Trouble Brewing

by Selena Kitt

  Go for it, Katie. Just fucking go for it. What do you have to lose?

  Everything. Nothing. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter.

  I went after him.

  I found my way down the hall, around the corner, down another hallway to the flight of stairs. From there it was straight back through the kitchen, where good smells wafted out, even before I opened the door.

  “Oh, hi, Katie.” Daisy smiled when I pushed open the swinging door. “Ty and Sarah went for a swim. You going to join them?”

  “Nah, thought I’d take a dip in the tomato bisque.” I smirked, glancing down at my suit, and she laughed.

  “They’re through there.” She pointed, tasting something out of a pot that, from here, smelled delicious.

  I wondered, briefly, if Daisy knew the real relationship between the three siblings, as I opened the back sliding patio door and peeked out. Tyler and Sarah were laughing and splashing each other as I closed the door behind me. Tyler glanced over, his eyebrows arching when he saw me in my suit, and he gave a low whistle.

  “Damn, girl, get in here,” he called.

  “I forgot a towel.” I crossed the distance, venturing up to the pool, my pink-painted toes just over the edge. Tyler dove under the cool, blue water that seemed to stretch on forever, curving around the side of the house. The sun was warm, but the breeze blew my hair around my shoulders as I watched him swim toward me.

  “No worries, we’ve always got fresh towels in there,” Sarah said, nodding toward the cabanas.

  “Tyler,” I warned, laughing as he came up from under the water and grabbed my ankles. “Don’t.”

  “You coming in?” His thumbs rubbed against the inside of my ankles, stroking down toward my instep. “Or do I have to pull you in?”

  “Don’t you dare!” I laughed, trying to take a step back, but he had a solid hold on me.

  “Cute toes.” He cocked his head, contemplating them. “Like little bits of candy.”

  He kissed the big toe on my right foot, making me giggle. Then I squealed when he nipped at it.

  “Tyler!” I protested, trying to twist away.

  “Oh no, you don’t.” He grinned, hands moving quickly up my calves to grasp my hips. “You’re mine now.”

  True, that, I thought, meeting his eyes. It all passed between us in an instant—his coming home, our making love in the shower, his confession in bed afterward, me hiding in the bathroom. That, and more.

  Everything welled up in my eyes. Our first meeting outside the venue in Detroit, the time we spent getting drunk and high and having sex in his hotel room. And then he’d helped me drop my engagement ring to my ex-fiancé off the balcony. Helped me let go of everything, finally, so I could cling just to him.

  I screamed in protest, even though I didn’t resist. There was no escaping it. He pulled me into the water with him, into his arms, both of us going under. I held my breath, surprised by how warm the water was—I’d expected a cold shock, but it was more like bath water—letting Tyler guide us back to the surface.

  Gasping as I came up for air, Tyler took my just-caught breath away again by kissing me. He captured my mouth, hand fisted in my wet hair, tongue slipping along the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. I opened to him instantly, giving in with a soft whimper, my legs going around his torso.

  “Get a room, you two,” Sarah called with a laugh, but I barely heard her. Tyler was devouring me from the inside out, his big, calloused palms moving hungrily over my back.

  “Mmmm, my Katie,” he murmured against my lips as we parted, my eyes fluttering open in the bright, California sunlight. “Mine.”

  “Yes,” I whispered back, nuzzling his ear with my nose, nipping at his earlobe.

  His arms tightened around me, practically crushing me, and I squirmed, laughing.

  “Just what I always wanted, my own widdle bunny wabbit,” he teased, quoting the Bugs Bunny cartoon. “I will name her Katie and I will hug her and pet her and squeeze her…”

  “I’m not a bunny rabbit,” I protested, gasping for air and pawing at his tanned, wet shoulders, actually quoting the cartoon without even thinking about it. “Now put me down.”

  “And pat her and pet her…”

  I squealed when his hands moved down to grip my ass, squeezing hard. “I don’t remember that part of the cartoon.”

