The Slade Brothers: A Complete Small Town Contemporary Romance Collection

by Alexis Winter

  Stress. That has to be the reason. Dealing with all that’s going on at the brewery, then dealing with my dad on top of it, I’ve had more stress than usual. Drinking certainly didn’t help matters. I pull into the driveway and exit the truck, walking straight into the house and to the kitchen, where I left my bottle of bourbon. I plan on drinking it until I don’t remember that kiss we shared. No way will I be able to move on if it’s still fresh in my mind. I need to erase it.

  I grab the bottle and lean against the counter as I open it and take a long drink. It burns going down, but it’s a burn I crave. It’s a burn that will bring peace in the end. I shake my head, and mentally, I’m ripping myself a new one. I should’ve done everything I could in order to avoid her. I should’ve had Harrison attend all the meetings. I should’ve known I couldn’t trust myself.

  The crunch of gravel draws my attention toward the door. I look up, confused as to who could be coming over so late. The porch light is on, and the moment she steps up to the screen door, I see her. Her green eyes are damn near glowing. Her cheeks, flushed. Her eyes lock on mine but she doesn’t say anything or move to open the door. I take one more swig of my bottle and set it on the island in front of me as I move toward the door.

  What is she doing here? Doesn’t she see that this can’t happen? Why would she follow me home? I open the door and she steps inside without a word. She looks up at me and I look down at her.

  “I . . .” she says quietly before shaking her head clear. “I know I’m not thinking clearly.”

  “What are you doing here, Celeste?” I rasp out, not even sounding like myself.

  She pushes past me and I turn to watch as she paces the living room floor.

  “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know we shouldn’t have kissed. But I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since I met you. I don’t know what it is about you. I was more than prepared to keep my feelings to myself, but that was when I thought they were one-sided. When you kissed me, it opened a whole can of worms, and suddenly, I can’t remember why it’s wrong anymore.” She holds her arms out at her sides and lets them fall. The expression on her face is verging on sadness, and it pains me to see it. I didn’t mean to confuse her or hurt her in any way. In fact, it’s the last thing I want to do. I’m only trying to hold things together—not make them worse.

  “We work together,” I remind her. “You’re going to be leaving in a year,” I add on. “Oh yeah, and let’s not forget the big age difference between us.”

  “We’re both adults, Drake,” she says, stepping closer. “You don’t think we can be adult enough to keep things separate? I know I can.” Her fingers hook under the bottom of her shirt as she slowly pulls it above her head, leaving her standing in front of me in her black lace bra. Her breasts are pushed together and I can’t do anything but imagine running my tongue between them.

  “I promise I won’t think this is more than what it is as long as you promise you won’t either. I can’t stay with you. All I can do is give us both something we want.” She bites down on her lower lip as she watches me intently. God, how I’d like to be biting down on that lip right now.

  Her eyes are full of lust and excitement. Her chest is moving up and down quickly, causing her breasts to press together even more tightly. She’s basically giving me what I want. She feels it. She wants me too. But she knows we can’t work in the long run. All this could ever be is sex—two consenting adults who want to fulfill a need that no one else can fill at this moment. I feel myself wavering. She’s offering herself up on a silver platter, and I’m not strong enough to walk away.

  I step toward her quickly before I can change my mind. With my mouth on hers, I pull her against my chest and pick her up against me. Her legs wrap around my hips and my hands land on her firm ass to support her weight. The alcohol I’ve consumed tonight pushes away the reasons why this is wrong, and convinces me that this is so fucking right. My blood feels like it’s boiling beneath my skin—bringing my entire body to life in ways I haven’t felt in years. Her small hands push my shirt up my stomach and her fingers skim across my skin. Her touch nearly burns my flesh. I press her back to the wall and break our kiss to yank my shirt over my head.

  Tossing it to the floor, my mouth is right back on hers. Even though I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything, I also know how bad this is. I want to give her the chance to back out—to change her mind. The way she’s kissing me: fast, hard, and rushed, and the way her nails are digging into my skin, it’s clear she’s wanting me to take the next step. My hands slowly start moving up her back.

  I’ve had one-night stands before—long, long ago—but even those were with women I knew. I know nothing about Celeste other than the fact that she’s my new lawyer and she’s from California. I have no idea what she drinks, what her favorite food is, or the type of man she usually goes for. I don’t know if she’s a romantic or if she prefers to get down and dirty with random men. Instead of being able to use my knowledge of a woman to give her what she likes, I just have to go with what feels right. And right now, the only thing that feels right is everything that should feel wrong. I want to move us into the bedroom—which hasn’t been used since Casey moved out—but I don’t think I could handle being in there with another woman. I haven’t slept in that bed in years, because I couldn’t bear the thought of being in there without her.

  My fingers find the hook on her bra and it’s still easy to unfasten it without looking, even though I’m extremely out of practice. Her bra straps fall from her shoulders as my mouth pulls away from hers. I keep my eyes on hers at first, giving her the chance to change her mind. Instead, she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth as if she’s awaiting my approval. My eyes slowly fall past her plump lips, make their way down her slender neck, and finally rest on her chest. Her breasts are perky, with her nipples standing at attention. My mouth waters just from gazing at them. There’s an ache in my stomach, and it’s urging me to reach out and touch them, massage them, taste them.

