by Willow Aster
Mya cannot contain her laughter, and I can’t help but lose it once again. My grandmother fills our glasses one more time, and we continue to talk and laugh until late into the night before we finally make our way home.
Bellies and hearts full and a night of nipple dreams ahead, no doubt.
Chapter Five
Spence
I’m standing in the shower letting the hot water rain down on me, and I pour a healthy handful of body wash in my hand and scrub it over my face. I’m in a foul mood because Caden and Gus were out late and came home drunk, making all sorts of noise. It’s time we each have our own place. The new condos should be ready in two weeks, and it would be smart to rent those out and collect the cash for now, but there’s a price on sanity—and I need my space. We can afford it, this property is going to be a cash cow for us, and while we continue the renovations, we can each set up camp in our own condos.
A chill surrounds me just as two hands wrap around my middle.
What the actual fuck?
I spin around and shove the person back, unable to see as I have fucking suds in my eyes. I swipe it away as the woman screams.
“Oh my God. I thought you were Gus.” She hustles her ass out of the shower and I turn off the water and grab a towel, as she slips on the floor and eats shit. It’s a full-on yard sale in my goddamn bathroom and I’m not happy about it. I wrap a towel around my waist and help her to her feet, avoiding looking at her naked body that she’s making no attempt to cover. I hold out a towel and she finally takes it.
“I’m sorry about that. I passed out on your couch and Gus said he was going to grab a shower—I thought I’d surprise him.”
She has black streaking down her face, and her hair is half wet and half curled. She’s drying her body but still makes no attempt to cover herself.
What is happening?
I need my own place. This is the final nail in the coffin.
I storm out of my room, leaving the naked woman in my bathroom. Gus walks into the apartment just as I make my way down the hall.
“Hey, brother. How are you this morning?” he says in a singsong voice because the dude is always hopped up on sugar and caffeine and hasn’t seen a bad day in his entire life. The glass is not only half full, it’s overflowing. And today, it annoys me even more than usual. Because I can’t even take a goddamn shower without being violated.
“How am I? Let me see … I was woken up by you and Caden last night because your drunk asses have no consideration for others. And then I try to take a shower, and I’m groped by one of your lady friends. Time to get out. We need our own space. I’m done.”
His head tips back and laughter booms through the apartment. The son of a bitch doesn’t have a serious bone in his body.
“You met Delilah? She’s something, isn’t she?”
“She got in the shower naked with me. I would say we’ve met, yes,” I hiss, as she strolls toward us with just a towel wrapped around her, cinched above her gargantuan tits. Those were impossible to miss.
“Sorry about that. I thought you were going to take a shower?” she says to Gus, and she giggles like she didn’t just step into a shower naked with the wrong brother.
“That’s okay, baby. Honest mistake,” Gus says.
Baby? What is happening?
Gus hands her a coffee and then turns to me. “I would have grabbed you one, but I only have the two hands.”
I move close to him and yank the Starbucks cup from his hand. “I’ll take this one, asshole. Next time tell your company where your room is. I shouldn’t have to lock my bedroom door to take a fucking shower.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Delilah says as she wriggles her brows and Gus snorts.
I go to my room and slam the door. I don’t have time for this shit today. I’m hoping to get the flooring down in five condos today and the electrical finished on the second floor. I have a team of guys meeting me downstairs in an hour.
I get dressed and run into Caden on my way out.
“I heard what happened with Desiree,” he says, trying to hide his smirk but unable to do so because he’s a clown too. But he’s the more rational brother. The dude is smarter than shit, and he’s really the genius behind this business. Me and Gus are the muscle. Jesse is the numbers guy. But Caden—he’s got the vision. He’s got a mind for business and a talent for seeing things when he looks at an empty space that none of us can see. He’s pushing us to grow and I’m thankful for what he brings to the table. Minus the drunken ruckus in the middle of the night.
“Her name is Delilah, asshole. You two woke my ass up last night, and I’m not happy about it.” I grab my keys and storm to the door.
He laughs. “Sorry about that. I’ll be down in a little bit.” Our office is downstairs in the lobby of the building.
“Can’t wait.” It’s all a little too much for me today.
I slam the door behind me—a lot of slamming for one morning and my head is feeling the effects—and make my way to the French bakery around the corner. I need a second cup of coffee and a croissant if I’m going to make it through this day. The sun is out and the fresh air does me some good. Edith, the woman who owns the bakery, manages to turn my mood around, as the older woman reminds me of my mother.
I make my way back to the condo and come to a stop at the sight in front of my building. A peach-shaped, perfect ass is pointing right at me, covered in a red dress, as she’s bent down beside the curb. I’d recognize that ass anywhere. And the long, shapely legs that balance on five-inch heels.
Why is this woman always bent down and taunting me with her perfect ass?
My mouth goes dry and I stand there gaping like a damn creeper as she tightens the lug nuts. I’ve never seen anyone or anything sexier in my life. She pushes to her feet and turns to find me standing there.
“What are you staring at, Old Solemn?” she hisses, and I roll my eyes.
