by Meg Maguire
A few paces of ahead of her on the lawn, Colin clapped Reece on the back. “He gets to be pissed, mate. But thanks.”
Reece didn’t reply, and no one spoke for the rest of the time it took to drive back to Kaiwharawhara.
As they entered the flat, Reece tossed his keys on the coffee table then went straight to the kitchen. Libby heard him crack open a beer before walking back through the living room to the other end of the apartment, closing his bedroom door roughly behind him. So much for the kissing lesson she’d been hoping for. She turned to the couch, where Colin was unlacing his shoes, looking rattled.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I will be, thanks. Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine.”
She followed as he walked to his room and slipped off his jacket. He tossed it on his bed and ran his palms over his face.
Libby leaned against the doorframe. “Can I ask what that was about?”
He stared at the floor. “It’s an old, ugly story.”
“That guy said some pretty horrible things.”
“Yeah, well…he hates me. It’s okay. We used to be mates before we had a falling out, years ago, over a girl. It got real nasty and complicated. I’d hate me too, if I was him.” He let out a loaded breath.
“I can’t imagine what could be worth getting that bent out of shape over.”
“There are things,” he murmured. “I’m sorry that had to happen when you were around, anyhow.”
“It’s fine,” she repeated. “Is there anything I can do?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, though. It’s an old wound. It’ll scab over quick.”
“Well, you certainly are popular, at least.”
Colin raised his head to give her a withering look.
“I mean with everyone else.” Hoping to distract him away from the uglier moments of the evening, she asked, “Talk to any girls you liked, tonight?”
Colin’s smile tightened, and he looked down a moment before meeting her eyes again. “Only the one.”
Libby felt herself blanch.
He caught it and smiled again, this time for real. He stepped over and clapped her on the shoulder, seeming pleased to have made her uncomfortable. “Sleep tight, kiddo.”
Libby grimaced, ashamed that her embarrassment had shown. Jesus, why did the wrong brother always seem to have the right answers?
They said their good-nights, and she closed Colin’s door behind her. She turned and was surprised to find Reece standing in kitchen. She guessed he’d heard their conversation. He swallowed the last of his beer and tossed the can in the recycling bin by the stove.
“What about you?” Libby asked him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sounded calmer, and kind again. He poured a glass of water from the fridge filter and gave Libby a pat on the back as he passed, heading to his side of the flat.
“What was that for?”
Reece didn’t turn around. “Dunno. Just thanks for checking on him.”
“Sure.”
“G’night, Libby,” he said quietly and shut his bedroom door.
Chapter Eight
Reece dragged his lips down Libby’s neck from her ear to her collarbone, his hot breath blazing then inviting a chill in its wake. His hand held her jaw, tongue flicking against her skin to ignite the pulse between her legs.
God, what this man could do. And thank goodness he didn’t know it.
It was early evening, the day after the ill-fated party. Libby had managed to wrangle another lesson out of her reluctant instructor following a surveillance outing downtown. She was trying her damnedest to get taken advantage of on the ratty old couch, and so far, she was succeeding.
“Is this doing anything for you?” Reece whispered against her throat.
“It’s very nice,” she lied. It was so much more than nice.
She melted back into the moment as Reece went to work kissing the crook where her neck met her shoulder. She wanted him to do this to every last square inch of her skin. His tongue flirted its way up her throat, and he took her earlobe gently between his teeth. Libby’s breath hitched, and he pulled away, fixing her with his icy eyes.
“You okay? Did that freak you out?”
“No, that was sexy. You’re doing awesome. You worry too much.”
“I know you had a rough time before—”
“I’m not a rape victim, Nolan.”
“No, I’m…I’m just trying to be a good bloke, okay?”
“Just be a good teacher. That’s your job.”
Reece let loose one of his nose-breaths, composing himself. “More of this?”
“Yes, please. It’s very sexy. You can be more sexy, if you want.”
“You’re the boss.”
He started back at her mouth, teasing her into a secret frenzy.
“More sexy,” she coaxed.
“I have your blessing on that?”
“Oh, yes. Sex it up.”
Libby got more than she bargained for as Reece swung his leg over to straddle her lap. He kept their groins safely separated, but when his mouth sought her neck once more she sensed the shift in the mood of this lesson. Though still the picture of measured self-control, he gave her a new intensity. His touch turned possessive and erotic, yet there was always that invisible barrier keeping him unmistakably off-limits. Still, all these sensations without even going past second base.
“Are you giving me hickeys?” she asked in a condemningly breathy voice as Reece ravaged her neck.
“No, Libby. That’s a pretty tacky thing for even a teenager to do.”
“Darn.” She’d have liked a souvenir, something to mark her as Reece’s territory. “Let me do you now.”
He slid from her lap, and she knelt beside him. Placing a hand on each of his shoulders, she kissed his jaw. She mimicked all the moves he’d demonstrated, interested by the mildly chemical taste of his aftershave as her tongue grazed his skin.
“You should make some sexy noises or something,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Pretend you’re into this. Make it believable.”
“If you insist.”
