Sweetest Mistake (Nolan Brothers #2)

by Amy Olle

  “Thank you.”

  She slid the bottle back to her side of the table and added another splash to her glass. “Your dad… did you miss him?”

  He snatched up his tumbler. “Nope.” He threw back the contents of the glass and reached for the pint.

  Smart woman that she was, she understood that door was closed.

  “My dad used to come up with creative ways to try to make me quit stuttering. O-one time, he made me talk with a stone under my tongue for a wh-whole month. It didn’t do any good, of course, but he was too stubborn to admit wh-when he was wrong.”

  Luke stared into his glass to hide his scowl. “Sure sounds creative, all right.”

  “He tried to take my name away.” Her throat worked until finally she forced out the word. “Cole. I don’t know what it was, but I couldn’t say the name without a huge struggle. So he refused to let me say it or even write it for over a year, and every day he threatened to file the paperwork to permanently change it.”

  Though she kept her tone light, Luke could hear the ring of anguish in her voice.

  A tiny hiccup escaped her. “Eventually he gave up and just hit—”

  Luke’s head snapped up.

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, as if to pull the words back.

  His stomach gave a sickening wrench. “He hit you?”

  She hesitated. “No. Not often. He had a temper and I… tried his patience.”

  “Don’t do that.” Fury caused his hands to shake. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for his weaknesses.”

  Large, dark eyes stared up at him. Her throat worked. “You’re right. That was silly of me.”

  Of its own volition, his hand reached out and he traced the fine bones of her face, from her fragile cheekbones to her small chin, imagining the damage a man’s fist could yield.

  “You aren’t silly.” He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb, where her freckles should be, but weren’t.

  She tilted her head, pressing her cheek into his palm. “Thank you for saying that.”

  With the rum sloping through his bloodstream, lazy warmth wrapped around him. She slid off her barstool and came to stand between his thighs. His cock took immediate notice, even as her fragrant perfumed scent filled his senses and a pang of frustration kicked in his chest.

  Warm whiskey swirls pulled him in, until her tongue darted out to lick her lips and his gaze riveted on her mouth.

  “You’re so cool,” she whispered.

  A soft laugh rumbled through him. “You’re drunk.”

  “A little.” Her soft breath rushed over his skin. “And you have the most kissable lips.”

  “Maybe you should prove it.”

  Her body pressed against his and she touched his lips with hers. He held himself still while she explored his mouth with tiny tastes and tentative nibbles. A soft, slow lick.

  Heat seared him.

  She pulled back and gazed into his eyes for a long moment, as though searching for some clue.

  He tossed up a smile, the one that charmed everybody, while his mind puzzled out the most efficient means of getting her naked. The bare bones of a plan formed, but before he could set it in motion, her expression shifted, growing serious, and her brown eyes turned all soft and slippery.

  Unease stole over him.

  Her voice trembled when she spoke. “You’re so beautiful.”

  The smile froze on his face. Her fingers touched the side of his cheek and he only just managed to stifle a flinch.

  “Not just here,” she said, and then she pressed the flat of her palm to his chest. Above his heart. “But here.”

  The air sucked from his lungs. He couldn’t draw breath, and his heart started to pound. Vines wrapped around his ankles to hold him rooted to the spot, unable to run while she gazed upon him.

  The real him.

  It was the first time in as long as he could recall anyone bothering to look beyond his pretty face, past the mask of charm he kept in place.

  Now, for the first time, someone looked. And she found him beautiful.

  Her name broke over his lips.

  Then her plump mouth pulled down at the corners. “Except, of course, when you’re being a jerk.”

  A song ended and through the speakers, the DJ invited Noah and Mina to take to the dance floor. Emily pulled away. His hands shot out to grip her waist.

  He tugged and she fell softly against him. “Don’t go.”

  Her heat soothed the aches his body had carried for all time. He was drowning in her softness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Dance with me.” He spoke low in her ear.

