“Brenda told me so. The woman is a good, honest person. Very devout. She’d never lie.”
Tyler’s head reeled at this revelation about a man who he’d once held in high esteem, the man who’d been there for Tyler when his father died but hadn’t been there for his own children.
“Uncle Brian deserted his kids. My mom and dad don’t speak to him. No one in the family does, not after what he did to Aunt Brenda and the kids.”
“What about the brother? Andy?”
“After he graduated from high school, he went to WSU, walked on the team, and made it. He hasn’t spoken to Aunt Brenda since. It breaks her heart.”
“That’s harsh.” He was developing a new level of respect for Brenda.
“She sacrificed everything for her kids. She was always there for them. Always. The first chance Andy got, he betrayed her.”
He was struggling with Coach as the man he knew and the man who abandoned his wife and family. Something seemed a little off, but what the hell did Tyler know? His family came straight out of a 1950s sitcom, except his mother actually worked. He’d lived a perfect life growing up, yet he was majorly fucked up. Big time. He had no right to judge anyone else’s family dynamics.
“I’m sorry to hear all this.” Tyler shut his mouth and dropped the subject. This situation was none of his damn business. His relationship with Lavender amounted to sex and nothing else.
Assholes didn’t have relationships with meaning. Nor did they get involved in each other’s family affairs.
* * * * *
Lavender glanced up from the bar and recognized a man on a mission. By the set of Tyler’s jaw, she suspected she wouldn’t appreciate this particular mission. She gave him the silent treatment and ignored him as much as possible.
Tyler stayed close all evening, though he made no attempt to carry on a conversation beyond grunting for another beer. Ever since he discovered her father’s identity, coupled with the debacle with her mother, he eyed her with wariness in his blue eyes. Meanwhile, Lavender brimmed with nervous energy during the day and tossed and turned in her bed at night. Ten days of celibacy combined with a hot man next door was a lousy cure for insomnia. Beyond the dark circles under her eyes lurked the fear she just might be missing more than the man’s body despite how furious he made her.
Tyler didn’t goad her into an argument or make lurid remarks. Nor did he swear up a storm and fill the cuss-jar coffers. Instead, he stayed silent and brooding, not one sign of the asshole persona she’d come to expect and, in a dysfunctional way, appreciate.
Tyler emptied his beer and signaled for another. She poured it and slid it across the counter. His blue eyes drilled into hers, physically stripping away each protective layer. She’d rather he stripped off her clothes than study her as if he knew all her secrets.
This crap needed to stop.
Putting her hands on the counter, Lavender went on offense before his odd behavior put her on defense. “Quit staring at me like that.”
“Like what? How am I staring at you?”
“You know.”
Tyler rubbed the back of his neck and stretched, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. He picked up his beer and took a sip, regarding her over the rim of his glass. “Can’t you at least get back to hating me? This silent treatment is making me crazy.”
“What makes you think I stopped hating you?”
“You didn’t?” He almost smiled for the first time since his faux pas with her family. He sat back and rested his large hands on his belt buckle, drawing Lavender’s gaze downward. She licked her lips as she noticed a telltale bulge.
“What do you think?”
“But you miss the sex.” He tugged on a lock of her hair.
“Now there’s the asshole I’ve grown to know and despise.” She ran a finger across his stubbled chin and resisted the strong urge to follow the caress with her tongue.
He worked his jaw, as if considering his next words carefully. “I’m sorry. I was a real ass, even for me. The second I mentioned him, I knew I’d been an idiot.”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s about the sex with us. Just stay out of my family’s business from now on.”
He looked down, then up again. “I am sorry.”
“Please don’t bring him up again. My stepfather is the only father I have. He’s been there for me, while my real father hasn’t.”
“Is that why you changed your last name?”
“Mom changed it. It was my idea, but she took care of it for me. She offered to change my brother’s, too, but he refused.”
