by Jenny Penn
“You’re different,” Mike insisted.
“Not really,” Angie denied with a smile as she eyed the thick bulge growing bigger by the second beneath Brett’s zipper.
His eyes had dropped with his request and now remained fixated on the lips of her pussy, making her cunt go all soft and wet. Mike, on the other hand, was growing tenser.
“Angie—”
“And you’re proving it right now. Obviously I’m harder to resist, or are you ready to have that seat?”
That challenge had him turning around and marching stiffly over toward one of the chairs set on the opposite side of the desk. He plopped down, his back straight as a lance, his gaze locked on the wall, his attitude clearly in place. Brett was just as obviously ready to take up the challenge.
He smirked as he settled down into the chair that was about two sizes too small for his oversized frame. Not a little man by far, Brett looked rock hard and solidly male next to the floral fabric. Mike, with his features gathered into a scowl, looked darkly dangerous and sexy as hell. If only he walked around naked, then they could have some real fun.
That thought put smile on Angie’s face as she repeated her earlier offer. “Something to drink?”
“Oh, screw the damn drink!” Mike pointed to the chair on the opposite side of the desk as he tried to boss her around. “Sit the fuck down. We’ve got some stuff to discuss.”
“Well, when you put it like that, how can a lady resist?”
Angie smirked, intentionally taunting him by sauntering up to plop her ass down into his lap. There was no hiding the welcome waiting for her there. He was hard and large. That just fed her lust all the more, making her brazen enough to grind her ass into the thick length of his erection as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pumped her breasts against his chest as she gazed up at him.
“So? What exactly is it that you wanted?” Angie purred as if she couldn’t tell. Want it Mike might, but take it…the bastard just refused.
“Don’t make me dump you on the floor,” he ground out, barely managing to loosen his jaw enough to get the words said.
Angie blinked, remaining still and silent as she all but dared him to try. Of course, he had to. She knew he would, but she’d practiced long enough with a stripper pole to know how to hang on as he stood up. Mike’s expression was almost laughable, and Angie couldn’t help the giggles that escaped when he actually tried to shake her loose. Brett’s deep chuckles rumbled beneath her lighter laughter, his tone filled with amusement.
“Hey, brother, I think you got a woman stuck to you,” Brett informed him as if Mike didn’t know, earning him a glare from his brother and another laugh from Angie.
“Let go!” Mike snapped but didn’t force the issue.
He didn’t have to. Angie could tell he was feeling stubborn and grumpy. With an indignant sigh, she released him and stepped back to shake her head up at him.
“Well, aren’t you grouchy?” she muttered as she cast a frown in Mike’s direction.
“Yes, I am,” he shot back. “You’re denying us women.”
Angie snorted at that as she retreated around her desk. “I’m just evening the odds. No dick for me, no pussy for you.”
That sounded reasonable to her, though the truth was much simpler. She was jealous. Angie hated the feeling. It made her sick and irrational and made her do stupid things. Looking stupid was her greatest fear.
Actually, it was her second. Being alone was her first, but she didn’t have to worry about that. Fate had assured her long ago that these two brothers were the men meant for her. Of course, fate was a screwy thing, and Angie had to admit she wasn’t sure if it had done her right or wrong.
“Don’t you have any pride?” Mike demanded to know in a blatant attempt to shame her, but Angie had no shame. She just shrugged.
“What does pride have to do with this? We’re talking about sex. It’s not exactly a dignified sport, at least not if you’re any good at it.”
“And how the hell would you know, virgin?” Brett retorted, answering before she could. “Oh, that’s right. You take dick in a whole lot of ways, just not the best one.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
Angie had no complaints, but she could tell Brett did, thanks to the tense line that had formed over the bow of his very kissable lips. He was forcing his smile and gritting his teeth. There could only be one reason for his sudden sourness.
“After all, I like variety,” Angie pressed, secretly thrilling at the glower growing in both brothers’ gazes. “And around here, what Angie likes, Angie gets. Got me?”
“That’s fine.” Mike’s soft tone didn’t blunt the menace echoing in his words as he leaned forward over Lana’s desk and pinned Angie with a feral look that sent both a thrill and warning racing through her.
He really was a handsome fellow. Mike’s scowl only highlighted the rough, rugged cut of his features. It was as though he’d been carved from stone by a master sculptor, one who had captured the dark, tormented depths of his soul. The sight made Angie’s heart ache.
She wished she could soothe away his worries and fears, assure him everything would be all right, but Angie knew Mike would never accept that kind of gesture. He’d see it as pity and was way too hard to tolerate that kind of weakness.
“Go get yourself whatever the hell it is you want and leave us alone.”
“And would that really make you happy, Mike?” Angie lifted a brow, daring to taunt him with the most outlandish of threats. “I tell you what. You agree to sit and watch, and I’ll let you pick out the man.”
All he had to do was say yes and Angie would have known that he wasn’t the one for her, but Mike didn’t say it. He didn’t even respond to her offer but sulked deeper into his seat with a belligerent frown drawing at his brow.
