Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel

by Delaney, Tracie

  “I am going to look at your pussy, Dex. In fact, I can’t wait to see it, to taste it. To taste you. And trust me, you’ll want me to. You’ll beg me to.” He lowered his lips to hers in an all-too-brief kiss. “But don’t worry. We’ll work up to that as you so eloquently put it. Tonight, I’ll show you that sex can be memorable, and great sex is unforgettable.”

  She tried to take in his words because it sounded awfully like he was intimating this wouldn’t be their only encounter. Surely not? She’d never keep a man like Nate interested for long.

  She shoved away those negative thoughts. There was no place for them here, tonight. She wanted this. Deserved this. Nate wanted to give it to her, and she was going to take it.

  “Turn around.”

  Nate’s quiet instruction brought her mind back to the present. Without question, she did as he’d asked. The button on her skirt popped, followed by the telltale sound of a zipper. Her skirt fell in a heap at her feet. Nate’s fingers, firm yet light, fluttered over her hips as he gripped the hem of her top. He lifted it over her head. She stood there in her mismatched bra and panties, her body trembling, mind racing with what his next move would be. Thank God I trimmed this morning.

  She jumped when he kissed the back of her thigh at the crease where it met her ass.

  “Easy,” he murmured.

  She glanced over her shoulder. Nate was on his knees, his eyes roving over her body, his cheeks tinged with a hint of redness. He was staring at her as though she was the most delicious thing he’d ever seen, and it was intoxicating.

  His thumbs hooked into her panties. He peeled them down her legs, an unmistakable sigh of appreciation tumbling from his lips as her bare ass was revealed to him.

  “That’s a mighty fine ass, little Dex,” he said. And then he bit down on her left buttock.

  Dex yelped, pain mingling with pleasure turning her thigh muscles to Jell-O, her legs quivering with the effort of holding her up.

  “Put your hands on the dresser. It’ll help support you.”

  He must have noticed her trembling limbs, hence his suggestion. She did as he’d instructed, and when he bit her other butt cheek, her head fell forward, a moan spilling from her lips. His hand slipped between her thighs, and then he pushed a finger inside her. Then a second finger followed.

  “Jesus, you feel good, Titch.” He tapped her on the ankle. “Spread your legs. Wider. Yeah, that’s it.”

  He removed his fingers, then lapped her folds with the flat of his tongue.

  A strangled sounding “Oh,” fell from her lips, a weird noise because she uttered it on an inhale.

  “Okay?” Nate asked, his voice rough and husky.

  She inclined her head—and then he was inside her. His tongue was inside her, sliding back and forth, slick and hot and wet, and just when she thought the waves of pleasure couldn’t get any bigger, he reached between her legs and took her clit with his thumb and forefinger. One hard pinch, and she was coming, coming, so goddamn hard, flashes of white and gold and silver blurring her vision. She closed her eyes and leaned over the dresser, the top half of her body sprawled across the cool wood as Nate’s velvet tongue and talented fingers continued to prolong an orgasm that was nothing like she’d ever managed at her own hands. So quick. She’d climaxed in less than a minute. He was going to think she was so lame.

  “Jesus Christ, so responsive,” he muttered in her ear.

  Her bra snapped open, and he eased the straps down her arms. His hands cupped her breasts, and she arched her back, pushing forward into his hands as he played with her nipples. They hardened and elongated underneath his touch.

  He spun her in his arms, and then his mouth was on hers, their tongues coming together. He tasted sweet, but also slightly musky, and then she realized the flavor was her. The decadence and depravity of it should have grossed her out, but instead, she shivered with desire. She couldn’t get enough of his touch, his body, his mouth. She slid her hands over his chest, down his muscled biceps and tight forearms where they held her so closely.

  He lifted her, so effortlessly, laying her down on the bed. She blinked up at him, watching him strip off his shirt and jeans. He carelessly tossed them into the corner of the room.

  Oh. My. God. I think my eyes just had an orgasm.

  The outline of his erection was visible through his boxers, and he was so hard, the tip had broken free of the waistband. God, he was huge. She might not be a virgin in the technical sense of the word, but the two times she’d had sex hadn’t exactly prepared her for someone of Nate’s size.

