I was so busy shaking my head at Reid’s casual display of ego that I almost missed Hannah opening the door. The second my eyes fell on her, I regretted the brief span of inattention down to the very millisecond. Christ, she was beautiful. Her hair was down and styled in these soft, romantic curls that seemed to cradle the curves of her face, like a delicate Fabergé egg nestled in a wreath of silk. The confident, appraising smile she flashed me stretched from cheek to cheek, and I noticed she hadn’t put on much makeup, which made her look a far cry from the vixen behind the bar I’d always known her for. There was something about her now that seemed… gentler. More human. And yet half-angel, all at the same time.
Her emerald eyes sparkled beneath her brows as they lifted, and I watched as her smile morphed into a much more impish smirk. Leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, “I take it from that cowlick you’ve got you brought your bike here?”
And just like that, any sense I’d had that Hannah was becoming just a little more approachable vanished into thin air.
My stomach dropped to my feet and Reid snickered. Trying not to acknowledge the rush of blood I could feel in my ears, I glared at him. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Reid placed his hand over his chest, mimicking the gesture I’d made before. “I didn’t want to be hurtful,” he said with a sly smile.
Hannah rolled her eyes at us, though she smiled when she did it. As I carded my fingers through my hair, trying desperately to tame those out-of-place locks, she made a sweeping motion with her arm and stepped aside to usher us in. “Sarah and Beth should be ready in a minute,” she said. “We had to do some shopping. And after we did some shopping, I had to convince them there was nothing wrong with the clothes they bought. So I’d appreciate it if you boys didn’t either act like a pack of lecherous wolves, or laugh at them if you think they’re still too modest. Got it?”
Lecherous wolves. That was a new one. “Fair enough,” I said, ducking a little to avoid hitting my head on the top of the doorway. I got only a few paces inside before I heard a loud thud and turned around to see Hannah barring entry for Reid. She was clutching the doorframe so tightly her nails blanched white.
Reid was staring at her. He looked confused. I was too, until Hannah—in a firm, even tone—added, “I’m serious, Reid. They’re vulnerable. Be nice. Understand?”
I stepped nearer to her, shooting Reid a hard look over the top of Hannah’s head, a silent threat that if he did something stupid—if he so much as mouthed off like he was wont to do—I would bash his stupid teeth in. As a bouncer, my job was more often than not to deescalate, to stop a conflict before it began, or at least put an end to it once it had. But the situation here was fragile, and if he wasn’t ready to handle it like a decent human being, then I needed to be ready to treat him like any other asshole I’d had to eject from various venues. And I couldn’t deny that I was just a little worried for Hannah. She was a tough girl, both inside and out, but up against Reid…
Yet she held his gaze without concern. I couldn’t see her face from my vantage point, but I could tell by the lift of her chin, the set of her jaw, that she regarded him with nothing but defiance, daring him to pull some shit—to come to her house and show even the slightest inkling of disrespect. Reid, for his part, hardly looked cowed—but I saw a twinkle of something like respect in his gaze, and with a little raise of his brows, he nodded to her and she lowered her arm to let him through.
I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. When Wyatt came through, he preemptively held up his hands in a disarming gesture at Hannah and said, “Trust me, making an enemy out of you is the last thing I want to do.”
I smiled and shook my head, retreating to the small sitting room near the door. Damn, I thought, that’s one hell of a girl.
Hannah afforded me a wink as she closed the door behind my brothers. I watched her as she walked down the hall toward where the bedrooms must be, the sway of her ass as hypnotic as a metronome. Shit, you could keep time by its rhythm. Between that and her power play, my pants were starting to get tight.
“Nice job picking the scary one,” Reid whispered to me, and I was sure he’d kept his voice low to avoid Hannah’s wrath. “Really, I mean it. That’s a stellar sense of self-preservation you got there.”
“She loves her sisters and wants to take care of them,” I replied, but my eyes were still glued to the hallway, chasing her retreating form. “I get that.”
