“That’s fine.”
I make a call to his phone and wait for it to ring once. “That’s me. Now you have my number too.”
“I was just about to ask you for it.” He takes his phone out and begins typing, a smile spreading across his face. “Wren Thorn. Adding you to my contacts now.”
He’s leaving so do I go for the handshake? The hug? Or what I really want? Dammit. We danced as close as dry-humping teenagers an hour ago. I don’t want to do the goodnight-handshake thing.
I settle for less than I’d like and go in for the middle ground, a hug, all the time hoping it’ll lead to more. “I had a great time today.”
“I had fun today too.”
I turn my face so he’ll feel my warm breath against his neck. “I’m glad you talked me into sticking around.”
God, he smells good. Woodsy. Masculine. I could stand here sniffing him all night.
He moves and his facial scruff scrapes the side of my face, detonating a path of goose bumps down my body. Damn. He barely grazed me. My body would probably go into convulsions if he touched me for real.
It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. I’m grasping at straws here.
“I’m glad you stayed.”
Is he really? Or is he being polite? I can’t tell.
We’re approaching that awkward moment where something has to happen. Let go or take it further. What’s it going to be?
We simultaneously release one another and step apart. No kiss. And that’s disappointing as hell. I would have enjoyed a goodnight kiss from him.
I cross my arms so he doesn’t see my erect nipples through my T-shirt. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it.” I watch him from the door for a moment and then close it. I don’t want to watch him walk away.
What the fuck just happened?
He could have sent the driver on if he wanted to stay. And he didn’t.
I gave him the perfect opportunity to kiss me. And he didn’t.
I don’t know how I could have been so wrong about him. Is it possible I misinterpreted the way we danced? I might say yes, but there’s no way I misread the way he placed his mouth so close to my skin. Unless he’s a huge flirt and had no intention of following through with anything beyond teasing.
I know Ollie is busy being someone else’s hero but right now I need him to be mine.
Lawrence: Is Lucas dating anyone?
Lucas as Oliver: No.
Lawrence: We spent the day together. I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. I like him.
Lucas as Oliver: Really?
Lawrence: Yes, really. Is there something wrong with liking him?
Lucas as Oliver: No.
Lawrence: Can you give me something besides a one-word response?
Lucas as Oliver: I guess.
Lawrence: Smart ass.
Lucas as Oliver: I’m sure he enjoyed spending the day with you too.
Lawrence: He brought me back to your apt. I wanted him to kiss me but it didn’t happen. I guess he’s not interested. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo like everyone else does.
One minute ticks by. Three. Five. No response from my brother. He’s gone back into the land of radio silence. Correspondence was nice while it lasted.
“It’s late and I’m tired. I’m not sitting up half the night waiting for you to message me back, Ollie.” Based on his average response time the last couple of weeks, I might hear back from him in three or four days.
I go into the guest room and change into my boxers and camisole. I’m almost finished brushing my teeth when the doorbell rings. It’s late. Who the hell is here this time of night?
This isn’t my place so whoever is at the door isn’t here for me. Probably some damn hoochie looking to hook up with Ollie.
I seriously consider not answering the door until I hear the bell again. I guess she sees the light on and assumes Ollie is here. She probably isn’t going away.
I crack open the door with the intention of turning away a strange woman, but instead I find Lucas standing on the other side. “Hang on a second.”
I shut the door and unlatch the chain. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I forgot something.”
He never made it inside so I can’t imagine how he could have left anything behind. He must mean on a different visit to see Ollie.
I open the door wider so he can enter. He shuts it behind him and stops in front of me, his eyes roaming my body. The way he’s looking at me is… something I’ve not seen in a long time.
“What did you forget?” My voice breaks on the last word.
“This.” He steps toward me, so close that his chest touches mine, and his palms cradle each side of my face. Our lips meet one another for the first time. And it’s a beautiful introduction.
Our kiss is close-mouthed at first but every motion brings our lips closer to opening. And then—bam. His wet, velvety tongue touches mine and together the two waltz a slow, seductive dance intended only for lovers.
He pushes me backward and I’m pressed firmly against the wall just like one of the fantasies I had about us in my head earlier. Is he a mind reader?
I’m trapped, but I’m not scared. His firm grip is different from Xavier’s. He’s aggressive, but in a good way. There’s a difference.
His hands leave my face and glide down my sides. They creep around and he grips my butt cheeks, his fingertips digging into my flesh.
“Ohh.” The faint sound escapes my mouth in a whisper. Softly. Delicately. But his reaction to hearing it isn’t.
His hands move down the backs of my thighs and he lifts. My legs instantly wrap around his waist with my back pressed harder against the wall. “You are so fucking sexy.”
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze tightly, pulling him closer. As the next several seconds pass, we stare at each other and share the same breath.
His eyes are blue but very different from mine. There are streaks of gold and a paler shade of blue surrounding his pupil, reminding me of rays around the sun.