  He lay down beside her, his body so lean and tall sprawling out next to her. He explored her naked flesh with his fingertips. Goosebumps sprang up everywhere, pebbling her body.

  He took hold of her hand and placed it over his erection, a low moan falling from his lips as he encouraged her to grip him. With Nate guiding the pace and pressure, she rubbed him through his underwear, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to feel him, bare and oh-so-male.

  She turned onto her side and with her free hand, tugged down his boxers. She took him in her hand, flying solo this time. Nate’s head fell against the pillows, his eyes rolling back, his mouth falling open.

  “Yeah, oh yeah. Harder, Titch. Grip me harder.”

  She followed his instructions, but when she looked down at that blunt head, the skin pulled tight, his slit weeping with evidence of his arousal, she was hit with an overwhelming urge to taste him. She’d never gone down on a guy, but after Nate’s gift to her, she wanted to return the favor.

  She bent her head and, flattening her tongue, licked the tip of his cock. It jerked in response, and Nate rewarded her with a loud hiss, followed by, “Holy fucking shit.”

  And then she pulled him inside her mouth, sucking hard. She couldn’t take him all, but to Nate, it didn’t seem to matter. He threaded his hands through her hair, holding her steady, controlling the angle and the pace but, she noticed, careful not to push her harder than she was ready for.

  His grunts and groans became louder, his breaths shorter, his body slick with sweat as he moved his hips, writhing against her willing mouth. Her excitement increased. What would it taste like when he came in her mouth? She’d already had a brief taste of his weeping tip, but she wanted more. Craved more.

  And then she found herself beneath him, his knees easing her thighs apart, his enormous erection jutting from between his hips. He reached into the nightstand drawer and took out a condom, the rubber stretching as he rolled it down his length.

  “This might sting a bit, Titch,” he said, guiding his tip to her entrance. “Try to relax for me.”

  And then he pushed inside. Not gently. Forcefully. His lean hips thrust once until he was all the way in. Dex’s breath left her lungs on a gasp, and her inner muscles automatically clenched to relieve the burning sensation of Nate’s cock inside her.

  “You weren’t fucking kidding,” she said.

  He chuckled and rested his forearms either side of her head. “Wrap your legs around my waist, Titch. I’m gonna move.”

  And move he did. He fucked the pain and discomfort right out of her until all she could feel was intense pleasure, and the beginnings of a deep ache in her core that was as addictive as any drug. Nate looked down at her, his face flushed, dark eyelashes gracing his cheeks every time he blinked, momentarily hiding those stunning blue irises. Her stomach clenched. Dear God, the man was so beautiful that for a moment, the sight of him brought a rush of hot tears to her eyes.

  He reached between their damp bodies and thrummed her clit as he continued to pummel her insides. The tip of his cock and the tilt of his hips made sure he was on target to hit that deep spot within her every single time. She got no warning of her impending orgasm, shattering, her insides undulating and twisting, her clit burning as Nate pinched the knot of nerves tightly between his thumb and finger.

  His head fell to her shoulder and, after a couple more thrusts, he stilled, mumbling words into her neck, incoherent, y
et raw-sounding and urgent.

  He rolled off her, panting. Dex squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t know why her emotions were so close to the surface, but having sex with Nate had wrung her out, gnarled and tangled her insides as if he’d torn her apart and then put her back together all wrong.

  He sat up and took off the condom. He tied a knot in the end and dropped it beside the bed. For some reason, it had her chuckling. When Nate frowned, she laughed even harder. She felt free, as if someone had lifted a great weight from her shoulders.

  “What’s so funny, Titch?” he asked, his lips curving upward even though confusion reigned in his eyes.

  “Aren’t you going to put that somewhere more suitable?” she said, still giggling like a thirteen-year-old watching her first porn movie with her friends and knowing she was doing something bad. “And are you ever going to tell me why you call me ‘Titch’?”

  Nate snuggled her into his side, pulling a throw over their naked bodies. “‘Titch’ is British slang for someone small in stature. Fits you perfectly.”

