by HELEN HARDT
Bryce’s lips were a gorgeous dark pink, but tonight… I rubbed his bottom lip and then looked at my thumb.
Red.
Red lipstick.
“Marjorie…”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not a cross-dresser, Bryce.”
“Of course not.”
“Then exactly what did I interrupt tonight?”
Not that he owed me any explanation. Just because we shared a kiss to end all kisses twenty-four hours ago. I gulped down the uneasiness in my throat. I had no hold on Bryce Simpson. No hold at all. Yet I felt like he’d been unfaithful to me.
“Nothing. You interrupted nothing.”
“You’re wearing lipstick.”
His cheeks pinked a little, but he offered no explanation.
I certainly wasn’t about to demand one, even though inside I was screaming. How could you? How could you?
None of my business. None of my damned business.
Except that it was. It was because I cared about this man, wanted this man.
Still none of your business, Marj.
I pulled farther away from Bryce so that his arm was no longer around me.
“Marj…”
“It’s okay.” I gulped. “No big deal. You must have been reaching for lip balm and mistakenly picked up your mom’s lipstick. Happens all the time.” I tried to sound serious, but my voice came out pretty curt.
“It’s not my mom’s lipstick.”
Damn! He couldn’t even let me think for a minute that he hadn’t been making out with another woman?
“She meant nothing to me, and I—”
I shook my head, stopping him with a gesture. “Really. I don’t want to know.”
“Nothing happened.”
I yearned to interrogate him, but I stopped myself. None of my business. None of my business.
I dropped my mouth open, feigning surprise. “Really? A kiss obviously happened. That might mean nothing to you, but it doesn’t mean nothing to me.”
“It didn’t mean anything with her. For God’s sake, I left as soon as you called me.”
“I interrupted you?” I held back a huff. “Sorry to cramp your style.”
“You didn’t cramp anything.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Shit. This is coming out all wrong. I’m all wrong.”
“I grew up with three brothers, Bryce. I’m well aware of how men are. You don’t stop at a kiss.”
“What?” He shook his head, his forehead wrinkled. “Your brothers are gentlemen, and so am I. We’d never force—”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Sure as hell sounded like it.”
I’d stepped in it this time, especially considering the type of man Bryce’s father had turned out to be. He had forced men, women, and children, including my own brother. Open mouth, insert foot. I was being a spoiled brat. Spoiled little ranch heiress. I felt like a piece of shit.
Repeat this to yourself, Marjorie. You have no hold on Bryce Simpson. You have no hold on Bryce Simpson. He’s allowed to kiss whomever he wants. He’s allowed to do any…
I couldn’t finish, not even in my head.
Bryce stood. “I need to go.”
Shit. Not at all what I wanted. I inched toward him. “Please, don’t. I don’t want to be alone in this big house tonight.”
“The boys are here.”
“You know what I mean. They’re asleep, and if I’m alone with my thoughts…”
“You’ll worry about Jade. Tal says everything looks good.”
“But what if—”
“Marj, don’t do this to yourself.” He shuddered slightly.
Only slightly, but I noticed. If he hadn’t been with another woman five minutes ago, I’d think he wanted to reach out to me. Hold me like he had been.
“Can’t you stay? We have”—I cleared my throat—“plenty of room, as you well know.”
“I should get home. Henry.”
“He’s with your mom. Plus…”
“Plus what?”
What the hell? We were both thinking it. “Plus…weren’t you planning to spend the night with lipstick woman, anyway? You’d have been out all—”
He pulled me to him, smashing our chests together. “You want to know what lipstick woman was?” He grabbed my hair in his fist and yanked it back, forcing me to meet his gaze. “She was a substitute. A piss-poor substitute at that. A substitute for what I really wanted.”
My heart thundered inside me, the beat radiating out to my fingertips. “Wh-What do you want?”
“You fucking know what I want, baby.”
I closed my eyes, waiting for his kiss.
A kiss that didn’t come.
I opened my eyes.
His own were full of torment.
I couldn’t help myself. I cupped his cheek, letting his sandy stubble scratch my fingertips.
“Damn it, Marjorie,” he said gruffly.
“Take it, then. Take what you want, Bryce.”
Chapter Twelve
Bryce
Take it, then. Take what you want, Bryce.
If I were stronger, her sweet coconut scent wouldn’t entice me.
If I were stronger, her trembling pink lips wouldn’t set my loins on fire.
If I were stronger, those sweet nipples protruding through her tight T-shirt wouldn’t be my undoing.
If I were stronger, I’d do the right thing.
If I were stronger.
If…
I stroked her rosy cheeks, her skin like silk beneath my rough fingertips, and I pulled her face to mine, our lips meeting.
She opened, her smooth tongue melting against my own. She tasted of a hint of lusty red wine, a touch of mint, a sweet sensation that had my senses spinning.
I was going to hell for this. Surely I was going to hell. I had nothing to offer this wonderful woman. I had nothing to offer this baby sister of my best friend.
That last thought should have stopped me. Should have had me breaking the kiss and running toward the door.