He closes his eyes and bites his bottom lip before leaning in to press his forehead against mine. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
What? I liked everything that he was doing.
“I disagree. I think you should keep going.”
He loosens his hold and lowers me until my feet meet the floor. I reach for the sides of his face, but he grasps my wrists and shakes his head from side to side. “Don’t.”
Wait, what? I’m confused.
Did I misinterpret something?
Our kiss… how else would one interpret it?
He came back to me. He’s the one who initiated this. And now he’s backing out.
He’s rejecting me.
I drop my arms and turn my head to the side because I can’t bear to look into those damn orbs of blue calcite. I suck in, trying to shrink into the wall. Disappear. Get away. No success.
He remains so close that I can smell the mixture of cologne and dried sweat on his skin. He smells the way a man should, so delicious that I could lick him.
“I don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“There’s no misunderstanding. You were very clear about wanting me to stop when you grabbed my wrists.”
He steps away and places his hands on his hips, shaking his head as he sighs loudly. “Shit.”
My heart plummets because I can see that he regrets kissing me. “We’ll pretend it didn’t happen.”
“It isn’t possible to pretend that a kiss like that didn’t happen.”
This feels like some kind of riddle I can’t solve. “I don’t understand.”
“I shouldn’t have kissed you. It only makes me want you more, which isn’t an option. You’re off-limits.”
Off-limits? “Says who?”
“Oliver.”
That pisses me off so badly. Apparently, I’m the only one of us who believes in the adult-sibling respect rule. “My brother doesn’t get
a say in who does and doesn’t touch me.”
“He does when it comes to me.”
“Because you’re business partners?”
“He’s been very clear about his feelings regarding a relationship between us. It could cause problems in our partnership.”
“But I’d never met you until today.”
“We had a conversation about you some time ago. He told me that if you ever came to visit, I wasn’t to touch you.”
“But you did touch me.”
“I know, I know.” Lucas looks away. “But I shouldn’t have.”
“So we’re going to pretend that none of this happened so we can appease my brother?”
“We have to.”
Then there’s no reason for me to stay. “All right. I’ll go home in the morning.”
“Please don’t go.”
Dammit, why is this man so confusing? “It’ll be easier to pretend that none of this happened if I’m four hundred miles away.”
He laces his fingers together and clasps them over the top of his head. “I don’t want you to go but it’s probably best.”
I lift my chin a little higher when I offer my hand. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Broussard.”
He takes my hand in his and the simple touch makes my heart speed. “The pleasure was mine, Miss Thorn.”
9
Lucas Broussard
The devil is perched on my shoulder whispering in my ear. What are you doing, you stupid motherfucker? You had her shoved against the wall with your hands on her ass. And she loved it. You could be between her legs right now if you’d played your cards right. But you didn’t. You took the pussy’s way out.
I’m pretty sure Lawrence was going to let me fuck her. And I walked away. I. Walked. Away. She’ll never know how hard that was for me.
I did the right thing. I don’t question that for a moment, so why do I feel so miserable? Shouldn’t I be proud of myself?
The devil leans in closer and whispers in my ear again. You’re miserable because you’ll be jacking off tonight instead of fucking a gorgeous blonde. You should turn this car around and go back to her.
I would love nothing more than to say fuck it and go back to her. When she opened the door, I’d throw her over my shoulder and carry her to the bedroom. I’d toss her on the bed and worship her body from head to toe. I’d make her come over and over.
I really need to get home so I can take care of myself.
I look at my phone and wish like hell she’d text me.
Come back. I don’t care what Ollie thinks or says. I want you.
I long to see her text those words to my phone.
There’s not a bit of doubt in my mind. If she asked me to come back, I would. I wouldn’t be able to resist Lawrence Thorn again if my life depended on it.
A familiar ping alerts me to a new text.
Lawrence: Where are you? I need you.
Shit. There it is—a message from Lawrence. But not the one that I was hoping to get.
Lucas as Oliver: What up, sis?
Lawrence: You told Lucas to stay away from me? Why?
Dammit. Why’d she have to ask that? That damn little devil is still on my shoulder whispering in my ear. She thinks the messages she’s been receiving from this phone are from her brother. You can say anything and she’ll believe you. Take advantage. Let her believe that she has her brother’s blessing.
By texting her on Oliver’s behalf, I’ve been lying to Wren. My words have been of little consequence so far but this is different. It’s a serious kind of deceit. And I can’t do that to her.
Lucas as Oliver: Lucas isn’t for you.
It’s killing me to tell her that but let’s be honest. It’s exactly what Oliver would say.
Lawrence: How would you know?
Lucas as Oliver: I know him and how he is. You don’t.
Lawrence: And I guess I never will. Thanks a lot.
Lucas as Oliver: Trust me. It’s no great loss.
Lawrence: I really like him.
She really likes me? Shit. Now I really want to turn this Suburban around again.
