by Shayla Black
What happened next? She didn’t know, but surely God had a plan. The gospel of John said, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another…” So whatever He had in store, she would follow her heart.
It wouldn’t be easy. Cutter still disliked Pierce. Her father knew nothing about him except as Cutter’s injured teammate who had needed her Christian charity. She and Pierce were from different worlds, and they were still getting to know each other. But she refused to lose faith. After all, Joseph and Job hadn’t when presented with incredible trials. By comparison, this was nothing.
She and Pierce could make something work, right?
Brea hoped so…and prayed he felt something for her, too. Because her heart kept yearning for the fairy tale.
What if he didn’t love her in return? Yes, he’d given her a hundred signs that he cared. He’d even admitted he’d never felt about a woman the way he felt about her. Had he meant that as romantically as it sounded?
He’s not the marrying kind.
Cutter’s assertion blazed through her memory. If her best friend was right, what did that make her to Pierce, simply a friend with benefits? Had she, in her naiveté, confused his desire for love?
Tonight, she’d find out.
As she stepped onto Pierce’s porch, she fluffed her hair and double-checked her lipstick in her little compact’s mirror. She’d chosen a berry shade that was a bit vampier than her usual nude pink. She’d taken extra care with the rest of her makeup, too.
After she tucked the compact away, she knocked softly and waited. When he didn’t answer, she used her key to unlock the door. It was the first time since he’d come home from the hospital she’d hesitated to let herself into his personal space. Now that he was healed, he wouldn’t need her every night. Would he even want to see her half so often?
As she tiptoed in, music filled his great room. Not his usual hard rock with screaming vocals, but a sexy R and B tune. Soft candles lit the space. And a profusion of white, pink, and red rose petals had been scattered in a trail across the dark hardwood floors.
Goodness, what was he up to?
“Pierce?”
“In here.”
She followed the petals and the sound of his voice to find him standing in his dining room, wearing a blinding white dress shirt and distressed jeans. Light and shadows loved the angles of his sharp jaw—no longer wired shut—almost as much as she did. He looked so swoon-worthy, she got a little dizzy.
“You like it?” He gestured to the table beside him.
Until he pointed it out, she hadn’t pried her gaze off him long enough to realize he had set it, much less elegantly.
Had he planned dinner to say thank you for helping him? To seduce her back into his bed now that he had healed enough for sex? Or did the gesture mean everything she hoped? “It’s very nice.”
“I hope you’re hungry because I’m going to feed you for a change.” He pulled out her chair. As she brushed past him to sit, he blocked her with his big body. “Wait. It’s been so damn long. Are you going to let me kiss you, pretty girl?”
Brea didn’t have to ask if he wanted to. His expression said he was desperate to get his mouth on hers.
That still doesn’t make it love…
Despite that, she gave him the only answer she could. “Yes.”
“Thank fuck.” He took her face in his hands and bent to devour her mouth.
Her wildly racing heart stopped for an agonizing moment, then thudded furiously again. Eagerly, she pressed herself against him, barely noticing when her purse fell to the floor.
The rational part of her insisted they should talk first. But when Pierce sank inside her mouth, desire muted logic and muzzled her worries. She stopped caring about anything in that moment except being as close as possible to this man.
Suddenly, he pulled away with a groan.
She blinked up at him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I promised to feed you, so I’m going to.” He stepped aside and helped her into the chair. “And we can finally talk.”
She was dying to know what he had on his mind, but his health came first. “Tell me what the doctors said.”
“One second.” He dashed into the kitchen and, with two mitts, took a pair of plates out of the oven. He set one before her. The other he dropped in front of his chair beside her, then eased into his seat.
Her eyes widened. “Lasagna, asparagus, and garlic bread? You remembered?”
“That they’re some of your favorites, yeah.”
“Thank you.” Her heart fluttered. “That’s incredibly thoughtful.”
“It’s not homemade since I can’t cook for shit, but I asked around and heard this place had the best Italian food in town.”
“It smells amazing.” But after his kiss, her body was pinging with life. Food was the last thing on her mind.
“It’s a small way to thank you. You came here to take care of me every day for nearly six weeks, even though you’d worked on your feet all day and your father is still recovering. Even though you were burning your candle at both ends and you were tired…”
Of course Pierce had noticed. Under his gruff exterior, he was kind. Brea tried not to be disappointed that he had planned this dinner merely to show his gratitude. He’d probably feel guilty if he knew her urge to nap often lasted all day. Or that, lately, her stomach rolled from the moment she got out of bed until long into the afternoon. But telling him served no purpose.
Tonight, she felt well enough to eat the yummy, cheesy pasta he had thoughtfully brought her, so she would. She’d push aside her stupid fantasies of a future with Pierce, too.
And now that he didn’t need her anymore, when she left tonight she’d take a giant step back out of his life.
“My pleasure.” She managed a smile.
“You were there for me every day,” he finished. “That means more to me than I can tell you. So thanks.”
“There was no place else I would have wanted to be.” It was true.
She swallowed back the rest of her feelings. He didn’t want them.
Pierce reached across the space between them to cup her cheek. “Being with you every day was my pleasure, pretty girl. Believe me.”
