Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  Barely catching a glimpse of the starched white shirt of the waiter, I hold up my hand just in time to stop him.

  “Yes?” he asks and I order two rounds of black rose shots, which are a mix of vodka and tequila and the restaurant’s drink of choice. Plus another whiskey sour. I greatly underestimated this conversation and the need for alcohol to go along with it.

  “Anything else?” the waiter asks and Addison pipes up. With her hands folded in her lap, she orders the bruschetta.

  It’s only once the waiter’s left that she leans forward, tucking her hair behind her ear and says, “I didn’t eat much today.”

  “Get whatever you’d like,” I tell her easily and keep my gaze from wandering straight down her blouse. It’s only a peek. Only a hint at what’s under the thin cotton, but I can see the lace of her bra and it begs me to look.

  “I have to get this off my chest.” Her words distract me and looking at the serious expression in her eyes I’m irritated again, but I keep my lips shut tight. It will be worth it when it’s over with. It better be.

  “I just … even that day when I left, I didn’t want you to think that I didn’t appreciate everything.”

  She has no fucking idea. How is it even possible that she could be so blind?

  She lived under our roof. It was off and on for nearly a year while the two of them dated. Tyler insisted. And the nights she didn’t stay felt off toward the end. Each and every time she left I thought it was my doing.

  But she always came back.

  Tyler wasn’t one to make demands, but he wanted her there with him. He wanted her protected and cared for. And when he told us why, when he told us what she’d been through, my father agreed.

  It wasn’t just that she had a tragic backstory. That she’d lost her parents and had no one.

  It was the story of her previous foster father that changed my father’s mind.

  You could see it in the way Addison shied away from everything and everyone. And how she didn’t want to go back to a stranger’s house and hope nothing like that ever happened again.

  She was safe with us. Even if she felt like she was intruding, every one of us wanted her there.

  Even more so after we paid that sick fuck a visit.

  It wasn’t in Tyler’s nature to want to hurt someone. Addison had a good way of bringing out a different part of him. She’s good at that, at bringing out facets of your personality that were dormant before.

  Carter was the one who decided when and how we’d take care of the asshole who’d touched her the year before. He was forty years old with a fifteen-year-old girl under his care.

  Carter decided all five of us would go together while Addison was at class. The drive was only three hours away. Too long to do it at night, because she’d have noticed. But we had plenty of time during the day.

  Carter always has a plan, and I was supposed to go around the back. Which is right where the asshole was raking up leaves.

  I’d never killed anyone with gardening equipment before. I still wonder what it would have been like had I used the sharp tines of the metal but the damn thing broke in half. The spike of the splintered wooden handle worked well enough.

  He got out one scream, if you can even call it that. More of a pathetic cry.

  My family may have sheltered her.

  I killed for her.

  Tyler should have told her back then, and I have a mind to tell her now. But I don’t break promises, not even to the dead.

  So I keep that little bit of our history to myself.

  The memory gives me the strength to look her in the eyes as I tell her, “You care a lot about what other people think. You’d be happier if you didn’t.”

  “I’m not sure I would be,” she answers softly with the corners of her lips turned down.

  Again, the alcohol saves the conversation. The shots hit the table one by one.

  “I think you need a drink.”

  I sure as fuck do. I didn’t have her come here for a heart to heart. This isn’t going how I’d planned. Wine and dine and fuck her is what I wanted. The first two I could take or leave, but the last I’ve needed for so long.

  “I could use one … or six,” she jokes and pulls her hair over her shoulder, twirling the dark locks around her finger.

  Addison’s entire demeanor changes as she watches the dark purple shot swirl in the glass.

  “Thank you,” she says as she smiles up at the waiter.

  “Cheers.” I tilt my shot toward her in jest and down it before she can say otherwise. No salutes to the dead, or to anything else for that matter.

  When my glass hits the table, Addison’s is just reaching her lips.

  Everything about the way she drinks it turns me on. From the way her slender fingers hold the glass, to the way her throat moves as she swallows.

  A million images of how she’d look as she sucks my cock are going through my head until she speaks again.

  “You make me feel …” she trails off and hesitates to continue.

  “Scared?” I offer her. I’m used to making certain people feel that way. Only when I need them to remember what I’m capable of.

  “No … unworthy.” I’m struck by her candor.

  “If you think that, it’s because you’ve come to that conclusion on your own.”

  “You’ve always made me think that. Even back when I was with Tyler.” My spine stiffens hearing her bring him up so casually this time. Like it’s easy to use his name in conversation.

  “Your bruschetta,” the waiter says, setting the plate down in the center of the table. I’ve never wanted to kill a waiter for delivering an appetizer before. Not until this moment.

  He starts to speak again and I cut him off. “We’re good here, thank you.” My words are rushed and hard and I pray for his sake he takes the fucking hint.

  My gaze moves from him to Addison, and her expression makes me regret it.

  “You made me think that when I got here.” Addison looks as if she’s debating on eating. I guess the topic has ruined her appetite. It takes me a second to remember what she even said … unworthy.

  “You were late.”

