by Misti Murphy
Chapter Thirteen
Claire
I wake up grumpy. The space beside me on the bed is empty, which isn’t unusual because Razer’s been sneaking back to his own room before either of my brothers wake up, but this is different. Since I told him he was right, he hasn’t touched me. It’s been three freaking days, and the closest we’ve gotten is him handing me a mug of coffee yesterday morning. It’s as much my fault as his. I haven’t exactly been friendly, speaking to him in clipped tones, locking myself away to work, and scouring the Internet for any sign Henley’s indiscretion has become public knowledge. So far he seems to have stayed off the radar, which helps me breathe a little easier, but then it’s only a small slice of the problem that needs to be dealt with, and my mind has been preoccupied. Razer’s barely been at Tom’s, spending his time with Mace or out at the block as a means of avoiding me. He certainly hasn’t been beating my door down after our fight.
I miss him so much my skin aches. It’s prickly and raw with how hyperaware I’ve become of his constant touches. I don’t know if that’s normal, or if he’s just gotten so far under it that it screams out for his touch. But nothing I do eases the ache.
I stumble out of bed for the bathroom, consider throwing caution to the wind and slip into his room when I’m done. I don’t know why I don’t hear the shower running. Probably because I’m wading through the fog of an overly detailed fantasy of things I want to do to him. But he’s staring at me when I shut the door. His hand wrapped around his cock, the other to the steamy glass. Déjà freaking vu.
“I’m not right,” he says. “Damn it, Claire. I’ve never been right about a damn thing when it comes to you.”
“What are you saying?” This time there’s no hesitation as I cross the room, my gaze dropping to the hand he has on his erection. I’m dying to get in the shower with him, to drop to my knees and take his cock in my mouth so I can taste him.
His gaze bores into mine as he steps out of the shower and starts stripping me bare. “You can expect things from me. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“I’ve missed you,” I say as he pulls me under the spray.
“I’ve missed you, too.” He’s already showing me, his hands on my breasts, between my legs, while he tells me what he wants to do to me between devouring my mouth. Then I take his cock in my palm, stroking him until he’s groaning, his hands pressed to the wet, steamy glass either side of me. I can’t stop the urge to get on my knees and take him in my mouth, tasting him, sucking him, while I massage his heavy balls in my hand until he cums hard, his seed coating my throat.
After that he puts his mouth on me, licking and thrusting his tongue inside me until I orgasm.
We don’t talk about what happened, or what will happen now. We should, and we will. But not right away, not yet, not while we’re still making love with our eyes, and our hands as we dry each other off and get dressed. Then he lingers over my mouth until I’d rather stay locked in the bathroom with him than go in search of my morning caffeine fix.
When he finally lets me go, he ducks his head out to check for my brothers, and then swats my ass as he nudges me out of the bathroom, giving me a couple minutes head start.
Tom pushes coffee in front of me when I enter the kitchen, and goes back to reading his mail.
“Where’s Mace?” I ask, hopping onto a stool and grabbing a mandarin out of the bowl on the counter.
“I think he’s going to stay.” Tom says. “He’s out talking to a couple guys who run security around here.”
“Oh.” I dig my fingers into the skin of the mandarin, peeling it and tearing it into segments before popping them in my mouth.
“What’s going on with you and Razer?”
“N-nothing,” I say, blushing furiously. I pray that Tom doesn’t somehow know I was on my knees for Razer only a few minutes ago.
“You two have barely said a word to each other since the ring.” He glances up as he tears into another envelope.
“We’re fine.” I sip my coffee, gag on it and scramble for the sugar bowl. “Yuck. Seriously, Tommy. How can you drink that swill?”
“No one needs three sugars, Little Bit.” He chuckles. “Well I’m glad you’re fine. I didn’t want to have to kick you out.”
“What?” I stand there with a spoonful of sugar halfway to my cup. “You’d kick me out?”
“It’s much easier to have a bachelor pad without a girl in it.” He grimaces.
I drop the spoon back in the container and swat him. “Pig.”
