Willows, Jennifer - Lust for Life [The Moreland Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Jennifer Willows

  “Ooh, Deven!”

  She cried out, hoping he would deliver her from this, more cock than she could take. Charli found out she was wrong, and he gave her more, plowing her. His thrusts were so strong and utterly intense, each punt from his hips drove her up the wall. Each motion she made was to run from him any way she could. He watched her run, and the wickedly sensual smirk he made told her he loved it. She couldn’t believe she was taking him fully, and still begging for more. Charli wanted Deven to fuck her dumb, deaf, and blind. And he was, until ringing kept interrupting his stride. After the tenth ring she asked, “Is that your phone?”

  “No, it’s yours.” His response was quick. Too quick.

  “Huh,” Charli muttered, confused. She didn’t have her phone. It was—

  The ringing phone intruded, the alarm blaring, as it had been for fifteen minutes. Charlene Anderson was exhausted. She rubbed her eyes, crusty from the two-hour nap she got this afternoon, and sat up in the too-soft bed. She felt definitely angry and in need of coffee, as she had been cheated out of her wet, nocturnal fantasies. When she looked in the hotel mirror, her eyes were wan and her bags had bags. To reduce the swollen skin she rubbed a thin layer of Preparation H under her eyes. Next, she perked a small pot of coffee. She was in a rush, having slept at least fifteen minutes too late. Since she was late there was only time for a duck bath.

  Now she had to scurry about, opting to drink the strong coffee black, the time not allowing her to make it palatable. Charlene had been up working on her best friend’s wedding all night. For the last weeks until the wedding, the groom, Charyn, had asked her to help with the usual bridesmaid support and for her best friend’s sake, she couldn’t say no. She helped him put together favor boxes at his office along with Sharon, Makenzie’s mom. She picked up the stragglers from ILM airport, attending family from out of town, as they arrived. She had to have filled her tank a dozen times in one week. At this rate she may as well buy stock in Shell gas. Her feet were aching. And she was depressed. The saddest part was that after the wedding she would be alone. As always.

  But she didn’t have time to worry about the small stuff. She had a bride to attend to and a smile to hoist onto her face. When Charli looked in the mirror, her eyes were bright, too bright. She barely saw herself, the chocolate skin, doe eyes, pert nose, or even the full bow of her lips. She made her face up quickly, slipping on the gold-goddess, one-shoulder gown and her heels. She dusted her face with mineral powder one last time before walking across the hall to the bride’s penthouse suite hotel room. She got it for the bachelorette party the night prior and the wedding day to get ready. Before she knocked, she composed herself, not wanting to detract from Makenzie’s special day with her morose thoughts. Sliding on her mock Audrey Hepburn frames, she knocked at the adjoining door.

  When her best friend, Makenzie, opened it, she was beautiful in bridal finery. Poor Mak, she had been painting day and night for months and didn’t have the time to look for a gown. Her doting fiancé made several choices and had them delivered to try on at home. The final choice was Mak’s of the three sample gowns he sent her. Charyn had outdone himself with the wedding, and the dresses he chose for her were no exception. The gown she wore wasn’t a true white. The undertones of the color appeared more golden than anything. The dress seemed plain on the rack, but was resplendent on the bride. It had a simple sweetheart neckline, covered in netting, from the empire waist to the foot-long train. There were some wispy butterflies that scattered across the fabric in random places, clustered at the base of the short train. He commissioned her jewelry, golden ropes at her neck and wrists both dripping with jewels.

  The jewelry in itself was a nightmare. Charyn spent many nights fretting about when it would arrive. But the package made it in the nick of time, arriving just two days before the event. Even Charli was sweating bullets by the time they were three days out. Mak’s fiancé begged her to leave her hair natural, loving the curls and kinky feel of it. The bride agreed and wore it pulled back in a large tuft of curls at her nape, three flowers clustered at one side. The blooms were the same ones as in the bouquet, jasmine and garden roses. All the scented blossoms were provided from the hothouse of the groom’s mother, Charlotte. Jamie, the only other bridesmaid, stood slightly behind the bride, quiet as always. Jamie was beautiful, golden skin, bright eyes. But she didn’t really see herself that way, due to the fact she spoke with a strong stammer at inopportune moments and the low esteem showed in her demeanor. Jamie still worked at Charli’s old job, Southern Wireless, but she was a highly successful indie film blogger as well. Most of her vacation time was spent each year on some movie set or at a film festival. Charli wondered vaguely why Jamie hadn’t quit work yet. Most people would have long ago.

