Down to You

by M. Leighton

  My heart is filled with emotion, my head is spinning with questions and my body is throbbing in the aftermath. There is so much to think about and worry over and contemplate, yet it seems so very…unimportant. Conflict rages inside me. In a thousand years, I would never have thought I could fall asleep like that.

  But I do.

  ********

  Dawn is just breaking when I open my eyes. Hot kisses and great sex are the first things that enter my mind.

  I look around at my empty room. There’s no evidence of any naughty night time visitors. In fact, I might’ve convinced myself I’d dreamed the whole thing if it weren’t for the soreness I feel between my legs when I move.

  I smile. It’s a pleasant soreness, one that reminds me of the massive instrument that inflicted it.

  Good God, did you just call it an instrument?

  I giggle. I can’t seem to help it. I’m happy. Very happy. At least for the moment.

  I should be tired, but I’m not. I feel rejuvenated and ready to face the day.

  “Maybe Ginger’s right. Maybe sex is actually good for me,” I mumble into the quiet. The walls absorb the sound and remind me that I have the place all to myself. Marissa is gone for another couple weeks. That alone is reason to celebrate.

  Thoughts of her bring me to thoughts of Nash. What if it had been him that visited me last night? I hadn’t been able to see clearly enough in the dark to identify whether the delicious chest above me had a tattoo on it or not. How will I know?

  For a moment, I’m lost in memories of the feel of smooth, taut skin beneath my fingertips, of rippling muscles in long arms and broad shoulders, of slim hips clamped between my thighs. Just the thought of that is enough to leave me feeling damp and wanting.

  Throwing off the covers, I head to the shower. As I scrub and buff, I search my mind for clues that might hint at which brother gave me such an incredible night. I think they are both perfectly capable of making me feel that way and nothing that happened seemed like something only one would do or say. Especially say, as not many words were used.

  I smile at the thought.

  Not many words were needed.

  Entry isn’t an issue. Cash has my keys, Nash has Marissa’s. Attraction isn’t an issue. Both brothers have made it very clear we have an intensely physical connection. Willingness might be the only area there’s a discrepancy. Cash has made it very clear he’s interested in a physical relationship with me. Nash, on the other hand, is taken and he’s trying to do the right thing.

  But then I remember it wasn’t Nash who stopped us on the rooftop. If I hadn’t brought us to a halt, would we have had sex up there, on a chaise lounge where Nash has probably sat with Marissa?

  The more I think, the muddier things get and the more questions and concerns I develop. So I put it out of my head. Surely I’ll be able to tell when I see Cash whether or not we had sex.

  Surely.

  After dressing, I make my way into the kitchen to brew some coffee. I’m surprised when I hear my phone ring from my bedroom. I race to get it.

  My stomach flutters when I see Nash’s name on the lighted screen. What does such an early call mean? That he was with me until a little while ago? Or he got a good night’s sleep, which means he wasn’t here?

  I slide my finger across the screen to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  There’s a pause.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No, I’m actually making coffee.”

  “Oh, good. I wouldn’t want to disturb you. I assumed you’d have your alerts off and I’d get your voicemail. I just wanted to make sure you saw the flowers I left.”

  I’m a little deflated. That doesn’t sound like something the guy who just explored my entire naked body with his tongue might say.

  “Yes, I saw them when I came in last night.”

  “Perfect. I just wanted you to feel free to call me if you need anything while Marissa’s away.”

  “Um, I will. Uh, thanks.”

  “I’ll let you get back to your coffee then. I’ve got to get to work. Early meetings.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the flowers, Nash.”

  “It was my pleasure, Olivia.”

  I hear a smile in his voice. Don’t I?

  Chills remain on my arms long after he hangs up. Just hearing him say my name reminds me of the night before, of that voice moaning my name as he was coming.

  Only it obviously didn’t belong to Nash. It belonged to his brother.