  Oh. My. God. Nate Brook has given me a nickname.

  “And,” he continued, “as there’ll be a few more condoms joining that one tonight, I’ll clear up when we’re finished.”

  His meaning wasn’t lost on her. She tilted her head back and looked at him with wide eyes and a slack mouth. Nate grinned down at her, then dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

  “I wouldn’t keep that gorgeous mouth of yours hanging open too long, Titch, otherwise I’ll be tempted to put something in it.”

  His crudeness stunned her into silence, but as her gaze met his twinkling eyes, she began to laugh, until Nate silenced her with a toe-curling kiss.

  It was going to be a long night—and quite possibly, the most exciting one of her life.

  Chapter 6

  Nate slowly eased back the covers. He placed his feet flat on the floor and glanced back at Dex. Her red hair was fanned out over the pillow, both hands clasped beneath her head in mock prayer. Despite the deep ache in his body, not to mention his cock, the damn thing jerked to life just watching her sleep.

  Christ, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked a woman through the night. How many times had he plunged inside her? Four? Five? They’d all blended into one another because no sooner had he come than his cock had stood to attention once more, like a starving dog begging for scraps.

  A few strands of her hair had caught in the corner of her mouth, wafting in the air each time she breathed out. Nate carefully disentangled them, tucking them safely behind her ear. She stirred. He withdrew his hand. Not that he would mind if she woke and then reached for him, but she needed to sleep. He wasn’t being benevolent. He wanted Dex well rested because he planned to keep her right where she was for at least the next few hours. Despite his bruised and tender cock, he hadn’t nearly drunk his fill of her yet.

  He tugged on his discarded boxers and padded into the kitchen. Filling a glass from the faucet, he drank it down in one go and then refilled it. He wandered over to the window. The breeze had picked up, confirming the weather reports of an oncoming storm. Another reason to stay in bed and wait for the bad weather to pass. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend a Sunday than buried inside Dex, with her warm, pliant body moving against his as she made those delicious sounds while he pounded into her.

  Dex… what a fucking surprise she’d turned out to be. For a brief moment last night, he’d thought she was going to run. And he’d have had no choice but to stop her, because there was something different about this pint-sized little fireball that set his insides ablaze. He wasn’t about to let someone go who could make him feel. Nate had stopped allowing himself to feel seven years ago. Some things were too painful to keep poking at with a rusty blade.

  He was about to go back to bed when his phone buzzed. Irritated, he snatched it off the kitchen counter, but when he saw the sender of the text, his heart made a dash for his feet. He didn’t need to swipe the screen to know what the message would say.

  Four weeks, Nate. And don’t even think about bailing.

  Yep. As suspected. Every week the text came, like a fucking countdown clock. Ever since Jax had phoned him a few months earlier with the news that he and Indie were finally getting hitched, and Nate’s response had been less than enthusiastic, the weekly texts had started. Now, don’t get him wrong, he was happy for his brother. Fucking ecstatic, truth be told. Jax was one of the good guys. He deserved happiness. But Nate hated returning to New York. Everything that had been good about his childhood, despite the gruesome death of his parents when he was twelve, had turned to shit with the discovery of that letter.

  But the cross was his to bear. His, and his alone. He had a lot of faults, a whole damned lot, but to destroy his brothers the way he’d been destroyed… not even self-absorbed Nate Brook would be that cruel.

  It was followed up by another text. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

  Goddamn Jax and his fucking emotional blackmail. Jax was the one brother Nate found it impossible to say no to. It had been Jax who’d stayed up with Nate through the night as he’d mourned their mother and, to a lesser extent, his father. Jax who’d brushed away his tears and tenderly kissed his forehead. Jax who’d climbed in beside him, gently rocking him until he’d fallen asleep, his cheeks still wet with grief. There was no good time to lose a parent. All his brothers had suffered immeasurably, but to lose your anchors at the tender age of twelve was a fucking bitch.

