The Braddock Boys: Brent

by Kimberly Raye

  He slid his arms around her and down the small of her back until he cupped her buttocks. As if she weighed nothing, he pulled her legs up on either side of him and lifted her. He settled her firmly against the rock-hard length barely contained by his zipper.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and lost herself to the delicious friction as he rocked her. The course material of his jeans rasped against her sensitive flesh, and pleasure rushed through her, igniting every nerve ending until her body glowed from the feel of his.

  A day’s growth of beard rubbed against the tender flesh of her neck, the slope of her breasts, chafing her and stirring her sensitive skin. He arched her backward, drew one swollen nipple into his mouth and sucked her so hard she almost fainted from the pleasure.

  The sensation was both pleasure and pain as he suckled and nipped with his teeth. No man had ever done that and she arched as warmth gushed between her legs from the pure intensity.

  Then he captured her lips in a kiss that sent her senses reeling. His tongue tangled with hers, delving and tasting until she could barely breathe.

  He turned and she felt the mattress at her back. He leaned back and made quick work of his jeans until he stood before her wearing nothing but a look of pure intent.

  She leaned up on her elbows as her gaze swept him from head to toe. Muscles carved his torso, from his bulging biceps and shoulders to his ripped abdomen. Dark, silky hair sprinkled his chest, narrowing to a tiny whorl of silk that bisected his abs before spreading into a soft nest that circled his sizeable erection. A drop of pearly liquid beaded on the plum-like head of his penis and she had the insane urge to lean forward and taste him.

  Before she had the chance, he turned and retrieved a condom from his pocket.

  He tore open the foil packet and rolled it down his hard length. Catching her bent knees in his hands, he parted her and gazed at the heart of her.

  No man had ever looked at her so fiercely, so intently and a wave of doubt spiraled through her. She tried to close her legs.

  “Don’t be shy now. Not with me.” His gaze caught and held hers. “Not ever with me.”

  She nodded and let herself open. He looked his fill, his gaze roving over her, his eyes flaring so hot and bright that she felt her own body temperature rise.

  When she was this close to going up in flames, he leaned over her and plunged his hard, hot length inside, until flesh met flesh and he filled her completely.

  The feeling took her breath away and her heart stopped for a long moment. She’d never felt as close to a man before.

  Sure, she’d had sex. But it had always been swift and to the point. The primary goal? To get to the good stuff. The orgasm itself.

  This was different. This was the good stuff. His body flush against hers. His lips driving her insane. His hands roaming over her body. His erection rasping her tender insides.

  He pushed himself an inch deeper before he started to withdraw. She clutched at his shoulders, desperate for more as he plunged back inside. In and out. Over and over. Until her nerves spun out of control.

  Sensation snatched her up and whirled her around like a tornado. The air rushed from her lungs and the room started to spin.

  He pushed deeper, harder, faster, until she couldn’t take anymore. Pleasure crashed over her, turning her this way and that, spinning her faster than she’d ever thought possible in her wildest, most erotic fantasies. This was a fantasy, she reminded herself even though it felt so incredibly real. The roughness of his skin, the power of his body, the possessiveness as he stared down at her and bucked into her one final time.

  His back arched, his muscles strained. His eyes glittered, blazing a bright, brilliant purple—

  She blinked and the vivid color faded into a sea of sparkling green. Confusion rushed through her, but then he rolled onto his back and pulled her flush against his side. His arms went around her and he held her tight, as if she were his one and only. His woman. And he never meant to let her go.

  It was a crazy, hopelessly romantic thought. The kind straight out of a cheesy romance novel, but then that’s what this was. A fairytale.

  A fantasy.

  One that would end all too quickly once Rayne arrived in Skull Creek and she returned to her life.

  It would be over all too soon, which was why she intended to relish every moment of what was happening right now.

  She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

  12

  WHAT THE HELL was he doing?

  Not the sex part, of course. He knew why he’d done that. The moment he’d seen her dancing in the window, he’d known he couldn’t resist any longer. Even more, he hadn’t wanted to resist. While he’d yet to figure out Abby, he’d learned enough to know that she wasn’t like one of the locals. There would be no seeing her day in and day out.

  And since she was the only woman he couldn’t read, he knew there would be no getting to know her. No real connection.

  Just sex.

  It made sense, which was why he’d given in last night.

  That and one too many drinks.

  So he didn’t regret the sex part. It had been fantastic. Phenomenal.

  It was the fact that she was curled up next to him sleeping like a baby that he was having trouble with.

  That, and the fact that he liked it.

  A helluva lot.

  The realization struck and he stiffened. He slid away from her and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was a vampire, for Christ’s sake. He didn’t cuddle. He had sex and drank blood and inspired fear in the heart of millions. He wasn’t the cuddling type, and neither was she. He could tell by the way she rolled onto her back and threw her arms above her head that she wasn’t used to sleeping with anyone.

  Yet she’d fallen asleep in his arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if she liked it. As if she liked him.

