by Emily Bowie
“I know,” I mumble as I move my right foot up to my toes and turn it back and forth. “It just could have been handled with a bit more class.” I can’t help but steal another glance at him. He looks pissed and turns off the floor, exiting through the clouded glass doors.
Slinging her arm around me, she leads me toward her crowd. “You and those manners. Did your parents beat you or something?” she jokes. She and I both know my parents were nothing like that.
My stomach is flip-flopping. What if I had judged Tyson before I should have?
“I think I need another drink.” I excuse myself and make my way back to the bar. A new bartender is there.
This time I play it more cool and lean onto the bar with my hip slightly, and ask, “Vodka cranberry.” Our eyes meet for a second, and I am sure she is going to refuse my order.
“Coming right up.” She gives me a smile as she goes to fix my drink.
*
TYSON
I am left standing in the middle of the dance floor alone. This is a first for me. Jewels has totally blindsided me. Her lingering perfume dances around me, making me wish she were still in my arms. Specks of light twirl around me in the dim room. I feel like this should have been our night. I see a few eyes on me, making me feel like an idiot, before I walk off to the side in search of another drink.
I thought I finally had a breakthrough while we danced together. What is it about this girl that has me saying all of the wrong things? It started at our initial dinner and has progressively gotten worse. I feel like I’m losing my charm, my charisma. By the end of that night she had looked at me like I had the black plague or something.
Why did I have to get all creepy and ask her back to my place while dancing? Even though I did do it with the best of intentions, it’s not like anyone else would know. Doesn’t she realize that I don’t put in effort with women, and here I am spending my time with her. I meant it when I told her “it only takes one.”
Going through the French doors, I head into our personal kitchen. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I just want to sit and have a drink by myself.
I head straight for the liquor cabinet and take out the bourbon. Its bite reminding me of who I am. I am Tyson fucking Bennett, and I always get what I want. I have no doubt that I want Jewels Rogers. I make a mental note to have her looked into, and start a personal file on her.
Leaning back in my chair I twirl my short crystal glass, a sound of tripping and laughter breaks into my silence.
“Where have you been?”
My brother Chase is standing in the doorway with what looks like a blonde model on his arm. His presence reminds me that he grew up in the same small town as Jewels.
“Getting ready for the party.” The girl giggles at some kind of inside joke.
I love my brother but sometimes he can be insensitive. This party is a big deal to Brody. You would think Chase would be getting better at dealing with large crowds. As much as he is like us, he is also totally different. He is money and power hungry, and completely driven, almost too obsessed with what he calls ‘making it.’ He typically works long, stressful hours, for rare moments like today when he can set aside his formal business persona for the carefree guy at a party. There are very few moments where he lets himself go. But who am I to judge? I never had to grow up in a home like he did. Bringing Chase to grow up with us was one of the best things our parents could have done for our family.
Before turning toward the party he asks, “You okay?”
“Never been better,” I lie.
After finishing my drink, I enter the party once again; the room is completely full. Scanning the room, my eyes fall upon her instantly. She has another drink in her hands. I thought I told her to take it easy on the wine. No way someone her size can handle much more. I move around the edge of the room, not letting her leave my peripheral vision.
“Hi, handsome.” Two arms wrap around my neck and a familiar face blocks my vision of her.
“Andrea.” I unwrap her arms as I say her name. Immediately, she begins to pout.
“What’s wrong, can I help?” Her hand immediately goes toward my crotch.
“No.” I stare down at her sternly, not wanting her to be near me in case it ruins any chance I might have with Jewels.
Andrea and I have a lot of history. Both of our fathers are co-presidents in the circle we run with. It was always thought I would become the king of the elect society and she would become the queen on my arm. We even ran under that spell, as we hooked up frequently yet never actually dated. I can see the confusion and hurt on her face.
Feeling bad, the only way I can explain is to tell her, “It’s complicated.”
She gives me a sly look. “You will come around.” And gives me a wink before sauntering away.
I scan the room for Jewels, but she is nowhere to be seen. Coming around the room, I look a little more frantically, not wanting her to leave. That’s when I see the security detail on the move; following his line of sight, I see her sneaking up the stairs.
What is she up to? If she is looking for anything valuable she will be disappointed. I immediately feel guilty for that thought. She isn’t that type of girl.
Shaking my head toward the security detail, I follow her up the stairs on the other side. At the top of the stairs it breaks into two wings with a large family room in the middle. My brothers and I have bedrooms in one wing, even though we’ve all long since moved out. The other wing hosts our parents’ bedroom and office.
She is looking at the old family photos on the wall, standing in a protective stance with her arms wrapped around herself.
Leaning against the railing for a moment, I watch her as she studies the old family photo from when I was almost in grade school, along with my two brothers. Then she moves her gaze to the next picture. It is the first family photo we had taken after Chase came back to live with us, when we were all teenagers. Both of these pictures hold a special place in my mother’s heart. Both photos show our family when we were whole, when Chase lived with us.
I clear my throat, not wanting to startle her before I walk up beside her.
