by Wynne Roman
“You—” I swallow as the truth of what she’s saying hits me. “You’re a virgin?”
“Sort of.” She keeps her face hidden. “Except for oral sex with you just now. I’ve kissed other guys, but that’s pretty much…it.”
Sweet fucking Christ.
A virgin. My Bree is a virgin, and I just went down on her like she was some experienced chick. Like she knew what to expect. Jesus!
“Oh, baby.” I smooth a hand over her hair, brush it away from her face, and urge her head back so she can look up at me. I don’t know why, since we can see so little, but I do it, anyway.
I kiss her with all the tenderness I can gather. I haven’t kissed a woman in years, except for Bree, but my desire for her demands that I do it right. Suddenly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against her mouth.
“For what?” she pulls back. Blinks. Her voice sounds a little careful, almost awkward. “Are you sorry we—”
“No, baby. Not that. I should have taken my time. Been more—”
“Oh, no, A!” She snuggles tighter against me and kisses my neck. “It was perfect.”
I try to laugh but it’s not very good. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”
Her tongue is doing crazy things to my neck, behind my ear, and then her teeth close over my earlobe. Jesus. My hips flex against her, my cock rock hard, and I shift away.
“I don’t need anything else to compare it to,” she whispers. “You’re a very good teacher.”
She bites my earlobe with a bit more pressure, and my body responds again. I try to put more space between my hips and hers, but she’s not having it. She strokes her palm over the length of my cock. Does it again. I don’t mean to, but still I push against her hand, and her fingers close around me.
Thank God for my boxers. If she touches me skin-to-skin, my good intentions will go up like fucking smoke.
“Not a good idea, baby.” I pull her hand free and twine my fingers with hers.
“Why?”
Does she really sound so sad?
“Not about me tonight. I—” How can I say I don’t deserve it without bringing up memories of that groupie chick? Or Garage Chick. I don’t want to spoil it and so I kiss her instead. “You’re the virgin here. You’re going to stay that way.”
“Don’t you want me?”
I laugh, but it’s ragged. Harsh. “Oh, I want you, baby. Bad. But we’re still not doing it tonight.” I’m determined and reach down to help her pull her panties back into place.
“But…sometime?”
I hear the desire in the word. Sometime? Do I really think I can fight her after this?
“Yeah. Sometime.” I tuck her against me. “Now let me hold you while you go to sleep.”
“You won’t leave?”
“Nope. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe.” From everything except me.
“I—okay.” She snuggles tight against my side and kisses my chest. “If you’re sure.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay,” she says again. “Night, Ajia.”
“Night, baby.”
Noise, soft and out of place, brings me to almost awake. I lay there, half-listening, while the rest of me identifies the other stuff around me. One breath I’m trying to put it together, and the next I know.
Bree is tucked against me, her head on my shoulder, one arm slung over my chest and her leg draped over my already hard dick. Or maybe it’s still hard. Not sure that my hard-on ever really went away after I cockblocked myself last night.
I shift, moving kind of into her and one hand idly stroking over her arm. I’m more aware of what I’m doing after I start, but I’m not really awake enough to think about stopping, or even if I should. Her skin is soft and smooth, and I want to touch more of her.
I blink, turn my head so I can drop a kiss on Bree’s forehead.
“Morning, kiddies.”
I close my eyes in a slow blink and reverse my turn. I go farther, slant a look toward the door, and then drop my eyelids again. Fuck.
Noah leans against the doorframe, which doesn’t concern me so much. It’s Knox, standing next to the goddamn bed. He glares at me like one pissed off motherfucker.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Bree chooses that minute to wake up. She wiggles next to me, stretching with a soft, contented sigh and slowly opens her eyes. I know the instant she spots her brother; she goes all tense and stiff. She’d even pull away, if I let her, but I don’t. I tighten my grip around her. I know better than to let either of us act like we’re guilty of something.
“Morning.” I respond to Noah.
