Falter: The Nash Brothers, Book Four

by Aarons, Carrie

  Ryan bites her lip, and I wonder if she thinks I’m a monster.

  But, I continue. “When I finally got sober, they tell you in AA that you’re not supposed to start a romantic relationship during your first year in the program. The focus is supposed to be on recovery, not a relationship. So I followed the rules, to the letter. I cleaned up my life, made amends to my family and those I’d hurt, started showing up for work and saving my money. And then … I don’t know. I just kind of let that no romance rule bleed into the second year, and then the third. I figured that eventually, if I was into someone enough, I’d break the dry spell. But that person never came, or maybe I just wasn’t open to it. I focused on my family, my job, and my dream of turning all of this into a full-time gig.”

  When I finish, she’s looking at me with a curious expression on her face. “So, when you mean dry spell … you mean, you haven’t …”

  “I haven’t had sex in five years.” I nod, fully aware of how pathetic that sounds.

  What she does next right about bowls me over.

  Ryan steps into my space, presses her palms to my cheeks, and pulls me in for a kiss. As if it’s a Pavlovian response, my hands seek her hips, pulling our bodies as close together as they can be and then running up the length of her slim torso. I feel her shiver, and I walk us backward until I can lean against my workbench, the hottest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on pressed up against me.

  “You are captivating …” I whisper into her mouth, seconds before our tongues meet.

  Ryan purrs with delight as our mouths dance. You can kiss anyone, it’s just an action that most grown adults are practiced at. But for it to matter, for there to be passion, the person on the other end has to incite wonder in you.

  And that’s what this woman does for me.

  I’m about to let my hand wander under her shirt, chancing my luck to see if I can move us any further, when Ryan bypasses all the bases and sinks to her knees.

  “What are you—”

  The words that come out of my mouth are hoarse and cut off when she deftly unbuckles my belt, unbuttons my shorts, and pulls down my zipper.

  “Holy fuck,” I murmur, just the sight of her before me enough to have my dick ramrod straight in two seconds flat.

  Ryan’s long lashes sweep up, those whiskey-colored eyes intoxicating to me. There is a bit of a devilish smile twinkling in them, and I’m seeing the temptress side of her. Everything about this woman is arresting, and now that I see her in the midst of her sexual prime …

  I can see why men fall at her feet.

  She keeps her eyes glued to mine as she pushes my shorts past my hips and then reaches into my boxers. The second her fist grips me, I feel my knees buckle. It’s been so long since someone other than my right hand grasped my cock, and the feel of her silky smooth fingers is enough pressure to make me come.

  “Ry—” I want to tell her I’m not going to last even another ten seconds, but before I can get the words out, she tests out her grip and pumps a small stroke.

  Her eyes go wide as they take my dick in, the length of me swollen and ruddy. The muscles in it twitch and make my appendage bob … it’s probably damn excited it’s getting some attention after all this time.

  “Wow,” Ryan deadpans, and I have to puff out my chest a little.

  Yes, back when I used to get action on the regular, I did have a little reputation. Or a big reputation, I should say.

  “I mean …” She trails off again, bringing her hand up to rub across her jaw.

  “You’re killing me, Ryan.” My eyes go skyward, because I’m about to pass out with how hard my heart is beating. “If you don’t want to, I didn’t bring you here thinking anything would—”

  “You haven’t been with a woman in five years, Fletcher. I think you’re way overdue for a good blow job.”

  I swear, I could blow my load just from her words alone.

  When she wraps those plump red lips around my cock, though … sweet lord have mercy. I might just die on the spot. Go into heart failure from the single greatest sensation I’ve felt in my entire life.

  Ryan bobs up and down, sucking and pumping in a rhythm that makes my ears start to ring. I feel like I might fall over, and I’m trying to count to ten or tighten my ass cheeks to keep from coming too soon. I’ll be mighty embarrassed if I can’t last more than ten seconds.