“Morning,” Razer says, going straight for the juice. What are you two arguing about?”
It’s amazing how it’s only been minutes since I saw him and yet my gaze drinks him in like it’s been far longer. I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of him. “He’d kick me out before you,” I splutter with mock indignation. “All so he can keep his bachelor pad.”
Razer laughs. “Your little sister cramping your style, Tom?”
“Huh?” Tom doesn’t look up, his face draining of color as he stares at the envelope in his hand.
“Are you all right? Is the idea of losing your bachelor pad that upsetting?” I nudge him.
“What?” He snaps his head up from the envelope to glance at me and he has this wild look in his eyes that’s kind of unnerving for a second, before he shutters his gaze. “Yeah, um, sure. I have to go. I’ve got…” he glances down at the envelope in his hand. “An appointment I forgot about.”
“What do you think that was about?” I ask Razer when Tom races out of the kitchen.
“Who knows?” He takes my hand, doing that thing with his thumb to my palm that he knows unwinds me. “He’s a big boy now, sugar. He can take care of his own problems.”
“I know,” I say, but I can’t help the slight tremor in my gut I get from that look in Tom’s eyes.
Razer clasps my cheek with his palm. “I’ll talk to him, okay? But right now, I want to be selfish and have you all to myself. Three days, beautiful, three days of torturing myself with not being with you. I hated every fucking moment.”
***
Razer pads across the carpet and closes the lid on my laptop. “Still looking to see if that asshole is going to show up in the gossip mags?”
“Yeah.” I glance up at him. The past few days I’ve been scouring the media sites, my gut tingling with the feeling that something isn’t quite right. But I’m not sure whether it’s to do with Henley or my brother. Tom’s out of sorts, and it’s noticeable, but he shrugs it off and won’t talk about it. Still, whenever I look at Razer, my worries seem to slip away. As though they aren’t really important. Like whatever’s happening with Tom will sort itself out, or that it wouldn’t matter if Henley got caught with his pants around his ankles. “But it seems like he’s good at keeping his secrets.”
“I still want to punch his lights out.” He squeezes my hand and pulls me out of my chair. “But I have other ways of making you feel better.”
He certainly does. A flutter of pleasure unfurls in my core as he palms the base of my throat. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Tom’s still here. I don’t think he was going out.”
“Then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?” he whispers against my ear, before scraping his teeth down the side of my neck. “The fucker’s barely left the house in days. I’m running out of patience.”
“I can see that.” I tilt my head to the side, and he bites playfully at my shoulder, sending a ricochet of sensation straight to my clit.
He runs his hands up my sides, cups both breasts, weighing them in his palms. “Be a good girl and lock the door.”
“We’re going to get caught,” I whisper. “I thought we were trying to avoid that.”
One large palm races down my belly to cup my sex, and my knees buckle with want. “That’s why you’re going to be quiet while I fuck you with my tongue.”
“What if I can’t?” I grind against him, his palm over my pussy and his erection against my ass. “You make it
almost impossible.”
“Because all this stops if your brothers find out. You know that. So you’ll be quiet, because you’re greedy. You’re never going to get enough.”
Damn straight. I’ll never get enough. And somehow the idea of having to keep quiet, of possibly getting caught, makes it hotter. “Okay.”
I slip out of his arms, going to the door and twisting the lock. As soon as I turn to go back to him, he’s in front of me, on his knees, my skirt bunched in one hand on my hip while the other tugs my panties to the floor. He doesn’t even give me an opportunity to step out of them before he rubs the pad of one finger across my clit. “You’re so damn pretty, sugar. I can see how wet you are for me. The slight shine it creates on your pussy when you want me so hard it hurts.”
My whole body is fighting the urge to sink onto his fingers. Well, not so much fighting the urge, but if I grind down on him the way I want, my legs will go out from underneath me. He slides a digit inside me and my back arches, bumping my head against the door with a whimper.
“Shh.” He pushes in and out of me, adds a second finger. “You don’t want Tom to hear.”