“Oh, I do.” Libby tossed herself onto his lap, her knees digging into the cracks between the couch cushions and bringing their crotches provocatively close. Reece made a noise that sounded like an extremely authentic imitation of excitement. She kissed his neck and ear and the bonus bits of skin she could reach by tugging down the collar of his shirt. He repaid her with his sounds—soft grunts and moans and ragged sighs. She slid her hands down his arms, exploring the hard muscles she’d watched him earning the previous evening in the studio.
“Libby.”
She spoke against his throat. “Yeah, lover?”
“I want you to know I’m getting turned on. I know that’s not what this is supposed to be about.”
She ran her tongue up his jugular vein. “Like fun it’s not.”
“Excuse me?”
She laughed. “Jesus, you’re such a prude—”
He grasped her hips and shifted her onto the adjacent cushion.
“What the hell?”
He ran a hand over his flushed face. “You made the rules very clear, Libby—this is your experiment. I’m just trying to be a good guy. I signed up for what you said this would be, and now it’s getting blurry.”
She rolled her eyes, hoping to mask her genuine disappointment. “You are such a prude.”
“With you, yeah. You’re not my girlfriend,” Reece said. “We’re not lovers. I don’t want us to be that way.”
“What would you do if we were?” Libby asked, raising an eyebrow. “Lovers?”
“Run the other way.”
“No, really, what would you do?”
“Everything,” Reece said, impatient. “Rut you silly the second you asked me to.”
Damn. “Is that what you’d like to do?”
“No, Libby. I’m the one straight guy in the entire world who i
sn’t lying about my motives because I secretly want to bone you.” Sadly, he wasn’t being sarcastic. “I’m a decent bloke, and I should never have agreed to this ridiculous arrangement. It’s fucking with my head now… Can we just watch a movie or something?”
“Fine.” Libby scooted to the far cushion, pouting openly. She clicked on the television and settled on a trashy thriller movie. Her body cooled along with her good mood. After a few minutes, she glanced over at Reece to see if her choice was provoking him the way she’d intended. He looked obnoxiously placid.
“Why don’t we redo the rules?” she asked, affecting a casual air.
Reece’s gaze flicked to her end of the couch, distrustful. “Pardon?”
“Let’s change the rules. You’re right, I can’t ask you to be a saint about all of this.” Especially when I like the alternative so much more. “New rule.” She sat up officiously. “Amendment.”
Reece raised a pair of skeptical eyebrows.
“You’re allowed to get turned on, as long as it’s unintentional.”
“Wow, thanks Libby.”
She smirked. “Not a problem.”
Reece rubbed a hand over his chin. “You can’t ask me to do that.”
“How come?”
“Because of why we’re doing this—the whole premise. You want someone safe. You want to be in charge. Doesn’t my being turned on wreck that?”
“No, I want that.”
He shook his head as if trying to clear it. “You’re giving me incredibly mixed messages.”
“Reece.” It felt weird using his actual name. She turned and let her face express how honest she was prepared to be, how much was riding on his participation. “I haven’t done anything, ever, really—what I have done, I don’t count. I am dying to learn. Everything. With you. Why not try and find that flattering like any normal man would and let me?”
Reece didn’t reply.
“You should be honored,” Libby said.
“I might be if I understood what it is you want.”
“A guinea pig.”
“That’s an honor?” Reece asked.
“A favor?”
“We’ve covered that. God…why don’t you ask someone else to do this? Someone who wants it?”
“Like your brother?” Libby cut back.
Reece’s expression darkened in an instant. “No. That’s the one rule I demanded and you know it. Leave Colin alone.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you dare make that sound like a threat. And don’t try and switch subjects on me. Why don’t you find someone else? Someone who’d gladly do your twisted bidding in a heartbeat?”
“That’s why. I want you, because you don’t want me. Maybe I want to be the one taking advantage of somebody.”
He paused a moment, thinking. “That sounds more honest.”
“Fine then. I want to take advantage of you, okay?” Libby slid closer and looked Reece dead in the eyes. “I want to do things to you, and I want you to do things to me. I want to do all sorts of things with you and then just be friends in the morning.” Her composure faltered on the last bit. “We’re both single, right?”
“Right.”
“And we’re fond of each other, right? You care a little about me.”
“Sure.”
“And nobody’s got romantic expectations, right?” she asked.
“Definitely not.”
Libby felt irked by how immediate and emphatic his reply was, but let it pass in the interest of negotiation. “Perfect, then. So do me this favor. For as long as we’re both single and friends, let me be sexual with you. For science.”
Reece drummed his fingers on his thighs, contemplating.
“Reece…? Please?” The muscles in Libby’s face ached from being this earnest.
“I can’t believe I’m going to agree to this.”
She grinned, relaxing back into the cushions. “Your brother wouldn’t believe you even had to think about your answer for a second.”
“If you breathe a word of this to him—”
“This is just between us,” she said. “I’ll tell him you don’t put out.”
“Don’t tell him anything,” Reece said. “And I want to sleep on this…this little proposal of yours. For the rest of the night, we are strictly normal.”
