Tears filled her eyes.
“We both know you need this job, Ella. You’re not going to quit school, and this is the only way for you to make enough money to support yourself. We’ll be helping each other out,” he said, licking his lips.
She nodded, a lone tear streaking down her cheek. She hastily swiped it away, hating that she was showing any weakness around him.
“And you know what I need.”
“What?” she whispered.
He appraised her, his eyes flicking over her cleavage. Down her stomach. Lingering on her bare thighs. He honed in on her breasts again. “A kiss.”
Her heart beat wildly in her chest as her breasts heaved up and down. She might as well have been wearing nothing at all with the amount of skin she was showing. With the way he leered at her. She didn’t miss the bulge in his pants, and bile rose in the back of her throat.
“Just one kiss?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“One kiss,” he promised. He stepped closer as she backed against the wall. She felt exposed in the revealing uniform, but a kiss wouldn’t be so bad. I mean, yes, he reeked of cigarette smoke and she wasn’t remotely attracted to him, but it’s not like she was sleeping with him or something. She’d let him kiss her and then use an entire bottle of mouthwash to get rid of the memory of it.
And a kiss wouldn’t hurt, unlike the threatening way he’d squeezed her arm before. It had been hard enough to leave a bruise, but it wasn’t like he’d hit her or something. Just grabbed her to get her attention. And she could leave if she wanted—just push him away and go. He’d let her leave his office, wouldn’t he? She was the one who was making the decision to stay.
Frank stopped in front of her, his eyes filling with arousal, and she couldn’t help trembling. He leered at her, looking like a predator stalking his prey, and ducked low, his nose skimming across her cleavage.
“Wh—what are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking.
Fat fingers edged under the trim of her bodice as he looked at her, daring her to stop him. He tugged it down, revealing one breast.
“You didn’t say where I could kiss you,” he chastised, greedily kissing her breast. She shook in fear, and his hands dug into her hips, holding her against the wall. He licked her nipple and sucked it into his mouth, slobbering all over her.
“Stop, please stop!”
Nausea roiled through her stomach, and she wanted to throw up all over him. To collapse onto the floor in sobs. Of course he wouldn’t let her get away with just a chaste kiss. Not when he’d made his intentions toward her clear. He’d always leered at Brianna in the past, but she was long gone. And never would have put up with this shit.
Frank stood back up and eyed her, looking smug. He tweaked her bare breast with his fingers, causing her to jump and pushed her against the wall so that his erection ground into her stomach. His hand possessively covered her breast as he ducked his head, his lips at her ear. Rough fingers massaged her flesh, and he groaned in approval. “You have perfect tits, Ella. Next time you need a favor, like keeping your job, I’ll be wanting much more than one little taste.”
He backed away, and she stood there shaking, too shocked to even cover her exposed breast.
“And cover yourself up,” he said, turning toward the door. “I don’t need anyone getting any ideas about us.”
Chapter 9
The doorbell of Brent’s apartment rang Friday night, followed by a loud knock, and Brent muttered a curse as he tugged a fresh tee shirt and clean pair of jeans on. Steam from the bathroom escaped as he walked down the hallway toward his front door. His brother was supposed to call him when he arrived at the airport in Richmond, several hours away, but leave it to Brock to do things his own way. Trudging barefoot across his apartment, Brent threw open the front door and took in his younger brother—two inches taller than him, leaner, with the same jet black hair and piercing blue eyes. Brock, however, looked slightly more pulled together in jeans, shirt, and casual blazer, appearing every part the NYPD detective.
“No phone call?” Brent asked. “I could’ve hooked you up with a ride. Buddy of mine from base was out that way.”
“I hooked up all right. Met a babe in the airport and banged her in the back of her rental car. She was meeting some girlfriends for a getaway at Virginia Beach and gave me a lift from Richmond.”
Brent chuckled. “No shit. How’d you manage that? Can’t believe she’d drive your sorry ass around for several hours. You must’ve shown her a damn good time.”
