Necessary Lies (Men of Phantom, #1)

by Jacki Renée

  “Relax your toes.”

  “Your legs.”

  “Your knees.”

  “Your thighs.”

  “Your hips.”

  “Your back and stomach.”

  “Your ribs, chest and shoulders.”

  “Your arms, hands and fingers.”

  “Your neck.”

  “Your chin and mouth.”

  “Your nose, eyes and brows.”

  “Your face.”

  “Listen to my breathing; see if you can match it,” he whispers.

  I listen for each inhale and feel each exhale.

  Inhale, smmmh.

  Exhale, ahhhhh.

  I slow my breathing until we’re functioning as one. My heart beats to his rhythm.

  The thumping sensation starts throughout my body, heading to the same destination.

  Our breathing picks up sensual-speed.

  I experience an ebullient orgasm.

  “That was so hot, Dani. I’ve read about people having an orgasm that way.”

  He shifts; unfamiliar words are spoken against my ear. The deep, masculine tone and inflection are sexy. Steamy. The flow, sultry.

  I concentrate on the vibrations of the words and the emotion behind them. Just the thought of what he’s saying gives me a naughty orgasm.

  Bryan scoots down my body.

  His sensual breeze heats the path until he’s there, his shoulders pressing my thighs wide open.

  “You’re so wet,” he says with humor.

  He kisses my southern lips. A sweet, soft peck. His finger slides in, rubbing the roof of Sunshine.

  Something starts to happen right away. My instinct is to close my legs, but his shoulders are in the way.

  “Relax. Enjoy it. Don’t fight.” His voice sounds far away.

  The constant contact of his tongue brushing the hood of my clitoris keeps me climbing.

  What’s happening?

  I pull against the silk scarves.

  My shoulders leave the bed.

  Abs crunch.

  Slowly my fingers capture the atmosphere in a tight grip.

  My toes curl as my body shakes.

  I stop breathing.

  The pot top flies off.

  SA geyser shoots out of me for a tidal wave of an orgasm.

  Bryan hums his approval.

  My shoulders drop back onto the bed. Body unresponsive. Brain foggy.

  I vaguely acknowledge him entering me.

  He lifts my leg, hooking it around his hip, drawing circles within my center, stroking that bundle of nerves inside me.

  “Come on, give me number eleven,” he chants.

  “I can’t.” Unable to coax movement from my hips.

  “Give it to me.” His fingers brush my scorching clitoris. My hips buck, shocked by a volt of electricity.

  Renewed, I match him thrust for thrust. Circle for Circle. He elevates me into an extraordinary eleventh orgasm.

  Bryan thrusts faster and harder, his own release imminent.

  I pull my knees up, locking my ankles in the center of his back. The headboard taps out the pace.

  He growls, somehow freeing my wrists without losing his rhythm.

  Bryan pulls me up with him, sitting me on his lap.

  With each upward thrust, he brings me down on him. I clench my walls to grip him as tight as I can.

  His body tenses. A low rumble comes from his chest, growing louder. Every contraction of his release is felt in the depths of my sex. He’s holding me tight. I continue to clench and release around him, milking him for every drop.

  We collapse on the bed, both breathing hard. I welcome the weight of him on top of me.

  “Do you think anyone heard us?” I kiss his shoulder.

  His chuckle resonates through me. “I’m sure they heard us across the state of Colorado.”

  “If I could lift my arms right now I’d punch you.”

  Bryan climbs off me. I reach up, removing the silk scarf to watch him walk into the bathroom.

  I love looking at the tattoo of a hawk on his back. Its wings span from one shoulder to the other. The scratches aren’t red anymore.

  I hear water running in the bathtub. He passes the bathroom door several times, moving around.

  Bryan walks back into the room. My gaze meanders across his strong shoulders, chest, and defined abs.

  My second favorite part of his body is now deflated and hanging from a trimmed nest of pubic hairs, flopping side to side with each step he takes.

  My favorite part of his body are those muscular thighs and long muscular legs. He is Mr. Tall-And-Sexy.