“This is about that stupid fucking dream, isn’t it?” Mike grumbled of disgust. “That was years ago. I would think by now you’d grown up enough to realize the idiocy of basing your whole life on a dream!”
“You think I’m any more thrilled about this situation than you?” Angie snorted, deciding on trying a different angle. She was going to prick his pride because everybody knew he had a lot of it. “For God’s sakes, Mike, look at yourself.”
“What?” Like a dumbass, he looked down at himself and scowled. “There is nothing wrong with me.”
“Please,” Angie snorted and rolled her eyes. “Maybe if I was…well, I mean, do you really, honestly, think that a woman like me wouldn’t want to aim a little higher?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the princess here thinks her delicate ass is too good for us,” Brett answered, sounding far from insulted. Mike, on the other hand, was red enough to make a tomato envious.
“Is that right?”
“I’m sorry.” Angie offered him that apology with a half-hearted, pitying smile. “But I make like four times what you do. Not to mention I’m better educated and, honestly, a lot more popular. I’ve got to figure I’m, at least, four steps above you. Crazy or not.”
“Steps?” Mike gaped at her as if she’d lost her mind. “There are steps now?”
“Of course there are,” Brett agreed, leaning back smugly in his seat and making it clear he knew just what Angie was up to. “And princess likes the idea of getting dirty with the big, bad boys, don’t you?”
“You may be that big,” Angie assured him. “But you’re not that bad.”
“You’re all but begging us to corrupt you.”
“I never beg.” Angie never would.
“And what do you call grinding up against us naked at every opportunity?” Mike asked in exasperation.
“Marketing.” Angie smiled.
“Ha!” Brett erupted with a spontaneous laugh that rumbled on as he shook his head at her. “You are too much, and I think Mike’s right. It’s time we set some rules.”
“Rules?” Angie heaved a heavy sight. That sounded so confining. “Must w
e?”
“Absolutely.” Mike nodded as he finally settled down in his seat. “Get a pen out. We’re laying down the law.”
“Really? And what’s the penalty if I break it?” Angie lifted a brow, certain that the answer didn’t matter. She would be breaking it. Mike knew it just as she knew he didn’t have a clue as to what to do about it.
“Get a pen!”
* * * *
Mike glared across the desk at Angie, refusing to let his eyes stray as she made a show of getting up and bending over to retrieve a pad and pen from the lowest drawer in the desk. She might have the best ass he’d ever seen, but he cared more for her than that.
And he did care.
That was what was eating up. He knew what kind of guy he was, and it wasn’t a good one. He’d done things, horrible things. Not just to the enemy. He’d broken more than one woman’s heart. He’d broken too many to count. He was that kind of bastard, and Angie deserved better.
That was what Mike was trying to do there, save her. Save himself. He would do it to. It was that simple determination that had made him such a good solider. He latched onto that goal and refused to let go. He was a marine. He wasn’t about to let some little girl take him down.
Of course, the Corps had never trained him to handle the kind of temptation Angie presented as she settled back down in her seat and scooted her chair forward in a motion that had those perfect tits bouncing. She knew exactly what she was about. Her smile assured Mike of that.
Angie held his gaze, the light twinkling in her eyes as all the secrets of the universe seemed to shine out of them. The promise of a life full of love and happiness, of tenderness and joy, of frustration and aggravation, and every other thing that scared the living crap out of him. Mike knew who he was, and he was not that man.
Neither was Brett, but then his twin wasn’t particularly insightful either. Left to his own devices, he’d probably end up married to Angie—married and divorced, leaving behind kids and a broken-hearted woman. That was the fate Mike was trying to save Angie from, but it would have helped if she didn’t seem so eager to throw herself into the fire.
“Okay.” Angie licked her lips and wiggled in her seat as she clearly settled into the role of the leader. “Rule number one—”
“No running around the house naked,” Mike cut in, asserting his dominance, not that she paid him any mind.
“No sex of any kind with anybody else.”
“I don’t think so.”
Keeping Brett entertained with a little pussy on the side would definitely help keep him out of Angie’s, and Mike wasn’t going to let his brother take him down. That was what would happen if they limited themselves, but Angie wasn’t listening.
“Rule number two, all hard-ons are to be attended to promptly.”
“I don’t get it,” Brett cut in, sounding honestly confused and more than a little amused. “If we’re not allowed pussy than how—oh, wait. I get it. I can agree to that rule, but I’ve got to point out something—”
“Brett—” Mike tried to cut him off, knowing exactly where his brother was heading, but there was no stopping him.
“I got about twelve inches that need attending to, darlin’, so, according to your rules…”
Brett didn’t finish that thought. He just smiled and leaned back in his seat, thrusting his hips slightly up and drawing everybody’s attention to the prominent bulge growing behind his zipper.
“Oh, I think now it’s thirteen,” Brett warned Angie. “You better get up and over here, darlin’, before it reaches fourteen and I decide to take that ass for a ride instead.”
Angie tipped her head back and laughed, enjoying the moment. She took her time as she shoved her chair back, clearly planning on giving Brett exactly what he asked for. Mike knew what would come next. Fear and panic shot through him.
This was all happening too fast.
