Hate fuck?
I knew what it meant, but it wasn't my thing. And yet, the thought of driving into Arden Weathers was enough to make me nearly groan out loud.
I'd been wanting her for days, maybe longer.
Did I hate her?
At one time, I did.
But now? I didn't know what I felt, but it wasn't hate.
I replied, "That's one idea."
With another laugh, she said, "I know. Crazy, right? I mean, it's not like we'd ever do it."
"Got that right."
Something in her posture changed, and not for the better.
Before she could even think of turning away, I said, "I’m not into the hate thing."
Her shoulders relaxed. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Me neither." She paused. "So, what are you into?"
I felt my lips curve into a knowing smile. "If you wanna come in, I'll show you."
"You mean in the shower?" She hesitated. "How cold is it?"
I gave it some thought. It wasn't too cold. But it was cold enough to make her nipples harden into nice little knobs. At the mental image, my pulse jumped, and my erection throbbed. Her nipples wouldn’t be cold for long. I'd warm them nice and slow with my tongue, and then with my mouth.
She'd be shivering, alright, but not from the cold water.
It was a nice thought. But it wasn't the way I wanted to start. I wanted her warm and willing, so I reached for the shower handle and turned it up a few notches. "It's not cold anymore," I said.
This was only half-true. It would take maybe thirty seconds for the water to fully warm. But the point remained the same.
When she spoke again, her voice was filled with breathless speculation. "I dunno…I mean, the shower's pretty narrow."
I smiled. "I know." But that was part of the appeal. We could be nice and close. And, I could think of all sorts of ways to make the tight space work in our favor.
Through the frosted glass, I gave Arden's silhouette a good, long look. I still couldn't make out her face, but I knew in my gut that if I opened the shower door for a better look, she'd be chewing on her bottom lip.
She did that when she was thinking.
She had nice lips – full and sweet. For a while now, I'd been wondering what they'd look like wrapped around my cock. Or maybe I'd focus on her other lips. I was good at that sort of thing. I could part them just enough for me to lick and suckle her secret places until she lost all control.
Now that would be something.
Or hell, forget the oral stuff. Maybe I'd just take her the old-fashioned way until she climaxed so hard, she forgot the whole "hate" part of the equation.
I didn't want her to hate me.
I wanted her to want me.
Because I wanted her.
I wanted her more than I'd wanted anyone in a long time.
Sure, I had plenty of other options, including one right across the street. But there was only girl I wanted, and she was standing on the other side of the shower door.
I said, "Or if you want, I'll come out."
"No." She hesitated. "I mean, actually, joining you wouldn’t be so bad."
She had no idea.
It wouldn't be bad at all. I'd make damn sure of it.
I waited, giving her time to think. And anticipate. And imagine all of the nice things I was gonna to do to her. Knowing Arden, she was thinking about it right now. And me – I wasn't gonna rush it.
When she edged closer, I smiled.
"Well…" she said. "If nothing else, it would be good to get it out of our system, right?"
Wrong.
The way she talked, she was looking at a one-time deal. I saw what she meant, but it wasn't what I had in mind.
But hey, I knew – because yes, I was an arrogant bastard – that a single time wouldn't be enough. She'd be coming back for more. I'd make damn sure of that, too.
I pushed open the shower door, not caring that water splashed onto the outdated bathroom tile. I held out my hand and teased, "You know you want to."
"Yeah, but…" Her words trailed off as she studied my outstretched hand.
With the shower door open, I could see her face clearly now. Her eyes were bright, and her lips were parted. Her hair was long and loose, and she was wearing jeans and some sort of flannel overshirt. The shirt was open to reveal a thin gray tank top underneath.
No bra? That was my guess. But hey, I'd be finding out soon enough.
Silently, I waited, letting my outstretched hand do all the talking.
With a breathless laugh, she finally said, "Okay. Yes. I mean, hang on. I'll get undressed."
