by Lauren Dane
“I’ve got strong arms, I’ll roll you.” She tossed herself next to him, putting her feet up on the low table. He reached out and grabbed her feet, pulling them into his lap, starting to massage them. “Oh, you don’t want that.” She tried to pull back, but he held on.
“Oh, but I do. Woman, you do for people over and over. Let me do for you.”
“Dancers have horribly ugly feet.” She blushed.
“You have no idea what ugly is. Believe me. You’re fine. Are the girls okay?”
She rolled her eyes, but let him work, even arching and groaning when he kneaded her insteps.
“I figured they’d be awake all night, but they’re both conked out. I guess the game and the pizza and all that running around they did ran ’em down. The silence is so lovely.”
“I like your voice.”
“Thank you. You know, you give really wonderful compliments. As it happens, I like yours. It’s like a hot toddy after being out in the snow for an hour. Warm and sinful, and it makes me all melty inside.”
“Damn, now that is probably the most awesome compliment I’ve ever received.”
She blushed. “Why tattooing? What made you do it?”
“I’ve always loved to draw, and for a time I was big into animation. I was headed to art school, but life threw me into another direction and I had to get a job. A friend of mine had a tattoo shop, and he hired me on to clean up the place at night and help out with whatever they needed. The hours were good, he let me work around when Adrian and Erin were in school. It really didn’t take me that long to realize tattooing was an art and to get into it. Ron, the guy who owned the shop and pretty much taught me everything I know, let me apprentice. I was good at it right away. Probably because I was too stupid to be worried I wouldn’t be.”
“Or maybe, Brody Brown, perhaps you accepted it the way you accept that you’re good at just about everything else I’ve seen you do. Some people are gifted. It’s okay to be proud of that.”
That struck deep in a place he seldom delved into. He took care of others. He was proud of Erin and Adrian and celebrated all their successes. But sometimes . . . sometimes he forgot he had his own accomplishments worthy of praise. And it was quite often Erin or Adrian who reminded him.
Interesting. Now it was Brody who blushed. Elise liked that, liked that she had looked long and hard enough and she’d glimpsed some secret part of him.
“Anyway, it went pretty quickly from there. Within five years I had my own shop when the owner sold to me. He’s living in Hawaii now, surfing and watching hot chicks in bikinis all day. He deserves it. Believed in me when no one else wanted to take on an eighteen-year-old raising two siblings.”
“I’ve seen your work on Erin. She showed me the tree of life on her back. It’s amazing. You’re really talented.”
“I do okay, yeah. That one is special to me, of course. It started with small stuff and kept growing until it took up her entire back and we wrapped it around her hips too.”
“Covers her scars, but memorializes what happened to her too. It’s a positive thing.”
He sighed. “I hope so. She’s had a lot to deal with. More than anyone should. I expect, given the shadow in your eyes, you know a little bit about dealing with things.”
She shrugged. “It’s amazing how one bad choice can snowball into something you can’t stop until it ends horribly. But it’s over and I survived. Rennie is relatively untouched by it although she does go to play therapy once a month.”
“What happened, Elise? Obviously it was her father, right?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded. She kept her voice low, mindful of Rennie asleep upstairs. “I’m not the only one with a story like this. I’m not a special snowflake. My ex-husband was an abusive, mentally-ill junkie. Thank God he was in jail for most of my pregnancy with Rennie.”
“Was that who called today? Because if so, I’m totally free to show a man what it feels like to be pounded on by someone bigger than he is.”
Unable to resist, she traced her finger over his lips. “Thanks, but no, it wasn’t him. He’s dead. It was his mother trying to bully me. It’s her pattern.” She shrugged. It wasn’t a mystery that she hadn’t met Ken’s parents until after she and Ken had eloped to Vegas. Once she’d met them, she knew she wouldn’t have married him if she’d been exposed to them for any time at all prior to the wedding.
“Can’t you block her number?”
“No. The phone is for them to call Rennie once a month. It’s better than them having my home number or knowing where we live. Anyway, she’s vile and horrid and I hate her more than I ever hated her son. Thankfully, she lives in New York and we don’t.”
“Some people are assholes.”
“Yes.”
“We should make out.”
She looked up, surprised, and then she laughed, launching herself into his lap.
11
Brody’s car was in his driveway as she moved to the front door. He’d received a package, and for some reason, they’d left it on her doorstep.
She knocked and heard the stereo on the other side of the door and what distinctly sounded like a call to come in.
She set the package down on his kitchen counter and headed toward where she heard sounds.
What greeted her was the sight of Brody, standing in his doorway, back against the doorjamb, stroking his cock. His eyes were closed, his head back. At first she blushed from head to toe, but then he groaned and she gulped, probably making a sound of her own, and those big brown eyes opened as he started and relaxed once he saw it was her.
She should have turned around and left, she should have at least looked away, but she stayed rooted to the spot. “I’m sorry. I uh, I heard the stereo and thought you said come in. I got a package, or well it’s your package and they left it on my porch and . . .”
Keeping his eyes on her, he went back to work. His fist held his cock tight as he pumped it up and down.