  “I think they censored that part.” He grinned, hands kneading my flesh under the water. I glanced over at Sarah, who had pulled herself up onto the edge of the pool. She was wearing a white one-piece suit, her long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  “Your sister’s watching,” I whispered, giving him a look. I saw something flicker in his eyes—I knew the truth, now, at least part of it. Did that scare him? I wasn’t sure. “Better save it for later.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but the patio door slid open and Daisy came out carrying a tray.

  “Fresh lemonade,” she called.

  “It’s like living with Carol Brady,” I whispered, and Tyler threw his head back and laughed.

  I wanted Tyler to myself, but I didn’t want to hurt Sarah’s feelings, so we all hung around the pool, drinking lemonade and taking turns diving off the board in the deep end. Sarah and Tyler were more than competent divers. I was impressed. They could both do backflip. Me, I was lucky I didn’t just belly flop every time. And a few times, I actually did, after which Tyler kissed my navel and rubbed my red, raw tummy. After that, I decided the slide was much safer—and way more fun.

  “Dinner in an hour, you guys,” Daisy called out as she collected the empty pitcher and our glasses from the patio table. “I wasn’t planning on you, Tyler—you’re lucky I always make extra.”

  “Sorry,” he apologized, but he didn’t look sorry as he reached for me, but I side-stepped, heading toward the shallow end. “But you guys would have spoiled the surprise!”

  “Would not!” Sarah protested. She was pulling dry towels out of the cabana and handed me one as I approached. “You underestimate my ability to keep a secret.”

  No kidding, I thought, but didn’t say, accepting the towel and wrapping it around me.

  “So how formal is this dinner thing?” I asked as Tyler came up behind me, putting his arms around my waist. “Do I have to dress up?”

  “No.” Sarah smiled, shaking her head. “Rob just likes us all to eat dinner together when he’s home—you know, like a little family.”

  I nodded, trying not to let on that I knew, now, why he thought that way.

  “It’s home, Katie,” Tyler murmured against my ear, one word in that sentence thrilling me in particular. “Rob’s lucky if he can get me to put a shirt on for dinner.”

  “Wear a shirt, Tyler,” Daisy called from the patio table where she was cleaning up after us. “I insist.”

  “No love,” Tyler snorted with a shake of his wet head.

  “Yes, Tyler, wear a shirt,” I said, turning and putting my arms around his neck. “Let’s not give all the girls a show.”

  “Jealous.” He grinned, looking pleased. “Come on, let’s go take a shower.”

  “Six o’clock!” Daisy called as we went through the kitchen. Sarah went to her room, and we went upstairs to ours.

  We didn’t talk as Tyler ran the shower and we stripped off our wet bathing suits and got in. It was safer not to talk, I figured. But the silence was easy, comfortable, and the hot water reminded me instantly of when he’d surprised me this afternoon. It seemed like years ago, but it was just a few hours.

  We spent time just soaping each other up, taking our time, sensually exploring each other. Tyler wanted to wash my hair and I let him, his calloused fingers gently massaging my scalp as I leaned back against him. I could have spent our entire lives in that shower, wrapped in a cocoon of rising steam, but we both heard the phone ring from the night table.

  “You hungry?” I asked as we stepped out of the shower onto the cushioned bath mat.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he agreed, his gaze
moving over my naked body. “But not for food. Let’s tell her to bring us dinner in bed.”

  The phone rang again, and Tyler glared at the bathroom door, but then my stomach growled. His eyebrows went up at the sound.

  “Someone’s hungry.”

  “Lunch was amazing,” I told him, smiling. “I can’t wait to see what she did for dinner.”

  “Fine.” He sighed when I wrapped myself in a towel and headed out of the bathroom. He called after me, “But I’m doing you after dinner!”

  “Deal!” I laughed, digging through my suitcase, looking for something suitable to wear.

  Tyler said we didn’t have to dress up, but still, it felt kind of formal to sit at a dinner table with people after spending the last few months eating out of pizza boxes in Sabrina’s living room with Sarah while we watched Dexter on Netflix.

  “You don’t have to live out of your suitcase, baby,” Tyler said, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, seeing me digging through my bag. “There’s plenty of room for your stuff in the closet. And I had that dresser cleared out for you.”

  He nodded at the tall bureau.

