“Is that a fuckin’ tarantula?” she yelled, pointing at it.
His brain didn’t even acknowledge the fact that she was completely naked when he burst into the room, but it did now.
“Dane, kill it. Whoa,” she shrieked again when it moved, and she scurried backward on the bed. She yanked a pillow into her arms to cover herself.
He grabbed the towel that Moira had dropped, and trapped the thing, then took it to the balcony and flung it out the window.
“Holy crap, those things are big.” She shivered.
“Moira, they’re harmless really. They just look bad,” he said with a grin as he walked toward the bed, but the grin disappeared in an instant as Steven walked through the door, stopping him dead in his tracks.
“Ah—hey, Steven.”
“What—the—fuck—is going on?” he burst out. Steven’s expression went to instant angry as he looked at Moira kneeling on the bed with the pillow covering her body, and him just two steps away.
“Spider,” Dane said weakly.
“Yah, spider, big fuckin’ spider,” she stuttered. “Big, really big, Steven.”
“Well, where the hell is it?” Steven asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“I threw it out the window,” he said. “Had to rescue the damsel in distress, ya know.”
“Uh-huh.” Steven’s jaw tightened. Then a glint of humor appeared in his eyes. “Is that why it’s still on your leg?”
“What? Ho!” He jumped backward, and the thing dropped to the ground, trying to make a getaway. He stomped on it this time. “Jesus Christ.”
Moira screamed again, forgetting the pillow, and jumped into Steven’s arms. Steven threw his head back and laughed hard, then carried her into the bathroom and kicked the door closed behind him.
“Fuck,” he growled, as he left the bedroom, still hearing Steven’s laughter coming from the bathroom. He wandered down the hallway, shaking his head. Man she had a gorgeous set of curves. How the hell would he get that image out of his mind?
* * * *
They sat in the living room after having dinner, and watched the six o’clock news. Steven couldn’t help but notice that Moira kept glancing at the floor. “Moira, they don’t come in packs. I’m sure that’s the only one, sweetheart.”
“Huh?” She blushed.
“Don’t have those in B.C., do ya?” Dane grinned.
“Think I’m moving back.”
“Don’t think she likes spiders, Steven.”
“Don’t think you do either, by the way you jumped.” He tried to stifle a laugh.
“I think I’m going to do a little writing,” she said, scanning the floor before untucking her feet from the couch.
“Night, Moira,” Dane said, watching her as she walked away.
He and Dane could talk about anything. The heated look in Dane’s eyes when he’d walked into the bedroom gave him pause. What if he hadn’t walked in when he did? Moira he trusted. Dane he suddenly wasn’t sure of. “It’s been a while since Steff and you broke up,” he said, taking Dane’s glass to refill it. “I figured you’d have someone by now. Bit of a dry spell?”
“How did you end up being the luckiest fucking bastard alive?”
He paused, watching Dane shake his head. A flash of uneasiness tore through him. “You’re right. I am lucky, and I’m not sharing.” He poured their drinks.
“I think I get that. Although, you said you guys liked to experiment,” Dane reminded him.
“Together, and you’re not invited,” he said, as a feeling of possessiveness clutched him. Had Dane lost his mind?
“How do you know she wouldn’t like it?”
“Are we really fucking talking about this?” He glared at his brother, and slammed the glass decanter on the marble counter, almost shattering it.
“Don’t get so fucking hot under the collar, Steven. I get it, she’s yours and you don’t want to share her heart.”
He dropped two cubes of ice into each glass, trying to control his anger.
“You asked. I’m not going to lie to you. I want Moira—once.” He shrugged. “Hey, we’ve been open with each other all our lives. I know you’ve been wondering what the hell I’ve been doing here so often. I can’t help what I feel, Steven. I want to make love to her till she screams, to be honest with you.”
Dane didn’t waver from his cold stare. He would have, if he knew how close he was coming—to being dead.
“I dream about her. I jack off morning and night thinking about her, I—”
“All right, I get it,” he said, cutting him off. Glaring at him, he wondered if he should tear him to pieces now or just throw him out.
“You’re not thinking of her, you’re thinking of yourself. You ever consider that it might be her fantasy, too?” Dane rose and walked toward the island.
He ran his hand through his hair. “She hasn’t said that to you, has she?” The images flitting through his mind were driving him to see red.
“Christ, no. Get real, Steven. That woman loves you so much, it’s a fucking miracle really. I don’t know how she puts up with your temper.”
He pursed his lips, his anxiety receding—a little. “I don’t have a temper when I’m around her. Besides, she yells louder than I do.”
“Found that out the hard way, huh?” Dane grinned.
“Yup.” He thrust Dane’s drink at him and took a slow sip from his own. “You don’t have any problems getting a woman, but if you have to buy one, then do it.” He was trying his damndest to keep control, but he wanted to kill his own brother. “Moira is not that kind of woman.”
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Dane took a deep swallow from his drink. “I can imagine what she’s like in bed.”