  With a resigned sigh, he tossed his phone to one side. Five days. He could survive that long in New York without wanting to rip his heart out, along with everyone else’s. See, that was the problem with betrayal… once it had gotten its claws buried deep, it was virtually impossible to disentangle without causing serious damage to some very vital organs.

  He took his glass of water back into the bedroom. Dawn had broken, the yellow light from the sun lancing through the gaps in the blinds. Dex had turned over, buried herself inside the comforter so the only thing visible was the top of her head. Nate sat beside her, the mattress moving under his weight. Dex gave a soft sigh and burrowed farther into the bed.

  An idea pricked at the back of his mind, inching forward as he watched her sleep. Maybe New York wouldn’t be so bad if he had a companion. Someone who could distract him with her captivating body and her keen mind, not to mention her sharp wit.

  Except if he mentioned it too early, she’d refuse. He didn’t know how he had come to that conclusion, but his instincts weren’t usually far off the mark. He needed to demonstrate that he wanted to get to know her, which wasn’t a lie, and let her see a little of him. Not too much, though. Not enough that he risked letting the wrong thing slip when doped up on her sweet pussy.

  She stirred and drowsily lifted her head. She blinked a couple of times and then rubbed her eyes.

  “Morning,” Nate said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead, the kind of intimacy he’d never afforded any of his other bedmates. Yeah, yeah. He’d noticed he was being different with this one. But Dex looked so petite, so fragile, so fucking gorgeous lying there with her tousled hair and flushed face that he hadn’t been able to resist showing her a little tenderness.

  “What time is it?” she said, stretching. The covers slipped, revealing her pert tits and rose-tipped nipples, the areolae pebbled from the cool air blowing through the AC unit overhead.

  Nate bent over and sucked one hard nub into his mouth. Dex groaned and clasped the back of his head, urging him to suck harder. He grazed the tip with his teeth, not enough to cause too much pain but enough to make her gasp.

  “Jesus, good morning to you, too,” she breathed.

  He smiled against her skin and then raised his head. “Half after six.”

  Another groan, this one not steeped in desire. She turned on to her stomach, burying her head in the pillow. “It’s Sunday.” The sound came out muffled, widening his grin. She was adorable: funny and sweet, and deliciously diffe
rent. He rarely allowed women to stay the night, but on the odd occasion he had, after a quick—and usually unsatisfactory—morning fuck, he couldn’t wait to see them on their way.

  With Dex, he wanted the exact opposite. Not the morning fuck part, obviously, because that was non-negotiable. But the part about wanting her to leave? Yeah, not happening. Not for a good few hours.

  He tugged at the covers, but she held on, her fingers curled tightly around them. Guess Dex wasn’t a morning person. Nate gave a yank, and the covers came away easily, revealing her nakedness. He slapped her ass. She squealed and flipped over, hitting him with a stern glare.

  “That stung.”

  “But you want more, don’t you, little Dex?” He burrowed into her neck, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses. He nipped along her collarbone, inching farther down, his fingertips gently brushing her waist as he sucked on her tits, left, right, left again. Starved for her, this woman he barely knew, he devoured her, his cock thickening and lengthening when she made those adorable keening sounds and writhed beneath him.

  “Oh yeah.” She breathed the words in his ear. “I definitely want more.”

  * * *

  Nate’s eyes sprang open to a room drenched in daylight—and an empty bed. He leaped up, not bothering with his boxers this time, and dashed into the kitchen. He suppressed an enormous sigh of relief as he spotted Dex, dressed in one of his shirts that almost reached her knees, beating eggs in a bowl. His cock stirred to life—again—at the sight of her ass wiggling beneath the cotton.

  “Plenty of salt in mine.”

  She jumped and spun around, the bowl tucked into the crook of her arm, yellow liquid dripping from the fork she held in midair.

  “Salt is bad for you,” she said, waggling the piece of silverware at him. “And you scared me.”

  He wandered over to her, his erection jutting forward as if it was as desperate to reach her as he was. Her gaze fell south, and her tongue dampened her lips. Well, fuck if that didn’t make him harder. He removed the bowl from her hands and set it down beside her. He snaked his arms around her waist. When she tipped her head back, he bent down for a kiss.