Brock laughed and dropped his duffle bag on the ground. “Showed her my badge.”
“Is that what you’re calling your dick these days?”
“Fucker. She said normally she wouldn’t give a man she didn’t know a ride, but she trusted me since I was a cop.”
“So she’s an idiot.”
“Had the body of a centerfold. That’s good enough for me.”
“Where’d she drop you off?”
“Hotel on the main drag,” Brock said with a chuckle. “I had to pay for a cab over to your place.”
Brent shook his head as Brock walked over and collapsed on the sofa, stretching one long arm across the back. That shit was exactly what he would’ve done, too. He was a goddamn expert at slipping away, leaving a woman wondering where he’d disappeared to. He never in a million years should’ve made that dick move with Ella though. Twenty-four hours later, and he still couldn’t get her hurt expression out of his mind.
“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Brock asked. “I came down all the way from New York to grace you with my presence this weekend. Relive the good old days. Beers and babes?”
Brent smirked. “Some things never change.”
“Says the man who’s slept with a million women.”
“Even I haven’t gotten laid that much. A couple of guys on the team are meeting up for beers. No worries though—the women are everywhere down here.”
Brock plucked a red satin thong from between the cushions on Brent’s sofa and held it in the air with a grin. “I’d say so. I don’t suppose the owner of these has any attractive friends?”
Memories of the other night flashed though Brent’s mind—of bringing a woman back in the early morning hours. Whipping her dress off as they kissed each other thoroughly. Pulling her panties down with his teeth. Rather than relishing in the aftermath though, his gut churned. What the hell did he care if his brother knew he’d had a woman here earlier this week? He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. And normally he’d be dishing out the dirty details faster than anyone could ask.
“Guess she wanted to leave me a little souvenir,” he muttered. Instantly, he felt guilty, which was fucking ridiculous. Why wouldn’t he have brought a woman home with him a few days ago? His little spat with Ella last night didn’t mean shit.
“Maybe you can collect a few more pairs tonight,” Brock said with a gleam in his eye. “I could go for some tanned, toned hotties.”
“Plenty of those around. Too many.”
“Hey, If you’re not interested, more for me,” Brock chuckled. “Are you just in a shit mood tonight because of Lizzie?”
“What?”
“You can’t beat yourself up about it forever. I miss her, too. I’m pissed as hell about it. But you’ve got to move on with your life.”
Of course his brother would instantly assume that was the reason for his somber mood. It usually was.
“That shit’s not your fault,” Brock chastised.
“The hell it isn’t,” Brent snapped. “I should’ve done more. Gotten home in time to help her.”
“I’m a fucking cop,” Brock said. “An NYPD detective. I know how restraining orders go. The system’s fucked up. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. Wish that we had been there to protect her. But do I blame myself? There are procedures for those types of things. That asshole hadn’t threatened her yet. The police department’s hands were tied.”
“So you’re sid
ing with them?” Brent asked in disbelief. “Against our own sister?”
“Hell no. I’m just pointing out that the system doesn’t always work. It fucked us over, big time. I work twice as hard as a cop now because of it. I’ve just seen this shit eat you alive for years, man. Live your life.”
“Easier said than done, asshole.”
Brock shook his head and stood. “Guess we’ll agree to disagree.”
“Damn straight,” he muttered.
“So is there still a chance you’re getting called up on an op this weekend? I know you can’t tell me, but I’m just wondering if your sorry ass will still be here in the morning.”
“The hell if I know,” Brent grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket. “But hey, if you meet a woman, make yourself at home.”
Brock shrugged, a grin crossing his face. “Hit me up with your spare key. Let’s work some bars and pick up some women. The Rollins brothers are on the prowl.”
