by Whitley Cox
He didn’t let up and continued to use his powerful thighs to drive up and into her, flicking her clit with his fingers and digging painful trenches into her butt cheek with the others. But she didn’t care. She was still riding the high from her orgasm, and everything Adam did to her felt unbelievable.
“Look at yourself,” he panted. “Look at us in the mirrors. You’re so fucking hot.”
She lifted her gaze up to the mirror behind her. Her cheeks held a heavy flush and her eyes were bright. Then she caught the reflection of her back in the mirror on the opposite wall, her ass cheeks on his thighs bobbing up and down, his fingers gripping them, his knuckles white.
“See my cock going in and out of you?”
She squinted, focusing on their reflection and where they were connected. She lifted up on his length and sure enough, there it was. She sank back down and he disappeared. She lifted up again and saw where they connected, where they became one.
“So. Fucking. Hot,” he gritted out. She was mesmerized by their connection, the eroticism of it and how perfectly they fit together.
It wasn’t until her third orgasm, combined with Adam’s release, that she stopped watching their reflection and focused back on the man beneath her, the man inside her.
She whimpered when he pinched her clit and tugged. The harder he pinched, the louder her cries grew, her orgasm seeming to last forever.
She let her forehead fall to his. Their eyes locked as they finally came down from their highs, their breaths mingling as their heart rates returned to rest and the music around them finally came to an end.
“Dance for the arts council,” Adam said, drawing his fingers lightly up her back, causing a shiver to sprint along her spine. The rough and demanding timber of his voice made her whole body stir with need. “I’ll be your partner.”
10
Adam hit the lock button on his key fob, reassured that his SUV was locked by the high-pitched chirp. The evening air held a warmth that spoke of long summer days and the scent of fresh-cut grass and barbecue ahead. He couldn’t wait for summer. He planned to take Mira to the beach as often as he could.
“Hey, DamDam!” A hard, almost too hard whack on his back from behind had him nearly dropping the six-pack of beer in his hand.
“Fuck, Zak. Don’t do that.” He glared at his brother, and not because he’d used Adam’s childhood nickname. Zak hadn’t been able to say Adam when he was learning to talk, so instead he called him Dam and then DamDam after watching an episode of The Flintstones, and it kind of stuck.
Adam’s younger brother, who was by no means his little brother, rolled his eyes and made to swat Adam on the back again, but at the last minute pulled his hand away with a chuckle. “How’s it going?”
He let out an exhale. “Fine, you?”
Zak’s grin was wide. “Never better.”
Adam knew Zak was just putting on a front, as was his brother’s way. Smile and they’ll never know how much you’re hurting on the inside.
Adam fell into line with his brother, the two of them walking up Liam’s long gravel driveway from where they’d parked on the road. “How’re the kids?”
Zak’s broad, muscular shoulder lifted just slightly. “Good. Loni’s being a pain in the ass again. Won’t let me have them on my days.”
Adam stopped mid-stride. “And why the fuck not?”
Zak rolled his dark blue eyes. “Says it’s confusing for them.”
“The fuck it is. You get those kids Sunday through Wednesday. How is that confusing? They’re not infants. They can follow a schedule.”
Zak made a noise in his throat and stretched his thick neck side to side a couple of times until it made a cracking noise. “From your mouth to Loni’s ears. She says she should have them during the week while they’re in school and I should just have them on the weekends.”
“That way she has her weekends free?”
His brother’s smile was tight and forced. “Yep. Seems she’s dating some douche she met on a dating app. Craig. She wants her weekends free to go dancing with Craig. Or wine tasting with Craig. Or to Lopez Island with Craig. Fuck Craig.”
Adam nodded. “Fuck Craig.”
Zak ran his fingers through his thick, shaggy, dark red hair. Besides their matching blue eyes and identical smiles, they hardly looked like brothers. Where Adam had dark coppery-colored hair and olive skin, Zak had red hair and a slightly lighter complexion. He wasn’t ghostly white, and he’d be quick to jump down the throat of anyone who called him a pasty ginger, but he had freckles on his arms and burned a hell of a lot quicker than Adam did when they went to the beach.
