Prick Tease (Tangled Desires #1)

by Misti Murphy

  Oh crap! Henley’s idea of working out is probably lying on his back while some wannabe porn star does all the work. I squeeze my eyes shut, and rest my forehead against Razer’s back. How long until I have to deal with the fallout?

  “It’s not that bad is it? It’s just a tire.” He pats my hand.

  “Yeah. Just a tire.” And a scandal, and the one man in the world I never expected to see again, all on the same day. No big deal.

  The bike roars again and then we’re eating up the blacktop while I hold on for dear life, wondering why he’s home and how long it will be until he takes off again. It shouldn’t matter, but we’d once been close. He’d been like another brother to me. He’d practically lived at our house, and he’d been the one who really got on my case. Until I’d turned fourteen. Then I’d stopped thinking of him as a brother.

  He still smells so damn good. His scent is more decadent than chocolate, and that’s saying something since if I even smell chocolate, my mouth waters. From the moment that tiny glimmer of aroma hits my nostrils, my taste buds dance, and all I can think about is that first bite of yummy goodness and the way it melts against my tongue. And if I don’t get it, it becomes all I can think about. That was the effect Razer had on me back then. Back before he cut me out of his life because I took things too far.

  My mouth waters as if I’m Pavlov’s dog and someone just rang the dinner bell. But I’m not interested in rehashing the past. I don’t really care why Razer’s back in Reverence, or whether any of my letters ever reached him, or if he regrets cutting me out of his life. Or if he ever thinks about that night the way I do. I’m only here long enough to get my head together. A few days at most.

  Street lights cut through the darkness as we edge into Reverence. Up ahead the center of town sprawls out with its low-rise offices and restaurant sector. Not quite home but almost there. Razer doesn’t need directions. He seems to know where Tom lives, which makes me wonder how often the two of them keep in contact, since Tom only moved a few months ago.

  I haven’t even been to his house yet. Tom always comes to visit me, instead, and Rush and Mace are too far spread to catch up more than once a year. I have so much going on with House to Haven that I barely have any free time anyway. Besides, there are things I prefer to forget. Boys with gray eyes and lopsided smiles, for example. I suck in my cheeks at that thought. Boys with gray eyes apparently grow up into hulking men.

  For years I’d avoided coming home because of him. Not the real him, since he was off who knows where to defend our country, but the shadow of him, of that last trip he and Mace made on my sixteenth birthday.

  Even after that I’d sent letters. Apologies. I just wanted it to go back to the way it had been before. Having four older brothers instead of the three my parents gave me. Having him yell at me for sneaking out of the house, or even to hear him call me Little Bit again, though I’d outgrown the nickname years ago. I’d sent so many letters, until I finally got the point. He had no interest in staying in touch with his friend’s little sister. I kept writing for a while, even after I stopped sending them. Those letters are tucked away in a shoebox at the back of my wardrobe. I keep meaning to throw them away.

  He pulls into Tom’s driveway, and I’m still so caught up in my memories that it takes him clearing his throat for me to notice we’ve arrived. I slide off the bike and shiver. It won’t be long before I’ll have to admit my life is falling down around me. I can never keep secrets from Tom.

  Chapter Two

  Claire

  “What? Is it Christmas?” Tom breaks into a grin as he fills the doorway, his mastiff Lucky winding in front of his legs, her tail thumping. “My little sister and the prodigal brother all in one hit. Must be my lucky day.”

  “Nice security system.” Raze nods at the small camera I hadn’t noticed tucked away under the edge of the porch.

  “Yeah, well I don’t want bastards like you sneaking up on me.” Tom holds open the security door, but makes no effort to get out of the way. Instead Lucky bounds out and jumps up, landing her paws on my shoulders and sending me careening backward into Razer.

  “It’s just not your day is it?” He chuckles, his chiselled arms bracketing me for a moment before he rights me on my feet.