Knox steps closer to the bed. “Again, Ajia. What the fuck?”
“It’s not what you think,” Bree insists, and I wonder if she just made things worse.
“You two in the same bed?”
Knox sounds pissed off enough that I’m not sure why he hasn’t jerked my ass out of bed. Maybe it’s because he’s hung over.
“Yes.” Bree answers primly.
“Then it’s exactly what I think.”
“Knox—” I start but she interrupts.
“Don’t start this shit, Knox.”
“What shit? I didn’t start any goddamn thing. Looks like this fucker did.”
Why the hell is Noah standing there grinning?
“Nobody started anything.” I try to sound unconcerned.
“Then what the fuck are you doing in bed with my sister?”
“I had a nightmare.” Bree sounds a little more defensive than is probably good for the situation, but I can’t really blame her. It is an awkward fucking position to be in.
“So, what? You rushed in to fuck her awake?”
“Knox!”
Bree might be shocked, but I’m suddenly pissed. Knox can say anything he wants about me, because it’s probably all true. But not about his sister, and he damn well knows it.
I smooth a hand over her hair and turn so she’s laying on the bed next to me, then I swing my legs over the side of the bed and sit straight. “Apologize to your sister.”
“Why?”
“The only one who got fucked last night was you. And probably Noah.” I fling one hand in his direction. “Nothing like that happened between Bree and me.”
So maybe I’m not exactly telling the truth. Something did happen. I kissed her like I hadn’t kissed a woman since Lara, and Bree came all over my face, my hand. It’s the best fucking memory I have. Ever. Knox’s protective bullshit isn’t going to ruin it. Not for me, and not for her.
We’ve got enough shit to work through without her brother interfering.
“Nice boxers,” Noah points out. My morning wood is mostly gone, thank God. By now, I figure I look pretty ordinary.
“We’re not exactly naked here, Knox,” Bree points out as she crawls from behind my back to kneel next to me.
“He’s in boxers, you’re in panties and a tank. Yeah, that’s real fucking reassuring.”
“Oh, get over your fucking self,” Bree snaps. “I had a nightmare. Ajia woke up when I screamed, and he came running. He didn’t take time to think, ‘Oh, maybe I should put on a three-piece suit in case Knox comes in and jumps to the wrong conclusion.’ He just knew I needed something—somebody—and you weren’t here to help.”
“We traded rooms—”
“Exactly!” She sits back on her heels. “You wanted privacy to fuck your groupie and left Ajia to take care of me. Now you’re pissed because he did it?”
Knox frowns between us. “Doesn’t explain why you ended up in the same bed.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Knox.” I’m done with all this bullshit. Maybe because I do have something to hide. Or because Noah’s just standing there, arms over his chest and grinning like a fucking clown.
“What?”
“Bree had a fucking nightmare. It upset her. She was crying, for fuck’s sake. I stayed until she fel
l asleep, and I guess I fell asleep, too.”
“You were crying?” Finally, something else catches Knox’s attention.
“Can we have this discussion later?” Bree asks as she shifts around, trying to get off the bed, I guess. She kind of tilts in my direction, and I reach out to steady her. Knox grunts, and I hear a stifled chuckle from Noah.
Assholes.
“Why? So you two can cuddle up and get your stories straight?” Knox demands.
“Jesus, when did you get to be such a paranoid fucker?”
He points to the floor. “When I see your boots tossed on top of my sister’s clothes.”
CHAPTER 13
BREE
I flop back onto the bed and stare at the pile of clothes I threw on the floor last night. Ajia’s motorcycle boots lay in what looks like a drunken heap on top of them. I suppose they could look a little suspicious, but they shouldn’t. Ajia took them off when he first came in to talk to me about Tits. I guess neither of us thought much about them after that.
I know I didn’t.
“You notice the rest of his clothes aren’t there,” I point out with every bit of reason I can find.
“Yeah? I notice he doesn’t have them on, either.”