  Gooseflesh chased up her arms. “I’m supposed to dance with Shea.”

  Indeed, the oldest Nolan brother wove his way through the crowd toward them.

  “Take my hand.”

  As if of its own volition, her hand settled inside his. The warmth of his skin sloped through her as he led her toward the dance area.

  Slipping an arm around her waist, he pulled her close.

  Her pulse thundered in her ears and she fixed her gaze on his chest, sneaking the occasional peek at the strong column of his neck.

  Her body hummed with awareness of him.

  “There it is.” His lips brushed her earlobe.

  She turned her head. “What?”

  He executed a small move to turn her toward the dance floor. “Shea and his wife are dancing.”

  Emily spotted Luke’s brother a few couples away with Isobel wrapped in his arms. “They’re married?”

  “They’ve got it into their heads that they don’t want to be together anymore.” The flat of Luke’s palm smoothed up her back.

  Sensation ricocheted through her and she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “They separated last year, yet they’re madly in love with each other.” His hand found the curve of her hip. “They’re driving everyone crazy.”

  It was too much, his heady scent and heated touch. His electric, lingering gaze. She started to tremble. From beneath her eyelashes, she snuck a glance at his face.

  Maybe it was the rum, but his beauty hurt to look at. His square jaw and pink lips. His eyes that shone like jewels against his tanned skin.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  At the bite in his tone, she ducked her chin. “S-sorry.”

  His grip on her hip tightened. “Because if you keep looking at me like that, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from doing something about it.”

  She bit down on her lower lip to hide the hitch in her breathing.

  “I’ll find us a nice, quiet place, and do all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for the past two months now.”

  Her tongue slipped out to lick her dry lips. “Wh-what things?”

  His fingertips danced over the bare skin of her shoulder. “I’ll touch you.” He dipped his head and his lips followed the path his fingertips had blazed. “Taste you.”

  She shivered.

  His mouth nuzzled her ear. “Tease you until you can’t endure anymore. And then….”

  “Wh-wh-what? And then wh-what?”

  “And then, I’m going to fuck you.”

  The swift, fierce shock of arousal zinged through her.

  “Is that what you want, Emily?” With an easy nudge, he entwined his fingers with hers. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

  More than she wanted her next breath, except, “I thought… you said it w-was a mistake. That I w-was a mistake.”

  On a curse, his large hand clamped around hers. He hauled her away from the dance floor and hustled her through the ballroom doors. In the hall, she stumbled along behind him until he pulled her with him into the library and swept shut the door, plunging them into darkness.

  The lock turned over, followed by the muffled sound of his footsteps on the Persian rug. A thump, another curse, and dim light from a lamp threw a warm glow over the room.

  “You think I rejected you.” Emotion rode the top of his v
oice.

  “You called m-me a mistake.” Hadn’t he?

  “No, not you.” He detached from the shadows. “It’s me. I… I can’t give you what you want.”

  “You don’t know wh-what I want. You never asked m-me.”

  His taut features softened. “What do you want, Emily?”

  “You.” She rushed forward with the words, close enough to feel the warmth from his body. “I want you.”

  “I can’t do long-term. Not right now.” His voice was rough, as though he was being pulled apart. “Maybe never.”

  “I don’t want y-your promises. Or your heart.” It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. She wanted whatever would make her feel less alone.

  His thumb dragged across her bottom lip with a ruthless stroke, rubbing lipstick from her mouth.

  She jerked her head back. “Stop, you’ll mess it up.”

  “Damn straight, I will.”

  She backed away. “I get it. You don’t like it.”

  “You’re right, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” Heat from his body invaded hers when he came to stand behind her. “You look hot as hell and I’m out of my mind with wanting you.”

  Her heart slammed against her breastbone. “I can’t tell if y-you’re teasing me.”

