Devin had mentioned the other night that she had been working hard on a couple of projects, throwing herself into her work rather than actually talking about Tobey or dealing with what had happened there.
I was glad that she wasn’t talking about the asshole because I wanted to kick Tobey’s little ass.
What the hell was wrong with him? Sure, maybe he hadn’t known that Amelia had feelings for him, but he’d hidden a girlfriend. If you were going to start hiding shit like that, there were reasons. Things that made Tobey not good enough for Amelia.
So, I was going to make sure she was okay. I had the night off and needed to eat dinner, so I was going to force her to eat my cooking.
We were friends, and we’d basically seen each other naked at this point. We’d slept in the same bed. I figured we’d passed the line into a new kind of friendship.
One where I could make her eat my cooking, and hope she didn’t look as exhausted as she had the last time I saw her.
I really wanted to kick Tobey’s ass.
I ignored the come-on from the lady in the pasta department, and the one from the man in the meat section—because that wasn’t a cliché or anything. Apparently, this time of the evening was when all the singles went out in my town to try and find a date. I’d have to think about that the next time I went out. Maybe I could find a date. And it would not be with Amelia. We were friends. Damn it.
I needed to stop having dreams about her. Fantasies about her and those very hot nipples. Ones that begged for my mouth.
Just as I imagined her mouth on my body as she had moved the towel away from me before going down to her knees. And that was enough of that.
I really did not need a hard-on as I drove toward Amelia’s house.
I pulled up into her driveway and went to get my groceries from the back.
Thankfully, I only had three big bags. Of course, they were the reusable bags that held a lot more stuff than the plastic ones, so I might’ve gone a little overboard. But Amelia needed groceries.
Or maybe Devin was simply being overprotective. After all, that’s what big brothers did.
I rang the doorbell and figured that I was either making a colossal mistake, or I was doing the right thing.
I wanted to do the right thing.
Amelia opened the door, and I held back a wince.
Her hair was a little greasy, piled up on the top of her head. She had dark circles under her eyes, and I swore she had lost at least ten pounds over the past couple of weeks.
She had on baggy sweats, a tank with no bra—damn her and those nipples!—and a zippered sweatshirt that she hadn’t zipped up. She wore no shoes, no makeup, and even though she still looked beautiful, she looked exhausted. And sad.
I wanted to hold her close and tell her that everything would be okay.
But because I couldn’t really do that, I was going to at least try to cook for her.
“Tucker?”
I grinned and pushed past her. I probably should’ve waited for an invitation, but I was afraid that she might not give me one, and I needed to take care of her. She needed to eat.
“I’m cooking you dinner.”
“Excuse me?”
I just grinned and acted like this was totally normal. It wasn’t normal at all.
I set the bags on the counter and smiled. “I’m cooking you dinner.”
“Why?”
“Because you need it. You need food. I need food. So, I’m making it.”
She folded her arms under her breasts, and it made the silken white skin of her mounds peek out from her tank a bit more.
Damn it. This was not going to help my dreams later.
“Because you feel bad for me, too?”
“No.”
That was the truth. I didn’t feel bad for her. I was angry, but there wasn’t any pity there. I didn’t feel bad at all.
She needed someone, and I was it.
“I don’t really believe you.”
“You don’t have to. But you’re going to eat my fucking cooking.”
“Well, that sounds nice.”
“I’m an amazing cook. Ask any of the women I’ve dated.” I winked, and she just rolled her eyes. But I saw humor there. Sometimes, a little self-deprecating humor helped.
“So, you’re good at breakfast?” she asked, and I shook my head.
“Dinner, honey. They never stay the night.”
“You are a manwhore.”
“Am not.”
“Yeah, that’s not what Devin says. Caleb, too. I think even Dimitri’s mentioned it.”
“Your brothers have a very low opinion of me, apparently.”
“My brothers love you.”
I let that settle into me and smiled. They were my family. And it was nice. I was going to make sure that Amelia knew she was loved, too. Even if I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. “Well, it doesn’t matter if my food is good or not, you’re going to eat it. However, I’m making pasta with clams and a nice wine sauce.”
“Oh, that sounds amazing. I never really eat clams or anything because Dimitri’s allergic.”
“Yeah, shellfish allergies are not something you want to take lightly. But I remember Devin mentioning that you weren’t allergic, so I figured this was fine.”
“I love clams. But you really don’t have to cook for me. I’ll be fine.”
“I already have everything here. And while I will take no for an answer if you really don’t want me here—I don’t want to be pushy—I don’t want you to say no.”
“You’re riding the line of being annoying, caring, sweet, and weird all at once. I don’t really know how that happens.”
“It’s not really a line then. More like a square. Or a circle.”
“I really sucked at geometry,” she said, shaking her head.
“You’re a landscape architect. How are you bad at geometry?”
“It just never made sense when it was on paper. The only thing that I really understood was the trapezoid.”
I paused, taking out the veggies from the bag as she came up to my side. “What do you mean, trapezoid?”
