by T Gephart
There had been enough lies between us and I wasn’t allowing another. Not now, not when my hand was on him and he was looking at me that way. Like maybe, just maybe he felt something too.
“You still feel that way?” He dipped his head to the side, meeting my gaze.
“Damn it, Eric,” I huffed, frustrated. “You’re not allowed to look at me like that.”
It made me crazy stupid. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to say it to his face, especially when it would be the second time and I hadn’t heard it back.
“Look how?” His brow arched as he continued to smolder. And either he was oblivious or pretending he didn’t know how dangerous those eyes of his were.
“Like that.” I waved my free hand in front of his face, the one on his chest insisting on staying where it was. “It’s not fair.”
“Tia, you’re gorgeous, smart, funny and talented. And I’ve read every single column you’ve written.” He momentarily distracted me from the smoldering with that piece of information, my head doing the saaaay-whattt? my mouth didn’t.
“Every. Single. One.” Each word punctuated like a statement and he was back to smoldering again. “From the minute I saw you, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. You excited the hell out of me and deep down I knew I’d have no choice but to fall in love with you.”
“I love you,” my mouth spilled, not bothering to check if it had been given the green light from my heart or my head. “I love you,” I said again because once hadn’t been enough.
“Good.” His hand grabbed my waist and pulled me in closer, my body hitting his. “Because I love you too, and I wasn’t going to let you walk away.”
He didn’t ask, bending his neck and covering my mouth with his like it had always been his for the taking. It was hard, and intense and a tangle of tongues and lips. Combinations of gasps and growls in place of words completed the rest of the conversation.
My breasts pressed against his chest as his hands moved all over my body. Mine were busy too, reacquainting themselves with his every dip, curve and bulge in his body. He was hard, and demanding—leaving me dizzy as I melted into him, a mess of limbs desperate to get closer.
Nothing was solved, but for now I didn’t care. I loved him and he loved me, and that was enough.
“Seriously?” Ryan spoke from behind us. “Making out with my future wife, Larsson.” He tsked, shaking his head as he sidled Eric “Right in front of me? I thought you had more class.”
“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Eric licked the shell of my ear, his hands not moving from my body.
“We love each other.” I grinned like an idiot, my own hands having a hard time behaving despite an audience.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” He rolled his eyes, trying hard not to smile. “Every single time I leave you both alone together you fall in love. It’s so fucking predictable.”
“Which means your delusions of marrying my girlfriend are over, buddy.” Eric kissed my neck, his hands traveling up the side of my body.
“New York,” Ryan gasped, clutching his chest. “Breaking my heart.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “So I’m assuming you’re sticking around then? Or did you want me to take you somewhere else?”
“I might stick around a little longer.” The idea of going anywhere made me feel physically ill. “If that’s okay with Eric.”
“More than okay,” he whispered against my hair, kissing the top of my head.
“Thank you, Ryan.” I unraveled my body from Eric’s long enough to give him a hug. My arms wrapped around him and squeezed. “Thanks for everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He squeezed back. “Now if my work here is done, I’m going to go call Lila and let her know everything here is cool.”
“You don’t have her number.” Eric’s brow furrowed, looking to me like he missed something.
“I didn’t give it to him.” I shrugged not knowing any more than he did.
“You didn’t, but you are.” Ryan fished out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to me, a big grin across his face. “Think of it as dual purpose. I can tell her that the crisis has been averted so you two can go do whatever you two are going to do.” He held up his hand hinting he didn’t want to know what that was. “And I get her number, which sounds reasonable if you ask me.”
“Make sure she gets sweet Ryan.” I scrolled his contacts and added Lila’s cell. “And don’t leave voice messages, she hates those. If she doesn’t answer, text her.”
“Thanks for the tip.” He retrieved his phone, shoving it back into his pocket. “I’ll see you both later.” He gave us a salute and walked around to the back of the house.