Tyler frowned at her. Lavender twisted the ring on her finger. Hard. Any harder and she’d twist her finger off. He watched in fascination as it spun even faster on her hand. He looked up, and she realized she’d been caught. She slipped her hands behind her back and out of his line of sight. A knowing smile crooked the corner of his mouth.
“You do that when you’re upset. Really upset. At the risk of getting my head ripped off, tell me why you never call your stepfather ‘Dad’ if he’s the only father you have.” He raised one eyebrow in a silent challenge, looking more like his asshole self.
“I—I— Just because.” Anger rumbled through her like a thunderstorm through a wheat field. “Don’t go psychoanalyzing me, Harris.”
He snorted and pointed at his chest. “Me? I’m too shallow for something requiring insight into other people’s feelings.”
Lavender backed away, needing a moment to regroup. Tyler’s words hit home. Hard. Too hard. She skirted around the opposite side of the bar. She didn’t like talking about her parents, either one of them. Unfortunately, she couldn’t steer clear of the quarterback when she went to pour a beer, since he was sitting right in front of the taps.
Nobody understood. She loved her mother, and her mother loved her. Brenda Mead had always been there for her. She couldn’t say the same for her father. Even when he’d still been with her mother, football consumed his every waking hour.
She hated all this talk about her father. It put her on the defensive, made her feel guilty for God knew what. She’d done nothing wrong. Brian Gerloch deserted them, left them almost destitute. If Larry hadn’t rescued them, who knew where they’d have ended up. Larry might not be the most exciting or attractive man, but Lavender would be blessed to find a man as good and honest as him.
Tyler Harris did not fit that mold. Now he was asking too many questions, as if her family mattered to him. They didn’t. They couldn’t. She knew just the thing to stop this invasion of her personal affairs—another kind of affair. He’d forget his own name when presented with a warm, willing woman ready to engage in a little hard riding.
Casting a sultry look his way, Lavender sashayed closer. Tyler met her halfway, stepping into her space.
“This isn’t supposed to get personal.” She lowered her voice a sexy octave and watched his eyes go from sky blue to midnight blue. Tyler leaned into her and licked his lips. He didn’t touch her, allowing her to take the lead.
“Hey, get a room, you two,” Homer yelled from across the room.
Lavender jumped back. Her pale skin burned as red as a fire engine. Tyler took longer to recover. Finally, he shook his dark head and tipped back on the heels of his well-worn cowboy boots. “Tonight, after everyone’s gone, you’re at my mercy.”
“No, you’re at my mercy,” she countered, salivating at the thought of being in control of this powerful, muscular hunk of testosterone.
“Is that a promise?” Tyler didn’t even blink; instead he looked intrigued.
“For once, I’m going to run the show.”
“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.” He ran a finger over her lips, and she shuddered. With a wink, he sauntered off to join the brotherhood at a table across the room.
* * * * *
Despite it being past their bedtime, the old codgers stuck around long enough to beat Tyler at three hands of pinochle before they finally tottered out the door. Once the door clicked sh
ut behind the final geriatric, Tyler tipped his chair back on two legs, crossed his arms over his chest, and enjoyed the view. Lavender sped around the room, vacuuming, wiping tables, cleaning the counter, putting everything in order for the night. Her ponytail swung as she walked, keeping rhythm with the swaying of her fine ass. Pretty soon Tyler would be grasping two handfuls of that ass as he buried himself deep inside El’s soft heaven. His cock hardened in response. He leaned forward and the chair legs clunked as they hit the floor. He tapped his foot impatiently on the worn hardwood floor.
Lavender finished the last of her closing chores and headed for the door with Tyler on her heels. He held the door open for her but blocked the doorway. She pushed on his chest. He didn’t budge.
“It’s been too long, purple lady.” Tyler leaned in, caught a whiff of lavender, and leaned closer. He slid his hands down her sides and rested them on her hips. Damn, but she felt fu—flipping good. Everything he’d ever dreamed of wrapped up in one fiery little package. He pulled her against his body, cupping her ass in the palms of his hands. He picked her up, sliding her along his length until her face came level with his. Her red lips parted, revealing a glimpse of white teeth. Her pink tongue flicked out and moistened her lips.
