by Karen Renee
Propping my elbows on my knees, I leaned toward her and it pleased me to see her eyes flare. “After you left, my mom went after you, but you know that. Pop, Gabe, and I had a damned uncomfortable conversation, and he talked us into listening to our mom.”
She rolled her hand at me. “Yeah, yeah. That doesn’t tell me how you got my addy.”
A silent snort of humor escaped me as I bowed my head at her impatience. I looked up at her and smiled. “Yeah. So, mom dropped by my place. First thing she did was set up her day-planner on the breakfast bar, wide open to an address book. Then she told me you had nothing to do with this and I needed to be open-minded with you. When Pop insisted I get everyone something to drink, I saw your name at the top of one of the pages. It wasn’t right what she did, but hell if it isn’t the very type of thing Vamp would do. So, I guess the devious nature we have is genetic. Anyway, she didn’t give me your address, but she left it so I could get it. Does that make sense?”
“Sadly, it does,” she said, shaking her head.
I dipped my chin as I contemplated her use of the word ‘sadly.’
“The way you say that, I have to ask... you want me to take you home?”
She shrugged and I admired her cleavage in the skin-tight t-shirt. “I do, but not because of that, er, well, not just because of that, I should say.”
“Okay,” I drawled.
“Takes a lot to be ‘in character’ for a shift at Disney. As much as I hate to say it, I need my rest.”
Eying her outstretched body, I grinned. “Crying shame we both have roommates because I could damn sure help you get your rest.”
Her eyes widened, and while she quickly tried to hide it, she failed. A chuckle forced its way out of me, seeing that from her.
“Brock,” she admonished, but it was half-hearted.
Every time she said my name that way, it made my spine straighten. On the one hand I loved hearing it, but on the other hand I hated my knee-jerk reaction that she might be trying to manipulate me.
An instinct told me I needed to go easy on her tonight. I smiled at her. “Fine. I’ll leave you be. For the time being, anyway. You need to give me your number. I’m guessing my schedule is more lenient than yours, and I intend to take up as much of your time as I can.”
Cecilia
I WOKE UP IN BROCK’S bed because his hands were toying between my legs. It had been two weeks since I was last here. While last night was just as hot and fabulous as the first time, I was nervous as hell about running into his brother. However, Brock was talented in many ways and his fingers were no different. When my legs widened, he looked into my eyes.
“Good morning, Sunflower.”
I reached toward his pajama pants. “You definitely know how to make it a good morning, B-Rock.”
He leaned toward me, letting my hand slide into his pants. “Seems you do too.”
He kissed me quick, then leaned back, falling so his head was near my knees, and he flipped me over so I was on his face. I shoved his pajama pants down. His cock bobbed once and I took it in my mouth as he sucked at me. Yes, it was definitely going to be a good morning.
Later, Brock and I moved out to the kitchen where he popped two bagels into a toaster. As we waited, his brother trudged out wearing shiny, loose basketball shorts and a black wife-beater. It was an oddly good look for him, mainly because he was taller and lankier than Brock, but he was still not my cup of tea.
When his eyes hit me, Gabe’s face set. “Back for more information to feed our deadbeat mother?”
“Gabe,” Brock growled.
I shook my head, but looked at Gabe. “No. She’s not my therapist any more.”
Both of Gabe’s brows shot up. “That’s surprising.”
Gabe’s antagonism was the very reason I didn’t want to run into him. I understood why he assumed I was in cahoots with his mother, but if Brock had realized that wasn’t the case, I didn’t know why Gabe hadn’t done the same.
I should not have engaged. I should have let it go. But, as ever in my mind, if there was something I should do, it was even money that I wouldn’t do it.
“How can you say that?” I asked, not bothering to hide my outraged tone.
Gabe’s head shifted and the set of his face changed so I caught a glimpse of animosity. “Don’t you druggies need your therapists and counselors like the rest of us need water?”
“Don’t be a jackass, Gabe,” Brock clipped out.
