by L. A. Banks
“So, lady, what do you wanna do?” the mysterious male standing in her hallway said in a low, sensual tone, cocking his head to the side.
For a moment she couldn’t move. There were two ways she could answer his question. Embarrassment singed her as her body tried to respond, swelling the valley between her thighs. Her face was hot. It had been so long. Celibacy was kicking her natural ass. Raw, animal sensuality oozed from the man’s pores, with an indefinable undercurrent of danger.
Why didn’t Leonora tell her about this hunk, when she’d been starving for two years while battling an asshole husband? Brick was going to help her right a serious wrong, in a way that was just and non-violent…but there was also a look in his eyes that said he wasn’t above a little emotional-even-the-score comeuppance, if she needed him to make love to her. It was written all over his face, the question: do you wanna? For the first time in way too long, someone had her back—even if she’d had to pay dearly for the privilege. Still. She wasn’t totally alone.
Brick opened his hands in a gesture of impatience. “The shirt—sometime tonight?”
“Oh, yes, my apologies,” she said quickly, wrenching her thoughts away from the carnal. “I…I just was wondering how you got in here. Frankly, it made me nervous,” she said, going toward the steps.
He watched her retreating form, the way her lovely ass sashayed up the wide, curved staircase. The snide remark he’d lobbed at her was designed to get her to move and move fast before the wolf in him started to growl. He could already feel a sense of territorial imperative stirring within him. Females in distress always did that to him. It was the way she was looking at him. He could see the need for her to settle the score with her trifling husband on several different levels etched deep inside her wide brown eyes. Yeah, no problem. For this sweet beauty, he’d gladly oblige. But Leonora said that wasn’t part of the package, and Sidney seemed like a woman that would make him mess around and bite her. Not good. She didn’t need to catch the Lupine madness from him.
Brick glanced at the moon through the double-high Pella windows in the foyer, glad that it wasn’t yet full. Leonora should have warned him—and being a female that had a propensity for other females, Leonora knew fine when she saw it. This Sidney female had caught him way off-guard. She was good-Gawd fine and had started to warm in his presence. He could smell swollen, wet female anywhere. His mind was bouncing off the crown molding and eighteen foot ceilings…he wondered when the last time had been for her, given she was married to a complete idiot.
“Seriously,” she called down to him from the floor above, “how’d you get in?”
“The big oak outside the west end of the house. Need to get trimmers to cut some of the larger branches back from the windows as a security measure,” he called out from where he stood.
He didn’t bother to tell her that it was highly unlikely any average human male could hit that upper limb he’d used from a running jump, let alone a standing power leap, or even reach the distance from the branch to her window with enough remaining upper body strength to hang on with one hand and open the window and then flip in. But the lady needed some kind of explanation so she could sleep at night.
Besides, it was time to get out of here. He could feel all sorts of impressions making the hair on the back of his neck bristle. Heat trails soon became visible within the darkened space; he could see them like summer heat waves rising off asphalt, the hue crimson, emotions embedded within every band. Sidney Coleburn-West’s tears. Cruel laughter. Shady deals. A bewildered woman. It didn’t make any sense!
Brick dragged his fingers across his close-cropped hair and shook his head, forcing his canines not to lengthen. Why was it that some brothers had it all, but were such fuck-ups?
He peered up the stairs, hoping his new client would hurry. He would have given his eye-teeth for a normal life like this; a good wife, plush home, solid community rep, cash flow, the ability to have normal kids…Brick’s eyes narrowed in the darkness. Leonora had told him all about it, had given him the female play-by-play as she’d begged him to take on her best friend’s private case. Normally, he didn’t do private matters like this—strictly corporate and municipal side deals—that way there was never anything personal involved. Now he was half sorry he’d relented, because Leonora didn’t tell him how fine Sidney Coleburn-West would be, or how honest she’d smell, or how her soft, vulnerable scent would fill his nose and make him wanna howl…or that she’d been faithful, hadn’t been touched during the two year divorce drama. Yet, now that he was here, he could smell it.
Sidney’s footsteps brought him out of his thoughts as she came to the top of the landing.
“Mostly everything has been laundered and boxed from the cleaners or under plastic. That’s the thing…he lives here on a legal basis to keep his ability to come and go as he pleases, but he doesn’t live here.” Her voice held a shaky quality of repressed rage and humiliation. “That’s why I’d asked you to come as discreetly as possible and leave fast, because I never know when he’ll come in or if he’s having me trailed by a detective.” She let out an exasperated breath. “That’s all I’d need, would be for him to accuse me with having an affair, on top of everything else, when I’ve been a Girl Scout.”
Sidney walked down a few steps and then stopped, as though afraid to come any closer to him. “Leonora told me you rarely meet and do business in public, so, I figured a brief meeting here so you could get whatever you needed could work, but…” She suddenly let out another ragged sigh. “All I found was an old brush and comb set. I don’t know if you work with dogs, bloodhounds, or whatever, but—”
“The brush will do,” Brick said, alighting the stairs in one fluid lope. He held out his hand, she tossed the brush down to him and he caught it with a quick grab. “That’s enough, and I’ve seen the old wedding photos Leonora had. I know what he looks like, where he works, his favorite watering holes, and now I know what’s at stake.” He glanced at Sidney, his hot gaze traveling up and down her body and then he caught himself, and tore his gaze away. “My dogs will be on it. We’ll find the rat bastard, where he hangs his hat at night, and what he does, who he does. We’ll get it all on tape. No problem.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, breathing out the words and beginning to twist the bottom edge of her sweater with nervous hands.
