Got it Bad

by Christi Barth

  Her completely out of character, out of control shock had passed. Delaney chalked it up to a combination of letting herself fall apart to Kellan, his calm logic, and that hypnotic magic created by his tracing her fingers, and raising every tiny, invisible hair on her hand in the process.

  Or maybe it was the aftereffects of Norah’s special tea. If so, the woman should open one of those food trucks and sell it outside prisons and courthouses. She could make a ton of money.

  Although she felt better, Delaney also felt embarrassed. She’d looked to Kellan for the answer, rather than asking him to help her find it.

  Screwing up her face as if a skunk had just sashayed by, Delaney said, “See? I suck at asking for advice, probably because I do it so infrequently. Emily would throw every dollar in her wallet at you if she were here now, just for getting me to break down and do it. She rolls her eyes so often when I insist on making my own decisions, I think they’re permanently sprained.”

  Yup, she’d officially begun babbling. Just when she thought the humiliation couldn’t get any worse . . .

  “Come on. Don’t tighten up again.” Kellan lifted her hand. And then he put her index finger in his mouth, twirled his tongue around it, and sucked it slowly from base to tip. Just as her eyelids fluttered shut, he asked, “Is asking for advice so terrible?”

  The man was such a flirt and he used it to distract her until he pounced in for the kill. So freaking smart and strategic. Her eyes flew back open. “If you’re going to force me to admit it, then, no. And after I mull it over a little bit, I think I will still want to hear your opinion.”

  “Fair enough. We can have the discussion. As long as I’m not handing down a decision that you’d accept without deliberation.”

  “No chance of that, Counselor, I guarantee. Consider it part of the discovery phase of an investigation.” Delaney delved a little deeper, dug around in her psyche for any discomfort, like poking a potentially sore tooth. But that emotional trigger that had always reminded her to stand solely on her own two feet was . . . gone. Her instinct to shun help seemed to have shrunk considerably over the course of their conversation. “I don’t think it’ll make me weak to lean on you, like I always imagined.”

  “Don’t you know? It makes you twice as strong.”

  Like a brace on an injured limb. Interesting. Turn her whole life mantra upside down–interesting. “I may not know what I’m going to do about my dad, but I feel strong enough to figure it out,” she murmured. “Not so gobsmacked, anymore.”

  Delaney stretched her neck up to peek beyond the tree at their back. Still nobody coming down the trail. The off-the-beaten-path-edness of this park was one of the reasons they’d chosen it. Less chance of accidentally running into anyone, even on a holiday weekend. In front of them was a gentle slope down to the creek with lots of undergrowth and ferns and bushes.

  Lots of cover for what she had in mind. She cinched her arms around Kellan and yanked him prone on top of her. Then she rolled, both of them, over and over and over.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Celebrating how strong you make me feel.” She pointed at a cluster of giant tree ferns a few feet to the right. “Scoot over. Nobody will be able to see us behind there.”

  Kellan’s eyebrows shot up to his dark hairline. “Are you suggesting we engage in an act of public indecency?”

  “Very much so.” She pounced on top of him the moment he stopped butt-wriggling into place. Straddling his calves, Delaney unzipped his shorts. “I’m also suggesting we try for a land speed record at this, so as not to push our luck too far.”

  His penis was . . . spectacular in the dappled sunlight. Long and veined, with a drop of pre-cum already glistening at the tip just from anticipation. Only fair, since she was already wet from the mere idea of this, too. With the tip of her index finger, she traced the velvety steel of his shaft. The dichotomy of all that soft hardness made her want it stroked all over her body. For now, however, she’d settle for getting a mouthful of it.

  Delaney stroked again, this time with all of her fingers in a superlight, twisting circular motion. She settled her palm against the head and rubbed for about half a second. Kellan let out a groan.

  “Don’t tease me. If you’re going to blow me, put that pretty mouth around me right now.”

  She absolutely loved hearing the harshness in his command. Loved knowing that she’d provoked his lust, pushed him to insistence already. All wide-eyed innocence, Delaney blinked at him while continue to rub in tiny circles. “I’m just making sure you’re ready. Interested. In the mood.”