I licked my dry lips. “You’re right, Gabe. A counselor’s very important in my daily struggle, but did it occur to you that I can’t trust her any more?”
Yep. I should’ve let it go. Watching him lean an arm on the breakfast bar, I realized Gabe was settling in for the long haul. “They say it takes one to know one, so being untrustworthy yourself, I suspect you’d know she’s untrustworthy.”
Belatedly, I realized silence was my best recourse, so I kept quiet.
Gabe did not.
“What? You got nothin’ to say to that?” he demanded.
I kept my tone neutral. “I don’t, since I haven’t given you any reason to think I’m untrustworthy. Further, I haven’t spoken to her since the day I left her sitting at the bar in a trendy pizza restaurant.”
“Yet here you stand,” Gabe nearly snarled at me.
“Watch yourself, Gabriel,” Brock growled.
Gabe turned to him. “You need to watch yourself, but you’re not, so someone’s got to do it for you.” Then he turned back to me. “Know why we think she’s untrustworthy. The question is, why the hell do you?”
I tilted my head with disbelief. “There’s the not-so-small matter of her leaving my address for your brother. It’s damn sure a violation of my privacy, if not the law, but I don’t have time for pressing charges, or even know where I would go to press charges. That alone is a massive violation of my trust.”
An understanding smile curled his lips, but I did not trust it. “Must be hard to find a new shrink,” he said, and his tone was anything but understanding.
“It is,” I agreed, because it sure as hell was.
His gaze sharpened on me. “Then why not stick with the manipulative bitch?”
Repeating that she was not exactly trustworthy, was going to be lost on Gabe in his dog-with-a-bone state, but I thought I’d take a stab at it. “Because she was the one encouraging me to take a chance on someone sexually. No matter you and Brock have been estranged from her for years, I’ll be damned if I can believe anything she says if I’m sharing about my experiences with your brother.”
His lip curled with disgust. “Why the fuck would you share that shit with her or anybody?”
I looked beyond Brock to the counter where the bagels had popped up, and realized Brock was watching me. Swinging my gaze back to Gabe, I sighed. “I don’t know where you are with your studies, but maybe you’ve heard of Freud. It does not fail that at some point in the therapeutic process someone starts asking about my sex life. Current or past. Further, and since you’re being a complete jack-ass, I doubt this will penetrate, but think about this. I don’t want to share anything about Brock with the woman who gave birth to him, even if she didn’t stick around to raise him.”
“Wouldn’t be a jackass if you weren’t a screaming bitch in my kitchen,” Gabe said, straightening from the breakfast bar.
Except, Gabe didn’t go far because Brock leaned forward, his arm shot out, and he grabbed the collar of Gabe’s wife-beater, hauling his brother’s lanky frame forward. Anger in both of their eyes, the brothers faced off awkwardly with so much counter space between them.
“It ain’t your kitchen, asshole, and you don’t talk to any-fuckin’-body that way. Damn sure not Cecilia that way.”
When Brock finished speaking, he let go of Gabe’s shirt with a mighty shove and Gabe went back three steps before he got control of himself. Watching that show of force nearly turned me on, because it was really sexy Brock would do that for me, but since it was between two brothers, it m
ade me very sad.
Lucky for me, I was fully dressed and my purse was on a side table by the door. The brothers were still exchanging heated looks so I quietly backed toward the table. When I got there, I said, “Thanks for the offer of breakfast, Brock. But, I’m gonna go.”
Both of them looked to me, Gabe with glittering eyes and Brock with remorse in his.
“Cecilia, no, you stay–”
I had my hand on the knob and I shook my head. “No, Brock. I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later.”
Chapter Six
Don't Say I Never Warned You
Brock
Pushing against her soft tits with my chest, I forced Cecilia against the passenger seat as I kept at her mouth with my tongue. It had been years since I last made out in my car, and it was another reason I hated that we both had roommates in our respective apartments. My dick was throbbing in my pants and I couldn’t stop myself from rubbing my hand across her breasts trying to tweak her nipple through her shirt and bra.