***
Brent leaned back in his chair at a table in the corner of Anchors an hour later, surveying the scene. The Friday night crowd ebbed and flowed around them—young sailors flirting with pretty women, college students enjoying a few drinks, and couples out for a night of fun. He took a pull from his longneck, assessing the entire bar. Two giggling women approached them, and he watched as Brock hauled one of them right into his lap. Hell, it was exactly the way he used to hold court—back when the team went out every weekend.
The redhead standing beside her friend and Brock playfully pouted, and Brent resisted the urge to roll his eyes, tugging her over to his side. She smelled like coconuts or some other fruity shit. She had tits that must’ve been D cups. She giggled as he asked her name.
“Are you a cop, too?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Nah, I’m in the Navy.”
The pretty little floral sundress she had on was exactly the type of thing he liked to strip off a woman. It was the type of dress that looked good on his bedroom floor.
“I have a thing for men in uniform,” she said.
Pretty green eyes met his.
Hell.
He just wasn’t feeling it tonight. Not when she stepped closer, her cleavage right at his eye level. Not when she leaned over and whispered in his ear.
A young waitress came over to take their order for another round of drinks, and he saw the rest of his team come walking in, drawing the attention of much of the female crowd. In the old days the guys would’ve loved that type of entrance, but now that they each had their own woman, they barely seemed to notice.
Huh.
Mike led the way, with Christopher and Matthew behind him, and Patrick bringing up the rear. The only man missing was Evan, and Brent wondered if Alison was sick again. The other guys had all left directly from base. Guess the good thing about his brother catching his own ride was that they could start their night earlier, throwing back a few beers before the other guys arrived.
The woman he was all but ignoring finally excused herself, no doubt looking for someone far more attentive than him. He watched as she beelined toward some young guys at the bar. Guess one of them was getting lucky tonight. Matthew stepped off to the side as the team approached, nodding at Brent as he took a phone call. They’d had to work out their shit during training today. Didn’t mean his buddy was happy with him though.
The other guys walked up, smirking as they saw Brock with a woman in his lap.
“No shit, there are two of you?” Mike laughed, slapping Brent on the back. “This is gonna be goddamn good.”
“How’s that?” Patrick asked, raising his eyebrows as he pulled out a chair.
“Twice the entertainment for the evening. If Brent and a woman are a sight to see, can you image double that?”
“Guess you haven’t met Brock yet,” Brent said, raising an eyebrow. “My kid brother.”
“One of New York’s finest,” Brock said. But he wasn’t watching the other men anymore, just gazing at the woman on his lap with lust-filled eyes. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, and he was on his feet in two seconds. “Catch you guys later,” he said, possessively squeezing her ass as he guided her toward the front door.
They disappeared into the crowd, and the other men laughed. “Jesus Christ, he’s just like you,” Christopher said.
“The similarities are uncanny,” Patrick agreed, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why’d you chase her friend away?” Mike asked. “She seemed like your type. What’d you say the other night? Tits and an ass worked for you?”
Brent flicked his gaze over to Mike, anger rising within him. “Just wasn’t feeling it.”
“Ain’t that a fucking first,” Christopher said. His gaze swept over to Patrick, apparently already done with the conversation. “Is Rebecca home with the kids?”
“Affirmative,” Patrick said, his voice low. “She and Alison went out the other night—for smoothies or something since Alison was sick,” he said wryly. The dude looked pretty damn happy though. “So she’s home with the kids tonight. I got word from the CO that we’ll probably get called up in the next week or two. The op got pushed back temporarily.”
Brent raised his eyebrows. “Any reason why?” He’d fully expected the team to be leaving tomorrow. Now he’d be stuck at his place with his brother and whatever woman he dragged home. Not that Brock would keep her around long in the morning—he’d probably come up with some lame ass excuse, just like he’d do himself. Maybe Brock thought his head was in a better place than Brent’s, but who the fuck was he kidding? They both loved to distract themselves with a beautiful woman.