“Hey, thanks for doing that,” Luis says as he walks around his car and my eyes double in size. “I haven’t changed a spare tire before, and you saved me the trouble of calling AAA.”
Luis is our tile guy. He’s just allowed the she-devil to change his tire while she’s dressed like every man’s fantasy in a skintight red dress that ends at her knees and hugs her curves in all the right places.
I scowl at him. “Why the fuck did you let her change your tire?”
“Uh, she offered. She insisted it wasn’t a problem,” the jackass stumbles over his words.
Yeah, you just lost your man-card, dipshit.
“Stop shaming him. I’ve changed more tires than most men will ever change in their lifetime. Don’t be a chauvinistic pig. It’s unbecoming, as are most of your qualities,” she says, one brow raised and a black smudge of oil on her nose.
“Can I pay you?” Luis asks, trying to find an ounce of dignity.
“No. Like I said, it’s not a problem. I got here early to meet Mya and it was a piece of cake. Don’t let this big brute intimidate you. Grumpy Smurf has probably never changed a tire himself.” A wide smile spreads across her face and her blue-green eyes twinkle. I notice that about people, when their smile reaches their eyes. It’s a rarity to find that kind of genuineness in others these days. And it’s always surprised me that Emma has it.
“Thanks again. I’ll meet you inside, boss,” Luis says, tucking tail and hauling ass into the building.
She grabs her purse and pulls out some kind of napkin and wipes off her hands. I lean forward and swipe at the dirt on her nose. She gasps at the contact but then stills as I use my thumb to wipe it away.
“Just a little smudge there, don’t get excited,” I say, lingering longer than necessary. Vanilla and strawberry hit my senses and my dick goes hard immediately.
Nothing happened down south when the naked woman surprised me in the shower this morning, pressing her big tits into my back, yet standing here on a busy street in front of my rival—my cock thinks it’s New Year’s fucking Eve.
&
nbsp; This woman knows how to get a rise out of me.
Literally and figuratively.
She licks her plump lips and my hands fist to keep from leaning forward and tasting that sweet mouth. I remember how soft her lips were, how we battled for dominance the one and only time we allowed ourselves to go there.
We’re standing so close, her breath tickles my chin. A car lays on his horn for a good fifteen seconds and pulls us from our haze.
Thank fuck.
Losing control around Emma Kingsley is not an option. Never again. She’s been in my head ever since—well, as she said, the one-off that shall not be named—and I need to rid myself of her, not go back for more.
She’s like a bad fucking disease and I’m convinced she’s put some kind of curse on my dick because he only seems to respond to her these days. And that shit is not okay.
We already know how that story ends. With her tucking tail and hating me even more than she already did.
She squares her shoulders and rips the bag from my hand before tearing off a piece of croissant and popping it in her mouth.
“Payment for the tire.” She shrugs, and her lips turn up in the corners. I can’t help but imagine those cherry red beauties wrapped around my cock, which is currently straining against my goddamn zipper at the moment. I adjust myself as inconspicuously as possible, but her gaze follows my hand down to my junk and I suck in a strained breath.
“He offered to pay you.” I quirk a brow. “You declined.”
“It was my good deed for the day. But seeing as you shamed him for not believing a woman could change a tire, I think a croissant is fair payment.”
If she only knew I’d give her my left testicle right now if she’d keep looking at me like that.
“Where’d you learn to change a tire anyway?” I ask because I want to know and I could use the distraction. I imagine Emma Kingsley growing up as a pampered princess. Hell, I was in line behind her at a coffee shop last week and her order was ridiculously complicated. She’s gorgeous and bitchy and spoiled, so I’d never guess she’d lower herself to bending down in the street to change a tire.
“My dad owns Kingsley’s Auto Shop. I grew up there. He taught me all the things.” She pops another piece of pastry in her mouth and studies me. Hell, the woman manages to make chewing look sexy.
Is hate sex a thing? Because at the moment, I’m both annoyed by her attitude and turned on by the way she’s looking at me.
“And did your mom teach you how to steal a man’s breakfast?” I say, and immediately regret it when her face goes pale and her eyes turn icy blue.
She shoves the pastry at my chest. “My mom taught me how to walk away. It’s what she did best.”
She storms off toward the building and I’m wondering what I said to piss her off this time.
I can handle the woman hating me, but she doesn’t get to flip things around every time she feels like it. Hell, she dishes it out, she should be able to take a little razzing.
“Hey,” I shout, as I follow her into the building and she pounds on the elevator button like it just asked her the same question I did. “I was kidding. You can have the damn croissant. Lighten up.”
But when she turns to me and I can clearly see that she’s hurt, my chest tightens. I don’t have a fucking clue what I said? I’ve said much worse to her than accusing her of stealing my breakfast. Nothing ever makes sense with her. All the more reason to stay the hell away from this woman.
She’s too complicated. And complicated and I do not mix. My dick really wants to have a go at it, but I don’t like psychological warfare, and Emma Kingsley is the queen of mind games. She’s been fucking with my head for months.