  No. It’s definitely not my day. Razer freaking Bennington has had his hands all over me, and any belief I’d had that I could decide not to be attracted to him has flown out the window. “Come on, Tommy. Let us in.” I try to brush past him, but he grabs me up and lifts me off my feet, squeezing me until I almost can’t breathe.

  I push at his shoulders half-heartedly. “Put me down, you oaf.”

  With a chuckle he drops me to my feet and clasps Razer’s hand. “Good to see you in the flesh for a change.”

  “You too.”

  I glance from one to the other. I should have figured they’d kept in touch. That it was just me Razer had a problem with. “Do you have any lemonade, Tommy?”

  “Sure, Little Bit.” As he leads the way to the kitchen, Razer’s keenly observing our surroundings, his head swivelling as he checks out Tom’s pad. Must be an almost automatic thing for him after years as a marine.

  The house is far more spacious than I expected, but set up in true bachelorhood fashion. Photographs of fighters line the walls, and the gloves Tom used to wear when he’d been boxing competitively hang from a nail in the wall. But the kitchen is state of the art, decked out in honey colored cabinets and white countertops with a double range taking up the center of the island. “Nice place.”

  “So who’s the lucky lady?” Razer whistles.

  “What?” Tom tosses a beer at Razer’s head, which he plucks out of the air like he’s a baseball player, not a marine.

  With a grin, he twists the lid off and pinches it in half before dropping it on the counter. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble for someone who doesn’t cook. Plus there’s a whole lot of windows along the east side. What, four bedrooms, or three and a study? This isn’t a bachelor pad.”

  “It’s a house, dickhead, and who says I don’t cook? It’s been a long time since you’ve been around. I thought you were coming tomorrow?”

  “Well, it’s a good thing I got here early, since Little Bit got stuck on the side of the road.” Razer sheds his leather jacket and tosses it over the back of a chair at the oak dining table.

  Tom pours half a beer into a glass and tops it off with lemonade before pushing it in front of me with a raised eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until next month.”

  I glance at Razer who swigs from his beer nonchalantly and then studies the label. “This is a good brew.”

  “Yeah. I made it myself.” Tom’s keen gaze holds mine, even as he speaks out the side of his mouth. “Everything okay? What’s going on?”

  No. Not really. “Nothing. I just thought I’d come visit for a couple days.”

  My voice must wobble, because Razer clears his throat. “I need to make a phone call. Can you excuse me for a minute?”

  Tom and I both nod in unison. I watch him prowl out of the room, his cell already in his hand. His muscular shoulders are outlined clearly through his tight shirt, now that he’s taken his jacket off.

  “So what’s really going on?” Tom leans over the counter and gathers up my fingers. I dart a glance at the one I hurt earlier. It’s already looking better. But my other finger, the one that’s supposed to have a ring on it, the one Tom is staring at, doesn’t even feel naked. He’s always been intuitive, instinctual. He’s always been able to drag my secrets out. He’s the only one of my brothers who knows I had a crush on Razer. Though I never did tell him the full story. “What happened with Henley?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” I wander over to the range and fiddle with the knobs. “This is some pretty impressive equipment.”

  “You’re stalling.” He crosses his arms. “Tell me the problem.”

  “There’s no problem. We decided to go our separate ways,” I mumble.

  “Righ
t.” He shoves off the counter and grips my shoulders. “If you don’t spit it out I’m going to go find Henley and beat it out of him, since I’m pretty sure he’s done something to deserve a pounding.”

  “Not everything can be solved with violence.” I stick my tongue out, but tears prick my eyes again.

  “True. But it sure can make you feel better.”

  I chuckle. “Maybe.”

  “So what did he do?” Tom wraps his arms around me. “Come on, Little Bit, talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”

  I exhale. “Fine. But I don’t want anyone else to know. I found him with a woman.”

  “Wait.” He spins me around, his brow drawn down over his stormy gaze. “Isn’t he always going on about purity, or some such bullshit?”

  “It’s not bullshit.” Or at least I never used to believe it was. I push him away.

  “It is if the bastard is cheating on my little sister,” Tom roars, and I cringe. I can only assume that Razer hears him. And for some reason the idea of him knowing my life is going down the toilet pisses me off.