Adam shook his head and smiled as they continued on toward Liam’s house. Genes and the way they worked continued to intrigue him. Perhaps that’s why Adam had gone into the work he did. Evolution and the passing on of one’s characteristics both physical and psychological were fascinating.
“You going to fight her on it?” Adam asked his brother, knowing that Zak’s legal battle with Loni had put his brother through the absolute wringer. He loved his children more than anything in the world, and Loni had painted him in a horrific light in front of the judge, claiming that he was a workaholic, a drunk, psychologically abusive to her and the children. It’d made Adam sick to his gut to sit in that courtroom with his brother and hear the lies spewed and vitriol thrown at him. Thankfully, Liam had been able to convince the judge that Zak wasn’t any of those things and had won him shared custody of his children. All while taking the high road—at Zak’s insistence—and not dragging Loni through the mud like her lawyer had done with Zak. Adam’s brother was a stand-up guy through and through, and he hated to see him hurting so much.
“I have to talk to Liam tonight. See if I have a legal leg to stand on. I mean our divorce was through lawyers, and our custody agreement is shared, but we decided on the days we would each have the kids out of court. We kept them flexible to accommodate both our schedules. I work shorter days when I have them, just while they’re in school. Then pull long shifts when they’re with their mother.”
“Sounds like a totally reasonable agreement.”
“I’m also trying to get my fourth gym up and running, so my long shifts are extra long right now.”
“Oh yeah. Have you decided on a location yet?”
“Narrowing it down. There’s a great building near the Frye Art Museum. We’d get a lot of the college traffic, as it’s just down the street from UW. But then there’s also a big space in North Beacon Hill that is promising. And we haven’t really branched out into that area of town yet. Could be a really lucrative location.”
Adam’s brother was a personal trainer, and he owned a small fitness franchise. Though with the way Zak was busting his ass, it wouldn’t be small for long. In just five years he’d gone from having one tiny gym in a sketchy part of town, mostly frequented by meatheads who enjoyed their steroid shot along with their oatmeal in the morning, to three high-end fitness facilities spread out over the city. Club Z Fitness was now not only frequented by meatheads with biceps the size of watermelons, but also Olympians, fitness competitors, politicians, CEOs, housewives and students. He had something for everyone. Classes, equipment, trainers, programs and even a dietitian on site for those who wanted to take it a step further and not only change their body, but their lifestyle.
“Well, you know my vote,” Adam said with a chuckle. “If you’re right near UW, I can come by after work and not drive twenty minutes to your nearest gym. Location, location, location.”
Zak smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
They approached the front door, though neither of them bothered to knock or ring the bell. Zak grabbed the handle in his big, meaty fist and opened it. Adam followed on his heels.
“If you need me to watch Aidan and Tia at all, just let me know,” Adam offered as they made their way down the hallway toward the cacophony of other voices. “I mean my teaching schedule is set in stone, but the hours I’m in the lab are flexib
le. I can work from home.”
Zak slapped him on the back again, this time much more brotherly than douchey. “Thanks. How are you? How’s Mira?”
Adam greeted a few of the other guys with a nod of acknowledgement as he headed into Liam’s enormous, state-of-the-art kitchen and put all but one of his beers in the fridge. He popped it open and took a sip, letting the icy brew slide down his throat. “She’s good. Started dance class a few weeks ago. Is loving it.”
“Yeah? Where?”
“Right downtown. Not too far from your Union Street club. At Benson School of Dance.”
Zak opened up a bag of pretzels from the counter and dumped them into a bowl. “I wonder if Tia would be interested in something like that?”
“You can always come check it out.”
“Ah, I like it,” came a familiar voice behind them. “Spreading the word, drumming up business. Thanks, man. Nothing wrong with free publicity.”
Adam spun around to find Mitch standing there with a six-pack of his own, a big smile on his face. The two shook hands.