  Shaking her musings about her too-shy friend away, Charli shed a few tears looking at the bride-to-be, who also teared up.

  “You ready to jump the broom with your stud, girl?” The words were spoken as a joke to make everyone laugh, and it worked.

  “Hell yeah, he even made us hold off on lovemaking for this whole week. I’sa ready to get married now.”

  Mak’s dry humor made everyone chuckle once more. They walked out of the suite, taking the elevator to the entry twenty floors below. Charli saw the reactions of guests and hotel staff alike. Everyone who saw her just stopped and stared at how wonderful the blushing bride looked. She even heard a small child ask her mom if Makenzie was a princess. Walking past, the radiant bride stopped and laughed, smiling at the youth. She told the toddler girl, “No, I’m not a princess, but I feel like one today.” She leaned low, handing the towheaded girl a flower from the gold ribbon-wrapped bouquet. They climbed in the stretch Hummer limo reserved for the bridal party, and left for the beach.

  When they arrived, the guests were waiting at the surf, each holding one hurricane filled with sand and a candle. Charli exited first, then Jamie, then the bride. Charyn waited at the end of the double file line and escorted his intended to the gazebo. They exchanged vows so beautiful that Charli spent half the wedding blotting her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief bundled in her hand. She didn’t hear two-thirds of what was said, but one thing stuck with her. It was the way Charyn announced to the world that he would be with Makenzie no matter what, that he was happy to make children with her, hold them and raise them as long as she would love him. The way he looked at his bride made it evident that he meant every word he spoke.

  Then he asked her once again to be his wife and slid home a gold band his brother, Deven, held out to him. Taking a good peek, she saw the band matched everything else. The necklace, bracelet, even the engagement ring she wore. A golden rope. The groom only saw his bride, and when given permission by the officiator kissed her until all the watching women were breathless. The newly wedded couple ran up the surf, laughing as they clung to each other. They looked... content with the world and their love. She was a touch jealous, but a discreet peek beneath her lowered lids revealed a blue-eyed monster watched her, silently.

  Once inside the flagged tent, Charli saw everything was perfect just as planned, the reception was set up as harem, swags of sheer fabric strung from the roof. Cushions and tables of different sizes and shapes were arranged as well. For some of the elder guests, there were groupings of higher couches as well. Each table bore hanging lanterns and carved cigar boxes filled with favors.

  She looked at the cake, a towering sculpture of a sandcastle confection, scanned her eyes over the face of every guest, anything but the male next to her. Deven was devastating with his blue, almond-shaped eyes, that strong jaw, just a hint of stubble no matter how often he shaved. Amazingly enough he had gotten a haircut. The few times she’d seen him in passing, he appeared to disdain barbers. The golden hair was always shaggy and very blond from the sun. Even his skin was dark bronze from his love of the outdoors. Of course he was tall. All the Moreland men were giants. Everyone was a giant compared to her. She saw him from the corner of her eyes and continued ignori
ng him, scanning the crowd to make sure all were satisfied. She noticed Marques, who was paired with Jamie for the wedding ceremony, walk around his assigned bridesmaid to mingle with yet another gathering of people. The youngest Moreland brother used his quick wit to keep pockets of attendees laughing and highly entertained along the way. The chefs were roasting meat outside in pits, and most of the guests were satisfactorily occupied with appetizers. Served family-style, the guests chatted as they passed dishes around. Seeing most were content with the free food, she walked away looking for the cake artist. The baker was in the corner, setting up the dishes. Everything looked good so far, and she continued on her walk, intending to go outside for a breath of fresh air. As she opened the flap to walk out, the beaming newlyweds came in, trailing joy and happiness with them.

