredible. Confusing. Heartbreaking. “Fine.”

  “Long ride?” he asks.

  “It seemed like it went faster than normal today.”

  “Good music selection?”

  I think back to Mark’s serenade as guilt stabs at my abdomen. “The best.”

  He closes his menu and sets it on the table. “What else did I miss while I was gone?”

  I shrug. “Nothing exciting.” Except your brother kissed me and I think I might be in love with both of you.

  None of the lines I’ve crossed with Mark have been my fault. While I admittedly didn’t stop them, he’s the one who kissed me first. He’s the one who obtained my phone number, and he’s the one who showed up in Phoenix uninvited and kidnapped me for five hours.

  I suppose I could’ve put up a bigger fight, and that’s on me—that’s my fault, and that’s where my guilt stems from. That and the little omission that I’ve slept with Mark.

  We order our meals and chat about nothing important as I do my best to focus on the man in front of me while I simultaneously push Mark further from my mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  As soon as we’re done eating, we leave. Brian didn’t pay the bill, but if they know him, they know where he lives and will figure out how to get their payment. The bottle of wine was left half full on the table. Money is no object.

  We’re not alone on the elevator. A couple gets off on a floor a few down from ours, but when the doors close behind them, we’re sealed in alone.

  Brian doesn’t waste a second.

  He’s on me in a flash, his mouth hot on mine, his tongue moving against my own as his fingers move down to grab me between my legs. I do the same to him, cupping him through his pants, finding his erection and fisting it as best I can through his slacks.

  My insides burn as the ache his brother started blisters in my core. The pressure of his fingers is just enough to give me a preview without giving anything away, but I want it—need it. I crave it.

  I ignore the corner of my brain that’s questioning whether it’s him I’m craving.

  The elevator doors open to our floor, and we almost miss it. The doors start to close, but we’re so intent on lip to lip, body to body, exploring fingers that we nearly get stuck for another ride. Just before the doors close, Brian sticks his leg through and the doors pop back open. He pulls me the short distance from the elevator to door 4701, barely allowing his lips to leave mine.

  I think for a second what this would look like if Mark was here in the hallway. This isn’t something I’d want him to see—but it’s completely natural at the same time, a girlfriend greeting her boyfriend who has been out of town for a few days. I shouldn’t feel guilty kissing Brian.

  So why do I?

  I take a step out of Brian’s orbit as he unlocks the door. The condo is empty when we walk in, and I can’t help the relief that spasms right in the middle of my chest.

  Brian leads me through the space toward his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind us. I’m suddenly thankful for the soundproof walls in here—not because I care if someone’s on the other side of the door making noise, but because I don’t want anyone to hear what’s going on in here. Specifically Mark.

  Just like in the elevator, no time is wasted. Brian grabs for me, roughly yanking my shirt over my head and tossing it on the floor while he simultaneously kicks off his shoes. My shoes come off next, followed by his shirt. I allow my fingertips to run over the cuts of muscle I missed while he was gone, and then I lean forward and run my tongue across his abdomen while my hand trails lower to grip him again. He leans his head back and growls, and then he pulls me up and makes quick work of getting me out of my jeans and panties before taking care of his own pants.

  He kneels on the floor once we’re both naked with his mouth between my legs. He grabs onto my hips and positions my body over his face, and then his tongue swipes through my heat. I grip onto his hair because the pleasure is too much, too quick, and I feel like I might fall over from it if I don’t hold onto something.

  I let out an erotic moan, a sound low and needy to my own ears. His tongue enters me first, then his fingers join in. I want to touch him, to hold him in my hand while he does this, but the pleasure is so fierce that I can’t even think straight. I grind down onto his face as he fucks me with his tongue, and then I glance down at him and watch as he strokes himself with his free hand.

  He groans into me, and the vibration of the sound sends me into my first orgasm of the night. I keep my eyes on him as my body contracts around his tongue and his fingers, watching as his strokes become faster, more furious. As soon as my body calms enough for me to take control, I do.

