“How did I not notice that?” He reached out to stroke the lips of her sex. “You’re bare. Smooth.”
“It’s neater,” she said, only because she felt like something needed to be said.
He smiled. “I like it.”
She smiled back. “I’m glad.”
He petted her patch of hair with his knuckle. “This is what you mentioned to Nate? When he asked about something only someone who’d been intimate with you would know?”
She nodded.
He moved that knuckle lower, down the seam between her lips, to her opening, where he hung out a while, moving in small, teasing circles, pushing in, just a bit. Not enough.
“You’re so wet. For me.”
So turned on that lust addled her brain and turned her shameless, because she said, “I want you.” She did, more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life, so much she couldn’t keep from telling him. So much that thoughts of a hard, fast pounding no longer scared her, and, in fact, aroused her even more.
“Scoot up on the bed,” Shane commanded, his hands working at the fastenings of his pants.
With her head on his pillow she watched him rush to remove his pants, almost falling over in the process. Then he stood before her, completely, gloriously naked. Fully aroused. Brooke couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her.
He made quick work of rolling on a condom. Brooke tried not to think about how much practice he’d had doing that.
Then he was right where she wanted him to be, on top of her, kissing her, working his thighs between hers, positioning himself at her opening. She lifted her hips, needing more. He dipped inside. It wasn’t enough.
“More.” A groan snuck out. “Please.”
He moved his mouth to her ear, whispering, “I have dreamed of this so,” he pushed in slowly, “many,” he pulled out and eased in again, “times.” His words came out tight, sounding like he was fighting for control.
“Me, too,” she said, lifting to meet him.
He rocked forward then retreated, once, twice, three times, each thrust a bit more forceful than the last until he landed deep inside of her, stretching her most enjoyably, filling more than her sex, filling her heart and her soul.
“My God.” He remained still, his breath a hot, moist expulsion of air that tickled her ear. “You’re so tight. You feel so incredibly fantastic.”
So did he but she wanted him to move, needed him to move. “I’m thinking I’ll like hard and fast.” She swiveled her hips beneath him, loving the feel of him, loving the sensation, the stimulation…which only grew more potent and spectacular when he started to thrust into her in earnest. Over and over. Deeper. Harder.
“Wrap your legs around my back.”
She did, and her arms, too, and holy cow! Even better.
His breath came hot and fast in her ear. Her nipple tingled where he tweaked and rolled it. All while he drove himself inside of her, plunging deep, pounding hard. So. Good.
“I love…being inside of…you,” Shane said between panting breaths, his voice deep.
Brooke’s body took on a life of its own, squeezing him, twisting, needing, searching. He hit a spot that sent of an explosion of sensation inside of her. “Right there!” She clung to him, moaning her pleasure, holding her position, praying he’d hit that spot again.
He did. Again and again and again. A man on a mission. Focused. Determined.
Thank goodness.
Her orgasm started to build. Different, more intense, all encompassing. She tried to warn him but a magnificent pleasure she’d never before experienced made speech impossible. She could only ride the wave of ecstasy, enjoy the self-indulgent delight, the absolute freedom, and the tranquility that followed.
Somewhere in the periphery of her mind she heard Shane groan then felt him collapse on top of her. She drifted off into a sated snooze, hoping he felt as good as she did.
—
Sometime later Brooke awoke to knocking; so warm, cozy, and content she didn’t want to move.
“What?” Shane called out, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.
Brooke’s eyes shot open. Oh no. She was in Shane’s bed, in his parents’ house, and with someone knocking on the door.
“I hate to do this,” Lucy said from the hallway, her words somewhat muted. “Ma insisted I come find you to make sure you’re okay. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He cuddled Brooke close to his chest, kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “Much, much better than fine, actually.”
If Brooke weren’t so mortified at being caught she would have been thrilled.
“Uh,” Lucy said. “Is Brooke with you?”
She felt her face go hot. “Now everyone’s going to know,” she whispered in a panic, trying to sit up.