The doors open and she steps on and holds her hand up. “Stay there. I don’t need you dropping to your knees again, Old Solemn. Once was enough for me.”
Shots fired.
She wounds my ego once again, but two can play this game.
“I wasn’t the one with my top off though, was I?”
“No. You were just the one who took it off,” she hisses.
My gaze locks with hers just long enough to see her cheeks pinken before the doors close.
Fuck me. This day is off to a shit start, and it isn’t even eight AM.
I stroll into the office and tear off a piece of what’s left of my pastry and curse out my dick for still thinking about the way the she-devil looked eating it one piece at a time.
Doris, our office manager, hasn’t arrived yet, but I find my youngest brother Jesse in his office.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.
I drop to sit in the chair across from him. “Heading up to meet Luis upstairs. Found Emma changing his flat tire this morning while the asshole just stood there watching. Then I get my head ripped off by the she-devil. And I started my day with some lady Gus brought home in my shower naked, because she thought I was him.”
His boisterous laugh fills the office and he runs a hand through his hair.
“You want to move into the spare room with me and Mya until the condos are ready?” Jesse is always trying to keep the peace. He’s good to the core.
“Nah. We’ve got two weeks. I can handle the brothers. So what’s Emma’s story? Her dad owns a mechanic shop?”
“Yeah. It’s the oldest and largest in the city. I met her dad once, he’s a cool guy. A little broody like you,” he says with a laugh. “So, how’d you piss her off this time?”
“Who ever knows with her? She ate away at my fucking croissant like a little mouse while she lectured me about her dad teaching her to change tires. She fucking hates me and I don’t even know what I say to piss her off most of the time.” My hands ball into fists, because I’m done trying to figure Emma Kingsley out. But yet I’m here grilling my brother because I want to know more.
“Emma’s not as tough as she appears.” He shrugs.
I scrub a hand down my face. I’m not so sure about that. “All right. I’m going to head up and get to work. We’ve got flooring going in on five condos today and the electrician and painters should be here soon to get to work on the second and third floor.”
I push to my feet and head for the stairs. If I get on that elevator, my dick is sure to have visions of Emma now that she’s reminded me of that day. Hell, it was almost a year ago. It meant nothing. A drunken makeout session with the bitter minx. She wasn’t so bitter that day.
Maybe the button was pressed to stop the elevator from moving. And maybe I kissed my way down her lush body, taking my time lavishing her perfect tits before I dropped to my knees and buried my face between her legs until she cried out my name. She never says my name and it’s a good thing, because it’s like a siren’s call when she does.
Damn it. I push the vision away. Almost a fucking year and I still can’t seem to get her out of my head. If today isn’t a reminder that she wants nothing to do with me, I don’t know what is.
The walk upstairs helps. I meet Luis and his team and we get to work. Today I’ll get my hands dirty and put in some sweat equity on this building, which is exactly what I need. I spend the next few hours on my knees—getting the bathroom floors tiled.
It’s not as good as dropping to my knees to service Emma Kingsley, but I’m done trying to figure that woman out.
Chapter Six
Emma
I’m swamped at the office when my cell phone rings and my mother’s name flashes across the screen. My stomach dips and I take a few breaths before picking up. What are the chances of her calling when she’s been on my mind? I need to just never think about her. Ever. Again.
And yet, I answer.
“Hello,” I say, my voice coming out higher than I mean it to.
“Em? Is that you?”
Who else would it be? She called me. Obviously it’s me. She always does this. She acts like it’s a surprise to reach me. I’ve had the same number my entire adult life. We had the same number at our home growing up when I was young. She just chose to not use it very oft
en.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“Aw, so good to hear your voice. How are you? What are you up to?”
That’s a loaded question. We haven’t spoken in six years. I was an undergrad back then. She knows nothing about me.
“I’m working. I’m a lawyer now.” I hate how my voice cracks and I sound so eager to get her approval. To please her. Nothing I could ever do would please her, so why do I care?
“A lawyer. My word. That’s amazing. I thought about going to law school at one time.”
Really? Was that before or after she got hooked on pills and booze? From what my father has told me, my mother has always struggled with substance abuse. They had a one-night stand, and she came knocking on his door a year later with me in her arms. He said he never doubted for a minute that I was his, and he tried to make it work with her, moving her in and agreeing to marry her. That’s my father for you. The man always does the right thing. It’s who he is.
They called it quits when I was five years old, and she came in and out of my life every couple of years like the movies on HBO. She always made promises to stick around but never followed through on a single one. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it stung, even all these years later.
Knowing that your own mother doesn’t want you? That’s never an easy pill to swallow. But I’ve learned to accept it and I’ve done just fine without her.
“I didn’t know that. How are you?”
“Oh, honey, I’m doing so well. I’ve stopped drinking. Met a guy who has really helped me get my life together, and every time I go to a meeting, I talk about you. I miss you.”
A little gasp escapes my lips and my hand flies to my chest. I curse myself silently for letting her affect me. The woman wrote the book on broken promises and I’ve had enough crash courses in disappointment for a lifetime.
