by M. S. Parker
He shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a romantic.”
“Yeah, well, I've seen what happens when people follow their traitorous, easily deceived heart.”
“They get to be with the person they love?”
I set my fork down. I wasn't hungry anymore. “They get their hearts ripped out and stomped on by size thirteens.”
My chest tightened as I thought of the women I knew who'd followed their hearts, who'd gone after the men they loved. My grandmother had loved Chauncey Manning, but he'd walked away from her and my mother. My parents had gotten married when my mom had gotten pregnant, but they loved each other, and my father had been there for me up until his death. He hadn't chosen to leave us, but his absence still hurt my mom, even after all these years.
Todd's hand closed over mine. “Hon, take it from me. If you don't at least see what this might be with Dax, you'll regret it. Maybe nothing will come of it. And, yeah, maybe your heart gets broken, but isn't that better than not knowing?”
Silence fell again, but this time, I was in no rush to break it. Todd had given me a lot to think about before I met Dax tonight.
Chapter Three
Dax
I wasn't a monk, but until today, I'd never gotten dressed for a date. Even when I had casual flings where I'd been with a girl for more than one or two nights, I didn't really date. Hell, I could count on one hand the number of women I'd taken to get something to eat. Most of the time, I either found someone at work or had them meet me there, then we'd go back to her place and fuck.
I didn't take anyone home with me.
The types of girls I had sex with weren't anyone I wanted near my mother. They were generally loud, both in personality and appearance. Trashy clothes. Tattoos. And almost all of them had piercings, generally in some pretty sensitive places. I'd had more blow jobs from girls with tongue studs than without.
Most were chicks who came into the shop, looking to be fucked by someone like me. Every so often, I'd find someone at Club Privé who was more interested in the help than the patrons, but even then it was never one of the classy members. It was usually someone who'd managed to wrangle a visit, thinking they wanted something the club had to offer. Some of them came back to the club once or twice, but that was always with some important member who probably wouldn't have wanted to know that they were getting my sloppy seconds.
I frowned at my reflection, but I wasn't sure if I was frowning because I knew my mother would've beaten my ass if she'd known how I was with women. She'd taught me how to treat women, and I'd always been respectful to her. I'd just never met another woman I felt deserved to be treated that well. Okay, Carrie Manning did. She was a good person, and her friends were decent too. If a woman my age who was like them ever wanted to be with me, she would be someone I could introduce to my mom.
Thing was, as I looked at the stranger in the mirror, I had a feeling that Bryne was the sort of woman Mom would actually like. She was down-to-earth and knew what she wanted. Didn't take shit from anyone, including me, and she was smart, respected herself. She looked good but didn't act like it made her better than anyone else.
I couldn't say that I'd never met anyone like her before, because I had. I'd just never had someone like her give me a second look.
I took a slow breath and reminded myself that she hadn't just given me a second look. She'd gone to bed with me. Twice. And unless I was wrong about what happened between us last night, she'd meet me at the club tonight. Once might've been slumming it. Twice, not so much. If she showed up at Club Privé, it would mean that fucking me wasn't just something she'd decided to try out.
When I came into the living room, I was surprised to see my mom sitting on the couch rather than already being in her room like she usually was by this time. The injuries she'd gotten at work were healed, but she'd be doing rehab and getting her strength back for at least another six months. She hated how tired she felt all the time, but I kept telling her that she needed to take it slow. She was my only family, and I'd come too close to losing her. I wouldn't let that happen again.
I pushed those thoughts out of my head as I smiled at her. “You need anything before I go?”
We looked a lot alike, Mom and me. Same dark hair color that she insisted was cocoa brown. Her eyes were darker blue while mine, she contended, were cobalt. But we shared enough of the same features that I wondered if I had any of my dad in me at all.
“You look awfully dressed up for work.”
She looked tired, but she didn't miss anything.
“New jeans.”
The look she gave me told me that she knew I was deflecting. “You didn't come home last night.”
“I did.” I opted for a half-truth. “You were asleep already.”
Again, that knowing look.
“I have to go, Mom.” I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Don't tire yourself out too much.”
“You either.”
I could hear the smile and knew that I'd never be able to fool her. She'd always known me so well. I closed the door behind me, locked both it and the deadbolt. We didn't live in the worst neighborhood, but it wasn't the best either.
I took the subway to Club Privé and wondered if Bryne would be there when I arrived. My fingers drummed on my knee as I waited for my stop. Nervous energy raced through me. I'd never felt anything like it.
Actually, that wasn't exactly true, I realized. The first time I'd seen Bryne, I felt a similar excitement. Every time I was with her, I felt like I was holding a live wire. Something about her made me feel more alive than I'd ever felt.
It was dangerous, what I was doing. Dangerous for me...and for Bryne.
My hand curled into a fist at the thought of anyone hurting Bryne, and I got to my feet, unable to stay seated. I couldn't think that way, think of all the ways this could go sideways. Hell, I didn't even know what this was, and I didn't want to take too much on when, for all I knew, Bryne could've decided that I wasn't worth it.
If I'd been in her position, I would've written me off.
