Recklessly Forbidden (Bennett Brothers Book 2)

by Emily Bowie

  “Fuck me,” he says between breaths.

  I expect him to let me go and start cleaning himself but he stays planted inside of me and holds me tighter as we drop to the mattress. It feels safe and too good. We lie side-by-side, his cock connecting us, our skin pebbled with a light sheen of sweat. When he does pull out he gives me such a warm thank you, you’re amazing kiss (I imagine that is what he is thinking anyway) before he slips into the bathroom to rid himself of the condom.

  I watch his perfect body walking back to me, and can’t help but smile that this man is mine. “I like putting that smile on your face,” he tells me as he begins to crawl onto the bed, caging me underneath him. He gives me a light kiss on my lips before slipping in beside me. His body is snug next to mine, his hands never leaving my skin. My whole body is humming with warmth that this man creates inside me. He makes me feel special and important. Being cocooned in the safety of his arms, I drift in and out of light sleep, enjoying how the events turned in my favor.

  Chapter 18

  TYSON

  The land surrounding Three Rivers is bone dry, dust eating away at me as I ride down the lone back highway. My fingers start to go numb from the jarring of the road. The tension starting in my shoulders traveling throughout my body.

  The first thing I need to do is hack into Lewis’s computer. It may leave clues as to his last moments before his death. I also need to go see Andrea. She may have a few key details without even knowing.

  I wish I felt Jewels’s body pressed against me on the bike, the fact that I have to get my ass back into the city before her grates at me. Especially knowing her ex will probably keep trying to pursue her. Even thinking his name infuriates me. I rev my bike to go faster, welcoming the power I feel underneath my hands.

  I stop in front of my parking stall in the underground parking area to see an Escalade is parked in my spot. If it didn’t have car seats in the back I may have put up more of a fuss. But the mom was probably having a hard enough time as it was. So I park my motorcycle beside it, encroaching onto the other stall that also has a car in it.

  My head rests on the elevator wall as I close my eyes. Stress tingling throughout my body. I just need a cold beer while I rest on my couch and figure out what is going on with the people around me these days. The dinging of the elevator has me opening my eyes, and as I head to my penthouse door I decide to call Jewels. I need to hear her sweet voice.

  “Hello?” a woman’s voice answers.

  “Can I talk to Jewels?” Immediately, I wonder who is answering her phone and why.

  “Babe, who is it?” a voice in the background calls out.

  Keeping the phone between my ear and shoulder, I slip my key into the lock, but it doesn’t glide in as normal, it gets stuck about halfway through and won’t budge. Taking the key out, I retry to only find it doesn’t work again.

  “Sorry, no Jewels at this number.”

  I shake my head, annoyed at my door, and the phone between my ear and shoulders is pinching a nerve like crazy.

  “Sorry about that.” I drop my phone to my back pocket and check the doorknob just to make sure it is locked. It is.

  I really don’t have time for this shit.

  Taking the phone back out I call my super, and it only takes one ring for him to answer. “Hey, Jerry, it’s Tyson.” I don’t brother with my last name, he knows who I am. In fact, it was because of me he was hired.

  “Sorry, man, I think you have the wrong number.” I bring my phone from my ear to look at my phone. It’s the right number.

  “Uh, no…Jerry, the superintendent?”

  “Yep, you got the superintendent but I’m not Jerry. I’m Kyle.”

  “What happened to Jerry?” I ask as I try the knob again.

  “I don’t know who Jerry is, I’ve always been the super. Who are you again?”

  “Tyson Bennett, in the penthouse, my key isn’t working.”

  “I don’t know how to say this but that home doesn’t belong to a Tyson Bennett.”

  “What do you mean?” I fully pronounce each word, trying to rein in my temper. I’m tired, dirty, and sweaty. I just want in my fucking house.

  “I mean, that penthouse has been occupied with a family for the last five years.”

  “You need to come up here and let me in.”