  “Anyway, I broke off the engagement, but you can only imagine what will happen if the media find out. And the CFN just donated a massive sum to House to Haven as part of the contract for televising the wedding. They’re going to be pissed.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to go smash his skull in?” Tom clenches and unclenches his hands, the muscles up his arms tensing enough for a couple veins to stand out. “Give the dickhead paps a real story.”

  “No.” I slap a hand to his chest. “Honestly, I think it’s for the best. In hindsight I think I knew we weren’t doing it for the right reasons.”

  “Ha. No kidding. You couldn’t tell it was a bad idea to marry a guy whose first name is practically the same as our last. Besides, Henley sounds so bloody girly.”

  I smile despite myself. “Maybe. It doesn’t matter now. I just need a couple days to lie low, get my head wrapped around it, and work out what I’m supposed to do next. Is it okay if I stay here?”

  “You know you’re always welcome. There’s no need to ask.” He slings his arm around my shoulder and grins. “But I have bad news for you.”

  “Right. Because today can’t get any worse.” I roll my eyes.

  “Razer’s staying here, too.”

  “Here?” I squeak as he leads me out to the living room. Razer isn’t there so I figure he must have gone outside to make his phone call.

  “Here. Do you still sleep in that T-shirt you stole from him?” Tom chuckles. “Of all the people you could have had a crush on. Quite frankly, it’s weird. You’re weird. He’s family.”

  “It was years ago.” I shrug, though my insides are quivering. Why the hell hadn’t I thrown that T-shirt out, instead of continuing to wear it to bed? “And Razer’s an asshole. If we’re practically family why haven’t I talked to him since my sixteenth birthday?”

  I will not admit that after seeing Razer, and the deep down tingling he unleashed in my core, I’ve gone straight back to wanting to jump his bones. I won’t.

  I probably shouldn’t, but given the opportunity? Oh hell, yes. But not because of any misplaced sentiment. It’s just that after today I’m going to be crowned the poor little prude whose fiancé would rather get it on with bimbo Barbie than her. If I’m going to have to suffer because Henley can’t keep his two-inch dick in his pants, then what does it matter if I don’t save myself for marriage? The reasons I had don’t mean anything now. And the reasons for wanting to be done with my V-card are mounting with each minute I spend in Razer’s company. Besides, maybe if I wasn’t a virgin I could make Henley believe I hadn’t been all along. The look on his face would be priceless.

  Razer

  Claire Hadley has the most incredible violet eyes, framed by the thickest, longest lashes I’ve ever seen on a girl. Hell, I’ve checked. Compared woman after woman over the years. But none of them had the kind of eyes that haunted me. That stayed with me in the darkest of hours.

  Pacing the length of the yard, my cell in my hand, I wonder how long it will take for their little chat to be over. I’ve already heard enough to know some asshole hurt our girl. I’m ready to climb on my bike, find him, and beat the living snot out of him for what he’s done. Only I don’t know who he is. So instead I keep up the pacing, wearing a path in the lawn.

  Their conversation drifts out to me. Her high-pitched squeak when Tom tells her I’m staying with him. Something about a stolen T-shirt. And then very clearly my name and in quick succession asshole.

  Not that I blame her. I have been an asshole. A bonafide prick. And I can’t pretend I didn’t expect her to hate me, since I put a shitload of effort into producing that particular result. But I couldn’t have done it any other way. There was no point that the feelings I’d had for her would be welcomed. Thank God I’d been able to shake them off and put her back in the box I kept for her as the little sister I’ve never had.

  That’s all this prickly surge of anger is. Brotherly protectiveness. It has nothing to do with the way my body hummed when I’d wrapped her arms around me earlier, and she’d pressed those generous curves against me, giving a tangibleness to my fantasies. “You’re a sick asshole,” I mutter under my breath.

