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Sutton's Choice (Hudson Boys Book 1)

Page 7

by C. A. Harms


  When he lifts his hand and pulls away a strand of hair stuck to my cheek, I try not to shiver from the touch of his fingertips on my face. Then, ever so slowly, he trails the pad of his thumb over my lower lip, and they part. "It makes you untouchable."

  "And yet you keep touching me."

  "And every time I tell myself I can't do it again." But he has yet to pull his hand away from my face. So, feeling brave I crawl across the seat and bring my body closer to his. When he doesn't attempt to stop me, I reach up and remove his hat, dropping it to the seat beside us.

  The urge to run my fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends, rips through me.

  "What if I want you to touch me?" My voice shakes with need.

  I'm playing with fire, but I can't seem to control myself when it comes to Brantley. He makes me want more; he makes me feel things I've never felt before. He makes me brave.

  "You're asking me to hurt my brother," I should move away. I should make this easy for both of us. Only I'm so close to him, and there is an uncontrollable pull to feel more of him.

  "There's nothing between Bennett and I." I move even closer, and swing my leg over and place one knee on each side of his thighs, and I lower myself to his lap. Brantley watches me closely, but not once does he attempt to stop me. "Touch me," I whisper as my body trembles at the thought.

  "We shouldn't —," I lean in and press my lips to his halting his rebuttal mid-sentence.

  The second my lips touch his, it's almost like I've flipped a switch inside of him. He grips my hips, pulling my body tightly to his, and places one strong hand against the back of my neck. He's holding me in place; my body melts into him when his tongue invades my mouth.

  Moving his hand from my hip he cups my ass, his fingers threaten to breach the barrier of my shorts, and I find myself wiggling as if in search of it.

  "Fuck," he groans, and I feel him growing hard beneath me. "We should—” I don't give him a chance to finish his sentence. Moving my lips with his, I suck on his tongue. I find pleasure in the feral moan that echoes throughout the cab of his truck.

  Brantley conquers my mouth, driving me crazy with the way his tongue moves with my own. His hand still holding my ass as I shift against him, and immediately he lifts his hips to meet mine. His erection beneath the thin material of his swim shorts gives me the exact friction I crave.

  I can't slow down, and I don't want to.

  "Sutton," he growls my name, and I grip his shoulders as I tug on his lower lip with my teeth. I'm so turned on I feel out of control. "So sweet," he whispers, and I'm not sure what he means but the tone of his voice was enough to ensure me he's enjoying this as much as I am.

  Everything outside fades. I've forgotten that we are in the middle of a thunderstorm by a lake with several people outside still looking for shelter from the rain. All I can think of is Brantley and how his hands feel so incredibly good on me. How his tongue continues to roll with my own and how I need more, so much more.

  The sound of someone knocking on the window startles me, and I try to move back off his lap, only he holds me in place. The windows are slightly fogged, but I can see Rory staring at us through the side window. It's clear how unhappy he is from the scowl on his face.

  That look alone is like a cold bucket of water over my entire body. Suddenly I feel uneasy; my cheeks and neck feel like they are on fire with embarrassment and maybe even shame.

  What in the hell am I doing?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brantley

  * * *

  "What the fuck were you thinking?" Rory sits in the passenger seat as I drive down the dark backroad.

  "That's the problem; I wasn't." I hadn't been thinking clearly since Sutton smiled at me the first time. "I avoided her all day." Even when my mind was hassling me to find her, I'd managed to stay away. "Then I saw her sitting under a tree by herself, staring off like she was upset, and before I knew it, I was sitting down at her side."

  "Then shoving your tongue down her throat and dry humping her in the cab of your truck." I sense his disappointment. If I'm honest, I'm disappointed in myself enough for both of us. It's obvious Bennett was hurting about something. Yet there I was with Sutton in my lap, exploring every inch of her mouth with my tongue. But the first taste of her made me lose control, and it was impossible to stop after that point.

