by Harlow Cole
I’d fought off the urge to Google him. To find out for myself how her face linked to his name. I’d seen the pain of those investigations too many times. I could still picture him, a younger Brayden, tethered to his father by a search engine query and a gossip rag post. I could imagine him, seated at a computer, seeing his mother’s face for the very first time.
I wouldn’t fall into the same trap myself. Not knowing was the best possible answer. But, even playing out this role, I hated thinking of myself as the other woman.
I’d walked in on that once, too.
I didn’t ever want to be her.
He scoffed at my notion. “Of course not.”
I couldn’t tell between truth and playing along. It didn’t matter. Most likely, she was one of many. The Prince of Gotham probably had a vast array of hearts in his collection. She probably sat in his display case with all his other shiny toys.
His hands splayed across my back, dropped down over my waist, and then squeezed my ass through the thin cotton of my dress. They heated my skin and expertly forced me toward making my next move in the game.
The flip side of weakness is strength. Where you find one, you can always dig deep to find the other.
Giving in didn’t have to make me fragile. I could take solace for just a little bit and then stand strong enough to let it float away. I wouldn’t become a puppet if I kept holding all the strings.
My foot tangled with his and then toed up the inside of his calf until my inner thigh hitched across his hip. His fingers dug into me harder.
“Make love to me, Brayden.” The words came out so softly, they almost got lost in the breeze blowing across our nest of pillows.
“Goddamn, I thought you’d never ask.”
He rolled on top of me in one swift motion, like he’d been standing at the ready for those words his whole life. His elbows bent at the sides of my head, caging me in. Our eyes searched one another, opponents suddenly placed on the home team.
My head turned to the right. I gently leaned over to place my lips against the jagged red scar on his inner arm, kissing away the hurt. He drew in a deep breath. As soon as my head turned back, his lips crashed down onto mine, and his lower half pressed down against me.
My hands found the back of his neck, nails digging into flesh. His hands responded in kind against my hips, drawing my dress up around my thighs. His lips trailed wet kisses down the side of my neck, over my collarbone, and to the top of my breasts that peaked over the hem of the scoop neck. It was held in place by a string that laced up the front and tied in a bow. He pressed up onto an elbow again, staring down at me with glistening lips and hooded eyes. A hand tugged on the end of the string, unraveling me in more ways than one. He plucked at the laces, slowly loosening them, revealing cleavage as he went.
“I’ve missed this, too. God, how I’ve missed this.”
“My boobs?” My laugh stalled as his index finger traced a straight line between my breasts.
“No. Little sundresses that skim across your thighs and barely hold in these tits. Pale cotton against sun-kissed freckles. Fucking teases the hell out of me. My dick burns to get to what’s underneath. All those stupid women out there, wearing skintight dresses that hide nothing. So dumb. You. Right here. Right now. This is the sexiest thing in the world to me.”
He pulled my dress all the way open, letting it gape down the front to expose the white lace of my demi cup bra. My hands instinctively reached to cover myself. The mention of all those fancy women out there, the ones who’d shared morphed names and magazine covers, left me feeling simple and plain. The Hollywood actress probably wore brand names Joey would drool over. Surely, the European lingerie model did.
“I don’t think all your women wear bras from Target.”
Harsh eyes scolded me. His hands pushed mine away.
“Do you know how many nights I’ve closed my eyes and prayed I’d fall into a dream about these tits? Prayed my mind would let me relive sucking on your nipples till you arched up off the mattress and begged for my dick? I don’t care what the fuck they’re wrapped up in so long as it comes off easily.”
He demonstrated by gruffly tearing at the cups, pressing the lacy fabric down underneath my flesh so that it plumped up, standing at attention, ready for him to make good on what he’d described.
It didn’t take long.
“That’s it. Just like that,” he said, teasing, as his fingertips traced down the arch in my spine.
“Brayden, I need . . .”
“I know, baby girl. I know exactly what you need. You’ve just gotta learn to trust that again.”
He pulled himself up, kneeling between my legs in one swift motion that left the cool night air dancing across heated skin.
“What—”
My protest was interrupted by forceful hands that jerked my dress down my body. I sat up to meet him halfway, reaching back to unclip my bra, desperate to have my skin against his as quickly as possible. All my doubts and fears were gagged and stuffed away in that closet, back behind the happy memories of moments like this that I’d temporarily exposed under the moonlight.
As soon as my upper half was bare, I fumbled for the hem of his shirt, tugging at it with disdain, until he used one hand to lift it off with a simple pull from the back of the neck. Copper muscles ribboned under my hands. He shivered as my fingernails grazed down, across his sides to the V of muscles that bunched above his hip bones. I cupped him through his shorts.
“Now, Ash. I gotta get inside you right now. I’m gonna take it so fucking slow tonight, but I need you around my cock as fast as humanly possible.”
His words spurred our hands. They tangled together, coaxing his belt open, and then teamed up to push his clothes down over his hips. As they fell to the ground, he stood, pulling me up with him. My arms wound around his shoulders, already well versed in his next move.
