by Elle Kennedy
There were so many unsettling details being thrown around he didn’t know which one to focus on.
“What are you talking about? Chris was always going to work for a defense firm. It was the only reason he went to law school, so he could practice criminal law.”
She frowned. “No, he didn’t. He was committed to the city job. When we first met it was all he could talk about.”
“I know he got an offer, but trust me, he never intended to accept. It’s always been his dream to be a big-shot defense lawyer.”
Her teeth clamped over her bottom lip. Another silence fell over the room as each of them absorbed what had been said.
“Were you—”
“Are you—”
They both laughed awkwardly. “You first,” Dylan said.
“Were you really in the dark about all this?”
“Yes.” He gave her a grim look. “If I’d known, I would have been doing everything in my power to help my mom out. Why the hell didn’t she tell me?”
Even as he voiced the thought, he already knew the answer. Because he was her favorite. Her baby. His mom had tried to shield him from heartache his entire life, painting the world to him as a place full of sunshine and rainbows and cuddly kittens. He was always the last one to find out when something bad happened, and there had been times when he wouldn’t be told at all, only to discover the truth years later.
“Maybe she was trying to protect you.”
Claire’s soft assessment was spot-on, and though he concurred, that didn’t make this situation any less insulting.
“So Chris has been making the mortgage payments this last year?” Dylan asked, still trying to make sense of it all.
Claire nodded.
“What about my mom and the, um, gambling? Has she stopped? Like really stopped?”
“She claims she has, and I haven’t seen any signs that she’s relapsed. She’s also been looking for a new job.”
He rubbed the stubble coating his chin, momentarily distracted by the three days’ worth of beard growth beneath the pads of his fingers. He wasn’t used to his face feeling so damn prickly.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Claire’s eyes shone with remorse. “And all this time, I…” She trailed off.
He swallowed. “You what?”
“I blamed you for the changes I saw in Chris. I thought he took that job because it paid more and he needed to support your mom, and then as time passed, he went from this fun, passionate man looking to change the world, to a stiff, pretentious man who only wanted to golf and smoke cigars with his colleagues.”
Dylan sighed. “He’s always been stiff and pretentious, Claire. I have no idea how that happened, considering both my parents were so easygoing and so quick to laugh. I guess I took after them, but Chris, well, I don’t know how he got to be so serious and conservative. But he’s also incredibly shrewd.”
“What does that mean?” she asked warily.
“It means he’s a smooth operator when it comes to women. He’ll tell you whatever you want to hear, do whatever it takes to impress you. I’m guessing he sensed you were passionate about certain issues, so he spun you a tale about working for the city and fighting for the little guy. And you said you like to get wild sometimes, right? Well, I bet at first, he took you to all sorts of fun places—dinner, dancing, weekend getaways. Am I right?”
There was sadness in her eyes as she nodded.
“Chris is not a party dude, honey. He hates clubs or crowds or going anywhere that doesn’t serve twelve-year-old scotch.”
“How come I never saw it?”
“Like I said, he’s smooth. Always has been.”
Dylan experienced a pang of sympathy when he noticed how upset she looked. He was pretty upset himself. Still reeling from the shock of discovering his mother had gambled away her life savings and nearly lost her house. Their house, the one Dylan had grown up in, the one filled with so many great memories of his dad.
But his heart went out to Claire too. Chris had totally played her, and knowing that spurred another realization.
“So wait, all those times you and Chris visited here or when I came to San Francisco, all those barbed remarks you made about money and my mom needing to get a job…” He let out a heavy breath. “You’re not a materialistic bitch at all, are you? And you don’t care that my mom was a housewife for most of her life, do you?”
A startled laugh flew out of her mouth. “Um, no. I won’t deny I was bitchy to you whenever I saw you, but that was because I was watching my fiancé work his ass off while his selfish younger brother was man-whoring it up in San Diego.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m a SEAL first, manwhore second. I work my ass off, Claire.”
She had the decency to look sheepish. “I know. It was just easier to hate you when I focused on your partying nature.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, since we’re making confessions, I guess I have another one.”
“I can’t wait to hear it.” She smiled the first genuine smile she’d ever given him, and damned if it didn’t light up her face and transform her from beautiful to utterly exquisite.
“Even when I believed you were a snooty bitch, I still thought you were the hottest woman I’d ever laid eyes on.” He shrugged, a touch embarrassed. “I think I clung to that feeling of dislike because it made it easier not to lust after you. I mean, we could have hashed this out months ago, but I never took the time to dig under the surface with you. I guess I was using not liking you as my excuse to not pant over my brother’s girl.”
“Wow. Aidan was right. You really are the most honest man on the planet.”
“It’s my fatal flaw.”
“Honesty is a strength, not a flaw.” She paused for a moment. “You thought I was hot?”
The pink flush on her cheeks made him grin. “Not thought. I still think it.”
“You do?”
“Fuck, Claire, you’re gorgeous. You know that, right?”
“I don’t give much thought to my appearance, if I’m being honest.”
