Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel

by Delaney, Tracie

  Actually, that was wrong. He didn’t just kiss her. As his lips moved slowly over hers, and his tongue explored her mouth, he ruined her for any other man. One kiss from Nate Brook awoke a desperate need within her that only he could quench. She didn’t need heaps of experience to know she was well and truly screwed.

  A soft moan leaked from the back of her throat and, of their own volition, her arms snaked around his neck. Nate responded by tightening his grip and kissing her harder. A thrill sped through her veins as his erection nudged against her stomach, hard and thick and full of promise.

  Then, without warning, he released her. Dex tried to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. Nate’s hooded eyes stared down at her, his face a mixture of wonder and puzzlement.

  “Well, that was unexpected,” he murmured, more to himself than her. Then louder, “Has that persuaded you, Titch?”

  Without waiting for her answer, he left the passenger door wide open and sauntered around the hood, his trademark swagger in full swing. He got in the driver’s side and fired up the engine.

  On legs that felt as if they belonged to someone else, Dex climbed into the car and fastened her seat belt. She risked a glance at Nate out of the corner of her eye. He wore a victorious smile that should have annoyed her. Instead, she found her own lips curving upward. Her chest burned with utter joy, and tingles spread through her hands.

  “You’re a cocky bastard.”

  Nate laughed. “If that’s your way of saying I knew I’d win, then yes, I’m a cocky bastard.”

  “Do you always get your own way?”

  Nate shifted the stick into drive. “Always,” he said, the confirmation accompanied by a wink.

  He pressed the gas pedal, and the car shot forward with a throaty growl. Dex wasn’t sure whether the churning in her stomach was due to Nate’s response or the powerful engine beneath the hood, but it felt like she’d just ridden the first dip on a roller coaster.

  They traveled in silence, but when Nate missed the turning that would lead to Dex’s apartment, she frowned.

  “You’re going in the wrong direction.”

  “Depends on the destination,” he answered cryptically.

  “But my apartment—”

  “Isn’t where we’re headed.”

  Dex swallowed. That could only mean one thing. “We’re going to your place?”

  He nodded. “It’s closer, and I’m not sure I can wait the thirty minutes it’ll take to drive to your place to be inside you.”

  Dex bit down on her lip and closed her eyes, excitement and adrenaline curling her toes. Her heart thumped against her ribcage. Nate Brook, the Nate Brook was taking her to his home, and he couldn’t wait to get her into bed.

  But niggling at the back of her mind, through the misty haze of desire, was one question: what had changed? For six months he’d barely given her a second glance, and yet one screaming banshee moment from her—and a desire to get one over on Bernard from him—and he was hounding her like a dog chasing a bitch in heat.

  It didn’t matter what Nate said to the contrary. His determination to get her job back had nothing to do with benevolence and everything to do with gaining superiority in an unbalanced relationship with his agent.

  So where did that leave her? She couldn’t allow this to continue. Not until she had some answers.

  “Can you stop the car?”

  “It’s not much farther.”

  “Nate, stop the car.”

  He gave her a quick side-eye. “You sick?”

  She shook her head, even though he’d already turned his attention back to the road and wouldn’t see her. “I need a minute.”

  Still the car ate up the miles, the powerful engine making it easy for Nate to weave in and out of the busy Los Angeles traffic.

  “A minute for what? I can’t pull over here, Titch.”

  “Stop the fucking car!”

  That got his attention, although his compliance was accompanied by a heavy, irritated sigh and an exasperated twist to his lips.

  “Okay, okay. Hang on.”

  He checked the right-hand mirror, maneuvered to the inside lane, and then took the next exit off the highway. He turned left at the traffic signal and then right, pulling in front of a liquor store. How apt. She could do with a shot of liquor, because now he’d done as she’d asked, she didn’t know what to say. God, he’d think she was such a child, an innocent, or worse, a cock tease.

  He cut the engine and twisted in his seat, his arm resting across the back of hers, close enough that if she moved her head back a couple of inches, she’d be resting on his forearm.

