The Wrong Man

by Natasha Anders

  She didn’t say a word, merely waited, and he sucked in a breath at the picture she made. Prim, perfect Lia McGregor bent over the kitchen counter, dress hiked up, legs spread, and panties pooled around one ankle, ready and waiting for his cock.

  Sam groaned, unable to go another second without being inside her. He was wearing track pants with an elasticized waist, and he shoved them down to his hips without any problem. He’d had the forethought to put a condom in his pocket that morning, and he didn’t know how the hell he did it, but he managed to get the thing on without her help.

  He gripped his shaft and positioned himself at her sweet, hot little entrance before dropping his hand to her hip and pushing. She was ready for him, dripping for him, despite the lack of foreplay, and he moaned as all that tight hotness closed around him. She whimpered once he was fully sheathed, and the helpless little sound drove Sam quite mad with desire. He dragged himself out without much finesse before surging back in with a hard, almost violent thrust. Another little whimper from her, and he cursed.

  “This is going to be rough, sunshine,” he managed to warn her tightly, and she clenched around him.

  “Good.” Her voice was muffled against her hand. “Thank you.”

  The thank-you sent him completely over the edge, and he grunted before losing himself completely. Years of experience, of technique, of laudable bedroom skills went flying out the window to be replaced by sheer, primal animal instinct. All he felt was the need to mate, to claim, to mark someone as irrevocably his. He felt her come, more than once, and he felt a rush of possessive pleasure that he could satisfy her like that. It was the resultant swell of pure happiness that sent him into his own blinding orgasm.

  When it was over, when he came to himself again, it was to stare down at Lia, then at his surroundings in dazed shock. He didn’t feel right. He stepped away from her and turned his back to tug off the condom and adjust his pants. His movements were automatic but felt sluggish, like none of his limbs belonged to him. He was hazily aware of Lia moving behind him, heard her still labored breathing along with the rustling of fabric as she straightened her clothes and probably fixed her hair. But he couldn’t seem to move. He stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, not quite sure what to do or where to go next.

  “Brand?” Her quizzical voice seemed to come from far away, and he blinked and then blinked again. His confusion abruptly wore off as everything snapped into focus again. He’d been in the process of discarding the condom. He went to the upstairs bathroom to complete the task and then sat on the side of the tub for a moment to gather his faculties.

  He shouldn’t have left her alone immediately after sex like that, he suddenly thought.

  It was an arsehole move. He moved to the basin and dashed water on his face, roughly toweling it dry before hurrying back downstairs. She was at the sink again, and he frowned at her narrow back. How could she just go back to doing the dishes after that?

  They should at least talk about what happened.

  “Lia?” He kept his voice gentle. “You okay?”

  She lifted her hands out of the water and dried them on a dish towel before turning to face him. Her eyes were serious, but she had a smile on her face; the effect was jarring and he was shocked to recognize that this was not a genuine smile. When had he become so familiar with her that he could tell her smiles apart?

  “That was something else, Brand,” she said, her voice teasing, while her eyes remained completely solemn.

  “I’m sorry. It was a bit . . . much.”

  “It was intense, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.”

  “Maybe we should talk about it?” She shook her head, another one of those horrible fake smiles on her beautiful lips.

  “No. We shouldn’t.”

  “Another one of your rules?” he asked, unable to disguise the frustration in his voice.

  “Uh-huh. Number five, to be exact.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Nine.”

  “I want to read them.”

  “I’ll send you the abridged notes,” she promised. “I’m nearly done, let’s leave in five minutes.”

  Because Lia had no other errands that day, they spent a couple of hours at the animal shelter. Brand went straight to Trevor, while Lia helped out with the adoption fair.

  Her father was at the shelter today as well. He was a busy man who ran his own practice and the free clinic he and Daisy had started in Inkululeko, the township, but he spent a lot of his free time at the shelter, and Dr. Gunnerson-Smythe often called him in to consult on the more complex cases. The shelter simply didn’t have the time or resources to cope with complicated veterinary cases, and if not for her father, a lot of animals with potentially treatable problems would have been put down.

  Lia and her father had waved at each other in acknowledgment but hadn’t really spoken all morning, each busy with their own tasks. Lia was interviewing potential pet families and her father was administering treatment to some of his patients, a task he would have had to squeeze in on Saturday, after his free clinic, if not for the holiday.

  Lia lost track of her father and concentrated on her own task. It was a busy, tiring morning for her, and only after the rush had passed did she realize that she hadn’t seen Brand since their arrival. She stretched, ignoring the Brand-related aches and twinges in so many unfamiliar places, and handed off the last of the adoption questionnaires to Sarah, the receptionist.

  “I think we did well today,” she said with a smile. “At least ten adoptions, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Minky found a home,” Sarah said, her eyes bright with excitement. Minky was one of their golden oldies, a plump ten-year-old miniature dachshund with soulful black eyes and a graying muzzle.

  “That’s wonderful, who wants her?”

  “An elderly couple. They lost their Labrador to old age a year ago, came in six months ago to fill out an adoption form, and then decided they weren’t ready. They came in again today, took one look at Minky, and fell completely in love. It was mutual, too—Minky looked like she wanted to crawl into the old lady’s lap and stay there forever.”