  But then she pulls me out of her mouth and runs her tongue along the underside of my shaft while kneading my balls in her other hand, and I know I’m a goner.

  The minute she swallows me again, my cock halfway down her throat, I make a garbled attempt to tap her on the shoulder.

  “Ryan, I’m going to, fuck … I can’t … fuck …”

  It feels like my whole body is exploding as I empty into her mouth, this woman just patiently taking my come instead of moving to the side to jack me off. Euphoria runs through my veins, and I have to white-knuckle grip the table behind me to keep from collapsing. The goddess before me has completely undone me, mind, body, and soul.

  She can’t know how wholly she just blew my mind. What she did was selfless, it showed care for me in a way not many others did. Some might laugh at that assumption, because she’d just sucked me off, but it was, in fact, a significant gesture. She felt serious enough about me to take care of me, to give me something I’ve been depriving myself of.

  And I was serious enough about her to let her do it.

  Ryan stands, a cocky smile on her face, and I grab her, pressing my lips to hers. It might be a shock because she goes rigid for a minute. The thought that she’s probably been with assholes who won’t kiss her after a blow job crosses my mind. But I’m not that guy, and she just made me feel incredible. I want to thank her for it.

  “That was not a nice blow job,” I choke into her hair, still unable to feel most of my extremities.

  “Way to make a girl feel good.” I can feel her pout against my neck.

  Air still evades me. “That was fucking spectacular. World ending.”

  Ryan pulls back, grinning from ear to ear. “Now that’s more like it.”

  21

  Fletcher

  Molly gurgles as I bounce her gently on my knee.

  “Her neck is so freaking strong, dude. Look at her holding it up,” Bowen tells me this as if I know when babies are supposed to do this.

  But he looks so proud, I nod. “Yeah, man, she’s the most advanced baby in the game. Aren’t you, little fart machine?”

  My niece cracks a half smile, one of those adorable baby almost-grins, as she lets out a massive fart in my lap.

  “Holy crap … literally.” I have to hold my breath, because it smells like a bomb just dropped in Bowen’s living room.

  “Ah, man, we might have an explosion.” He quickly takes the baby from me and carts her off upstairs to deal with whatever is in her diaper.

  I lean back on Bowen and Lily’s couch, looking around the house that my brother used to live in alone, but has now given design control of to his wife. Their house is what I’d want, if and when I settle down. It’s all neutral colors and comfy furniture, with pictures of the family everywhere. Presley and Keaton’s house is a little more whimsical, what with her taste in eclectic art … and Fletcher and Penelope’s house is a mix of turquoise and yellow, with more pops of color. I feel like I’m on a funhouse ride in their house, but they love it.

  My big brother comes back downstairs, Molly in his arms, sucking on her pacifier.

  “Never thought I’d get satisfaction out of counting another person’s shits for a day, but I guess that’s fatherhood.” His smile is dreamy when he looks down at his daughter.

  “Do you like taking care of her when Lily isn’t around?”

  The girls are having a ladies’ night tonight, leaving all the men at home. Ryan had joined them; I think they were going to the Goat for drinks.

  “Hell, yeah. It’s fun. And it makes me feel useful, being able to care for her all on my own. Plus, makes me look like
a badass to the wife. Then she wants to kiss me even more.” He winks at me, and I find it hilarious how Lily has turned him into a lovable Mr. Mom.

  “Well, I’ll plan to get out of your hair then, before she comes home.” I snicker.

  “So, what’s up? Why are you hanging here and not at Forrest’s?” he asks, flicking the TV on and turning to the baseball game.

  I check the score on the screen. “What do you mean? He’s not the only brother I like.”

  “Yeah, but the whole twin thing, you guys are psychic butt buddies.” Bowen says this as if it’s fact.

  I guess it kind of is. “Whatever. I wanted to hang with you. My big Bowie.”

  The nickname jab is because he called us psychic butt buddies, and I get the response I want when my older brother growls.