  He ditched the thought. There was no like involved at all. They barely knew each other. He’d worn her out, soaked up her delicious energy. It made sense she would be exhausted to the point of falling asleep.

  What didn’t make sense was the fact that he still wanted her. He should have felt one hundred percent satisfied, his hunger sated. He wasn’t.

  Staring at her spread out on the sheets, he wanted more than anything to climb back into bed with her. He wanted to see if she made the same noises if he licked her to the point of orgasm. If she would cry his name at the moment of release. If she would bury her head in his neck and fall fast asleep when they were done. Crazy.

  Sleeping wasn’t on the list of possibilities with Abby. Nor was waking up with her or having breakfast or waltzing outside hand-in-hand in the bright light of day.

  There was no morning after for Brent. He was a vampire, and so he gathered up his clothes and did what he’d been doing for the past one hundred and something years.

  He turned his back and walked away.

  ABBY LISTENED to the click of the door and the roar of his engine.

  He was leaving.

  That fact shouldn’t have bothered her.

  For one thing, she hated sleeping with anyone. She was a major bed hog and so it was better that he’d left before she’d had to fight him for the covers. Besides, sleeping wasn’t part of her fantasy. It was all about unleashing her feminine wiles and she’d done so last night. Now it was time to get some much needed rest.

  Then she could go for round two tonight.

  And that was the problem in a nutshell.

  She much preferred Brent not sticking around to see her in the bright light of day with major bedhead. Talk about blowing her newly found image.

  At the same time, she wasn’t nearly done building that image of herself as a desirable woman. She had several days left until Rayne came back and she had to return to her life, and she wanted to make the most of each. She certainly wasn’t bummed because she’d thought for a split-second that Brent might actually like her. They didn’t even know each other, and
she fully intended to keep it that way.

  No, it was time to move on. If she wanted to unleash her feminine side, she didn’t have to do it with him.

  There were plenty of men in Skull Creek. Granted, she might not have the same sizzling chemistry with any other man, but she was willing to give it a shot and test out a few more tidbits of wisdom courtesy of Winona and her infomercials.

  Like the fact that men had a weakness for feet.

  That’s what Winona preached when Abby turned on the television set later that morning.

  “Get a pedicure,” the old woman was saying. “Clean up those tootsies and, if you’re lucky, your man might take the hint and suck on a few.”

  It made sense and so Abby headed for the local hair salon to indulge in her first ever pedicure.

  Because this fantasy wasn’t about Brent. It was about Abby. About delving deep and living out her most erotic thoughts. It was about enjoying her femininity.

  Even if it hurt like hell.

  “Do you have to scrub so hard?” she asked the blonde who leaned over the footrest, a pumice stone in her hand and a determined look on her face.

  “What on earth did you do? Walk across the Sahara barefoot? Your feet are as rough as horse hooves.”

  “Thanks for the boost to my confidence.”

  “Seriously. Haven’t you ever heard of lotion?”

  “I don’t usually have time for lotion.” Not in the military. She barely had time to snag a tube of Chapstick at the commissary in between field operations. Until now.

  She had five full days left to herself before the real world intruded. “I’d like a foot bath, too,” she told the blonde. “And a paraffin wax. And a hot oil massage on the balls of my feet.”

  By the time she left the salon, she’d spent a hundred and fifty dollars and her feet looked ready for a flip flop commercial.

  Instead of heading for the beach though, she hit the nearest bar and grill, determined to make the most of the time she had left. She wore a blue jean mini skirt, a white tank top with the phrase Cowgirls Do It Better spelled out in pink rhinestones and a pair of pink high heels.

  Her outfit wasn’t as flashy as the red dress last night, but it did spark some serious interest from the male clientale of Joe’s Bar and Grill. A truth that fed her self-esteem and kept her from running back to the motel to see if Brent had returned.

  This wasn’t about turning on one man. It was about exercising her newfound feminine wiles and wowing them all.

  And that’s exactly what she intended to do.

  SHE WASN’T IN her room.

  Brent pulled into the parking lot and stared at the darkened window where Abby had put on her show the night before. Disappointment rushed through him. It was a crazy feeling because he surely hadn’t expected her to be ready and waiting for him after he’d walked out on her this morning.

  Any other woman, yes.

  They would have been ready and waiting for him, desperate for a little more of his attention.

  Not Abby. She wasn’t the least bit fazed by his vampire charisma. No sitting around, pining away. No meeting him at the door wearing nothing but Saran Wrap and a hopeful expression.

  Instead, she was prowling the local bar.

  The truth hit him when he turned the corner and saw her rental car parked in front of a neon Bud Light sign. It was a cause for celebration, right? The last thing he wanted was a woman getting hooked on him. But damned if he wasn’t a little ticked off that she’d moved on quite so fast.

  He frowned and an image rushed at him. He saw Abby stretched out on the bed, a smile curving her full lips as she reached out for another man.

  Was she friggin’ nuts?

  His spot wasn’t even cold and she was already looking for a replacement? Not that she would find one. Hell, no. What they had done last night had been one-of-a-kind. An experience she wouldn’t be able to duplicate with just anyone.