“How’s it going?” Adam asked.
Mitch put his beer in the fridge next to Adam’s, keeping one in his hand to drink. “Can’t complain. Though Jayda says she wants to have more playdates with Mira. Been talking about her nonstop.”
Adam smiled. “Mira too.”
Liam rounded the corner, his amber eyes, as always, full of mischief. “Hey, dorks!”
Adam threw him the side-eye. “Always the mature one of the group.”
Liam’s grin grew wide. “But of course.”
Adam, Zak and Mitch made their way into the dining room, which boasted enormous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Washington. Liam, a lawyer, lived in an elite part of town, right on Lake Washington Boulevard. He rubbed shoulders and shared a mailman with the upper echelon of Seattle. The doctors and lawyers, politicians and CEOs. No wonder he charged a pretty penny for his services. His property taxes were probably through the roof.
Most of the other men in their little club were already there, setting up the poker table and pouring drinks from Liam’s swanky leather-top bar.
“You drinking beer or having something harder?” asked Scott, Liam’s younger brother, giving Adam, Mitch and Zak a two-finger salute. “How was your week? Budweiser stressful or three fingers of Macallan 18 stressful?”
“I’m gonna stick with beer for now,” Adam said, grabbing the dark wood case off the side table that housed all of Liam’s poker chips.
“Me too,” Mitch replied.
“I could go for a scotch.” Zak sidled up next to the bar and watched Scott pour him a heavy-handed lowball.
“Been that kind of week, huh?” Scott asked.
Zak took a healthy sip. “You could say that.”
“Not you too,” Emmett, another single father in the group, said with a groan. He did a single head bob at Scott. “Fill ’er up, barkeep. And keep ’em coming. Tiff’s new boy toy is a real piece of work. He’s driving JoJo nuts.”
“Are we seriously that terrible of guys for these women to leave us, cheat on us and then go on to such … losers?” Zak asked. “I mean, I’d like to think I’m a pretty reasonable guy.” He pulled his shirt up a bit to reveal quite the set of abs. Adam rolled his eyes at his brother. Any opportunity Zak had to show off his stomach, he took it. “I mean, I’m not terrible to look at. I own my own company. Stay healthy and active. I’ll go down on a woman for hours and don’t expect a BJ in return. I thought I was a catch.”
Adam snorted and took a seat at the table. “You think that’s all it takes to be a catch? The fact that your tongue doesn’t cramp after sixty minutes?”
“I’m also a good father. I can cook, I respect women, don’t beat them or abuse them, and I keep my pubes trimmed and tidy. I think all that shit does make me a good catch.”
“Ditto,” Scott said dryly, joining them at the table. “I just don’t understand chicks. What do they want from us?”
Adam couldn’t really contribute. His divorce with Paige had been somewhat amicable, and he still had the utmost respect and love for her. He also knew she loved him; she just was no longer in love with him, because at the moment she didn’t even love herself. And he knew she needed to love herself again before she could love anyone else. When their marriage had been good, it’d been really good. But it had also run its course, and now he and his ex-wife were co-parents and friends. It’d taken him six months of therapy to accept that, but now he did, and he was looking toward the future. His brain immediately went to Violet. What was she doing right now? What was she wearing? Was she thinking of him?
“Sometimes I think it might have been easier if I’d been born gay,” Zak said dryly. “Because I know what a dude wants. I’d be the best gay husband.”
“BJs, beer, backrubs and barbecue. We’re easy to please,” Scott quipped.
“Don’t forget butt stuff,” Liam joked, joining them in the dining room, bowls of potato chips in both his hands.
His brother pointed at him and winked, clicking his tongue as you would for a horse. “Right. The five B’s.”
Adam snorted.
Slowly, all the men sat down, stacking their poker chips just the way they liked them and watching as Atlas, one of the newer members and the strong, silent type, shuffled the deck like he was some blackjack dealer down on the Vegas strip.
