by Lily Harlem
I pressed my tongue into his mouth, he tasted of wine and the sea. I delved deeper, exploring, drinking him up. I could kiss him all day and all night.
“I thought you needed your rest?” he murmured, taking his hand from my chest.
“I can rest later,” I said, pulling back to look into his eyes. My body was tingling for his touch, my nipples straining against my bra. I reached for his hand, spread out his fingers and pressed it over my breast. Just feeling his touch through clothing had me catching my breath.
He looked at my face. I couldn’t hide my desire, my lust, it was like another living, breathing part of me. I wanted Logan Taylor, now, and I was helpless to disguise the fact.
The side of his mouth twitched. “You’re gonna tire me out,” he said. “I’ll need another holiday.”
“I’m sure you can handle it.”
He slipped his hand down, tucking it underneath my top. He smoothed up over my warm skin until his palm cradled my breast through thin satin. “Mmm, I can handle you just fine.” His lips hovered over mine.
The heat from his touch sent sparks of arousal flying through my body. I pushed a lock of hair from his eye and let the blood pool deliciously between my legs. I knew Logan could satisfy me. I knew he had what I needed and so much more.
A musical chime tinkled from the open doors of the villa. “What was that?” I asked, frowning.
“I’m not sure.”
The high-pitched sound echoed out again.
“Maybe it’s the doorbell,” Logan said. “Perhaps Brick is early.”
I squeezed my legs together in disappointment. “Let’s pretend we’re not home,” I said, pressing my palm over Logan’s hand encouragingly.
His gaze narrowed and he sucked in one side of his cheek. “Tempting,” he said, shifting his hips. “But not very hospitable of us.”
“Who cares?” I let my hand drift to the front of his shorts. His erection was there waiting for me, marble-hard and straining his zipper. “We’ll say we were walking on the beach or something.”
Logan let out a tight moan and his eyelids fluttered shut as he pushed himself into my hand. “I don’t think we’ll get away with that.”
“Why not?” I gave his shaft a long, hard squeeze.
His breath caught and his jaw tensed. “Brick’s not known for his patience or subtlety.”
“Hey, is that you, Phoenix?” A sudden, deep voice boomed from the other side of the deck. “I’ve been ringing the damn bell, couldn’t you hear me?”
Logan flicked his eyes open and snapped his hand from inside my top. He sat, spun and perched on the edge of the bed.
I looked around his shoulder to see a giant of a man stepping onto the deck through a gap in the foliage.
“Hey, Brick,” Logan said, remaining seated with his shoulders hunched forward and his forearms resting on his knees.
I straightened my t-shirt, pushed my hand through my hair and shifted so I was sitting higher up against the pillows. Dragging in a deep, calming breath, I tried to beat down the irritation bristling the hairs on my neck. Brick wasn’t supposed to arrive until later. He’d encroached on our precious time together when it was just about to get real good again.
Brick banged across the deck, his big sneakers loud on the softly worn wood. “I had to use the side path, I thought you weren’t home.” He grinned, flashing neat, white teeth, and held out his hand to Logan. “But here you are, lounging around.”
Logan shook his teammate’s hand then turned to me. “This is Brooke,” he said. There was discomfort in his voice.
“Hey, great to meet you, Brooke.”
I studied him as he lifted my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to my knuckles. He had tightly curled, blond hair, like a cherub, which looked odd on such a testosterone-overdosed man with a thick neck, almost thicker than his head, and a small golden soul patch under his bottom lip. His green eyes flashed and his eyebrows twitched as he dropped his gaze down my body, settling on my cleavage and my erect nipples.
I pulled my hand away. I knew when I was being ogled and I didn’t like it. Brick’s look was very different from the one Logan gave me. Logan’s was full of gentle admiration, he caressed me with his gaze, stroked my flesh with his eyes. But Brick just stared, licking his lips, and I imagined he’d be a kneader when it came to touching a woman’s breasts.
