by Mandy Harbin
Her lips hastily brushed against his, and for the briefest moment, he hesitated. It was just long enough for her to panic and start to draw away at his rejection, but he clutched her to him, stealing her breath and taking the kiss with a guttural groan. Her insides rioted in elation and nervousness, joy and trepidation at the feel of him consuming her. His injured hand pressed against her back, forcing her flush against him. His hard cock speared into her belly as he angled his head for deeper penetration. His tongue massaged hers as his good hand tangled in her hair, directing her movements.
She should feel scared at the sudden control he exerted, but fear was not the prevailing emotion right now.
She moaned as she threaded her own fingers through his soft hair. His fist tightened his hold on her hair, and he growled into the kiss, his tongue plundering her mouth, teeth nipping at her lips.
And it still wasn’t enough.
She thrust her hips forward, rubbing herself against his cock. He grabbed her ass and forced her to do it again, groaning at the contact.
She knew she was at work and her boss could walk in at any minute, but she just couldn’t muster up a reason to care right now. She had to touch Brody. Nothing else mattered. She let one hand slip out of his hair, caress his face, and trail shamelessly down his chest to his jeans-clad cock. She rubbed it tentatively, and he kissed her harder. She squeezed it, and he stilled.
He grabbed her arms and pushed her away. His eyes were blue-black fire, eating her up as he panted, his chest heaving with effort. He stood suddenly, staring down at her with a look of lust, then panic, then what she could only describe as resolve.
“Stay away from me,” he rasped, before opening the door and stepping out, slamming it behind him.
She gasped, covering her kiss-swollen lips, staring at the closed door. Oh God, had she read him wrong? Did she just take advantage of a man, who’d done nothing but help her, because she couldn’t separate her fantasies of him from reality? Surely she wasn’t so rusty in the man department to have forgotten how to read a guy’s interest, though that really didn’t matter now.
Stay away from him? Not a problem, because after what just happened, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
Chapter Four
Mortification was a strange emotion. Xan had never fully enjoyed the benefits of this glorious feeling in all her life. Until yesterday. Standing before Brody, her heart in her hand in offering, waiting for him to caress—or even crush—it, and he just rejected her. Yeah, she got to experience being truly mortified firsthand. She pondered reasons why poets didn’t devote sonnets to the joy derived from such a sentiment.
Mortification may have been new for her, but sarcasm surely wasn’t, Xan thought as she fixed breakfast. She and sarcasm went together better than one of Elvis’ peanut butter and banana sandwiches. And was probably just as good for her. She needed to shake this uneasy feeling and forget about what happened yesterday. She had more important things to obsess about, like her ex-husband’s parole hearing. Life or death things were more important than a little lust.
Tell that to my body.
She really needed professional help. The man was obviously not interested in her, and here she was still panting over the guy as if he were dipped in Hershey’s chocolate.
Ugh. It wouldn’t even matter if he were interested. She needed to keep her priorities straight. And she would, dammit.
“Scott, breakfast’s ready!”
Her son came barreling into the kitchen as if he hadn’t eaten in days. Growing boys never seemed to get enough food in their bodies. According to her grocery bill, that was the case with Scott.
“Uh-oh. What’s wrong?” he asked as he grabbed his plate of fried eggs and bacon.
She furrowed her brow in confusion and shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing.”
He arched an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look. “You cook for dinner or when you’re upset. You obsess about food when you have something on your mind. And face it, Mom, this isn’t Lucky Charms I’m eating.”
“That’s not true.” Though she felt the lie in her response. Her son was too observant. She’d wanted to bake homemade biscuits this morning, and the only reason she hadn’t was because she didn’t have any flour. Her thoughts were all over the place, and she couldn’t get a handle on any of them. Food was her distraction, and since she didn’t want to have to grease doorways for her to walk through them, she tended to cook food instead of gorging on it. “I try to cook you breakfast at the beginning of every school year,” she continued to defend herself. “I usually don’t start slacking off until after your first week. Next week it’s Lucky Charms for you, buddy.” She laughed and he rolled his eyes, inhaling his eggs. “Did you talk to the coach?” she asked as she sat down to eat her breakfast, grasping for a subject change.
“Yeah, he wasn’t going to let me on the team since tryouts were last school year and they’ve been practicing all summer, but he let me run some drills and decided to give me a shot. I can’t miss any practices and I might be benched the first couple of games or so, but if I do good in practice, I’ll get to play. Maybe even start before the end of the season.”
“Good.” This was great news, actually. Scott loved playing football, and as much as they’ve moved around, it’d been one of the few constants in his life. Plus, it helped him make friends faster at new schools since teams fostered that brotherly connection. “Just get me your practice and game schedule, so I can make sure I’m off work.”
“Already on the fridge,” he said as he hopped up. He rinsed his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “I’ll see you tonight. I’m riding to school with Chad.”
“Okay, honey. I love you.”
“Love you too.” He paused and looked back at her. “You sure you’re okay, Mom?” He frowned.
“Yes,” she said with mock exasperation.