“Why are you up here?” I ask, as I allow my eyes to wander down the back of her slender legs. Her legs in those heels are killing me. Faack me.
She turns toward me as she hiccups, almost catching me openly checking her out.
Her gorgeous eyes go wide, taking in my presence. “I should go,” she whispers, refusing to hold my stare.
I can’t help but smirk at her before blocking her path. When she realizes I don’t plan to let her pass she shoots her chin out, annoyance written all over her face.
“What happened to the blonde hanging off you?” she asks, her face adorably twisted like I have a virus.
So she did notice. I like knowing that she cares, but I still have no idea how to handle a girl like her.
“She is no one.” I shrug impassively.
She tilts her head in my direction, narrowing her eyes. I can tell by her facial expression that it was a wrong answer.
Deflecting, I respond, “I thought I told you to slow down on drinking.”
She takes a step back and leans her back into the wall behind her. I can’t help but admire her right now. She is beautiful beyond hell and fiery. Must be the red hair. All I can think is that she wants me. I can see the desire in her eyes. My dick begins to stir, wanting to get out and jump her. It takes all of my self-control to refrain from grabbing her into my arms and kissing that beautiful full pout of hers. I wonder what she would taste like? Would she shiver in delight when I taste her?
I have to close my eyes for a second to try to vanish the thoughts intruding in my mind. This will get me nowhere.
Opening my eyes, I take another look at her. Her lips are parted, her chest rising and falling. But what is holding me back? Finally, it hits me, she is guarded. For the first time in my life I want more than just a fuck. I want to know her and what she’s hiding.
But
at that thought my mind is off racing again. This time with her legs wrapped around me, arching her chest into mine as she calls out my name.
She begins to giggle, shaking her head at me. All of a sudden I feel vulnerable, like she can see right through me. She takes a step forward, pressing her back off the wall and walks toward me. Stopping in front of me, her hand comes up to my chest. “Captain Playboy, I’ll let you know when I am done drinking.” She gives me a wink just as she heads back down to the party.
I am left speechless. No girl has stood up to me in the history of man.
I watch her as she descends the stairs to the party. About halfway down she reaches into the top of her dress and takes out her phone. Who knew the vixen was hiding something in there.
Chapter 4
JEWELS
Taking my phone from the top of my dress, I try to do it as sensually as possible, without looking like an idiot. I know he’s watching. I need him to see what he is losing. I never play number two. He is either with that blonde or me. He can’t have it both ways.
I press the answer button while placing my phone hard to my ear in an effort to drown out the noise. Upon hearing my brother’s voice, I know something is wrong. My body goes rigid.
“What is it, Luke?” I ask as I make my way out of the large room, hoping to find a quieter place.
“I need your help with some numbers.” I can feel the tension in his voice.
I look around for somewhere to take this call privately, the only sanctuary I can take is behind those frosted glass doors, otherwise I will have to go past Mandy, and she never lets any topic drop. Taking my chances, I open the door and close it behind me. Immediately, the noise level drops to where I almost can’t hear the party.
“What type of numbers?” Since leaving the ranch, I know our family’s money situation has gone from bad to worse. Up until this point Luke has tried to shield it away from me as much as possible. It scares me that he felt I was his last option for help.
“I need your help setting up some odds for me.”
“Like for betting?” What on earth has he gotten himself into? I begin to pace in the large kitchen. All of a sudden my dress feels hot and my hands get clammy. Maybe I should call Trevor? The thought makes me sick to my stomach.
“You know I would never ask unless it was important.” I can hear the pleading in his voice.
“Okay, call me with the information tomorrow morning. And I will come up with what you need.” Who would have thought that my perfect score in math would come to this?
“Thank you. Talk to you soon.” He ends the call just as I spot a full bottle of wine on the counter.
What’s one more glass, really? Conveniently, there are a few glasses lined up on the counter, I snag one for the taking, pouring myself a nice well-rounded glass.
I take the first sip, liking its overly sweet flavor. The thought of going back to Three Rivers and facing the small town again is something I never want to do. My mind races with all of the different outcomes this could lead to. Finally, I decide I don’t care. Or maybe it’s the sweet liquid I’ve been drinking that is changing my mind. Family is family, and you help no matter what. Luke has saved me more than a few times in my life.
The image of him with the shotgun and Trevor’s face flashes through my mind, and I can’t help but smile.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” A heavily intoxicated man walks in. He is handsome but has an edge to him. He radiates danger, with his tattoo sleeve and rugged, wavy blond hair.
“Chase Bennett,” he introduces himself.
Bennett. How many are there?
“Want to do a shot?”
I press my lips together, trying to gauge him before I answer. He goes to the cabinet and takes out two shot glasses and some bottle with blue liquid.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it girly. I know how you girls like your fruity drinks,” he says over his shoulder as he plays bartender.
Turning around he hands me the shot, and instinctively, I smell it.
“See, it even smells good.” He laughs, holding his small glass out and I cheers it.
“Bottoms up!” he calls out before we both down the sweet liquid.
Not bad. In fact, it is pretty good.
