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Priceless

Page 20

by Linda Kage

“Of course not. I don’t even—” She paused and her face kind of cleared with a surprised awareness. “Well, I mean...” Her cheeks flushed pink. “I may have hypothetically posed a question similar to that...in his direction.” When I merely arched an eyebrow, she sighed. “I asked how he’d answer if I did ask him. I didn’t actually ask. I just wanted to know if, you know...if anyone else considered me...fuckable.”

  I rubbed my face and growled, “When did you even talk to him to ask this hypothetical question?”

  “We ran into each other when he was on campus this week for his visitation day, or whatever. And he asked why you were being such an ass, so...I told him.”

  “You told him,” I repeated, staring at her and unable to believe what I was hearing. “You just...you seriously told our private business to him?”

  She blinked, pulling back in surprise. Then... “He’s your brother. Besides, he already knew something was up between us anyway. Why wouldn’t I tell him?”

  “Because he’s a pain-in-the-ass kid who needs to stay out of my goddamn private life.”

  “Oh my God,” she yelled, “What is your problem tonight?”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, sniffing because she had to know at least a little why I was so upset. “I just don’t like hearing you’ve been trying to go to other people for sex.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open. “Excuse me?” Her voice was so low as she pressed her hand to her chest that I paused, realizing she was pissed.

  I’d just royally messed up.

  Blue eyes flaring with rage, she drew in a deep breath before snarling, “First of all...”

  Oh, shit. A first-of-all. I was really in trouble.

  “I have not gone to anyone else for sex but you...which you declined, leading me straight to my second point. You didn’t want me, so even if I had gone to fifty other guys after that, it’s none of your concern what I did. If you came here just to be an asshole, you can turn right back around and leave, Brandt Gabriel Gamble. I’m not in the mood for your attitude tonight.”

  Damn, I hated it when she handed me my ass like that. Humbled and ashamed, I pressed my lips tight, knowing I needed to apologize but resisting it because my blood was still roaring with anger. Anger which, yes, was probably unjustified because, like she said, I wouldn’t have any right to object if she had gone to someone else—or even fifty someone elses—for sex.

  Which sucked monkey balls.

  Except there was one thing she’d been wrong about. “I never said I didn’t want you,” I muttered, glancing away.

  After cracking off a sharp laugh, she asked, “Then what was all that I’d do anything for you but that bullshit you fed me last time we saw each other?”

  “The truth,” I answered with all sincerity. “I would do anything for you but that. And I do want you, so fucking bad it hurts. But I’m scared to death of losing you, and us getting naked and kinky together seems like a surefire way to send you packing.”

  “Why?” she shot back. “Are you that bad at it?”

  Oh...oh, she did not just say that.

  The guy in me was totally and completely unable to ignore such a challenge to my manhood. Leaning toward her until our faces were less than a foot apart, I murmured, “I could make you come so hard you’d see stars for a week.”

  But instead of scaring her off, my remark made her lean in too, closing the inches between us. “Prove it.”

  Holy...damn.

  I wanted to. I wanted to so bad. I even swayed in, focusing my entire being on her mouth. A mere breath away from devouring her whole, reality intruded and reined me in.

  I pulled back, rasping, “You know I can’t.”

  “No.” She shook her head, her eyes filling with pain. “Actually I don’t know, because you won’t tell me.” With a shudder, she sank deeper into her robe, clutching it closer to herself. “You say you won’t try this because you’re afraid you might lose me. But sex wouldn’t send me packing. It’s you keeping secrets that will send me packing.”

  Doom landed hard in my stomach, squashing all my rage, all my bitter jealous thoughts, and only leaving me sucked empty with an ice-cold dread.

  “Sarah,” I whispered, afraid I’d just ruined everything, killed our friendship for good, and lost any affection she’d ever felt for me.

  She looked away, and I swear her eyes went glossy with tears. “I think you need to leave,” she choked out.

  “No.” I shook my head, desperate, and reached for her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t!” she snapped, batting my hand away, and in doing so, she had to let go of her grip on the robe, which in return gaped open, giving me an eyeful.