Expected hands lifted my ass, forcing my legs to wrap around him, pressing us together in places that drew groans from both of us. He walked us backward toward a plush banquet seat that stretched across the stern. He sat with me straddling him, his cock pressing impatiently against my belly.
I turned to glance over my shoulder, checking for eyes lurking through the night. The marina was sadly quiet these days, but the deck rail didn’t give total privacy from the few who might wander by. Some overnighters would stroll into town for dinner and drinks and then come back to crash in their staterooms. And Logan lived in the little apartment above the maintenance shed.
“No one can see us,” Brayden murmured against my lips.
I pulled back and looked up, drawing his mouth onto the pulse of my neck. The stars overhead met my gaze.
“You forgot about your buddy Hercules.”
“That dude’s a perv. Told you he and I had a lot in common.” His lips smiled against mine. “Let’s give him a show.”
He hoisted me up like a feather, positioned me just right, and then pulled against my hips so I easily slid back down, impaled on his cock.
His chest heaved as fingertips dug into the fleshy skin at the top of my ass. “Swear to fucking God, that takes my breath away every single time. There is no place on earth like the inside of your pussy.” He leaned back on his forearms and tore his gaze from my bouncing breasts to look up at the sky. “Be jealous, motherfucker.”
* * *
Brayden
“Stay with me tonight. We can sleep right here. The commute to work in the morning will be amazing.”
“I can’t.”
“Ash, please.”
My fingers trailed down the inside of her thigh, still slick from both of us. I’d lost track of the number of times I made her come. I’d been a man on a mission. I had an insatiable need to banish her memories of anyone else who had come between then and now. I could only do that by giving her some new ones.
Ones she couldn’t walk away from so easily.
Tonight felt different than the times before. Those had been about stealing
what we needed. Filling a burning desire that had to be quenched. But tonight had been more about giving than taking.
She’d pressed her hips forward, meeting my every thrust. Our fingers stayed clasped over her head as we drove toward that first release, our eyes locked on one another.
Open.
Vulnerable. That was the difference.
I could fucking feel it in every breath we’d shared. That barrier Ashley always left between us came down for a little while. Her anger and reluctance had been stuffed down. She’d stayed out of want instead of need.
Tonight, with every breathy gasp, every plea for deeper strokes, every muttered curse, we’d chipped away at one more brick in that wall.
I didn’t want to let that feeling go. I didn’t want her to walk away and force me to fight to get back to this place all over again tomorrow.
There was still an air of bittersweet between us. That scent that lingers when no one knows if it’s the last time.
Before tonight, the last time we’d made love and had time to linger in each other’s arms, was at the boathouse, a dozen nights before the one that sealed our fate. I was still sweaty from practice. She said she didn’t care . . .
“You’d better hush up and fuck me right now. I’ve been waiting for you all afternoon. I was about to give up and resort to my own hand.” She stripped off her clothes and held out her arms.
A sassy little witch with perfect nipples. Her fingers trailed down her belly to tease me.
“Now, Brayden. Right here. Up against the wall. Hurry.”
“I don’t want to hurry. My whole damn life is in a hurry right now. You’re the one thing I’m gonna do real damn slow.”
I ate her out till she was on the cusp of pulling out all my hair. She’d thrashed around like a banshee every time I stopped. Eventually, I’d given her a release. Then I’d spent the rest of the night teasing her till her pussy screamed around my cock.
Over the years, I’d replayed that night in my mind a million times. I could remember the exact outfit she’d left rumpled on the floor. I could remember the smell of coconut on her skin, the lime-green nail polish on her toes and the twisted braid in her hair. Every detail had crystallized.
I didn’t want this night to end, because, in the back of my mind, I fucking feared this would turn out like that.
A night I held on to in the dark.
All alone.
My fingers traced through her folds, soaked from our love.
She swatted at my hand. “Swear to God, there’s no way I can possibly go again. We’ve already broken the world record.”
“We have a lot of time to catch up on.” I pushed past her hand again, zeroing in on her clit. Slow, soft circles.
“Brayden, I have to go. I should’ve been home hours ago.”
“One more.”
“I can’t.”
“I don’t know that word. I don’t do can’t. And, now, you know you’ve thrown down a challenge I have to accept. If I make you come again, you have to agree to something.”
“Lord. What do I have to agree to?”
“That second date.”
My lips trailed across the length of her neck and down over breasts, flushed deep pink from over attention and the scruff on my jaw. She arched up as I scraped my chin across the skin of her belly, descending past her oversensitive clit. I sank to my knees on the side of the banquet seat, looking up at her with a shit-eating grin.
“Brayden.” She said it like a protest, but her thighs clasped around my head as soon as I buried my face between them, flattening my tongue against her. The quick flicks back and forth brought her nails scratching into my scalp.
That shit drove me insane.
“You know better than to challenge me with this, baby. You know I can always make you come this way.”
I thrust two fingers inside her, curling them forward till she arched up again. Her cunt squeezed me.
It wasn’t even a challenge.