  Lia was still smiling over the news when she went looking for Brand. The smile faded in an instant when she found him amiably chatting with her father. They were both standing outside Trevor’s pen, looking like longtime buddies as they talked and laughed. Her father saw her first and smiled fondly.

  “Ah, here she is,” he said, and Lia swallowed down a surge of panic.

  Here she is? What did he mean by that? Were they talking about her? Why were they talking about her? And how could Brand be looking at her with so much heat in his eyes with her father standing right there beside him? It was unnerving.

  She smiled nervously and her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side, dropping a kiss on her head.

  “Your mother tells me you’ve been helping Sam out,” her father said, sounding pleased enough about that.

  “Yes, until his cast comes off.”

  “She’s always been my sweetest girl,” he told Sam proudly, and the younger man’s eyes dropped to her painfully embarrassed face.

  Brand, damn him, smiled, and Lia caught the wicked glint in his eyes, even if her father didn’t.

  “Is that so?” he asked, his voice perfectly neutral.

  “Daisy was a bit of an introvert, always focused on her studies. Daff was . . . is . . .” Her father smiled fondly and shook his head. “Well, I’m sure you’ve met Daff.”

  Brand’s smile widened, and he laughed.

  “Say no more,” he joked.

  “But Lia, never a harsh word to say about anyone, always happy to help out. She’ll take good care of you.”

  “Oh, she has definitely been taking very good care of me,” Brand said agreeably, nothing at all lascivious in his voice or in his words, but Lia still stared daggers at him.

  “Your mother tells me Daff, Spencer, and Charlie are coming around for
a braai later, Lia. Bring Sam.”

  “I will.” Lia nodded obediently, even though the last thing she wanted was for her STF to hang out with her family. Her father shook Sam’s hand firmly before taking his leave.

  “How was your visit with Trevor today?” Lia asked.

  “Great, he sat a little closer than he did yesterday. Showed interest in the treats I brought but wasn’t ready to take them from me.”

  “That’s good,” Lia said, even while she was still troubled over what it could mean if Trevor bonded with him and he left.

  “So a braai is a barbecue, right?” he asked, and she nodded.

  “Brace yourself,” she warned lightly. “You won’t know what to do with all the meat.”

  “Sounds fantastic.” He grinned. He cast a furtive look left and then right down the quiet corridor that housed the rehab pens before leaning toward her and whispering, “Time to get back to the cabin for a quickie before we hang out with your parents?”

  Lia sucked in a breath as her legs wobbled and her stomach flipped at the words.

  “I think that’s doable,” she said, her voice emerging on an embarrassingly husky note.

  “I think you’re doable.” He leered comically and she laughed breathlessly before taking his left hand in both of hers and tugging him toward her. He went willingly, and when she stepped into his arms for a quick, stolen kiss, he was the one who hiked in his breath and groaned helplessly.

  Lia dashed home for a shower and a quick change of clothing after her and Brand’s afternoon quickie turned into an hours-long sexual odyssey. At the rate they were going, Lia was fairly certain their sexual chemistry would fizzle out in a matter of days. Surely something this hot and potent couldn’t last.

  As she stood beneath the shower, she explored her body in wonder. It was the same unremarkable set of arms and legs and breasts as before, and yet she felt like she had never really known what it was capable of. It was ridiculous how sensitive and responsive this body was to Brand’s touch—she was almost dreading the prospect of the cast coming off, because he was already pretty lethal without the use of both hands.

  Her phone buzzed while she was dressing, and she picked it up with a dreamy smile, expecting it to be from Brand. But the text wasn’t from him—it was from Daff.

  Hey, Spencer tells me Daddy invited Brand (eye-roll emoji). Easier for us to drive him to the farm. Meet you there.

  Lia beat back the swell of dissatisfaction at the message, telling herself she had no right to be disappointed that he wouldn’t be with her. It was a short drive and it definitely made more sense for him to go with Daff, Spencer, and Charlie.

  She was still in her room when she heard Spencer’s truck drive up, and she ran her hands down the front of her skirt before heading downstairs to join everybody. She pinpointed Brand’s exact location in seconds, giving him an impersonal smile before moving her eyes along. She avoided even casting her gaze in his general direction after that, instead going up to her mother, Charlie, and Daff and joining them in setting up the picnic table.

  “Aunty Millie, are we expecting more guests?” Charlie asked their mother suddenly, and Lia and Daff both looked at the pretty teen in surprise. She widened her eyes at them before pointing at the table. “There are extra place settings. You guys aren’t very observant.”

  Lia’s eyes dropped to the long table, where two extra plates were set out.

  “Are we expecting company, Mom?” Daff asked curiously.

  “Not exactly,” their mother said with a smile, and Daff’s eyes narrowed at the cryptic response.

  She was about to probe further when a couple of familiar dogs came scrambling through the open patio doors, rolling over each other in their eagerness to greet everybody present. For a moment Lia stared at them in blank confusion until Charlie’s delighted squeal snapped her out of her perplexed daze.