But it didn’t.
No.
Nothing would stop me now.
This would happen, and it would be amazing.
Damn the consequences.
Damn the fallout.
Damn everything—everything except Marj and me and this amazing kiss.
Our lips still smashed together, I explored her silky neck with my fingers, and then her lean shoulder and upper arm, lightly brushing the fabric of her short sleeve upward. I trailed down her arm, circling her wrist and then entwining her fingers with mine.
I groaned into her mouth.
This felt so right.
It was wrong, but so right.
With reluctance, I broke the kiss to inhale a necessary breath.
Breathless again.
She always left me breathless.
Then I pressed my lips to her soft cheek, her jawline, the curve of her neck, the soft part of her shoulder that was exposed.
Tonight my lips would explore every inch of Marjorie’s body. Every fucking inch. My cock was hard as a rock in my jeans, and I absently pushed it against her belly, craving more and more of her.
Damn the consequences.
Damn the fallout.
“Bryce.”
Her voice was a soft sigh, a careless whisper in the night.
I groaned again and nipped her neck, not giving a damn if I left a mark.
In fact, wanting to leave a mark.
Yearning to mark her as mine forever.
Damn the consequences.
Damn the fall—
“Auntie Marj?”
I jerked my lips away from her neck and looked up. Donny stood at the top of the small staircase that led to the large family room and bar.
Marj turned toward the little boy quickly. “Hey, sweetie. What are you doing up?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Talon and Joe had told me about the boys and their nightmares. They were coming less and less frequ
ently, and they tormented Dale more often. Tonight, though, apparently little Donny was affected.
Marjorie pulled away from me, not missing a beat. If Donny had noticed what we were doing, he didn’t let on. She took the little boy’s hand and squeezed it. “Let’s get you some water. Then I’ll read you a story. Would you like that?”
He nodded, trotting along at her side.
I drew in a breath, trying to will my cock back to normal size but having no luck. As much as I wanted Donny to sleep peacefully, I was slightly thankful for the interruption. I could fix this mistake I’d been about to make.
As if she’d read my mind, she looked over her well-kissed shoulder, arching her eyebrows. “Make yourself at home. Don’t even think about leaving.”
I sat back down on the couch with a thud. “Now what?”
Leave. You should leave.
Absolutely.
Somehow, though, I stayed glued to the couch.
My head spun a little, though not from the drinks I’d had earlier. They’d long worn off.
No. This was Marjorie Steel’s doing.
The woman made me crazy. I didn’t know up from down when I was with her. And damned if I didn’t enjoy it.
She’s your best friend’s sister.
She’s thirteen years younger than you are.
You remember when she was born.
Pink and yellow unicorns.
You’re a mess, Bryce Simpson.
You have no business getting involved with anyone, especially not Marjorie Steel.
She means something to you.
Don’t hurt her.
Over and over, I played through the myriad reasons Marj and I could never happen. Every single one, and I even invented a few for good measure.
And still I remained glued to the damned couch.
I sighed. Fact was, I wasn’t leaving.
I didn’t want to leave.
“Damn the consequences and damn the fallout,” I said aloud.
I rose and walked up the stairs and into the kitchen where I poured myself a glass of water and downed it. Then I stood, leaning against the granite countertop on the island.
I am not my father.
A mantra I’d repeated since I’d discovered who he truly was.
All the men, women, and children he’d abused…and Tom Simpson had never once laid a hand on me—his only child. He hadn’t abused my mother either, as far as I knew. I felt certain she’d have told me by now if he had.
In a warped way, I’d come out of this smelling like a rose. I was truly lucky.
I felt anything but.
I was determined not to lose myself to self-pity. I had no reason to pity myself. I’d been through nothing. Nothing. Talon Steel had been through everything. That little boy Marj was currently comforting had been through everything.
Me?
Nothing.
Yes. I was the lucky one.
How fucked up was all of this?
My feet seemed glued to the tile floor. No way was I leaving, even though I knew I should. You’re thinking too much, Bryce.
No shit.
I’d done nothing but think since the whole thing with my father went down.
Time to stop thinking.
Take what Marjorie Steel was offering me.
Feel, instead of think, for a change.
I laughed out loud. Had I really intended to fuck a pot-smoking cocktail waitress earlier this evening? Had I really been dense enough to think someone like Heidi could erase Marjorie Steel from my mind? Or at least ease my ache for her?
Sometimes I was so obtuse.
I might have gotten my rocks off, but I’d still want Marj.
My balls might no longer be blue, but that aching emptiness inside me? It would still be there in abundance. Only one woman could ease that ache.
I smiled when Marj walked right past the kitchen to the stairs leading to the family room. She whipped her hands to her hips. “Seriously, Bryce?” she said aloud.
She thought I’d left. I was almost amused.
I cleared my throat loudly.
She turned back toward the kitchen with a jerk.
“Donny okay?” I asked.
She nodded, walking toward me. “Good news, actually. The nightmare wasn’t about his ordeal. He was worried about Jade and the new baby.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m glad you didn’t run off.”