  “What are you smiling at?” he asks.

  “You.” I smirk. “Where do you work out? I want to watch.”

  “I have a gym at work and one off the garage. Willis put your Vin dummy in there.”

  Scooping me up in his arms, he carries me into the bathroom and helps me into the lavender-scented water.

  He lit white candles.

  “I’ll be right back,” he tells me and goes in the room.

  Returning with a bottle of champagne and two flutes, he hands me a glass. Bryan fills my flute first, then his, and climbs in behind me. He sets the bottle on the floor beside the tub.

  Ting.

  Bryan taps his glass against mine. “Happy New Year, Dani.”

  “Happy New Year.”

  I sip the sweet champagne.

  “What language were you speaking?”

  “Arabic.”

  “What were you saying?”

  “I’m so happy to have you in my life. You’re the only woman I desire. I want to give you new experiences, mentally, physically, emotionally, and sexually. I will always treasure you.”

  I lift his hand to my lips, kissing his knuckles. “How long have you had those arrows on your ribcage?”

  “Four years?”

  “What do they stand for?”

  “My baby girl.”

  Over my shoulder, I gaze at him. The sadness in his eyes can’t be missed. His lips peck the tip of my nose.

  We sit in mutual silence.

  I take a deep breath hating to kill the mood, but I need to ask. “Bry. Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  He exhales.

  I wait for him to say something. I try again. “You overreacted to the fireworks. Please tell why.”

  “Those jerks put our house in jeopardy.” He nibbles on my ear.

  I move away from him so he can’t distract me from this conversation.

  “It’s winter, Bryan. Would the trees really have caught fire?”

  “With the right kind of accelerant, yes, trees can burn even during a Colorado winter. I’ve seen all kinds of things happen year-round.”

  “Are we safe? Kourtney and I. Are we safe here in Colorado with you?”

  “You guys are always safe with me.”

  I stare into his eyes. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “I have no reason to lie to you, baby.”

  He had me up until he called me baby. I’m not going to press him for answers now, but we will finish this conversation later.

  Bryan reaches for me and I move back into his embrace. His arms tighten around me as I relax against him, sipping champagne.

  ***

  I wake up with my head on a pillow, naked underneath the warm covers. Bryan changed the comforter.

  It’s almost three in the morning and he isn’t in the room. The lights are off in the bathroom. I don’t remember falling asleep.

  I roll out of bed, put on my robe, and leave the room to check on the girls.

  The house is too quiet and all the lights are off. Usually the track lighting that runs along the baseboard of the wall from one side of the upstairs to the other is on. Bryan said he installed it so Emma could always find her way to his room in the middle of the night.

  Trevor lifts his head when I open Kourtney’s door. He’s lying at the foot of the bed.

  The girls fell asleep with the
lamp on and Mr. Cuddles between them.

  “Watch over them, Trevor,” I whisper patting his head.

  On my way out of the room, Bryan meets me at the door. He’s dressed in black cargo pants, black turtleneck, and wearing black military-style boots.

  “What are you doing up?” I ask.

  “Checking on things.”

  I hear footsteps and voices coming from downstairs.

  “Who’s here?”

  “Tony. Vin. And Ig. Go back to bed, Danielle,” he commands.

  I take a second to absorb the way he’s dressed, his posture, and short answers. Bryan is in alpha mode. Now definitely isn’t the time to challenge him. I nod and walk by. A quick glance back and I see the gun holstered in the center of his back.

  Yeah, we’re safe with you, but now, I’m convinced something’s going on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  A small red sore on my ring finger is the source of the ache that wakes me out of my sleep this morning. I remember dreaming of fighting off a pack of dogs. I must have scratched myself in my sleep.

  I get a bandage out of the medicine cabinet.

  Bryan is asleep, lying on his stomach, one arm above his head, the other hugging his pillow with his left hand tucked underneath. The covers slipped down to his hips. I don’t know what time he finally came to bed. I pull the blanket up to his shoulders. He stirs but doesn’t wake or change position.