  “Peaches! Cooper!” the girl screamed, dropping to her knees and opening her arms until the two dogs threw themselves at her and laved her with their overeager tongues. Charlie’s own dog, Toffee, huddled beneath the table, watching the commotion nervously.

  “Oh my gosh,” Lia said in wonder as the implication of the dogs’ unexpected presence finally sank in. Her eyes flew to the door and her squeal was almost identical to Charlie’s when Daisy and Mason stepped onto the porch. The next ten minutes flew by in a confusion of hugs, kisses, and muddled talking as everyone demanded to know why they hadn’t been told about this visit. It was crazy and wonderful all at the same time.

  At some point in the middle of the chaotic family reunion, Lia glanced up at Brand. He remained standing to one side, a beer in his hand as he watched the happy gathering with a grin on his face. Content to let the family get reacquainted before going to greet his longtime friend. He met Lia’s eyes, and that inevitable heat sparked between them. His smile turned sensuous, and he acknowledged the spark by lifting his bottle to her in a slight salute before breaking the short, intense staring contest.

  Lia shook herself and focused on Daisy and Mason, whom none of them had seen in four months.

  “We wanted to surprise you guys,” Daisy was saying, her voice breathless with excitement. “But we also didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure I’d get the time off.”

  “How long are you staying?” Daff asked.

  “The entire week. The second semester starts the week after next, so we’ll drive back next Monday.”

  “And since Daff moved in with Spencer, we’ll be staying at Daisy’s house,” Mason said and grinned at Brand. “In case you’re wondering if I’m evicting your injured ass.”

  “How long have you been here?” Lia asked.

  “We’ve literally just arrived. Mom and Daddy knew we were coming, of course,” Daisy said.

  “You poor kids must be exhausted,” their mother said sympathetically. It was a long drive from Grahamstown to Riversend.

  “A little. The clinic was open for a few hours this morning, so I was at work and then we did some last-minute packing and shopping before we left. It’s been a long day,” Daisy said, and Mason wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to drop a kiss on top of her curly head.

  Sam watched the happy little family tableau with a smile. There was a lot of love and affection in this group. Mason and Spencer looked like they’d been a part of this family for years, they were so welcome and at ease with everybody. Sam felt the slightest dart of envy. It was a rogue, anomalous emotion that he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t a happy-family kind of guy. This wasn’t something he coveted or aspired to, but still . . . it had to be nice to be so accepted and loved. It had only ever been Sam and his mother, with the occasional stepfather thrown in the mix. He and his mom had been a great team—that was all he’d ever needed. He’d never desired anything more, and he didn’t see the point in wanting more now. Not when he knew he wasn’t suited for it at all.

  Mason finally managed to extricate himself from the rest of the group and wandered over to Sam. He cast a critical look over Sam’s body before shaking his head and grinning.

  “You look like shit,” he observed before stepping up to give Sam a quick hug, mindful of his injured arm.

  “At least in my case it’s temporary. You always look like shit,” Sam countered. The banter with the guy, who was essentially his best friend, felt familiar, and they both grinned again.

  “Fuck off,” Mason said without heat, reaching into the cooler behind Sam and helping himself to a beer. “How you doing, bro?”

  “Been better,” Sam admitted. “But it’s not as bad as it was.”

  “You settled in at the cabin?”

  “Yeah, thanks for that. Are you sure you’re okay with me staying there? I can stay at Daisy’s place until after you leave again.”

  “Nah. It’s cool. Daisy and I will only be using that place as a base. We’ll probably spend most of our time at Spencer’s or the in-laws’.” Mason’s eyes roamed over the assembled group, continuous
ly circling back to Daisy. “Fuck, it’s good to be back home. I didn’t even know how much I missed everyone until we walked through that door.”

  “You have a great family, mate,” Sam said and was shocked to hear that previous envy creep into his voice.

  “They are pretty fucking fantastic. And I see they’ve welcomed you into the fold.”

  “Temporarily.”

  “This family doesn’t do temporary.”

  “But I do,” Sam reminded, and Mason grimaced at him.

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” he said, taking a sip from his beer. His eyes were back on Daisy and then fell to his brother, who was teasing their young sister, Charlie, about something. Mason’s face lit up. “’Scuse me for a second. Spence might need backup.”

  Sam nodded and watched as Mason waded into whatever was going on between Spencer and their teenage half sister. The girl, with her almond-shaped emerald eyes, flawless brown skin, and thick black curls was exotically pretty but still bore a striking resemblance to her brothers. Mason tucked an arm around her waist and hoisted her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She laughed and squealed at the indignity of it all, trying to maintain her adolescent cool while giggling like a child.

  “It’s hard to believe she’s been in their lives for less than a year, isn’t it?” Lia said, and Sam glanced down at her, unsurprised that she’d finally, inevitably, made her way to his side.

  “Hello there, Miss Priss,” he greeted softly, his eyes taking in her cap-sleeved, knee-length, sky-blue dress with the high neck and slightly flared skirt. “You’re looking very pretty and proper this evening, and you know what that does to my blood pressure.”

  She kept her eyes straight ahead, but he could see her breathing change while a hectic flush bled into her skin.