I had to take it one step at a time, keep reminding myself that I could still live in the moment without planning how I would keep her from getting too attached. I didn't want to even think about making sure I wasn't the one getting attached. It couldn't happen. I wouldn't let it.
The war inside me continued all the way to the club, making me second-guess my decision to do this whole dinner thing. As the front of Club Privé came into view, I almost turned around and walked away, almost convinced myself that it would be better for both of us if I stood her up and left things broken between us.
And then I saw those wild curls, and that short, curvy body, and I knew I couldn't walk away. Not yet anyway. I had to get inside her again.
“You got my note.” I mentally kicked myself for not coming up with a better greeting.
“I did.” She smiled up at me and linked her arm through mine. “So, where are we going to eat?”
“What are you in the mood for?” Even as I asked the question, I hoped that she wouldn't name some pricey five-star restaurant. The few women I'd taken to dinner had been fine with me picking a fairly inexpensive place, mostly because they'd assumed I'd find someone else if they complained. They were right.
Bryne was different.
“Anywhere that's not outside is fine with me.” She flashed another smile. “Though I'd prefer no fast food.”
“I think I can manage that.” I held out a hand to hail a taxi. No way was I going to have her riding the subway.
I gave the driver an address as I slid inside, then wrapped my arm around Bryne when she settled next to me. It surprised me how natural the gesture felt, more like she belonged there rather than I was pulling her in to try to cop a feel. As we rode in silence, dozens of questions kept creeping up in my brain, most of them about why I was taking Bryne to my mother's favorite restaurant. I'd never taken anyone there before, and a part of me warned that I was taking this thing with Bryne too far.
When I saw the delight on her face when she walked inside the little family-owned restaurant, my doubts retreated. The entire place was strung with clear Christmas lights, sending unique shadows playing against the old brick walls. A handful of people were seated around the dining room, and a few glanced our way as a familiar middle-aged redhead approached.
“Dax!” Addison beamed at me. “It's been too long! How's your mom?”
“Better.” I put my hand on the small of Bryne's back and wished she wasn't wearing a winter coat. I didn't like the extra layers between us. “Addison, this is Bryne. Bryne, Addison here owns the place.”
“It's beautiful,” Bryne said sincerely as she held out her hand.
“Thank you.” Addison picked up two menus and gestured for us to follow her. “My grandfather started it when he was twenty, and it's been in my family ever since.”
Bryne shrugged off her coat, revealing an off-the-shoulder fitted sweater to go with her form-hugging jeans. I gave her a heated look as she sat down, and a faint blush stained her cheeks. The fact that she blushed instead of acting like she deserved the attention made me wonder how stupid the other men she'd dated had been.
Not that we were dating.
“You and your mom come here?” she asked.
I nodded. “She and Addison went to school together, and we'd come by every few weeks.”
She opened the menu. “Then you should know what's best to eat.”
As I started to go through my favorites, I realized how much I wanted her to like it here. Despite my resolve to keep things in the friendship zone – hopefully with benefits – I couldn't seem to stop myself from wanting more. I knew I'd have to deal with it sooner or later, but I wasn't going to do it now. Right now, I planned to enjoy a meal with a beautiful woman.
I wished Bryne and I could've gone to Club Privé, even if only to dance, but I'd used up the little bit of extra cash I had on dinner, and I wasn't about to let Bryne know that I couldn't afford a cover charge or drinks. That meant our choices were limited, so I just said we were going to a club that was closer. A friend of mine was the doorman there, so we wouldn't have to wait in line.
“You have a lot of friends,” she commented as we started to walk.
I shrugged. Friend might've been too strong a word for most of the people I knew. Addison was one, but there were very few others. More like acquaintances with mutual interests. This particular one was Georgie's cousin, but I wouldn’t tell Bryne that. She hadn't really said much about the guys from the shop, but I didn't need her to say a word to know that she definitely didn't like Georgie.
The music was blaring so loud that we could hear the bass before the door even opened, but I didn't mind. We'd talked over dinner. Now, I wanted to get physical. I tossed our coats towards another of Georgie's cousins, then grabbed Bryne's hand and pulled her toward the dance floor.
I put one hand on her hip, and we started to move. We found the rhythm easily enough, and she didn't protest when I moved closer. There were bodies all around us, brushing against us as we danced, but hers was the only one I was aware of. Aware didn't even seem to be a strong enough word, but it was the only one I could think of that got even close.
Her breasts brushed against me, and my erection pressed painfully against my zipper. Out of necessity – I hadn't done laundry in almost two weeks – I was going commando tonight, but now I was starting to think that had been a bad idea.
She turned around, pulling my arm with her so that my hand rested on her hipbone. Air hissed from between my teeth as she pushed her ass back against my crotch. The look she threw over her shoulder told me that she knew exactly what she was doing to me. My fingers dug into her, and I wished she'd worn a dress tonight. I would've made her regret teasing me.
I clenched my jaw as new images assaulted me. Sliding my hand up her bare leg, moving under her skirt, and then over her panties. Cupping her over soft fabric and feeling how wet she was for me. Slipping my hand beneath the waistband, fingers skimming through curls before dipping between dripping folds.
