Man Fast: Bergen Brothers: Book One

by Krista Sandor

  Abby cringed. “I did. I didn’t know it was one of the most difficult runs on the mountain. I’d never skied a day in my life.”

  Ray caught his wife’s eye. “It’s the most difficult run. The most difficult run named after the woman who was the most difficult girl in Brooklyn to catch.”

  Harriet waved off the comment. “Stop!” But her expression said she didn’t mind her husband’s fawning.

  Ray leaned back, a nostalgic air about him. “It’s true! How many dates did we go on before you even let me hold your hand?”

  A youthful, rosy glow bloomed on Harriet’s cheeks. “Seven.”

  Brennen looked up. “I didn’t know that.”

  Harriet squeezed her husband’s hand. “Yes, your grandfather worked quite hard to woo me.”

  Ray nodded. “She’s not kidding! It was hard work! There were guys lined up around the block hoping for a chance with Harriet Livingston.”

  Brennen covered his ear. “And…I’ve heard enough.”

  “I hope I was worth the wait?” she teased.

  “I can’t imagine a life that could even come close to what we’ve shared, my dear.”

  “And this is why Ray beat out all my other suitors.”

  Abby couldn’t hold back a wide grin. “It’s very romantic.”

  Ray took Harriet’s hand. “The important things in life are often worth the wait.”

  Brennen looked up from his letters and held her gaze. “You’re right about that, Grandad.”

  A sweet silence hung in the air.

  Harriet covered her mouth and yawned. “My goodness! You must excuse me. I think I’ve worn myself out.”

  “Well, the game’s over,” Brennen said, placing the last of his tiles on the board. “I’m out, and Abby’s ahead of all of us by about a hundred points.”

  Harriet stood, and Ray came to her side. “It was lovely seeing you, Abby.”

  “Thank you! I had a wonderful time.”

  “And I wasn’t kidding about bringing you to play against the governor,” Brennen’s grandfather added.

  “Come summer break, I’m all yours, Mr. Bergen.”

  “None of that! It’s Harriet and Ray,” the woman said, folding her into a warm embrace.

  Brennen glanced out the window. “Do you mind if I take Abby out back? It’s a nice night.”

  Harriet shared a look with her husband. “That’s a lovely idea.”

  “What’s in the back?” Abby asked.

  Brennen tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’ll see.”

  “Well, goodnight, darling.”

  Harriet and Ray left the cozy game room, and Abby turned to Brennen. “Are you going to tell me what’s out back?”

  “It’s pretty cool. Only a few homes in Denver have this.”

  “What?”

  He helped her with her coat, grabbed his, then led her through the spacious home and into the back yard.

  Abby looked over the fence. “Is that the botanic gardens?”

  He took her hand. “Yeah, and my grandparents’ house has private access. Come on.”

  They passed through a gate and with only a few steps, they had the gardens to themselves.

  “Are we going to get into trouble? It’s late. The gardens must be closed by now.”

  He laced his fingers with hers. “We won’t stay long. The spot I want to show you is close by.”

  Bathed in moonlight, they walked the main path until Brennen took her down a narrow trail that led to a wooden bench. He gestured for her to sit and joined her. An oasis in the heart of Denver, the sounds of the city hummed in the crisp night air.

  She glanced at Brennen as he silently played with her fingers, tightening and then releasing his grip. He was mulling something over, his gaze trained out into the darkness.

  She squeezed his hand. “I like this place.”

  “We’d come to the gardens all the time when we were kids. My brothers and I would always run to this spot. In the summertime when everything was green and lush and grown over, this little nook was hidden away. My parents would always find us, and the five of us would crowd into this cozy spot. It was like we were invisible, and nothing could touch us.” He leaned forward and ran his finger across something shiny on the back of the bench. “After their death, my grandparents had this bench installed.”

  Abby took a closer look. In the hazy darkness, she could just make out the names of Hannah and Griffin Bergen carved onto a small plaque.

  “I’ve known it was here. They had it put in years ago. But this is the first time I’ve come here since their death. This is the first time I felt worthy enough to be here, and I have you to thank for that.”

  Abby blinked back tears. “I didn’t know your parents, but from everything I’ve learned about them, I’m positive you have always been worthy of their love.”

  “Maybe, but now I want to live a life that would make them proud. I want to carry on their legacy.”

  “You will.”

  He leaned in closer. “I want to do it with you. I want the world to know what you mean to me. The day you jammed that glue stick into my chest was the day everything changed.”

  She brushed a tear from her cheek. “Who knew a glue stick could do all that?”

  He cupped her cheek and held her gaze. She could see the resolve in his eyes, feel his steadfast resoluteness. “I’m not going to let you down, Abby. Every day, I swear to you, I’m going to be the man I know my parents wanted me to be and the man you deserve. We’re going to finish your man fast, and then I’m never letting you go.”

  15

  Brennen

  Abby turned to the side and gazed at her reflection in the mirror. “What do you think of this one, Bren?”

