Back to You: Bad Boys of Red Hook

by Robin Kaye

  A few minutes later the bed dipped and Storm slid in beside her, pulled her against him, and spooned her. “If we talk about whatever’s bothering you, you might actually be able to sleep instead of pretending.”

  Tension rolled through her. “I’m not pretending. I’m resting my eyes.”

  “Sure you are.”

  She rolled over, exasperated. He wore a big smile, and another part of his anatomy was happy again…or should she say still. She raised an eyebrow.

  “I can’t help it.”

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “I was picturing your expression, which explains both the hard-on and the smile—at least part of it.”

  “What’s the other part?”

  He pulled her closer, rested her leg over his hip, and placed his hand on the base of her spine. “I was also thinking of cuddling up with you.” He had free rein of her body, touching, stroking, discovering and hell, igniting—not that it took much. Within two minutes she was melting against him.

  “Is this cuddling or foreplay?”

  He slid his beard against her nipple, and she sucked in a lungful of air. Damn, the man knew just what to do to discombobulate her. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

  He seemed up for either or both.

  Storm caught her nipple with his teeth and slipped his hand between her legs. Her hips rose to meet it. “Foreplay it is.”

  Bree thought she was quite imaginative when it came to fantasizing about sex with Storm, but she’d never dreamed of an orgasmic marathon. She tried to catch him, but he slipped out of her grasp, and when his mouth joined his fingers, she was too busy riding the big “O” roller coaster to do anything but scream and hang on.

  God, she floated down, realizing she had landed back in his arms, his ever-present erection pressing against the thigh she’d tossed over his.

  Once she recovered the use of her hands, she ran them over his chest, which, she had to admit, was one of the nicest she’d ever seen. The man could work as a cover model—washboard abs and all. She let her fingers do the walking and stepped down each ridge of his stomach, moving her thigh out of the way, giving her a clear path to her target. She slid her mouth over one of Storm’s flat nipples and reached for Mr. Happy, when Storm stopped her progress.

  Bree released his nipple with a pop. “What? Are you the only one allowed to cuddle?”

  “No.”

  She smiled at the way Storm choked the word out. For the first time in her life she felt sexually powerful and in charge. It was a heady experience.

  She curled her fingers around him and again was so fascinated by how hard and smooth it was. She slid farther down the bed and wondered if she was doing it right; Storm appeared to be in pain. She peered at him as she nuzzled his erection. “If I do anything you don’t like, just tell me to stop.”

  He groaned, but it didn’t sound like an I’m-not-enjoying-this groan—just the opposite.

  “Bree, you don’t have to.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do, but he seemed so on edge that it might not matter. She slid closer and looked over the top, right into Storm’s eyes, and smiled. “Oh, but I want to. Don’t worry. I’m not a complete novice.” He grimaced, and she almost laughed. “With YouTube, there’s nothing you can’t learn. I just wish I’d paid better attention. Of course, at the time I thought I had as much chance of being in this position as I had of being hit by an asteroid while walking nude in Times Square.” She took a swipe over the head with her tongue.

  “YouTube?” he croaked.

  “Uh-huh. I watched Blow Jobs for Dummies.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Storm held Breezy while she slept and wished his brain had an ON/OFF switch. His mind reeled with the implications of what had happened between them—implications he’d never before associated with sex. Words like love had never spun through his mind.

  Breezy wasn’t having the same problem. She slept like the dead.

  He’d thought when he finally said the “L” word—even in the making love context—he’d get a reaction. Something. The porpoise-in-the-fishing-net look she’d sent him was not on his list of possibilities, but then Breezy was nothing if not surprising—case in point, Blow Jobs for Dummies. She’d proven to be an excellent student. Damn—she’d definitely blown his mind.

  The sex was exceptional and Bree certainly seemed to be happy with that part of their relationship, but he wasn’t dumb enough to think that just because he was making love meant she was too. He hadn’t the first clue what she felt about him.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. How in the hell was he supposed to know if she was making love to him, or just using him?

  “Are you always this cheerful in the morning?” Bree’s bright green eyes stared at him while he’d been gazing into space.

  He pulled her in tight, and her eyes widened before he kissed her, long, and slow, and deep. “Oh yeah, you can count on me always being this cheerful whenever I wake up with you.” He didn’t mention that he wanted to do that every morning from now on. No, that would scare her away.

  “You sure didn’t sound happy. Angry or frustrated was more like it.”

  “I was thinking about work.” She knew he was lying—he could see it in her face—but she didn’t call him on it.

  “What time is it?” She rested her head on his shoulder and tossed her arm over his chest.

  Damn, it felt so natural. She fit against him perfectly like no one ever had or probably ever would.

  “Almost nine.”

  “What?” She grabbed the sheet and would have jumped out of bed if he hadn’t held her.

  “Calm down. I called Rocki earlier and everything is fine.” Oh man, she looked like she wanted to kill him. He figured it was safer if he let her go.

  “Fine?” Bree slid out of bed, pulling the sheet with her. “I have responsibilities, appointments—” She snatched her dress off the couch where he’d thrown it and found her bra on the floor. “I have to put in a liquor order, and I can’t find my underwear.”