  “Wha...?” My mouth fell open as I took in the red bra fringed in black lace, cupping the most perfect set of tits ever.

  Sarah gasped and pulled the robe closed, once again hiding her body from me.

  For a moment, I didn’t know what to say, what to think. She looked so good, my dick was painfully hard and already dripping out the end. I wanted her with an intensity that made my mouth water and skin tighten as if preparing for an orgasm.

  But then I realized...that was no ordinary, everyday bra. That was a seduction bra, a bra meant to be seen.

  Just who did she want seeing it?

  “What the hell are you wearing?”

  “Nothing,” she muttered, scowling at me but also looking completely guilty and a little humiliated. “Will you please just...go away?”

  I laughed. Hard. While glaring. “Not until you answer my fucking question. Why are you wearing that? Who are you wearing it for?”

  She looked mortified as she shook her head emphatically. “I...no one.”

  “Sarah, don’t fucking lie to me.” I loomed closer. “Who...did you buy that for?” Because I was going to kill the fucker. I didn’t care if I wasn’t supposed to be jealous or wasn’t allowed to be upset if she went to another guy.

  She was mine. End of discussion.

  “Who?”

  “Me!” she growled, shoving me away. “Okay? I went to the store and bought it today for me. I’m not trying to seduce anyone, you big stupid jerk. I just wanted to make myself feel...desirable. Do you not understand that Seth broke something inside me? I don’t...I don’t know...” When more tears filled her eyes, I fisted my hand and set it against my mouth, biting my knuckles to keep from reaching for her. “My entire life, I’ve felt more like an observer than a participant. And when he asked me out, it was like I finally had a chance to live. But then, what happened, happened and it...well...it felt like a big slap of reality, telling me I don’t matter, that I’m not enough, that I—”

  “Stop,” I whispered, unable to hear any more, and feeling like the dick I was being.

  Closing my eyes, I cursed myself for forgetting how much she’d been hurt. When I opened my lashes, Sarah’s face was bowed and her shoulders were curled in protectively. Knifelike pain pierced my abdomen with guilt for making her feel bad.

  “You matter,” I murmured, knowing the next few words I said may just be the most important thing I ever uttered. “I could lose everyone I know and everything I had, and I’d still be able to handle it as long as I still had you. You’re the only person who does matter to me.”

  Slowly, I reached out and covered the hand she was using to hold the robe closed. Then I applied the slightest amount of pressure, cajoling her to let the terrycloth fall open. She looked up at me, her gaze uncertain.

  “Let me see,” I whispered.

  Her throat worked as she swallowed. And then she dropped her hand away.

  The robe parted.

  “Jesus Christ,” I breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Closing my eyes, I groaned and pressed my forehead to hers. “How could you ever think you don’t fucking matter?”

  She shook her head, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “I don’t know.”

  I barely touched her cheek with the tips of my fingers, dashing away the wetness, and she released a breath
before grasping my wrist.

  “Because I need proof. I need undeniable, physical proof. I need—”

  I hushed her by setting my fingers against her lips. In that moment, I was a goner, done fighting it.

  “Okay,” I whispered. “Okay, I’ll give you proof.”

  SARAH

  When the warm, moist fall of Brandt’s breath brushed over my fingertips and he looked at me with eyes that had just given in to temptation, I let go of his wrists to catch the lapels of my robe. And then slowly, staring him straight in the eye, I slid it off my shoulders and down my arms until it pooled around my lap, exposing the top part of my lingerie.

  His pupils dilated and his gaze dropped to my chest. “Jesus.”

  He was so fixated with staring at my body he didn’t seem to notice he’d reached out to trail the backs of two fingers gently down my stomach. I sucked in a breath, and my overheated skin rippled with goose bumps.

  When he glanced up, his eyes were glossy and hooded, full of heat and yearning. Overwhelmed and overjoyed that he was experiencing all that for me, I hooked my hand around the back of his neck and tugged him in. Our lips slammed together. Hard.