Her breath gusted from her. What a sight he made, totally nude, his hair wet from the shower, body so gorgeous he could have been in a skin mag right then. So beautiful, so totally in charge of his sexuality, it floored her.
Her nipples beaded and her pussy slicked. All she could do was watch as he jerked himself off, as he fisted his cock over and over. The head gleamed with pre-come and the muscles in his forearm were taut.
“I was showering and all I could think about was you. The way you make those soft sigh-moans when I put my mouth on your cunt.”
The word was hard, not one she was used to. A word she’d always associated with a gender slur more than a body part. But the way he said it was not derogatory. The way he said it made her mentally play it over her tongue because it sounded evocative.
“It’s such a pretty cunt, Elise. All those sweet, slippery folds, and you get so wet when I eat you. Your clit swells up and you get all breathy. I couldn’t stop thinking about what it feels like when you come on my face, your sticky honey tastes so good. I was supposed to go back to work, but as I stood here in my bedroom and remembered the last time you were here and we fucked against this doorjamb, I had to touch my cock. I can’t go back to work this way.”
She knew what he meant. She had to pick Rennie up in half an hour, and if women could have blue balls, or blue clit she supposed, she’d have a raging case.
He kept fucking his fist as she watched, until she knew he was very close. She stepped to him and dropped to her knees, licking the head each time his hand moved down until he let go and she took over with her hands and mouth.
The sound he made then set off so much sexual pleasure and need within her, she had to arch a bit to get some friction against her clit from the seam of her jeans. Little frissons of delight skittered through her.
His hands in her hair tightened a bit as he came, filling her with his cock, with his taste, with satisfaction at making him feel this way. She kissed him until he’d softened, and then he helped her stand and took her mouth in a kiss so ha
rd, so raw she felt like he’d pulled away two layers of skin.
“Good god. Where did you come from?”
“I’m the neighbor who just barges in.”
He laughed and kissed her again. “Feel free to barge in anytime you want. Shit, I really have to go to work. Let me help you out.” He reached down, but she stopped his hand.
“I have to go pick Rennie up. You can make it up to me, but I’m going to tell you something, so I hope it doesn’t go to your head. Just seeing you there like that, seeing you with your cock in your hand, giving yourself pleasure and then finishing you? That was, whoo, guh, hot. I’m going to be, um, working that into my own self-pleasure routine.”
“Oh man, you did not just tell me that you masturbate thinking of me, not right when I have to leave.”
He pulled on pants and socks, grabbed a sweatshirt and yanked it over his head.
“Oh, I do. I’ve been . . . doing that since the first time I saw you over here. Before we’d even met.”
They walked out together and he stopped her at his car. “Next time we’re together I want to watch.”
“Oh.”
He grinned and got into the driver’s seat. “I’ll see you soon. And then I’ll see you with your fingers buried in your cunt and watch you, see what you like.”
Her face heated as she smiled. “You already know what I like.”
“Man can always learn more.”
Brody had thought of her and that scene for the rest of the day. He wasn’t able to see her that night or for the next few because their schedules were off. Thanksgiving was coming and he’d been dealing with that. With employee schedules and shop hours and making sure Erin didn’t have a freaking heart attack doing all the planning. It would be the first time she hosted it with Ben and Todd, and they were expecting a full house. Even Todd’s father, whom he’d been estranged from for some time, had agreed to come. That had been a huge deal for Todd and, because of that, for Erin too.
Brody pulled up into his driveway a week after that incredible afternoon, and as always, his gaze moved to the house across the street and he caught sight of her through the front window. Hugging a man. Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot?
Before he knew what he was doing, he was striding across the street just to see what the hell was going on.
She answered the door, happy and slightly harried, and he sent her a raised brow. “Busy?”
She cocked her head at him. “Hey, Brody. Wanna come in?”
“Sure.” He walked in, smiling as he heard Rennie singing at the top of her lungs. “I noticed you had company. Am I interrupting?”
“What is up your butt?” she asked, her voice low.
“Look, I know you’re not wearing my frat pin or whatever.” He mimicked what she’d said that first day. “But we agreed not to see other people.”
Her puzzled look dissolved into a grin, followed by laughter. “You’re jealous?”
“Am not.”
She only laughed harder. “Daddy? Mama? Come on out here, I want you to meet my neighbor and our very good friend.”
“Christ.” Her dad. He’d just thrown a jealous tantrum over her father. Great.
She just nodded, tears from her laughter leaking down her face. “I have to deal with Raven all the time; you got jealous of my father.”
Rennie’s singing had stopped and she came thundering downstairs with her grandparents in tow.
The woman at Rennie’s left was very clearly Elise’s mother. Taller by four inches or so, a little bit rounder and softer, but the same piercing blue eyes, the same pale blonde hair. Even the same cheekbones.
“Wow, I’d say someone has some pretty dominant genes. I can see where you and Rennie get your good looks.”
“You didn’t say he was so charming in that introduction.” The woman swept forward, holding a hand out to Brody. “I’m Martine DuLac. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Rennie has been telling us all about you.”
“All good things, I hope.”
The father made one of those Gallic sounds that said everything and yet nothing at all. He even gave the shrug.