He gritted his teeth. “Obviously you have, and the truth is it’s none of your goddamned business.” He released his grip on his glass. If he didn’t, he’d crush it in his hand. “And what would have happened if I hadn’t come in the door when I did this evening, Dane?” Dane remained silent, but the guilty look in his face gave him his answer.
“Probably nothing, but only because she wouldn’t let it happen.”
He grabbed the countertop instead of giving in to the desire to take a swing at his brother. “You’re right. She wouldn’t, and you need to remember that.”
“She’s adorable when she peeks through her bangs. Then the next minute she’s this beautiful woman in the prime of her life, intelligent, easy to talk to. She swings back and forth from being young and inviting to a sensual woman so easily. And that body of hers is all curves, isn’t it?”
“Dane—” His voice dropped to a warning tone. “I know what she is.”
“It’s not like we haven’t shared before,” Dane said.
“That was twenty fuckin’ years ago, and it happened once.”
“That’s all I’m asking for—once. I didn’t say I wanted her to marry me. I just want one night with her—” His words stopped abruptly as he looked toward the entrance to the kitchen.
“Are you mental?”
Her eyes strayed from him to Dane and back again. “Shit,” he said under his breath. How much of that had she heard?
Dane’s gaze turned almost feral at the sight of her in her little negligee.
“He asked, Moira. I’m just being honest. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you. You obviously have the same effect on me as you do on my brother.”
Her mouth gaped open and then slammed shut. She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her low-cut gown from his view. “Come to bed, Steven—alone,” she ordered and turned for the bedroom. “Go home, Dane.”
He turned toward Dane. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking kill you right now. Are you out of mind talking to her like that? I will never share Moira—do you understand me?” He glared at his brother. “I know what she does to me. I’m not going to blame you for what you want, but Moira is going to be my wife. If that sounds possessive, that’s too bad. Her trust means everything to me. I love you, brot
her, but I will fucking make sure you never eat solid food again or feel with your fingers if you ever touch her.” There—it was on the table. “Let yourself out.” He slammed his glass on the counter and followed Moira to bed.
* * * *
She hadn’t made it halfway across the bedroom when he had her from behind, stopping her. Moira pulled against his arms, but his grip tightened. “How much of that did you hear?” He slid his hands under her negligee, roaming to her hips then up to her waist. His fingers snaked up her soft skin to gather a breast in each hand, massaging them, squeezing the tender points. His shaft jumped with anticipation as it always did. A little gasp escaped her lips when he took possession of her body.
“All of it, I think,” she said weakly.
He wanted to believe it was just his touch that triggered a slow burn to her passion, but his jealousy said otherwise. She trembled in his arms, and anger mixed with love engulfed him. Only he could do this to her, but suddenly he wasn’t sure. A carnal feeling grew from his insatiable well of possessiveness over her, powered by a deep need. “Would you want that?” he whispered in her ear. His right hand snaked down her stomach, sliding across her firm clit and into her folds. He groaned, feeling her silk. “You’re so wet already, baby.”
Jesus, she made him hard just thinking of loving her. She had from day one. “You can tell me, Moira. Would you want me to hold you like this while his head lay between your legs and his tongue teased you, his lips making love to you?” Her body stiffened in his arms.
“Steven, don’t.”
Her words came out panting. His touch turned her on, or maybe it was the thought of his brother. “Whatever you want in this world, it’s yours, Moira. If you want him and I in our bed once—together—I’ll give it you.” His lips bit at the pulse in her neck as his left thumb circled her firm nipple. The thought of loving her together with his brother, making her sweet body sing and come in their hands, suddenly caused a wave of hunger. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop the damn thoughts from pouring into his mind.
He swung her around and tore the negligee from her body, ripping the silk in half and letting it fall to the floor. His gaze fell to the sway of her waist, and the flare of her hips. He dropped to his knees, his tongue darting between her folds, lapping at her firm clit. His tongue lashed at its trapped victim.
She cried out with pleasure as he plunged two fingers inside of her, feeling her open, her wetness drenching his hand. He fingered her faster as her head fell back, and she grabbed his shoulders for balance. Hungry for her, he ate her like a starving man, unable to get enough of her.
She liked it slow and sensual. He knew that by now. Although it took all of his restraint, that’s how he loved her. Right now, he wasn’t doing that at all. He yanked his fingers out of her. She thrust her hips toward him, not wanting them to leave her body. “Or would you like it if I watched, while he did this to you.”
He picked her up in his arms and practically threw her on the bed. His breath came hard and heavy. Tearing his pants off, he thrust himself into her, pulling her legs around his hips. He drove himself deep and pulled out just as quickly. Her body responded with violent shivers, her channel becoming even wetter as she cried and gasped with their joining. He grabbed her arms and pulled them above her head, trapping them there. His shaft plunged possessively to the hilt inside her. Carnal rage drove him to possess her.
Her body arched. “Steven, I only want you inside me. I only want you loving me. Don’t screw me like your brother would,” she cried out.
He stopped instantly, her words shattering his anger. What he was doing—was Neanderthal at best. He gently slid out of her and folded her into his arms. “God, Moira, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” His brother’s desires weren’t her fault, and his own insecurities weren’t her fault either. What the fuck was he thinking?