  Charli was grateful to be away from the radiant couple. She toed off the sandals and walked to the frothing water. She tuned out the commotion coming from the tent, wanting just a minute for herself. These were the first moments she’d had to herself in weeks. She really wanted a joint right now, but she was short on that end until she got this dog and pony show cleaned up. But she could have a cigarette. Opening the small, gold, vintage Judith Leiber clutch, she took out the singular smoke she’d put in it for the wedding. She lit the end, her back turned to the spray of the roaring ocean. The first drag was heavenly, and it calmed her almost immediately. She walked and thought about her life. She had called her friend out a year ago and made changes to her life as well. But now she was adrift. She no longer had her grow houses or dealt smoke. Charli hadn’t decided what she wanted to do next but needed to figure it out. She was plagued with ennui, a bit restless, and never before thought those words would apply to her. She had seen the good, bad, and ugly in her lifetime, and the concept that boredom would be the biggest problem she had in life was stupefying somehow. Ennui was a rich man’s poison, for those wealthy enough to have everything presented to them on a platter, not someone like her.

  * * * *

  Deven Moreland knew Charli wanted what her friend had, though she would never admit it aloud. She wanted a man who would be there for her, somewhere deep inside. Too bad he wasn’t it, although he wanted to be. Despite the sadness plaguing her features, she was amazing with her mocha skin and round eyes with the longest eyelashes he’d ever seen. Her lips were a succulent, ripe, bowed fruit and stained a deep red. Charli wore her hair in a new cut that fell to her jaw line. For the wedding, she opted to comb it back in a twenties-inspired wave with a flower over one ear. She was lovely, but her eyes were saying she was lonely instead. Her frame was built small, barely five feet when shoeless. To a man like him, she was a munchkin.

  Today she compensated for her stature with five-inch heels, sexy straps over the toes and around her trim ankles. The dress fit her like a second skin, gold silk, single strap, toga-style at her right shoulder. She was a vision, one he’d love to sate himself with. Fully satisfy himself with her, as long as that would take. The one time he’d had her wasn’t enough. But he knew if he dipped in her well again, he’d never stop coming back for more of her. After that singular time, he almost called her daily, but he always stopped himself in the nick of time. More than once, he caught himself slipping. He had already pulled her number up and was ready to send the call. After that, he deleted her address book listing so the temptation wouldn’t be there. But he still remembered it, the numbers burned in his brain.

  Deven saw Charli leave the tent enclosure and a quick check of the time revealed that soon he would need to bring her for the obligatory toast. He walked outside, humidity blanketing the night. He strolled along the beach toward the pixie-sized beauty clutching her dress hem with delicate fingertips. She always took his breath away, even when he pretended to ignored her. But this time, she made a part of him ache inside.

  As his slow wandering brought him closer to her, he remembered the single time he had her in his grasp. The way she felt around him, sweet and spicy at the same time. There was something about her, and he couldn’t let it go. But as fantastic as the sex was, the fight afterwards left him confused. Even now a year later, he had spent numerous hours pondering and still there was no answer as to why she hated him in the first place. That afternoon she seemed fine, enjoying his company as much as he enjoyed hers. The sparks flew and each time he touched her forced the attraction higher.

  But once they both came, limp and sweaty in a mutual heap against his brother Charyn’s front door, it seemed all bets were off and she was pushing him away. The argument after they finished fucking was stupid and started with a simple statement.

  “I want you again.” He did. At that moment Deven was fully willing to pay any price to have more of her.

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” Her response was brusque and frosty, the tone telling him more than the words spoken did.

  After that moment, she lambasted him. First, she called him several names. Then followed up with a, “What the hell do you think this is, Deven? I may not be your usual type of fling, but no one has had to put a bag over my head yet!”

  Deven didn’t know what he had started in that moment, and took her home when she asked him to. If he knew then what he knew now he wouldn’t have let her sashay away that easily. But after he’d realized his mistake it was too late to change her mind about him. That first night led to many sleepless nights and thousands of minutes curious about her whereabouts.