  Storm got out of bed, slid his arms around her, and smiled. So okay, he’d taken her thong and stashed it in his jacket pocket. “If you’re trying to make me regret last night and this morning, it’s not working. I’m not going to complain about your going commando. Damn, Breezy, just knowing you’re walking around without panties is enough to make my whole month. I’m sorry about the appointments, though; I didn’t know.”

  “It’s my own fault. I should have set an alarm. I can’t believe I slept so late.”

  Storm tried not to smile too much. “You may have slept late, but you didn’t get much sleep.”

  Bree turned bright red and pressed her hot face into his neck. “God, I’m so not good at this morning-after thing.”

  He kissed her shoulder. “You go ahead and get dressed. I’ll call the driver and make coffee.”

  She gave him a kiss and smiled. “Coffee sounds great. Thanks. I’ll be out in just a minute.”

  She turned and ran to the head while he pulled on his clothes.

  He heard the shower and was tempted to go and join her, but thought she’d appreciate breakfast more than another round of sex. He was fixing an omelet when she came out carrying an armful of sheets. “What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning up and trying to find my underwear.”

  He tossed the filling on one side of the omelet and slid it under the broiler, shaking his head. “Bree, Thomas has a cleaning service. You don’t need to do that.”

  “He does?”

  “Babe, if a guy can afford a ten-million-dollar boat, he can afford to pay people to clean up after us.”

  She sat down on the closest couch. “Ten million dollars?”

  “Yeah.”

  “U.S. dollars?”

  He handed her a cup of coffee, gave her a quick kiss, and went to finish cooking.

  “How did you and the owner get to be such good friends that he’d loan you his boat?”

&n
bsp; “I don’t know. He saw some of my designs and liked what I did, but he had some definite ideas about what he was looking for, especially in the interior. He wanted a home away from home. We went back and forth with e-mails, plans, phone conversations, and we got to know each other pretty well. Thomas flew out to Auckland for the sea trials and spent some time in the area. We’ve been close ever since.”

  “What if we crashed or something?”

  “It’s insured. And Breezy, I don’t crash boats.”

  “No, you capsize them.”

  “That wasn’t my fault. Hell, I was sleeping when that happened.”

  “Still, it happened.”

  “I wouldn’t have taken you out in a gale. We were perfectly safe and so was the boat. What’s the problem?”

  “Nothing, I guess. It’s just so different from what I’m used to.”

  “It’s definitely a change from Red Hook.” He set their omelet on the table and sat beside her. “But sometimes change is good.”

  She cut a bite of food and looked over at him. “Do you own a boat?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Wow, you’re a much better cook than you used to be. So, how come?”

  “How come I’m a better cook, or how come I don’t own a boat?”

  “Both.”

  “I’m a better cook because I like to eat. As for not having a boat, I don’t know. I’m always sailing, doing sea trials, and racing, so I’ve never really felt the need; plus owning a boat is a big commitment.”

  “And you shy away from commitment.”

  “That’s not true. I just take my commitments seriously. Maybe I haven’t committed because I’ve never wanted anything or anyone badly enough before. Like I said, sometimes change is good.”

  * * *

  Bree got out of the car, doing her best not to pull a Britney Spears, and cringed when she spotted Daniel Knickerbocker pacing the sidewalk. He was the last man she wanted to see while she was sans undies.

  Daniel whirled on her and she took a step back. His hard eyes took too long looking her up and down, and then he licked his lips. Most people would think that was sexual, but Daniel reminded her of a Komodo dragon, flitting his tongue before he struck. “We had a ten o’clock appointment.”

  Arms crossed, nostrils flared, legs spread, Storm stood beside her, tension radiating off him. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

  Bree’s eyes went from Storm to Daniel. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’m late. It’s completely my fault.” She dug through her purse for her keys and unlocked the outer door. “Daniel, why don’t you wait for me in the bar. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “I’m finished cooling my heels. I’m sure whatever you have to do can wait.”

  Storm stepped in front of her, blocking Daniel. “No, it can’t. Bree will be down in a minute. You can wait in the bar, on the sidewalk, or you can leave.” Storm took her keys, unlocked the door to the bar, and returned them to her. “Go on up, Bree. I’ll wait here with your friend.”

  “Thank you.” She had an awkward to-kiss-or-not-to-kiss moment. She chose the latter. Storm didn’t look happy about her decision. She just wished she knew if it would pour gas on the fire the men had going, or extinguish it. Still, she wasn’t willing to take the chance, so she ran up the steps holding her skirt down, feeling two sets of eyes on her ass.

  Bree managed the world’s fastest clothing change and was back in the bar wearing her usual business attire in less than three minutes.

  The empty bar.

  Well, empty except for Storm. “Where’s Daniel?”

  Storm didn’t bother turning around. He met her eyes in the mirror. “Daniel left.”

  “Why? What did you say to him?”

  Storm finished wiping down a bottle of rum, pulled down the next bottle, and turned toward her. “Care to rephrase the question?”

  Bree pressed her nails into her palms. “Would you just tell me what happened?”

  “Your friend Daniel is interested in more than a business relationship with you. He told me to leave you alone, and I told him to go to hell—nicely. I don’t share.”