  “Brantley; I get it, honestly man, I do. Sutton is amazing; she's sweet and alluring. I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought of doing the very thing you did more than half a dozen times myself."

  I glare at him, but my annoyance doesn't faze him.

  "You're lucky it's me that found you two and not Bennett."

  "He was a little preoccupied with whatever girl he was chasing around last." I'm still torn, wondering if Sutton wasn't lying to herself and my brother when she says they are just friends. Am I a fill-in?

  "You need to make a choice Brant. Stay away from her or talk to Bennett. Then hope that the two of you come out on the opposite side of that conversation unscathed." I turn into the parking space outside Rory's apartment and place my truck in park, looking over at him.

  I swear I can still feel Sutton's body shifting on my lap, her lips moving with my own.

  "I'll stay away," even though I know it'll be one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do, I can't risk losing my brother. I can't hurt him like that, and I've already gone too far concerning Sutton.

  A few hours later, I fall asleep to images of Sutton. The taste of her lips, the fullness as if they are made to fit with my own. I've never in my life kissed a woman that hours later I can still feel the effects it had on my body and mind.

  The Alabama heat's bearing down on my back, the bill of my hat shielding my face as I lean over hammering nails into the chipboard. I'm in my element, sawdust flying, nail guns echoing, and tractors lifting rafters in the air to be set in place.

  It's been a week since I kissed Sutton in my truck. A week since, I made a promise to myself to stay away from her. But, of course, it's easy since Bennett isn't mentioning her either. I don't ask about his actions at the lake, and he doesn't offer any explanation. It's a topic we avoid, which is fine with me. Not that it eases the guilt, but right now, avoidance is my best friend.

  Several times I'd fought the urge to jump in my truck and go to her place so that we can pick up where we left off. Then I see Bennett and feel like a prick for having those thoughts at all.

  I spend my days working and my nights helping pop around the house. Two hundred and eighty-seven acres is a lot for one person to take care of. Seven horses, several turkey's and two lakes sit on the property. Though there were cotton fields at one time, my father has long ago allowed farmers in the area to lease the fields for a portion of the ending profits. He doesn't have the time or the interest himself to plant and pick the fields.

  On the other hand, Ma has several peach and apple trees and rows and rows of strawberries she babies and picks every year. She sells her produce at the farmer's market just outside of town, halfway between Hudson and Montgomery. I think it's more so she could visit with her friends and gossip than the actual profit she makes, but she'll deny it.

  I did my best to stay busy because when things quieted, I'd think of her, and thinking of Sutton always left me feeling like I'm somehow betraying my brother. It's a never-ending battle with a double-edged sword; I'm bound to fall no matter what option I choose.

  "Beers," Aaron announces just as the sounds of the saws end and the hammering stops. "And wings, boys."

  "Hell yeah," Bennett adds. "But I have to be in Montgomery by eight."

  I don't ask, not wanting to hear that he's going to visit a certain someone, but the knot in my stomach makes it hard to move past. I hate thinking of the two of them together, not knowing what is being said or done. It eats away at me slowly.

  "Hot date?" My dad asks, and I attempt to busy myself enough that I'll drown out his answer.

  "More like groveling for forgiveness."
r />   "What'd you do, boy?" I grab water out of the cooler and begin moving toward my truck, tossing my tool belt up inside a little rougher than necessary. I've gotten myself far enough away that I'd be able to miss out on Bennett's reply, which is precisely what I hoped for.

  "You staying at my place tonight?" I don't even notice Ben follow me until I hear his voice only a few inches away. "I don't think I'll be gone long. I suspect that Sutton won't care much about what I need to say or any apologies I have for being an ass."

  Just the sound of her name makes my pulse quicken. Right then, I want nothing more than to turn to him and tell him about her and I in my truck and how I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since she walked out of the gas station on my first day here.

  Instead, I push those feelings and urges aside.