  I’m not entirely surprised to find out it was Cash. The whole scenario fits his character more than it does Nash’s. Only a bad boy would come, uninvited, into a girl’s house and wake her up to seduce her in her own bedroom.

  And only a bad boy would think I wouldn’t mind. I have to smile at that.

  He’s got nerve. I’ll give him that.

  But he was right. I didn’t mind. In fact, I didn’t mind twice. And probably wouldn’t have minded a third and fourth time if I hadn’t fallen asleep like a loser. It’s been a while and I forgot how incredibly relaxing great sex is.

  I’m just sitting down at the dining room table to do some reading before class when my phone rings again. This time the screen shows Cash’s name, but my reaction is the same. My stomach flutters with excitement.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, gorgeous. You up?”

  “Yep,” I say, unable to keep the grin from my voice.

  “So, your car is at my buddy’s shop. It’s definitely the alternator.”

  “Shit,” I mumble, my early-morning buzz succumbing to the realities of owning a piece of crap car. “Any idea how much something like that’s gonna cost me?”

  “For you? Nothing. He owes me a favor.”

  “I can’t let you do that, Cash.”

  “I suppose you’re going to stop me?” he says derisively.

  “I’m being serious. That’s too much. I can’t accept a gift like that.”

  “You can and you will. Besides, don’t think of it as a gift. You’ll be paying me back.”

  My smile returns and my nerves sing with exhilaration. I can’t wait to hear what he has in mind.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep. Starting with an extra shift next week if you can swing it.”

  I’m disappointed again. That’s not nearly as sexy as I expected it to be. After last night, surely he knows I’d be more than happy to pay him back in any number of ways and positions. Unless he’s not my late-night visitor after all.

  What kind of a floozy doesn’t know who she slept with the night before?

  I roll my eyes.

  And who uses the word floozy?

  One name comes to mind. Tracey, my mother. That’s her word.

  Shaking my head, I get back to important things. Like who spent part of last night tickling my ovaries.

  As I think about it, the thing that bothers me most is that neither guy is amorous enough this morning for me to be able to accurately determine the culprit. How sad is that?

  Ohmigod! Have I lost my touch? Do I suddenly suck in bed?

  Cash clearing his throat reminds me he’s awaiting my answer.

  “Oh, uh, you know I’ll do whatever I can to pay you back, but it kinda depends on the night. I can’t be out too—”

  “Oh, you won’t be out very late. This is an accounting project I’d like you to look at. I just ask that you don’t put your hair in a bun or wear orthopedic shoes.”

  I laugh at his vision. “Fine. I guess I can work my numeric magic without the tools of my trade.”

  “I’m sure you can,” he says absently. “In the meantime, however, you’ll need a ride to school, right?”

  “Um, yeah.” I didn’t even think of that. These guys have really scrambled my brain. “I guess I will.”

  “Give me ten minutes and I’ll be there to get you.”

  My brain finally starts working and I begin to think like a rational person. If Cash takes me to school, I’ll have no wa
y home unless I call a taxi, which will get expensive since I’ll have to take one to work and back all weekend until my car gets fixed.

  “You know, I can skip school today. It’s not like I’m taking any really hard classes now anyway. That way I won’t have to impose on you anymore than I already have.”

  “You’re not imposing on me. I don’t mind.”

  “I’d really rather not bother you. Really. I’ll just see you tonight.”

  “Get dressed. Be ready. I’ll be there in ten.”

  With that, he hangs up, giving me no choice in the matter.

  Almost exactly ten minutes later, I hear the deep rumble of Cash’s bike. I feel it in my stomach, like it breathed excitement into my body in a very physical way. Try as I might to keep my distance from him, it’s clear I’m getting into a bad place with Cash.

  And the worst part of it is, I don’t think I want to stop.

  I don’t wait for him to come to the door. Rather, I go out to meet him, carefully locking the door behind me.