“Thank you.” As I hand him the shot glass, Tyson walks into the room.
He stops and looks at the two of us, his eyes lock on Chase’s, not mine.
“Brother,” he greets Chase sternly before taking a position next to me, pulling me into his side.
“Tyson,” Chase mocks, as he looks at the two of us then laughs, shaking his head. “I’m damaged goods anyway.” He looks at me, like he is letting me down nicely.
“Excuse me?” I try to retreat a step but Tyson has me locked in place.
“Give Tyson a chance.” He taps his brother’s shoulder before he goes back to the party, leaving me alone with Tyson.
“I think we need to play this differently.”
Tyson is looking at me intently, and I feel lost in the conversation. Play what?
He turns me so that I am trapped between the kitchen table and him. “Since you don’t listen when I tell you to stop drinking, how about we play shot for shot.”
His arms capture my waist, one of his legs pressing up against my thigh. Heat flows through me, warming my core, and I try not to clench his leg as I feel a sensation that I haven’t felt in far too long running through my very being.
He dips his head down, and I can feel his lips on the lobe of my ear. “So what is it going to be, Country?”
The so-called endearing name he seems to have given me straightens my spine. I will not melt into Captain Playboy, I declare to myself.
“Lady’s choice?” I ask as his lips curl into satisfaction.
Chapter 5
TYSON
She looks so peaceful snuggled into my feathery comforter; her strawberry blonde hair sprawled across the pillow and part of her face. I have been standing here for much longer than I would even like to admit to myself.
I have an insatiable need to know her. When I woke up this morning I contacted my guy to begin looking into her past and family. One can never be too careful nowadays. With my family’s amount of money and position in society, you never know when a girl wants to be with you or the privilege I come with.
The sound of my laptop email dings, informing me that I have a new message. I take another look, trying to engrave how she looks in this moment into my mind, before I force myself to go back into the other room.
It’s an email from my guy. He works fast and efficiently. That’s why I keep him on payroll. He is also very good at covering up scandal before it breaks out.
The email is full of information on a Texas gambling ring, her family’s ranch out in Three Rivers, and a newspaper article showing a girl in her cowgirl boots and prom dress stomping away from a truck. This must have been what she was referring to when she discussed her famous moment. I can’t help but chuckle at the picture. Good to know she’s stubborn with everyone, not just me.
Hearing some movement from my room, I close my laptop and head back to my spot at the door. As I watch her sleep, I know what I have to do. I am an asshole. One day she will forgive me and realize I did it for us.
I see her eyes begin to flutter open, and then she sits up, confusion taking over her features. “Good morning.” I lean against the doorframe, trying to look collected when I am anything but.
My large T-shirt hangs off one of her bare shoulders, her hard nipples pointing through the thin fabric. In this moment, I wish I hadn’t placed my shirt over top of her. I would have loved to see those perky tits bounce up at me. The thought has my dick jumping to life.
Looking down, she sees my shirt and her eyes dart to mine. “Why am I in your shirt?” she demands.
She looks so fucking sexy right now it physically hurts. I shift to stand upright, in hopes to casually adjust myself before my pants strangle my erection.
“I figured yo
u didn’t want to sleep in your puke-covered clothes.” I shrug like it is nothing.
Her hands swing up to cover her eyes and she falls back into my bed.
Two of her fingers widen, allowing part of her beautiful blue eyes to shine through as she turns her head toward me.
“Please don’t say I threw up on you, too?”
I can’t help but laugh. She seems genuine and naturally down-to-earth. The calm before the storm, I remind myself.
“No, Country.” I can’t help the smile as I begin the start of the banter.
Sitting up, she flips her long wild hair over to one shoulder, exposing her shoulder to me again. It’s at that moment I can tell she notices she is only wearing my shirt.
“Why am I not wearing panties?” she demands, looking worried and concerned.
“Don’t worry, we didn’t do anything last night.” My dick has been reminding me all night. “You refused to wear my clothes up until you got sick on your bra and panties, too.”
“Oh God.” She moans in embarrassment.
I clear my throat, trying to stifle a laugh at how adorable she is right now.
“Don’t worry, you can make it up to me this weekend at a dinner I need to go to.” I walk toward her and give her a kiss on the forehead. That was easier than I thought. Maybe I don’t have to be that asshole. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“I’m not going to dinner with you.”
Why must she be so difficult?
I press my lips together, trying to hide my harsh tone. “Yes, you are. Sugar, cream, or both?” I keep my face void of any expression.
“What part of no don’t you understand?” She stands up and my shirt grazes her thighs, leaving way too much to my active imagination. I want to dig my fingers into those legs as she bucks on top of my cock.
“Listen, Country, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
“Stop calling me ‘Country!’” she yells, flustered. Her hands go up into the air, raising that damn T-shirt of mine. It is almost high enough that I can see that pink pussy of hers. Believe it or not, I didn’t even take a peek of it last night when changing her. I was a true, noble gentleman. But now, I’m kicking my ass for that. What I wouldn’t give to have the luxury of worshiping her body right now.