On Monday afternoon, Libby pushed in the door to the pub a few minutes shy of her appointed rendezvous with Reece. She’d expected to be greeted by Marjorie but to her surprise, Colin was behind the bar. He was hunched over the counter with his head in his hands, staring at an open ledger. He didn’t glance up until she cleared her throat, and when he did she spotted the big, angry bruise on his jaw.
“Oh hey, Libby. Good day?” His expression brightened a tiny bit, though it looked as if smiling was painful for him.
“It’s all right. Better than yours, I’d wager. What happened to you? Did you get in a fight?”
“Accident.” He held up his forearm, wrapped in an Ace bandage from the elbow to the wrist. The skin Libby could still see was red and scraped.
“My God, what kind of accident?”
“Collided with a car,” he said dismissively, as though this happened with some frequency. “Bike’s fine.”
“Jesus, that’s scary. You should be more careful.”
“Will do.” He sounded as if he no intention of doing any such thing. “Can I get you a drink?”
“No thanks, I’m just meeting your brother for another documentation session. Where’s your mom?”
“After I wrecked, they made me take the rest of the day off downtown. I told her to go home and I’d start my shift early.”
“You work too much.”
“These numbers beg to differ,” he said, waving the ledger around. He eyed her beadily. “Don’t suppose you’d like to start paying my brother for sex, in addition to his stalker salary?”
“Chance would be a fine thing,” she murmured. “But I’ll pay you rent for the couch if you want.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“You sure? I don’t mind. I can’t remember the last time I slept on my boat. And I eat your food all the time. I’ve got the money, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” There was unfamiliar bite in Colin’s tone. “Don’t worry about it, Uptown Girl. I was just winding you up.”
“Well, bear me in mind—”
“Forget it, Libby. Why don’t you put something on the jukebox? Get my mind off these bloody books.”
“Sure thing. Have change?”
She handed Colin an orange five-dollar note and slipped another in the tip jar while he dug coins out of the till for her. The jar bore a Post-It reading Colin’s Helmet Fund in what Libby recognized as Reece’s handwriting. The other side had a note as well, typed up in an authoritative font. Please donate today! Help support the Reece Nolan Chronic Impotence Research Foundation.
Colin noticed Libby’s gratuity as soon as he finished counting her change. He tossed the bill at her with an irritated smile. “Your money’s no good here, Prentiss. Not with me, anyway.”
“Fine.” She sighed and strolled to the jukebox. Just to see how far she could push him she put on “Uptown Girl”.
Colin laughed as the song started and shook his head. “You are such a bloody brat.”
Libby danced back over to the bar in a ridiculously exuberant fashion, complete with finger-snaps.
“And you are so rubbish at dancing.” Colin gave in, smiling properly.
“That’s better.” She slid onto a stool across from him and leaned on the bar.
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Can I give you a word of advice?”
“Sure.”
He tapped her wrist with his index finger as he assembled his thoughts. “You be careful with that sort of talk. About money. Around Reece, I mean. And around me. A bloke doesn’t like having it implied that he can’t take care of his family.”
Libby started. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“Just b
e careful,” Colin repeated, seeming ready to drop the subject. After a few moments he smiled again and sang hammily along to Libby for the remainder of the song.
Reece arrived just as “The Longest Time” started, and he too looked surprised by who was tending bar. Libby’s heart gave a familiar jolt as he joined them.
“Gidday, guys?” He set his gym bag down and took a seat on the stool next to Libby, bringing with him the faint and pleasurable scent of his perspiration. He nodded at his brother. “You’re a wreck, Col.”
“Got doored.”
“Again? Well, you’ve got me beat.” He tilted his chin up to show a bruise of his own, red now but promising to turn nastier. “Yellow belt got me in the face with a very poor back-fist.”
“Cute. I’ll trade you.” Colin sounded tired again.
Reece turned to Libby. “Ready to go?”
She nodded and stood, zipping up her jacket.
“You coming back later?” Colin asked her.
She glanced at Reece. Earlier resistance aside, she felt her chances at another kissing session were looking good—Reece was softening by the day. Whoever said that thing about familiarity breeding contempt had it wrong, and Libby would happily settle for the tolerance she seemed to be earning.
“Yeah,” she said, practically tasting his mouth already. “Plus I was going to beg to do my laundry here tomorrow.”
“I’m around in the morning, so feel free,” Colin said.
“Cool, thanks.” She rode a little wave of relief. Another night here, another chance to be with Reece. Time to turn on the old charm and sincerity again. She hoped her face was up to the strain.
As the door swung shut behind Libby and his brother, Colin rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. It wasn’t directed at them, but himself. He blew out a long breath and shook his head, jaw protesting the motion.
It was going to be a long shift. Thirteen hours was bad enough on its own, to say nothing of facing it after watching Reece leave with…her. Goddamn it, what did he care that Reece was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of Libby’s attention? Hell, he should be happy for him. It was his brother, for heaven’s sake, and they’d never been competitive like that.