“Well, my teacher taught me that a trapezoid was like an open box that had a lid, and there was this alien called a zoid. And in order to trap the zoid, you had to put it in the box and close the lid. But when you did, the insides folded in a bit. Hence, the trapezoid.”
I looked at her, blinking, and then turned my head back and laughed.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I know. But I remembered it because of that. And I know that when I have children, I will help them learn what a trapezoid is from that thing I learned so many years ago. But, no, I didn’t like geometry in school, even though I love the idea of it now. At least, I think I do.”
“Well, you’re brilliant, just so you know.” I leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. She blushed, shaking her head.
“Yeah, not so brilliant sometimes. But thanks for coming over. I guess I should actually leave the house other than for work, but I don’t usually feel like it.” She shrugged and stuffed her hands into her sweater pockets.
“You don’t have to leave the house if you don’t want to. It’s okay to have people come to you. I know Devin’s busy with Erin. I haven’t really seen them often. Zoey’s busy, too.”
“I know,” Amelia said, shrugging again. “It’s kind of hard to figure out what to say to Zoey sometimes anyway.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“About relationships? You know, I shouldn’t really talk about that. It’s not my business, and I’m afraid if I do, it’ll sound like gossip.”
I nodded, putting that tidbit of information away for later. “I get you. But if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Now, the subjects we can talk about are Avengers movies, work, animals, plants, and cookie dough.” I quickly listed off the things, and she snorted.
“That’s a very odd list.”
“Well, since I just came up with it off th
e top of my head as I was speaking to you, it’s a list that works.”
“I still don’t know why you’re doing this,” she said, coming up beside me to help me wash some of the produce.
“I don’t know why I’m doing it either,” I said honestly, my voice a whisper.
She let out a sigh beside me and then rested her head on my upper arm. “He was my friend, Tucker. I used to do this with him all the time. And now I’m afraid I’ll never be able to do it again.”
I ignored the comparison. “Yeah, well, your friend was kind of a dick.”
“No, he wasn’t.” Even though she said the words, they didn’t really ring true. I didn’t think she actually believed them.
“Yeah, he was a dick. But I’ll be your friend now. Got it?”
“Uh, no. You can’t simply declare yourself my friend. Yes, we’re friends, but you can’t move in to that position.”
“I totally believe I did. So, you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
She gave me a weird look and shook her head again. “I don’t understand you, Tucker.”
I went to fill a pot with water and pasta, and then turned to look at her. “I don’t understand me sometimes either. But it’s what I do. I sort of inserted myself into Devin’s life when we were younger, too, and look how that turned out.”
“You did?” she asked, helping me chop tomatoes.
“Yeah. I don’t even remember how it started, but he hung out with me enough at school that we became friends. When he invited me over one day, I didn’t want to leave.”
Amelia snorted. “You didn’t want to leave our house? Do you not remember the yelling?”
I reached out and squeezed her shoulder before going back to cooking, not looking at her.
“I do. But your parents were pretty good when I was there.”
“At first, because you were company. And then you weren’t company anymore, you were practically one of the kids. And that meant someone had to feed you, and Dad got all pissed off at that.” Amelia just rolled her eyes. “Dimitri always made sure we were good, though. He was so much older that it never felt weird. I mean, it was worse for the rest of them, I think. I had my big brothers to take care of me.”
“You have a great family. And it’s only growing as the guys get married.”
“I know, right? I wish things had been different with my parents, but we can’t go back and fix it.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” I said, sautéing garlic.
“Yeah, at least I had my brothers, and my dad stayed around as long as he did, you know?”
“I do. Foster care wasn’t always bad. I found some good homes when I was younger, and then had a decent one for a while. But no one really wanted a kid with asthma—medical bills and all that. Plus, I had some pretty serious and stupid night terrors when I was a kid.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“I told Devin, but he was really good at keeping my secrets, you know?”
“My brothers are the best.”
“Yeah. They are.” It was something I needed to remind myself if I was going to hang out with Amelia like this.
“So, night terrors?”
I shook myself out of my reverie and smiled down at her. “Yeah. Just vivid dreams. I don’t even remember what they were about. I have vivid dreams now, too, though. Like as a kid.”
“Really? Are they scary?”
Probably shouldn’t have mentioned those dreams. “Sometimes.”
Sometimes, they weren’t scary at all. I really needed to shift the conversation.
“So, do you like garlic?”
“I love garlic. Although I’m really glad that we’re not dating and are only friends. Because you aren’t really supposed to have garlic on dates.”
I raised a brow at her. “Oh, I bet if we went on a date, I could eat all the garlic I wanted. And you’d still want to kiss me.” I said it so jokingly that she rolled her eyes.
“Ego much?”
“You know it. However, eat all the garlic you want. I promise to keep my mouth off you.”
“You’re such a giver,” she said, pushing another clove of garlic at me.
“I try.”
And I was trying. I was trying really hard to stop thinking about Amelia the way I was. If we kept like we were, remained in our friendship in this new iteration, it could work out. Because Amelia needed stability. She needed friends.