“This is my father, Paul.” Elise smiled to the man who’d approached her and kissed the top of her head. Where Elise and her mother were elegant beauties, this man was broad and dark. Green eyes took Brody in from head to toe and back again. He even had those professor eyebrows that only seemed acceptable on men like Paul DuLac.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Brody offered his hand and the other man took it.
“You staying for dinner? My father has been cooking all day. Roast chicken. He’s a really good cook.”
“Since I was going to nuke something or call for takeout, I’ll accept that invitation.” He looked to her parents. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
Martine began to assure him they were more than happy, Rennie hooted her approval, and Paul continued to check him out.
“Can I help set the table or anything?”
Paul pointed at Brody. “You and I will have some wine. Rennie is going to go wash up, and the ladies will go into the kitchen and pretend they’re the ones who cooked dinner, while the men have wine and talk about worldly, manly things. When, in reality, I do most of the cooking and they know I’m going to be grilling you.” Paul shooed his wife and daughter from the room and turned to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Elise said something in French to her father, and he snorted at her before turning her around and giving her a gentle push from the room. Brody laughed and nodded at her. He could hold his own, and in truth, he liked that her father wanted to know who the hell he was.
“My granddaughter talks about you all the time. You see them both a lot?” Paul handed Brody a glass and sat across from him.
“I see them both a few times a week. I’m glad Rennie likes me. I happen to think your granddaughter is an exceptional person.”
“Like her mother.”
Brody nodded. “Yes, sir. Exactly like her mother. Strong, intelligent, funny, pretty, talented too.”
“Enough with the ‘sir,’ already.” Paul waved a hand. “Paul is fine. So what are your intentions toward my girls?”
He wasn’t going to ask for her hand or anything, so why did he want Elise’s father to like him and approve of him? He’d never met the father of any woman he’d seen before. It was odd. “Elise is my friend. I feel protective of her and I enjoy her company. I would not harm either one of them, not ever.”
“Is this romantic then? This entanglement?”
He laughed. “It’s not an entanglement, but sure, it’s romantic. I’m not going to treat her wrong, Paul. Elise is special, but she can hold her own. Anyone can see that. What brings you and the missus out west?”
“Nicely done. Let me just say that while my wife is very cultured and knows about forks and serving plates and other nonsense, I grew up scrapping in the streets of the ghetto I was raised in. Don’t hurt my girls. I made a big mistake with that piece of trash Elise married before, but it nearly got her killed and she’s paying for it even today. Martine and I are here because Elise is our only living child and Rennie is our grandbaby. We’re older, we have the ability to move, and that’s what we’re doing even if my daughter throws a fit. She needs support of family. We’re family, eh? This is what family does. And it’s cold in New York. Not so much here. We like the green. We like being where our girls are. Know anyone selling a house?” And just like that, he became friendly now that his message had been delivered. Brody liked the dude.
Elise poked her head in and smiled at Brody. “Time to eat. Daddy, stop harassing Brody. Rennie, girl, wash those hands!” Brody couldn’t get the words about her almost being killed out of his head. What the fuck? Had she used with the ex? No, there was no way she could have continued her career in such intense focus and with that much success if she was on the pipe. Abuse sounded more likely. Good thing that asshole was dead, or Brody would feel the need to pay him a visit.
Elise had to admit s
he liked seeing him at her table. It wasn’t the first time he’d eaten with them or anything. But she liked it when he was in her life. She felt safe with him around, even loved the way he was with Rennie. Not fatherly, but he enjoyed her, that was clear. He listened to her stories and songs, laughed at her knockknock jokes and even showed up from time to time at the park when her soccer team practiced.
He also looked hot. Smoking, ridiculously drool-worthy hot. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but he simply emanated sexy effortlessly. Shorts and T-shirt, sexy. Jeans and a turtleneck? Holy crap sexy.
Her father looked smug, which meant he must have been pleased with whatever Brody’s responses had been. The two of them were a lot alike, big, powerful, but they listened more than they spoke, which was a very good personality trait.
“Rennie, you need to chew or you’re going to choke.” Brody grinned at her. “It’s good stuff, I know. But it looks like your grandfather made enough that you can take a breath every once in a while and chew. My Heimlich is rusty.”
A discussion then broke out about soccer and school and other things of huge importance in Rennie’s life, including her BFF Nina. Elise’s parents soaked their granddaughter in, and even though she felt bad that they were moving across the country, leaving behind their life in New York, she was thrilled she’d have them around again.
“I should have made a cake. I didn’t know we’d have such handsome company.” Her mother blushed prettily at Brody, and Elise wisely withheld her amused snort.
“Oh, I’m sure I wouldn’t have had room for it anyway. The chicken and potatoes and the greens and bread were more than enough.”
“I was asking Brody if he knew anyone selling a house. He said he didn’t, but he knew a real estate agent, so I’ll be calling him tomorrow.” Her father sent her a smug smile that told her Brody was on their side.
“If you insist. Brody knows everyone, so you’re in good hands if he refers you.”
Brody laughed. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
She touched his arm, liking how warm and solid he was. “A compliment. I save my insults for when we’re alone.”