With Ryan disappearing, standing outside when there was a perfectly good house—uh-hmm mansion—seemed a tad ridiculous. Of course ridiculous had been sort of our theme, so it wasn’t unexpected.
“You wanna go inside?” Eric pressed his lips to my hair, his arms still locked around me in an Eric cage.
“Sure.” I gave his arms a light squeeze.
It felt so good to be back in them. If you’d asked me when I came through those gates if I’d be walking back into Eric’s house covered by the man in question, I’d have told you to lay off the crack. It seemed that fate—which in this case was named Ryan—had other ideas, and I was more than grateful to be proven wrong.
“So.” Eric spun me around in his arms so that we were facing each other walking me into the foyer of the house. “As much as I want to take you upstairs and fuck you up against a wall.” He planted a kiss against my neck. “My brothers are in the kitchen and I need to know if we’re good here first.”
Ugh.
Could we do the wall fucking first? I’d be quiet.
Eric pulled me into the living room, giving us a little more privacy. “Are you good here, Tia? I need to hear you say it.”
“Well . . .” I bit my lip, needing to pull up my big girl panties and spill the rest of the intricate plot which brought us to where we were. “So you know how we met.” When I basically misappropriated an invite, using information I obtained under false pretenses, I didn’t add.
“Yeesssss,” he said slowly, brow arching waiting for me to continue.
If he knew about my crush thing—AKA mild obsession—he either had the best poker face known to man. Or had reached such a pinnacle of acting prowess that he’d be giving Daniel Day Lewis a run for his money at the Academy Awards. I wasn’t confident enough to rule either one out, which was why I decided to just go with the truth.
“So, you said that you worked out how I got into the premiere but not why.” I shuffled to the couch, tugging at his arm to follow.
This conversation was definitely better sitting down. So when he found out all the nitty-gritty details it would take him longer to run out the door.
“So you want to tell me why you were there?” He sat down on the couch, pulling me with him into his lap. “You never wrote about it in your column, which is what I originally assumed you were doing it for.”
Yeah, I never did legitimize the trip by writing about it, which in hindsight was a blessing. Can you imagine if I had post-mortemed my encounter with Eric and then unbeknownst to me, he read it? We are talking next level restraining order. I still wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to freak the hell out now.
“Okay.” I took a breath. The sooner I got it over with the better. “So. I was there to meet you.”
Silence.
I wasn’t even sure he blinked.
“Sorry, what?” He tilted his head like he hadn’t heard me correctly.
“I was there.” Swallow. “To meet.” Swallow. “You.”
More silence.
He wasn’t even moving, just sitting there with the blankest look on his face like he couldn’t work out if I was joking or insane. Oh please God, say something.
Now I was freaking out.
Fuck.
This was so bad.
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
“Okay, so I know it sounds sort of crazy.” Sort of crazy? I sounded like a fucking stalker. “But I did not intend for any of this to happen. It wasn’t the plan. I just wanted to meet you. Because you were my number one crush. And I figured if I met you, then I could stop thinking about you. Not that I thought about you every second or anything. But it was probably a lot more than I should.” I word vomited every insane thing that had ever come into my mind because apparently my actions weren’t enough to prove I was ready for an asylum. “It sounds bad, I know that. But it’s not.”
Who the hell was I kidding? It sounded bad? It was bad.
“I was . . .” His brow furrowed not fully comprehending the magnitude of craziness that had just spilled out of my mouth. Fair call, to be honest. “Your crush?”
“Yes.” The word literally squeezed out of my diaphragm like someone had stood on a dog’s chew toy.
I almost couldn’t look. His face was completely vacant. Even those eyes, which usually made my girlie parts turn into Jell-O, ceased fire on their panty-melting assault. He looked like was either contemplating String Theory or—and most likely—had just discovered that the girl he was dating and made love declarations to, was certifiable.
