by Misti Murphy
“You two are morons,” Claire says, but she doesn’t mean it. She’s far too happy to even pretend to be grumpy with them. I like that on her, the way I make her smile, her eyes lit up with warmth. “So what was the wager?”
“I’m building a house,” I tell her. “On the old man’s land.”
“Oh,” she says, her voice going breathy. “So you are staying in Reverence.”
“If you are.” I clear my throat. “The house, it’s for you. Do you think we could manage to live together?”
“We’ve done it before,” Claire says. “And we didn’t kill each other.”
“True.” I slip to the edge of my seat.
“You are not living in sin with my sister,” Mace grumbles. “It’s not fucking happening.”
“Shut up,” I growl at him. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.”
“Told you he was going to do it,” Tom crows, reaching around us to knuckle Mace in the arm.
Mace mutters, “Can’t imagine he’d have the guts.”
“Will you pull your damn head in?” I turn to glare at him. “I’m trying to propose to your sister, you dickhead.”
“Well, you’re taking too fucking long, and I’m starving.”
“Wait,” Claire interjects. She doesn’t raise her voice, but even so, we all go quiet. “You’re trying to do what?”
“I’m trying to ask you to marry me.” I fish in my pocket for the box I’d had to stop and get before I joined them at the ball. Setting it in her hand, I pop open the lid.
“Oh,” she says, staring down at the contents. Her hand goes to her mouth, her eyes huge as she stares up at me. “Oh.”
“That’s all you’re going to say?” Tom chuckles. “I thought you’d be demanding we all fly to Vegas so you could be Mrs. Bennington already. You’re so weird, Little Bit.”
“Oh,” she says again.
“Look at her, she’s fucking speechless. That’s a first.” Mace smirks.
Chelsea hisses at him. “Be quiet, you oaf. You’re ruining it.”
“Yes.” Claire laughs, then she flings her arms around me so fast the ring goes flying, and Tom falls on his ass as he launches out of his chair to catch it. The whole restaurant erupts into applause as he lays on the floor, holding up the box for everyone to see.
“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” I trace her mouth with mine as she practically climbs into my lap. “For someone who knows what they want, I didn’t expect it to take so long for you to say yes.”
“I didn’t expect you to ask me.” She sniffles.
“Are you crying?” Tom hands the ring to me, and I slip it onto her finger, before kissing the knuckle above it. “You’re not supposed to be crying.”
“Can’t help it.” She gulps. “You left again. Didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t expect it.”
“I’ve been calling you all week.”
“I haven’t had my phone. It’s been a clusterfuck since I got back.” She cocks her head to the side, furrows her brow. “Why didn’t you say goodbye?”
“Ask your brother.” I glare at Mace. “He stole my bike.”
“Stole your phone, too, Little Bit.” Tom squeezes her shoulder.
“You can’t be serious.”
Mace looks uncomfortable under her narrowed stare. He rubs the back of his neck and gets up from the table. “I’m just going to go get some champagne from the bar.”
He’s halfway there when Claire calls out to him. “I guess you two are stuck being brothers after all.”
“Ha, funny, Little Bit,” he says. “Just wait until you have to explain it to Mom and Dad.”
Claire
“Wake up, sleepy head,” Razer whispers, his hand stroking along my hip.
I can feel his morning wood touching my ass, and I lift my leg so he can nestle against my entrance. His mouth finds my neck, nuzzles along my shoulder as he moves inside me. “Happy birthday, sugar.”
“Mmm.” I tilt my head to kiss him. “Am I old enough to know what I want yet?”
“Definitely,” he whispers in my ear as he draws circles over my clit with the pad of one finger. “As long as it’s me.”
“Always.” I grind my ass into him, feeling him stroke my most sensitive places, our hips rolling together while he thrusts into me until I cum. Then he follows me, a low groan in my ear as he squeezes my hip and spills inside me.
Afterward we have breakfast with the boys and Razer tells me he has something to give me. We take the bike, enjoying the sweetness of the day and the sun on our backs, riding out to his land.
We pull up in front of the concrete slab our house will be built on, and he tucks my hand into his. It’s been almost a month since he asked me to marry him, and we’re still living with Tom while we plan the wedding, and the house is being built.
We went to visit my parents. That was nerve wracking. But in the end they hugged us both and said they were glad he was always going to be part of our family. Mace likes to make out that he’s upset about how easily they accepted our love, but he’s softened up, too. I think he actually likes the idea of Razer being his brother in law.
I’m still worried about Tom. He’s on a mission to find out who sent him the pregnancy test, and whether he’s really going to be a daddy. It’s kind of amusing, though I can’t help feel sorry for him as he alienates all these women. It’s going to give him a reputation that I don’t think he completely deserves, not when he’s trying to do the right thing. But some of the reactions he’s been getting when he asks them if they’re pregnant have been priceless.
Razer pulls out all these folded up pieces of paper from his pocket and hands them to me. There must be nearly a hundred of them.
“What are these?” I glance from the paper to him.
“My letters,” he says. “The ones you asked about.”
We sit on the grass, and I read each one, flattening out the paper with my hand and soaking up every word. “I wish I’d been older,” I tell him. “Maybe things would have been different.”
Clasping my face in his hand, he lingers over my lips. “I think they’re perfect the way they are.”
“Mace needed time to grow up,” I say. “He wouldn’t have been able to handle it when we were younger.”
“That’s true.” He laughs, pulling me up. “I hope he can handle it now. He’s going to have to put up with me as his brother for the rest of our lives.”
“He’ll manage,” I tuck myself into his chest and pull his head down so we’re staring into each other’s eyes, our noses pressed together.
“Good,” he says, “Because I’m going to continue loving you all my life.”
“Always,” I say. “Because I fought too hard for anything less.”
His lip twitches as his arms go around me like steel bands, our bond forged over decades as family, friends, strangers, and then lovers.
“Hell yeah,” he whispers against my mouth, and then he’s kissing me like it’s the first time, and a million butterflies take flight.
The End
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Magnetic Desires Series
Compulsion
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About the Author
Misti Murphy is a sadistic b*tch who loves to emotionally torture fictional people. If she did that in real life she’d probably end up in prison or a psych ward so she prefers to create dirty talking alphas and the sexually frustrated women who fall into their beds. And if someone needs to be smacked upside the head before f*cking turns to love then that makes her very happy indeed.
She’s a huge believer in flaws making us human, and that not
everyone likes bacon. She’s also addicted to chocolate and scared of the effects of the coming shortage. She swears like a f*cking trooper, and thinks that graphic smuttiness should be as real in fiction as it is in real life.
When she’s not writing she’s the perfect housewife and mother. Ha bloody ha! When she’s not writing she’s hiding in a cupboard with her kindle, scoffing chocolate, and stalking facebook.
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Acknowledgments
Thanks to my husband for talking me down off the ledge with this one.
Thanks to my boys, Shovel and Shotgun. You might not be old enough to take on the world for your sisters just yet, but I have no doubt when the boys come a callin’ you’ll know how to aim straight and bury a body in a shallow grave. Thanks for the ‘snipe a bastard’ line, and the What the Fuck birds that made me laugh when I thought I’d lost my sense of humor.
Thanks as always to Sheri and Jen. You girls. There are no words for how much you mean to me. I love that you find toothpaste as funny as I do.
Thanks to my readers. Without you, words mean nothing.