He didn’t let her. “I hate to point out the obvious,” he said quietly. “But you ran after me in front of a church full of people. Then we didn’t show up at the luncheon.”
“You’re not helping.” In fact, he seemed totally fine with everyone knowing.
“Relax.” He used his finger to draw lazy circles on her hip. “I’m twenty-six. You’re twenty-five. It’s not like anyone thought we were virgins.”
Lucy called out, “Ma’s waiting to hear from me.”
“Yes,” Shane answered. “Brooke’s with me.”
She thumped her head against his chest, her catastrophic embarrassment complete.
“You almost done?” Lucy asked. “Ma wants you at the luncheon and told me to do whatever I have to do to get you and Brooke there ASAP.”
With an apologetic grin he asked Lucy, “Can you fix Brooke’s makeup and hair while I take a quick shower?”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Your girl has quite a laugh,” Pat said from behind the bar as he cleared Shane’s empty bottle of Bud and replaced it with a fresh one.
Your girl. He’d heard it so many times over the past few hours he’d gotten used to it and had started to like it. “She does indeed.” Full and rich. Deep and throaty and totally unreserved. He’d never have expected she had something like it holed up inside of her.
He picked up his beer, toasted Tommy’s picture on a bottle to his left, and took a swig.
Thank goodness, after the luncheon ended and Pat and Robbie had decided to keep the bar open, Charlotte had offered to be his designated driver.
“Not much of a dancer, though,” Pat pointed out. “But she looks damn good doing what she’s doing.”
“She does indeed.” Shane smiled, watching her jump around on the dance floor with Lucy, both of them smiling and laughing and having a helluva a lot of fun. “How much tequila you been putting in their margaritas?”
“It’s not the amount of liquor in each drink as much as the amount of drinks they’re drinking. But don’t worry, the last few had next to nothing. Robbie doesn’t want Lucy passing out on him later.”
“Aaaaaah.” Shane slammed his hands over his ears. “Don’t tell me that. She’s my sister, for chrissakes.”
Pat gave him an unrepentant grin then moved to the other end of the bar. Smart man.
Shane took another sip of beer, ignoring the conversations going on around him in the crowded bar, letting the beat from the jukebox pulse through him, realizing for the first time in a long time he felt good. Content. Happy. He turned on his stool to give his full attention to the reason why.
When she noticed him, her face broke into a whopper of a grin and she waved.
He smiled in return, dipped his head, and held up his beer.
Brooke started toward him, carrying two empty glasses, her gait passably steady in the high-heeled black leather ankle boots she’d borrowed from Lucy, as long as one didn’t look too closely. The skintight distressed jeans that hugged her slender legs and shapely ass, which she filled out much better than his sister ever had, proved an effective distraction to draw the eye away from the random wobbly step.
He’d have to thank Lucy for suggesting they both chan
ge to deflect questions about where they’d run off to after the service and for picking an outfit that would help Brooke blend in.
Placing her empties on the bar in front of him, Brooke turned and gave him a saucy look. “Hey, stranger. Wanna dance?”
“Not to this crap music.”
Of course she knew his refusal wasn’t because of crap music. “The beat too fast? All you have to do is stand there and look handsome while I rub myself all over you.”
He laughed. “Honey, that’s something I’d rather have you do when we’re all alone.” Naked. He reached for her, pulling her to stand between his knees, setting his hands on her hips.
She ran a seductive finger down his chest. “Now that you mention ‘all alone’ you’ve got me thinking. You know what would make tonight perfect?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “If you’d take me outside and nail me in the backseat of your Jeep.”
Holy shit! “Keep your voice down, honey.” He turned to Pat and yelled, “She’s cut off.”
Brooke pushed away from him, completely, drunkenly outraged. “Oh no, I am not.” She leaned both elbows on the bar and smiled sweetly up at Pat. “Am I, Pat?”
“Keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and I’ll give you whatever you want.” Pat flirted right back.
Damn him.
“Two more margaritas, please,” Brooke said with another smile.
Some guy pushed in on Shane’s other side and said, “Make this beauty’s a double shot. I’m buying.”
Shane narrowed his eye at Pat and told him in no uncertain terms, “Make them both virgin and put them on my tab.” He turned to confront the idiot trying to make a move on Brooke, only to find the spot empty.
Then he heard the voice again. “Don’t let this limp-dicked loser ruin your fun time, darlin’.”
Shane whipped around to see a man he didn’t recognize had worked his way between him and Brooke. A little shorter than Shane, he weighed about the same. Probably more fat than muscle, but hard to tell with him all covered up by a loose-fitting, untucked plaid shirt. The guy wore a black tractor cap, well-worn jeans, and work boots. He hadn’t shaved in a day or two, had a cocky look to him, and gave off a strong asshole vibe.
The guy said, “You want to dance, honey? I’ll dance with you.” He leaned in and added, “You want to get nailed in the backseat of my car?” He shot a glance at Shane. “I’d never turn you down.”
A scorching fury ricocheted around inside of Shane, looking for an outlet.
“Thank you,” Brooke said politely. “But I really don’t feel much like dancing anymore.” She tried to step around to get back to Shane, but the asshole blocked her path.
Not a smart move, dumbass. Shane slid off of his stool.
“I’ve seen this loser limping around,” the guy said, his back to Shane. “Word is he’s a war vet. Whatever messed up his leg probably blew up his balls and left him unable to perform—heard that happened to a lot of our boys over there.”
The fury started to build, racing to every part of his body, pulsing and throbbing with each rapid beat of his heart at the implication and the insult. He fought it down, though, unwilling to get into a fight in front of Brooke.
“How dare you say such a thing,” Brooke snapped in her teacher voice. “I’ll have you know there is absolutely nothing wrong with Shane’s balls,” she defended him loudly.
Good lord. Shane pushed past the idiot, putting his arm around Brooke’s shoulders—using her for balance instead of his cane—and turning them both toward the door. “Look at you, liquored up and talking about my balls.” He tried to keep things light; he didn’t want any trouble. “Time to go.”
“No so fast,” the troublemaker said. “My girl wants to dance, she’s going to dance.” He yanked on Brooke’s arm. “With me.” She went stumbling into his chest.
Now the asswipe had gone and done it. Obnoxious words were one thing, but manhandling Brooke? That Shane would not tolerate. “Let. Her. Go.” He shot some pure menace into his tone while he set to work anticipating, planning, and mentally prepping to fight.
“Or what?” Douchebag got up in Shane’s face, apparently looking to get his ass kicked. Damn, his breath stunk.
“Back off.” Shane stared straight ahead, back and forth between the man’s bloodshot eyes, standing his ground.
He heard Pat’s voice yell over the crowd, “Knock it off, you two.” Then he bellowed, “Robbieeee.”
Shane told Brooke, “Go wait for me by Charlotte.” Of course, typical Brooke, she didn’t do what he told her to do.
Instead she said, “Come with me,” and tugged on his hand, messing with his balance. He jerked away and yelled, “Go!”
The guy stood there with both arms crossed over his puffed-up chest, trying to look tough and intimidating. “Maybe you should listen to her. Walk away and save yourself from being humiliated in front of all these nice people.” He spread his arms wide. They’d attracted a crowd.
Well, there’d be no turning back now. Jerkwad got in his face again. A shove to the chest forced him back a few feet, but only because it’d caught him by surprise. “I said back off.”
Brooke jumped in between them, facing him. “You can’t get in a fight, Shane. What if he knocks off your glasses? You can’t see without them. What about your eye? You said yourself if the shrapnel shifts you could go blind.”
“Why, thanks for that helpful information, darlin’,” Jerkwad said. “Now I know where to land my first punch.”