Tyler groaned and bent his head to sample those lips and tongue for himself. He’d always loved kissing as foreplay, but kissing Lavender took the act to an entirely different level. He gave her more than he ever gave with other women, even Cass. At first it might have been the challenge, the mutual dislike, the great chemistry. Maybe it still was all that and more. She drove him wild with an irrational need he couldn’t explain, nor did he want to. She made him feel. And for a man who’d been buried in smothering apathy this past year, he embraced feelings of any kind, especially those that awakened his passion for life.
Slave to a different type of passion, Tyler backed Lavender against the doorframe. Her mouth opened for his tongue as she sucked on it. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the feelings rampaging through his body, his head, hell, even his big toenail. His brain shut down for the night since he wouldn’t be needing it. He had all he needed right here wrapped up in this little redheaded dynamo.
Fingers digging into his scalp, she pulled him closer, held his mouth to hers. Their bruising kisses only sent the flames higher. Tyler resuscitated a miniscule portion of his common sense and dragged his hungry mouth away from his purple lady’s equally hungry mouth. Panting and turned on beyond sanity, he slid her body back down his until her feet touched the ground. His cock demanded immediate satisfaction, nothing new there. His boy was legendary for its impatience, but it’d have to hold out a little longer. Wrapping an arm around Lavender’s shoulders, Tyler waited while she shakily locked the door. She fumbled with the keys twice. He swallowed a smirk, smugly satisfied with his power to rattle her.
Heady stuff.
“Your place or mine?” He dangled his keys from his index finger.
“Yours. You have a four-poster bed.” Her eyes sparkled with little flecks of gold, which he’d only seen when she was aroused.
“Hmmm. Tell me why you need a four-poster bed.” The mental images were killing him.
Lavender regarded him for a moment. He stood on the sidewalk, one hand on the side of the brick building as he leaned against it. His casual pose didn’t disguise the barely reined-in sexual energy radiating from his every pore.
“You’re being punished. I’m in charge, jock boy. Just go with the flow.”
“Oh, yeah, I will. I definitely will.” He pushed off the wall, grabbed her hand, and headed for the truck. His long strides ate up the ground. She ran to keep up. In a few minutes, she’d be calling the shots, and they wouldn’t be hurrying anywhere, which was just fine with him.
Chapter 15—Stripped of the Ball
Standing in the doorway to Tyler’s bedroom, Lavender scrutinized the gorgeous man with a practiced eye; at least she hoped it looked that way. Either he forgot who was in charge or he didn’t give a shit. He stepped toward her with indecent intentions—the best kind—except tonight was her night. She’d be the one with the indecent intentions.
Lavender held up a hand to back him off. “Not so fast, buster. I make the moves, you comply. Got it?”
She held her breath, waiting to see if he’d submit. His blue eyes burned into her, sizzling every nerve ending and rendering her momentarily speechless, which didn’t happen often, if at all. His proud stance spoke volumes. The man craved rebellion, walked the unbeaten path, and lived to be his own man and no one else’s.
She waited him out, hoping he’d play along.
With a slight nod, Tyler held his hands out, palms up, in a surprising gesture of submission. The corners of his mouth slowly turned up until they formed a full-blown grin. Surrendering control to her didn’t seem to set him back in the least or compromise his manhood. She smiled back. Something to be said for a sexually adventurous man. In fact, a lot to be said.
“Strip and get on the bed.” She faked her best dominatrix voice, not that she knew what a dominatrix sounded like, but Tyler stayed on task and didn’t challenge her authenticity.
“Yes, ma’am.” His clothes went flying until he bared his body in all its hard-muscled nakedness. He might be playing along, but she got the distinct feeling that ultimately she wasn’t the one in control.