“Well, you should. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, and I’m sure Aidan would agree with me. Neither of us can take our eyes off you.”
Claire sighed at the mention of Aidan. “Damn him. He was right to lock us in here, wasn’t he? If he hadn’t, neither of us would know the truth about…well, about everything.”
“Yeah, he has this annoying habit of always being right. Drives me bat-shit crazy.”
She laughed again, then she slid off the mattress in the blink of an eye.
Dylan raised his eyebrows as he watched her kneel on the floor next to the bed. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I just remembered what Aidan said about provisions. I want to see what that jerk deemed necessary for our survival.”
She stuck her arm underneath the bed and felt around for the mysterious box, which caused her ass to jut out in the most delectable way. Dylan’s gaze homed in on her firm butt cheeks, hugged by tiny denim shorts. Lord, she had the sexiest body he’d ever seen. He suddenly had the most overpowering urge to strip her clothes off and find out if she looked as spectacular naked as he suspected she did.
A moment later she was back on the bed, dropping a milk-crate-sized cardboard box on the mattress. She opened the flaps and peered inside with the curiosity of a kid unwrapping a present on Christmas morning.
“So what do we have here…” She pulled out two sandwiches in clear plastic wrap. “Okay, we’ve got some sandwiches.” Next came a bottle of water, followed by the container of Shelby’s cupcakes.
Dylan watched with amusement as she continued her inventory.
“Oooh, a crossword book. And…a first-aid kit. Why would we need a first-aid kit?”
“Maybe he thought we’d beat the shit out of each other and one of us would need stitches.”
“Maybe.” She reached into the box again, coming up with a paperback copy of War and Peace. A quizzical expression
crossed her face. “Um, okay.”
Dylan groaned. “Bastard. He likes to make fun of me because I’ve never been able to get past the first ten pages.”
With another laugh, she went to grab the next item.
Her face went tomato-red when her hand emerged with a box of condoms.
“Magnums,” Dylan remarked with a pleased nod. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe he left us condoms.”
“I can, and it was damn thoughtful of him too.” Dylan couldn’t control the seductive note that crept into his voice. “So what do you say, honey, should we tear one open and put it to good use?”
Chapter Eight
The worst thing about being a redhead with fair skin? It was impossible to disguise a blush. Claire’s cheeks had been a thorn in her side her whole life, and as her face heated up under Dylan’s smoldering gaze, she knew she was transmitting everything she was feeling loud and clear.
Surprise.
Embarrassment.
Arousal.
Oh yeah, there was definitely arousal thrown into the mix. Ever since they’d kissed, she’d been trying to squash the desire she felt for Dylan, but now that her misconceptions about the man had been exposed, she was having a tough time controlling her hormones. It was one thing to ignore the attraction when she’d thought he was a selfish ass who didn’t give a shit about his mother’s troubles, another one altogether when she knew he was actually a decent guy.
“Ah, relax, honey. I’m just teasing you.” His gorgeous green eyes twinkled. “I was kidding.”
She slanted her head in challenge. “Are you? Because you look pretty darn serious.”
After a second, he broke out in a grin. “Fine, so I was only half-kidding.”
“So half of you wants us to have sex?”
“Actually, about three-quarters of me wants it. One-quarter knows it’s probably a bad idea.”
“Probably?” She choked out a laugh. “I almost married your brother, Dylan.”
“And yet somehow that doesn’t seem to bother me anymore.”
“Right. Somehow.” She snorted. “It’s easy to overlook the reasons you shouldn’t do something when you want it badly enough.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t what?”
“Want it.” His lips quirked. “Because you’ve been giving off come-hither signals since the second you saw that box of condoms.”
“Again with the come-hither signals? You really like saying the words come-hither, huh?”
“And you’re deflecting. Answer the question. Do you want to have sex with me?”
His frankness was oddly thrilling. So was the way he slid closer, eliminating the distance between them. He moved the box of provisions out of the way, then scooted even closer, and Claire’s heart began to race. Their thighs were touching, his covered by sweatpants, hers bare thanks to her short-shorts, and the heat of his body sizzled her flesh, eliciting a rush of excitement that rippled through her blood.
“Yes, no, maybe?” he prompted.
It was in that moment that Claire realized how honesty might be considered a weakness rather than a strength, because the word “Yes” slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
But damn it, she did want this. Dylan had set her entire body on fire from that one measly kiss—she could only imagine what he was capable of doing to her if they were naked.
Maybe it made her a mega slut and a terrible person, but she really, really wanted to find out.
As his mouth curved in a satisfied smile, Dylan brought his hand to her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“You’re always blushing.” He cocked his head pensively. “Is that blush limited to your cheeks, though? Or do other parts of you get nice and rosy too? Maybe here, you think?”
He glided his fingers along the curve of her neck and down to her collarbone.
As if on cue, heat suffused her chest.
“Oh, that’s nice.” His green eyes were focused intently on the flush rising just above the neckline of her tank top.
