by Jenny Penn
Chapter 7
Thursday, June 6th
Mike smacked his lips, trying desperately to swallow the foul taste that permeated his mouth. There was no help for it. He needed to get up and brush his teeth. Only he couldn’t seem to move. His limbs felt heavy, and his head as if it was full of cotton, except when he tried to move. Then his head felt like it was full of rocks, clacking against his skull and unleashing pounding waves of pain.
Staying still seemed like the best option. Besides, he was quite comfortable. The mattress beneath him was soft but not as soft as the woman curled up in his arms. She smelled good and had big boobs. That was all he really knew right then, and he only knew that much because his face was buried in the silken strands of her hair, his hand curved around a very plump breast.
Mike couldn’t help but give it a little squeeze, smirking to himself when he felt the nipple buried in his palm harden. That wasn’t the only thing growing harder. The woman in his arms murmured and shifted, grinding the plush globes of her ass back up against his morning wood.
He might be hung over and feeling like shit, but he still had it. Mike would even be willing to brave the pain of moving to prove that point and figured that as long as he kept his bedmate face down in the pillows she wouldn’t be able to tell how bad off he actually was. Hell, he couldn’t even crack his eyes open without grimacing and wincing away from the light.
That didn’t stop him, though, from capturing her tit between the sides of his fingers and giving the puckered bud a roll or two. The woman moaned and matched the motion as she rotated her hips in a blatant invitation. Mike was never one to turn down a naked woman, especially not one who smelled as good as this one.
The sweet scent of her cunt filled the air, and he knew she was hot, wet, and ready for him. Mike couldn’t resist testing those waters. So, he risked the pain and slid a hand down over a soft stomach, a smooth mound, and into the swollen folds of a pussy weeping for his touch. She was tight, wet, and had muscle control that made his dick thump against her ass in silent demand to be buried in her.
The cunt clenched around his fingers responded to his cock’s motions, pulsing and rippling with a welcome that had Mike ready to roll the woman in his arms over and bury himself in her, but she moved first. Arching her hips and capturing his dick in the crease of her ass, she pumped herself against him as she moaned and begged for him to take her there.
Mike was halfway there, rolling her over and rising up onto his knees as he gripped her waist and lifted her up. Then he opened his eyes to find his way and blinked against the harsh glare of sunlight only to find himself staring down the graceful curve of Angie’s back.
The tanned, plush globes of her ass were caught between his hands, even as the swollen, flushed length of his dick pumped up and down the sweet crease that divided her cheeks. She was bent over before him, moaning into the pillows as her hips followed the motion of his hand…the hand he had buried in her hot, wet cunt.
That was when it hit him. He was about to fuck her. About to fuck Angie. Mike couldn’t stop. The want, the need, it was all too much, and his body was moving without command. Despite the voice screaming a warning through his head, Mike felt his hips rear back and watched the swollen head of his cock slide down to the shadowed entrance.
He was one breath from taking what he wanted when the panic finally rallied through him, and Mike found himself falling backward. Wrenching himself away from her, he tumbled off the bed and crashed into the floor. He didn’t feel any pain, though. Nothing could penetrate his shock as he watched Angie heave a deep sigh and she scrambled to her knees and frowned down at him.
“I take it you’re not going to take my ass for a ride, huh?”
* * * *
“She offered you what?” Slade gaped at Brett as if he’d lost every marble in his head.
“A porno date night,” Brett repeated with a shrug before pointedly glancing around at the bodies piled up on the floor. “Then this happened.”
This being the rager that had the cops showing up at their door at the three in the morning. It had been impossible at that time to really stop the party. The deputies had helped Brett chase off those who were still standing, but a good half of the partiers had already collapsed in either exhaustion or inebriation, his brother included.
Of course, that had been after Angie challenged him to a drinking competition. Mike had lost, and Angie had won in more ways than one. With his brother barely capable of forming words, she’d led him back to her bedroom. Brett wasn’t sure what had happened from there, but he did know his brother had been way too drunk for anything good to happen. That was just why he hadn’t followed them. After all, somebody had to remain sober and watch over the party.
Brett hadn’t gone to sleep until he was sure that everybody was down and in no danger of drowning in their own vomit. He’d checked in on Angie and Mike then and saw them cuddled up and naked in her bed, but a hard look had assured him nothing had happened.
Neither was sweaty or mussed. More importantly, nothing was sticky. He didn’t know if that was for the better or the worse. Brett had considered the matter as he crawled up into his own bed and had come to no answers before he passed out.
It seemed as though he’d just closed his eyes when a pounding at the back door had him tripping over the bodies still littering the floor to reach the damn thing and make the racket stop. Brett had found the middle Davis brother on the back porch, looking way too wide-eyed and awake for the hour.
He hadn’t offered up an explanation for his visit and Brett was way too tired and hung over to ask. He was trying to catch up, but the coffeemaker worked only so fast. He stood there behind the counter, keeping an eye on the pot as Slade started to pester him with way too many questions.
“Yeah…” Slade drew out that word as he took in the mess all around him. “What exactly was this?”
“A kegger.”