  I get dressed in the closet, then go down to the utility room to get the carpet sweeper and cleaning supplies, taking them to the family room.

  After the fireworks, everyone went to bed. I thought Vin, Ig, and Tony went home too, until I heard them downstairs. There’s another guest room next to Bryan’s parents and two rooms in the attendants’ quarters off the laundry room.

  I close the doors to the family room so I don’t disturb anyone.

  Each time I pass the picture window, I stop to stare out at the yard. Something’s missing, but I can’t put my finger on it.

  The shards of broken glass from the tree ornaments sparkle in the sunlight. Broom and dustpan in hand, I start to sweep up the pieces. It hits me. I know what’s missing. I stand in the window.

  The small tree is gone. And the snowman Bryan and the girls made the other day. The lawn ornaments are also gone.

  Marie steps out the door of their house. She strolls up the path bundled in her winter coat and scarf. I watch for her reaction to the bare spots in the yard. She looks up and sees me standing in the window. Marie waves. I return the gesture and wait. She doesn’t pause.

  The side door opens.

  Maybe she’ll tell me what’s going on.

  I quickly finish cleaning the family room and go to the kitchen.

  “Do you know what happened to the Christmas tree in the yard?”

  “Willis was up early this morning taking down decorations,” she says, opening the refrigerator.

  “I was up pretty early too. I didn’t see him in the yard.”

  “Were you up before sunrise?”

  I shake my head.

  “Willis is always up and piddling in the yard before sunrise no matter what time he goes to bed.” Her hands are loaded with bell peppers and onions.

  I guess it’s possible that Willis moved the tree, but I don’t think he’d dismantle the snowman without asking the girls first. He knows how much they loved building it with Bryan.

  “Was that the first time someone set off fireworks out by the pond?” I ask.

  “Willis and I usually visit his family for the holidays so I don’t know what went on around here. It wasn’t until Emma was four that Bryan spent Christmas in Boulder. They used to travel then end up in Colorado Springs with his parents. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him happy during the holidays. I know it’s because of you and Miss Kourtney.”

  “Let me put away the cleaning supplies and I’ll help you make breakfast.”

  After returning the cleaning supplies to the closet, I wash my hands, put on an apron, and start chopping the onions and bell peppers for Marie. She’s peeling and cutting potatoes.

  “Now that you and Kourtney are all moved in, are there any changes you want to make?” she asks.

  “This is a big house and I know it’s not easy keeping it clean by yourself. Let’s sit down this weekend and divide the chores.”

  “It’s going to be great having a woman around here. Hopefully you can make Bryan’s room more feminine friendly,” she laughs.

  “I actually love Bryan’s room, but you’re right—it needs a woman’s touch here and there. I won’t make any drastic changes. Yet.” I elbow her. “And I’ll certainly do it little by little so he won’t notice.”

  We laugh. Males can be territorial when it comes to their space. She’s right though, Bryan’s room is very masculine, and subtly adding feminine things will be a challenge. One that I’ll happily take on. We talk about redecorating other parts of the house.

  James would have a mitch-fit whenever I added things to his apartment. Lord help me if I moved or organized his cluttered desk filled with papers, computer equipment, and blank CDs.

  I go to the refrigerator and take out sausage links and bacon. Marie sets two frying pans on the stove and fills a pot with water. I turn on the fire.

  We work well together in the kitchen. It’s been a dream to cook on this six-burner stovetop.

  “Should I do biscuits or toast?”

  “Definitely biscuits. Those buttermilk ones if you have any.”

  The smells in the kitchen make my mouth water and my stomach growl. Last night, I ate a lot. I even tried the asada tacos Ig made with homemade salsa.

  I stand at the counter cracking eggs into a bowl. Marie sets the whisk near me and turns the bacon.

  I tilt the bowl and whip the eggs, staring out the window. In my peripheral, someone dashes through the bare trees. Squinting, I focus. It’s not the guys out in the wooded area; they’re in the family room with the girls and Jessica, watching the parade. Bryan and his parents are closed off in his home office. Could it be Willis?