He nodded with a crooked smile before leaving. She could tell he didn’t quite believe her but was smart enough not to press the issue.
Xan took a deep breath as she looked unseeingly at the kitchen. She was a grown-ass woman who wasn’t even fooling her teenaged son. She needed to get it together. And she would.
Starting right now.
She grabbed her purse and got into her rental. The fact she didn’t have to be at work for almost an hour didn’t register until she was almost at the clinic. She was thinking she could just drive around to help clear her head until it was time to be at work, but then she heard a loud rumbling in the distance over the hill, distracting her from her thoughts. As the noise got closer, she saw a broad man with long blond hair tied at his nape, wearing sunglasses and driving a Harley, and her heart stopped. Brody.
The man was sex on a stick, and she just wanted to eat him up. She’d be all too happy to gorge herself on him. Where was her mortification now? And where the hell was her resolve to get her shit together? One look at him and she was a puddle of horny goo.
As he passed her, his head followed her for those brief seconds, and she could feel his blue eyes burning into her, even though she couldn’t see them. She shouldn’t have every golden fleck in his sapphire eyes memorized. Her body shook in that suspended moment in time, and all she wanted to do was pull over, rip off her clothes and jump his big, scary bones.
She watched him in her rearview mirror until he was over the next incline and out of sight.
Okay, starting now she would get her shit together.
Yeah, she was hopeless. She needed chocolate.
* * * * *
Brody watched Xan pass by, feeling like the biggest prick in the county. Why the hell had he told her to stay away from him? As if it were all her fault they were kissing. Hell, he was two seconds shy of throwing her down on the exam table and fucking her into submission. Her breathy moans and shy little hands damn near brought him to his knees. He’d never been that turned-on, that fast before. And he’d screwed up royally. A night of getting drunk couldn’t undo the fuckup at the doctor’s office.
He’d know. He had the hangover from hell to prove it.
She was getting to him on a personal level, and he didn’t understand why. All he knew was that his control was slipping, and before long, he wouldn’t be able to define the word, much less be able to exert it.
The one good thing about his visit with Jack Daniel’s last night was the realization he had to do his part to stay away from her, and that didn’t mean by telling her to stay away from him. No, he had to tell his boss he’d recognized her from his past and hope the boss man would show some understanding and forget about Brody having to get close to her. He could do his job just as efficiently by shadowing her. Well, except for last night. Fuck, he hoped Colonel didn’t have one of the other guys following him, making sure he was staying on her because the only thing he watched last night was the disappearing act of his liquor.
He parked his bike and grunted his greetings to the other guys. Roc had his nose inside the hood of a car. Bear was talking to Colonel. Gage and Hunter were standing to the side, tinkering with tools, not really doing anything, and Blade was texting, laughing and stuffing his face with the donuts Colonel usually brought in, procrastinating, the little shit.
“I need to talk to you,” Brody said as he approached the Colonel and Bear. “Alone.”
“I’ll just, yeah,” Bear mumbled, walking off, apparently not even attempting to come up with a parting excuse.
“What’s up, Brutus?”
“It’s about this plan of yours where Xan Bradley is concerned.”
Colonel narrowed his eyes. “Look, you’ve made your feelings on this known—”
“No, I haven’t. Not really. There’s a reason why I want to stay in the shadows.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. This was harder than he thought it was going to be. He shifted his weight and took a deep breath before looking at his boss again. “I-I know her, man. I mean, I remember her from my past. I just can’t place her. She hasn’t acted like she knows me, but that could just mean it hasn’t clicked for her yet. I don’t want to take the chance of her recognizing me when I don’t even know how I know her.”
Colonel took a slow breath and hiked his leg over the corner of the table he was standing beside. “I see. Well, your stubbornness makes sense. But, Brutus, you didn’t exactly have a stellar life before—”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he growled. “If I know her because of my previous line of work, then that can’t be good.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions here, son. You might remember her from when you were kids. It’s a known fact she was a foster care kid. And you… You lived a life of crime, so chances aren’t great you were born with a silver spoon. You could have crossed paths in the system as kids.”
“No.” He shook his head jerkily. “I clearly remember her dressed nicely, long hair, very polished. Granted, she seemed pretty young, but no kid in foster care would dress like that.”
“Okay,” Colonel said slowly. “But she doesn’t recognize you, and she’s the one without a brain injury here. If you had some association with her, she would recognize you. With the exception of longer hair, you don’t look much different than when I found you. Who’s to say you don’t remember her being connected to the mafia? You could’ve seen her and remembered her. She’s a beautiful woman. Maybe you just liked what you saw,” he said with a smirk.
Brody’s muscles tensed, ready to attack the bastard for…what? Saying she was beautiful? Apparently, his boss saw the anger flaring in his eyes because he scowled at him.
“You need to take it down a notch, Brutus. I’m just trying to tell you there could be any number of reasons you recognize her. Do you have any memories of actually talking to her?”
His shoulders slumped. “No.”
“Being in the same room with her?”
“No.”
“Has she said anything to you about you looking familiar to her? Or anything else that might suggest a connection?”
“No, damn it.” He rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. “I just don’t like this.”