  His palm closed around her bare shoulder. His hand slid up the column of her throat, beneath Kate’s artful chignon. Emily protested, but his fingers tangled roughly through her hair and the heavy curtain fell over her shoulders.

  “I want you back.” He kneaded her scalp. “The real you. Without the sparkles and the paint.” His lips brushed her shoulder. “Without the dress.”

  He buried his hands in her tulle skirts and, slowly, inched the fabric up her thighs.

  Through the walls drifted the muffled drone of music and partygoers. A snatch of someone’s laughter rose above the din. Her gaze darted to the large picture window behind the mahogany desk.

  Then cool air kissed the skin of her thighs, and her bare bottom. Her thoughts scattered.

  A soft curse slipped from Luke and his calloused palms smoothed over the smooth globes of her buttocks, left exposed by the thong underwear she wore.

  Arousal spiraled through her to settle low in her belly.

  He rubbed her lower back in slow, tight circles. Seeking stability, she pressed her palms to the smooth wood desktop.

  One of his large shoe-clad feet pushed between her high heels and nudged, gently, until she stood with her feet shoulder-width apart.

  She trembled in anticipation of his touch.

  Beneath the tiny string of her thong, his hand stole lower, between her legs, until his fingers feathered along her slit. Her sharp gasp morphed into a needy moan.

  He explored her, circling and massaging, but not touching, never touching, the place where she most ached.

  She arched her back and wiggled her hips in a slow circle, chasing his touch while his hot mouth suckled the side of her neck. Her moans grew desperate and he soothed her by whispering soft nonsense into her ear.

  Still, he evaded her swollen core.

  His hardness pressed into her bottom and she wriggled to fit herself more snugly against him.

  “I can’t,” he croaked. “I don’t have a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill.” Relief rushed through her that she’d made the brash decision to ask the doctor for a prescription. “And I haven’t been w-with anyone else in a long time.”

  Turning her, he cupped her face with both of his hands. Green eyes pierced her. “Neither have I.” His mouth brushed over hers in a soft, lingering kiss. “Thank you.”

  A tangle of emotions surged and clogged in the back of her throat. In that moment, the thought came to her that she could love him forever.

  Cool wood struck her bare bottom when he lifted her onto the desk.

  He eased her down. Standing between her parted thighs, he watched her with suddenly hooded eyes as he gently pushed her skirts above her waist.

  His palm pressed to the soft swell of her abdomen. With his other hand, he hooked a finger around the crotch of her panties and tugged them aside. The tip of his finger stroked her.

  Sensation pulsated between her legs. She threw her head back. Color burst behind her eyes when the heavy slide of his fingers coaxed the first ripples of her orgasm.

  She felt his hands between their bodies as he freed himself. His solid warmth brushed her opening and she whimpered with wonder. It was really going to happen. Luke Nolan was going to make love to her.

  This time, he wouldn’t regret it.

  Thoughts splintered when his shaft teased at her entrance. He dropped his head to her shoulder when he pushed inside her and her awareness narrowed to the slide of pleasure his body wrought from hers.

  “Jesus, Em, you’re so tight.” He gripped her hips and pressed deeper.

  Her body swallowed more of him, and his fingers stroked a sensitive spot. A cry tore from her throat.

  Cast out to sea, she clutched at him while he pumped into her with long, languid strokes. In the quiet room, the sound of her slick wetness mingled with their labored breathing.

  The world fell away. There were no people on the other side of the door. No large windows through which they might be discovered. No spiral notebook poking into her backside.

  There was only Luke, and the exquisite, excruciating pleasure of his touch.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t wait—”

  His muscles bunched beneath her hands and he thrust into her with fierce desperation. With his release, he groaned her name into the side of her neck. His teeth scraped over her hypersensitive skin. Her orgasm screamed through her, beautiful and dangerous, like a comet streaking across the night sky.

  After, she listened to the sound of his pounding heart while faint tremors eddied through her body.