  Brennen sucked in a tight breath. Day sixty-seven was turning out to be one of the best, while at the same time most excruciating, days of the man fast. In a backless, pale pink gown, Abby smoothed her hands down her body, assessing her appearance. She was beautiful with her hair in a messy bun and wearing his oversized Bergen Mountain sweatshirt. Now, standing in front of him modeling a shimmering pink gown, she took his breath away.

  What did he think? He wasn’t thinking—at least not with his brain. But he knew what he wanted.

  He wanted to trail kisses down the length of her spine. He wanted to taste each creamy inch of her skin. He wanted to take her into the dressing room, rip the delicate gown from her body, and slide his weeping cock inside her.

  He’d take her against the wall, her legs wrapped around his body as he thrust into her with scorching, punctuated blows, and she’d be screaming his name for all the customers in the dress shop to hear.

  And then they’d do it all over again. And maybe a third time. He’d purchase every dress in the store just so he could tear it off her! Maybe that’s what he needed to do—buy the store. One phone call and the place would be theirs.

  He sighed. If he thought Abby would let him, he’d be all over that crazy idea. He shook his head, trying to clear the lust cobwebs. He’d taken a lot of cold showers over the last fifteen days of the man fast. On day sixty-seven, he may need to take two.

  But he wouldn’t have traded this time for anything.

  Over the past two weeks, they’d snowshoed, read two books on Oprah’s reading list, watched The Notebook—Abby’s favorite movie—multiple times, visited the art museum, and taken another axe throwing class. Abby was right. Her aim was terrible.

  They’d laughed. They’d talked. Every moment he wasn’t engaged in work for the foundation and she wasn’t teaching, they were together. Cooking dinner. Watching movies. Fixing up her new place. He’d go home every night, but his penthouse felt foreign. The hazy memories of women and parties in the vast space turned his stomach. Everything he wanted and everything he needed was inside that cozy bungalow on the other side of the park.

  Abby frowned. “You don’t like it? Do you think it’s too pink?”

  The Whitmore Gala was a week away. The date just ha
ppened to fall on day seventy-four—the last day of the man fast.

  He came up behind her and ran his index finger down the exposed skin of her back. Abby sighed and arched into his touch.

  She met his gaze in the mirror. “What are you doing?”

  He kept his expression neutral. “I’m checking the fit.”

  She dropped her hands to her sides, her gaze trained on their reflection. “What do you think?”

  “I think I could get it off you in less than three seconds.”

  She bit her lip, and his cock noticed.

  He leaned in and grasped the zipper at the base of her spine. “I don’t know how I feel about zippers. Do they have any dresses with Velcro or snaps?”

  Her cheeks grew pink, her breaths shallow. “Maybe we could find something more suitable made out of paper?”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  She reached up and stroked his cheek. “Thank you, Bren.”

  “For what? I’m the one who gets to sit in the man chair, hold your purse, and watch you try on dress after dress. I should be thanking you.”

  “You know what I mean. You’ve got the patience of a saint.”

  “If you knew what I was just thinking, you definitely would not be calling me a saint.”

  She licked her lips. “What were you thinking?”

  Sweet Jesus!

  Forget two cold showers. He’d need three after today.

  This had started a few days ago. Since they were honoring the man fast friend code, they’d pushed pause on the sex button. It wasn’t like they couldn’t do anything. They held hands. They cuddled. They basically followed all the rules of a middle school dance—except for one.

  Dirty talk.

  And holy hell, was he up for it!

  He skimmed his hand over her hip. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

  Her brow knit together. “This dress is so sheer, I didn’t want to have any panty lines showing.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I wanted to pull them down your legs with my teeth,” he answered.

  She shrugged and feigned nonchalance. “I guess you’ll have to find something else to do with your mouth.”

  His balls might actually explode.

  A white chaise lounge chair sat in the corner of the dressing room. Lined with frilly pillows, it didn’t look like anyone had used it for seating—ever. It would, however, fit nicely into his dirty little fantasy.

  Their gazes locked in the mirror, and he gestured with his head toward the chair. “We start there. I throw all those idiotic pillows on the floor and lay your body back onto the cushion.”

  Her pupils dilated, and her nipples formed tight peaks under the bodice of the sheer gown. “Then what?”

  “I’d drape one of your legs over the side and lick a trail from your ankle all the way to your sweet center.”

  “Are you going to tease me or are you going to get down to business?”

  He grinned. “I’m going to tease you.”

  The creamy skin of Abby’s chest and neck flushed, nearly matching the shade of her gown. He moved in closer, his body a breath away from hers. He dropped his hands to her thighs and slid them up to settle on her hips.

  She released a breathy sigh as he leaned in, his lips millimeters from the shell of her ear, and lowered his voice. “I’d lick you up and down until you begged for more. Then, I’d work a finger inside you while I sucked that sweet clit of yours.”

  She closed her eyes, rested her head against his chest, and hummed her arousal.

  “I’d bring you right to the edge, licking and sucking and fucking you with my fingers, until I knew you couldn’t take one more second.”

  “Then I’d feel you inside me,” she whispered.

  Abby’s eyes were still closed, but the naughty smile on her lips told him she was right there with him on this dirty escapade.

  “Yes, but I’d go slowly. Filling you. Stretching you. Sliding in every hard inch.”