Her gaze dropped to his body. Long, lean muscles bulged in his calves and thighs. Slender hips, a tight butt, and a flat stomach came next. Not to mention that cock. She hesitated and licked her lips then forced her gaze higher, following the trail of chest hair past his six-pack abs to his sculpted chest and widening to broad shoulders. A strong neck led to a hell of a chiseled face framed with thick, unruly dark hair. Nature didn’t make men better than this. Not a pretty boy but a man’s man, ruggedly handsome and sexually charged. And all hers, at least for the night.
Lavender cleared her throat and rubbed her sweaty hands on her jeans. Her labored breathing stuck in her throat.
“You’re supposed to be a little nervous. A little afraid. Get it?” Her voice cracked and betrayed who was actually nervous. She slapped her hand against her thigh for effect. His mouth quivered, as if he was suppressing a grin.
“Yes, Mistress. Your wish is my wet dream.” Those rebellious blue eyes followed her every movement and contradicted his compliant stance.
Lavender sighed. The man was not playing his part. “Puh-lease. A little uncertainty, insecurity.” She snapped her fingers. His eyes sparkled with devilment.
“I don’t do insecurity or uncertainty.” He blew her a kiss.
“You must place your body in my hands.”
His grin grew wider. “Absolutely, Mistress L.” He hopped on the bed and lay on his back, spread-eagle. His cock stood up ramrod straight and hard, ready to be called into action. “Take me. I’m ready to be abused.”
Lavender rolled her eyes, but her heart rate broke the sound barrier. “Do you have any equipment here?”
He pointed at his cock. “Honey, I have all the equipment you’ll ever need right here.”
She heaved an exaggerated sigh and shook a finger at him. “You know what I mean. You’re being insolent.”
“Bottom drawer on the bureau.” He didn’t bother to ask what type of equipment.
Why was she not surprised? Lavender pulled open the drawer and stared. “You have to be kidding? You brought all this stuff from the mainland?”
“It’s my seduction kit. Never leave home without it.” He shifted his hips on the bed and put his hands behind his head.
“Seduction kit? Seriously? Where did this come from?”
“I ordered it a day after I met you.”
“Presumptuous of you.” This man needed to be taught a lesson, and she was just the woman to do it, assuming he let her.
“I prefer to call it industrious and efficient. Oh, and also confident.”
“I’d call you obsessed, opportunistic, and cocky.”
He shrugged. “The
re’s an outfit in there for you, assuming you want to immerse yourself in your role.”
“Immerse, huh?” Most likely she’d be the one drowning, not him.
“Yeah, I’ve been reading the dictionary in my spare time.”
“Impressive.”
A gray cloud dimmed Tyler’s sparkling eyes, but it passed as quickly as it came.
She held up a small leather outfit, complete with boots. “You are prepared. I’m impressed.”
“Not as impressed as you’ll be by the time the night ends.”
A rogue wave of excitement rippled through her body. After exiting to the bathroom, Lavender pulled off her clothes and stepped into the little number. Leave it to Tyler. The thing was barely there—emphasis on barely. A pair of thin leather suspenders covered her hardened nipples and not much else. The suspenders wrapped around her neck then came together below her belly button. A small strip passed between her legs and between both ass cheeks. A band around her waist held up the back. Oh, yeah, it was sexy and a size too small, an oversight she’d bet her booty was intentional.
The feel of the leather rubbing against her crotch caused her pussy to weep with anticipation. She pulled on the high-heeled leather boots, examined herself in the mirror, then sashayed into the bedroom.
“Holy crap!” Tyler shot up in bed, forgetting his subservient status.
“Don’t move.” She pointed at him. “Or you’ll be punished.”
“What if I want to be punished?” His pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared. His cock waved in the breeze, not that there was a breeze.
“Just play along.” He was not getting this.
“Okay, fine. Please, please, don’t punish me.” He spoke with absolute insincerity and laughed out loud.
“Don’t give up your football career to be an actor.”
He said nothing, just perused her body like the connoisseur he was.
Lavender returned to the bureau and pulled out a flogger. “You use this?”
Snap Decision: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Series Book 2) Page 13