  "I get the apartment next Tuesday, so I think I'll stay at Ma and Pops until then." I don't want things to be awkward, but honestly, being near Bennett makes it more complicated.

  "I was gonna go try to make up for being a jerk to Sutton," my body instantly tenses. I don't want to have this conversation; I don't think I'm strong enough at this point. "I told her things wouldn't be different between us after she shot me down. I've been avoiding her, and the way I acted at the lake, it was the last time she and I talked."

  Shot him down?

  “So, you finally decided to stop being miserable and tell her how you felt?"

  "I wouldn't say I told her how I felt, but I did bring up the possibility of her and I seeing if we could ever be more than just friends." Then, turning around to face him, I lean back against the tailgate of my truck and cross my arms over my chest. "I think my pride took the brunt of the hit, and then I ran around all night like a damn horny teenager. As if I had something to prove, but the truth is; all that did was show her and everyone else exactly why I don't deserve her. She's too sweet."

  I bite my tongue, wanting to say something but knowing I can't. The thought of speaking too much was at risk.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sutton

  * * *

  My mother slows to an almost stop as she eases off the highway turning into the parking lot. A large red barn serves as the host for the weekly flea market that sells fruits, vegetables, and other items. People from the towns all around bring their goods, setting up displays and booths.

  Somehow, I volunteered to help my mother make pies for a bake sale through the church, and to be honest; it'll be a great distraction. My mind has been a sordid mess since Rory found me with Brantley in the cab of his truck. I was embarrassed, but I was also highly torn with how it made me feel and the idea that it would hurt Bennett if he found out.

  A big part of me wants to call him up and tell him I'm attracted to his brother and that I'd hope it didn't come between him and me, but I already knew that it would. The entire situation seems unfair, considering Bennett was one of the people, I felt I could tell anything to, before this situation.

  Avoiding it all seems like the easiest route to take, so call me a coward, but I'm standing quietly on the sidelines.

  "I think that maybe we should make a few of each," I am pulled from my thoughts as my mother places her SUV in park and turns to look at me. "Don't you?"

  "Sounds good," I force a smile because I haven't heard a word she's said before now. She stares at me as if she wants to say more but instead grabs her purse and begins to climb out of her car. I need to work on my game face. "You need apples, peaches, and what else?" I jog after her, doing the best I can to clear any doubts in her mind. The last thing I want is for her to think I'm distracted because I don't want to help her.

  I love spending time with my mom. She's one of my best friends.

  "I've got everything I need for the coconut creme," side by side, we walk through the opened doors and begin to look around. All the produce is fresh, homegrown, and perfect.

  My mother stops at several booths, chit-chatting it up with people she acts as though she hasn't seen in years, but truthfully probably saw yesterday or even last week when she came here or even at church. I smile, wave at a few as I pass by, and again my mind wanders back to a place I desperately need to forget. Remembering how it felt to be kissed by Brantley is only knocking on the door of trouble. However, it doesn't seem to stop me from desiring more. The feel of his hands on my body, one palm gripping my ass, the other on the back of my neck, I could still feel its effects. In less than a minute, he managed to conquer my mind and my body. The harder I attempt to shake off the feelings it left behind, the stronger it feels they become.

  "Sutton," I hear my name and look behind me. "I thought that was you, sweetheart," Bennett's mother is already moving in my direction with a bright smile on her face. Although seeing her makes my stomach feel hollow, knowing what was rolling around in my mind only moments ago gives me nothing but guilty feelings.

  "Hi, Mrs. O'Shay." I brace myself for the hug I know is coming. I still remember the first time I met her. She hugged me tighter than a smaller woman should be able to and proceeded to tell me how pretty I was. It took my breath away, and it surprised me. She is such a sweet woman.

  "Enough with that, Mrs. O'Shay stuff, it’s Anita darlin'," she wraps me up in a tight hug and gives me a squeeze which makes me smile at the familiarity of it. But I also feel saddened by the chance of its loss. Once she finds out about how I practically dry-humped one of her sons and dismissed the other one all in one night, I'm sure her opinion of me may change. "I've missed seeing you around the house."