And I did. I understood it all too well. It was a battle I’d been fighting practically my whole life—certainly for as long as I could remember. Maybe me and Hannah were more alike than I’d thought.
We sat in silence for a minute or two before one of the doors opened down the hall. A second later it closed, and Hannah returned to the room with Beth and Sarah in tow. They weren’t dressed anywhere near as modern as Hannah was—she was wearing a blouse with the Misfits logo on it and low-slung, metallic gray skinny jeans—but they’d shed their aprons and bonnets at least, leaving them in the same type of conservative, black dresses I’d seen them wearing back at Trick Shots. Sarah’s strawberry-blonde hair was down and straight, glossy and even like it had just been styled and cut, while Beth wore hers back in a ponytail the color of fresh hay. They were both wearing the barest traces of makeup—nothing fancy, but they weren’t exactly the same fresh-faced girls who’d wandered into a bar just the night before.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Wyatt and Reid gaping at them like they’d both only just discovered women for the first time. I didn’t even bother hiding my smile as Hannah looked hard at Reid, put her hands on her hips, and said, “Well?”
He practically vaulted from his chair. “Sarah. You look great.”
Sarah’s cheeks flushed, and she twisted her hair between her fingers. In a mousey voice that was just barely audible, she answered, “I’m… glad you think so.”
“You look awesome,” Wyatt said to Beth, and it was all I could do not to laugh out loud at his attempt to one-up Reid’s lackluster compliment. Beth regarded him with a wide grin and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, resembling a lost puppy once more.
“I’d look better if Sarah hadn’t insisted on us wearing these…” she said, scowling at her sister and indicating her dress. She changed expressions so quickly it almost gave me whiplash. “How are we supposed to have any fun if we’re tripping over our skirts the entire time?”
“We’ll figure something out,” I said to Beth, though I couldn’t convince my eyes to leave Hannah. “Let it never be said that the Brody Bunch can’t show their girls a good time—come rain, sleet, snow, or ankle-length hemlines.”
When I smirked, Hannah regarded me with a similar expression and a slight squint that told me she’d enjoyed my little quip. She didn’t say so out loud, though, and I knew she wouldn’t—there was no way she was going to blow her cover. She thought it was better if her sisters didn’t know that she and I were acquainted. She thought that if they felt like she was going through the same things they were—the introductions, the experience of getting to know one another—then they’d feel more comfortable with opening up to my brothers. That suited me just fine. It played right into my stupid lie.
Recalling the bet wiped the smug look off my face. Sooner or later, I was going to have to ‘fess up—to Hannah surely, but also my brothers. Wyatt didn’t worry me so much. He had a kind streak a mile wide when it came to women. But Reid could love ‘em and leave ‘em just as easily as I could. I was going to have to drop the pretense before someone got hurt.
Just not yet. Not now, when everything was going so well. Let them get attached first. Then they’d have reason to keep up the protection detail outside of one-upping each other like horny teenagers.
“We should get going,” Reid said, placing his hand on Sarah’s back and guiding her toward the door. “You ever take a spin in a classic car before?”
I rolled my eyes. No, idiot, I though
t, watching them go. What part of “Amish” don’t you understand?
Wyatt and Beth were next to leave, practically sprinting out the door, talking excitedly about trucks and how they were nothing like buggies—Beth was pretty into horses, apparently, and seemed stoked about the petting zoo—which gave me a few moments alone with Hannah, who eyed me from across the room. As I took a few steps toward her, she pursed her lips and said, “Your brothers have better manners than I’d expected. Wish I could say the same for you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Huh?” Then she gestured to her ensemble, to her gorgeous hair and figure-hugging jeans, and I cracked a sheepish grin. “Oh. Right. Sorry, I’m… kind of an idiot.” My self-deprecation earned me a twinkle in her moss-colored eyes. Clearing my throat, I affected my best posh accent and said, “You look ravishing, my dear. Simply stupendous.”
Hannah wrinkled her nose. “Sexy?” she asked me.
I nodded, taking my time as I let my gaze roam over her. There was no part of her I failed to appreciate, though I lingered on some more than others. “Exceedingly.”