  Cash is straddling his glossy black-and-chrome bike. His jeans—blue for a change—are stretched tight across his thighs and his plain white tee is snug over his chest. His dark blond hair is disheveled, as always, making my fingers itch to run through it. But it’s his face that makes me catch my breath. More handsome than any guy I’ve ever seen in real life, there’s something about his eyes and his smile today that seem to sear the air between us, setting it on fire.

  And even though I know the risk, I want to jump head first into the flames.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO- Cash

  Something about the look on her face makes me feel like a meal. And if I were, I’d be a happy meal, for sure. Although I’m still impatient, I’m relieved. I figured she’d come around eventually. I knew she wouldn’t be able to fight what’s between us for too long. It’s too strong.

  And tempting.

  “You keep looking at me like that and you’re gonna have a big surprise to deal with when you get on this bike,” I tell her.

  “A big surprise?” she asks, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Nah, don’t you mean something more like a Tic Tac?”

  I love her sense of humor. It’s a little shy, just like her, and it pokes it head out at the most unusual times.

  I smile and hold out my hand to her. “Then come here and let me freshen your breath.”

  She laughs. And, as always, I want to do something immediately to make her do it again. She thinks too much, worries too much. I don’t know about what, but I can see it nonetheless. It makes me want to brighten her mood and give her as many carefree minutes as I can.

  Carefree and pleasurable.

  I stifle a groan.

  She puts her hand in mine and holds on to it as she straddles the seat behind me. Without turning around, I pass her the helmet. In the side view mirror, I watch her slip it onto her head. There’s something so sexy about seeing her in a helmet. Probably something about the way it makes me picture her in black, skin-tight leather, leaning forward on my bike with me behind her, my hands on her hips...

  I grit my teeth. Damn her and that lush body of hers!

  I reach back and curl my fingers behind each of her knees and pull her forward. I feel more than hear her gasp as her crotch snugs up against my hips and her chest flattens against my back.

  I feel satisfied that now she’s probably as highly attuned to me as I am to her, but then she ups the ante. She winds her arms around my waist and lets her hands ride dangerously low on my stomach. They’re resting right above my buckle. Right above where she’ll soon feel my hard-on if she’s not careful. I take a deep breath before I put the bike into gear and accelerate away from the curb.

  I can’t get her to school fast enough.

  As we get close to campus, she points ahead to which roads and turns to take to get her near where she needs to be. When we arrive, I pull along the curb and stop, dropping my feet to the ground to stabilize the bike while she dismounts. She stands facing me to take off the helmet. When she does, she shakes her dark hair free. It looks like something a girl in a shampoo commercial might do. I have no doubt she doesn’t have a clue how sexy she is. But she is. Holy hell, is she ever!

  She holds out the helmet to me, her eyes on mine. When I don’t take it, she glances down at it and back up to me in question. I stand, still straddling the bike, and brush the helmet away, instead running my hands through her long hair and pulling her mouth to mine.

  Although she’s obviously surprised, she doesn’t hold back. She kisses me like she means it. Like she wants more. All she’d have to do is say the word and I’d drive her straight back home and we’d spend the day in bed. But when I pull away and look into her wide eyes, I know it’s still a little too soon for that. She’s close, but she’s not quite ready.

  But I can wait. I’ll have to.

  “When are you gonna say ‘yes’?”

  She says nothing as she watches me with her deep emerald eyes. Her lips are red and puffy, and slightly parted as she breathes shallowly.

  I smile. Oh yeah, it won’t be long.

  “Call me when you’re ready for me to come get you,” I say, giving her a quick peck on the lips before I put on the helmet. She looks dazed, which makes me want to smile. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to say yes today. I’ll wait. You’ll be worth it.” Before I lower the shield over my face, I grin and wink at her. “And so will I.”