  “I got here as soon as I could,” she protests weakly. As if she’s truly apologetic and the part that pisses me off the most is that I know she is.

  “If you don’t want me to be angry, then don’t make me wait.” I’m wound tighter and tighter by the second. It’s amazing how a girl like Addison can tempt my self-control.

  “You didn’t have to wait. You can go,” she retorts, saying each word while staring straight into my eyes. Daring me.

  I smile. “I don’t want to leave.”

  The anger in her features softens at my response. “I just hit traffic.”

  A heavy breath comes and goes as I settle back in my seat, watching for her reaction. This tit for tat is different for me. “It’s fine,” I tell her, hoping to end it. And move back to the plan.

  “Why do you look at me like that?” she asks me and I still.

  “How is it that I look at you?” I ask her to clarify. It’s usually so easy to manipulate others into seeing me how I need them to. But Addison is observant beyond measure. She always has been. And she’s always been different.

  “Like you don’t trust me. Or maybe you don’t know what to expect from me.”

  I shrug. “I don’t trust anyone. Don’t take it personal.”

  She laughs and her shoulders shake slightly. “Maybe that’s because of the people you hang out with?” she suggests and quirks a brow at me.

  “I don’t hang out with anyone.” I answer her simply, with no emotion. Merely stating a truth.

  She hums a response and reaches out for a piece of the toasted bread. As she bites into it, the bread crunches loudly and diced tomatoes fall into her hand. She actually blushes, and after she swallows she says defensively, “You should eat some, it’s weird with you just watching me.”

  I let a rough chuckle vibrate up my chest. “I
’m not hungry.”

  “I hate being rude and eating it all myself, but the alcohol is already hitting me.”

  Good. I don’t say the thought out loud.

  As she wipes her hands on her napkin, I ask her, “What is it that you want from me, Addison?” My hands clench under the table as I wait. I know exactly what I want from her. To fuck her out of my system. To be done with an obsession from long ago.

  She shoots me a sweet, genuine smile and the blush grows hotter on her face. “I think it’s the alcohol talking.”

  Her smile is addictive and I feel my own lips twitch up into a lopsided grin. “Why’s that?”

  “Because I want to tell you I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you.”

  I feel myself swallow. I feel everything in this moment. Watching her blush and smile at me like that, I want more of it. I don’t know if it’s the vodka, the tequila or the wine. Maybe a combination of the three. But whatever’s making her blush, she needs more of it.

  My heart beats rapidly and my cock hardens to the point where it’s nearly unbearable.

  As she covers her face with her hands, the waiter walks by casually and I reach out, fisting his shirt and stopping him in his tracks.

  The look on his face is a mix of shock and fear. But I’m quick to loosen my grip and tell him, “More shots.”

  Chapter 11

  Addison

  When I’m drunk, I have some odd thoughts. Some do make sense. For instance, how many shots did we have? That one seems like a logical thought, and I’m not sure of the exact answer, but at least three. Which is probably three too many but with how tense and awkward I was at the start of dinner, maybe three was just the right number.

  Also, what happened to my car? I should be concerned about that. But I’m drunk, so walking seems smart. I keep my feet moving, one after the other even though I sway slightly. Only slightly though.

  The thought that matters the most and the one I keep coming back to is whether or not Daniel can see how my hands keep trembling.

  I’m sure the heat in my cheeks is obvious. And the butterflies in my stomach aren’t staying where they ought to. They fly up and mess with my heart. Fluttering wildly and with an anxiousness that makes it feel like they’re caged and trying to escape.

  Maybe it’s normal for what I’m doing.

  When you want to kiss someone who’s obviously a dick, it makes sense that your body would feel anxious and like you should run, right? Not to mention I’m sure he’s still dealing. When your family’s business is crime, you don’t exactly walk away from that life. This heated nervousness won’t leave me. I can’t stop fidgeting with my hands and I’m sure it’s ridiculous, but what else could be expected of me?

  And then there’s the fact that he’s my ex’s brother. An ex who’s gone. And in many ways, it’s because of me. It should make me feel worse than I do. But in a lot of ways, it feels the same way as running has. Only this time, I’m running to Daniel. A man I’ve dreamed for so long would comfort me and tell me these feelings were alright.

  Obviously, that never happened. And I’m not sure it ever will.

  There’s a part of my mind that won’t stop picking at that fact. A part that wonders how Daniel can even stand to be around me. A part that wonders if he’s only toying with me. Like he’s waiting to get his revenge and tell me how he truly feels.

  And that’s the part that scares me when I look up at him. I don’t care how many times he’ll tell me that no one blames me. How could they not?

  I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m too afraid to stop, because I really want to find out. I’m too eager to finally know what it feels like to be wanted by him.

  “You’re so nervous,” he says as if he’s amused.

  “Aren’t you?”

  His smile dims and he runs his hand through his hair, looking to his left at the stop sign. “Let’s go to my place.”

  We’re standing on the corner of Church and Fifth and I know I just need to go six blocks and I’ll be two streets over from my apartment building … I think. There are bus stops everywhere in this college town. So even if I get lost, I could find my way back home by just hopping on a bus.