  “Let’s be clear. There is never a time I’m not in the mood to have sex with you. Every day, I have to walk around town hiding a half boner because I can’t stop thinking about how good it is when I’m inside you. If you say you’re ready, I’m sure as hell ready.”

  “Well, if we’re having a quickie, you need to be very ready. I think I should just make doubly sure . . .” She reached up, underneath his shirt, and raked her nails lightly from his collarbones, across his nipples, and all the way down his rippling abs. Gratifyingly, goose bumps arose on the thin strip of belly that was exposed by his open shorts.

  And then Delaney took him in her mouth. All at once, practically swallowing his length. Kellan let out a moan that was about eight hundred times too loud for two people hiding in a forest. Biting back a laugh, she let him fall out of her mouth. “None of that. You’ve got to be quiet. Or I won’t climb on top of you.”

  “That’s a solid threat.”

  She wrapped her lips back around just the tip as she swept one hand underneath to cup his balls. To squeeze them in rhythm to the hard sucking. They were tight and hard and hot and she couldn’t wait to feel the hairs on them slapping against her ass.

  One hand grabbed at her head. Kellan got a grip on her ponytail and applied pressure downward. “More, Laney,” he pleaded hoarsely. “Take more of me.”

  Usually he was the one giving the orders. This was a fun change of pace. Could she make him come like this? Her guess was probably, but she wanted the pleasure, too. And was amazed by how blazingly hot she was just from sucking him off. Delaney pulled him deeper, raking her teeth gently with each downward pull of her mouth. Felt all that hardness bucking and jerking against her tongue. It was powerfully arousing.

  “I’ll take all of you,” she promised.

  Hurriedly, Delaney pushed her shorts down and off one foot. It wasn’t worth taking the time to get them around her other sneaker. Because the idea of this quickie was turning her on as much as the heat pouring off Kellan.

  It was like her body wanted her to orgasm immediately and every sense was jacked up to overdrive. She relished the softness of the springy moss beneath her knees. The way the breeze caressed her skin. The damp and earthy mix of scents rolling up from the creek. It was primal and basic and sensual.

  Kellan lifted his hips to shove his shorts halfway down his thighs. And then she pushed down onto him in one long stroke, just like she had with her mouth. Delaney sank onto his penis all the way, until her butt did indeed brush against the wiry soft hairs covering his balls.

  He filled her so completely. Part of her wanted to stay, frozen on top of him, taking it all in. Enjoying the solid feel of connection. Enjoying the sight of that dark line of hair arrowing down his belly to where they touched. Enjoying the look of concentrated bliss that had Kellan’s eyes scrunched shut, and his mouth slightly open.

  Then his eyes flew open and met hers. Delaney could swear an arc of heat, need, desire flew between them before singeing her heart in a brand that, in that instant, she knew would be permanent.

  That whatever happened, that despite the inevitability of their breakup, she would always, always carry Kellan Maguire in her heart.

  The moment fractured as he dug his fingers into her hips. “Ride me, Laney. ’Cause I’m ready when you are. I could come just from looking at you sitting on top of me.”

  “I’ll race you
to the finish,” she said on a breathless laugh. And then she planted her hands on the dirt, canted her body forward, and pumped up and down. Fast. Hard. Kellan helped, his hands guiding her even faster. It was fun. It wasn’t practiced or elaborate or careful. It was just plain hot and fun and exciting. Just like Kellan himself.

  So it took fewer than a dozen strokes before the gathering tidal wave of pleasure crested into a solid wall of heat that flooded through her entire body. Delaney opened her mouth to scream. Kellan arched up, capturing her lips and swallowing her cry with a deep kiss that extended her orgasm as he finished with two violent surges of his hips.

  Their panting couldn’t be muted, however. Delaney collapsed on top of him, her breath labored and fast. And it wasn’t just from the exertion. This was supposed to be a casual forest quickie. Instead, she’d been blindsided by the strength of her emotion, her caring, her connection to this man.