She got lost in his eyes as tears stung her own. She was so utterly in love. And if he kept looking at her like that, she was going to stupidly blurt it out.
“Let’s, um…get to eating, huh?” He sounded surprisingly rattled.
“Sure.” She forced herself to bite into the tender pasta. The flavors burst on her tongue in a tangy surprise. “Oh, my gosh. This is really good.”
“I’m glad.” He shoveled in a forkful of chicken in a white wine sauce. “Hmm. I missed real food.”
“No doubt.” She took another bite and did her best to simply enjoy her time with him. Soon, she wouldn’t see him much at all. “So tell me. What did your doctors say?”
“The neurologist went over my latest scan and gave me a clean bill of health. It’s hardly a shocker that I’m supposed to avoid more head trauma. But otherwise, he released me. The orthopedic surgeon studied the last films she took of my shoulder and knees. All good. I started exercising a little earlier than she’d recommended, but it actually ended up helping me build back my strength. It wasn’t my first rodeo with the shoulder, so I knew how not to pull it out of whack again. She wants to see me in another month but told me I can go ahead and resume normal activity, including work.”
Brea could see the relief on his face. She’d been worried his injuries were so extensive he’d be unable to come back, and he must have had moments of doubt, too. “That’s great. Just make sure you take it easy for a while.”
“I’ll try.” He leaned forward and studied her. “But it’s not an easy job.”
“I know.” And she did from being around Cutter. What they did was dangerous and unpredictable. Just yesterday, her best friend had been sent to Dallas at the last minute to bodyguard an up-and-coming clothing designer with a s
talker. Every time he left, she worried. She could only imagine how she would feel once Pierce resumed missions again. “And I know you’re a tough guy, but you’re only human.”
“Don’t tell the bad guys that.” Pierce winked. “But the best appointment was with the oral surgeon. It feels great to have my jaw back.”
“I can tell you’re thrilled.”
“Hell yeah. He’s still stunned I didn’t lose any teeth, which made the process easier.” He smiled. “And no one can shut me up now.”
“No one wants to.”
He raised a black brow. Just like that, reality splashed cold water on her. Cutter would love to shut him up. Every time she turned around, he still seemed determined to come between them. He was convinced Pierce was no good for her.
She was so happy when they were alone together. Here, in his house, she and Pierce had shared some wonderful times just making small talk, performing domestic tasks, and curling up on the sofa. She sometimes pretended they could spend their lives that way. But the reminder that, even if Pierce ever fell for her, one of the most important people in her world would never approve ate her up.
And Cutter wasn’t their only obstacle. Whatever he thought, he would convey to her father. Since Daddy had always trusted Cutter’s judgment implicitly, once her best friend said that Pierce didn’t deserve her, getting Daddy to hear her side of things would be difficult at best. Convincing him she was right would be even more challenging. Daddy didn’t mean to be old-fashioned…but he was. Just like Cutter. Neither believed she was incapable of taking care of herself; they just didn’t think she should have to.
“Well, I want to hear whatever you have to say,” she corrected.
He gestured to her plate. “There’s a lot. Hurry and get back to eating.”
“I’m doing my best without making a mess,” she pointed out, then sipped from her water glass.
“Shit. I got a bottle of wine. I forgot to open it…” He stood.
She laid her hand over his. “Don’t. I have to drive. I’m good with water.”
He sat with a sigh and reached for his own glass of agua. “You sure? I wanted everything to be perfect.”
For what?
“It is. The music, the rose petals, the food.” She gave him the best smile she could. “You didn’t have to thank me for helping you, but this is very sweet.”
“Just sweet?”
Their gazes connected. In his black eyes, she suddenly saw a lot more than gratitude. Everything inside her trembled. “Were you trying to make it romantic?”
“If you’ve got any doubts, pretty girl, I should have tried harder.”
So he hadn’t done all this merely to thank her? Pleasure rushed Brea. Her smile widened. Was it even a little bit possible that he loved her, too?
“How?” she breathed.
He leaned closer. “Maybe I should have been nicer.”
“If you had, I would have wondered who you were and what you’d done with the real Pierce.”
“Fair enough. Maybe I should have cooked your food myself.”
“Even though you can’t?”
“I didn’t say it was a great idea.”
She laughed. “Feeding me an inedible dinner wouldn’t have done much to impress me.”
“Yeah, screw it.” He leaned closer. “Maybe I should have just kissed you longer.”
Her breath caught. “Maybe you should have.”
Pierce’s eyes turned impossibly darker.
No, that wasn’t love…but it sure felt like it.
Then he hooked his big hand behind her neck, tilted his head, and brought her in for a crushing kiss. The desire that had been simmering under the surface collided with the feelings she’d been hoarding in her heart. Together, they made her body ache for his touch, his caring, his possession.
As he slipped inside her mouth, his tongue sliding intimately against her own, she flashed with heat. She had missed this man desperately. Not seeing him for a month after their night together had been torture. She’d been so relieved when he’d been rescued, but even over the last long weeks of his recovery, during his lowest points and surliest moods, she’d begun to ache for him again in ways she knew many would call shameful. But the need was unrelenting and inescapable. She wanted him more than the first time. More than even yesterday.