“Tell you what.” Colonel stood and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll see what I can find out. I’m not promising anything. You’re already a ghost, but if the connection is out there, I’ll find it. In the meantime, nothing changes. I still want you watching her and getting to know her. If Marco Collins gets out, she might run, and we don’t want that. She’s less likely to do that if she thinks she can turn to you for protection. But she won’t do that if you stay in the shadows.”
Even though this didn’t go exactly like he’d wanted, the thought of Colonel finding out his connection to Xan brought Brody a sense of relief. If he could just answer that nagging question, maybe then he wouldn’t feel the need to avoid her. Because it was a need, he realized, that couldn’t easily be ignored. But he had to keep trying. He’d just have to find the strength to keep on resisting her in other ways. “Thanks, man.”
“You bet. Now that we have that out of the way, I have a job for you. Bear and I were just talkin’ about some intel we got on a possible Collins spy. Just checked into a hotel in Conway last night. His name is Dale Adams.” Colonel gave him a cold stare. “Find out what he wants.”
Meaning through any means necessary. Normally, he’d feel bad about using his muscles to get what was needed. He figured it was his conscience working overtime after the life he’d led before his accident. But if the man was here on Collins’ order, then he was here to hurt Xan and Scott, and Brody would kill the motherfucker for even thinking he could harm one hair on either of their heads. Just because he needed to avoid his siren didn’t mean he couldn’t protect her.
“Consider it done.” It’d be his pleasure. “What about Xan?”
“She’s at work, right? Roc and Bear will take turns watching her until you get back.”
He started walking toward the exit when he spotted Blade, still texting and smiling, probably chatting with some pretty little thing. The boy was a serious flirt. Brody turned back to Colonel. “I’m taking Blade.” He looked over at the man in question. “Get off your ass and make yourself useful. C’mon.” He waved him over as he continued out the door.
Blade jogged after him, pocketing his phone, then hopped into the wrecker. “We pickin’ up a car?”
“No. Doing a job.”
Blade’s eyes lit with understanding. “Ah, well, stop at the gas station so I can get some smokes.”
“You need to quit that shit. I doubt all your girlfriends like kissing an ashtray,” Brody mumbled as he backed the wrecker out and headed down the highway.
Blade smirked. “I ain’t gotta girlfriend. But I’ve had no complaints from any of my lady friends. They’ve had their mouths all over me and never once said nothin’ about an ashtray.” He gave Brody that devil-may-care smile of his.
He stifled a groan. Blade was the closest thing to a brother he had, but the man had some serious growing up to do, which was ridiculous since he wasn’t that much younger than Brody.
He pulled into the gas station, sliding out and walking into the store behind Blade, figuring he could use a cold drink since they were here anyway. He saw Blade eye the store while walking up to the cashier, but then detoured, following Brody. Probably going to grab a drink too.
Brody turned the corner and ran right into someone, smelling a womanly essence with a hint of vanilla, right before grabbing her arms reflexively to steady her. He stared down and had to stop himself from dragging her soft body up against his. Xan. Those panicked blue eyes turned sensual instantly and he bit off a moan as his dick twitched. He had more important things to worry about than his cock. Like her safety. What the fuck was she doing here? Her ass was supposed to be at work every morning, and he saw her heading that way thirty minutes ago. And now he was on his way to investigate someone who was here to hurt her while she was out dallying around the town as if she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Why aren’t you at work?” he barked before he could stop himself. He win
ced at the sound of his own hard voice, but that wasn’t his only reaction. His balls damn near shriveled when that sensual look she’d had morphed into one of fiery anger. She yanked her arms and he let her go, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans to keep from touching her.
“I had some time to kill before I had to be at work. Not that it’s any of your business,” she snapped.
He sighed, rocking on his heels and feeling like a damn idiot all over again. He wasn’t used to feeling like this. He was out of his fucking element when it came to her. “Look. I’m sorry. I just remember seeing you heading to work is all.” He shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. He didn’t need her suspecting anything, especially not the fact that her safety was an issue for him. How much of an issue, he refused to analyze. If he focused on the work aspect, he didn’t have to even think about the personal one.
She stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to stay away from you,” she said with false sweetness, and damn it if his dick didn’t get hard at her sexy little attitude. Yeah, he knew he was an ass yesterday and he needed to avoid her, but he didn’t want her thinking of him like that.
He grabbed her arm as she tried to step away. “And I’m sorry about yesterday too. I had no right to act like that. I just wasn’t prepared to deal with kissing you,” he murmured, but it didn’t matter. The male choking smirk behind him was all the proof he needed to know Blade had heard him. “Fuck,” he breathed, letting go of her arm. “I’m just sorry,” he mumbled and left the gas station without getting a drink. Real smooth, jackass. He just kept screwing up every encounter like some wet-behind-the-ears kid. He needed a drink all right. A hard one.
He waited in the wrecker for Blade, scoping out the parking lot and spotting her rental. Hell, the car she was driving was better on its worst day than her car would be on its best. It didn’t give him any incentive to get her car fixed anytime soon.