  “Ah.” I can hear the confusion in his voice. “I am on my way up.”

  “Thank you.” I hang up but continue to talk to myself. “I need in my goddamn house!” I try to not make a habit of using the Lord’s name in vain since my mother would have my balls if she heard, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  It doesn’t take long for the so-called super and the security I put in place to come through the elevator. Immediately, I see the look that says ‘how did he get up here?’ The penthouse has a special elevator code.

  “Sir, I think it’s time you leave,” one security guard tells me.

  “We have called the police,” the other one says, standing tall.

  “How about you just open the door and I can prove to you that I live here,” I say, directing my attention to Kyle.

  There is hesitation in his eyes but when he looks at the security guards he feels more confident. “Okay, one look. Then the police will be here if you cause a scene.”

  Taking his key out from his pocket, it slides in flawlessly and the door clicks to open.

  I march inside, spreading my arms out to show them this is my house, my shit, to only be in shock as I look around. Who took my couches? Whose fucking kid is in the frame on the wall where my artwork was? What the fuck? I twirl around, finding all of my possessions gone, replaced with someone else’s life.

  “What the fuck is this?” I point to it all. Fucking roses in my house? And is that an air freshener misting on the table?

  “Where is my shit?” I turn to the three men, outraged, my voice growing louder and louder.

  “Calm down, sir.” One security guard goes to grab my arm.

  I move my arm back so that he misses. Everywhere I look is someone else’s stuff, like my life was erased from this house.

  “Where the fuck is my stuff?” I yell, unable to stay any calmer. “There is hundreds of thousands of dollars in art and furniture alone in this place.” All of the air in my body whooshes out of me with this declaration. The room begins to spin, I take in a deep breath, trying to steady myself. This is my house; I’m not going anywhere. I dig my heels in deeper and take a step farther into what was once my home.

  “You need to leave, sir.” Hands are on me again, enraging me.

  “Like fuck I’m leaving my own house!”

  I can hear the super mumbling that it was a bad idea to let me in and that he knew better.

  I feel tugging on my body and lash out. I go out swinging, the soft flesh under my knuckles feel good, releasing the tension in my shoulders. I’m not the fighter in our family; Chase won that award long ago. But I never back down either. I can feel my knuckles pop as I hit more flesh. I’m not even sure who I’m hitting or where I’m hitting them, I’m so enraged all I can see is red. I can hear the silence around the room begin to whirl with more voices, more feet shuffling around. I put up a good fight without feeling any returned hits and can’t help but smile knowing I still have it.

  It’s when I go to throw another punch that my arm doesn’t move. I yank my whole upper body and nothing. I look around me to see a frightened family, the ones in the photo frames, and a police officer in front of me. I try to turn my body to see what is behind me to have metal pinch into my wrists. Glancing over my shoulder, I see two uniformed officers behind me.

  The super is apologizing to the family as I am ushered out of my own fucking house.

  “Who put you up to this?” I yell, to only have a look of sympathy thrown back at me. The type of sympathy look that tells me that they think I am the crazy one.

  “Call Jerry, the old superintendent, he knows me!” I call out only to receive more looks of symp
athy.

  *

  After reading my rights they place me in a holding cell, and I demand to make my one phone call. The first cop I demand this to just laughs at me and shakes his head.

  The other cop just smiles at me and replies, “You know you hit an officer, right?”

  Ah fuck. I try to calm my breathing by letting a deep breath out through my mouth. I can’t sit. I try another deep breath before I get up, pacing the tiny eight-foot cell.

  “All right, pretty.”

  Did the cop just call me ‘pretty?’ My face must say it all as he answers my unspoken question.

  “That’s right, you are going to be one of the pretty ones in there.” He nods behind him. “I hope you will be able to hold your own once you get inside.” He gives me a wink and I feel sick.

  “So who am I calling for you, precious?”

  My hand whips down my face and scrubs my scruff to itch it. I should call my lawyer, but I’m a glutton for punishment.