Suddenly, he lifted free, heaving hot, harsh breaths. “Fuck.”
Before she could even question why he’d stopped kissing her, he lifted her from her seat, strode to the other end of the table, then laid her across the cool, hard surface.
“I want you, pretty girl. I want to make love to you. I want to do this right.” He swallowed as he gripped her thighs, parted them, and stepped in between. “But I don’t know how much more I can stand not being inside you. It’s felt like an eternity.”
“It’s felt even longer than that.” She didn’t mean to utter her thoughts aloud, but she couldn’t help it. Having Pierce so close rattled her.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much. I need you.” He shoved her skirt up to her hips and stopped. Stared. Swallowed before he brushed his thumb up her sex, barely covered by sheer, pink silk panties. “Oh, Brea…”
Her womb clenched. Blood rushed between her legs. Moisture spilled to all the parts he caressed.
Her brain shut down.
With a whimper, she pushed her hips up to him in a desperate plea for more.
Their first night together, she’d been torn between what was right and what she’d wanted until the pleasure he’d dazzled her with silenced her misgivings. Tonight, she refused to think about anything except being close to him and feeling the ecstasy he heaped on her. Because her body burned for the satisfaction it seemed only he could give her. Because his captivity had reminded her that no one was guaranteed a tomorrow. Because she’d fallen in love with him and wanted to show him how she felt…even if she never spoke the words.
“God, I’ve missed you. You have the prettiest pussy,” he whispered thickly as he bent to her. “Swollen, juicy…”
Pierce fastened his mouth over her, teeth nipping into the pad of her sex, tongue flattening against her clit as if her panties didn’t exist. No, this still wasn’t love, but need roared through her. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself against the electrifying desire rolling through her.
“Pierce!”
“Say yes. Say you want me. Say you can’t wait.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. I want you. Now.”
With deft fingers, he unbuttoned his dress shirt and shrugged out of it. Then, with one hand, he draped it over the back of the nearby chair. With the other, he tugged her sweater up her abdomen. “Take it off.”
Brea wanted it gone, too.
As she struggled to peel the V-neck over her head, Pierce shoved his big fingers under the elastic waistband of her underwear and yanked them down. The second he pulled them free and tossed them aside, he began petting her again where she ached most.
Finally, she wrestled off her sweater, but it didn’t bring her any relief. Heat assailed her. Her feverish skin felt tight. If he didn’t do something besides stoke this blaze, she would combust.
“Your tits look so fucking luscious,” he rasped, his stare glued to her lace-clad breasts.
Under the black fire of his stare, her ache grew. Her nipples tightened and tingled. As if he now had mastery over her body, she arched, offering him her breasts. She parted her legs, giving him her sex.
“Brea. Baby…” His thumb delved between her slick folds to center on her sensitive bud. “I’ve dreamed of this. Why don’t you remind me how pretty you look when you come?”
Everything was happening so quickly. Fierce need clawed its way past her remaining good-girl decorum, stomping all over her worry that he’d never return her feelings.
Maybe they didn’t need to talk with words right now. Under this heady rise of ecstasy, she felt his caring in every touch.
As her heart gonged in her ears, her orgasm
climbed in a hot rush, then crescendoed in a sharp slide up before peaking with a stunning shock of ecstasy. He unraveled her, and she imploded, bucking under him and keening until her throat burned.
“Yes.” He panted, chest heaving. “Fuck.”
Brea hated that word…except when he said it. Then, somehow, it ignited her. Because he was forbidden? Because when he said the word, it sounded like both an expletive and a need? Yes, and when he wrapped his raspy voice around that one blunt syllable, it sounded like praise. Like a benediction.
“I imagined you constantly,” he went on. “After you said you needed space, I tried to tell myself that you couldn’t have been as sexy as I remembered. But I was so fucking wrong.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “Memories of you got me through Mexico. You’re everything to me.”
Shock and hope sparked inside her. “Pierce, you mean so much—”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and seized her mouth before she could finish. Brea didn’t object, simply gave in to his urgency and opened herself to him, helpless to stop this new rise of desire.
Pierce tangled their tongues and slid deeper into her mouth, kissing her senseless—while managing to unfasten the clasps of her bra at her back. When the last hook gave way, he tore the garment from her body, took her breasts in his rough hands, and sucked desperately at her nipples. The pull multiplied the desire building again between her legs.
She wanted it. Craved him. But her breasts felt too tender. “Ouch.”
He frowned. “Too rough?”
“A little.”
“Tell me. Always tell me. I don’t ever want to do anything in bed except make you feel good.”
He eased off, licking, flicking, teasing. It drove Brea insane. The orgasm he’d given her so recently had somehow only left her achier and needier. Without him inside her, she felt hollow. Empty. Bereft.
She needed him to make her whole.
Brea wriggled to sit up as he kept at her nipples like a man too starved to stop. But she persisted, nudging and shoving, until she finally got a breath of space in between them.
Then she tore into the fly of his jeans, ripping the button free and yanking down his zipper.