  "Me too," I'd become a regular at the lake, fishing with the guys and riding horses with Bennett a couple of times a month. "I need to get over there and see Coal."

  Coal is a black Thoroughbred, with only one brown spot on his left back leg, near his knee. He is by far my favorite of the O'Shay horses and my top choice when riding on their land.

  "You may have some competition with Coal, now that Brantley is back," at the mention of his name, I began to fidget my hands at my sides. "My oldest son, have you met him? He's back home now, after being gone for years with the Marines."

  "I did, yes," and kissed him and ground against him like a stripper with her last dollar in her pocket.

  "Well, Coal is Brantley's horse, so you may need to wrestle him for the reins." My cheeks instantly heat at the idea of doing just that. The problem is I'm sure my version of wrestling is much different from hers. "Don't be a stranger hun, stop by. You don't need an invite from Bennett; hell, most of the time, I'm home alone while they're all out doing God knows what. It'd be nice to have a girl's day," she takes my hand in hers and squeezes it. "Strong men have surrounded me for years; I'm outnumbered." I can see that she's not complaining; she loves being the woman in the O'Shay crew. I've seen her husband, and that man is simply the older version of his sons. All three of them are strong, solid, and dominant men. The way they carry themselves with confidence is so attractive.

  "I will," I feel bad telling her I would; knowing I won't makes me feel even worse. I'm so unsettled when it comes to Brantley and Bennett that avoiding it altogether is the choice I've made. Maybe the wrong one, but by far the easiest, and I've never liked complicated. It gives me hives, not to mention a long list of other unpleasant things.

  How did my life become so complex, so fast?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brantley

  * * *

  "You honestly didn't think I'd live at home forever, did ya, Ma?" Resting my arm over her shoulders, I pull her closer to my side.

  "I was hoping," she mumbles, and my father chuckles, walking off shaking his head.

  I got the keys to my apartment late last night and crashed on Bennett's couch for the last time. I may not have much, but I'm determined to sleep in my place tonight. Hell, all I need is a bed and a stocked fridge; I was a simple guy who'd lived in worse conditions during deployments. But I will never again take a soft mattress and a warm blanket for granted.

  "You don't even have a couch," my pint-sized mom
pouts as we stand in the center of my bare living room, "or a television."

  "I'll be all right, Ma," I'm trying not to laugh. I left right out of high school, enlisting before graduation. I knew where I was heading. That day will forever be etched in my mind; it is the first time in my life I felt like I'd broken my mother's heart. That was a day I never want to relive again. As I drove away, I looked back in my rearview mirror to find my father carrying my mother inside their home like a baby as she sobbed into his chest.

  I drove for hours toward my destination. The entire time I felt like my chest was on fire, and a lump the size of a softball was lodged in my throat, or so it felt.

  "I can watch a movie on my phone," she narrows her eyes and looks up at me. I can't help but laugh. "You act like I'm moving six hours away."

  "Watch your mouth," she pokes my side, and when I hug her tighter, she comes with ease. "I've missed having you around, and when we get you back, you leave again. Give me a minute to cope, is all."

  I don't tease her, because truth be told, I'm a sucker for my Ma.

  "I'm not leaving Ma, never again. I'm home to stay."

  I look up at the name displayed on the front of the building—Mitchell's.

  "What is this place?" I ask as I follow behind Bennett and Rory.

  "Consignment," Rory hollers without looking back. "Pre-owned shit."

  "I have no intentions of buying a couch someone else did God knows what on," I shiver at the thought. "If my couch is gonna get messy, it'll be me and a hot blonde making it that way." The words leave my mouth, and immediately my stomach drops.

  Rory reacts as he glares back at me. Bennett only chuckles and holds up his thumb, indicating he agrees. The part that pisses me off is that the two of us are most likely envisioning the same blonde in our heads.

 

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