  “Floor’s yours, Dexter.”

  The full use of her name wasn’t lost on her. He was making his point with a giant sledgehammer slammed into her skull.

  “I-I just need a minute. You’re going too fast. I want…” Her face burned. “I mean… I don’t get it.”

  Nate scratched his cheek, his confusion evident. “Get what?”

  She let out a quiet sigh. “Why you’re interested in me all of a sudden. All those months you came to see Bernard, showing off your cocky swagger as you sauntered down the hallway. You barely even looked at me. I might as well have been a desk, or a chair, or a picture hanging on the wall for all the notice you took. Yet now… now you want to take me back to your apartment and… and…”

  “Fuck you,” Nate helpfully interjected. “That’s what I want to do, Dex. Fuck you until you can’t see straight. Until I’m etched on your body, so no matter who else comes afterward, you’ll never forget the feel of my cock in your pussy.”

  No one had ever spoken to her so crudely, yet instead of being appalled, a flood of heat shot to her core, and… oh God, her panties were wet. She squirmed in her seat, a movement not lost on the much more experienced man sitting beside her.

  “Don’t over think it, Titch. We’re both consenting adults. Both over twenty-one.” He paused, a brief frown flickering across his face as though he hadn’t thought about her age before that moment. “Yes?”

  “I’m twenty-two,” she said, her hoarse voice barely recognizable to her own ears.

  He gave her a crooked smile, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion she couldn’t read. It made him look younger, somehow. Less brittle and hardened by the Hollywood life.

  He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I will accept a no, Dex, but you’ll have to convince me you really mean it. And I don’t think you do. I think you want me as much as I want you. I don’t know why I barely noticed you all these months. Probably because I’m a self-absorbed prick who’s selfish through and through. But here’s a few facts. One, you’ve been on my mind far too often these last few days. Two, I can’t remember the last time I woke up thinking about a woman and went to sleep thinking about the same one. And three, the other night I jacked off in the shower with your image firmly planted in my mind.”

  Dex widened her eyes and forced a swallow past a throat that had decided it might be fun to severely restrict her breathing. But Nate hadn’t finished.

  “Sex comes easy in this town, Dex. I’ve lost count of the amount of pussy I can help myself to any time I choose. But like most things in life, if you don’t have to work for it, then boredom kicks in pretty damn fast. It’s been a long time since I wanted someone as much as I want you. You’re… different.”

  Dex suppressed a wince at how many women Nate must have taken back to his home. How many lovers he must have had. Instead, she went with a teasing grin and a light, “Good, different?”

  He unclipped his belt and shuffled closer. His hand, with those slender fingers she desperately wanted to suck, curved around the back of her neck. She held her breath, anticipating his kiss. He didn’t disappoint. His lips, warm, firm, demanding, closed over hers. Dex knitted her hands into his thick hair, a sound easing from the back of her throat, a raw, hoarse sound full of longing.

  Nate drew back, his chest swelling as he breathed heavily. “Jesus Christ. Y
es, good fucking different. Can we go now, please?”

  An awareness of the power she wielded over this man, this superstar that girls would sell their firstborn to spend an hour with, rushed through her. All of her doubts faded away. She might only get to spend one night in the bed of the man who’d filled her dreams for months on end, ever since she’d started working for Bernard, but she also knew if she walked away right that second, he would curse the missed opportunity as much as she would.

  She’d barely moved her head in assent before he’d fired up the engine. Within two minutes, they were back on the highway. Except this time, he drove with one hand on the wheel and one hand on her thigh, his thumb brushing back and forth, the action both soothing and hot as all hell.

  He’d been telling the truth earlier when he’d said it wasn’t far to his place, because no sooner had they rejoined the highway, Nate was pulling off once more. He drove down a couple of streets, eventually turning into a driveway in front of a cute one-story property with a neatly tended front lawn, colorful flowers in the borders, and a wind chime hanging from a hook over the garage. If she’d had to guess where he lived, she’d have plumped for a sleek, contemporary apartment in a gated community, all steel and glass and hard marble flooring. Definitely not this family-type neighborhood where the house across the street had an abandoned bike with training wheels and a skateboard on the front lawn.