  “You did?” I blinked in surprise. “When?”

  “Months ago.” He met my gaze in the mirror over the dresser. His wet hair dripped onto his broad, bare shoulders and I thought, maybe, his idea of dinner in bed wasn’t a bad one. “Before I went to Europe.”

  “How did you know I would say yes?”

  “You didn’t, remember?” Tyler moved my wet hair aside to kiss my neck and I shivered.

  It was true, I’d turned him down. He’d flown to Detroit before the tour with an engagement ring to ask me to marry him and go on tour, and I’d said no. I still don’t know how I’d managed to stick to my guns. Maybe it was because I’d been just out of rehab, and Sarah had been adamant that going on tour with Tyler would just let us fall into the same addictive patterns all over again.

  “I wanted to say yes,” I told him softly. “More than anything.”

  “You’re here now.” He sounded happy with that. “My Katie.”

  I loved when he said that. His hands moved over my shoulders, heading toward my cinched towel, and I shivered, knowing we’d never get out of this room if I let things go much further. Luckily, my stomach growled again.

  “Go get ready.” Tyler slapped my ass through the towel as I headed back to the bathroom with my clothes.

  It didn’t take me long—ten minutes or so to get dressed, dry my hair, and put on a little mascara and lip gloss. Tyler had jeans and a t-shirt on and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, checking his phone, when I came out and announced I was ready.

  We went downstairs to dinner, where Sarah was already eating.

  “I was starving,” she explained through a mouth full of chicken marsala. “I couldn’t wait.”

  Daisy scolded us mildly for being late and Tyler rolled his eyes, but he was smiling when he did it. The chicken marsala was tender and creamy and delicious. She served it with asparagus and some sort of herbed risotto that was so good I ate half of Tyler’s. It was like eating a gourmet meal, except right at your own dinner table. And I didn’t have to order it, pay for it, or even cook it myself or clean up afterward!

  It kind of made me feel guilty. Tyler laughed when I whispered that to him, and he told me I’d get used to it. But I wasn’t so sure about that. Again, Daisy waved away any offers to help.

  “Don’t you get to eat?” I asked her, feeling the weight of Tyler’s arm over my shoulder, his fingers playing in my hair.

  “Oh, Jesse and I eat later. Celeste usually eats with us, too, when she’s here,” Daisy assured me from the dishwasher. “I make plenty.”

  “We’ve asked her to eat with us a million times,” Sarah informed me, rolling her eyes. “She just won’t.”

  “Stubborn Daisy,” Tyler teased, and I saw color rise on Daisy’s cheeks. “She’s a part of the family, even if she won’t admit it.”

  Part of the family. That had different meaning now, I realized, looking between Tyler and Sarah. I realized, then, how hard it had to be, to keep their secret. It was hard for me, and I’d only known for a matter of hours!

  “Who wants to watch Netflix with me?” Sarah asked, looking over at me. “We still have to watch the Dexter finale.”

  “Ummm.” I hesitated, feeling Tyler’s hand on my knee under the table, the heat through the denim like fire.

  “Not tonight.” His hand moved higher up on my thigh and my spine straightened. “Dexter’ll have to wait.”

  “Daisy?” Sarah asked, giving us a knowing look that actually made me blush.

  “Sure,” Daisy agreed, clearing our plates. “I’ll make popcorn.”

  “Popcorn!” I groaned, putting a hand over my full belly. “I don’t know how you people don’t weigh four hundred pounds!”

  “We work it off.” Tyler’s hand met the apex of my thighs and I shifted in my seat, my breath catching in my throat.

  We said goodnight to Sarah and Daisy and went out of the kitchen calmly enough, but Tyler caught my eye as we reached the stairs.

  “Race you,” I said, laughing when I got a head start, but Tyler surpassed me halfway up. He stopped at the top, not even breathing hard, and reached back to grab my hands and put them around his neck.

  “Horsie ride?” I guessed, just before he hefted me onto his back. Laughing, I hung on tight, arms and legs wrapped around him as he raced down the hall. He took a left at the T and then burst into his room—our room—stopping only to lock the door behind him.