The thought of fingering her to climax right here on the dance floor was too much. I needed to see her come.
Now.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her after me. I'd never worked here, but I'd been here often enough that no one thought twice about me pushing open the door that said “Employees Only” like I owned the place. The hallway was dimly lit, the red exit sign glowing from the end, but I wasn't going that far. The first door on the right led to the basement where the alcohol was kept. The second was the manager's office. The only door on the left, however, was a janitor's closet. Not exactly romantic, but I didn't care.
I turned on the light, did a quick sweep of the small space, then reached over Bryne to shut the door. Her body pressed against me as I took her mouth. Her tongue slid across mine without any hesitation, her nails lightly scratching the back of my neck. I grabbed her ass with one hand, the other fisting her hair. I maneuvered her until the back of her boots bumped against the wooden pallet I'd seen.
I tore my mouth away, her sound of protest sending heat coursing through me. I spun her around and ordered, “Up.”
A look of confusion flitted across her face, followed quickly by understanding. Even with heeled boots, she was still a lot shorter than me. The quickest way for this to happen was from behind, and for that, she needed to be standing on something.
I dug a condom out of my wallet and freed my dick. Even as I put the rubber on, Bryne was pushing her jeans and underwear down her thighs. I muttered a curse under my breath as she bared her ass. I usually prided myself on my staying power, but I wasn't going to last long. Not with her leaning forward, wiggling her hips in a blatant invitation.
I moved behind her and ran my hand between her legs. A shiver went through her, and my fingers came away wet. Everything in me was screaming to just slam into her, but I remembered how tight she was, and knew that without foreplay, I'd hurt her.
That didn't mean I had to be gentle.
I pushed two fingers inside her, my cock twitching as she made a strangled sound. I pumped them in quick, twisting strokes, stretching her as much as I could with the limited space and time we had.
I leaned down to bite her earlobe before saying, “This is the perfect position to fuck your ass.” Her muscles clenched around my fingers. “Have you ever had a cock there?”
She shook her head, and my stomach tightened at the thought of getting to take that cherry. Not right now though. I'd want her to enjoy it, and that meant preparation. She wasn't like other girls I'd been with who would take me with little more than some lube and a word.
“We'll put that on the to-do list.” I pulled my fingers out of her pussy and reached around her. She didn't even wait for me to tell her to clean them, her tongue darting out to get two licks in before I slid them into her mouth.
The head of my cock brushed against her, and as I moved my hand from her mouth to her hair, she pushed her ass back toward me. She let out a soft cry as I drove into her, filling her with one thrust. Her pussy was almost painfully tight, but I didn't wait. Hell, I wasn't sure I could. I wrapped one arm around her waist and kept the other in her hair, holding her in place as I started to move.
My strokes were short, each one going as deep as I could, wanting to reach every last inch until I owned her body. I wanted to make sure I banished every other partner from her mind, that mine was the only touch she wanted. I wanted to ruin her for other men. I was already half sure that she'd ruined me.
I yanked her back by her hair, earning another of those hot little yelps she'd been making. I pulled her head to the side and pressed my mouth against the place where her shoulder and neck met. The pressure building inside me was intense, and I knew I was close. I just needed to get her there first. As I dropped the hand on her waist down between her legs, I sucked on her skin hard enough to leave a mark. She cried out my name when I bit down, then swore when my fingers found her clit.
I'd barely begun to rub her before she came unglued. Her body stiffened, every muscle tensing as she came. I pushed myself hard inside her, my fingers still moving over her swollen clit until she came again. She shuddered, and the sensation of her muscles rippling around my cock pushed me over the edge.
We stood there for a minute as we came down, our bodies still joined, the only sound in the room our ragged breathing. I couldn't look away from the mark I'd left on her neck, unable to tell myself that I'd gotten carried away. Even if I hadn't admitted it to myself at the time, I knew that a deep and primal part of me had wanted to mark her, to let everyone else know that she was mine.
I closed my eyes even as my arm tightened around her waist. What was this woman doing to me?
Chapter Four
Bryne
New York City had something in the water that turned me into someone completely different than I’d been in DC. That had to be it. After all, it was the only reasonable explanation for why I was pulling up my pants after having had sex in a janitor's closet. Sex with the man who'd taken my virginity when he'd been little more than a stranger. A dangerous-looking stranger with tattoos all over his arms and torso. And I couldn't forget his nipple piercing. Not when I still wanted to see what would happen if I used my tongue to play with it.
Fuck. I wanted him again.
“Ready?”
I looked over at Dax, who was holding out a hand to me, his expression impassive. I took his hand but didn't say anything as we walked back out into the club. I wasn't going to over think this, whatever this was. I’d simply accept the fact that my entire body was still tingling from an almost brutal orgasm.
I hadn't read a whole lot in the romance department, but in one book, I remembered reading a sentence that used the phrase “wrung an orgasm out of her.” I understood that wording now. Dax hadn't hurt me, but he definitely hadn't been gentle either.
