by Cora Brent
Easton gave me the most devilish smile this side of hell. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been initiated since then. More times than I can be bothered to remember.”
“I expect you have.”
I couldn’t read his expression. The lower half of his face was in the shadows. He probably hadn’t shaved the day before. I found myself captivated by the curve of his lips, and with the fantasy of how they would feel if I licked them, touched them. I had the uneasy sense he knew what was going through my mind.
Easton decided to challenge me. His bare chest was inches away and he peered down into my face. “What would have happened, Claudia? If I’d told you then how much I wanted you?”
“Nothing,” I said firmly and it was true.
His voice was guttural, nearly a growl. “And now?”
“Nothing,” I whispered and it wasn’t true. That was why I needed to break the spell. My heart was pounding and every breath was thick. It was the raw power of desire. Nothing more. I barely knew Easton Malone. He was just a boy who’d grown up around here. But the man’s body in front of me wouldn’t be ignored. The fridge was still open and I shivered as a brief gasp of chilled air reached my skin. His boxers were thin and flimsy. When I looked down I could clearly see every inch of him pressing against the confines of the fabric. My insides twitched. A rush of tingled warmth unleashed itself between my legs.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, recognizing that I needed to hurdle toward the nearest exit immediately. I realized too late that I’d forgotten how to walk.
There was nothing to worry about though. Easton was holding onto me.
His hand circled my wrist and he spun me around as he closed the final gap between us. Before I had time to register the shocking sensation of all that hard muscle pressing against my chest, both of Easton’s hands were around my waist. He lifted me, rather roughly, onto the tiled counter beside the sink. My legs were traitors. They snaked around his body and pulled him closer. But they were only trying to do something, anything, to satisfy the throbbing chaos that commanded them.
“Dammit,” I swore and Easton smothered my objection with his tongue. He didn’t kiss slowly or tenderly. He had no interest in teasing. This was all about need. Pure animal need. I knew it. I was dizzy with it. My shirt came off, tearing slightly in the process, and was discarded somewhere in the darkness.
There was just bare skin now and it was feverish, downright crude, the way we grabbed at each other. Vaguely I was aware that the tiled countertop was cold against my flesh but that didn’t matter. The only boundaries between us were the scrap of my thong and his boxers. Easton sucked my neck and pushed my legs open wider. We were moving too fast. But that was how he wanted it and I wanted the same thing. My hands were on him, traveling down his chest and running into the waistband of his boxers, ready to explore what was inside.
“You’re gonna be so fucking good,” he groaned in my ear as he yanked his shorts down. This was happening. That was really happening. But the shift caused my back to hit the kitchen cabinets. The thump of my body against the wood was unearthly loud in the darkness. The sound jarred me enough to remember who I was, where I was, and what I was about to do.
“Easton,” I gasped, trying to push him back a little as his mouth moved to my breasts. Even though my back arched and my hands pressed against his head, urging him on, my mouth objected. “Easton, we can’t.”
“Not here,” he agreed breathlessly, picking me up. My legs were still around his waist. He headed for the door that led to the garage.
Weakly I tried to disentangle my limbs from his body. “No. Not at all.”
He paused, confused, the force of lust turning his eyes fierce. How the hell was I supposed to think when I could feel him, so hard and ready? How could I find any sanity at all with the heat of his skin so close?
“Claudia.” He hissed my name in a way that could have been either a curse or a moan.
My feet managed to find the floor and Easton released me. He was breathing hard, struggling with himself and turning away for a few seconds as his hand raked through his sandy hair. He turned suddenly and fixed me with a knowing, baleful glare.
“You want it,” he accused.
Easton had pulled his shorts back up but I was naked. Except for my thong I didn’t have a shred of clothing on. If anyone found us like this, the word ‘awkward’ wouldn’t begin to cover the mood. My shirt was nowhere in sight and I wasn’t too keen on rooting around the corners of the dark kitchen. So I took the only immediate option. I snatched a nearby sunflower patterned dishtowel, flattened it over my naked chest and scurried away, leaving Easton and his colossal dick behind.
Once I was back in my room I went directly to my suitcase and hurriedly found a shirt and shorts to safely cover myself. Finally I heard the distinct click of the door as Easton returned to the garage apartment and I felt like I could breathe normally again. I wasn’t cold at all but I wrapped myself in the old bed comforter and tucked it around my body. I thought about Easton, remembering the touch of his tongue, imagining the hard weight of him on top of me. And then I remembered his stark accusation in the darkness.
“You want it.”
“You’re right,” I whispered and shut my eyes, resolving to forget.
CHAPTER TEN
JACK
Jack didn’t know what time it was. He didn’t care. Anya was lying naked across his chest, tracing hearts on his skin with her finger. Once they’d arrived at their hotel room, they headed straight for the bed and had barely left it since then. Jack had scarcely closed the door before he started to strip her clothes off. Anya was ready for him, like always. There was nothing he loved more than to watch her writhing underneath him and he gave it to her slow, building toward the inevitable end that made her shut her eyes and grasp his arms as she tried to stifle the sound of her pleasure.