And I sure as hell didn’t need the complication of wanting Devin’s sister.
Chapter 7
Amelia
Hands slid over my hips, slowly, methodically, before running up my sides to cup my breasts, callused thumbs flicking over my hard nipples. I arched my back, wanting more, needing more.
I spread my thighs, letting him sink between my legs, his pelvis pressed against mine even though he didn’t slide all the way in.
Instead, he rested against me, slowly playing with me, leading me into temptation.
And, oh how I begged for it.
He lowered his mouth, his tongue pressing firmly against my nipple before swallowing and sucking on my breasts. He paid attention to both of them, never leaving one cold.
My body ached, and I arched for him, wanting to reach between my legs and get myself off, or grab the base of him and lead him to my center. I wanted him inside me.
I needed him.
But he had tied my arms above my head, securing them to the wrought iron of my bed.
He had brought the silk ties himself—so considerate.
And then he had used another tie to cover my eyes, to lead me into this new trust exercise that I hadn’t even known we’d be trying.
But he had been so gentle and sweet about it, yet so demanding.
And I had let him strip me bare, let him cover me with himself as he lapped and licked between my legs.
When he lifted his head, I heard him smack his lips together, and I smiled.
But then, he’d pierced me with two fingers, and I called out his name.
I called it out, but I couldn’t hear it.
Had I screamed?
Or only moaned?
I couldn’t see him, but I could feel him. His breath was on my neck, then my breasts, then between my legs as he lapped at me again, sucking and biting and playing with my clit. I came for him, and then he was inside me, one quick thrust that sent shockwaves of heat through my body. My nipples ached, more than they ever had before.
I wanted more, wanted him to fuck me hard into the bed until I screamed his name over and over again.
Tucker. Tucker. Tucker.
I opened my eyes, my hands between my legs, my panties long gone, my sheets a tangle on the edge of the bed. I froze.
“Dear God.”
I slid my hand out from between my legs.
My clit was a hard nub, my lower lips swollen with need. But I refused to come right then.
I would not give myself an orgasm to a dream of Tucker Reinhard.
He was my brother’s best friend. Yes, he had seen me virtually naked, and I had practically seen him naked. But I would not be having orgasmic dreams about him, thank you very much.
I found my panties tangled with my sheets and wiped my fingers, trying not to feel too embarrassed at how wet he’d gotten me just in my dreams.
It probably wasn’t even Tucker.
He was simply the last guy I’d thought of before bed because I was thinking about dinner—not about having sex with him.
I was not going to have sex with Tucker. Ever.
Everything was fine. I wasn’t losing my mind. And I did not want him.
It was only a weird dream. I was probably having sex with an Avenger or one of the Chrises while they were in my head.
I had a thing for Marvel, way more than DC. But then again, so did most of my friends. That was what happened when Marvel made the best movies.
And if I kept thinking about Marvel and Chris Evans versus Chris Hemsworth, I wouldn’t actually stress the
fuck out when it came to having a weird-ass dream about Tucker Reinhard.
Because I would not be having that dream again, thank you very much.
And I hadn’t gotten myself off.
The fact that my nipples ached and my core kept pulsing as if I were right on the edge, seemed to mock me.
Of course, I was almost ready to come just at the thought of him.
Fuck that. It wasn’t him. It was all a dream. All me. I had been the one having that dream, I did that.
Not Tucker. Oh, he might say he screwed with women, and he probably did with his dates, but none of them had stuck.
Maybe he was lousy in bed.
His lack of women had to be proof of him being totally lousy. Right?
I quickly jumped in the shower, turning the water to cold, and cursed his name as well as my own as I quickly washed my hair and body.
I washed between my legs and was quick about it. There would be no accidental clit touching.
There were rules about that.
At least, in my head.
I’d officially lost my mind. I wasn’t sure if it had started before I professed my love to Tobey or after.
Who knew? I was over it all.
I hated the fact that Tobey had made me cry. That he had made me fall into myself and treated me like someone he didn’t know.
I didn’t know what would happen next with him, but what had happened to us already was a little concerning. While it was my fault in some ways, he had pushed me away, too. And I didn’t know how we could come back from that. Or if we ever would.
I shrugged, trying to ignore the ache in my belly, and quickly pulled on my winter clothes, chilled even though I had the heat on blast.
But that’s what happened when a cold snap hit Denver, and you were a landscape architect.
You had to double up on clothing and pray that things would work out well in the greenhouse.
Thankfully, I had a lot of paperwork to do today and a few meetings. Maybe if I were lucky, things would work out well, and I wouldn’t have to be outside for too long. I loved the outdoors more than most anything in my life, but it was way too cold for that today.
There were reasons for the colder than a witch’s tit saying, and I was grateful that I had worn two tanks under my Henley. Because, dear God. Apparently, it wasn’t Tucker making my nipples hard, it was the breeze. See? I could laugh about it now. Not that I actually planned to tell him about that at all. I wasn’t even sure I could face him with that kind of dream in my mind.
Reckless With You Page 7