Willows, Jennifer - Bound by Accident [Moreland Brothers 1] (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Jennifer Willows

  Soon, he told himself, knowing he would take her like she had never been taken before while also giving parts of his heart that had never taken or touched another woman before her.

  But there was at least time for this. Leaning over her, he touched her face, cupping her chin. She blinked at him owlishly, now fully aware, and he swooped in. Crushing her lips, he sucked the lower lip she presented him with. Tongues dueling, he mated her mouth, possessing each breath she took. Hands roaming, he cupped her soft breasts, thumbs rocking the nipples. The tender flesh erect under his hand put precious stones to shame in both hardness and beauty. She keened into his mouth, seeking him. He responded with a lowered hand resting on top of her pelvis, inches shy of where she wept for him. Shifting her down his lap, Charyn rocked his leg. The well-placed knee crumbled her defenses. The pressure of the hand at her lower belly forced something more from her.

  “Tell me you need to come. Say, ‘sir, I need to come.’”

  Makenzie’s response was both immediate and held urgency. “Please, sir, I need to come.”

  “As you wish.”

  Charyn worked in earnest, rocking his knee under her mound.

  “That’s it, take it. Take what I want to give you.”

  “Oh yes, sir.”

  “Mmmm…”

  Satisfied with her surrender, he captured more of her, overwhelming her mouth with the strength of his passion. Charyn saw the peak claim her, taking her away and back, panting his name with each breath.

  “That’s a good girl.” He soothed her with skimming hands and kisses, anywhere within reach.

  “What about you?” How sweet of her to ask. But it would take much more of her than fifteen minutes before he was remotely satisfied.

  “I knew when we started there wouldn’t be time for me. That can come later.”

  Makenzie just looked up at the ceiling, perplexed, still shuddering from the peak he gifted her with.

  Moments later, the front door opened with quiet snick, warm breeze circling the more-than-stuffy room. Her passion-glazed eyes met his, and held his gaze.

  “So I see ya’ll have had that talk I recommended.” Charli stood at the door, grinning.

  Chapter 6:

  Color Me Mad

  Walking to Charli’s half of the duplex took only a moment. Dinner was a lively affair, laughter dished up with the large bowls of curry chicken stewed with varied vegetables for hours and spooned over jasmine rice. Served with garlic naan bread, the meal was delicious. Each of the three was unbuttoning pants by the end, when there was no justice done to the dessert. While tasty, none of them had any room left to hold even one more mouthful. Charli brought over after-dinner drinks, snifters of Drambuie and mugs of coffee. She kindly packed Tupperware with the dessert, a strawberry shortcake napoleon, since none of them was able to eat it. Hugs and handshakes went around, and then Mak opened the door, headed for her place.

  For a late-autumn Saturday evening, it was nice out. Autumn breezes flowed gently as Mak crossed the hall to her unit, deciding she would love to sketch the nighttime landscape. Charyn followed her to her door. Walking inside, she bent over, picking up scattered items from the basket. He followed, taking gifts and placing them on the counter to clear the floor. When they were done, Mak looked through her lashes, watching him in motion. Whatever she had to do was worth it. This man was like no other she ever encountered. He was hers, by hook or by crook.

  “When will I see you again?” she asked, deciding to be forthright.

  “Tonight, if you’ll let me, I will stay with you to make sure that you are fine. Tomorrow, I’ll go home for a bit to get some work done, and come back. I want to take you out.”

  “I’m okay with that. I don’t have a spare bed, though.”

  “Unless you have a twin bed, we’re sharing it.”

  Mak felt her jaw drop, mouth open, stunned and stupid.

  “But we just—”

  “I know that as well as, if not better, than you. Tonight we are going to sleep, not make love.”

  “Or fuck?”

  Shaking his head, Charyn replied, “Even when I fuck you, we’ll be making love. It’ll just be dirty, sweaty, hard, and fast.” She knew he watched her response to his words, her quickening breath, lip biting, and heated cheeks.

  “You always have me at a disadvantage, it seems.”