Oh Good Lord. His fingers scissor inside me, stretching me, and then he leans forward to dart his tongue across my clit. I shake my head, biting back on the need to cry out for him. My fingers scrabble at the wood while he licks me everywhere, around those magical fingers of his.
“Hey, Little Bit, Chelsea pushed Mace into playing mini-golf and he wants back up. Can’t believe he’s scared of a girl.” Tom’s voice on the other side of the door startles me and the edge of my cry escapes before I can cut it off. “Hey, are you okay?” He knocks. “Can I come in?”
“Uh.” Shit. “No.” Oh my God, no. Razer’s pulled his fingers out of me and replaced them with his tongue. I’m riding him, my knees buckling, my hips pushing me down onto his face with every stroke while Tom’s talking to me through the door. I slam my hand over my mouth, my eyes watering, but I can’t stop the sound that’s coming out of my mouth.
“Are you crying?” Tom tries the handle. I see it turn from the corner of my eye, and I’ve never been so happy for a lock in my life. My heart is beating out of my chest. I push at Razer’s head, or maybe I’m pulling him closer, forcing more of me into his mouth because I’m so close now. Getting so damn close. And it’s so very wrong with Tom on the other side of the door.
“I’m fine.” I kind of squeal on the last word.
“No you’re fucking not. What’s going on?”
Razer’s grasping my ass, digging his fingers into the crack of my ass while he works me harder with his mouth. I stare down at him. There’s a challenge in his gaze. He’s not letting this go, because he’s testing me. He’s making me prove how much I don’t want this to end. I dart desperate glances around the room, landing on the laptop. “Henley,” I say, and for a moment Razer slows down. “I’ve been checking the Internet to see if he’s hit the news yet. It’s just so stressful.”
“It’s going to be okay.” There’s a soft thud from the other side of the door. He’s probably standing there with his back flush against it. How he can be so ignorant of what is going on in here is beyond me. “This isn’t going to ruin your life, Little Bit. It’s just a hiccup.”
Razer’s finger finds the knot of my ass and presses rhythmically against the sensitive spot. “Sheeet,” I moan as waves of pleasure rush over me.
“Are you sure that’s all it is? I thought maybe it was Razer.”
“Wh-what?” I thump against the door, as my whole body sways under the pressure of my orgasm. And still Razer doesn’t let up. It’s as if he’s starving for me, needing to lick me clean, or imprint my taste on his taste buds in a way toothpaste will never remove. “Jeesus.”
“Bloody hell, you don’t need to throw things, Claire. Don’t dent my walls or anything. I just thought maybe spending so much time around him has brought that crush back. It’s kind of noticeable in the way you look at him.”
“In the way I look at him?” I stare down at Razer when he pulls back, stroking his fingers gently over my pussy before pulling my panties back up.
“Yeah. To me, anyway. I don’t think he’s noticed, which is probably a good thing.”
“Why?”
Razer scowls at me, as though telling me he doesn’t agree with me asking my brother why he thinks we shouldn’t be together. But wouldn’t understanding why Tommy feels the way he does help us work out how to explain ourselves?
“Because he’s never going to see you like that, Claire. You’re always going to be the little sister, like you are to the rest of us. That’s just the facts. Once you’re over this Henley shit, you’re going to find a nice guy who’s right for you and forget this stupid crush. You know that, right?”
I don’t know any such thing. But the way Razer is looking at me, even as he cups my cheek and scuttles his lips across mine, confirms he believes what Tom’s saying. “Whatever you think, Tommy. I need a few minutes, okay?”
“Okay, but then we’re going to play mini-golf.” He shifts off the door. “Speaking of, have you seen Razer?”
“No. No, I haven’t.” I say even as he captures my hand and leads me over to the bed. “I’m sure he isn’t far.”
Lying back on the bed, he drags me on top of him. He stays quiet until he’s sure Tom’s far enough away not to hear us. “I told you that’s how they feel about us. Mace will be worse.”
“They’ll get over it.” I undo his pants, pull them down off his hips and stroke a finger over his erection. “They will.”
