Dream Lover

by Stacey Keith

  Too bad he didn’t listen to his own advice. Because now he gave one hell of a fuck. And he worried constantly about the kind of life he could offer her, especially after the cops had invaded his house.

  “Just so you know, Long Jon’s never had it easy,” Brandon told her. “He had a brother in the Marines who died in Afghanistan and another brother who just kind of fell off the map. Long Jon’s family. I’d do anything for the guy.”

  “And family should be the ones who take you in no matter what you’ve done, right?”

  She kissed him then, a hot, open-mouthed kiss that Brandon knew exactly how to interpret. His worries, his fears, even Long Jon disappeared.

  He filled his hands with her silky hair and rolled on top of her, putting his weight on his elbows. His head spun like it always did when he was pressed up against her. He couldn’t get enough of her taste, her scent, this surging heat.

  He felt her hand on his cock, stroking it through his jeans, and thought these jeans are coming off right fucking now. With his feet hanging over the edge of the bed, he toed off his boots and heard them drop to the floor. He continued kissing her mouth, her cheek, along the side of her neck, one hand in her hair, the other shoving his pants down.

  When she undid her blouse and skirt, his balls actually ached with anticipation—and he’d had sex three times last night.

  Brandon went to the drawer in his nightstand, grabbed a condom and then ripped it open. He rolled it on quickly, wishing he didn’t have to use protection, but getting April pregnant wasn’t something he wanted to do. Someday, sure. Just not right now. His imagination whirled at the hotness of making love to her, the sounds she made, the way she looked up at him, so trusting and innocent.

  He was a goner.

  Brandon McBride, the kid with the chip on his shoulder. The troubled teen and ruthless heartbreaker. The outlaw Harley rider who let no woman close unless she knew how to go out the back door.

  That Brandon was history.

  He could tell April was still thinking, still worrying, all those wheels turning in her head. Suddenly, he knew exactly what he needed to do to shut those wheels down. And he would, too. Every aggressive male instinct he had told him to do it.

  The thought of having April completely at his mercy felt like fire rippling under his skin. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head, hard enough to elicit a startled gasp. She blinked and then a kind of dawning awareness came into her eyes. It wasn’t fear he saw there, but a willing submission.

  He would get her so fucking high, she wouldn’t know who she was anymore.

  He squeezed harder and she made a soft whimpering noise that went straight to his cock.

  “I’m not always nice,” he said against her neck. “Last night, you were still a virgin. But now we get to play by my rules. And my rules aren’t always gentle.”

  “What if I don’t know how to follow your rules?” she said.

  “Oh, you will,” he told her. “You’ll like them. We may be equals out in the real world, sweetheart, but in here, I’m the boss. And you will submit to my authority.”

  A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks.

  Last night, he’d taken pains not to hurt her, but now that self-control was gone. The urge to seize by force gave him a darkly satisfying thrill. Her scent was all over him, driving him wild, and as he fused his mouth to hers, everything inside him drew up in a tight, hard ball of savagery.

  Christ, he didn’t expect to feel this dizzying rush of pure lust. Her helplessness torched his insides with a fiery pleasure he’d never known before. She was just so delicious. Hot and quivering and delicious. For a second he feasted his eyes on her, the sheer eroticism of seeing her pinned to the bed making his heavy cock twitch.

  April moaned, visibly swollen and wet. A feeling of fierce possessiveness welled up inside him. He couldn’t stop staring at her, loving that she was his. All his.

  She moved her head restlessly from side to side. “Please,” she said thickly. “Please.”

  But he wanted to prolong the agony of anticipation for as long as he could. He watched her squirming on the sheets, mesmerized, aching inside with his passion for her.

  Even if he wanted to wait, he couldn’t. Desire rolled off her skin in thick musky waves. It drew him irresistibly, and all he could think about was burying himself in her tight, slick heat.

  Holding her with one hand, he used the other to position himself at her entrance. Brandon found her and plunged.

  When he pushed into her, her face contorted and she gave a soft cry. The white-hot edge of taking her roughly instead of gently, of having her submit to him, set every inch of his body on fire. And she was so wet.

  Brandon started with long slow thrusts, riding high, sliding against her clit. But the breath tore around in his chest from the effort it took to control himself. He was never letting her off this bed or out of this room. They could die in here for all he cared.

  “So hot,” he told her. “Baby, so hot.”

  He found his rhythm, easing in and out while she lifted her head to watch. Her cheeks were pink and she was panting, but when their eyes met, it wasn’t just lust he saw there, but the pure innocence of love. And something about it lodged itself next to his heart and he knew it would never leave.

  Brandon went deep and stayed there, rotating his hips to keep the friction where it was needed. A barrage of sparks went off in front of his eyes. He knew he’d found the right spot because April brought her knees up, moaning deliriously under the assault. She was so soft and tight beneath him. With her wrists above her head, she twisted under the restraint.

  Suddenly, her breathing stopped and her body went rigid. She let out a high keening wail and tightened around him like a fist, gripping and squeezing.

  It was too much. His control was gone. Brandon thrust wildly between her thighs. When his climax hit, he emptied himself, shuddering, and still kept thrusting, not wanting it to be over.