She placed her arms behind her back and batted her eyes at me innocently, giving a little sway of her shoulders. “Good enough to fuck?”
I dragged my eyes back up her tight little body to meet hers. “Good enough to eat,” I told her.
Hannah looked satisfied with this response, a mischievous curl of her lips making my dick swell for her against my zipper. My clothes seemed so confining, and hers were just begging me to peel them off her body. I hadn’t seen as much of Hannah as I wanted to yet. Our brief fuck in the bathroom hadn’t allowed for it. I wanted more, and if my brothers were taking care of getting the girls to the fairgrounds, I didn’t see why I couldn’t have Hannah. Right here. Right now.
“I hear beds are more comfortable than sinks,” I said, stalking close enough to glide my fingers over her tiny waist. I felt her ribs expand at my touch. “Wanna find out for sure?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, but left me hanging when she pulled away to grab her car keys. “Another time. Right now, we’ve got a carnival to get to.”
“You’re kidding.” I frowned when I realized she wasn’t. “You’re not even gonna ride on the back of my bike? I was gonna give you my helmet and everything. Like a gentleman!”
That managed to wrest a laugh from between those sultry lips of hers. At least there was that. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t.”
I crossed my arms in mock indignation. “Why not?”
“Because quite frankly, I don’t entirely trust the lot of you.”
Well, shit. Hannah Miller was a lot of things, but coy and dishonest apparently weren’t among them.
Keys in hand, she explained, “What if something happens and the girls want to go home, huh? What if Reid fucks up—let’s be honest, that seems the most likely scenario here—and Sarah wants to leave? If I’m on the back of your bike, she’d have to rely on Reid or Wyatt to take her. Do you think either of the girls would feel comfortable if you and your brothers were their only means of escape?” She shook her head and her dark hair rippled like the surface of a pond. It was magnificent. “I’m taking my car. That way, they’ll be safe.”
Sounded pragmatic enough to me, but I was once again struck by how Hannah always seemed to think of her sisters first. She worried about them so much. Was this a new development, or had this always been the dynamic between them? I wanted to know what she was so scared of. I wanted to know the root of her concerns. I wanted to know why Hannah couldn’t just be straight with her sisters about any potential dangers that might be lurking out here in the “English” world, as the Amish apparently called it. But although we’d spent months working together, on and off depending on my schedule, I didn’t really know thing one about Hannah Miller except that she was strong, passionate, and most of all, guarded. Maybe to a fault.
Softly, I said, “It’s good you’re looking out for them, love. You’re one hell of a big sister.”
A flicker of sadness crossed Hannah’s face, creasing her brow. She covered it with a tilt of her head and a shrug. “That’s my job.”
I let those three words hang for a moment, debating on how to proceed. If ensuring the welfare of her sisters was such an integral part of Hannah, far be it for me to try and subvert that. Especially if I wanted to get closer to her in the future. If that was the goal, then I’d need to show her I was interested in more than all the carnal ways in which she could please me.
Was that what I wanted? That thought alone was enough to give me pause. I’d never been so intrigued by a woman before. I’d never wanted to get to their core so badly. I told myself, often, that I was the Joker—the guy who was here for everyone’s entertainment. Maybe what I was feeling was the dawning realization that I couldn’t be that for Hannah if I didn’t get to the bottom of whatever made her put up those walls. I couldn’t leave her smiling, when this was all said and done, if I didn’t dig a little deeper.
It was out of my comfort zone, but I was surprised to find there was nothing I wanted more.
When I couldn’t come up with anything good to say, Hannah chuckled and spun her keys around her finger. “Come on, Ash. You can ride with me. What’s the motorcycle term for that?” She appeared to ponder this for a minute. “Oh, right.” A jade flash of her eyes; a self-satisfied quirk of her lips. “You can ride bitch.”
I cocked a brow. I’d already resolved to respect Hannah’s boundaries… but I just could not let that remark stand.