And then like a supernova it happened. A titanic explosion as he threw his head back and erupted into a huge full body laugh. His body contorted. Every muscle in his face crinkled and tears formed at the edges of his eyes. With a laugh that was so deep, throaty and uncontained I wasn’t sure he wasn’t having a seizure.
“Oh, New York.” He wiped his eyes with the heel of his palms. “You did all of that.” He waved his hand in the air at the implied that. “Just to meet me?”
I was still no closer to knowing whether we were going to be wall fucking later or heading to the courthouse for a restraining order.
“Well . . .” Fuck, it’s not like I could sugarcoat it any other way. “Yeah.”
His arms were so quick around me I didn’t have time to gauge their intention. Was it a hug or was he restraining me for the cops—the real ones this time. Could have gone either way, to be honest.
And then I felt his lips, the slide of his tongue against my throat as his fingers trailed across to my breast. It was either the weirdest most erotic citizen’s arrest of all time, or Eric Larsson was making out with me.
Please Lord, let it be the latter.
Our mouths collided, lips and tongues fusing together with a supporting symphony of arms and legs. I was all over him, or maybe it was he who was all over me—there was no way to know for sure.
“That is the best story I’ve ever heard.” Kiss, suck, lick. His fingers curled around my throat as his mouth traveled down my neck. “Is it weird that it turns me on?”
“I’m in no position to judge.” I closed my eyes, loving the feeling of his lips on my skin. “Labels are for narrow-minded assholes anyway.”
Oh Lord in heaven and all the saints.
It was like Christmas, New Year and a birthday all rolled into one. And best of all, I had nothing left to hide.
“Wait.” His lips and hands stilled, which almost stopped my heart. “I approached you in the bar.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t dare breathe. Goddamn it, I knew it was too good to be true.
“So what if I hadn’t seen you?” He narrowed his eyes, remembering that while I may have right place/right time’d myself, it had been he who saw me at the after-party. “Or more importantly, what if I hadn’t spoken to you?”
“Honestly.” I shrugged, not even pretending I didn’t know. “I probably would have had a few drinks and then gone back to my hotel and touched myself. I can’t say the last part didn’t happen anyway.” I mean the crazy was already off the leash, there was no point holding anything back now.
“Did you do that a lot?” His eyes darkened, his voice dropping an octave and sending a shiver down my spine. “Touch yourself when you thought of me?”
“Probably more than I should admit.” Except that I was admitting it and I wasn’t even embarrassed.
“Fuck, New York.” He groaned, leaning his head back squeezing his eyes tight.
“Well, I’m hopeful that is going to happen.”
It was over now, seriously any filter had been obliterated, and it was anyone’s guess as to which inappropriate verbal spillage was going to happen next. Acceptance was a wonderful thing.
“My brothers are in the mother fucking kitchen,” he cursed, his chest moving up and down as he breathed deeply. “It’s about the only time I wished I was an only child.”
“See, I don’t want to tell you I told you so, but . . .”
I didn’t need to finish. It was quite obvious that it was the curse at work. Not that it mattered now, if we were still together after false pretenses and false arrests and everything in between, I’d hedge a bet we’d survive a family meeting. Even if it was sooner than advised.
“Fine. You were right and I was wrong,” Eric groaned, his head slowly banging against the back of the couch. “We’ll go into the kitchen.” He sat up trying to convince himself as much as he was me. “Meet them properly and then I will kick them out.”
It was a good strategy, and one I could agree on. Not because I had anything against them per se, other than their obvious involvement in the rouse. But because I was desperate to be alone with Eric.
“Are they going to cuff me again? My wrists are already bruised from the last time.” I lifted my hands, my skin already purpling from the metal.
Oddly enough it wasn’t the strangest thing that had come out of my mouth today. There was a positive.
“If anyone cuffs you, it will be me.” Eric nibbled at my lips. “Actually, I’ll tell Nick to leave the cuffs. Let’s go.”