He definitely had to go. Brick began walking toward the front door. The breathy, sad resonance of Sidney Coleburn-West’s voice had given him wood.
Chapter Two
* * *
Sidney stared at the front door for a long time. She’d watched it open and quietly close, and had witnessed an imposing presence gracefully glide through it with the stealth of a wolf. Whew…
She rubbed her hands down her face and quickly dashed down the stairs to turn on all the exterior flood lights and porch lights, double-checking every door and setting the alarm before going back upstairs.
But she stopped at her second floor office and peered at the wide-open window, studying the two-hundred year old oak tree beyond it. Pure amazement washed over her. Damn…if he could do that. It looked like an impossible divide, though? The nearest branch to the ground was something like twenty-five to thirty feet up…how in the hell? Too many questions battered her brain as she quietly closed the window, latched it, and made a mental note to call a tree surgeon in the morning.
Crisp fall air made her want a fire, even though building one always brought on the blues. She paused at what was now only her bedroom door and stared at the impressive mantle and fireplace. This was where she and Douglass were supposed to make love and make beautiful children. This was supposed to be their sanctuary. Now it was an abandoned place with a deadbolt lock on the door so he couldn’t come in and possibly bug it while she was out—or come into her bedroom to start any crap while she was asleep. His mock living quarters were down the hall. She’d spent a mint checking and rechecking for electronic listening devices. Maybe he’d given up, as none were ever fo
und. Paranoia was rife; his clear goal to make her lose her mind and break her spirit.
She didn’t bother turning on the light as she entered the bedroom and simply disrobed in the dark, flinging her clothes to a nearby chair. Her body ached for a hug as she pulled her pastel pink chemise over her head and stepped into her lacy pajama boxers. She knew her way around the room by heart, blind. Nothing moved, and everything stayed the same; it was only her rattling around in the huge house…maybe she should sell it. In fact, she would, she told herself, as she slid beneath the soft white cotton linens and goose down comforter. That is, if Douglass would ever stop fighting her for it and would stop arguing over his so-called interest in it. But she’d bought this before they were even married as an investment property! Every piece of furniture in it was an heirloom handed down to her from her family. He had no right to take what her relatives had left her. Greedy SOB.
Sidney punched the pillows behind her and sank against them, trying to keep her focus on the moon beyond the large, leaded-beveled glass windows. Her eyes had adjusted to the shadows and she could make out most of the images in the room that were now bathed in blue-gray. Leaves from the trees made moving patterns against the sheer curtains as the fall wind blew. It was so pretty, so serene when the house was still. Once winter set in, the snow was gorgeous…that first pristine snowfall always did her in.
Yet as quickly as the peaceful thought swept over her, melancholy chased it away. The snow piled high outside, wood burning in the fireplace, brandy spiked hot chocolate, a lover’s kiss, sweet and slow…that’s what was supposed to fill this house, this home. Fall leaves burning in the yard, laughter. Spring flowers budding and beautiful, color-rich azaleas, the smell of fresh mowed grass, and sitting out on the deck with ice cold wine, planning a future together.
Isolation crushed in on her, making the comforter feel like a sarcophagus. Deafening silence smothered her. She glimpsed the clock but refused to wake up any of her friends at this unreasonable hour. Everybody had to get up and go to work the next day. She had to cope. Period. Obviously, the only reason she was tripping was because a tall, fine, male specimen had entered her home and that had triggered her memory of what it was like to want and be wanted. Under normal circumstances, she didn’t even give those types of feelings a second thought. She was done with men for the time being. She focused on her career, her commitments, her friends, her social responsibilities, anything and everything but how robbed she felt…or the hole Douglass had left in her life.
“Brick.” The random thought leapt out of nowhere. She said his name with a sigh. Sidney shook her head and laughed quietly as she snuggled further under the covers. What kinda crazy nickname was that? A man named Brick, of all things, was gonna bring Douglass West down, just like the NBA players he managed. It was always something stupid, something from around the old neighborhood that was the Achilles’ heel. Dang, what, besides his fabulous body, led to Brick being given that name? She could only imagine.
Her mind on fire, Sidney let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes, hating that her body had begun to warm again at the mere thought of the sexy mystery man that had appeared in her hallway. Mentally she stripped away his jacket and then his shirt. A slight shiver claimed her as she wondered what his chest would feel like, or how his tight nipples would feel beneath her palms. She swallowed hard as her own nipples tightened at the thought. Was he the silent type in bed, all steel jaw and control, or a howler? she wondered, allowing her fingertips to gently circle her breasts.
A stinging ache deep within her canal opened her thighs and brought her thumbs to slowly flick at the overly sensitive tips of her breasts. Her mind fastened upon his mouth while drawing out the sweet agony of pleasuring herself. Tonight she wanted it to last, rather than to have it be a quick and feral release.