“You gonna deal or just fuck around?” Liam asked, tipping up his scotch for a healthy sip.
Atlas shot Liam a look that would have made any other man back down, but the two were friends and colleagues, and Atlas didn’t seem to mind Liam’s ribbing. “Waiting for our last player.”
The sound of the front door slamming and the one empty seat next to Emmett told them all that Mark, or Marky Mark as Liam so affectionately called him, was the last to arrive.
“Hey,” Mark said, turning the corner, his cheeks flushed. Did he run up the driveway? “Sorry I’m late.” His lips twisted as if he were trying to hide a smirk. “Tori … uh … ”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re happy and in love and were boning your girlfriend. Shut the fuck up and get your ass in here so we can deal,” Liam said with a grumble, though the bitter edge to his tone could not be mistaken. Liam, their host and founder, did not believe in love, and he would spout his philosophy off to anyone who would listen. “I should consider kicking your asses out once you’re no longer single.”
“Now that wouldn’t be very fair,” Mark said with a laugh, sitting down seconds later at the empty seat next to Adam. “I still like poker night and all the kid-bashing and dad banter. Just because I’m not single now, per se, doesn’t mean I should be punished for it.”
You’ll need to write up some rules or something, bro,” Scott added. “If you’re no longer single, you can no longer mingle.” He chuckled at his own joke, all to the groans and eye-rolls of the other men.
“I don’t like this idea,” Mark said, before turning to face Atlas, Liam’s co-worker and another lawyer at his firm. “Counselor, what’s your opinion?”
Atlas glanced at him, lifted one shoulder, then turned his gaze back to the table. “You can stay as long as you double your buy-in.”
Liam clapped loudly, then rubbed his palms together, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Oh, I like this idea.”
“Fine.” Mark shook his head, reached into his back pocket and tossed another fifty bucks onto the table before running his hand through his messy, dark hair. The man usually looked as if he’d just rolled out of bed—he said it was the style—and although he was irritated with the new rules, his green eyes were bright. Oh, he’d totally just gotten laid
So did you. On Wednesday, but still.
Adam glanced across the table at Mitch. Had Violet told him about Wednesday night? He wasn’t acting any different around Adam, wasn’t treating Adam like the man who’d just defiled his little sister in the middle of her dance studio, but then again, Mitch seemed like a pretty chill guy. Maybe he was oka
y with Adam pursuing his sister.
Mark elbowed Adam and tilted his chin toward Mitch. “New guy?”
Right. Shit. Mark had been away last weekend, so he hadn’t met Mitch yet.
Adam nodded. “Mark, this is Mitch.” He pointed at Mitch, getting the guy’s attention. “Mitch, Mark.” The men shook hands across the table.
“How do you two know each other?” Mark asked, thanking Scott for his beer.
“Our daughters dance together,” Adam said with a smile. “We met over tutus and tights.” He lifted a potato chip to his mouth.
“And you’re dating my sister,” Mitch added.
Adam’s hand paused mid-air, the chip just touching his lip.
Mitch lifted an eyebrow at him in challenge.
All the men around the table went dead silent, staring at the exchange between Adam and Mitch.
Adam swallowed. “Correction: I want to date your sister.”
A lopsided grin slowly slid across Mitch’s face, and he lifted his beer into the air in toast. “Best of luck.”
Phew.
“Break her heart and I’ll break your neck.”
Ah, there it is.
“Well, that was a twist I didn’t see coming,” Liam said with a chuckle. “Thought maybe I’d have to reconsider opening up that boxing ring downstairs and having ourselves a single-dad fight night.”
“As much as I’d love to kick the shit out of you on occasion,” Emmett started, “I work with a lot of children at the hospital and would rather not have to explain a fat lip, black eye or cauliflower ear.”
Mark nodded. “Ditto.”
Liam’s lip curled up in a pout of exaggerated disappointment. “You guys suck.”
“And on that note,” Atlas said, clearing his throat and throwing a top-notch father glare at all the other men around the table, “let’s play some fucking cards.”