I shook my head. "I've got a better idea."
"Really? What's that?"
I grabbed her hand and gave it a gentle tug. "Get in with your clothes on."
Her breath hitched. "But they'll get all wet."
I grinned. "I know."
She laughed. "But you're not wearing any clothes. It doesn't seem fair."
"I know," I repeated. "But fair's for pussies. And trust me." I lowered my voice. "When I get done with you, you won't be complaining."
Chapter 43
Arden
Oh, boy.
Was I really going to do this?
He was wet and naked.
I was dry and clothed. No. That wasn't quite true. I was wearing clothes alright, but deep inside, I was soaking wet. Even now, I could feel the proof of my arousal dampening my panties to the point of embarrassment.
Or at least, I should've been embarrassed.
This wasn't me.
I didn't even like him. He was impossible. Cocky. Stubborn. He'd been my arch-enemy for years, ever since high school.
But he was also the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. And, from the looks of him now, I wasn't the only one caught up in the madness. By some fluke, he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
If his hand on my wrist wasn't proof enough, his massive erection told me everything I needed to know.
I glanced down – not to his pelvis, but to my own hand, where his fingers encircled my wrist. In spite of his obvious interest, he'd made only that initial tug.
I knew what this meant. It was up to me if I really wanted to join him.
I bit my lip. Did I?
Oh, please. Who was I kidding?
There was no way on Earth I'd say "no" now. And the reason for this was achingly simple. I didn't want to.
My pulse jumped, and my breath caught. Slowly, I looked up to study his face. His hair was soaking wet, curling in dark tendrils over his forehead. His eyes were warm, and his lips were curved into a knowing smile.
He knew exactly what I was going to do.
The cocky bastard.
My breath hitched as I gave a single nod. "Okay."
Talk about a massive understatement.
With a wicked grin, he yanked me closer. My feet barely hit the tile floor as he practically dragged me into the shower and pulled the door shut behind us.
The space was narrow, and my clothes were already getting soaked. The shower was not meant for two people, even if I could totally see the appeal. With a breathless laugh, I asked, "Are you sure this is safe?"
His arms closed tightly around me, and he lowered his head to nuzzle my neck. Against my skin, he said, "Oh yeah."
His lips were warm and soft as his hands slid up my back, tugging at my flannel overshirt. Taking the hint, I let my arms fall loose, giving him the chance to remove the shirt all the way.
Without skipping a beat, he yanked the shirt free of my arms and let it fall onto the wet shower floor. One of his hands returned to my back, while the other went straight for the button of my already-damp jeans.
By now, I was practically panting. And yet I still felt compelled to ask, "Are you sure?"
With a smile in his voice, he said it again. "Oh yeah."
I laughed. "I meant about the shower. Like, it's not gonna break or anything is it?"
"It doesn't matter," he said, giving me the sweetest nibble on my ea
rlobe. "We're replacing it next week."
Already, I could hardly think. But at least one of us had to keep our wits about us, right? I gasped, "But what about the floor? I mean, we don't want to fall through or anything."
With a low laugh, he said, "Trust me. We're fine."
I felt fine, that's for sure.
Already, he'd unzipped my jeans and was now tugging them down past my hips. As he did, I used my own feet to frantically work at my wet sneakers, trying to nudge them off without stooping to use my hands.
I actually managed to do it, too, stepping out of my shoes just as Brody used first his hand, and then one of his bare feet to shove my jeans first past my knees and then all the way down to the shower floor.
On raw instinct, I stepped out of the damp mess, leaving my socks lost somewhere in the denim fabric.
I was now wearing only my panties and a gray cotton tank top – no bra, because the tank top was tight enough to serve as an undershirt and as support for the girls, if you know what I mean.
And speaking of support, I recalled all too well that the house still had its share of issues. I just had to say, "You do know what you're doing, right?"