  She had no idea how bad off he was. He would give much just to possess her, to know for certain she would never share her juicy pussy with another man. He wondered how many men she had slept with in the year since he’d had her. Truthfully, he hadn’t touched but one other woman since their single interlude. No one knew his feelings, but he didn’t want another. Only she would do. The only other woman was anonymous, nameless, he barely remembered her face. All Deven remembered was that she was nice looking and let him take her in back of the club where they met. But the sex was less than stellar, and he went home unsatisfied again.

  “Are you done with your smoke?” Deven asked, not really sure what he wanted to say.

  Actually, he was sure of what he didn’t want to say. That he wanted her, for more than one night. Maybe if he’d gotten more of her, he wouldn’t have to feel this way. The sex couldn’t have been as good as he remembered. There was no way. He must have been under the weather or something. Never mind he hadn’t had so much as a cold in years.

  “Yeah, I am,” Charli responded, a bit late, as she was lost in thought.

  She tried to ignore Dev as he ignored her in the past. But she was still aware of him, in the primal way the hunted could feel a hunter in the wind. Charli felt the danger waft perceptibly from him and she knew she was in trouble. She had wanted him from the moment she saw him, at Makenzie’s old unit. Even after a full year of dodging him, she still wet her panties at the sight of him. It was hard on her to avoid certain events and dinners with her best friend to keep from seeing him again and giving away how he made her feel.

  But his handsome visage was distracting her, even just the peripheral view. He was wearing half a tuxedo. No tie or jacket, just the shirt and pants. The color suited him, snowy-white top paired with black trousers both elegant, simple and tailored to perfection on him. The event was an eclectic mix of class and informality. Most the guests were barefoot, even in their finery. She just wanted to breathe without the scent of him teasing her nostrils. Was that too much to ask? She felt waspish and, especially tonight, brittle as worn out porcelain china. She walked away, knowing she could snap at any moment. He was an easy target, her attraction to him making her disgusted with him and herself. Why on earth did the one man to ever make her see stars have to be a self-serving misogynist?

  Charli entered the tent, followed by Deven, both walking to the low table and taking their filled champagne flutes. She decided to get her obligation over. Maybe then she could be alone. She tapped the flute with her fork, the clinking silencing the pockets of chatter across t
he party.

  “Hey, everybody, I’m Charlene, Makenzie’s best friend. I remember they day this couple met, and lemme tell you how funny life is. One minute you could be having the worst time of your life, and the next... Your soul mate could fall in your lap. Anyone who sees the two of them together knows they are deeply, madly in love. Our handsome groom even planned this event you’re at now. How’s that for love? The real love of your life will do anything for you, and, ladies, he’s out there looking for you. Men, that tells you the right woman will make you a better man to be with her. There’s nothing wrong with fitting the needs of your mate, no shame, no embarrassment. Only if they weren’t so smug and kissy faced all the time, maybe folks would find in their hearts to be happy,” Charli joked, and the group laughed. The entire batch of wedding guests saw the newlywed’s heated embrace earlier on the beach, ankle-deep in the surf.

  Soon it was Deven’s turn, and his voice resonated through the tent, deep and strong.

  “Well, as everyone knows, I’m Deven, Charyn’s oldest brother. The first time I saw them together wasn’t long after they met, but even then I knew they would be here. In as many years as we have been brothers, he never looked at anyone the way he looked at her. Her eyes were only for him, and being in the room with them will get you drunk. The chemistry is just that potent. I wish them many happy years, and all that they could wish for. They are each lucky and blessed to have met their match. We are not always that lucky in life, to meet the one that completes you. They are a bunch of kissy faces, and yeah, they sniff necks a lot, but who am I to judge? Guess that’s what being in love will do to you.” Deven laughed, the crowd laughing with him. The couple had the nerve to kiss again, and the watching crowd laughed more, some awing over the romantic newlyweds.

  The rest of the night flew by. After the wedding reception, she and Jamie were cleaning the beach tent used for the party. The exuberant bride and groom were riding away in the couple’s Hemi Barracuda. Charli tied cans and painted the back window earlier in the day, and they drove the redecorated vehicle to the airport to catch their ride with Deven. He was piloting in his Gulfstream G200 jet, and left an hour early to get the plane ready for takeoff. It was his gift to the newlyweds, whose final destination was Nadi, Fiji, where they would spend the honeymoon.