  “Don’t call me Bowie. And cut the shit. Tell me why you wanted to come over, other than to snuggle my adorable daughter.”

  Shit, he does see right through me all the time. See, Bowen and I are similar in a lot of ways. While Forrest is my twin, he’s also very unlike me. Forrest is a grade-A brain and loner, he can spend days not talking to another person. He’s always been on the outside of things, doesn’t like sports much, and if he has a problem with something, he will confront you about it.

  Bowen and I, we’re much more internal with our feelings. Bowen more than me, but we keep things bottled up. To the point that they fester and begin to infect us with rage or hurt. I saw him do it with Lily; he lived in this bubble of anger for a decade and wouldn’t get out of his own way to solve his pain.

  Before I got sober, I was the same way. I used partying and being social as a cover for the larger problem that was eating me whole. And since giving it all up, I’ve used celibacy as a crutch. If I don’t have the turmoil of a relationship, I don’t have to worry that a fight or a financial commitment to someone will escalate into me having a drink.

  I decide to broach the subject with Bowen, though I know he may crack some wiseass remark.

  “How did you, uh … stay away from Lily? Or when you knew you wanted to break your whole sullen and damaged routine to get her back … how did you do that?”

  “You’re sleeping with Ryan, huh?” Bowen doesn’t even bother looking at me.

  “What the … no!” I try to sound offended or surprised, but I know my older brother is looking right through this defense.

  “Don’t lie, Fletch. You’re shit at it since you got sober.”

  I can’t argue with him there. “Fine. We may have … done something, but we’re not sleeping together.”

  “You want to sleep with her, though, right?” Why does he have to be all up in my business?

  “Yes,” I grumble reluctantly.

  “Glad you’re finally admitting it. Forrest and I were taking bets on how much longer you were going to follow her around with your tail between your legs.” He chuckles.

  “You guys are fucking assholes.”

  Bowen rocks Molly, who is now snoozing in his arms. “Hey, language. There is a little girl present.”

  “Sorry. But can you just be serious for a minute?” I feel like a pouting school kid.

  “You really like her.” It’s not a question.

  But I answer it anyway. “Yes. I do.”

  “I didn’t think you two had spent much time together,” he points out.

  “We’ve … gone on two dates so far. But, I’ve known her for years through Presley. We’ve talked. And of anyone, I think you’d understand that there is a connection you have with some people that is just unexplainable.”

  My brother nods. “What’s the problem, then?”

  “I’m not sure I know how to be with someone. Or how to introduce someone into my life when there are so many rules I have to follow to stay on the straight and narrow. How did you … how did you get over your shit?”

  “I finally pulled my head out of my ass and realized that I could either keep living life as a sullen, dark asshole … or I could go get my girl. I could stop being afraid of what would happen and be with the woman I loved since the first time I laid eyes on her. You just have to get over the mental hurdle in your head that says the world is going to end if something bad happens between the two of you. Are you going to fight? Are there going to be tough days? Will money be tight, will you both be tired? Hell fucking yes. But that’s life, with or without her. And if she makes your world better, you best stop being an idiot and get over yourself.”

  Well, there was a Bowen pep talk if I ever heard one.

  “Shit, I wish I could have a drink right now. Beer helps you mull things over, you know?”

  Bowen looks at me like I might go postal and raid his kitchen for a drink. “Are you okay?”

  I sigh. “Yes, Bowie. I’m fine. It’s good to talk about cravings, or urges. It’s better than bottling them up.” At least that’s what Cookie says.

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “I just mean … thanks for the advice. I wish I didn’t have to weigh every decision in my life so seriously. Like everything I do is going to tip the scales and send me sliding back down the bottle again.”

  My brother claps me on the shoulder. “Man, you have five years under your belt. You’re doing a great job. We’re all really proud of you. But if you don’t get your head out of your ass and go after that girl, I’ll give you a wedgie myself.”

  Brothers, am I right?

  22

  Ryan

  “You went out with Fletcher, didn’t you?”