  Nate took her hand and opened the front door. Dex found herself in an open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area, modern but homely at the same time. Dominating the room was a huge corner sofa with cushions mimicking the colors of fall, and behind that, an enormous painting of Santa Monica pier. Nate Brook was full of surprises tonight.

  “Drink?” he asked, opening the large fridge and shoving his shopping bag inside.

  “Whatever you’re having is fine,” Dex said, hoping he produced some form of alcohol. She desperately needed the calming buzz she’d get from it. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  He gave her a lecherous smile. “I sure hope so, sweetheart.”

  Her cheeks burned for the gazillionth time that evening. If she continued blushing at such a rate, she’d faint from lack of blood to the rest of her body. Nate was expert at bringing the wrong type of color to her face.

  “I-I meant the steak,” she stammered.

  Nate unscrewed the top off a couple of beers and handed her one. She took a grateful sip, desperate for something to soothe her dry throat and mouth.

  “I’m not hungry for food right now.” He reached for her hand once more. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Her whole body shuddered with nerves, excitement, a tinge of fear, or maybe apprehension. She meekly followed him into his bedroom. The room was sparsely furnished. Pushed underneath the window was a king-size bed with dark-blue sheets and a mountain of pillows, bookended with a couple of nightstands. Opposite the bed was a five-drawer mahogany dresser with brushed steel handles, three large drawers and then two smaller ones at the top. A couple of closed doors led off the bedroom. One, she guessed, was a closet, the other a bathroom.

  Nate let go of her hand. He wandered over to the window and closed the blinds. Light from the streetlamps outside Nate’s house disappeared, casting the room into darkness. Dex hovered by the door, chewing on a thumbnail as she waited for her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. She blinked when Nate flicked on a lamp beside the bed. His gaze fell on her, and he crooked a finger, beckoning her. She moved toward him. He met her halfway.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he said, as if he could read her mind.

  He gently lifted her hair away from her neck, easing her head to one side to give him unfettered access. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her skin, and then sucked, hard. It almost felt like a branding, and Dex groaned loudly, clasping his biceps for support, her breasts pushed flat to his firm chest as he moved into her. The man was hard everywhere, nowhere more so than the thick rope of his erection flush against her belly.

  He grasped her waist and lifted her, settling her ass on top of his dresser. Now, she was the one looking down on him, his eyes hooded, those ice-blue irises almost eclipsed by his enlarged pupils, full of lust, and want, and need.

  They surely mirrored her own.

  Nate slipped off her teal flats and dropped them on the floor. His hand slipped around the back of her calf, and he slowly massaged the muscle. His fingertips felt like silk on her skin, his touch soft, almost ticklish. He moved upwards and caressed the back of her knee. Then, without warning, he pushed her legs apart. Her skirt rose, mid-thigh level. She suppressed the urge to smooth it back down, to cover her knees, to give herself a few more seconds to prepare for the invasion of Nate’s hot gaze.

  His hands traveled up her legs, bunching her skirt around her hips. His gaze fell to the part where her legs met. She cursed her practical underwear, wishing, for the first time ever, that she was one of those girls who never left the house without wearing coordinating undergarments. A lacy bra and matching thong in a dusky pink or vibrant blue would do a lot more for her confidence than white cotton panties and a black T-shirt bra. Then again, she’d hardly known when she set off for work twelve hours ago that her night would end like this, legs spread, her most private parts almost on display for one of Hollywood’s hottest properties. Things like that didn’t happen to girls like her.

  Nate nudged her legs together and opened the top two drawers. He then carefully wrapped his fingers around her ankles and placed each of her feet into one of the drawers, sole down. The position left her laid bare and vulnerable, and she automatically tried to cover herself with her skirt.