Brooke looked stricken. Her hand flew to her mouth. Panicked brown eyes met his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I shouldn’t have—”
“No. You shouldn’t have. Please go wait with Charlotte.” This time he added a little push in that direction.
“It’s silly to fight.” Brooke pushed back. “If he wants to dance with me I can dance with him one time, then you and I will leave.”
“No.” Unacceptable.
“Sounds like she’s worried I’m going to hurt you,” the idiot taunted. “Smart girl.”
Brooke said, “Robbie. Thank goodness. Make them stop.”
He heard Robbie’s voice. “I’ve got your back, left side.”
His weak, blind side. Did Robbie think he couldn’t handle this guy? “I got this.”
“I know. But why should you have all the fun?”
Jerkwad motioned toward Robbie with his chin. “Your buddy there gonna pick you up when I knock you on your lame ass?”
“You’ll have to knock me on my ass to find out.”
Without warning Brooke flew between them, this time, instead of facing Shane, she faced his opponent. “You want to fight you can fight me,” she said, seriously taking on some type of karate pose.
The jerkwad laughed. “Honey, I don’t want to fight you. And I’d rather you save your energy for what I have planned for us later on.” He looked over Brooke’s head to Shane. “You see this? She doesn’t think you can beat me. How does it feel to have the little woman fight your battles?”
It felt like shit. “Go sit down, Brooke.” He reached out to push her away. The jerkwad did the same and Brooke went after him, landing a solid kick—which is when Shane noticed she’d removed her fancy boots. She followed up with her fists and elbows, her movements quick, practiced, and precise, expert.
The jerkwad tried to fend her off but she outmatched him.
Brooke landed a blow to the side of his neck. He crumpled to the ground. She’d laid him out in under a minute.
The bar had gone quiet. Shane looked around to see dozens of pairs of eyes watching him. Eyes that seemed to say “So sad what he’s become.” “He used to be so tough.” “He used to be capable of fighting his own battles.” “He used to be a real man.” Used to be…but wasn’t anymore.
How could she do this to him? Shane turned, limped toward the bar to get his cane, and made a humiliating retreat. No one stopped him. No one spoke. He felt numb.
—
After tonight, he�
��d never be able to show his face in Sal’s Place again. Once sure her opponent would stay down, Brooke turned to see Shane’s back as he slowly limped to the bar. She ran to get Lucy’s boots and was in the process of slipping them on when Charlotte sat down beside her. “Nice work, princess. Have to admit, I didn’t see that coming.”
One boot on and zipped, she slid her foot into the other, watching Shane out of the corner of her eye. He’d made it halfway to the door. She had to catch him. “An aversion to fighting doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”
“Karate?”
“Black belt.”
“Based on the shocked look on Shane’s face, I’m guessing he didn’t know?”
“It’s not something I talk about.” Brooke loathed violence, but recognized the benefit of self-defense training. So she’d taken a few karate classes. Turned out she liked the discipline, fitness, and coordination required, so she’d stuck with it.
Both boots on, she stood.
“I think you chose a shitty time to enlighten him,” Charlotte said. “Do you really think humiliating him in front of all of his friends was the way to go?”
“I didn’t—” Brooke noticed the bar had gone quiet, the atmosphere somber. People stood watching her. She met Robbie’s eyes; he looked away. Pat shook his head sadly. Lucy wiped a tear.
Brooke turned to Charlotte. “What was I supposed to do? Stand there and let him get beat up?”
“You should have trusted he knew what he was doing.” Charlotte sprang up. “You should have had enough confidence in his abilities to know he wouldn’t get beat up. You should have believed in him.”
“He’s not ready.”
“How do you know? How could you possibly know?” She got in Brooke’s face. “He needed that fight to prove to himself and everyone here he could do it. That he was still tough. Still capable.”
“Even though one perfectly placed punch could have blinded him?”
“Yes,” Charlotte said.
“That’s ridiculous.”
Loving You Is Easy Page 22