The pads of his fingers were rough, callused, creating a gentle scrape over her skin as he caressed the upper swell of her breasts.
“This is crazy,” she murmured.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
He withdrew his hand. “I’ll stop then.”
Disappointment spiraled through her, and God help her, but her lips formed a squeaky protest. Yes, this was crazy. Yes, sleeping with Chris’s brother would be highly inappropriate. But she wanted it to happen. She needed it to happen.
“Claire?” His expression was expectant.
“You know the night I caught you kissing Aidan?” she heard herself blurting out.
“How can I forget?” he said dryly.
“That night…what I saw…” She tried to articulate her jumbled thoughts. “The two of you were completely wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world around you. It was passionate and intense and it made me kind of sad because I’d never experienced anything that even came close to that.” She swallowed. “And I was so turned on afterwards.”
He looked incredibly intrigued. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His voice lowered to a husky pitch. “Did you make yourself come when you went back to your room?”
“Yes.”
A groan rumbled out of his chest. “Aw, fuck, Claire, that’s hot. You were fingering yourself while I was in the living room twenty feet away?”
“Yes.”
She should have been mortified confessing all this to him, yet it was impossible to feel embarrassed when Dylan was looking at her with such unadulterated lust. When her gaze lowered to his groin, she made out the unmistakable ridge of his erection, and a resulting rush of moisture soaked her panties.
“Did you come hard?” he rasped. “Was it good?”
She met his sultry gaze. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Hmmm. Challenge accepted.”
“Of course you’d see that as a challenge,” she said with shaky laugh. “But yeah…watching the two of you like that…it showed me what I was lacking in my own life.”
“Where are you going with this?”
She inhaled a deep breath. “I guess what I’m saying is that I want to experience…well, passion.” A wry note entered her voice. “And since we’re trapped in here for the next couple of hours, I guess having sex wouldn’t be a totally preposterous idea.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? Because I was on board from the second you pulled out those condoms.”
The grin he flashed her was contagious. “That’s because you’re a man. Women need some time to rationalize before they jump into things.”
“So are you done rationalizing?”
She pondered that. “I think so.”
“Good. Now come here and kiss me.”
“Come wher—” She yelped in delight as he hauled her onto his lap.
She grabbed his shoulders and clutched the sleeves of his T-shirt, moaning when he tugged on her ponytail to yank her head down. The second their lips met, heat unraveled inside her and danced along her flesh. He kissed her like a man possessed, his tongue sliding inside her mouth with a greedy thrust, robbing her of breath.
Passion. There it was. Surrounding her. Consuming her. She’d never been kissed like this before. Except…wait, that wasn’t true, because she’d experienced this very same thrill the other night when she’d kissed him. This time, however, there was no doubt in her mind that he was attracted to women—the hard cock pressing against her ass was all the evidence she needed.
Dylan continued to drive her wild with his mouth, his tongue, his teeth as he nibbled on her bottom lip before sucking on it. His hands traveled down the bumps of her spine, callused fingers snaking beneath the hem of her shirt.
She shivered as he began sliding the material up, those strong hands caressing her stomach, mo
ving closer and closer to the undersides of her breasts.
When his exploration came to an abrupt halt, she voiced her disapproval in the form of a groan.
“Don’t worry,” he said with a chuckle. “I have every intention of playing with these gorgeous tits, but first I want to enjoy the view. Up you go.”
In the blink of an eye, he was helping her to her feet.
“What are you doing?”
A smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Me? Well, I’m going to lie here like this—” he fell back on his elbows, looking mighty pleased with himself, “—and watch while you undress.”
Her eyebrows flew up. “You want me to do a striptease? Am I supposed to dance or something?”
“Naah, no dancing required. And you don’t even have to go slow. Rip those clothes off if you want.”
“Do it for me.” Her brazen order came out of nowhere, surprising them both.
“Nope. Like I said, I’m just gonna enjoy the view.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He licked his lips. “Come on, honey, show me some skin.”
Although the two of them had worked everything out, a part of her still felt slightly wary, wondering if he was playing a cruel joke on her. Like she would take off her clothes, let him see her naked, and then he’d jump up and say, “Gotcha! I still hate you!”
Dylan must have read her mind, because he let out a breath and stood. “How about this? I’ll go first.”
“What—”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence, because the next thing she knew, he yanked his T-shirt over his head and tossed it aside, then shoved his sweatpants down his legs.
Claire gaped at him, heart pounding even harder. Her gaze darted around like a pinball, unable to land on one particular spot. Every inch of him was pure perfection, from his smooth, tanned skin to his tight six-pack, from the muscular thighs dusted with golden hair to the unmistakable erection beneath his black boxer briefs.
Somehow she managed to find her voice. “The undies stay on, huh? I guess putting yourself on display isn’t as liberating as you thought, is it?”
“I’m keeping these on for your sake, not mine.” He smirked. “Because the second you see my cock, you’ll get all weak-kneed and distracted. Probably applaud for a couple of minutes, too—that’s a common response I get from the ladies.”