  Not that it had ever been like that with us. She’d been the baby, six years younger than me and Mace. Practically family, and I’m not a fucking pervert. But there’d been a time when I’d wanted none of that to matter, that I’d fancied sticking around Reverence to find out what kind of woman my best friend’s little sister would turn into.

  “Hello?” A blonde woman hugs her tan trench coat tighter around her middle as she clips down the drive in stilettos.

  I let my gaze roam over her, take in the legs that go for miles. Probably a mirage, since the trench coat only skims mid-thigh. “Hey yourself.”

  “Do I know you?” Her brow wrinkles, while she peers at me before tossing her head as if hoping to shake an old memory loose. “You look familiar.”

  “If you’re from around here, we probably went to school together.” I offer my hand. “Name’s Razer.”

  Scarlett lips form a perfect O. “The other brother. I’m Lucy.”

  “Looking for Tom?” I head for the front door, happy for the interruption to whatever conversation Tom and Claire are having about me. “Tommy boy, your girlfriend’s here.”

  Tom shoots up from his spot on the couch beside Claire. “Lucy. Shit, I forgot.”

  “I can see that.” She raises one delicate eyebrow and glances at Claire, sticking her nose up in the air. “You could have called.”

  I don’t appreciate the way she’s gazing down her nose at Claire. She’s had a bad enough day without Tom’s girlfriend coming in to stir up trouble. She sure as hell doesn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve whatever happened to drive her out here, either. “He wasn’t expecting us. Maybe you can take a rain check.”

  He takes Lucy’s elbow, leading her back toward the door. “They just rocked up. I’ll be free in a couple days. Can I call you?”

  When the door bangs shut behind them, I sink into the recliner opposite Claire, though the idea of taking the spot beside her holds far more appeal. “So how’s life treating you, Little Bit?”

  “How’s life treating me?” Her mouth pinches at the corners. The way it used to when one of us boys had pissed her off by telling her she couldn’t come down to the lake with us when we’d been teenagers. “How’s life been treating me?”

  “Yeah. Tell me what I’ve missed out on.”

  She leans forward, her eyes flashing with heat. “Seven years without so much as an email or a letter, Razer. You don’t get to ask me anything.”

  “Fair enough. I deserve that.”

  “What are you doing here?” She crosses her arms over her chest, but that only serves to push her breast together in a way that demands my attention.

  “My grandfather finally kicked the bucket. I had to come back and sort out his shit.” I shrug, lea
ning forward too, my hands clamped in front of me. Trying to keep my gaze on her face.

  Everyone knew me and the old man hadn’t been close. He’d been working on preserving his liver for as long as I could remember, and when he wasn’t doing that, he’d been standing over me with his belt in his hand and a snarl on his face. But then my parents hadn’t been any better, dumping me on his doorstep when I was three without so much as a forwarding address. Thank God for the Hadleys.

  Which was why as much as I wanted to obliterate the distance between me and Claire, I wouldn’t move a muscle in her direction. I swore an oath that I wouldn’t let down her parents, her brothers. The family that is much more mine than my own. They deserve so much more than my loyalty for what they did for the poor kid I was before they opened their home to me. Thinking of Claire the way I have is a betrayal I can’t forgive myself for. If they knew, if I even fucking touched her, they would never forgive me. I couldn’t live with myself if I failed them like that.

  “I’m sorry.” She relaxes a little. “It’s been a really tough day. I think we should go to bed.”

  My cock jerks to attention, as my brain bounces from we should go to bed, to bed with Claire, to her naked and straddling my lap while I play out some of the fantasies I’ve only ever enacted alone. “Sorry?”

  “I’m ready to get some sleep.” She yawns, stretching.

  “You don’t happen to know where I’m supposed to lay my head, do you?”

  “Yes, actually.” She slides off the couch. “We’re sleeping next to each other.”

  I doubt she means it as an invitation, but the way her mouth lilts makes me want to take it as one. Makes me want to push her up against a wall, or a door, or the floor, and show her just how much I’ve missed her over the years. But she isn’t mine to take. I grab my duffel and follow her down the hallway to where it splits off into four equal sized bedrooms.