  Tyler tossed me onto the bed and I opened my arms, welcoming him on top of me as he climbed onto the mattress. It was like a second homecoming, the moment our lips touched. Tyler whispered my name, as if saying it might make it that much more real, as he unbuttoned my blouse, kissing every bit of my skin along the way.

  I knew just how he felt, though. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. My nails scraped over his scalp, down his neck, tugging at his t-shirt. He paused to peel it off and I sighed happily, running my palms over the hard ridges of his abdomen. Tyler had my bra undone, his hands cupping my breasts, mouth exploring, as I worked to unbutton his jeans.

  He shifted his hips, letting me feel how hard he was through the denim. I scratched my nails over the seam of his jeans, moaning when his mouth covered my nipple, sucking hard. There was too much material between us, too much separating his skin and mine.

  “Off,” I insisted, tugging at his jeans.

  “You first.” He slid back, his gaze sweeping over me, as he worked the button on my jeans. I slid my thumbs under the waistband and started wiggling out of them. Tyler watched with great interest as my panties came off with them, his eyes lighting up when I got them down to mid-thigh.

  “They’re stuck.” I squirmed, glancing up at him, where he was straddling my legs. “You have to move.”

  “Need some help?” He moved even further down, peeling my jeans off as he went. Then my panties, and even my socks. I pulled off my blouse and bra while he was busy doing that, leaving me completely nude on the bed.

  “Fuck, baby.” He made a little growly noise in his throat as he knelt up between my legs, taking hold of my knees and pressing them out to the sides. His gaze focused between my thighs—I’d shaved everything in the shower this time, and I was smooth as could be.

  “See something you like?” I canted my head, smiling, leaning back on my elbows.

  “I’m going to eat you alive.”

  He wasn’t kidding.

  I didn’t have time to prepare for his onslaught. One minute he was just looking, the next, he was devouring me. Tyler had shaved too—his face, that was. No more stubble. His cheeks were smooth as he buried his mouth between my thighs, tongue sliding up and down my slippery wet slit.

  “Oh, God!” I cried out when he sucked my clit between his lips, hands sliding down from my knees to the soft, sensitive skin of my inner thighs. He stroked me there, his fingers playing me lik
e a hot, writhing musical instrument, working closer and closer to my core.

  My pussy throbbed under his attention, my nipples hardening into fat, pink pebbles. I begged him not to stop when his tongue slipped lower to taste me, swirling in my juices. Then it slipped lower still, his hands rocking my hips up and back, until he had licked me from back to belly, again and again.

  It was a hot, delicious tease, until I was begging for more, more. His mouth wasn’t enough. I wanted his cock. Tyler knew it, too, but he withheld the thing I wanted. He teased me with his fingers, his tongue, sometimes grabbing my hand and pressing it against the crotch of his jeans, just to hear me moan and beg him for it.

  “Please!” I begged, rubbing my palm over the bulge in his jeans. “Oh, my fucking God, please, baby, please!”

  “You want that?” He rocked against my hand as he rubbed his wet face all over my belly. My pussy quivered with wanting him. He’d taken me to the edge again, and again, and again, until I felt as if I was continually hovering just on the verge of climax. “Tell me. Say it again.”

  “Tyyyy,” I whined, working his zipper down, aching for his cock. “How many times do you want to hear me beg?”

  “All the times.” He grinned, working his jeans down his hips.

  I groaned when his cock sprang free of his boxers and jeans as he slipped them down past his knees.

  “Please?” I bit my lip, cupping my breasts as he watched. I saw the way his eyes lit up when I tweaked my nipples. “Pretty please? With me on top?”

  “Nuh-uh.” He shook his head slowly, watching both of my hands sliding down my belly, between my thighs. I parted my pussy, showing him pink, and saw his eyes darken. “Me on top.”

  “Oh!” I gasped when he entered me, no warning, no build up, his cock sliding into me with such precise aim I was too stunned to move.

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” He whispered that into my ear, his whole body thrumming against me, like a guitar string pulled taut. “You feel so good.”

  “Oh, that’s right…” I teased him, rocking my hips and using all my muscle strength to squeeze his length. “No condom… how’s that feel?”