“It’s good to meet you,” I said, rising from the bed and trying hard to sound sincere. “Would you like a drink? We were just going to get one.”
Brick raised his brow even farther and looked at Logan. “Yeah,” he said with a smirk. “If that’s what you were just gonna do then I guess I’ll join you.”
“Beer?” I asked, ducking into the villa.
“Sure,” Logan said, clearing his throat.
“Make it two,” Brick called.
Chapter Nine
I left the men on the deck catching up over a drink as I busied around the kitchen. Logan and I had lingered so long over lunch and ambled back so slowly it was getting near dinnertime. I’d had plans of building up our appetite further but Brick had put paid to that, much to my intense irritation.
I took three steaks from the fridge, prepared a hickory marinade the way Aunt Belinda had taught me when I was eight years old, and set about scrubbing baking potatoes and mixing up a cheesy, sour cream dressing to pour over them.
“Hey, sweetie.” Logan wound his arms around my waist and pulled my back against his chest.
I tipped my head into the crook of his shoulder so he could kiss my neck.
“You doin’ all right in here?” he asked, his hot breath trickling down my skin.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“I’m sorry he arrived so early.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I’m still sorry.” He gave a little groan. “But it hurt me more than it hurt you.”
“Are you okay now?”
“I was until I just smelled that coconut stuff you use in your hair. Mixed with your perfume, it’s the best smell ever and I’m in discomfort again.”
I spun in his arms and hooked my hands behind his neck, glancing out the door. Brick was draining his bottle and staring out to sea. “Is it really bad?” I asked.
“Yeah, it’s really bad. So don’t expect me to have much stamina later on, not after I’ve been this hard for you all afternoon.” His lips connected with mine and as the malt of beer seeped onto my tongue, he pressed his erection into my stomach.
“I may have to make love to you twice, or even three times to get it out of my system,” he said into my mouth.
My knees weakened and I clung to him as sexy flutters spread in waves over my skin. “Only three times?” I asked, surprised by how husky my own voice sounded.
“Well that’s just tonight, it doesn’t include the morning before we catch the plane. Maybe we ought to consider joining the mile-high club too.”
“Got any more of these?” Brick appeared by Logan’s shoulder with a broad grin on his face.
“Sure, help yourself.” Logan said, releasing me.
“Want one?” Brick stooped to the fridge.
“Nah, I’ve had my fill,” Logan said. “I’m gonna take off for a run.”
“I’m making you a steak,” I said.
“Awesome,” he smiled and winked. “I’ll be half an hour, okay?”
“Sure.” I matched his smile, I couldn’t help it, it was how he made me feel. Happy.
*****
I put the steaks into the marinade and wiped the deck table, set out napkins and cutlery, three tall glasses and a jug of water crammed with ice, lemons and lime. The potatoes were in the oven, crisping up, and I had no intention of cooking the steak until Logan had returned and showered.
I picked up a small pair of scissors from the kitchen and wandered onto the deck. Brick was lounging on the bed reading Hockey Today and I walked past him and around the dense patch of shrubbery where I’d seen the orange flowers. They had long
stems and would be perfect in a vase at the center of the table.
I snipped three, pleased with their scent, studying the delicate fanned petals and long stamen heavy with globs of pollen.
I felt a presence behind me and turned, half expecting Logan back from his run.
It was Brick.
He stood, silhouetted by the sinking sun, feet apart and arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve done a great job with Phoenix,” he said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, turning to the flowers again and wondering why his voice gave me a chill when the evening was so sultry.
“He looks back in control, really relaxed.” I sensed Brick stepping closer, felt his shadow cool the backs of my legs.
“We’ve had a good week. I think he is really relaxed.” I snipped another stem.
“You’ve worked hard then.”
“I beg your pardon.” I turned and was surprised to see Brick much closer than I thought he’d be. My nose nearly touched his t-shirt.
“Fergal said there was a woman here taking his mind off things. Cheering him up. Getting him back in the zone.”