  I kneel and set my hand over his that’s still working up and down. “Let me.”

  His eyes meet mine, then he lets go of himself before he stands. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He stands above me, fierce and foreboding, and my body still aches for him, aches for more.

  I grab hold of him and suck him into my mouth, and his hands find the back of my head. He pushes my face onto him, forcing me to take him deeper than is comfortable, but I do it because I want to please him in the same way he just pleased me. Part of me wishes this was sweeter, gentler after being apart, but the other part of me loves the carnality of it.

  “Oh my God,” he groans, and then he pulls out of my mouth and grabs himself again to finish the job all over my naked chest.

  He stares down at me as he pants. His eyes flash with lust, and I get the feeling he’s not done yet. He steps away and comes back with a wet towel. He wipes my chest clean, and then he helps me up from my position on the floor.

  “Shower with me,” he says, and I nod.

  He sets the water hotter than I usually like it, and steam rises all around us. He soaps me up and runs his hands along my soapy breasts. His hands slip across my body, stopping to tweak a nipple. He bends to kiss me while he holds my nipple in his grip, and I groan into him. I need more of him—I need all of him.

  He turns me around and pushes my back lightly so I bend at the hips, and then he slides a long finger into me. I moan at the feel of it, and then his finger is quickly replaced with something much bigger. I grunt at the intrusion, but then he starts driving his hips against me and I’m lost again in the pleasure. I want to kiss him, want to feel the intimacy, but he’s fucking me hard from behind in the shower. He’ll snuggle with me in the bed when we’re done. He’ll kiss me later. For now, it’s all need and aches and pleasure.

  He hammers away at me, pushing my body closer and closer to release. I feel his body swell inside of me before he lets out a series of moans, and then he slips out of me.

  He inserts his finger again and thrusts it in and out, hooking it up to hit that spot inside so few have ever hit, and then he pulls his fingers out and rubs me until I fall into another shattering orgasm.

  * * *

  A whispered curse somewhere next to me pulls me out of a deep sleep.

  “Fuck.”

  I turn over and squint. Brian’s cell phone lights his face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  “Something’s fucked up with the deal I just made with Germany. I need to go to the office.”

  I sit up in bed. I’m naked, I realize, so I grab the sheet and pull it up over my chest. “Right now?” I squint over at the clock. It’s a
little after midnight. We’ve only been asleep an hour or two at most.

  “Yeah.” He leans over to kiss me. “Right now.”

  I sort of expected an apology. I realize it’s not his fault, but it seems like human nature to apologize when you’ve woken someone in the middle of the night with a curse word—or when someone ditches you after giving you two orgasms in one night.

  I lie back down and feign sleep. I’m sure he doesn’t want me here if his brother is just down the hall, but I’m not driving home after someone woke me in the middle of the night, not to mention the glasses of wine I had—even if I drank the wine several hours ago.

  “Reese?” he asks softly a few minutes later. I think I might’ve fallen back asleep in the couple minutes he took to get dressed.

  “Hmm?” I murmur.

  There’s a pause, then Brian’s voice comes back in a whisper. “Get some sleep.”

  I fall back asleep only to be woken what seems like five minutes later.

  A mouth presses tenderly to mine as a body covers me. The weight presses on me, but it’s a good feeling—a warm feeling. A loving, gentle feeling.

  He’s back, and he’s treating me so differently than he did just a few hours ago. Fingertips sweep some hair away from my forehead, and then the mouth on mine opens. I’m still in the groggy state of half-sleepiness, but when his minty tongue starts to slide against mine with leisure, with such a different and hot passion, my body starts to awaken.

  I wrap my arms around him with a soft moan. He’s leaner than he was a few hours ago.

  And that’s when I catch the distinct scent of fresh laundry mixed with sandalwood.

  I pull back instantly. I should’ve known immediately. Brian isn’t this gentle with me.