  Bree closed her eyes. and when she opened them, Storm was still staring and still angry, and damn sexy in a slightly Cro-Magnon way. “This is just great. I prefer to keep my private life private. I work with Daniel, and my personal life isn’t his business.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “That’s neither here nor there. The fact is, I have to deal with him, I was late, and your getting into a pissing match with him doesn’t help matters.”

  “What would you have me do? He told me to back off. He said you two were dating.”

  “I can handle Daniel.”

  Storm laughed. “From what I saw the other night, Daniel was the one handling you. I don’t want him alone with you. I don’t want him close enough to touch you. I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t have to trust him, but you should trust me. If you don’t, last night was a mistake.” She turned toward her office when Storm jumped the bar and cut her off. Only Storm could piss her off and impress her at the same time—he even nailed the landing, but he didn’t look happy about it.

  “You don’t throw a bomb like that and just walk away. Bree, let’s talk.” His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his neck bulged.

  Bree’s gaze strayed down to see if anything else was bulging, but it was hard to tell. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he put it in the downward dog position just to avoid a zipper tattoo. She raked her hands through her hair, trying to get her mind back on the PG track and set some limits. “It’s not a bomb, Storm. It’s a fact. I have a business relationship with Daniel. I work with him. I’ve been handling him for over a year. I don’t need a bodyguard, a chaperone, or a jealous lover.”

  Storm took a step closer—close enough for her to catch a Storm-scented breath. “It’s more than business if he’s bringing you flowers, warns me off, and asks you out every chance he gets.”

  “How do you know that?” She was too shocked to even deny it, not that she would, but damn, a girl was supposed to have some secrets.

  “Nicki told me. She also told me that every time he comes in here, he tells her to get lost.”

  “She never said anything to me….”

  “Yeah, well, kids like Nicki would rather not know what your reaction would be. She’s been told to get lost all her life, Bree. It would kill her if you did too.”

  “I would never…I didn’t know.” How could she not know? How did she miss that? She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off a sudden chill.

  “I know that and you know that, but Nicki doesn’t. I told her if Daniel ever said it again, to come and get me—I’d tell him to get lost. I don’t want him around her, Bree. I don’t want him around either of you.”

  “I would never let anything happen to Nicki.”

  Storm stepped closer, wrapped his arms around her, and rested his chin on the top of her head. She burrowed in. “I know that, babe, but you can’t be everywhere. He’s told Nicki more than once to take off. She’s afraid of him, and the kid has great instincts. You’re going to do what you have to do. I’d just appreciate it if you did it in a public place. I don’t trust this guy, and I’m not blind. I knew you were about a minute away from taking him out the other night. You were channeling your inner Buffy. If Francis hadn’t stepped in, you would have decked the asshole.”

  Bree blew out a breath. It really sucked that Storm was right. “Okay, I’ll agree to be careful, and I’ll arrange to have any meetings with Daniel in public, but don’t think this changes anything. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself, and I’m more than capable of decking Daniel should the need arise. You of all people should know that.”

  “Just be careful, Breezy. Your purse isn’t big enough to hold a cast-iron skillet.”

  She couldn’t resist, so she reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed the smile right off his face.

&nb
sp; * * *

  Storm was just about to drag Bree into the back room, when their kiss was shattered by applause. Shit.

  “Well, hot damn. It’s about time.” Francis pulled Bree out of Storm’s arms, hugged her, and then smacked him on the back so hard, if Storm hadn’t been prepared, he would have flown into the bar.

  Bree’s face turned as red as her hair.

  “Great timing, Francis. You couldn’t wait until I finished kissing her to applaud?”

  “Hell no. You were ready to pick her up and carry her to the back room. Don’t deny it. Been there, done that—only with Patrice, and I got two of the prettiest little girls to show for it.”

  If Francis’s grin got any bigger, his face would split in half.

  “I’m here to do inventory, so you two—carry on.”

  Like that was going to happen. Not with the embarrassment coloring Breezy’s face.

  Francis went around the bar and started counting bottles, ignoring them.

  Bree rolled her eyes. “I’d better go place the liquor order, and you need to relieve Rocki. Pete’s probably driving her nuts.”

  “Right. So I’ll see you later?”

  “I’m meeting with distributors today. I should be done in time to make dinner.”

  “I’ll handle dinner—just be home by six.” He gave her a quick kiss good-bye and watched her rush to the office. When he heard the door slam, he turned to glare at Francis behind the bar. “Great timing, Frankie.”

  “Shit, man, next time put a sock on the door or something.”

  “You couldn’t quietly leave, or go back outside and give me a little warning?”

  “I’ll remember next time.”

  “You embarrassed the crap out of Bree.”

  “I wasn’t the one with my tongue down her throat and my hands on her ass. So, your date went well?”

  He turned around. “How do you know about our date?”

  Francis shrugged. “Patrice and Rocki are friends, and the CIA could take lessons from my wife when it comes to interrogation techniques.”

  “I assume she already knows about the kiss.”

  “Yeah, I had to text her if I didn’t want to spend the rest of the week sleeping on the couch.”