He didn’t have a plan. He always had a plan. What was he going to do? Mike didn’t know, but that didn’t stop him from catching Angie’s wrist as she came around the desk and tried to saunter past him. He meant to tell her to sit her ass right back down, but those weren’t the words that came out of his mouth.
“Have a seat.”
That sounded more like an invitation than a command thanks to the husky want thickening his tone. Angie heard the difference. Her smile grew wider as she glanced down at the bulge in Mike’s jeans before looking back up and pinning him with a pointed look.
“On that thing? It might poke me.”
Brett bust out laughing once again. Angie began to sink down to her knees in a sexy motion that had the blood roaring through Mike’s veins as his dick swelled painfully harder.
“Maybe I ought to take care of that for you before you hurt somebody,” Angie purred as she pressed herself between his knees.
Her tits, all flushed and full, brushed against his thighs and had his fingers digging into the arms of his chair as he fought the need to touch. That wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted a taste, too. A taste of those tits, and to make a whole damn meal out of the wet pussy scenting the air with the sweet aroma of feminine arousal.
Mike’s gaze dipped down past the graceful curve of Angie’s waist to the naked folds of her cunt. They were swollen and glistening with cream, and he swore right then and there that before this war ended he would know just how good she tasted and how hard she could come. In that second, a primitive, feral urge rose up through him, defying the logic and reason that assured him he should run.
Run now before it was too late.
The panic damn near overwhelmed him, and instinct kicked in as his legs kicked back, sending him toppling over in his chair. Mike crashed into the floor and scrambled to his feet, taking off without a thought as to what he was fleeing or where he was running to.
* * * *
Brett sighed as he watched his brother flee like a little girl being chased by a bee. It was humiliating, but he understood. Angie clearly didn’t. She stared after Mike with a confused scowl, replacing the sultry look that had set her features aglow seconds ago. She glanced over at him, and he could see the doubts clouding the brilliant glimmer in her eyes before she swallowed them back and forced a smile, no doubt for his benefit.
“Was it something I said?” Angie joked, but Brett knew Mike had hurt her.
“Mike gets panic attacks sometimes,” Brett admitted with a sigh. Shoving out of his seat, he avoided her gaze as he turned toward the door. “I better go check on him.”
“Brett?” The uncertainty in Angie’s voice had him pausing by the door to glance back her, still kneeling there looking almost lost.
“It’s not you…well, maybe it is, but it’s not because of you.” Brett knew that didn’t make any sense, but he didn’t know what else to say.
Even if he did, he didn’t want to talk about it. What they’d seen, what they’d endured, those were their demons to carry and cope with. If they had to be shared, then they would be shared between them. Brett wasn’t about to tarnish a creature as soft and sweet as Angie with all the horrors he’d seen during war.
Turning, he left her kneeling there and walked away. Brett didn’t have to look for Mike. He knew where he’d run off to, and sure enough, a half hour later when he pulled his truck into the shade of a cluster of oaks, he could see his brother’s legs hanging down from the old gnarled branch they used to climb up to and stare out over the massive, man-made lake.
Back then, they’d been young and had shared their dreams of the wild life they intended to live. Their stories and tales had been so full of excitement and victories. They’d been so naïve about the price of that kind of life. Now that they knew, the question really was what they were going to do next. There was no better place to find that answer than here.
It might have been a decade since he’d climbed their old oak, but the motions were still trained into his muscles. The only difference this time was that the limb he settled down on to next to his brother groaned beneath their comb
ined weigh. For a moment, Brett worried that they might be taking the expressway down, but the branch held, even if it did dip a little.
“You need to lose some weight,” Mike commented without bothering to look over at Brett, who scoffed instantly at that monotone reprimand.
“You weigh more than me.”
“Six percent body fat,” Mike shot back, touting his most favorite number because he knew Brett’s was seven. No matter how hard he tried, his brother was always just a little harder than him.
“Well, at least I didn’t run screaming from the room because a naked girl was about ready to give me a blow job.” Brett knew that was low and insensitive, but that was him. He didn’t do serious talks. They made him feel strange and uncomfortable.
“I wasn’t screaming,” Mike muttered as he rolled his eyes. “And I wasn’t running. I was escaping.”
“A naked woman?”
“A failed marriage,” Mike corrected him, giving voice to the fear Brett knew had lived within his brother since their father had walked away.
The bastard had just upped and left years ago without a single word or ever once looking back. That didn’t mean that Brett didn’t know that he’d moved down to Dothan, married another woman, and started a whole new family. Apparently, he liked that one better.
Only Hailey had seen him since, and only once. Apparently, their dad had shown up at the lawyer’s office to claim his half of their mom’s life insurance after she’d died.
Brett hadn’t been there, which was probably a good thing because God knew he’d like to beat the crap out of the man for what he’d done to his brother and sister. Both Hailey and Mike were sensitive souls. Both had been devastated. Not Brett, though. He was just angry. He’d put that anger to good use over the years, so maybe he should have been thankful.
“Maybe we should move out of the house,” Mike suggested, bringing up that topic once again.
“So, that really is your solution.” Brett cast a disappointed look in Mike’s direction. “You just want to run away.”