But seeing the proof of her liking me changes nothing. She’s still Oliver’s sister. He’s still my partner. And she’s still off-limits.
Lucas as Oliver: Don’t be mad.
Lawrence: I am mad. But I still love you. Good night. BTW, I’m going home in the morning. No reason to stay.
I’ve shared more I-love-you’s with Lawrence Thorn in the last couple of weeks than anyone else in my life. Ever. I thought the words would feel empty. They were intended for someone I didn’t know and from someone other than myself although I was the one typing them. Oddly, I haven’t grown immune to them at all. I feel a little jab to the heart every time I tell her. And I think there may be a bit of a twist to the jab now that I’ve met her.
Lucas as Oliver: Good night and drive safely tomorrow. Love you too.
Shit. Lawrence doesn’t have her car. She’ll need a ride to get it in the morning. I’m the one who convinced her to leave it, so doesn’t that make me responsible for making sure she gets it back?
I get to see her one more time before she leaves. I’m not mad about that.
Lucas: Call me when you’re ready to leave tomorrow. I’ll pick you up and take you to your car.
Lawrence: Thanks, but I know how busy you’ll be with the festival. I can call a cab. Probably easier that way anyway.
Lucas: Please. I want to see you again before you go.
Lawrence: I’m planning to leave early. I don’t want to inconvenience you.
Lucas: Early isn’t a problem.
Lawrence: OK.
Lucas: See you then.
The driver lets me out of the Suburban at the entrance to the festival—which is a wreck. Plastic cups and napkins litter the grounds. Do people not know what a fucking trashcan is for?
I find Porter and the Iron City gang at our booth straightening the disarray. “Well, this is a damn mess.”
“You missed the last-call rush. It was fucking crazy. Where’d you disappear to?”
“I had to take Lawrence to Oliver’s apartment.”
Porter stops and glares at me. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. We’re all here working our asses off, and you’re off trying to get laid by our business partner’s sister?”
He may not be far off from the truth, but I still want to punch Porter in the face for talking that way where Lawrence is involved. No part of my personal life should ever be an announcement for him to make in front of our staff.
“I need to see you privately.”
Porter tosses the towel in his hand on the table. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
I walk until I’m certain we’re out of earshot. “What the hell was that all about?”
“You’ve been with Lawrence all day.”
“I fulfilled every single one of my job duties today. I landed four new accounts today, big ones I might add, and I’m set to get more tomorrow. I made rounds on every guest brewery, some twice. I judged the home-brew competition and did a damn good job of picking the best one, according to you. Name one way I failed Iron City today.”
“You missed last call.”
“What has crawled up your ass and laid eggs?”
“Oliver won’t like what you’re doing with his sister.” And it looks as though Porter doesn’t like it either.
“I’m not doing anything with Lawrence except watching over her and making her feel welcome. Would you have me ghost her instead?”
“Make sure it’s nothing more than that because this company can’t afford a fallout between you and Oliver over her.”
I don’t owe Porter an explanation about anything that happens between Lawrence and me, but I wouldn’t mind getting him off my back. “Oliver and I have had the Lawrence conversation, and I understand his position on the situation. She’s off-limits. I get it.”
“Glad to hear it. Now let’s get this placed cleaned up so we can go home, sleep
fast, and be back to do it again tomorrow.”
It was two in the morning when I finally rolled into bed but sleep didn’t find me easily. However, visions of Lawrence in that camisole with no bra did. I wanted to grope her tits so badly and rub my thumbs back and forth over her hard nipples pushing against the fabric of her top. I went for her sweet round ass first with the intention of moving on to those perky tits next.
Didn’t happen.
I grew a hard-on and then a fucking conscience. Bad combination.
I bet I barely got three hours of sleep last night, but I’m up and ready for her call at any time.
Lawrence: I’m ready.
Lucas: Be there in ten.
Lawrence: OK.
Lawrence opens the door and I’m blown away by how beautiful she is. Not because she’s dressed up and wearing a ton of makeup. Total opposite. She’s barefaced with a single braid down the middle of her back. Natural beauty.
I hold up the bag of coffee and box of tea I picked up on the way over. “Both organic. Think you have time for a cup before you have to go?”
Or two cups? Maybe three? I’ll take whatever time she’s willing to give me.
“I think I can stick around long enough to have a cup of tea.”
I follow her into the kitchen and she holds up both boxes. “Which would you prefer?”
I don’t care. Whichever will take longer. “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.”
She opens the box of chai tea and takes out two bags. “What time did you get home last night?”
“Two.”
“Good grief. What time did you get up?”
“Six.”
I sit at the dining table and watch her flutter around the kitchen like a graceful butterfly.
“Ouch. Only four hours of sleep?”
I wish I’d had four hours of sleep. “It was actually more like two.”
“What happened?”
“I was wound pretty tight last night.” As was my hand around my cock as I fantasized about what you might look like beneath that little cami you were wearing.