“Second date, Ash. A real one. Dinner at the Inn. A ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. A slow walk in the moonlight by the water, and you and me falling asleep in my bed. Naked and spent. After we’ve broken tonight’s record.”
“Brayden, I . . . this can’t go on. I can’t . . .”
“There’s that word again.”
My fingers curled again as my tongue worked to drive that word right out of her.
13
Forbidden
Ashley
“You’re home awfully late.”
My palm pressed to my chest, barely containing my shocked gasp. “God, you scared the shit out of me, Nathan. Why are you sitting in the dark like a creeper?”
I flipped on the lamp beside the couch.
He didn’t respond. A half-dozen empty Coors Light cans littered the table beside him. Another sat open in his hand, providing all the answer I needed to what he’d been doing all night long. He was sporting dirty sweatpants, a ratty T-shirt, and a three-day-old beard.
He hadn’t left the house since last Tuesday.
“Where’ve you been?” he asked. He had that tone. The accusatory one that convicted without trial.
“I was at Foxy’s. Susie called in sick. I went to fill in for her.”
I hated lying. But the words fell from my lips with almost no effort. An old habit. Little white lies spread like warmed butter, so easy and tempting.
“Pretty dressed up for work.”
My hand smoothed down the front of the cotton sundress I knew held wrinkles across the back. I wondered if my eyes were still starstruck or if my cheeks were still beard-stung and flushed.
“It was last minute. I didn’t want to pull a shift in my grungy stuff from the marina. I walked over to Joey’s and borrowed this from her.”
“I called your phone. Three times.”
“It died. I forgot to charge it last night.”
Another lie. My phone was at the bottom of my purse somewhere. I’d been otherwise engaged and never heard it ring.
I was a bad sister. A horrible person. What if he’d fallen out of his chair? What if he’d had a migraine and he couldn’t find the medicine? I always answered when he called me at work.
One night with Brayden, and I was already shirking responsibility, acting like someone I didn’t have the luxury of being anymore. A carefree young girl who had time for love and stargazing. I’d spent my whole night caught in an old fairy tale.
He raised the can to his lips, sipping as he stared over the lid at me. I turned away and started back toward the kitchen, trying to escape the need to continue my deceit.
“I know he’s here.”
My hand gripped the white molding of the doorframe.
“Did you think I was too stupid to figure it out?” His tone snapped like a whip. “My legs don’t work, but my ears function just fine. Whole damn town is in an uproar. The hero has finally returned home.”
I half-turned, keeping my traitorous eyes focused on the chipped oak planks lining the floor. I could still feel Brayden’s hands all over me. His scent surely lingered on my skin.
“You weren’t gonna tell me, huh? You’ve seen him, haven’t you? Were you with him tonight?”
“What? No.” My voice faltered. “I told you, I was at work.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I know you’ve seen him.”
I swallowed and finally met his gaze. “I’ve run into him. He sought me out. Not the other way around.”
“What does that jackass possibly have to say to you?”
I licked my lips and prepared to dive. This was what I’d been hoping to avoid. This dose of guilt. It weighed on my shoulders, as heavy still as that very first night in the hospital. “He’s said a lot, Nathan. He knows about the mess we’re in. He wants to help.”
“Oh God. That’s fucking comical.” He threw his head back and snickered. The can lifted to his lips as he swallowed down my news. “We wouldn’
t be in this mess if it weren’t for him. I would’ve gone off to college. Might have been playing minor league ball now. Dad wouldn’t be drunk and hiding out who knows where. And Mom would still be alive.”
“Jesus, Nathan. Brayden didn’t give Mom cancer.”
“He’s what started the chain of bad luck. He upended every plan this family had. And at what cost? His life didn’t change. He ran off and left a wake of destruction. I hold him responsible. For all of it.”
“And me, too, right? Say it, Nathan. Just say it. You hold me responsible, too.”
He shook his head and drained the rest of his beer before crushing the empty can in his fist.
“That new yacht at the marina is his.” There was no way I could uncover just how far I’d fallen back into Brayden’s web, but coming clean about taking some of his money checked one lie off the list.
“Fuck. Of course it is,” he replied sarcastically.
“He’s trying to help. He’s . . . made other offers . . . things that would help dig us out from underneath—”
“Oh, I’m sure he wants to help. I’m sure he wants to ride back in here and save the day. Throw around his money, sign some autographs, and maybe fuck you a time or two, for old time’s sake, before he sails back off into the spotlight with a clear conscience.”
I stared back down at my feet. There was no use in trying to add any more fuel to the fire. I knew this would be my brother’s reaction. Knew him finding out would send him into a downward spiral.
I’d left the marina riding too high.
I had to pay the price for that now.
“Has he?”
“Has he what?” I asked.
“Already made his play for you. He has, hasn’t he? Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not stupid. I see Brayden for what he is.”
“As if.” He snickered. “You never did. Whatever. Go ahead and let him have his way. Act like a filthy slut and spread your legs for him again. He’ll use you and then break your heart all over again. We both know it.”