  Rising up on his elbows, he peered down into her face. He brushed a strand of her hair off her temple. “You okay?”

  She nodded.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Thoughts. She should have some, but as she gazed up into his flawless face, only a lone, inappropriate thought crystallized. “When can we do that again?”

  A surprised, helpless laugh rattled in his chest and he pressed his forehead to hers. “The second I can go again.” His lips brushed hers. “I promise.”

  Oh, my. She would definitely love him forever.

  A soft knock sounded on the library door.

  He pushed off her and she bolted upright. Still standing between her legs, he smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and fastened his tuxedo pants, but he didn’t retreat.

  His hand slipped beneath her hair and he pulled her to him. His mouth met hers in a whisper-soft kiss. He dawdled, taking small nips at the corner of her mouth, as if no one waited on the other side of the door.

  Finally, he left her and crossed the room. He opened the door a tiny fraction of a crack.

  “Is Emily with you?” She recognized Noah’s voice.

  “She is.” The possessive edge in Luke’s tone sent a shiver rippling through her.

  “Now that she’s family, I have to ask—do I have any reason to kick your ass?”

  Luke held his body rigid. “Not one.”

  “Oh, good.” Noah’s tone lightened. “Then there’s someone here looking for a room. She says she has a reservation.”

  Emily placed a hand on Luke’s elbow and he stepped back to allow her to pass.

  Noah took one look at her and shot Luke an exasperated look. The color heightened on Luke’s cheeks, though his expression turned roguish rather than remorseful.

  “All the rooms are reserved for the night with w-wedding guests.” Emily entered the hall. “Is she one of the guests?”

  “She’s not one of the guests.” Noah motioned to the end of the hall, where a woman stood waiting in the foyer.

  While Noah headed back to the ballroom, Emily moved toward her. Luke followed a step behind.

  “M-may I help you?”


  The woman wore her dark hair pulled back in an unruly ponytail and heavy horn-rimmed glasses obscured her dark eyes. “I hope so. I’m here to check in.” She had a subtle southern accent, as one who’d grown up in the Deep South but hadn’t returned home in many years.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have any rooms available tonight.”

  The woman frowned. “Are you sure? Max Foley was supposed to book a room for me.”

  Emily stepped aside as the Mayor of Thief Island passed through the foyer on his way to the front door.

  “M-Max? Are you with the film crew?”

  “That’s right. I’m Honey Breedlove.”

  Drew slid to a stop and pivoted. His pale gaze lighted on Honey. “Excuse me, did you say Honey Breedlove?”

  Honey eyed him.

  “You aren’t supposed to be here for two days. M-Max said M-Monday.”

  Drew took Honey’s hand and, lifting it to his mouth, pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “To what do we owe the honor of your presence on our little island?”

  At her side, Emily sensed Luke’s rigid alertness.

  “Well, aren’t you a sexy ass-kisser,” Honey cooed.

  “I’ve been known to kiss women in all sorts of interesting places.”

  Honey rolled her eyes and pulled her hand from Drew’s grasp. She turned back to Emily. “Is there any chance you can make room for me tonight? I’ll sleep on a couch or the floor. Anything’s better than my car.”

  Emily hesitated. She couldn’t kick her out with no place to stay in a strange town. The last ferry had run for the night. “Of course. I’m sure I can find something….”

  Honey’s smile was bright and warm. “Thanks. I owe you.” Then she turned on Drew, her gaze sliding over him with such heat Emily felt the blast of radiation. “I’m going to go grab my bag. You’ll be here when I get back?”

  A slow smile curled Drew’s lips. “I’ll be here.”

  Honey disappeared through the front door and Drew leaned into the doorjamb, watching her retreat.

  Then he regarded Emily with glinting light eyes. “So tell me, why is a porn star staying at your inn?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  A strenuous swallow worked Emily’s throat, but just then, the ballroom door banged open, depriving Luke of her reply.