  “Jewels Rogers.”

  He nods as I give him the number. The few seconds it takes to punch in the numbers feel like an hour before he passes me the old-school tightly coiled phone into the cell.

  Each passing ring causes me anxiety and I tap my foot impatiently. On the fourth ring, a man finally picks up.

  “Hello?”

  “Where is Jewels?” I growl into the phone.

  “I am betting this must be Tyson Bennett.”

  I pace the small amount the cord allows me. The cop ticks his watch, telling me to hurry up.

  “I need to talk to Jewels.”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “We were stompin’ through the yard this morning to check out this year’s stallions and mares and this tiny thing must have fallen out of her pocket. I’m amazed the muck or one of the animals didn’t stomp on it and ruin it. So when you hear from her be sure to let her know her ex, Trevor, has the pretty little phone all safe and sound, ya hear?”

  “Look, man, I have one phone call, I need to get ahold of her.”

  “She did have a way to pick ’em.” He has the audacity to chuckle. “I’ll let her know she needs to bail out her next project, no problem.”

  I want to jump through the phone line to strangle the son of a bitch but the line goes dead. Looking up, the cop has his finger on the off button and is smiling.

  “Hope that person plans on getting you out before it’s too late.” He smiles like he knows what my future holds.

  I go back to sit on the bench before I stand up for the hundredth time, not knowing what to do with myself. “Can you call my lawyer when you get the chance?” I call out to no one in particular.

  I hear a few chuckles and one mumbled comment on how I should have thought of that sooner.

  I’m in here for hours, and it’s warmer than hell in here. It’s like the A/C doesn’t come back here. The smells, which were obnoxiously strong when I first arrived, have been starting to fade, to the point where I hardly notice them. By now I realize there is no point in doing anything. So I am lying down on the little bench, in a fetal position because of its size. I can hear them talking before the sound of feet start coming my way. There have been two others already in and out of this cell. But I’m still here.

  “Right here, ma’am.”

  I huff. I didn’t realize they allowed women and men in the same cell.

  “Thank you.”

  I know that voice. It tugs at my heart, and I sit up immediately. I don’t have to see her to know that she is here.

  “Jewels.” Standing, I look at her beauty. “How?” I ask.

  “Trevor called Mandy who told me.” She smiles at me. “But finding which precinct you were in was another story.” She gives me an encouraging smile that I feel like I cannot match.

  Stepping out, the weather is hot and immediately my clothes stick to my already damp skin. Other than being happy to see her, I’m in a foul mood. I hate that she has an old rusty car, I hate that I have to duck my head when I get into it. I hate that I can practically feel the roof touching my head. I can’t help but stew over everything wrong right now as I tell her the details of what just happened.

  “You’ve been to my place, you know it is mine.” I shake my head more.

  “Turn here.” I point to the right. “No one does their due diligence anymore.”

  “Left.” I point down to another road. She listens, not saying too much.

  “You know, I could make you smile?”

  I make some unrecognizable sound as I tilt my chin up fully, disagreeing with her. I don’t even think a blowjob would do the trick.

  “Did you hear the world record for the biggest penis was just broken by some twenty-six-year-old who lives here in Texas?” she asks me, wiggling her eyebrows. I try to stop myself from rolling my eyes, unsuccessfully.

  “Do you want me to remind you what a big cock feels like again?” I ask sourly, but the idea is coming around to me. I know she’s only trying to lighten the mood, but talking about another dude’s dick does not help.

  “Think about it, it’s the size of both of my feet together. It’s so big you would have to use both hands and possibly a foot. Foot job?” she asks, still trying to get my lips to curl upward.

  Nope. I lift my eyebrow, still not impressed with where this conversation is going. It’s sad that she has resorted to foot job jokes.

  “I wonder, would he be like a super soaker when he comes.”

  I nearly choke on my spit when she says it and turn my head to watch her laugh. It’s hard to say if she’s laughing over what she said, my reaction, or that she thinks she’s funny.