“Let it out baby,” he would beg and finally she would moan aloud and give herself over to him completely. Only when he felt every spasm of her body subside would he yield to the rising tide and unleash himself. Goddamn, but being inside her was sweeter every time. He’d never known anything like it.
Jack heard Anya’s breathing turn deep and even. He drifted in and out of sleep himself at times, listening to the faint tumult of the casino and thinking about how he was holding his wife in his arms. His wife! The word made him smile so he allowed it to cross his mind constantly.
Anya Giordano sighed in her sleep and Jack held her delicate body closer. He must have held too tightly because she stirred awake. She propped her chin on his chest and stared at him for a long time.
“I’m hungry,” she finally said.
“I can feed you,” he smiled and moved her hand low.
Anya swatted at him. He loved shocking her. It was easy. It was hot.
Jack rolled over on top of her and she eagerly closed her legs around him. They always fit together perfectly. Jack was so hard he couldn’t stand it, even though he should have been worn out by this time. He was on the verge of entering her when she shrank back suddenly.
“Wait,” she gasped, pushing back on his chest.
Jack frowned. “Come on, baby. We’re married. That’s a risk we can take.”
Her eyes turned accusing. “We talked about this.”
She was right. They had talked about it. Anya was afraid of getting pregnant. She was terrified of passing on the genetic defect that would shorten her own life, as it had shortened her mother’s.
Reluctantly, Jack slid on a condom. Life was risky sometimes. He knew that. Sure, he’d screwed tons of women. But he’d been scrupulously careful about it for twenty-three years, ever since the one mistake, the one that couldn’t really be called a mistake because in the end it had created Claudia. But he’d never had a desire for more children. Not for a minute. Now he wanted nothing so badly as to share the creation of a life with Anya, to feel their child growing inside her.
“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, kissing her. “I love
you.”
“I know,” she answered and she gave him the most brilliant smile ever to grace this green earth. He made love to her slowly, gently, until she was at the point where she threw back her head and bit her lip.
“Say it,” he commanded and started to go harder.
“I love you, Jack!” She cried out and clutched him, moaning and trembling as he went faster, harder, knowing that would make her climax more intense. And then, when her gasps lessened and their sweaty bodies moved together as one, he came, pushing inside impossibly deep and filling the condom.
They panted in one another’s arms for a while, letting their hands roam tiredly over slick skin. Then Anya abruptly sat up on her knees and smirked.
“I’m still hungry.”
Jack reached for the phone beside the bed. “And as your husband, it’s my duty to provide for you.”
He dialed room service and ordered two filet mignons. When the food arrived they sat on the floor, wrapped in sheets, and ate with gusto. Anya reached for her phone and squinted.
“It’s six o’clock.”
“AM or PM?”
Anya took a sip of wine. “PM. Haven’t heard anything from East.”
“Why would you? Boy should have the sense not to bug us on our honeymoon.”
Anya twisted a strand of hair around her finger. It was a habit of hers, an adorable one. “I hope everything’s okay at the house. You want to check and see if there are any messages from Claudia?”
“No.” The mention of his daughter made Jack’s stomach do a little flip. Not because he dreaded talking to her, seeing her. He desperately wished they had the kind of relationship where they just picked up the phone and chatted about shit like sports and politics or whatever the hell men talked about with their grown children. He’d sweated it out for two days before he called her to break the news about his wedding plans. And then she’d said so little in response that he couldn’t tell if she even cared.
“Claudia’s fine,” he said. “Whatever comes up she can handle it.”
Anya nodded. “I left a list of Papa’s medications. And if she has any trouble she can ask East.”
“You really think your brother would know what to do about Papa’s meds?”
“No,” she laughed, then bit her lip and blushed. “Hey, did you catch the way they looked at each other?”
“Who?”
“Who?” Anya mimicked him. She kicked at him lightly with her bare foot. “Claudia and Easton. He had a thing for her when he was a kid. He thinks I don’t know that.”
“Well he better have gotten the hell over it now that he’s a man.”
Anya was thinking, chewing a bite of steak slowly before swallowing. “I wouldn’t be shocked if the two of them hooked up, that’s all.”
The idea was distasteful to Jack. He felt a sudden flash of anger toward his young brother-in-law. He hoped Claudia wasn’t that foolish. She shouldn’t let some little prick who thought god’s gift to women lived in his pants get anywhere with her.
“No fucking chance of that,” he growled.
Anya clapped her hands together. “Oh no, you’re mad!” Her eyes twinkled.
“No way,” Jack said irritably. “I’m not mad.” He wasn’t, not really. But all of a sudden he kept picturing the youthful Mr. Malone in the throes of some horrible, unsightly ailment. Chicken pox maybe. Poison ivy. Something that would wipe his disgraceful good looks right off the map for a little while. Maybe he should shoot Rocco a text and order him to look in on things at the house.
“Hey,” Anya said, sliding over and settling right into his lap. “I’m just teasing. Easton may moon around with some puppyish infatuation but that’s as far as it’s likely to go.” She reached over and picked Jack’s fork off his plate, spearing a bite of steak. “Eat your food and quit snarling.”