  I fall to my knees in front of her, with my palms moving up to cup them. They feel heavy in my hands—so soft and perfect. I don’t even remember making the decision to taste them, but the next thing I know, her hard nipple is in my mouth and my tongue is flicking against it. Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling and tugging as her breathing becomes harder and more ragged.

  My lips kiss their way lower, down her flat stomach, as my fingers begin to unbutton her skirt. Moments later, it falls to the floor and she’s in nothing but a pair of black lace panties. As I’m kissing my way to her hips, my fingers brush against her core. Her wetness is soaking through the lace. I breathe her in deeply and she smells as sweet as I’d dreamed she would.

  “Drake,” she whispers my name. Her hands are shaking as they move up to cup my jaw.

  I open my eyes and look up at her. She looks scared and nervous. Suddenly, I’m wondering if this is her first time.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I ask, even though it pains me.

  “No,” she replies with a slight shake of her head. She falls to her knees, placing her at eye level now. Slowly, she kisses me. It’s a soft kiss, so different than how we were just kissing. Her hands move to my chest and she pushes me back until I’m sitting down in front of her. I watch her for a moment. She watches me. Something is changing between us—charging.

  Her hands reach for the waistband on my jeans and they’re shaking as they unfasten my belt. I reach out—pulling her on top of me—and our lips meet once again. Rolling us over, I take my place on top, between her parted knees. Her hands are on my hips, pushing down my jeans as she kisses me passionately. My hands begin pushing her panties down her long legs. I hear the sound of fabric tearing, but don’t think anything of it, and neither does she. When my jeans are down to the middle of my thighs, I spring free, resting against her core. She’s so wet for me, I glide against her with ease.

  “I don’t have a condom,” I say against her lips, hoping she stops
me, but praying she doesn’t. I haven’t had a use for condoms in years, and the last couple months that Casey and I were together, we didn’t even use them since we both wanted kids.

  “I have one in my purse,” she says, causing me to pull away and look around on the floor for her purse. I find it by the door. She must’ve dropped it there when she walked in. I grab it quickly by stretching. I refuse to remove myself from her completely, fearing it might break the spell for her.

  “It’s in the small zippered pocket on the inside,” she says, removing her boots and kicking her panties the rest of the way off.

  I pull the zipper open and there’s the condom. I quickly grab it and toss the purse to the side. I open the foil packet with my teeth and quickly slide on the condom before taking my place on top of her again. Her hands tangle into my hair, pulling my mouth to hers. She raises her hips, causing me to glide between her folds. My hands rest on her hips, holding her still.

  “Please, Drake, I need this. I need you,” she pleads against my lips. I can feel her knees shaking on either side of my hips.

  I can’t stand to listen as she begs for something I want just as badly. Without warning, I push my hips forward and slide deep inside her. Her whole body tenses and she sucks in a large gulp of air. I push in the rest of the way and melt into her. She’s so hot—so tight around me. She’s my own special version of heaven. I’ve never in my life felt something so good. Not with any other woman I’ve been with. Not even Casey.

  Already, my release is aching to explode, but I refuse to let it go. No way can this end so soon. No way will I allow it to end before dawn. If I know one thing and one thing only, it’s that I will make this last as long as possible. I won’t stop until she’s begging me. I won’t leave her until I’ve had her in every way possible. If this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot, then I won’t let it end until we’re both done with each other once and for all.

  Seven

  Celeste

  I wake in the morning, but I don’t open my eyes. Honestly, I don’t want to be awake yet. My body is sore from last night’s dancing and my stomach is doing flops from the stupid amount of alcohol I consumed. And . . . I had the best dream ever. A dream where Drake and I came together in the most delicious way possible. Maybe if I don’t open my eyes, I’ll be able to find my way back to that dream.

  My head starts pounding and my body is begging for me to find a bathroom. I want to stomp my foot. I don’t want real life right now! I want that dream. I want to be lost in Drake—but from a safe distance since I know I’d be a moth to his flame.

  I hear a groan from behind me and my eyes pop open as fear consumes me. Who’s in my room? Did I bring someone home last night? No way. That’s not my style What the fuck? Wait . . . I don’t remember coming home last night. My eyes strain against the bright light of the sun that’s streaming through the window. I’m momentarily blinded. Slowly, everything comes into focus.

  The first thing I see is a wooden coffee table. Then my eyes move up to a recliner and a large window. I push myself up into a sitting position and find Drake beside me. A blue blanket barely covers him from the waist down. His chest is bare and he has his forearm thrown over his eyes, shading them from the bright sun. I look down at myself and find that I’m completely naked. My body flushes with embarrassment and shame.

  “Wha—? No, no, no, no, no, no,” I whisper, shaking my head back and forth as I look at myself, at Drake, and around the room trying to piece things together. My dream wasn’t a dream! It was real. I followed him home. I seduced him. I slept with him—my client! God, everything is going to be so fucked up now. How can we pretend this didn’t happen? How can we work together with this huge secret between us? What if he fires me? What if I have to return home a failure? How could I have let this happen?