  His mouth met mine eagerly, already opening and drawing me in. Fingers sank into my hair and gripped it as he dragged me against him, relieving a portion of the ache in my chest when he pressed it to his own. As our tongues mated, hungry and seeking, he batted the rest of my robe away from my waist so he could curl a hand around my ass, grip and press me forward until I was snug in his lap and his erection hit me right between the legs. I had to break away from the kiss to throw my head back and gasp through the contact. He guided me, grinding me harder.

  A mewling sound left my throat, embarrassing me to no end. Hoping to disguise the sound, I grappled with his shirt, panting, “I need this off.”

  Without a word, he ripped it over his head. But as soon as his sleek, gleaming bare chest was freed, his gaze caught mine, and he paused. Regret and guilt shimmered through his glazed eyes as he shook his head. “Damn, Sarah. What’re we doing—”

  I couldn’t allow him to finish the question, to pollute our moment with doubt, so I kissed him again and shoved him back until his spine hit the wall. His grunt upon impact was full of surprise and arousal.

  I broke the kiss so I could concentrate on undoing the top button of his jeans. For me, it was a feat. But I was determined to be the one to release it. If I couldn’t handle one damn button, then what use was I?

  Brandt seemed to understand my determination because he merely watched with glittering, hungry eyes as I finally managed to flick his jeans open and zip them down. When I reached inside his underwear, I was shocked by the feel of him.

  “It’s so soft.” I wasn’t expecting the skin around the steel shaft to be soft. For something hailed as hard as a rock, I had no idea the surface would feel practically like velvet.

  Brandt began to laugh at my surprise until I tightened my fingers around him and slid my grip all the way down. Then the sound choked off into a groan. “Damn,” he whimpered, fisting his hand down at his side after he started to reach for me only to stop himself. “I don’t know if I can—oh, God, that feels good.” His head fell back, smacking into the wall as he squeezed his eyes closed.

  I grinned, deciding I was doing fine. Wanting to please him more, I leaned down, down...until my face was right there. I drew his length forward, and my eyes widened at how big he actually was. Oh, holy hell. Was all that really supposed to fit into my little ol’—

  “No! Wait. Sarah...” Brandt gripped my hair as his voice went high.

  Determined to make him feel good, I wrapped my lips around the weeping, mushroomed head and sucked him in deeper.

  “Fuck!” He jerked in my mouth, the salty taste of precum coating my tongue. Then he started to drag me off by my hair, but I don’t know if it was the suction I had on him or the way I moved my tongue, but suddenly he pushed me back on, surging his hips forward so that I took more than I was anticipating. “God. Oh, God. That feels—”

  I gagged. Totally didn’t mean to, but I took way more than I’d anticipated, and I had to grab hold of his leg to brace myself.

  “Shit!” he yelled, pulling me off him as if I was biting him instead of gagging. Then he leaped off the bed away from me and clutched his head. “I’m sorry. Oh, fuck, Sarah, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  I took a moment to calm myself before I brushed the hair out of my face and met his concerned, frantic gaze. “Yeah, I’m...” But the word fine stalled in my chest when his face drained of color, and his eyes turned an unnatural shade of stark fear. His shaking hands fumbled to jam his cock back into his pants and zip it up.

  “Are you okay?” I ended up asking.

  He bent at the waist to rest his hands on his knees as he tried to recover his scattered breaths. Finally he gasped, “Yeah, just...bad déjà vu.”

  I frowned, sure I’d misheard him. “Bad what?”

  He froze, stopped breathing entirely while all his muscles seemed to lock into place. Finally, he slowly, carefully lifted his face, where his expression was completely blank. And I knew...just felt it in my bones...he’d said something he hadn’t meant to and totally didn’t want me to know about.

  “Bad what?” I repeated slowly and succinctly so he couldn’t pretend to misunderstand me.

  “Nothing,” he murmured, glancing around the bed before he spotted his shirt. Snagging it, he shrugged it on, his fingers trembling the entire time, quivering more than my own were. “I have to go.”

  “Brandt?” I said.