Beneath the thicket of covers, she eased her chemise over her distended skin, allowing the silk to graze it in a gentle sweep. A quiet moan escaped her lips, and she hastened to lick her thumbs, and then brought them back beneath the covers to tease her nipples.
The sensation of wetness against the angry, pebbled surfaces made her arch and lift her hips. Hot liquid seeped between her engorged folds and slid down the crack of her butt, causing her plump slit to throb. Unable to withstand the building sensation, one hand slowly traveled down her abdomen, while the other continued to tease her breast, her mind fixated on the intense eyes that met her in the darkened hall…the deep, rich timbre of voice that asked what she wanted to do…she wanted to do this. If she’d had more courage she might have breathed out the truth…might have said she wanted to be loved hard and made to feel whole for just tonight, have someone be her champion in more ways than one.
Her fingers slid across the plump lips slicked by her juices, her bud now almost too sensitive to touch. A gasp cut through the night, followed by a gut-deep moan. Her mouth hungered for a kiss, for the press of heavy flesh against flesh as timid fingers opened her lips, causing a shudder…a hand grasping at her breast, a cry renting the room the moment her clit was found. Flicks maddening, still the need for penetration bringing tears of frustration, drawing both hands to the cause in a frenzy…one to attend the over-ripe bud, the other to shove too-short fingers into a sopping, aching place too long ignored.
The orgasm came so fast and so furiously that it drew her up in halting jerks, tears streaming, but left her awash between half-satisfied and half-crazed. On her belly in moments, a wedge of pillows between her legs, a hand there beneath her, riding her fingers, trying to find the right spot, needing them deeper, thicker, and wider, moving against anything that would provide friction, her eyes shut tight, one image before her, driving her…Brick.
When she came this time, the covers had fallen away. Her body was left damp, cold with sweat. Her chemise was pulled over her breasts, pajama bottoms were askew, hair all over her head like a banshee’s, and she was out of breath. Acute loneliness made her hide her face against the sheets and weep.
Brick remained very, very still in the shadow of branches, a part of the trunk. This was complete bullshit. He lowered himself down from the maple adjacent Sidney’s window. He’d heard her call him, and had only doubled back to be sure her jerk husband hadn’t come in on her to start some mess. At least that’s what he told himself. And, yeah, it made sense for him to be sure she was okay…to just put a cursory eye on her to be on the safe side. No sense in scaring the woman to death, just a glance, then he was gonna be out.
Yeah, okay, so a glance turned into a little more when she snuggled down under the covers and got that look on her face…and the smell of her need hit his nose. And, although he wasn’t completely human, he was indeed male, and what brother could just turn away from a woman in that condition, huh?
But she’d called his name…and oh, damn, was she hot. If he wasn’t afraid of scaring the mess out of her, he would have gladly come through the window—but that would have been very uncool. Ringing the doorbell seemed like a better answer, especially since she was crying. Damn. Note to self, bare canines and rip that SOB’s throat out if he blinks wrong.
Brick rounded the house and rang the bell, shifting from foot to foot on the landing. The acute hard-on was giving him a headache. He could hear Sidney standing and moving through the house, but attempting to be quiet to act like she wasn’t home. He leaned on the bell, knowing she was trying to be sure it wasn’t Douglass playing games, or coming home drunk and high without his keys just to torture her.
Part of him knew this was a bad idea. He should have taken the money and walked, and not doubled back for drama. But seeing Sidney touch herself like that…the image was burned into his brain now and forever. Her rapid response, the way she’d turned over in agony, frenzied, gathering the pillows beneath her, then her lovely brown ass bobbing up and down. He closed his eyes and leaned on the bell, finally rewarded by having the front door crack open.
“Yes?” Sidney said, slightly out of breath, her eyes searching as she hid behind the h
uge oak obstruction. “I was asleep. I didn’t hear you.”
She wiped her face with the back of her robe sleeve and kept smoothing down her hair. The scent of her sex rendered him mute for a moment.
“Can I come in?” he said quietly after a brief pause, “before the neighbors see me?”
She immediately backed up and allowed him in and hurriedly shut the door, then hugged herself, looking self-conscious.
“I can’t take your money,” he said with a rush of breath, and then dug into his jacket pocket and handed her the envelope.
“Ohmigod,” she said, her voice quavering. She thrust it toward him, but he held up both hands refusing to take it. “You’re not going to take my case? What did I do wrong…why—”
“I’m gonna take your case, and should have something within a week or so, but I’m not going to take your money. This one is on the house.”
“Why?” she asked softly, her eyes searching his in the darkened foyer as she slid the envelope onto the crescent table nearby.
“Because you’ve been abused enough. I tripled my fee, what I told Leonora you should pay, because I don’t generally do personal cases of the domestic variety. I hate ’em. Too messy. I didn’t want this one.”
“But…”
He nodded. “But I got involved. Now I sorta don’t feel right charging you like I did.”
Sidney nodded. “You want a drink or something?” She let her breath out hard. “I could use one.”