Moira pulled him to her, kissing his lips gently. He brushed her cheek, drawing a wisp of hair to the side.
“Steven, how do you think I feel?” she asked softly. “Look at all the women who openly trip on their own feet when they walk past you. Don’t you think that every day I wonder when you’re going to come to your senses, and one of them is going to attract you? I have a right to think that way, but you don’t.”
He rolled onto the bed, pulling her up to straddle his lap as he leaned against the headboard. He closed his eyes. “I already know what Dane wants. He wants you,” he said, unable to suppress the anger totally. “And he looks just like me.”
She threaded her fingers through his hair. “I have walked past thousands of men, Mr. Porter, and not one of them has made me feel the way I do with you.” She looked directly into his eyes as if making sure he could see the truth. “And I would have walked past Dane, too, regardless of what he looks like. But I saw you, heard you, felt you. I haven’t had a single day go by with a set of dry panties.” She blushed with embarrassment.
He grinned at her honest revelation, looping his arms around her waist as she lifted her hips, and brought her sweet channel down, taking his shaft inside of her.
“I want you, not your brother. My body desires you, not him. You aren’t the same at all.” She paused. “He’ll never be the man you are.” Her hips began to sway with an erotic dance, his erection growing inside her. “And I’ll be beside you until you come to your senses.”
He stopped her motion. Looking into her eyes, he saw she meant it. “No, Moira, I’m not using you till someone else grabs my attention.” He leaned forward to kiss her lips. When he released her soft mouth, her eyes remained closed. He still loved when she did that. “I’ve had it all, I’ve done it all, and the only woman my heart and mind has ever wanted is you.”
She didn’t believe him. He knew that look already. “I’m afraid to tell you this, but it will always be you, in this life, and in the next—and the one after that. I will always find you. Whether we’re toddlers in a playpen or we only find each other at eighty. If there is more than one life to live—I will always want to live it with you.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she tried to hide them by dropping her head, but he caught her chin and made her look at him. “Moira, you never cry in front of me. You never do a lot of things in front of me. You always hide your heart from me.” It bothered him, as if she didn’t want him to see that she was human and had moments of anger and sadness like everyone else.
Moira shook her head, fighting the tears.
“I know you love me, even though you don’t say it. I also know you’re afraid to say it.” Her expression twisted into pure sadness as his words hit their mark. “When you finally trust me, I know you will.” He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “One day you will.” He understood her so completely, and although many people thought he wasn’t a temperate man, he had all the patience in the world for Moira. She had his respect and his love.
She reached up tentatively to capture his cheeks. Her gaze strayed to the ceiling as if she were trying to decide whether to say what was on her mind or not. He waited.
She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as her eyes searched his. She nodded but said nothing. He craned his neck, his own brow rising in amusement at her expectant look.
Very carefully, she said, “If…you…mess around on me, I will bust your nut.”
“Jesus, Moira.” He barked with laughter and rolled her over on the bed, hovering above her. “Tell me you love me.”
“Nope.” She jerked her head to the right in a playful refusal.
He gently steered it back to look at him. Her sweet smile puckered her cheeks.
“Fine, I love you,” she admitted in her sexy bedroom tone.
He gave her a lopsided grin. “That’s right, you do. You know what else?” She tried to read his mysterious look. He held his breath for a second with the thought that entered his mind, but decided against voicing it.
“All right, what’s that look about, I’m out of guesses.”
His little voice never li
ed to him. It had been saying a lot lately, and if it was true, he couldn’t wait. “Nothing, sweetheart.” His heart swelled with the idea blooming in his mind.
She gave him one of her peekaboo looks. “Mr. Porter, are you keeping secrets again?”
“I told you I keep my promises.” Even the one’s he didn’t voice to her.
“What promise?”
He slowly twined his fingers through hers and stretched her arms far above her head. “I won’t be going into the studio tomorrow,” he said.
“Why not?”
His shaft, already hard, teased her silky opening, sending shivers of excitement through him. “Something important has come up,” he teased.
His lips found the firm peak of her breast, and he sucked it into his mouth, biting it gently. She made him forget about everything when her hips shot up, and her wet channel consumed him. Her muscles clenched his erection making him shudder with pleasure. “Man, I love when you do that.” He took control of her mouth as the fire inside of him ate him alive.
That night and until the next, he made good on his promise that he had made to her in Las Vegas. He loved her for twenty-four hours straight, loving her in every way he knew. If it took a hundred days or a hundred years he would earn her trust, deserve her love. His brother could go to hell. She loved him. Nothing could make him waver from her. Nothing or no one could ever come between them.
Chapter Twenty
She missed the changing of the seasons living in California. Basically, the weather was not so warm, warm, and hot. The month of January brought unusually wet weather, but the forecaster called for smoking hot temperatures the following weekend.
She and Steven decided to have a Sunday barbeque. They invited Steven’s entire extended family, cousins, aunts, uncles, and many close friends. Before the big wedding, not to mention the Oscars next month, they wanted a family celebration. Of course, it would be all Steven’s family, but she didn’t mind at all.
Too Grand for Words (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 26