  His last thought before collapsing was more.

  Chapter 20

  April understood everything now. Everything.

  Love made you drunk.

  And when you were in love, you wanted to do things for the man you were so drunk about, such as preparing home-cooked meals.

  Maybe on a subconscious level, a woman cooked to keep a man’s strength up so he could give her delicious orgasms later on. April was willing to consider that possibility. But mostly she wanted to cook because Brandon and Matthew were so adorably incapable of doing it for themselves. It was a testament to good genes that they were as healthy as they were, given the stuff she saw in their refrigerator.

  But as Brandon watched her opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, nosing around in the pantry, compiling lists, he looked puzzled.

  “Baby, what are you doing?”

  “I’m going to the store,” she told him, adding sliced ham to the list. “I’m buying food for the house but I also want you and Matthew to come to my place for dinner tonight. I have all the things I need over there. So will you?”

  He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her shoulder. “Will it be anything like that other dinner you made? Because that was sexy.”

  “Even better,” she promised. “I’m unemployed now. I’m a dangerous woman.”

  Brandon followed her out to the car and then opened it so she could get inside. The look he gave her as he rested his elbows inside the door was the same lazy sensuous one she was used to seeing. But this time he also seemed a little worried.

  “What happened this morning,” he said. “You know, with the cops showing up. You’re not still freaked out about it, are you?”

  “Well, sure,” she admitted. “A little. But no need to worry.”

  “I live a different life than you do,” he said. “Bad shit follows me around no matter where I go. I
just don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire.”

  He looked so serious, it worried her. April didn’t know a lot about men, but enough to know they weren’t sharey-feely the way women were.

  “It’s not your fault that Long Jon’s in trouble,” she said. “What happened this morning wasn’t…” She searched for a word that wouldn’t make him think she scared off that easily. “Well, let’s just say I never should have gone out with Ryan in the first place.”

  Brandon frowned. “I gotta feeling. Can’t explain it really. But something bad is about to happen. And I don’t want you anywhere near me when it does.”

  A fluttery kind of nervousness opened up in her chest. “What do you mean something bad?”

  “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe this whole Long Jon thing’s just got me spooked. But I want you to keep your eyes open, okay?”

  She nodded, but now she was more worried than ever. “Sure.”

  He looked around and then tapped her car. “See you tonight. We’ll be there around seven-thirty.”

  It felt as though the sun had gone away, leaving her cold and shivering. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

  Brandon gave her one of his rare, tender smiles before leaning down to kiss her. His lips were warm, surrounded by soft stubble, but even as she sank into them, she felt a shiver of fear.

  It wasn’t like him to talk this way. What if he was right?

  “Please keep Matthew’s phone with you,” she said, gazing up at him anxiously. “I’ll feel better if you have a way to call.”

  He nodded. “And you stay within the speed limit. It would make the Sheriff’s day to write you a bunch of tickets.”

  April backed down the driveway and then drove off. As she went along the road, birds peeled off the telephone wire in a cloud of wings that shivered and changed direction in midair, the sun turning their feathers from black to silver. The field beyond the birds that just a few days ago rippled with wheat lay fallow, all the dirt turned up, which reminded her that things could change in a heartbeat.

  Something that felt like full-blown panic almost made her turn the car around and go back, but she knew that Brandon would think she was being silly and hysterical. Besides, what could she do?

  After what had happened this week, anything was possible. Life was changing so fast, it made her head spin. She used to have a job, for starters.

  Now there was no job. April didn’t have any illusions about the review board. They’d boot her out the same way they did Cleo—and April couldn’t help but feel there might have been a double standard there. Ten years ago when Harv Gunderson, a supervisor, married Rosa DiSantos, a caseworker, everyone looked the other way. “Oh, those were different times back then,” Joanna once told her. “The rules are a lot stricter now.”

  Yeah, for women maybe.

  And then April had fallen in love with a man who not only had a record, he received early morning visits from the police. She’d lost her virginity to him. But when she was with Brandon, she knew it was right. He gave her things no other man could give her. He didn’t love her because she was pure—or had been. He loved her because of who she really was.

  She spotted the Strom Mart and decided not to obsess over her worries. If something actually did happen, she’d have plenty of time to think about them later.

  As she pulled into the grocery store parking lot, her neighbor, Mrs. Costello, was at the entrance waiting to leave. April waved to her. She could have sworn Mrs. Costello saw her, but she didn’t get a wave back.

  Strange, April thought. She’s usually so friendly.

  Finding a parking spot was a breeze when April didn’t have to do battle with the after-work traffic. She gathered her purse, her keys, her glasses and went inside.

  Strom Mart was overly air-conditioned, but to April it was her reception here that seemed to be on the chilly side. Instead of the usual “Why, hi there, April,” Mrs. Woburn, the cashier, gave her a cold-eyed stare. In the frozen foods section, April ran into Sara’s husband, Sam Merriweather, who seemed nice enough at first, but by the time April met him again on Aisle Two, his smile began to look a little threadbare.

  Of course, as weirded out as she was right now, she was probably imagining things.