“A kegger?” Slade scowled as if the notion were idiotic. “What are you, eighteen?”
Brett shot him a dirty look for that shot but didn’t bother to respond to it. He decided to pull the coffeepot out before the maker was done. There was enough for a cup. He didn’t care about the sizzling splats that came dripping down onto the burner. He’d clean the damn thing later. Hell, he had a whole house to clean, so what did it really matter?
“What is really going on here?” Slade prodded, clearly unwilling to give up until his curiosity was satisfied.
“Mike thinks he can dissuade Angie by being an ass,” Brett muttered, barely sparing Slade a look as he savored his first sip of bitter heaven.
After two more, he began to feel normal again. Normal, but still tired. Stepping over the two girls crashed out on the floor, Brett ambled around the kitchen counter to settle down into one of the kitchen chairs. Beside him, a man sat slumped over the table, snoring loud enough to irritate.
“So Mike threw a party to be an ass?” Slade pressed with a smirk. “That doesn’t sound right.”
“He’s got a plan.” Normally Mike’s plans were pretty good, but not this time. “Mike’s going to drink too much and whore around until Angie decides he’s too disgusting to bother with.”
“And how is that working for him?” Slade asked, and as if in answer, the sound of a door crashing open echoed down the hall.
It was followed by the thunder of footsteps and the groaned complaints of the people being tripped over. A second later, Mike darted past the doorway. He was naked and appeared to be running for his life, though nobody was chasing him. Mike disappeared, and Brett waited for the slam of their bedroom door before he shrugged.
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to say it’s probably not going well.”
“I think I can see that.” Slade snorted and shook his head at Brett. “You know this isn’t going to help your reputation, don’t you?”
“I’m not worried about my reputation,” Brett assured him.
“No? Then what are you worried about?”
>
“Mike.” That was the God’s honest truth. “I mean, this thing with Angie…it could be good. Really good. She’s a great lady and hot. Man, does she look good…”
Brett sighed as he remembered how good. He couldn’t help but smile as he considered how much better she’d feel, but he didn’t dare linger on that though. Not unless he wanted to be more uncomfortable than he already was. Shaking his head to clear it of the memory of Angie walking out of the bathroom wearing nothing by a golden tan and a glistening sheen of water…
“Hey!” Slade snapped and kicked Brett’s chair. “Whatever it is that’s got you smiling like that, either do something about it or stop thinking about it.”
“Yeah, see that’s the problem.” Brett smiled sadly as he focused once again on Slade. “I want her. I’m going to have her. The only question is what it’s going to cost me.”
“You afraid of losing your freedom?”
“No.” Brett shook his head. “That’s not it.”
He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have a chance. Mike came slamming out of the bedroom and storming into the kitchen, looking like a man who had just lost a serious battle. His hair was a mess. His clothing wrinkled. His eyes were bloodshot, and the stubble on his chin was thick and dark. He paused at the first sight of Slade and glared at the man.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Mike didn’t even give Slade a chance to answer before he turned his scowl on Brett. “And what the hell happened last night?”
“Shhh!” Brett lifted a finger to lips as the mass of people strewn about the place grumbled and shifted, roused by Mike’s thunderous tone.
It was too late, though, and people started to wake up enough to need assistance in finding the door. Mike sure as hell didn’t offer it. He was too busy with the coffee and then trying to find something to eat. Brett heard Angie moving about, too, which explained the people who came stumbling out of the hall.
Angie wasn’t actually one of them, and from the sound of water running through the pipes, Brett guessed she was getting a shower. She’d finished by the time he’d managed to clear everybody out of the house. He ambled back into the kitchen to find Slade at the stove, frying up a batch of bacon while Mike sat at the kitchen table with his head hung over.
“How you feeling this morning, man?” Brett stopped to ask his brother that question as he picked up the two mugs from the table.
It earned him a dark look as Mike’s eyes shifted upward. His chin remained buried in his chest, and he looked like a wounded, feral animal. Brett didn’t want to get bitten. So he held his hands up in surrender and backed away.
“Forget I asked.”
“I’d like to forget the whole fucking night,” Mike grumbled.
“You remember it?” Slade turned from the frying pan sizzling before him to cast a curious look over at Mike, whose scowl only deepened at that question.
“No, but I woke up naked in Angie’s bed. I think that speaks for itself.”
“Trust me, nothing happened.” Brett lifted the coffeepot out of the maker, filling both mugs before returning Mike’s to him. “Even if she’d mounted you, you weren’t in any condition to take that ride…unless you took one this morning?”
Brett was guessing no but that it had been a near thing given the look Mike shot him. His brother didn’t answer, though. He didn’t have to. The heat racing across Mike’s cheeks spoke for him. He was blushing. Mike didn’t blush. That never happened.
“Man. Oh, man.” Brett plopped down in the seat across from Mike and leaned forward eagerly. “Tell me everything.”
“No!” Mike drew back as if Brett was the pervert, but it wasn’t as if they hadn’t had these conversations before. Then again Slade was there, and this was Angie.
“Later then.”
“No!” Mike snapped. “Nothing happened.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I swear it.”