I sigh. “Knox, there is a perfectly good explanation for everything. If you’ll let me take a shower and get a cup of coffee, I’ll tell you the whole freaking story.”
“Oh, so there is a fucking story.” He glares at me. Or is it Ajia?
“No. Except for the bullshit you’ve invented in your head. But I’ll tell you everything that happened.” I bump shoulders with Ajia but don’t look at him. “We both will.”
“Well…”
“C’mon.”
I’ve got about a million other things I’d rather think about—like the memory of how it felt to have Ajia’s mouth on me, his fingers inside me, and if there’s a chance anything else can happen again. We have to talk, but that isn’t going to happen until my brother gets over himself.
“Dude.” Noah straightens from his place in the doorway. “Let our baby girl have her shower and coffee. Nobody’s going anywhere. If it turns out Ajia fucked up, I’ll help you beat the shit out of him.”
Noah’s smiling, but it’s shitty enough that I wish he didn’t know how things were between Ajia and me. He means it. He will beat the shit out of Ajia. Any of the guys will if they think he did something to hurt me.
“Do I look like I need defending?” I ask the question but nobody responds.
“You coming?” Knox demands, glaring at Ajia.
He’s torn. I can see it in his face. He knows we need to talk as much as I do, but we can’t do it now. Part of me is relieved. What if he tells me last night was a mistake? That he regrets what we did?
The weak, insecure part of me wants to wind up that thinking into imagining something terrible, something that will end badly and break my heart. A faint voice of better judgment insists I slow down.
Don’t get ahead of yourself, it reminds me. If that’s how it happens, then you’ll know. It’s that simple. You decided the what ifs were killing you. Either way, you’ll have your answer. You’ve been afraid it would go to shit, and you knew the risk when you took it.
“You okay, kitten?”
Ajia’s concern warms me. “I’m good.” I smile softly.
He opens his mouth like he has something else to say, then his gaze flicks around the room. Knox looms there like some giant gargoyle or something. Ajia just nods and disappears from the room.
“Bree—”
“Get out, Knox.” I grab my makeup bag and a change of underwear from my open suitcase. “You wanna talk, we’ll fucking talk. But not until I’ve had my shower. And get me a double espresso skinny mocha with whip.”
Then I’m outta there, and I don’t give a shit if my brother still looks pissed off.
I don’t hurry through my shower, hair, or makeup routine. Ajia and I didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not going to let Knox treat it that way. Yeah, so we made it to third base. It was fantastic. Far better than any fantasy I’d ever had about being with Ajia. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. But that’s between him and me. None of Knox’s business.
And if you think he’s going to leave it there, you’re crazy.
My conscience is right. Knox isn’t going to be okay with what happened—so it’s a good thing I have no intention of telling him. I wouldn’t tell him if I’d gone that far with any other guy. I’ve never told him about any boys I ever kissed. Just because he knows Ajia—or because of it—I’m not giving him any reason to bring out the big-gun protective shit again.
I dress simply in a pair of ripped jeans, a red Wycked Obsession tank top, and my white flipflops. My hair is kind of coffee-colored, and I leave it loose around my shoulders and down my back. The contrast of my dark hair against the red shirt is good. Attractive. We aren’t on the tour bus, where it doesn’t matter if I look sloppy. We’re in Phoenix, and I want to look decent if anybody sees me with the band.
Really? a sly voice demands. You sure you aren’t dressing up for Ajia?
Maybe. I’ve learned some hard lessons about lying to myself. So what if I am? Besides, this is hardly dressing up. And who’s it hurt?
I find the whole band in the living area. Every last freaking one of them. A box of donuts sits on the coffee table next to what I assume is my double espresso skinny mocha with whip.
I snatch up my cup. “So what’s going on? We having an intervention?” I try to make it sound kind of funny, but it falls flat.
“Probably should have done it before now.” It’s Rye who answers.