  “Not true, I was the perv with a hard-on at the scene of an accident. It’s your fault, Makenzie. This is just karma.”

  “No way, I don’t believe it. You were too cool when I saw you.”

  “Yes, I was. When I ran to your car, you had lost consciousness. Your lips were so soft looking I needed to kiss them, and had to clench my fists to keep from touching you. I lost control of my cock when you opened your eyes and looked at me. I knew I was staring you down, but I couldn’t stop.”

  “I thought it was just me.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Is there anything you need? As you’re staying the night, will you need any clothes? I have a pair of shorts and T-shirt that may fit you.”

  “I’d rather not wear another man’s castoffs, if you don’t mind.”

  Lips tilted upward, Mak admonished Charyn, saying, “I take offense to that statement. I’m not a man.”

  “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I knew this moustache made me look extramasculine.”

  Deadpan, Charyn replied, “Actually it’s doesn’t. It was the beard that gave you away.”

  Rubbing her chin, she laughed. “Can’t put nuffin past you, huh?”

  “Better and worse have tried.”

  Laughing harder, she wiped her eyes, rubbing each with a palm.

  “I’m going outside for a bit. If you would like your own nightclothes and a change for tomorrow, you can go home and come back.” Walking behind her, Charyn hugged her close.

  “Actually,” he whispered in her ear as he leaned down to her,” I sleep in my birthday suit.”

  “Not in my bed, you won’t. Getting nasty man juices on my bed, hairy toes with crusty nails scraping up my nice sheets…Uh-uh, don’t make that face.”

  “I’ll have you know I don’t have nasty feet, and the only nasty juices in the bed will belong to you. All of mine are gonna be in here.” With that, he cupped the zipper of her jeans and toed his shoes and socks off.

  “See, they are manicured and everything.”

  Smiling at him, Mak looked down, shocked.

  Damn, even his feet are sexy, Makenzie thought, looking at the large male foot slightly back and to the side of hers. Clean, close-cut toenails framed a well-proportioned foot, sized to match the rest of him.

  “Thank you,” he replied to Mak’s offhand statement.

  “I said that out loud?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Smacking herself in the forehead, she said, “Okay, now that I’ve embarrassed myself, how about you move over there?”

  Pushing him away, she moved back a few paces, but it only made the problem worse. She was so drawn to him it didn’t matter where he was. He could look at her from across a room and her knees were just as weak as they would be if he was next to her. She blinked her vision clear, drinking in the sight of him. Her senses were overwhelmed by him in every way, even down to his scent and his voice. She wanted another taste of him, her drug of choice, so tasty she licked her lips. He walked to her side, pushing her to the sliding door.

  “You said you wanted to go outside.” Voice husky, he drew her toward the back door, and she saw dusk approaching. Mak’s hand itched, and she remembered.

  “Duh! Be back.”

  Quick stepping to the makeshift studio, she took a few things, some paper, Cray-Pas, pencils, and an eraser. Switching her clothes for a loose tunic and tights took just another minute. She just left the discarded clothes where they lay and dashed out. Looking through the sliding glass, she saw the object of her desires. Seated on one of the peacock-blue deck chairs, he apparently was busy with his phone, sendi
ng a text message. She sat down across from him, facing the west. The sketch went by quickly, and it felt as if she had just begun when she shaded the last corner of the page.

  When finished, she stood up, arching her back into a deep stretch. Charyn stood with her, taking up the Cray-Pas, erasers, pencils, and sketch pad.

  Mak was the first to break the silence. “If it’s all right with you, we can watch a movie.”

  “Are you going to finish the sketch you started?”

  “This part is done. I just like sketching the sunsets, but normally I don’t paint them.”

  “Can I see your sketches, paintings?”

  “Sure…everything’s just through here in the spare bedroom. That’s why I didn’t have an extra bed to offer you.”

  “Make no mistake, Makenzie. Even if you had a million beds, the only one I’m sleeping in will be with you.”