ERIC’S HOUSE WAS HUGE. WHICH was a good thing considering we’d basically been dry humping on his couch while he had company. Lucky for everyone we’d been in the front living room. Yeah, there was more than one, with the informal and more lived in one being toward the back of the house. Meanwhile, his three younger brothers—the fourth unaccounted for at this stage—were sitting around his kitchen nook with beers in their hands, chatting. Like they hadn’t just convinced me I was destined for jailbird orange less than a few hours ago. Strange was definitely the theme of the day.
“Gentlemen.” Eric stood behind me as we entered the kitchen, three heads snapping in our direction at the sound of his voice. “As you can see we’ve located Tia. Tia, this is Nick, Dave and Roman.” His finger pointed to each of them with a corresponding name. “And you’ve already met Tia, so you can all fuck off now.” He bit back the grin.
He wasn’t even trying to be nice, the suggestion of meeting them all properly tossed aside in favor of a quick goodbye. Not to say I was thrilled with our impromptu reunion, but there was no need to be rude.
“Eric.” I elbowed him before directing my attention to the assembly of Larsson brothers sitting in front of me. “Hi, it’s nice to you.”
“And it begins.” Nick was the first to stand, tipping his chin to his brother and then to me. “He uses us and then tosses us aside as soon as he gets the girl back.” He sighed before flashing a grin. “Hi, Tia, I’m Nick. Sorry about before.”
“Don’t be such an ass kisser, Nick.” Roman stood, joining his brother. “And you.” His brows lifted as he looked at me. “You’re just going to take him back?” Roman hid a smile behind a fake yawn. “I’m disappointed in you, Tia.” He shook his head, striding over toward me slowly. “You could have at least let him sweat it out a little more.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Not to be left out, Dave was also on his feet. “The only thing disappointing was Roman’s performance.” He clocked Roman playfully in the gut. “Now tell the truth, you didn’t buy him as a lawyer, did you?”
“Hey moron, I am a fucking lawyer,” Roman countered with a slap to the back of Dave’s head.
“Blah, blah, I got a law degree, blah,” Nick interjected, clearly siding with Da
ve. “Next time we’ll get Alex to do it.”
“Alex, our nineteen-year-old brother who is still in college? Yeah. That will be convincing.” Roman rolled his eyes. “I’m related to a bunch of imbeciles.”
“Yeah, maybe we should have waited,” Eric whispered in my ear as we watched them argue.
Given that I hadn’t investigated much of his family on Google—an oversight that could have saved me A LOT of trauma—Eric gave me the quick rundown. He was the oldest of five Larsson boys. FIVE.
All of them tall, athletic and strikingly handsome, there was no denying they were all from the same family.
Roman—who was a year younger than Eric—probably looked the most like him. He was also the only Larsson to shun show business and go into law. He used his mother’s maiden name of Pierce for professional reasons, not wanting to attract the level of crazy—uh-hm—that followed his older brother. Next came Dave and then Nick—who were also a year apart and two years younger than Roman—both sporting darker hair and darker eyes. And while they had been acting since leaving college, they hadn’t received the same attention or accolades that their more famous older sibling had. Though Nick had recently landed a role in a new police drama series on Netflix where—you guessed it—he played a cop. He was instrumental in securing the costumes, props, squad car and location for project make-Tia-come-clean-and-lose-about-five-years-off-her-life. Eventually, I would have to seek my revenge. I was a middle child after all.
“And Alex is still in college.” Eric finished the rundown of his family. “Berkley. And assuming you haven’t been completely scared away by these guys, you can meet him some time soon.”
“I don’t scare easily.” I laughed, thankfully not pointing out that if anyone should be afraid it should be him. The whole you were my crush, I masturbated to your image constantly, somehow wrangled a meeting and then fell in love with you—probably a little fresh in his mind.
“Neither do I.” His lips pressed against my neck.
Touché, Eric Larsson. Touché.
“Anyone else feel like we’re no longer welcome?” Roman deadpanned, his head tipping toward Eric’s hand that had made its way to my ass.