I stepped hastily backward into the flowers.
His gaze dropped to my breasts again. “You’ve worked hard, Brooke.”
“I haven’t worked at anything. Logan is a great guy.”
“Logan, eh? Everyone else calls him Phoenix, you know.”
“Well, he asked me to call him Logan.” I paused. “He’s more than just a dumb jock, you know.” I gave Brick the kind of look that suggested that was exactly what I thought of him.
“I would have thought dumb jocks were right up your street, especially ones with six-figure salaries.” His eyebrow twitched. “Ones who pay for services.”
I squeezed my fingers so tight around the flower stems I felt them crush then weep their sticky sap into my palm. “What are you talking about?” Brick was rapidly becoming my least favorite person in the Universe. His vague but unnervingly accurate suggestion about my initial financial reason for being here was too close for comfort—far too close.
“I’m just saying it’s nice work if you can get it. There must be a lot of job satisfaction for you.” He smirked and stepped even closer. “Satisfaction in every sense of the word.” Suddenly he wound his hands around my waist and snapped me up against his huge, hard body.
I dropped the scissors and the flowers. “Get off me!” I squirmed, looking up at his boyish face. It was set hard as stone and his green eyes flashed dangerously. “You have no idea about my relationship with Logan, or what you’re talking about.” I put my hands on his chest and tried to shove him away. But he didn’t move, it was like trying to shift a mountain.
“I think I do, Brooke, I think I know exactly why you’re here.”
“No, get off me, I’m not interested in you. I’m with Logan.”
“Oh, don’t be shy.” His brow furrowed as he snaked one hand up my spine, cradled my skull and dropped his head lower. “I’m sure he’ll share you.”
I could smell beer on his breath. It wasn’t sweet like Logan’s, it was sour and ugly.
I banged clenched fists onto his chest and pushed harder, twisting my head to get away from his face, his smell, his words.
“Let me have a bit of what’s on offer,” he murmured a second before he pressed his mouth down on mine. Hard and strong, his tongue flat and wet.
I squeezed my lips tight and squealed deep in my throat, wriggling my body against his embrace and twisting my neck. But Brick was so strong and so solid it was no good. Even when I tried to drop my entire body weight he just held me up in the air.
“Come on, Brooke,” he said, lifting his head a fraction and studying my eyes. “There might even be a little extra something in it for you.”
“Get the hell off me, you moron,” I shouted, drawing back my foot to ram into his shin. I was going to make him wish fate had never brought him my way, even if it did cost me my toes.
But before I could release my anger, a sudden flash of movement roared from my left. Brick released me and he went flying sideways with a deep grunt as I tumbled to the ground with a yelp of surprise.
My knees and palms slapped onto the sand and the breath was banged from my chest. I pushed hair from my face and looked up. Logan and Brick were tumbling in a lock of limbs and big bodies in the deepest, driest sand.
“Logan,” I shouted, jumping to my feet.
Like a giant, dusty whirlwind they toppled across the beach away from me. Arms and legs flailing. Shouts, grunts and curses filling the air. I heard the sickening thud of flesh on flesh and air being forced from someone’s lungs.
“Logan.” I ran toward them, stumbling in craters of powdery sand. “Logan, stop.”
The movements came to a halt as quickly as they’d started. Logan was on top of Brick. Brick was splayed on his stomach with his face pressed into the sand. Logan had twisted one of his arms right up his back in a very unnatural-looking position.
“Get the fuck off me,” Brick seethed, squirming and twisting like a captured animal. “You fucking idiot, Phoenix, get off.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t break your shoulder blade and then do the other one just for fun, you ignorant piece of—” Logan snarled into his ear.
“Logan, please.” I ran over and sank to my knees. I looked at Brick’s face, contorted in agony. His eyes were screwed tight and bubbles of spit sat around the corners of his mouth. His nostrils flared as he breathed hard and fast and hundreds of grains of sand clung to his cheek. I didn’t like the guy one bit but I didn’t want to see him physically harmed—that would be bad for everyone’s karmas. “Logan, let him go.”