  Mouth dry, Mak lead Charyn through the hall to her “studio.” When she opened the door, she remembered the clothes she left on the floor. Panties included. Dodging in the door past Charyn’s large frame took finesse, but she did it. Sweeping the garments up in one stroke was harder, and she did that too. What she didn’t account for was him actually calling her on it.

  “What’s that, Mak, your clothes? Here, let me help you.” Smiling, he leaned forward, crowding her. She squeaked and jumped back, dropping the bundle she worked so hard for. He caught it, face smug. Taking the items, he looked at them, breaking a toothy smile. “I see somebody is free-balling in this room.” Charyn cocked a brow in her direction.

  Mak replied, “I am not!” She was huffing, embarrassed as hell.

  “Who said anything about you? But I already knew you didn’t have any on.”

  “How?”

  “The way you walked, and no panty lines. Best believe me, I looked.”

  Face heated, Makenzie sputtered, “You can kick rocks with Jesus sandals, Charyn.”

  She noted and appreciated that he gave her a moment to calm down. No talking, just hypnotic silence. Finally, Makenzie felt the heat leave her face and she relaxed. Her next words were meant to show him she was past the heat of anger, but still didn’t appreciate the way he goaded her in her own home.

  “Since we’re here, you may as well look.”

  * * * *

  When Makenzie took him in her studio, Charyn remembered the concentration on her face as he watched her work. At first she would sketch using the pencil in her right hand, occasionally tapping the paper with a fat white eraser in her left. As the time passed by, he unabashedly went from covert peeks to outright staring. He saw her hands moved almost independently, working opposite the other, though they had the same goal. At that moment he was gone, mind lost in her work, even losing track of time. Through the entire still-life sketch, Makenzie bobbed slightly or swayed, depending on what song she was hearing.

  Enthralled with watching her hands dance over the paper, Charyn found he was impressed by the detail the half-finished work showed. The charcoal gray of the pencil drawing was complex and no detail was left out. He could distinguish the fading rays of sunlight. There was even a spiderweb in the tree across the yard in the picture. She was a really good artist, with an impeccable eye and the ability to make the most mundane of life appear on paper as the most exquisite works of art. He had seen many sunsets in his life, but never with the same view Makenzie had revealed in the sketch.

  Bringing himself to the here and now, Charyn saw as Makenzie pointed to the opposite wall, and he turned to get a better look. The spring-green wall was covered floor to ceiling with canvases of varying sizes. The smallest was in the very center of the wall, no bigger than a large floor tile. The largest was short, maybe only a foot tall, but fully spanned the length of the room. The paintings were of every subject matter. There were people, trees, abstract slashes through paint spatters, still-life subjects. Amazed at the depth the smallest one contained, he concentrated, staring. The painting, done in watercolor, was stunning. What he saw changed depending on his angle of approach. When he was straight on, he saw a window with curtains. But when he looked at it from the corner of his eye, he saw more. Swearing he was seeing things, he asked, “Is that a couple making love in this picture, Makenzie?”

  “Yep.”

  “I like it.”

  “Thanks, it’s my favorite, too.”

  “You are incredibly talented. If this is what you have here, then what you’ve sold must be amazing.”

  Eyes lowered, Mak said, “I haven’t sold anything.”

  “Why not? People would pay good money for this.”

  “I just haven’t, that’s all.” Face stern, she closed the subject.

  “Makenzie, we haven’t known each other very long, but what I’ve seen shows me you are not a coward. We can table it for now, but it will come back up.”

  “I’m not a coward.” Charyn knew that he’d made her angry again, as her heated response was an angry volley punted back at him.

  Mak crossed her arms and led him out of the room. Taking the worn clothes, she put them in the bathroom hamper. Before she left, Makenzie handed him the remote, tone brusque. “I’m going across the hall to see Charli. Be back.”

  From the look of it, he was in the doghouse. Charyn knew he better do something nice enough to keep her from kicking him out tonight. Otherwise he was going to be bunking down in the Hummer instead of Makenzie’s bed, and that was not in his plans this evening. If he had it his way, he wouldn’t be sleeping anywhere else on other nights, either.