  Penelope is about four beers in, and she’s flying high on the alcohol buzz and a night off from mom duty.

  I collapse into a fit of giggles, my head hitting the bar in front of me as I dissolve into my hiccupping laughs.

  “Well, once. Technically. The other time was just a hangout, that ended in a blow job.”

  My hand slaps against my mouth because I can’t believe what just slipped out actually slipped out. Those damn tequila sunrises were making my tongue even looser than it usually is.

  “Oh. My. God!” Presley screeches, causing almost every patron in the bar to turn their heads and stare at us.

  “Fuck you, alcohol,” I curse at my glass, eyeing it with a glare.

  “I … I’m speechless …” Lily’s mouth is hanging so wide open, I could throw ping-pong balls in there.

  “Is it incest that we all love Nash men and are therefore all attracted to the same look of a man?” Penelope snickers into her beer bottle.

  “Ew, what? No. Bowen looks nothing like the other brothers. Neither does Keaton. The only two who look alike are Forrest and Fletcher.” Lily scoffs.

  “Well, duh, Lil, they’re twins. Guess that means we’re Eskimo sisters.” Penelope elbows me.

  “That’s not what that means!” I cackle.

  She frowns, her drunken brain confusing her. “No, you’re right, I’m definitely getting that wrong.”

  “That’s definitely wrong.” I laugh. “Being an Eskimo sister is when you and a girlfriend sleep with the same guy, not at the same time though and not in a mean way. Like, if I had a hookup with a guy, and then you went on to have a one-night stand with him. But we both didn’t care and were just weirdly psyched that we now had a bond about sleeping with the same guy.”

  “If you sleep with my husband, I’ll kill you.” Penelope points a finger at me.

  I almost spit out my tequila drink. “Girl, I’m not going after Forrest. Believe me, the guy annoys the shit out of me. Love him, but he codes websites all wrong.”

  “No, you’re just going after Fletcher. Can we please not lose sight of what’s important here?” Presley bursts out, I think finally getting her voice back after I stunned her to silence.

  My cheeks flame with a blush. “What’s to talk about?”

  “Um, you blew him!” Presley throws her hands up like I’ve lost my damn mind.

  “The guy hasn’t had sex in five years. He was in dire need.” I shrug.

  Penelope slaps her hand d
own on the bar. “I knew it! I knew he was dry as the Sahara. Damn, if I had to go that long without sex … jeez, I went about a year and it almost killed me.”

  “You don’t want to know how long I went, then,” Lily mumbled. “Though that situation has more than rectified itself.”

  “We know, you have a baby.” Presley eyes her sister-in-law, but I don’t miss the edge of envy in her eyes.

  It’s not the time to touch on that, though I store it in the back of my brain for later. Maybe when we’re not halfway down the bottle.

  “So, you said you technically went on an actual date?” she presses me.

  I sigh, knowing I shouldn’t have let my big mouth blab, but also glad I can talk to them about this. They all know Fletcher more than anyone and are also three amazing women. I’m terrified that I feel such a strong connection with Fletcher … and that I’ve technically broken my vow to myself.

  “Yes, he took me to see his barn. So we … hung out there and things escalated. And then two days ago, he took me to his favorite Amish country market.”

  “Ah, he got you with those apple turnovers, didn’t he? What a great move. I’d sleep with someone if they bought me one of those heavenly pastries.” Penelope tips her beer, seeming to compliment Fletcher.

  That makes me chuckle. “It’s like a food orgasm. Anyways, the date was … good. Really good. But, I swore I wouldn’t date anyone. At least not in the near future. And by near future, I meant forever.”

  Lily shrugs. “So? You like each other, you have chemistry. You should follow your heart.”

  “Says the girl who waited for a man for ten years. You’re such a romantic, Lil,” Penelope teases her best friend.

  Lily rolls her eyes. “All I’m saying is … life is short. And if you feel something for a person, you should go for it.”