  I turn my attention back to the eggs, pouring the mixture into the pan. Marie hums as she moves around the kitchen.

  Once I turn off the fire under the pan of scrambled eggs, I leave the kitchen.

  “Breakfast is ready,” I call out, standing in the hallway.

  I help the girls make their plates and get them settled at the table before I put food on mine.

  “Uncle Vinny, did you find out who was lighting those fireworks?” Emma bites into a piece of crispy bacon.

  “No.” He sits across from her after pouring creamer into his coffee.

  “The colors were pretty, but the sounds scared me,” Kourtney says as she spreads jelly on a biscuit. “I hope they don’t come back.”

  “They won’t,” Bryan says, walking into the kitchen behind his parents.

  “The holidays started off rocky and ended with a bang,” Bryan senior jokes, spooning smothered potatoes onto his plate.

  “So, you’re coming back next month?” I ask him. A change in subject is needed.

  “I want to see my granddaughter’s science project. She showed me her notes,” he says spooning grits into a bowl.

  “Bryan and I would love for Kourt to come with Emm for spring break,” Nancy says, sitting next to me, a full plate in front of her.

  “Please, Mommy. I really wanna to go to Colorado Springs.”

  “I’ll give it serious consideration. Spring break isn’t until April.”

  “I can’t believe you’re going back to work tomorrow, Danielle. It’s Thursday,” Bryan senior says.

  “The holidays are hard for some people. I’ve stayed in touch with a few of my patients. They need a face-to-face session. I’m not going in on Friday.”

  “Do you have a full schedule tomorrow?” Jessica asks.

  “No. I have a two-hour break between my morning and afternoon patients.”

  “How about we meet up for lunch?”


  “I would love that. We can go to that Italian place near the hospital.”

  “It’s a date.”

  While I eat breakfast, I watch Bryan and his friends. Without drawing attention to themselves, they check their cell phones often. The only time they engage in the conversation going on at the table is when asked a question. Their replies are short. No emotion behind the inflection. And they offer no further explanation. Nor do they encourage more questions.

  I wonder if I’m the only one who notices Vin isn’t wearing a sling this morning. And they’re all wearing dark colors.

  Before we finish breakfast, Tony, Ig, and Vin excuse themselves from the table and leave.

  “We better get going too. I want to get home before the game comes on,” Bryan senior says. The legs of the chair scrape the floor as he pushes back from the table. He picks up his wife’s dishes along with his and carries them to the sink.

  The rest of us rise from the table. I go with Bryan and the girls to help his parents load up their car. Jessica helps Marie clean the kitchen.

  “I know you didn’t have this much when we came, Nance.” Bryan senior struggles to fit a suitcase in the car.

  “Yes, I did. You forgot how you packed the car.” She bumps my shoulder before hugging the girls.

  “I’m going to miss you, Grandpa,” Kourtney says, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “I’ll miss you too, Kourty. We can video chat anytime you want to talk.”

  “Don’t forget you promised to take us horseback riding.” Emma wraps her arms around him on the other side.

  “There’s a stable not too far from us.” Bryan senior hugs her back, then walks over, wrapping his arms around me. “My son is a happier man with you in his life. My granddaughter is thriving because of you and Kourty. Thank you.” He kisses my cheek.

  My eyes water with tears. Words fail me.

  “Drive safe. Call when you get in,” Bryan says. He shakes his dad’s hand and kisses his mom’s cheek.

  We watch them climb into the car and pull out of the driveway. The girls run to the edge waving goodbye. Trevor barks and jumps.

  “I’m going to the office,” Bryan says. He walks into the garage with his hands in his pocket. I’ve never seen him go to work in casual clothes. A few minutes later, he backs out in my truck.

  Why he’s taking my Range Rover?

  I look back in the direction of Bryan’s parents. They make a right at the stop sign. A heartbeat later, a black SUV pulls away from the curb, heading in the same way.