Trust Me
Matty and Kayla, Book Two
The McDaniels Brothers
Christine Bell
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Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
The End
Copyrights
Chapter One
Kayla
I heard it before I felt it. The slow, heavy breathing that let me know I wasn't alone. Panic crept in and in that one terrifying second before I opened my eyes, I was in Wisconsin again. Still a child in every way that mattered and at the mercy of a man who was so depraved that, even now, it made bile rise in the back of my throat.
I forced myself to cross that last bridge between sleep and waking and my eyes snapped open.
Dappled sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains and I peered around the room, heart still racing, a cold slick of fear icy in my belly.
I took in the familiar, butternut yellow walls and prim little vanity with a mirror hanging above it that had a little chip right in the center where I’d hit it with a carelessly tossed brush a few months before.
I was at my apartment in Boston. Same place I’d been for the past decade. And breathing heavily beside me wasn't my creepy Uncle Cal. Nope, beside me lay Matthias McDaniels.
My fighter.
My nemesis.
And now, my lover.
I sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly, waiting for my pulse to settle. What was that saying about time healing all wounds? Most of the time, it held true. But at night, for the past eight years, it had seemed like the fragile stitches that held the deepest wound together would start to fray and open up again, leaving behind a gaping maw hungry for more pain.
A night in Matty’s arms had kept the pain at bay for longer than ever before--I turned my head to look at his gorgeous face—and damn, had it been good.
For a while, I just lay there, afraid that even the slightest motion would wake him and send him on his way out the door. But the need to get close enough to touch him and soak up some of the delicious boy-heat pouring off him was too strong to ignore.
I wriggled closer, inch by painstaking inch, until my ass backed into his groin and I could feel his breath tickling the back of my neck. He mumbled in his sleep before slinging a muscular arm around my waist. A thrill skittered through me as I let my eyes drift shut. I could sleep forever like this.
Whatever his faults, Matty McDaniels made me feel safer than I’d felt in years, and I liked it.
A lot.
I took a chance and laced my fingers with his, letting the comfort warm me to the core. Just a few more minutes to fill my soul up for a while and then I'd let him go.
I’d barely gotten comfortable when his muscles tensed and his breathing changed as he shifted, pressing closer to me. He mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep and the feeling that maybe he was at least partly awake was punctuated by a fast growing bulge against my bottom.
It was a bad idea, but I couldn't stop my body from responding, and pressed back against him, mashing his erection more tightly against me as all the feelings he'd awoken in me the night before came rushing back. My muscles remembered it well and clenched as goose bumps broke out on my arms. It had been soooo-
“Fuck,” he groaned against my ear. “Unless that's an invitation for an encore performance, you're going to want to give me some space there, Red.”
I squeezed my eyes closed and almost groaned myself. If he hadn't said anything...just went with the moment and slipped his hand up to cover my breast, rocked against me, maybe I could've pretended I was the one who was half asleep. Then I would've had an excuse to go with the flow and let it happen one more time. Instead, he'd done the honorable thing.
And now I had to do the honorable thing back.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, pulling away. “I-”
“It's okay, we were both out of it. I'm just letting you know, I'm only a man, so you're going to have to give me,” he pulled back and sent a glance downward, “and him some space, is all.”
I nodded, heat rushing to my cheeks.
At that moment, there was nothing in the world I wanted more than to yank that sheet off and shimmy down the bed to get a closer look. To cup him in my hands and feel the weight of him.
Taste him.
I wet my lips and pulled the blankets up to my neck, sure he'd be able to tell how hard my nipples were through the thin cotton.
But sleeping with him again wouldn't be right. I'd already kept the fact that Mickey was my father from him and he’d forgiven me. Now, I had another whopper to contend with and, until or unless I could find a way to tell him about it or convince Mickey to change his mind, I was a betrayer.
If I continued…whatever this was with Matty, it would be wrong on so many levels.
The ache between my thighs didn't lessen in the face of all that solid reasoning, but I managed to put enough space between us that we were no longer touching.
“I want to go on record as saying, if you feel like you didn't get the full experience last night and want another go at it, I'm certainly-”
I cut him off, desperate for him to stop talking. It was only making things worse. “Nope. I'm good. Like you said, we were both just waking up. It would be a terrible idea to keep doing this. I've got enough on my plate dealing with my father and trying to get you ready for the fight with Willie Martin. Last night was great. I- I can't thank you enough for taking the time with me. I'll never forget it.”
I rolled to my side and swung my legs to the floor before tossing a smile over my shoulder.
“I've got a bunch of stuff to do, so don't let me keep you...” The smile I gave him was so strained, it actually hurt my face muscles to maintain, and I nearly wept with relief when he finally nodded and moved to stand.
“Sure thing.”
Perfect. He wasn’t mad at me about Mickey anymore, I’d had my first orgasm, and I barely had a hangover despite drinking a bottle of wine the night before.