“Who are you trying to convince, sugar?” He grabs my face between his palms and drags me down to kiss me senseless. “Me or yourself? They’re not going to forgive me. Surely, you can see that.”
“No,” I say slipping my hand into his boxers and gently squeezing his cock. He’s all hot hardness in my palm. I love the contradiction of it. How something so hard can be so ridiculously soft. I love that I can feel how I affect him. “I can’t see that. I can see how much you want to be inside me, though.”
“Changing the subject?” He chuckles. “I can deal with that for now.”
Wriggling off him, I pull my panties down, but I catch the flash of something out of the corner of my eye, something outside the window. I freeze, and then whip them back up, and race over to the window. Peering outside, I see nothing. There’s no one there.
“What is it?” Razer’s already beside me. He moves quietly, swiftly. I barely notice.
“I think I saw something. Like a camera flash, or…something.” I shake my head. “It must be my imagination. Just stress.”
He pulls me back behind the curtain, kisses me. “It was probably just a bird.”
“But it flashed.”
Over my head he scans the yard. “Tom’s got a bird feeder in one of the trees down there. Probably just the sun glinting off a bit of metal.”
“Do you think?” I breathe easier, keen to cling to his explanation.
“Yeah, I do.” He lets go of me to pull open the window, and straddle the sill. Then he grins. It reminds me of when we were younger, and I tried to climb out my window to meet my friends only to find him waiting for me.
“What are you doing?”
“Sneaking out of your room. Don’t want to get caught by Tommy boy now do we? And he’s waiting for you.”
I snicker. “You don’t need to do that. There’s a perfectly acceptable door.”
He swings his other leg over the sill and pushes off, landing lightly on the grass. “You get ready to join the others. I’ll go round front and make sure Tom doesn’t suspect I just had my mouth all over you.”
With that he stalk off, and I slide the window shut, taking one last look around the yard. He was probably right. It was nothing more than a trick of light.
Razer
“Can you just fucking swing already? Does it always take you this long to line up a shot? It’s only mini-golf for fuck’s sake.” Mace scowls at Chelsea, his mass
ive arms crossed over his barrel chest while she shuffles her feet and inches side to side.
“Shut up, Mace. Don’t be a dick.” Her tone is sharp, but she’s grinning, purposefully ruffling him. Tom’s swinging from side to side, an iron over his shoulders, limbering up. He’s the only one of us beside Mace taking this seriously, but he’s got a title to uphold. Losing for him will lead to a shit-load of ribbing.
Chelsea finally swings, sending the little white ball rolling down the green felt and straight into the hole. Jumping around Mace, she slaps his arm. “This is why I keep getting hole in one’s and you don’t.”
He traps her hand, on his arm. “You don’t think I can beat you in any game you want to play?”
She winces, drops her gaze at the same time he drops her hand. “Whatever. You’re just a sore loser.”
“So where did you get to this afternoon?” Tom says, coming up beside me as Claire steps up for her turn. His gaze narrows on me, and I wonder if he ended up putting two and two together.
“Nowhere, just went for a run.”
“Are you sure about that?” He practices a few fast swings with his iron.
“What are you trying to say?” I slouch a little, not giving any hint that internally I’m not as relaxed. A golf iron can kill just as effectively as a bullet when wielded by an angry older brother.
“You’ve been acting a little weird. So has Little Bit.”
“I’ve been busy.” Doing your sister. Being the asshole I promised I would never turn into. Breaking the oath I made to always treat Claire like a sister. I shrug. “I have a lot of stuff to do before I leave, and she’s probably just stressed about that asshole.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right,” Tom says, as Claire comes over to get a high five from him for her hole in one. “Well, I have a title to keep.”
Claire brushes up against me. “What did he say? He doesn’t know, does he?”
Does he know? The way he glances over his shoulder at me, his brow furrowing, I’m not convinced he doesn’t. But if he does, he’s keeping it from Mace, because if Mace knew he wouldn’t be calmly tapping a golf ball down the miniature green. No, he’d be wielding that golf stick as a weapon and probably trying to plant it in my brain.