  Chapter 7:

  Break Up to Make Up

  Makenzie strutted across the hall, so angry her head was leading her body. When she knocked at the door, Charli pulled it open quickly, so fast that she half fell in the door.

  “What happened? Girl, did he hurt you? Imma mess that fool up!” Charli grabbed her keychain Mace and began to take off her earrings, discarding them on her countertop.

  She pulled Charli back, saying, “Whoa, hold your horses. It wasn’t like that.”

  “Then what was it like? You came through madder than rattlesnake spit, knocking like five-o.” After closing the door, they both sat down on the couch. Picking up the joint smoldering in the ashtray, Charli toked twice. Looking at Makenzie, she offered it. “You still on the wagon?”

  Taking the blunt, she told her, “Not tonight, I’m not.”

  By the time they finished the illegal cigarette, both were geeked, laughing at nothing.

  “So you gonna tell me what happened back there? You and the hunky Mr. December were doing good last time I saw. He was eyeing you something fierce. I saw you both outside. So I know he wants your business, boo.”

  “Yeah, and he told me basically that I was a coward.”

  “Stop the bus, for what?”

  Both ladies munched hard on some chips and salsa, and Mak told her what happened, starting from the beginning. She told her about the accident, how it happened from her perspective. The trip to the hospital, followed by kisses and her touching herself, the orgasms, everything. By the time the tale was finished, they had polished off a bottle of Madeira and smoked another joint. When she told her about their fight, Charli’s response shocked her.

  “He’s right, you know,” Charli said through a Cheshire Cat grin.

  “You aren’t supposed to say that. It’s against the girlfriend code or something.”

  “You are the furthest thing from a coward, but with the way you’ve been acting around him…I’ve never seen you run from a tough situation, Mak. You know this has been an issue for a hot minute. Your paintings are wonderful. If not, then why have I half wallpapered my house in Makenzie originals? As much as I love you, I wouldn’t have placed anything subpar in my sanctuary, boo. You were upset for no reason, girl. The man doesn’t give a damn where your drawers are at. He wants what’s in them.”

  “But I just don’t—”

  “Don’t what? Want him to know you are a closet slob? That you wear panties? You lucky he ain’t lef
t, high ass.” Giggling, she continued, “Do you even know how he looks at you? That man stares at you so hard that he’s either crazy or half in love. Like you have the last breath he’s gonna take inside. I watched ya’ll outside earlier; you, lost as always in your sketching, took about an hour and a half before you even realized he was there. Once he put that phone down, he just saw you. Like he was trying to draw you, too, just in his mind, no paper needed.”

  “I didn’t realize, I just did what—”

  “You always do, I know. That man in there wants you. I saw what was in that basket, just like you did. Some of the items were specific as hell, a bottle of Ciroc, and Beviamo? That sounds to me like he replaced the ones that broke in the accident. The Godiva, I know you had a wrapper in the dashboard from when you had a PMS craving. The rest is the swag he talking about. Homeboy must have a great nine-to-five to get them high-ass muffins and tablet, though.”

  “But what he wants from me is the question, Charli. We just met one day ago. Maybe he just wants some strange. For all I know, he’s got jungle fever.”

  Charli fell out the chair, laughing so hard tears rolled down her face.

  “Jungle fever, ’cause we’re in love!” Charli sang out. “Hell no, boo, black pussy stopped being strange ’bout ten years ago. Betta step to the plate with somethin’ more logical than that.”

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ll stop reaching. But you don’t get it.”

  “Well, then make me.”

  “He could destroy me. I’ve never in my life felt so connected to another person, like I knew him before I knew he existed. When I saw him, I didn’t see anything else. I was in a wrecked car, and I forgot everything when I saw his eyes. I felt…captured. Like he took me somewhere else, someplace just the two of us could go. I don’t want him to break my heart. If I’m feeling him so deeply now after one day, then what about later? The inevitable handful of days, weeks, or months together, if he gives us that long. What about the end? I would rather not look up and see him walk away, and end up broken.”