All things considered, my life was on the upswing in every way…
So why did everything feel so shitty?
***
Matty
I hadn't known what to expect in the morning. The night had been so emotionally charged and then the sex? Jesus, the sex had been off the chain. Nothing weird, nothing even all that wild, but hot.
Smoking fucking hot, with all those little sounds she made, and the way her body responded.
My cock swelled again and I tried to wipe my mind clear so I could focus on the now. Because right now, I’d just been handed my walking papers.
It was cool. I'd woken once in the middle of the night wondering if I should go even then, but her sweet body had felt so right, and she was sleeping so soundly using my arm as a pillow, I couldn't bring myself to wake her.
There was no question, though, that it had to be a one and done deal. We had to work together, and everyone knew work and sex was a bad combo. But more than that, a night of mind-blowing sex didn't change the fact that she was the daughter of my enemy. This was a no go from day one, and the worst thing either of us could do was fool ourselves into thinking that we could work around that. Romeo and Juliet had tried that shit, and although I skipped that class, I was pretty sure it hadn't worked out for them. Me and Kayla didn't even love each other so it was a fair bet to say that trying to work around Mickey in spite of a major family feud made no sense.
“What’s the plan from here?�
�� I asked, reaching for my shirt and getting a twisted rush of satisfaction when her gaze drifted over my chest and abs one last time before I pulled it over my head. At least I wasn’t the only one left wanting more. “We go back to workouts as usual?”
“I think that's for the best.”
“If Mickey even still wants me. Maybe he’ll cut me loose now. After last night…”
I'd been out of my head pissed off, so I didn't remember all of what I'd said, but I was pretty sure it wasn't good. But was it bad enough to get Mickey to let me out of my contract early just so he didn’t have to see my face again?
“I see the look in your eye, but get it out of your head,” she said, pursing her lips. “Mickey loves me enough that he doesn't take kindly to people talking to me the way you did, but not enough to let someone off the hook when he stands to make money off them. Plus, if other people see him let you walk away without paying your debt, it will make him look weak.”
I knew she was right, but I didn't have to like it. I bent and picked up my gym pants, sliding them on before turning to face her again.
Her hair was a mass of tangled waves around her face, her cheeks were pink from sleep, and she looked distractingly beautiful. I considered asking her to start wearing a mask or maybe a giant name tag to remind me who she was, because I was pretty sure that was the only way I was going to manage to keep my hands off her. Even now, they itched with the need to slide into that hair and tug her closer...
I shook off the urge and shrugged. “We'll see what he says. I'll stick to the plan with training for now, but if anything changes let me know.” I should’ve stopped there, but I couldn’t keep the words from tumbling out of my mouth. “And my offer still stands. If you want help with your MMA stuff, come by and train with me. We can get your chops together and maybe you can do some fighting down the line.”
She nodded but wouldn't meet my gaze. “Yeah, okay. Maybe we should focus on you and then, once we’re past this first fight, we can reassess.”
It made me hate Mickey even more in that moment, because I knew she wanted to. It just wasn't worth losing him over. I had my own opinion of a father who wouldn't let his daughter work toward her dream, but I managed to keep it to myself. It had been a lot easier when Mickey had just been her employer. Now, as much as I couldn't stand the bastard, it seemed cruel to keep driving that point home when said bastard was the only person she loved who loved her back. I’d have to be a special brand of dick to tell her she didn't even have that.
Because I was pretty sure Mickey Flynn didn't love anybody except himself.
I sat back on the edge of the bed and slid into my sneakers, filled with the sudden, intense urge to punish the hell out of them. A long, hard run was definitely in my near future.
“So I guess I'll see you around then.”
“Sounds good.”
When I got to the gym two hours later, I was sweating, starving, irritated and still, in spite of a five-mile run turning into an eight-mile run, fucking horny.
How ridiculous was that? I'd gotten laid the night before and then exhausted my body to the point that my muscles shook with fatigue, and all I could think about was Kayla.
It wasn't normal to be this hung up on a girl when I'd already sampled the goods, but I was hung up right and tight.
I shoved the gym door open, set on walking right through. Just a quick wave hello to any of the guys training, and heading right up to the apartment for a shower, but when I walked in, Reid was standing right next to the front desk, a stupid grin stretched across his face.
“Look who’s here. Where were you all night?”
“None of your fucking business,” I muttered, shoving past him toward the stairs. I wasn't in the mood for his banter and I sure as shit didn't want him prying into things that weren't his concern. He was like a stray cat. The second I gave him some milk, he’d want to move in or something. Better to ignore his ass altogether.
He obviously wasn’t on board with that plan and trailed me up the steps, hot on my heels.
“If you follow me, who's going to work the desk, asshole?” I growled over my shoulder.
“There are only two guys down there, and if someone comes in, I'll hear the bell,” Reid said, not even breaking stride.