  He refused to look at me as he blew out a breath and wiped his clothes free of wrinkles. “I shouldn’t have...we never should’ve...” Shaking his head, he turned toward the window. “This was a mistake. I have to go.”

  As he jerked the window up, I pressed my fingers to my lips. This wasn’t like the way he’d fled after our first kiss. He was pale, shaken, unsettled. Scared. What I’d done has triggered something, something bad.

  Needing to apologize, I whispered, “Brandt!”

  But he held up a hand, stopping me. Not facing me, he snapped, “I asked you not to push me, and you fucking pushed. Can you just give me a fucking minute here to clear my head?”

  Shying backward, I hugged myself and nodded. “Okay.”

  He jumped out the window, abandoning me.

  Worried, confused, even a little scared, I stared at the window he’d closed from the outside, shaking like a leaf. Something really, really wrong had just happened. I could feel it in my blood.

  I’d messed up big time.

  Sliding down onto the mattress, I curled my knees up and wept into them, praying I hadn’t just destroyed everything.

  BRANDT

  I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. I went straight home from Sarah’s place, locked myself in my room and paced my floor.

  At first, I panicked, worried as hell that I’d just ruined nine years of friendship. She’d been counting on me to make her feel special, and not like a freak. She’d needed someone to show her the best things that could happen between a man and woman. And I’d failed her majorly.

  And then I went through a mad phase, angry with her for pressing the subject when I’d told her over and over again not to go there with me. Why the hell hadn’t she just fucking listened and trusted it was the worst idea ever? God...dammit. If she’d only dropped the subject the first time I’d tried to give her an out.

  But the anger lasted the shortest amount of time before I was freaking out again, wondering what she’d probably figured out about me. She’d heard what I’d blurted, clear as day, and then asked me if I was okay after she’d seen my face. She knew...she knew something was up, something that had absolutely nothing to do with how desirable I found her.

  I scrubbed my hand over my face, my fingers shaking again, as I kept wearing out the carpet.

  I hadn’t been able to help the memory. But my back had been to the wall, a mouth had been around
my dick, and suddenly I was thirteen again, in that rotted-out trailer house with my mom kneeling in front of me, gagging as she fed her coked-out self too much of my cock.

  “Fuck,” I muttered, fisting my hands and wishing I could beat the memory from my brain, scrub it free with a wire brush, burn it away with gasoline and a lighter.

  Nothing about Sarah reminded me of my mother, so why had I been sucked back to that moment?

  This was why I didn’t allow women to give me blow jobs. I knew it’d drag up stupid unwanted visions. Damn it. Why had I let Sarah—

  Because it had been Sarah, obviously. Like I could tell her no when she’d been wearing that and reaching for my zipper.

  I hissed another curse and paced some more.

  The night passed, I continued to feel crappy, and by the time morning came, I had a fucking headache from hell.

  I collapsed onto my mattress and slept a few fitful hours before dragging my ass out of bed sometime after noon. Glad it was a Sunday, so I didn’t have school and didn’t have to work that night, I shuffled barefoot from my room and down the hall, in search of food.

  “Yes!” a voice shouted as I entered the kitchen, yawning and rubbing the back of my head. I dropped my hand to find Ten popping up from a chair at the table where he’d been sitting to spike his arms into the air in a victorious dance. He spun to Caroline, who was still sitting with Teagan in her lap. “You owe me twenty bucks, woman.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes as she reached for another cookie to let her daughter maul. “Just because it looks as if he had sex all night long doesn’t mean he actually did.”

  “Excuse me?” I frowned at the two of them and opened my mouth to demand what they were even doing here, when Ten pointed at me.

  “Hot Wheels wore that silky black and red number, didn’t she?”

  My jaw dropped. “What the fuck?” How the hell had he known that?

  “Oh my God! Brandt!” Caroline yelled, making Teagan startle and drop her cookie. “You did, you dirty little slut! You really did it. And here, I was so sure you’d resist her seduction attempt. I can’t believe my little brother is so freaking easy.”

 

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