With that same smile in his voice, he replied, "What do you think?" As he said it, he reached between us and took one of my hard, wet nipples between his fingers. Through the thin cotton of my tank top, he rolled and teased the nub, making me groan in pure bliss.
And still, I somehow managed to say, "I meant about the floor. Like what if there's water damage underneath us or something?"
At this, his tone grew teasing. "Underneath us, huh?" His words weren't the only thing teasing me. He had a way of using his fingers – tugging, pinching, caressing, all the while alternating everything just enough to keep me on the edge of going crazy with desire.
Through the fog of my lust, I almost whimpered as I said, "I just mean, like what if the floor doesn't hold?"
With a low chuckle, he said, "Trust me. It'll hold." As he continued to toy with my nipple, he said in a voice filled with sin, "Underneath us, we've got structural two-by-fours."
Something in the way he said it sent a new rush of heat straight to my core. "Really?"
"Really," he said, worrying my wet nipple between his warm fingers. "And not the flimsy new stuff either."
On a sigh of pure bliss, I murmured, "Oh."
"I'm talking historical hardwood," he said. "The real deal."
Hard wood.
I really liked the sound of that. On a whimper, I said, "I love it when you talk construction to me." As the words left my lips, I almost groaned out loud.
I hadn't meant to say that.
With a trembling laugh, I said, "That's really weird, isn't it?"
Sounding amused as hell, he replied, "Ask me in a minute."
"Why in a minute?"
"Because," he said, "I'm gonna yank down your panties, and press you up against that load-bearing wall, and show you just how much pressure it can take."
I whimpered, "Oh, God."
Sometime within the last minute or so, my hands had slid down to his naked ass. I gripped it tight, and savored the perfect shape of it. If I'd thought it looked good, the feel of it was even better.
Now, I couldn’t help but wonder how the muscles in his ass would feel against my palms as he pounded against me – not like a hammer to a nail, but flesh to flesh.
His hardness. My softness.
Together at last.
Beyond eager now, I slid my right hand between us and reached for his massive erection. When my hands closed around the base of it, Brody gave a muffled moan against my neck. "You're nothing but trouble. You know that, right?"
"Me?" I laughed. "You're ten times the trouble I am."
"We'll see."
And with that, he released my nipple and trailed his fingers lower, easing them past my navel and then lower still. When his fingers reached the intersection of my thighs, I parted them as much as I could in the narrow space and gave a soft moan when his fingers grazed that special spot.
When he rubbed the hardened, aching knob through the thin fabric of my panties, I gave another whimper. He knew exactly where to go, and what to do – almost like he knew my body even better than I did.
If I'd thought he'd played my nipple perfectly, it was nothing compared to what he did with my clit.
Into my ear, he said, "And that wall behind you?"
Breathlessly, I said, "Yeah?"
"Like I said, it's a full load-bearing wall, which means…" His teeth grazed my earlobe as he whispered, "it'll hold no matter what I do to you."
And just like that, I was whimpering again. "Oh, wow."
"No kidding," he said, giving me the most delicious stroke against my panties before shoving aside the lacy fabric and slipping one and then two fingers into my slick opening.
Sounding just as excited as I felt, he murmured against my skin, "You're so fucking wet."
"I know."
Slowly, he pulled back and gave me a long, lingering look, raking me from head to toe. From the warmth in his eyes, he liked what he saw.
I liked what I saw, too. The warm water was cascading down his perfect body, making it glisten and shine even in the relatively low light. His muscles were taut, and his chest was chiseled. His abs glistened in all their glory, defined not only by his fine physique, but by the water sliding down all those wonderful dips and ridges.
I was still gripping his length, stroking and squeezing, loving the way it pulsed against my fingers. And he was still stroking me to distraction. Suddenly, it was almost too much—the look of him, the feel of him, the sensation of him, and even the gleam in his eye as he confessed, "I've been thinking of this for days."
I swallowed. "Really?"