  “See, I knew you had it in you.”

  I try to hide my smile, but ah fuck, she got me.

  “Okay, okay, you made me smile, Country.” I smirk at her knowing how much she hates that nickname.

  “Left.” I point to the small turnoff.

  “Where are we going?” she asks.

  “Andrea’s.” Now it’s her turn to lose that smile on her face.

  Chapter 19

  TYSON

  You could cut the tension with a knife in this moment in this tiny car. I adjust my seat so that I am sitting as far back as possible and I still can’t stretch out my legs fully. Now she knows how I feel about her seeing Trevor.

  I look over to her and her eyes are straight on the road but I can tell she is still watching me out of the corner of her eye. Her long strawberry blonde hair is highlighted by the late evening sun. A light dusting of freckles that I’ve never noticed before lie across her collarbone.

  For a redhead, she doesn’t have many of the typical redhead features. I don’t see any freckles on her face and her skin is a nice golden tan tone. But she does have those big ocean blue eyes.

  My gaze ventures down, admiring the tiny straps on her royal blue sundress, it almost matches her eyes perfectly. I continue taking all of her in, down to those long, toned legs. I love how they can wrap around me and hold their own against me when I’m on top of her. I can remember how she feels bucking underneath me. I have to hold back a groan. My cock is already giving me shit for not wanting to fuck her as soon as I got into this car. Why did I have to be such an ass?

  I keep stewing, hoping that she will ask why we are going to Andrea’s. I don’t want to be the first one to break this silent treatment we are giving each other. I can be patient when I need to be. I can wait her out.

  Then the house begins to come into view. It puts my parents’ place to shame. The rusty red brick mansion is clad with white trim has three large windows on either side of the door and boasts a double balcony that spans the full length. An American flag stands tall and proud on its pole in front of the house. The green flush grass ends only when it reaches a pond that is dotted with perfectly placed large trees around its edges. A lone car I don’t recognize sits off to the side. It catches my attention for only a second because it isn’t the typical flashy car I would expect to b
e sitting here.

  I bring my attention back to Jewels. I have to give her credit, she is a stubborn one. Her lips are pressed together as I see her getting more flustered with me not breaking the silence. For this once, I’ll help her out.

  “Want to know why we are here?” I cross my arms, smirking at her.

  “Nope.” The p makes a pop sound as she says it.

  Pulling her into me I say, “Oh, come on.” And hug her tight. “I just need to see what side she is on so I can make my next move.” I tilt my head so that I am able to see into her eyes.

  “Whatever, I’ll wait in the car.”

  Now it’s my turn to give her the look. “I think you can come in.”

  “Nope.” There is that popping sound again. I can see the twinkle in her eyes that show me that she likes getting under my skin.

  Fine, she can be like that. Before I let her go, I grab her tit and mold it into my hand before I take those pouting lips against mine. I can feel her nipple become hard under my touch, and I squeeze it as I intensify our kiss. Just as I feel like she is ready for more, I break from the kiss and give her that cocky grin she tells me she loves so much.

  “I’ll be right back.” Then I’m out of the car without looking back to see her reaction. I can feel her eyes on me the whole way to the door.

  Ringing the doorbell, I expect to see Mrs. Dash, the household caretaker, but am surprised to see Andrea opening the door herself. Her eyes are red and puffy and she isn’t wearing any makeup. A sight I have never seen before. Andrea has always been perfectly put together no matter what. I am pretty sure she wears her makeup to bed.

  She sees me and a sob breaks loose, one of those loud, uncontrollable sobs. Quickly, she turns around, mumbling her apologies while she goes to the formal living room. I’m lost for words and still surveying everything to make the right judgment call. I follow behind, feeling like I’m in uncharted territory.

  Stepping into the room, she blows her nose loudly, the sound echoing off the walls. That is when I notice two uniformed officers in her living room, looking very sympathetic to her.