Jack was ready to cooperate. He didn’t want to think about Easton right now. Or Claudia. Or, more specifically, Easton and Claudia. He just wanted to enjoy his wife and stay here with her in this private world as long as possible.
Anya grinned when he opened his mouth to accept the bite of steak. She pulled the fork back a few inches.
And then dropped it.
The silverware fell onto the carpet, innocently waiting to be retrieved. Jack didn’t know at first why a bolt of terror careened through his belly. Then he saw Anya staring at her own hand. She opened and closed her fingers, a look of confusion on her face. For a split second the mood had completely altered. Then Anya laughed and grabbed the fork off the ground. She plucked the piece of meat off with her fingers and popped it into Jack’s mouth.
“There,” she said.
Jack chewed twice and swallowed. Anya was wearing a sheet toga-style. Impatiently he pushed the fabric away and stared at the beauty of her body.
“No,” he demanded “here.” He pulled her against him for a long kiss.
Anya wrapped her arms around his shoulders and straddled him, returning his kiss with passion. They stayed like that for a long time, just kissing. Jack didn’t ever want to stop. He didn’t ever want to let go of her.
And so he wouldn’t. As long as his arms still functioned enough to wrap around her soft body, nothing could make him let go.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EASTON
What the hell was I supposed to do now?
Was I supposed to look at her casually across the breakfast table and pretend we hadn’t nearly fucked?
Claudia seemed to think so. Two entire days had passed since we’d gotten busy all over the Giordano kitchen and that girl was cool as the north Atlantic.
“Could you pass the orange juice, please?” she asked sweetly as she mixed Papa’s meds into a bowl of applesauce.
“Of course,” I answered and pushed the plastic bottle across the table. I had the urge to shove it roughly with the hope that it would spill into her lap, not because I was trying to be a dick but because I wanted to see her tits get wet.
Instead I shoved a spoonful of raisin bran into my mouth and shifted in my chair because my nuts were fucking killing me. She was killing me. Death by blue balls. I’d have to look that up. I bet it existed.
Not that Claudia cared. She neatly deposited Papa’s bowl in front of him and gathered a tiny bit of applesauce on the spoon.
Papa apparently didn’t feel like being pampered by his great-granddaughter. He grabbed the spoon right out of her hand and applesauce ended up flying right off and landing on the ugly wallpaper above the sink.
“Cut the shit,” he scowled and proceeded to eat by himself.
I laughed. Claudia glared. She kicked me underneath the table. If Papa hadn’t been sitting there I probably would have taken the crack in Claudia’s armor as a good sign and tried to get a feel going on.
But she primly pushed back from the table and took her cereal bowl to the sink. She wore a denim skirt that should have been a little shorter. Still, I had a good time staring at her ass while she washed dishes. That ass had felt pretty spectacular being squeezed in my hands. I wanted to squeeze it again. I wanted to do a lot of things.
Papa interrupted my nice daydream about Claudia’s body. He sounded cheerful. “How would you kids like to go to the beach today?”
“Huh?”
“Don’t forget your pails and shovels this time,” Papa said happily. “Once my brother Joe and I dug a ten by ten hole down at Jones Beach. It would have filled with water when the tide came in. Patrol came along and made us fill it.”
Claudia was confused. “You want to go to the beach?”
“I want to go to the beach,” I said, already envisioning her in a bikini. One of those stringy ones that didn’t require a good imagination. “I’ll even drive,” I offered.
“I can drive,” said Papa with confidence.
“I’ll drive,” argued Claudia. She hadn’t even looked over at me.
“Your car is in Arizona,” I reminded her.
Finally I received a direct stare. I was being swallowed by C
laudia’s dark eyes. She didn’t even blink. “Jack gave me the keys to the Chevelle.”
“You kids be ready in ten minutes,” said Papa in a clear voice. He rose from the table and ambled down the hall. “Tell Estelle to keep her damn boobs inside her shirt this time. She’s not twenty-two no more.”
I waited until I heard Papa’s door close. “Estelle is…”
“My grandmother,” Claudia finished as she folded a dishtowel. “His daughter-in-law. He never liked her.”
“Does anyone?”
Claudia stopped folding the dishtowel. She leaned against the sink and laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“You think Papa really wants to go to the beach?”
She rubbed her eyes. “I think Papa’s probably already forgotten all about it and is taking a nap.”
I stood up. I carried my dishes over to the sink. Claudia didn’t move when my arm brushed against hers.
“We could still go,” I said quietly. Her hair smelled like flowers. But in a sexy way. Sexy fucking flowers that she rolled her naked body in just so she would smell good enough to tempt my dick.
She was thinking. I figured she would say no. She would use Papa as an excuse or say she needed to go outside and weed the tomato garden. Or maybe she would just tell me yet again that I was a kid even as she walked away from me all stiff-legged because her pussy was still throbbing from the other night.
But Claudia surprised me again. “All right,” she said quietly, looking at the floor.
After I looked in on Papa to confirm that he was indeed sleeping, I stopped in the garage to throw on some swim trunks. Claudia had disappeared briefly but when I returned to the kitchen she was standing there with a frown. And goddammit, she was not wearing a string bikini. In fact she hadn’t changed at all.