  She was falling in love with Kellan.

  Had fallen already, if truth be told. The way he’d helped her today had pushed her over the edge. There was no turning back, no ignoring these feelings.

  Despite the fact that she couldn’t tell him about this huge new case Flynn had gift wrapped and handed to her about his girlfriend. Despite the fact she’d have to lie and hide things from him as she fielded emails even over the holiday weekend as they were supposed to be enjoying rare downtime.

  Delaney didn’t want to lie to him. She didn’t want to put her job first. She wanted to put Kellan first.

  And that realization was even more dangerous than the threat of them being discovered any second.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kellan did some mental calculations. His cards were crap, with only a possibility of a low two pair. The guy in an actual fucking visor sitting across from him looked like an idiot, but played poker as though they were in a high rollers room in Vegas. Better to fold now and wait for a better hand to suss out his tells.

  Especially since he was playing with Lucien’s money.

  His friend was officially—albeit off the record and definitely off the books—bank rolling him to be a ringer in the monthly poker game. Lucien wanted to be sure the idiot Kellan had caught last month didn’t have a group of similarly inclined-to-cheat friends. Kellan liked the idea of being poker’s version of Robin Hood.

  And it felt kind of good to see some of the guys from the plant. Bandon was too small for him to be one of those tight asses who ignored old colleagues. He’d given his notice almost a month ago. For the past two weeks Kellan had been part-time on dispatch and chipping away at the backlog of paperwork at the sheriff’s department. The rest of his paycheck—which helped tide him over until he got trained and could draw a full-time deputy salary—came from helping out here at the resort.

  So all the cranberry plant guys knew about his new job. Lucien knew, along with a bunch of people at Sunset Shoals. The sheriff knew.

  It was only Rafe and Flynn, the two people he’d always been closest to in the world, who had no clue that he’d changed jobs.

  Figuring out how to break it to them was a problem for another day. Tonight he had the chance of a decent run of cards, some not-sucky beer, and a spread of barbecue left over from a big party at the resort. No better way to spend a Wednesday night.

  Aside from spending it with Delaney. But it was hard enough to steal time with her on the weekend.

  If he got up now, though, he could ping her. See what she was up to. Pretend like chatting online made up for being more than a hundred miles apart and unable to see each other without a shit-ton of advance planning.

  Who was he kidding? He’d take what he could get when it came to Delaney. And even if she was here, in Bandon? Having dinner with him every night and waking up next to him every morning?

  It still wouldn’t be enough.

  Which was a big-ass problem he’d have to figure out ASAP.

  Kellan threw his cards on top of the pile of green and red chips in the center of the table. “I fold.”

  “Don’t be a pussy,” whined VisorMan. “The game’s no fun unless the pot gets fat.”

  Interesting. Maybe this guy was trying to pull something. “I need to refill my plate more than I need to watch you play out this hand, George.” No time to chat with Delaney after all. Kellan was here to do a job. So he’d grab another scoop of mac and cheese, a pulled pork slider, and hurry back to the table to keep tabs on the newcomer.

  That plan went out the window exactly one scoop of coleslaw later, when the door to the clubhouse opened to reveal Rafe in the doorway, with Flynn right behind him.

  Oh, shit.

  There was a moment that could’ve been funny—okay, it was funny, but Kellan figured he’d only make a volatile situation worse by laughing at the identical, eyebrows-high expressions of shock on his brothers’ faces. One that he was pretty damn sure was echoed on his own. He couldn’t let the rest of the room see it, though, so he ditched the plate and made it to the door in three long strides while they stood, frozen.

  One hand planted in the middle of Rafe’s classic Springsteen concert tee—that Mollie had gotten for him on eBay to make up for all the carefully collected concert shirts he’d been forced to leave behind in Chicago—Kellan pushed them back into the dark and kicked the door shut with his foot.

  “What’s up?” Yeah, his casual greeting fell flatter than a leaf under the 876-page tome Intro to Contract Law.