  April pushed her cart through the produce aisle, wondering if she needed more potatoes or should just go with the frozen, when her phone chimed. She looked down and saw a text from Jacey.

  Where are you? Jacey texted.

  April typed back: Grocery shopping. Why?

  I need to know where you are so I can kill you. Meet me at your house in fifteen minutes.

  April dropped the phone back in her purse. That was silly. Why on earth would Jacey want to—

  She grabbed the shopping cart to keep from staggering. In an instant of horrible clarity, she knew what was going on.

  Oh, no. It can’t be.

  Jacey had just found out about Brandon. Worse, it was Ryan who’d told her—Ryan who had nothing good to say. Jacey was probably furious. April felt like the worst kind of friend.

  But that wasn’t all. While Ryan went around telling everyone what a big slut she was, other rumors had sprung up, too, about why she’d been suspended from her job.

  April Roby sleeps with clients, you know. That’s why they had to let her go.

  Despite the blast of the air-conditioning, sweat sheeted the back of April’s neck. Her heart hammered. She knew exactly how these things played out in Cuervo. She’d been on the front line when Cassidy was shunned as a teen mother.

  April tucked her hair behind her ears, kept her head down and tried to make it to the checkout line without bursting into tears. It felt as though everyone was staring at her, staring and judging, and she hated people’s disapproval. It was why she’d tried so hard to be perfect all her life. If you were perfect, people didn’t disapprove of you.

  Mrs. Woburn, who had the face of an angry Pekinese, right down to the under bite, regarded her sourly.

  “Day off from work?” Mrs. Woburn asked nastily, dragging April’s items over the scanner.

  There was a sudden ringing in April’s ears. The store seemed unnaturally bright and the colors on the candy wrappers in front of her blurred together. April forced herself to breathe, but her throat had closed up. As she pressed one hand to her chest, she remembered that Mrs. Woburn and Mrs. Costello were both members of the Ladies Auxillary. The auxillary met under the pretense of beautifying Cuervo, but it was mostly to gossip. At this point, everyone in town knew April’s business.

  Mrs. Woburn dragged a can of cling peaches over the scanner and said coldly, “Manny’s on break, so you might want to start bagging.”

  If there had ever been a sign that Mrs. Woburn disapproved of the choices April made, it was this one. She’d never asked a customer to bag her own groceries, not once in her life. Not even Matthew Willis, who’d been a church pastor before his affair with the wife of a church deacon was discovered. Mrs. Woburn not only double-bagged his groceries, she made sure one of the stockers helped him out to the car.

  If Maggie had been here, April thought, she would have told Mrs. Woburn to go to hell. That idea sustained her as she shook out a paper bag and loaded her purchases. But neither she nor Cassidy were capable of saying those things.

  April paid and left, the shopping cart rattling over the parking lot. She felt numb. The afternoon sun blazed down on the cars, blinding her, but not enough to avoid seeing Miriam Fletcher and her sister Helen. They put their heads together when they saw her but at least they didn’t look entirely unsympathetic.

  Jacey was waiting on the front porch when April got home, arms crossed, pink pom-pom keychain dangling from her hand. April parked in back, dropped her bags in the kitchen, and then hurried to let her in. Deep breath, she told herself, knowing that Jacey was really going to let her have it.

  �
�What the fuck?” Jacey said when April opened the door. “Ryan has to tell me that you’re shagging a biker?”

  April stepped back to let her in. “I can explain,” she said. “I didn’t tell you because Raymond County—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Those assholes more-or-less fired you.”

  April stared at her in surprise. Okay, so everyone knew. At least Jacey didn’t seem that angry at her.

  Leaving a cloud of perfume in her wake, Jacey went to the kitchen. April found her rummaging around in the grocery sacks.

  “The whole town’s talking about it,” Jacey said. She pounced on a canister of potato chips April had bought for Matthew’s lunch and peeled off the clear plastic lid. “You know, for a girl who wasn’t even on the map yesterday, you’re front page news now. I’m kind of jealous.”

  “My life? Not something to be jealous about.”

  “You have the nerve to say that? You?” Jacey took the chips with her to the table and sat down, munching. “I’ve seen that biker guy, April, and believe me when I tell you that any woman in this town would donate a kidney to science just to see him naked.”

  April sat at the table and stared blankly at her friend. “Okay, so does this mean you’re not mad at me for not telling you?”

  “Of course I’m mad! I plan on killing you later, just not until I hear what it’s like being with a guy who looks like that.” She made a d handshape and tapped her nose with it. “Roxanne told me he has a super big one.”

  “Really?” With a sigh of relief, April grabbed the canister and pried out a few chips for herself. “I should’ve known all you’d want were the gory details.”

  “Roxanne said you caught her coming out of Brandon’s house one time. That’s his name, right? Brandon? So I guess you already know she was having a thing with him before you were. It didn’t end well, though. She seems really bitter.”

  “She knows I’m seeing Brandon?” Great. Another reason for Roxanne to hate her.

  “Knows?” Jacey gave a hoot of sheer triumph, like that was a good thing. “Honey, she’s eating her heart out. She ran into him the other night at the Double Aces and he totally blew her off.”