“Sure.” Brett didn’t believe that for a moment, but he did believe his brother would never admit to what had happened.
“You know who you remind me of?” Slade asked as he came to dump a plate full of crispy bacon right beneath Mike’s nose. “Chase.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, even though I know you don’t mean it as one.” Mike also took the bacon, beginning to devour it like a man who hadn’t eaten in months.
“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” Slade assured him as he stepped back to attend to the rest of the strips he still had frying in the pan. “But you’re wearing the same constipated face that Chase kept making when Patton came home to claim him. Let me tell you, fighting it doesn’t solve anything. Fucking...”
“Shut up, Slade,” Mike grumbled. “This situation with Angie isn’t anything like yours with Patton.”
“Well, that might be true,” Slade allowed. “After all, Patton is crazier and so is Chase. This whole Lana business has him twisted in knots, and Patton running wild isn’t helping, which is just why they’re sorting things back out at home right now.”
“Yeah?” Brett quirked a brow at that. “He got her tied up?”
“Actually, he spent most the night dismantling her motorcycle.” Slade’s grin grew, making it clear he approved of his brother’s destruction. His smile dipped, though, as he admitted, “Of course, she’s probably online ordering up another one.”
“She could just ask Hailey to put it back together,” Mike suggested, his words sounding as worn out as he looked. “Hailey could rebuild the bike faster than Chase can tear it apart.”
That was the truth. Hailey was a hell of a mechanic and an amazing blacksmith. She was also, apparently, tamed, which was just depressing. Brett sighed as Slade shook his head and shot down that idea.
“Chase has already talked to Cole and Kyle. They got Hailey under control. She won’t be bringing her tools out to the ranch any time soon.”
“I don’t even want to know what you mean by that.” But Brett would take care of the matter because nobody controlled his sister, or his brother. “Oh God. I know that look. You’re planning on making trouble.”
“Me?” Mike snorted at that before finding his first smile of the day. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Uh-huh,” Brett agreed with clear disbelief, making a mockery of his words.
“See, just like Chase.” Slade sighed and dropped another plate of bacon on the table before plopping into a seat. “I do not envy you having to put up with what’s coming.”
“And what’s that?” Mike demanded, stiffening up in his seat.
“You breaking her heart.”
“Please.” Mike snorted and rolled his eyes. “That is exactly what I’m trying to avoid.”
“I’ll tell you what, man, prove me wrong.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Mike scoffed. “Live happily ever after with the girl?”
“Why not?”
“Because nobody lives happily ever after.”
That truth popped out, and Brett knew Mike hadn’t meant to reveal that much. That depressing bit of pessimism was their father’s damn fault. Brett really hated the man for what he’d done to his siblings. At least Hailey was willing to take a chance, even if she did have poor taste. Mike, Brett feared, would never be able to get over their dad’s desertion.
Even if there had been any point to arguing with his brother, there wasn’t time. All three men fell silent at the sound of a door being opened. It was followed by the shuffle of footsteps. Seconds later, Angie came shuffling into the kitchen.
Wearing a pair of faded gray sweats that hung low on her hips and a white tank top that molded to her breasts and flat stomach like second skin, she looked so damn good it made Brett ache in all the best ways.
“I see you decided to put on some clothes this morning.” Despite his best attempt to sound as though he was joking, there was no disguising the strain in Mike’s tone. It added a sharpness to his words that had him sounding like an ass yet again.
Angie pause
d to cast a dark look over at Mike. “Don’t worry. I’ll strip down when I get to work.”
“Wait a minute.” Brett spoke up from his corner, drawing Angie’s gaze toward the table and the two men sitting there. “You’re not prancing around all day naked at the club.”
“Club rules.” Angie shrugged. “Isn’t that right, Slade?”
“That’s right.”
The man nodded in agreement, though his gaze and smirk remained firmly fixated on Brett. Brett paid him no mind. He was too busy trying to ignore the acidic bite of jealousy at the idea of all those men ogling Angie.
“Well now, there is a new rule,” Mike declared, not shockingly siding with Brett. “Angie remains clothed, or we quit.”
“It’s a club rule,” Angie shot back but Mike remained unmoved.
“Slade is making an exception.”
“He can’t do that…can you?” Angie frowned as both Mike and her turned to glare at Slade.
Slade frowned then sighed and finally shrugged. “Yeah. We’ll make an exception.”
“Fine,” Angie snapped. She turned back around to storm out of the kitchen.
“And don’t forget panties!” Brett hollered after her. Angie’s response came seconds later as her bedroom door slammed closed.
“That was fun,” Brett admitted as he broke into a round of chuckles.
“I don’t think it was for Mike,” Slade commented as both men turned to study him.
His fist was clenched around his mug, his knuckles white, his fingers tensed. A tick even began to twitch above his brow and only by a visible force of will did he manage to relax his muscles enough to force a smile.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Slade murmured with blatant amusement.
“You know what the sad part is?” Brett asked as he leaned across the table to whisper loud enough for Mike to hear him clear as day. “The bastard hasn’t even kissed her yet.”
“Really?” Slade lifted a brow.
“I think he’s scared.”