  Rafe gave him a return shove. “What the fuck is up with you? What are you doing here at the resort, after hours?”

  Part of Kellan—about 99.999 percent of him—wanted to remind his older brother that he was an adult who could go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. But that wouldn’t shut down this interrogation and get him back to the poker game anytime soon. Or remind them that he wasn’t a kid anymore.

  Maybe they’d treat him like an equal once he strapped on his badge, holster, and service weapon.

  Then again, maybe they’d hate him for it.

  On a shrug, Kellan said, “I’m hanging with my friends.”

  “What friends?” Flynn asked.

  “Guys from the cranberry plant.” This was stupid. There wasn’t any reason for Rafe and Flynn to be here, after hours, either—unless they’d somehow heard about the game. But they didn’t want to get caught dipping back into anything even semisecret so they were hassling Kellan.

  Clearly, they didn’t know that he knew that they knew.

  Rafe pounced with the next question. “Since when do you hang out with them?”

  “Since you two are too busy getting busy with your women to hang with me anymore.” There. A good dose of guilt ought to wrap this up.

  Flynn looked down and away, fast. If he made a move that obviously guilt ridden on the witness stand in October, he’d be toast. Then he knocked his elbow against Rafe’s. “Why don’t you get Mollie to set K up with Lily? She’s pretty. Good job as an elementary school teacher. I’ll bet they’d hit it off.”

  Talk about an awkward—and obvious—attempt at redirection. “I don’t need a setup,” Kellan said swiftly. “I just need you two to go away and let me throw some damn cards in peace. Nobody needs brotherly bickering in a poker game. I know all your tells, anyway. I’d empty your pockets in three hands.”

  Rafe stared at him for a long minute. Then he jerked his head so they’d follow as he tramped off the grass and up over the dune onto the tenth hole of the famous course. Kellan was tempted to mention that most people had to pay more than five hundred bucks to set foot on the perfectly manicured grass.

  Maybe he’d just tell Lucien and have him send Rafe a bill. As a joke.

  Mostly.

  At the top of the dune, the moon glinted off the dark ocean. Rolling sand dunes stretched all the way along the narrow course, with the water on the other side.

  “Are you running a scam in there?”

  Kellan was not at all surprised that Rafe had semi-figured it out. After all, he’d spent his whole life in the
mob. An underground poker game was as basic and obvious to him as a quadratic equation to an astrophysicist. So he changed tactics. Went with the truth.

  They’d never see that coming.

  “A legal one. I’m playing to catch cheats. I’ve got Lucien’s blessing.”

  Flynn turned to face him, backlit by the moon, so the harsh edges of his face were in shadow. But no light was necessary to see the anger tightening every muscle, making his stance rigid and his words fly out like bullets.

  “Don’t try to weasel out of this with technicalities.” He jabbed his fingers against his sternum, fast. “I lived my life on that knife’s edge and almost ended up in prison for five years.”

  Wow. The attack coming from Flynn instead of Rafe was . . . unexpected. Flynn, even after nine months had gone by, was obviously still raw from his near miss with prison. It almost took the edge off Kellan’s annoyance at them being overprotective.

  “Look, it’s cute you want to be bad like us, but you’re the good Maguire brother.” Rafe crossed his arms over his chest in a wide-legged Superman pose. Then he threw him the do it or die look that Kellan had always associated with orders to do his chores or make it home by curfew. The underbelly of Chicago probably knew the look as a threat far more serious. “Keep it that way.”

  It wasn’t the patronizing tone that pushed him over the edge. It was the clear fact that they still viewed him as living inside a glass bubble.

  Well, fuck that.

  He’d had enough. Enough of them being in their oh-so-secret club and keeping him out of the loop. Enough of them treating him like a freaking museum exhibit of Perfect Brothers.

  Enough of Rafe and Flynn not seeing him at all. They saw only what they wanted to when it came to Kellan. He got that they did it to make them feel better about their crap life choices of being mobsters, but he was done being their morality savior.