  On top of that, she wasn’t the type of woman to sleep around. She wasn’t nearly experienced enough to tell the good guys from the bad.

  And you know this because…?

  He’d seen the hesitation in her eyes, the awkwardness of her moves and the damned wonder on her face when she’d exploded around him. She wasn’t nearly the wild and wicked woman she pretended to be and she was about to bite off more than she could chew if he didn’t stop her.

  He pulled up behind her, killed the engine and climbed out of the car.

  “SO YOU’RE FROM Charlotte?”

  “Chicago,” she told the cowboy sitting next to her. His name was Paul and he was more the drugstore variety than the real deal. He sold real estate during the day and bootscooted his way across the local honky tonks at night. He’d been on his way to the Cherry Creek Saloon when he’d decided to stop off for a drink. One look at Abby and he’d settled on the stool next to her and offered to buy her a drink.

  She was on her second and doing her best not to notice the narrowness of his shoulders beneath the starched shirt. So what if he wasn’t as muscular as Brent? He was still a decent guy. Even if he did smell like the fragrance section of a department store.

  “So you’ve been in Skull Creek for two months now?” he asked. “Two days.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He grinned. “I knew that.”

  He did. She’d told him as much three times, along with the fact that she was from Chicago and she liked Italian food and her favorite color was red. But he’d been too distracted by her chest to pay much attention to anything she said.

  Yeah, baby.

  She’d wowed him to the point that he couldn’t think straight, much less pay attention to what she was saying.

  Score one for Abby the ultra femme.

  At the same time, it would have been kind of nice if he had looked her in the eyes. At least once.

  “That’s a really nice shirt.”

  “You should know, buddy” came a deep, familiar voice. “You’ve been staring at it long enough.”

  Awareness sizzled up Abby’s spine and she knew, even before she chanced a glance, that Brent Braddock stood directly behind her.

  13

  ABBY TWISTED TO SEE Brent, his gaze riveted on a surprised Paul. The cowboy’s hat bobbed as he forced his attention from Abby’s chest to the man standing behind her.

  “Who are you?” Paul asked.

  “Her bodyguard. Now get lost.”

  “But I coughed up the cash for two margaritas.”

  “You’ll be coughing up your dinner if you don’t slide off that barstool and start walking.”

  Brent didn’t have to repeat himself. Paul hit his boots and retreated across the room to a redhead who stood near the jukebox. Strong fingers gripped Abby’s arm and tugged her from her seat.

  She shrugged away from Brent and faced off with him, her chin in the air. Her chest heaved from all the extra air she was forced to draw in because suddenly, she couldn’t seem to get enough with him so close. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving you from yourself.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need a white knight.”

  “Do you know what that guy had in mind?”

  She arched an eyebrow. “Sex?”

  “Sex,” he declared. She smiled and his gaze narrowed. “What are you? Some kind of nympho?”

  “I’m a jilted woman who’s trying to get over a bad relationship and have a little fun. I’ve got a week until my ex rolls back into town so I can tie up loose ends. I want to enjoy myself until then.”

  She could feel his gaze on her for a long moment. “Bullshit,” he finally muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you’re not a receptionist and you’re not from Chicago and you sure as hell aren’t trying to get over your ex.”

  “How do you know?”

  He picked up the Driver’s License sitting on the bar next to her margarita, which she’d handed over when she’d ordered. “Because this was issued in South Carolina, not Illin
ois.”

  “So? Maybe I spent most of my life in South Carolina and moved to Chicago just recently.”

  “Did you?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to know?” she countered. “Not me or my life history. Just sex, remember?”

  He looked like he wanted to say something, but then his mouth clamped together and he signaled the waiter for a beer.

  “So what’s with Urban Cowboy over there? He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  “You don’t know my type. You don’t know me,” she reminded him.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, his gaze moved around the room, touching here and there, before zeroing in on her once again. “I know that guy lives with his mother and bums money off her to buy beer.” When she arched an eyebrow, he shrugged. “It’s a small town.”

  “Thanks for the warning, but I hadn’t planned on marrying him. It’s all about fun, remember. A week of it, to be exact.” She still had five days left. A lifetime compared to her usual schedule.

  A piddly amount when it came to the rest of her life.

  She had to build enough memories to last. It was a realization she’d come to during her foot fest that day. Odds were she would never get the chance she had right now. No time to play dress up. To pretend to be something she wasn’t. A lifetime and this was the first time she could really and truly enjoy herself. Once she dragged Rayne back to face charges and cleared her reputation, she would go back to doing what she did best—leading her men and running successful field ops.

  In the meantime, she was going to make the most of her time in Skull Creek.

  With or without Brent.

  She glanced to the side and eyed him. He looked so handsome that she wanted to hop into his lap and do her own variation of the very detailed lap dance she’d seen Winona demonstrate. It was a wild, crazy impulse. One she never would have acted on in the real world.

  She didn’t act on it now, not with him sitting so close and staring at her as if she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. He looked irritated. Jealous even and guilt spiraled through her.