“I probably should have. I’m not sure you know what you’re getting into, little girl.”
“Stop the little girl bullshit. We both know how old I am.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she placed two fingers against my lips.
“If you mention unicorns, I might just knee you in your misters.”
I couldn’t help laughing at that one. In fact, the laugh was damned near boisterous.
I felt good here. I felt good around Marjorie Steel.
And I hadn’t felt this damned good in a long time.
I lowered my lips to hers.
Chapter Thirteen
Marjorie
Those lips. Those wonderful firm and manly lips.
I’d been kissed many times, but Bryce Simpson was in a league of his own.
I hadn’t expected him to still be here once I’d tucked Donny back into bed and read to him. I was certain he’d take the opportunity to run like hell, as he had the previous night.
But he’d stayed this time. And he was kissing me.
Our lips slid together, our tongues twirled, and my knees buckled. Not to worry. Bryce’s strong arms kept me steady as we explored each other’s mouths with ferocious desire.
This was more than a kiss.
So much more.
I wanted to hold on to him forever, kiss him forever. Kiss him until lipstick woman was no longer a memory.
Too soon, he broke the kiss.
I arched my brow and met his gaze.
“What if Donny wakes up again?”
“Then I’ll comfort him again. He already sort of saw us kissing. He knows you. What’s the big deal?”
“It’s just—”
“You’re looking for an excuse again.”
“No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know.” He stepped back awkwardly. “I came over here because you called me. You were upset. I didn’t think—”
“Didn’t think we’d end up making out in the kitchen?”
I laughed a little. “Making out” sounded so juvenile. Like making out in the car as teenagers. I wanted to do a lot more than just make out with Bryce.
“Actually, I figured we’d end up exactly where we are,” he said. “Which is why I shouldn’t have come at all.”
“But you did.”
“Because you were upset, Marj. I didn’t come here to take advantage of you.”
“Who’s taking advantage? I’m giving you the advantage.”
“You’re Joe’s little sister.”
“Yeah, I know.” I rolled my eyes. “And you remember pink and yellow unicorns on my wall. I’ve heard it all before, Bryce. It’s beginning to sound like a broken record.”
“You’re not understanding me. It’s more than just you being Joe’s little sister. Right now I’m just…so messed up in my head.”
“Don’t you think I understand better than anyone else? I’ve been through the same hell you have.”
“Your father might’ve made some mistakes in this lifetime, but he never committed the heinous crimes my father did.”
I wanted to say something, but words eluded me. We both knew what horrible atrocities Bryce’s father had committed not only against my brother but also against countless others.
Finally, I said, “You are not your father, Bryce.”
“I know that. I really do know that.”
“You don’t sound too convinced of it, though.”
“It’s just… I feel like some parts of me are missing. Like I can’t give a woman my whole self right now.”
I understood those words better than he knew. I was
a mess myself. “Bryce, I’m not asking you for a commitment.”
“You don’t understand. You’re Joe’s little sister.”
“There goes the broken record again.”
“What I mean is… I can’t just…have sex with you. It wouldn’t be right.”
“Don’t just have sex with me, then.”
“I’m not up for anything else right now, Marj. I wish I were. Truly, I do. I just don’t have it in me. I may never have it in me.”
“If my brothers can get through this, so can you.”
“Your brothers are three of the strongest men I know.”
“And you don’t think you’re as strong as they are?”
Bryce paced around the kitchen, his hair a mass of sandy-blond waves. “I’d like to think I am. I wish I were.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
He chuckled at that one. “Can’t you tell?”
“Tell you what. Let’s just be two people tonight. We won’t be Marjorie and Bryce. We’ll be two lost souls who come together. We don’t even have to say each other’s names.”
He regarded me then, his gaze scanning my body from top to bottom. My nipples hardened.
“Can you do that?”
“I can do that. The question is, can you stop seeing the little girl who once had yellow unicorns on her wall?”
“God, I want you so fucking much.”
“Then take me. Take what I’m offering. Just for tonight. No names. Just two people who need each other.”
He stepped toward me then, grabbing me. In an instant, his lips were back on mine, this time more feral than before. He thrust his tongue deeply into my mouth, exploring every crevice of it, running it over my teeth, my gums, the inside of my cheeks, all the while twirling it around my own. My skin prickled, and a flaming arrow shot right into my core. My pussy was on fire. Already I could feel the wetness. My nipples ached for him. My whole body ached for him.
And still we kissed.
Our mouths still fused together, I began moving backward, leading him out of the kitchen and down the hallway into my bedroom. He took over the lead, opening the door and pushing me inside, and then he closed the door quietly.
And still we kissed.
I finally pulled away and inhaled a desperate breath. I gazed into Bryce’s blue eyes, and I ached at the pain and sadness I saw in them. If I could take away that pain and sadness for one night, I would. Yes, I wanted this for my own reasons, and I wanted it for much more than one night. But now, this particular time meant even more to me. I wanted to ease his pain, take away everything that had ever hurt him. I touched my palm to his cheek.