She wrenched her mouth from mine, and I rested my forehead against hers. I could not get enough of her and it wasn’t just because I was horny. She did something to me no woman ever had.
I opened my eyes to see hers filled with what might have been curiosity, but I suspected was more like nervousness. Unaccustomed to that type of look on a woman I had just kissed breathless, I didn’t like it. Schooling my features, I took a deep breath.
“You get the next three days off?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she whispered.
“That’s good, honey,” I said before I softly and slowly kissed her.
I pulled back, and saw her drawing up courage to say something.
“Don’t you renege on me now, Sunflower.”
She leaned back and glared at the visor before she faced me again, her eyes wide. “Brock, hear me out. I know it didn’t go down this way, but seriously, you never would’ve introduced me to your father if he hadn’t barged in that day. I think it’s too soon for me to go traipsing off to Daytona to hang with him and your brothers.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong, baby. And it went down the way it was supposed to go down. You’ve met Pop. He likes you, even if he didn’t get to spend much time with you. It’s one of the best times to hit Daytona because it’s after Spring Break and most of the summer vacationers aren’t around yet. Plus — though if you tell her I said this, I’ll deny it— Marnie deserves to have another female around. We Sullivan men are a lot to handle.”
She grimaced, but even that was pretty on her sweet face. “I still think my time off would be better spent–”
My finger to her lips cut her off. “Don’t finish that thought, Sunflower. You surf?”
Her mouth dropped open beneath my finger. I loved taking her by surprise. I dropped my finger so she could answer.
“No,” she breathed.
I grinned. “Wanna learn?”
She bit the side of her lip and the throb in my crotch intensified.
“Sunflower,” I growled.
“Maybe,” she muttered.
Reflexively, my eyebrow arched. “Good. I’ll be here at–”
“Brock, I can meet you at your place,” she paused and her eyes lit up. “Better yet, why don’t I meet you at your Pop’s place?”
My teeth clenched for a moment, but I managed a grin. “No way, baby. I’m pickin’ your ass up and takin’ you to Ponce Inlet.”
Her head tilted. “I thought it was Daytona?”
I shrugged. “Essentially. You been to Winter Haven?”
She nodded.
“You tell a tourist you went to Winter Haven, or just call it Orlando?”
Her lips pressed together and she nodded as understanding dawned. “Fine. But I don’t know why I can’t have my own wheels.”
Wrapping my hand around her delicate neck, I pulled her toward me. “You won’t need ‘em, baby.”
Slanting my head, I kissed her deeply for a long damn time. It did nothing for the state of my cock, but when I was done, the way she looked up at me with lazy eyes, I knew she’d be feeling an ache similar to mine.
AFTER I LOCKED THE door to my apartment and turned to the living room, my cell rang. I pulled it from my pocket to see Vamp calling.
“What’s up, Vamp?” I greeted.
“That’s what I oughta ask you, dipshit,” Cary said to me.
“What are you on about?” I demanded.
“You failed to mention your new girlfriend when our egg-donor returned to our lives.”
I shook my head. “Been talking to Gabe, I hear,” I said referencing his usage of the term ‘egg-donor,’ which was Gabe’s new name for our mother.
“Enh. What can I say? He’s not wrong.”
I stopped short by the coffee table. “He is wrong, Cary. You especially know that. I haven’t forgiven her, but she was more than our egg donor.”
“You’re right, but it has its appeal. You’re tryin’ to change the subject, jackass. What’s this about a fuckin’ girlfriend, I hear?”
Planting my ass on the couch, I chuckled. “Don’t know if she’s a–”
“Don’t be a pussy, Brock. You bringin’ her to Pop’s place tomorrow or what?”
I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Yeah, but you better go easy on her, asshole.”
He chuckled. “Man, I know how to treat the ladies. Hell, I’m more concerned you’ve been an asshole to her.”