  “Your place?” I question him while squinting at the signs. I’m more than a little tipsy. But everything feels so good.

  “Let’s go,” he answers and then takes my hand in his, pulling me across the street even though the sign at the crosswalk is still red.

  “Still a rule breaker,” I tease and I think that one is from the alcohol. I must find it funnier than he does though, because once we’re on the other side, I’m the one smiling at my little joke while he stands there. Staring at me like he’s not sure what to do with me.

  “So you aren’t nervous?” I ask him, daring to broach the subject again. I don’t mind what he does to me. I crave it. And I’ll be damned if he tells me he doesn’t want me. I can see it in his eyes.

  But what exactly he wants me for? That I have yet to know for sure.

  A good fuck seems to be first on the list though. And I can’t argue with that.

  “I don’t get nervous.”

  “Everyone gets nervous.” The words slip out of my mouth and I tell him about a study my friend Rae told me about. She’s a psychology major and she told me about public speakers and how even professional public speakers’ adrenaline levels spike when they get on the stage. Everyone gets nervous. “There’s no denying it.”

  “If you say so, Addison.” That’s all I get from him as the night air seems to get colder and I shiver. That’s when I notice he’s still holding my hand.

  “This doesn’t make you nervous? It doesn’t make you question if … if we should be doing this?” I lift up our clasped hands and he lets me, but he doesn’t stop walking.

  “Why shouldn’t we?” he responds, but I hear the hard edge in his voice. He knows.

  “There are so many reasons,” I tell him and look straight ahead.

  “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers and the way he does it makes me giggle. A silly little girl giggle that would embarrass me if I wasn’t on the left side of tipsy.

  “Anything,” I breathe.

  “I was jealous that Tyler got to have you.”

  I nearly stumble and my smile slips. That erratic beating in my chest makes me want to reach up and pound on my heart to knock it off.

  He continues once I get my footing back. “You were too young and Tyler got to you first.”

  I walk with my lips parted, but not knowing what to say or do.

  Daniel’s arm moves to my waist as his steps slow and I look up to see a row of houses. Cute little houses a few blocks from the university campus. They’re the type of houses that come equipped with white picket fences and for the second time in fifteen minutes, I nearly trip.

  “How drunk are you?” Daniel questions with a serious tone.

  “Sorry, not that drunk,” I answer him as we walk up the paved drive to the front door of a cute house with blue shutters. My heart won’t knock it off, but I ignore it and change the subject. “This is your place?”

  “Just renting.”

  I nod my head and as much as that makes sense, it’s also one less thing to question. And now I find myself on the front steps of Daniel’s place, with his hand on mine. Drunk after I’ve confessed to him how I feel.

  Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done, and not the best decision I’ve made in my life.

  But maybe I’ll wake up in five minutes, and this will just be another one of my dreams.

  My breathing comes in pants as Daniel lets his hand travel lower down my back and I instantly heat everywhere for him. My heart pounds and my blood pressure rises. I’m almost afraid of how my body is reacting so intensely. He has to see it, but if he does, he doesn’t let on.

  I don’t need Rae or a shrink or anyone to tell me I’m going to regret this. I know that already.

  Maybe I can blame it on the alcohol.

  Or the
sudden flood of memories.

  Sleep deprivation, that’s a good excuse too.

  I don’t care what I blame it on. So long as it happens. I wanted him for so long, even if it was from a distance. An unrequited and forbidden lust, not love. I refuse to believe it was love.

  I lost the chance long ago to have what I always wanted. There’s no way I won’t push for it now.

  I watch as Daniel reaches for the doorknob but stops, dropping his hand and directing his gaze to me.

  “What are you thinking?” Daniel asks me and instinctively I look up at him, swallowing hard and licking my lips. I love how his eyes flicker to them and I hesitantly reach up, spearing my fingers through his hair.

  And he lets me.

  He lowers his lips and gently brushes them against mine although he doesn’t kiss me yet. The lingering scents of whiskey and vodka mingle with my lust and love of bad decisions, giving me a heady feeling.

  “I always knew you were bad for me,” I whisper against his lips as he bends down to kiss me. To actually press his hot lips against mine this time. His tongue demands entrance, licking against the seam of my lips and I grant him his wish. The heated kiss is short-lived and I’m left breathless.

  I can feel his smile as he pulls away, taking the key from his pocket and licking his lower lip. I love how he does it like that. Slow and sensual and like he’s hiding a secret that thrills him to no end.

  “Bad for you doesn’t even begin to cover it, Addison.”

  Chapter 12

  Daniel

  Barely contained.

  Everything about me is barely contained. All I can think about is ripping off Addison’s clothes and finally getting inside her tight cunt. I know she wants me. She’s sighing softly every time I let my skin touch hers, filling the night air with her little pants of need.

  Tiny touches. It started out as a way to tease her as we walked back to the house I’m renting. Little caresses that made me smile at her desperation.

  She’s so responsive. So needy.

  I can’t fucking stand it.

  I’ve always known I was selfish. It’s something my father said I inherited from him. He looked at me with pride when he said it too.