  “You won’t be able to hold back once I tighten around your big, thick cock and thrust my hips,” she breathed.

  Jesus Christ!

  He tightened his grip on her, the silky material bunching between his fingers. “I’ll drive in like a freight train, pumping and grinding. You’ll dig your nails into my back, screaming my name as I fuck you so hard we break the legs on that damn chair.”

  She gave him a sexy smile. “I think I know the next piece of furniture I need to get for my bungalow.”

  He ran his hands up her abdomen. “I’m going to buy every stupid chaise lounge chair in the state of Colorado—in every color of the rainbow.”

  “Did I hear you’d like to see the dress in a different color?”

  Brennen stilled, and Abby’s eyes popped open.

  In the mirror’s reflection, he saw a saleswoman standing at the entrance to the fitting room.

  “Sorry to leave you back here on your own so long. I was helping a customer at the front of the store.”

  Abby met his gaze in the reflection. “No worries! I think we really like this color.”

  She’d pulled herself together fast. He, on the other hand, couldn’t hide the effect of their dirty talk.

  “Yes, the dress seems like it’s very well-made. Good…fabric.” He tugged on the gown and gave Abby’s hip a gentle tap, making sure to position himself so his giant boner wasn’t reflected in the mirror for the salesperson to see.

  The woman pursed her lips, her gaze darting to the chaise lounge and then back to them. “All right, then. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”

  The saleswoman left the fitting room, and Abby’s hand flew to her chest. “Do you think she heard us?”

  “I doubt it, but you do get kind of loud when you’re all hot and bothered.”

  Her jaw dropped. “I do not.”

  He smiled. “I like it.”

  She gazed up at him through her eyelashes. “I like it, too.”

  “What day of the man fast are we on?” he asked. He knew damn well, but it didn’t hurt to double check.

  “Sixty-seven.”

  He ran his finger along her spine. “What happens on day sixty-nine?”

  She bit her lip. “Not what you think.”

  He shook his head and chuckled. Day seventy-four couldn’t come soon enough.

  Abby checked the dress in the mirror. “I think this is the one.”

  He stared at her—this stunning beauty who had captured his heart. The one was right. She was the one. He grinned. “I agree. It’s perfect.”

  “I’m going to get changed.” She stepped away from the mirror and headed into the fitting room.

  “Need any help in there?”

  “I think I’ve got it. I’ll be out in a minute,” she said, the door clicking shut behind her.

  He sat back in the man chair to rest his aching balls just as Abby’s purse buzzed.

  “Your bag is vibrating.”

  “Can you see who it is? I’m waiting to hear back from Pedro.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Who’s Pedro?”

  “You know Pedro. He’s the kickboxing instructor. He was going to check with the gym and see if he could donate a few free training sessions for the Whitmore Gala Auction.”

  He opened her purse and found her phone. “I wish you’d let me help you with that. You know I own a mountain.”

  “Man fast rules,” she called from behind the changing room door.

  “Man fast rules,” he muttered then glanced at the text message. “Yep, it’s Pedro.”

  “And?”

  Crap.

  “He says the gym won’t let him give away private sessions.” Brennen waited a beat. “Abby, did you hear that?”

  “I heard you,” she said, a crease to her brow as she came out of the dressing room carrying the gown.

  “That’s too bad. I’m sorry, Abby.”

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach h
er eyes. “It’s okay. I’ve still got a little time to get something lined up.”

  He ran his hand down her arm. “The Bergen Foundation donates to organizations every day. Let me do this for you.”

  She shook her head. “I need to figure this out on my own. I’ve come this far. In a week, it’ll be over. I need to do this for myself.”

  He sighed. “I only want to help you.”

  She smiled, and this time, it reached her eyes. “You are helping me by standing by my side and letting me do it on my own. And I can always ask my cousin to donate a signed copy of her bestselling book. I’ll figure this out.”

  He cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Abby Rose.”

  Her lips curved into a sweet smile. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

  He held her gaze, lost in the depths of her sage green eyes.

  You’re my good thing, Abby. My everything.

  “Bren?”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best thing.”

  She folded the gown over her arm. “Do we need to go tux shopping for you?”

  “No, I’ve got a tux. It’s up at the…”

  He paused as an idea sparked.

  Abby narrowed her gaze. “The what? You’ve got a really weird expression going on.”

  He nodded to himself. “The cottage. My tux is up at the cottage.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “That wasn’t a tux at the cottage kind of face. Care to share?”

  “Can it be a surprise?” he asked, knowing he’d stumbled on to something good.

  “Is it within the man fast code?”

  “Now it’s a code?” he teased.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He pressed his hand to her back and guided her out of the dressing room. “Don’t you worry, Miss Quinn. It doesn’t break the code.”

  Well, maybe it did, but he was willing to bet this little idea of his was worth bending the man fast rules.

  16

  Brennen

  Brennen checked his watch and paced the hallway outside the conference room of the Bergen Enterprises building, listening to raised, angry voices. It was the last day of the man fast, and he was running out of time. The door to the room flew open, and he jumped back as a woman with a sour expression stared him down.