  I have to get out of here. I look around me and find my clothes on the floor. I tug on my shirt—skipping the bra—and then pull on my skirt. I pull my ripped panties up my legs beneath my skirt and start crawling around on my knees, looking for my socks. I have to get out of here right now, before he wakes up. I can’t face him. Not now. Not after this.

  “Don’t freak out, Celeste,” he says, voice deep and even.

  “What?” I breathe out, turning to face him. He’s still lying on the floor, but his arm is on his forehead now, blocking the sun from shining in his eyes, which are locked on mine.

  “We got wasted. It happens.” He shrugs. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He sits up and runs his hands through his dark hair.

  My mouth drops open as my head shakes. “I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t do . . . this.” I say motioning between us. I try to stand up, but end up tripping and falling back to my knees. He catches me and pulls me back to his chest. He rolls us over quickly so he’s hovering on top of me. He may as well have poured ice-cold water on me. Every muscle tenses beneath him. His weight feels good, but it also feels wrong. So wrong.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I think we both knew there was an attraction the night we met. Last night, we acted on it. Simple as that.” The way he says those words is so completely unfazed, like what we did wasn’t a big deal. But it’s a big deal to me.

  “I don’t do this, Drake,” I say sternly.

  “Yeah, you made that clear already,” he says, running his lips up my neck.

  “I don’t sleep with men I don’t know. I don’t put my job in jeopardy. I don’t complicate things like this. This isn’t me.”

  He offers a cocky smile. “I think I got to know you pretty well last night, Celeste.” He drags the tip of his nose along my jaw. “And to be honest, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

  I push him away and get to my feet, looking down on him. He lets out a loud laugh. It’s like a slap to my already sore ego.

  “The rules have been broken,” he says. “We can’t pretend like they haven’t.”

  “Yes, we can, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do,” I argue as I pull on one of my boots.

  “Suit yourself,” he says, standing up and letting the blanket fall as he does so. He’s standing in front of me, completely naked and erect. Holy shit, his cock is like a python. How the hell did that girthquake monster fit inside me?

  “You know where I’ll be,” he says, turning and walking down the hallway. His perfect ass is the only thing my eyes can lock on. He has two dimples on his lower back—one on each side of his spine. His thighs are toned and his ass may as well be a peach that’s asking me to take a bite. My stomach tightens and I think a whimper escapes. I fucking love peaches.

  “Stop gawking and take what you want, Celeste,” he says, turning to look at me with a grin before walking into another room. Moments later, I hear the shower turn on and I collapse onto the floor, still holding one boot.

  How the fuck did this happen? How could I have let it happen? Why do I still want it even though I know it’s wrong? Memories from last night start to wash over me. He knew what this was. I knew what this was. It was a hookup, plain and simple. We weren’t deluded. We didn’t think it would be the start of some epic romance. We’re both adults—adults who have an undeniable attraction to each other. As long as we can keep work and play separate, why should there be a problem?

  But I already know the answer to my own question: because this is the real world and someone always ends up hurt. He’s already hurt. I don’t want to hurt him again when I have to leave in a year. This could never work out and we both knew it before we did what we did last night.

  I quickly gather my things and run for the door. Not saying goodbye isn’t polite, but no way can I walk into a bathroom where he’s naked. Actually, I don’t think I could even face him right now. My head is pounding and my stomach is turning. My entire body is sore, and I now have this built-up anxiety inside of me. I just need to get away. I need to clear my head and think things through.

  I refuse to let myself think about him on my drive back home. I refuse to le
t myself think of anything other than how sick I’m feeling. The bright sun doesn’t help the headache, and the bouncy roads don’t do anything but mix up the contents of my stomach. Walking into my motel room, I head straight to the bathroom to empty what’s left of it. After five minutes of vomiting up the entire bar I drank last night, I flush the toilet and reach for my toothbrush. As I brush my teeth, I turn on the water and fill the tub completely, adding in some Epsom salt and bath oils. I need to unwind and relieve some of the soreness in my muscles.

  Sinking into the hot water, I wonder if I’m sore from dancing or from having sex with Drake. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the sack with someone, and from what I can remember from last night, he was a monster in bed. Just thinking back on the night has my stomach tightening and my thighs squeezing together beneath the water. I lean my head back and close my eyes, hoping to clear my head and constant thoughts. Unfortunately, the only thing that happens is I see flashes of our time together. I see him moving on top of me. I see the way he squeezes his eyes shut. I can feel his strong arms around me, holding me close and making me feel the safest I’ve ever felt. A heat consumes me from the inside out, and suddenly, the bathwater is too hot.

  I wash off quickly and get out, needing to cool down. I pull on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then go in search of food. I’ve always been a big eater after drunken nights, and I’ve loved waking up and going for breakfast. Nothing cures a hangover better than a greasy breakfast. Sadly, I don’t have any of the items needed for a greasy diner breakfast, so I’m stuck with soup or microwavable food. I settle for a frozen breakfast bowl that contains scrambled eggs, potato chunks, sausage, cheese, and gravy. I toss it into the microwave and turn to prepare my bed for my lazy Saturday.