Shit. I take a long drink of mocha, letting the coffee, chocolate, and whipped cream melt over my tongue. Zayne and Knox are on the sofa that faces me, Noah’s in a square-shaped chair, and Rye and Ajia are on opposite ends of the sofa nearest where I stand. They’re all dressed a lot like me—ripped jeans and T-shirts—and are looking anywhere but at me.
I choose my seat deliberately and sink down between Rye and Ajia. Neither of them moves.
“Okay,” I say. “Y’all are making way too much of this. Nothing happened.”
“We were there, baby girl,” Noah reminds me with surprising gentleness.
Is this about more than Knox and him finding Ajia and me in bed together? “Maybe so,” I agree. “But you’re still making more of it than you need to.”
“Start at the beginning,” Knox snaps. He doesn’t like me sitting next to Ajia, I can tell. That pisses me off.
“The beginning? Which beginning? Like the fact that our stepfather can’t keep his hands off me so I came on tour with y’all? Or your dare that I leave the party and go back to my room?”
He flushes. “Bree…”
“I’m not shitting you about last night, Knox. That hurt my feelings!”
I hadn’t really thought about bringing that up, but it’s true. And, now that it’s out, I realize it’s also when I started to get a little edgy last night. Like I didn’t belong. Like they all would have been better off—had more fun—if I hadn’t been there. My vulnerabilities had cruised to the surface, and the rest had been practically inevitable.
“You trying to make this my fault?” Knox scowls.
“No. You said start at the beginning, so I did. At least for this stupidity.” I wave my hand around the room. “You really embarrassed me last night—not that I expect you to take responsibility for it. You never have before. And you were too freaking busy looking for a place to fuck your groupie chick so I wouldn’t hear.” I emphasize the words to remind him that he’s the one who wanted to change rooms. “You didn’t give a shit what happened to me. Then, after you left with her, things got…a little more out of hand.”
“What does that mean?”
I’m surprised he doesn’t argue with me, that he leaves it at that simple demand. Does he get it on any level, or is he still trying to pretend that he’
s above any responsibility?
I look around at the rest of the guys. They either look away or their expressions are blank. Noah gives a slight shake of his head. So there’s another wrinkle. Nobody told Knox about Tits. Cowards. I glare at them all.
“One of the chicks dared her friend to make out with Ajia.” I sigh. “I took exception when she took out her tits and started rubbing them all over his face, and I left.”
Knox pushes forward on his seat. “Ajia, goddamn it, you fucker. After that night in Austin—”
We are so not going there!
“Shut up, Knox.” I snap and point at him like my finger has some kind of magical power. “Just listen. You weren’t there, so you don’t get to say a goddamn thing about what happened.”
Nobody else says anything, so I do. “Ajia followed me to apologize and make sure I was all right. I was already in bed, and we talked. I guess that’s when he took his boots off.” I shrug. “He must have forgotten them when he went to bed.”
“I went to bed alone.” Finally, Ajia says something. He flicks a quick glance in my direction that I want to mean, I got this, but maybe that’s my own wishful thinking. I want so bad to mean something to him besides baby girl, the band mascot.
“And yet that’s not where I found you this morning.”
“And I told you what happened,” Ajia insists before I can say anything. “I woke up in the middle of the night, Bree was screaming, and so I hustled my ass down the hall to see what was wrong. I didn’t stop to think I was only in my boxers. It really didn’t fucking matter at the moment.”
I glare at Knox. “And he woke me up from the nightmare. Remember that little fucking detail?”
My brother isn’t giving in. He’s staring at all of us like he’s pissed at everybody. I don’t care. He has no right to be upset about any damn thing. He’s mostly—or at least partly—to blame. And right now, I’m getting more and more pissed at him.
Noah leans forward with an uncharacteristically serious look. “What’d you dream about, baby girl?”
“Her fucking stepfather, what d’you think?”
I give Ajia a look that says enough. Not sure he sees it though. He’s glaring at Knox.