My jaw clenched so I wouldn’t tell him my gut reaction, which was that I would never be an asshole to Cecilia because part of me thought this could really work out. And not just because of our physical chemistry.
I sighed. “Whatever. You better be bringing Rainey with you.”
My brother’s voice went gravelly. “That’s Frankie to you.”
I grinned, but tried to keep it out of my voice. “Nope! Pop said it himself nearly a year ago. She has a perfectly beautiful name in ‘Lorraine.’ I don’t give a fuck if her middle name is Francis or whatever. I’m callin’ her Rainey like I did so many years ago when you two were first together.”
He groaned, but said, “Fuck off.”
I laughed, but before I could retort, the phone beeped, indicating my older brother hung up.
Cecilia
Stretching long and wide in my bed, I realized one of two things: either my alarm didn’t go off, or I hadn’t set the damn thing. Shit. I was so damned comfortable, it was nearly criminal to lift my head. But I did it because I had to know what time it was so I could get a move on. The digits on my clock read 5:41 and I crashed into my pillow with disbelief.
I never woke before six in the morning. Definitely not since I escaped from the prison better known as public high school. Why I was up at such an un-Godly hour now, I had no idea. No, wait. That wasn’t true. I did know, but I didn’t want to believe it.
I was excited.
Crap. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Hell, I didn’t think it could happen. How could I be excited about spending an entire weekend with Brock; his brother Gabe, who, since his mother intruded on breakfast that first morning, freaked me way the hell out; and also his brother Cary, or Vamp, who was an outlaw biker. An outlaw biker like my sister Tennille’s fiancé, Razor. How could I be excited about this?
Last night before bed, I’d told myself to keep things in check. Seemed my subconscious had other ideas.
Double crap!
I disabled my alarm and rolled out of bed. Rubbing my eyes, I trudged to my dresser for my clothes. Quietly, I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me, then turned on the light.
I stripped and started the shower. Brock planned to show up bright and early, and a large part of me didn’t want to impress him but deep down it was ingrained in me. There was no way I was going to let a man, any man, take me anywhere, when I wasn’t putting my best foot forward. So, I washed my hair, used my best body wash, and made sure to give my legs (and other areas) the closest, cleanest shave a girl could get.
The trut
h was I was nervous. My nerves had been on high alert for so long, it almost felt like second nature. I was worried about my secret, and the more time I spent with Brock, the more I knew I had to tell him fully about my past. The problem was, conversely, the more time I spent with him, the harder it became and the less I wanted to tell him.
It was wrong to hide it, as indicated by my urge to tell Brock that first night. But, the longer things went on, the better they became. The better things became, the more I fretted over how awful it would be if, or more likely, when things ended.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Brock was an admirable man, but I couldn’t let myself get attached.
CLIMBING INTO BROCK’S Civic, he shot me a wide, sexy smile. I grinned as I put my duffel on the floorboard, and buckled up.
“That really all you have, honey?”
My eyes slid from my duffel to him. “Um, yeah. It’s two days basically, since I’m wearing my outfit for today. We’re not heading anywhere fancy, are we?”
His smile dimmed slightly, but his eyes grew more heated. “No, can’t say that we are.” Wrapping a hand around my neck, he pulled me to him. “Good morning, baby.”
I barely murmured “Good morning,” before he planted a long and wet kiss on me.
He leaned back, and put his car in gear. “So, you wearing your suit under your clothes?”
I glanced at him and back to the road. “No. It’s early in the morning, I didn’t figure we’d be hitting the beach so soon.”
He shook his head. “Well, you better have a suit or two in that tiny bag of yours because you’re gonna need it.”
“More than one?”
“Pop has a pool, and the beach is within relative walking distance.”
I chuckled. “What in the world is ‘relative walking distance?’”
His humorous grin forced a flare of warmth through my chest. “It means, it’s totally walkable when you set-off for the beach, but after you’ve had your fill, and you’re drained from being in the sun all day, the walk back is damn-near impossible.”
“Sounds like a genuine struggle,” I deadpanned.