Her hand was in the air, still twirling her keys, and I grabbed her wrist hard, pressing my thumb against her pulse. I felt it quicken as I pushed forward with my body, pinning Hannah between me and the wall in one fell swoop. Her breath caught as I slid my free hand up to guard the back of her head, but when her back impacted, she let out a low sound. “Oh…”
Hannah’s keys slipped from her grasp and dropped to the ground. Neither of us so much as glanced at them. I only stared into her eyes as I slid up against her body, the hard, hot length of my cock riding along the center seam of her jeans.
I felt the quake in her knees as I said, “How well do you think you know me, Hannah?”
“Not very,” she admitted in a wispy breath. She was doing her best to keep her chin up, keep the fire of defiance in her eyes, but I could tell by the way she parted her lips she wanted—badly—to sink her teeth into her lower one. A nervous habit, I reckoned. One she worked hard at overcoming. I’d seen Sarah do it at the bar. Must’ve been one of those things that ran in the family. Hannah obviously saw it as a weakness; she would not allow herself that kind of vulnerability in front of me. Nor would she allow her gaze to dip to my mouth as she so clearly wanted to. The struggle was written in the tightness of her face. In the tension around her eyes. In the subtle tremble of her irises.
With a slight flex I pressed harder into her, grinding my erection up between where her hip met her thigh, skirting the warmth I could feel radiating through her jeans. Her free hand shot out, seeking purchase along my belt, her fingers for one entrancing moment working at the buckle, but I seized her other wrist just as easily as I’d done the first and held both arms over her head, against the wall behind her. Hannah arched, and I was reminded of how her body had moved against the mirror in the Trick Shots bathroom, her legs up and around me as she balanced precariously on the sink.
“That’s right,” I murmured, my mouth close to hers, “you hardly know me at all. So you don’t know what I’m capable of.” And in one, quick move, I flipped her around, her ass pressing against my hips as I rocked into her, driving my point home.
Hannah moaned. She tossed her hair and bent in a smooth, downward arc, spine bowed, ass jutting. My cock spat precome against my zipper and I snarled, wanting so badly to rip her clothes off, to jam her jeans down around her ankles and ruin another pair of panties for her. I needed that warm, wet slice of heaven between her quivering legs. I knew she needed it too. I could smell it on her.
“I don’t do anything ‘bitch’,” I whispered in her ear. Then I captured her lobe between my teeth, gave a soft suck, and set her hands free. “But I am ready to go when you are.”
I did my best to flash her my most irreverent grin as she slowly turned, a look of disbelief—and frustration—plain on her face. Her eyes blazed as she bent to pick up her keys, a sharp contrast to the darkness of her scowl.
“Get the hell out of my house,” she said, but I could tell by the way her breasts heaved she’d be joining me shortly—and that she’d let me back in anytime I wanted.
I strutted out to my bike, shaking my head and trying to hide my smile. I liked this game we were playing. It felt good. It felt… real.
Though I still couldn’t remember why the fairgrounds seemed so important, like I was forgetting something. I wasn’t about to let that nag me until it ruined my fun, though.
Had I stopped to think about it for a few moments longer, I might’ve saved us all a world of trouble.
5
Hannah
I would never forget the first time I went to the fair.
It was damn near two years ago, not long after I’d left the Amish community I’d spent my whole life in, desperate for greener pastures. I’d known I didn’t belong there anymore—that my continued presence there would only bring more misery and shame down on my head. I couldn’t live like that. I couldn’t spend the rest of my days in quiet desperation, praying until my hands bled that God would, just this once, be wrathful.
Amish culture was all about forgiveness. Clean slates. The washing away of sin. But some sins were so terrible, so evil, that they shouldn’t ever be forgotten. For some, there should be no opportunity for penance.
That was just one of many reasons I belonged out here, in the English world. I didn’t have much to start out with—some stolen money, an ex-Amish friend who’d never come back from Rumspringa himself, and a good bead on how to secure an apartment—but at least I had my freedom.
The Brody Bunch Collection: Bad Boy Romance Page 22