With a slow nod, he said, "Oh, yeah."
Now, it was too much. My stomach clenched, and the walls of my wetness convulsed around his fingers. On a ragged whimper, I somehow managed to say, "Maybe we should find a bed or something."
With a knowing smile, he said, "Forget that. I'm taking you right here. Right now."
Oh, boy. I loved the way that sounded.
The truth was, I loved all of this. And I especially loved it when he reached around and grabbed my ass, lifting me tight against the shower wall.
As he did, my legs wrapped around his waist, almost like they had a mind of their own. With one hand, I reached around his back, looking to steady myself as I used my other hand to guide his hardness toward my opening.
His hips surged forward, slowly at first, and then with one decisive push. He was huge and hard, and filled me nearly to the breaking point. But I was slick and hot and welcomed every wonderful inch.
Just like he'd promised, he took me right then and there, giving me exactly what I'd been craving for days, or maybe even longer.
And almost before I knew what was happening, I was climaxing yet again. I shuddered against him just as the water began to lose some of its heat.
But Brody – he was warm enough for the both of us. When he reached his own climax, driving into me harder and faster, I felt like I'd died and gone straight to heaven, even as the water turned cold in earnest.
But now, the cool water felt surprisingly good. I was hot and sated, and very, very relaxed. He was still holding me tight against him, and I let my head drop onto his shoulder. On a long, happy breath, I murmured, "Wow."
Chapter 44
Brody
Wow was right.
Maybe it should've been a one-time thing. But just like I'd predicted – and made damn sure of, too – Arden couldn’t get enough.
And the real kicker was, neither could I.
It wasn't just sex.
With most girls, they loved the trappings – the money, the fame, and yeah, me too while they were at it – but none of them had ever loved the nitty-gritty of what made me tick.
But with Arden, it was different. She was smart and fun, and not afraid of chipping a nail or getting her hands dirty to make s
omething happen.
It was sexy as hell, and so was she.
Whatever we had between us, it was our guilty secret. And both of us wanted to keep it that way – me because there'd be a shit-storm with my brothers, and Arden because she thought it was a temporary deal.
It wasn't.
She might not know it, but an easy fling wasn't what I had in mind. Not anymore.
As far as my brothers, I'd deal with them later, when the house was finished and Arden was free of cameras and contracts.
For her sake, I'd handle it in private. No video footage. No drama. Just me and my brothers, hammering it out – without an audience.
Until then, I was keeping Arden to myself. And trust me, she wasn't complaining.
As the days turned to weeks, her interest in the house extended beyond the original project, and I found myself wanting her opinions on other projects, too – which houses to restore, which ones to pass up, and what to do with the properties that were next in the show's lineup.
Together, we pulled up plans and looked at pictures. It wasn't just about color schemes and window dressings. It was the layout of the houses, where we'd put in an extra bathroom, or what we'd do with an old kitchen or back patio.
Technically "we" wouldn't be doing anything, because Arden wasn't scheduled to be involved. But I loved her ideas. And her energy. And the way her eyes lit up whenever we brainstormed ways to modernize something while keeping its original structure intact.
Much of this – the house-planning, the brainstorming, the debating back and forth – we did in front of Waverly.
And it was driving her batshit crazy.
Judging from her sorry attitude, she felt ignored and neglected, even more so when I suggested – and none too nicely either – that if she didn't like the way things were going, she could find somewhere else to stay.
Too bad she didn't.
Instead, she stuck around, giving us more scrutiny than we wanted. Every few days, I debated kicking her out – or hell, just taking Arden back to my condo, where it would be just the two of us on our own.
But I didn't. It would only arouse more suspicion and a corresponding amount of camera time. Plus, Chase was my neighbor, and he was suspicious enough already.
I didn't want the extra attention. And neither did Arden. So we played it cool when the others were around. On the job, at the house, wherever – we worked like hell to act like there was nothing going on.
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