  I pull off down the street. When I look into the side view mirror, I see that she’s still standing exactly where I left her, staring after me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE- Olivia

  It’s official. Cash is in my head. I may be present physically for all my classes, but it doesn’t do me one bit of good. The only thing I learn is that he kisses like a tornado that’s hell bent on ruining my life.

  I still don’t know who was in my room last night, but I’m starting to genuinely hope it was Cash and not Nash. Yes, Nash is everything I should want in a man, everything my mother tried to drum into my head. Not to mention that he’s hotter than seven shades of hell and could probably make me forget my convictions when he kisses me.

  But beside Cash…he’s beginning to pale in comparison.

  I don’t know if it’s my inherent love of the sexy bad boy or if it’s that Cash is turning out to be more than what I initially thought. Either way, he’s in my head. Under my skin. And I doubt I’ll be able to resist him much longer.

  Don’t get me wrong. He’s still dangerous and will probably break my heart. And I’ll try to hold out as long as I can. But in my heart, in my gut, I know there’s something between us that won’t go away until we sweat it out of each other.

  The fun way.

  But the way that will end with me in tears, watching him leave.

  At least this time, it’s a choice, though. It’s my choice. I’m going into it knowing full well that might happen. I might not be able to keep from getting hurt, but I’m in control enough to make the choice for myself.

  And, in the end, I’ll choose Cash. Try as I might to fight it, it’s inevitable. If only he could only be a little, teeny, tiny bit like Nash…

  My phone jars me from my thoughts. I forgot to turn the ringer off. I jump, scrambling to dig it out of my bag and answer it before I get crucified by my professor.

  I reach for the button on the side to mute it and am getting ready to slip it back into my bag when I see Ginger’s name on the screen. With a shrug, I pick up my book and my bag and head for the door. I’ve already disrupted class and I’m not learning a thing anyway. I might as well just go ahead and leave.

  When I hit the talk button, I’m greeted by Ginger’s raised, irate voice and a long string of profanity. “Stay in your lane you limp-dick, candy-ass, crazy mother fu—”

  “Ginger?” I interrupt.

  She quiets immediately. “Oh, Liv. Hi, sweetie. I didn’t hear you answer.”

  “I can’t imagine why,” I remark dryly. “What�
�s up?”

  “Well, actually, I’m on my way to get you.”

  “Me? Why?” The hair at my nape prickles with unease. If Ginger is on her way to get me, something’s wrong.

  “Because your car is broken again, right?”

  “Um, yes, but how did you know?”

  “You had to have someone drive you all the way to Salt Springs for your last shift, remember?”

  Nash. “Oh, right. But it’s been fixed since then.”

  “Well hell,” she says in frustration. “But wait, you just said it’s broken.”

  “I know. It is. It’s just a different break.”

  “Liv, seriously, I fear for your life in that piece of shit. No car should tear up as frequently as yours does. Do you have Munchausen’s by proxy?”

  “Munchausen’s by proxy?”

  “Yeah, you know where people, like, poison their family members and stuff for attention.”

  “I know what it is. I’m just a little surprised you do.”

  I can hear the proud smile in her voice. “I saw a special on the Discovery Channel.”

  “You were watching the Discovery Channel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Um, why?”

  “I lost the remote.”

  “You lost the remote?”

  “Yes. Are you just gonna repeat everything I say?”

  “If you keep saying ridiculously unbelievable things then yes, probably.”

  “What have I said that’s ridiculous?”

  “That I might have Munchausen’s by proxy. With my car. That you learned something on the Discovery Channel. That you even know what the Discovery Channel is. And that you sat in your living room watching a show about Munchausen’s Syndrome because you lost the remote control. How can you lose the remote control in a house that’s no bigger than yours?”

  “It was in the freezer. Apparently when I took out the vodka, I set the remote control down.”

  “That makes sense,” I say sarcastically.

  “The batteries in that bitch’ll probably never die now,” she says with a bark of laughter.

  “Ginger, can I ask you a question?” I ask gently.