His gaze roamed across the bar, taking in a busty blonde in a hot pink dress. He could lose himself in someone like that for the evening. Squeeze her tits, sink into her pussy. Wouldn’t make him feel better though. And for once his mind was filled with regret about a woman other than his sister.
Ella had been on his mind all fucking day. The hurt look on her face when he’d left last night. Matthew’s accusations this morning. Even when Brent had tried to do right by her, by leaving her there, he’d ended up feeling like shit. He might as well have slept with her. Kissing her sure as shit hadn’t made him okay with walking away from her. It had only made him demand more.
He’d texted a lame ‘I’m sorry’ to her earlier, after getting her cell number from Matthew. But he’d used a burner phone from base. Only way Matthew would give out her digits.
Not that he blamed him.
“Shit,” Matthew muttered, tossing his phone atop the table as he joined the group and sank down into a chair.
Patrick’s cool blue gaze flicked to him. “Everything okay? Thought you decided not to join us after all.”
“I just talked to Bri,” he grumbled. “She called me and was all upset about Ella. Brianna thinks she’s back working at the damn cocktail lounge.”
Brent’s gaze slid to him. “What?” he asked, his voice steel. “Why the hell would Ella go back there? She just flew back today. There’s no way she’d be working there already. Or ever again.”
Matthew shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Some friend of Bri’s called her to say Ella was working a shift tonight. Another waitress who works there, I guess. Now Brianna’s all upset about it.”
“That’s the place where Brianna was attacked?” Patrick asked, his gaze narrowing.
“Hell, she’s smarter than that,” Mike muttered. “Why would she go back there?”
“I guess she needs the cash,” Matthew said. “Brianna’s pretty riled up about it though. She’s been trying to call her since she found out, but Ella’s not picking up her phone. After watching her quit that night we were all down there, I’m surprised she’d be back there at all.”
“Fuck,” Brent muttered.
The eyes of his teammates all swept toward him.
“She said she had a new job lead. That’s why she was leaving early and flying back to Florida today instead of over the weekend.” His gut clenched as h
e imagined Ella back there in one of those skimpy little outfits. When he and his buddies had gone there for a couple of drinks, he’d fucking loved the low-cut bodices baring plenty of cleavage and frilly skirts that just barely covered the waitresses’ asses. But to imagine other men looking at Ella prancing around in that all night?
Fuck no.
Even if she wasn’t his, she shouldn’t be there. Ever. He’d drag her out of there kicking and screaming if he had to. Not that he expected her to put up much of a fight. She hated that place as much as Brianna. Why the hell would she take a job like that again even if it did pay well?
Jesus Christ.
“Yeah, she changed her flight,” Matthew said. “I thought it was because she was pissed off at you.”
Brent nailed him with a glare. “Thanks asshole. She left because she needed to see about a job.”
“When did she say that?” Patrick asked, looking curious.
“Last night,” Brent said, not offering up any further details.
“What, right before you almost slept with her?” Mike laughed. “Doesn’t seem like your usual type of pillow talk. ‘Let me fuck you senseless—by the way, got any new job leads?’”
“No, asshole,” Brent muttered. “We were heading back to my motorcycle after we grabbed some food. She told me she had changed her flight.”
Patrick raised his eyebrows. “You took a woman out to dinner?” A smile tugged at his lips, and Brent could tell he was resisting the urge to laugh. “When should we expect the wedding invitations?”
“Fuck you,” Brent said. “We grabbed some pizza after pool. I was hungry; she was hungry. Big fucking deal.”
Mike shook his head and grinned. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“What?” Brent asked, irritated. “I can’t have a goddamn pizza without you getting up my ass?”
Christopher laughed. “You know what they say—‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall.’ Brent buying a woman dinner must be the equivalent of any other man getting down on one knee.” He grabbed a beer from the tray their waitress brought over and took a long swig. “Didn’t think Brent would ever fucking fall for anyone though.”
Protected by a SEAL (Alpha SEALs, Book 6) Page 10