We got to the second floor and I opened the apartment door, quickly pushing it closed behind me. At the last second, he jammed one sneakered foot in the crack to stop it.
I blew out a sigh and let the knob go, glaring at him when he stepped into the kitchen. “What?”
“Nothing, geez. Can't a little brother just want to spend some time with his big bro?”
“No. Because I can tell by that shit-eating grin you have some agenda and I want no part of it. I went out. I stayed out. I'm a grown ass man and what I do is none of your concern.”
It wasn't even eleven o'clock in the morning and already my brain was like mush from all the thinking. Kayla was a problem I couldn't find a solution to no matter how deep I dug, and the last thing I needed was for my baby brother to push me into admitting as much out loud.
“Maybe not, but I like to keep on top of the gossip and all. I'm going to have to guess by your mood that you didn't get laid, am I right? Are you suffering from a massive case of blue balls? Is she a nice Catholic girl saving it for marriage, is that it?”
I gave him the dead eyes and turned on my heel and headed for the bathroom. If Kayla was a virgin saving it that would've actually been a million times easier. I never would've gotten involved with her in the first place, and probably vice versa. Fighters from Southie didn't exactly have the virgins gunning for them in droves.
Annnd, of course thoughts of virgins gave way to thoughts of tightness, which led to thoughts of Kayla's body clamping over my cock when she came.
For the first time in her life.
For me.
And then the boner I'd ran for eight miles to get rid of came back with a vengeance like a vampire that wouldn’t fucking die.
“But my question is, why sleep there? Did you guys just hold each other all night and talk about your hopes and dreams?”
This time, I was quicker than my brother. I slammed the bathroom door directly into his grinning mug and then locked it.
Wise-ass little prick.
He was still talking when I cranked on the hot shower and yanked my t-shirt over my head.
I knew he was just playing around, but I was actually getting heated because some of his jokes hit closer to home than he probably even realized.
So maybe we hadn't talked hopes and dreams, but Kayla and I had definitely talked disappointments and nightmares. Mine about my psycho-bitch mother and hers about her pervy bastard of an uncle.
There was no denying, as corny as it seemed, we'd had a moment there. Maybe even two.
But none of that changed the facts. There was no chance of us making a habit of any of it. She was Mick Flynn's daughter and I was Mick Flynn's indentured servant. We couldn't be friends, and we sure as shit couldn't be more than that. So now the only thing to do was figure out how to work with her. Because until I found a loophole to get out of this sideways little arrangement I was in with Mick, I was stuck with her.
I stripped off the rest of my clothes and stepped under the piping hot spray.
Probably, I should've gone with the cold tap in spite of my tired muscles because the second the water hit me, I was hammered with erotic memories of the night before.
Kayla, on her back, legs spread wide as I licked her. The way she tasted and smelled. The way she moved and gasped my name when she came.
I ducked my head low to let the hot sting of the water work my neck even as my cock went iron hard again.
Jesus, it was like reverting back to the seventh grade. Zero boner control. For the next ten minutes, I tried to will it away, ignoring my dick completely in the whole wash-up process, but when it became abundantly clear it wasn't going down, I took the bull by the horns.
I reached down between my le
gs and let my eyes drift shut, allowing the memories I'd been aggressively keeping at bay to come rushing in.
The effect was instantaneous and my cock bucked in my hand. I let out a hiss and worked it upward on a long, firm stroke. Then thoughts of the night past slipped away and were replaced by fantasies of nights future. All the things I wanted to do to her...the ways I'd dreamed of having her. On her knees riding my cock like a bronco while her breasts bounced up and down. Bent over her little kitchen table with my hand in her hair as I slid in deep from behind. That sexy dip in her spine when her back arched as she came.
It was fast. I pressed my free hand to the wet tile wall as the climax came bearing down on me. Hot liquid snaked up my cock, locked and loaded for launch. One more jerk, one more image of Kayla, eyes closed, head thrown back, jaw working soundlessly as her pussy squeezed me tight, and I was gone, spurting hard into the air as my legs quaked.
Excellent.
The daughter of my enemy had me so wrapped up that I was jerking off in the shower not eight hours after having sex with her, and now we had to spend the foreseeable future working side by side.
It was going to be a living hell.
Chapter Two
Kayla
Of all the stupid sex books I’d read in the past in an effort to “fix” my little problem, it became clear over the next couple weeks that they’d left out a very important piece of information about orgasms.
Apparently they were like potato chips. One just didn’t cut it.
“You’ve got to work on your transitions there,” I called to Matty from my seat on the bench outside the ring. It was mostly bullshit. He and Bash had been sparring and he looked good. Better than good. Crisp. Fast. Strong.
So strong.
Like Jason Momoa strong, and I tried to think of more things to snipe at him about just to keep my mind from wandering down that long, winding path which always ended with me and Matty back in bed. Seemed like it was all I thought about anymore.
Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers 6) Page 1