Logan looked at me through narrowed eyes, his face red and hot. “From where I stood it looked like he was trying to kiss you, trying to kiss you against your will.”
“That’s exactly what happened but let him go, he’s got the message now.”
“Yeah, let go, Phoenix, it’s not fucking funny anymore.” Brick grunted as he writhed under Logan’s weight. He yelped as his shoulder stayed fixed and Logan dropped even more weight on it.
“There’s something you gotta do first,” Logan said through gritted teeth.
“What, for fuck’s sake, what?” Brick whimpered as Logan pushed his head and squashed his face farther into the beach.
“Apologize to Brooke.”
“What?” Brick opened his eyes then blinked rapidly as sand avalanched toward his face.
“Apologize to Brooke for thinking she’d be interested in a sorry dumbass like you.”
Brick clenched his teeth. “Sorry,” he said. “Now get the hell off me, Phoenix.”
“No, I’m not done with you yet.”
Brick squirmed in anger and kicked his feet. Sand flew upward and sprayed over Logan’s back.
“Apologize to me now.”
“What the hell for?”
Logan dropped his head down to Brick’s ear. “For kissing my woman.”
“What?”
“You heard. Brooke’s with me, get used to it.” He shoved at Brick’s arm, creating more tension and getting another yelp out of Brick. “Now apologize to me for trying to take what’s mine before I whoop your sorry ass into next year and you have to miss the rest of this season and all of next.”
“Sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay.”
“Say it nicely.”
Brick dragged in a breath. “Sorry,” he said, quieter. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize you’d hooked up.”
Logan sprang to his feet, releasing Brick as quickly as he’d pinned him down.
Brick groaned and rolled to his back, grasping his tormented left shoulder. He squinted at Logan through the low sun. “What did you have to fucking do that for, you know my shoulder’s been giving me shit.”
Logan shrugged. “I forgot.” He put his arm around my waist and helped me to my feet. “But don’t forget, Brooke’s with me so keep your hands, your mouth, your eyes and every other part of your anato
my under control when you’re in her company.”
“Yeah, okay.” Brick pushed to his feet with a grimace and started brushing sand from his clothes. “Shit, man, these are new.”
“And she doesn’t like cursing either,” Logan said. “So keep your mouth clean.”
Brick swiped his hands together then ran his fingers through his tight nest of sand-filled curls.
“Got it?” Logan said.
“Yeah, got it,” Brick muttered and looked me in the eyes. “She’s yours and she don’t like cursing.”
I studied his green eyes and pulled in an apprehensive breath. I thought I might see hate, or anger, or even revenge in their depths. But to my relief I didn’t, they were resigned, surrendered. I sought out his aura. It was a startling shade of bottle green, a few flecks of hazelnut brown, but nothing major. I hoped that would be the last of the matter. Logan and I were together, that’s what he’d said, and I wouldn’t be taking any money for having spent the week in his bed, no way, so whatever the heck Brick had insinuated, it was all wrong.
*****
Brick had a swelling on his left cheekbone and I gave him a bag of ice to press against it as I cooked the steaks. Logan had reopened part of the gash on his forehead and I angled a bandage over it to hold the skin together. He didn’t want me to, but the small tear wouldn’t stop dripping blood into his eye so in the end, to eat his steak without the irritation of bleeding, he had no choice but to let me have a go at patching it up.
By the time we’d finished the meal, Logan and Brick were chatting as if nothing had happened. As though they hadn’t just pummeled each other on the beach, had a good go at breaking limbs, dislocating joints and drawing blood. They laughed about a pounding Yusof took midweek, scoffed at the ineptitude of refs and trash-talked every other team in the league.
Brick was complimentary of the food and kept his eye-line at a respectable level. When everyone had finished he went so far as collecting up the plates and loading the dishwasher.
“You okay?” Logan asked when we were alone in the moonlight.