  Nate stopped her and, with a cautionary shake of his head, bunched up her skirt once more. Dex found herself panting—her lungs expanding and contracting at such a rate as to leave her breathless—and the man had barely touched her.

  He stood back, as though examining his handiwork and, with a nod of satisfaction, met her wide-eyed gaze.

  “Do you feel exposed, Dex?”

  She answered instantly. “Yes.”

  He tongued his top teeth. “When you lie in bed at night, do you think of me? Do you touch yourself?”

  Holy shit. How did he know? Her chin dropped to her chest. This time the words wouldn’t come. She hadn’t expected him to… talk. She’d envisaged him undressing her quickly and then himself, and for the act itself to be over rather quickly. And even if it hadn’t been, she’d assumed they’d be writhing on his bed right this second, their sweaty bodies colliding, twisting around one another, the sheets becoming damp beneath them as they fucked.

  “Pull your panties to the side. I want to see.”

  She snapped her head up. “Wh-what?”

  “Your panties. Pull them to the side, Dex.”

  She shook her head. This wasn’t her. If Nate Brook was into some weird voyeuristic shit, then she wasn’t the girl for him. Not even for one night.

  “I-I can’t.”

  A frown flickered across his face. “Why not?”

  Her face burned with embarrassment. “I just can’t. It’s not… it doesn’t feel right.”

  His confusion deepened, and then his eyebrows rose in query. “Please tell me you’re not a virgin.”

  “No, I’m not,” she snapped. Something about his attitude toward innocence irked her, spiking her anger, bringing her back for a moment. Just a moment. “What’s wrong with virgins anyway?”

  He ignored her question. “How many sexual partners have you had, Dex?”

  She went to jump down from the dresser. He stopped her, holding her knees in that wide-open stance, pushing down on them so her feet remained inside the drawers.

  “What business is that of yours?”

  “Because if you were more experienced, me asking to see your pussy wouldn’t have garnered this reaction.”

  When she chewed on her lip instead of responding to him, he let out a soft sigh. In an instant, she found herself standing on the floor in front of him. He brushed his thumb over her l
ips and then pushed the digit into her mouth. The unexpected invasion should have shocked her. Instead, she sucked, drawing a deep groan from Nate. It thrilled her, but at the same time, she had a horrible feeling she’d fucked up her one chance. A man like Nate wouldn’t want a woman who balked at the idea of him looking at her most intimate parts.

  But how did she explain to him the bone-crushing tiredness of trying to keep up with her schoolwork while she worked two jobs after her father died, leaving her mother penniless? How did she tell him that boys had been the very last thing on her agenda? How did she share that since coming to Los Angeles, her every waking thought had been consumed with earning enough money to keep her mother in a nursing home where she had a chance of living out her last days in comfort? The idea of having a man in her life was a luxury she couldn’t afford. That was what was so perfect about this thing with Nate. She could have this one night, a night for her and her alone. Something to keep her warm as she lay alone in the dark, trying to swallow her panic because another bill had arrived that she couldn’t pay.

  He removed his thumb. “How many?”

  She made a growl at the back of her throat, drawing a bark of laughter from him. “Good to see my Dex is still in there somewhere.”

  My Dex? Oh. My. God.

  “Twice,” she mumbled. “I’ve had sex twice. A guy in high school. It wasn’t memorable.”

  His forehead creased. “Only twice?” He chuckled, and whereas she usually found the rare appearance of his dimples cute, this time, she wanted to punch him.

  “Can you take me back to my car?” she said, determined to leave with at least a shred of her dignity intact.

  Nate’s smile fell, and he scratched his cheek, his short, neat fingernails grazing against his stubble. “No.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Stay.”

  Her pulse jolted at that one word. He still wanted her.

  “Why? I can’t do what you want me to. That. I can’t do… that.” She ducked her head, but he wasn’t letting her off that easy. His palm skimmed along her jaw, and then he eased her chin up, his lips twisted into a crooked smile.