The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set)

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The Stone Brothers: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 45

by Samantha Christy


  “Mr. and Mrs. Grape,” he corrects me with a snarky smirk. “Linda—that’s my travel agent—she’s always booking me under names that have to do with food. I’ve been Mr. Burger, Mr. Linguini, Mr. Pita. I’ve heard she also books her clients using names of clothing, cities, and marine life.”

  “But don’t they all know who you are when you go to pay with your credit card?” Then I remember it was Cole who paid. “Or does Cole always use his?”

  He gets out his wallet and shows me his credit card. “Cole uses one of my cards. It’s only got the name of my business on it for that very reason. But a lot of the time, they know who we are, especially if people like Courtney want special treatment.”

  I read his Visa card. “Treehouse Enterprises?”

  “Yup. That’s my business name. I use it for travel and purchases. Makes things easier sometimes.”

  “How long have you used that name?” I ask.

  “A few years I guess.”

  Years?

  He sees the surprise on my face. “I told you, Mal. Boyhood fantasies die hard.”

  I feel the blush cross my face and he chuckles.

  “So, Cole doesn’t have to stay in the suite with you?” I ask, wondering about the bodyguard/guardee dynamic.

  “Occasionally we’ll get a two-bedroom suite and he’ll take one of the bedrooms. But now is not one of those occasions.” He smiles at me suggestively. “But speaking of Cole. I’d like to go over a few things with you.”

  He motions to the couch and I sit. “Oh, okay.”

  He points to a door on the far side of the living room. “Cole’s room is on the other side of that connecting door. He’s been instructed that whenever I’m with you, he’s to protect the both of us, not just me.”

  “What?” I ask, incredulously. “Why would he need to protect me?”

  “Because I need you safe,” he says. Then he shakes his head in disgust. “And because there are some sicko people in this world.” He holds his hand out. “Can I see your phone, please?” I hand it to him and watch over his shoulder as he programs Cole’s number into my contacts and sets it on my favorites screen.

  He smiles up at me. “I’m on your favorites screen?”

  I nod, embarrassed.

  He whips out his phone and taps it a few times. “And you’re on mine,” he says, proudly showing me his phone.

  I read his list of favorites. Ethan. Kyle. His mom and dad. Me. And then there is a girl named Megan. I look up at him and he shifts uncomfortably. He’s obviously forgotten to wipe an old girlfriend or something. He cringes. “Sorry,” he says. “Haven’t cleaned it out in a while.”

  I want to ask who the hell Megan is. Because I’m pretty sure he claimed Courtney was his last girlfriend. But I fear Chad has a lot of skeletons in his closet and I’m just not sure I want to know about all of them. After all, does it matter what he did before me? I try to push aside my jealousy of a girl who may only exist as a memory on his phone.

  He clears his throat. “Uh, anyway, call him anytime you need to. Even when we’re not in town. He will always know where I am in case you need me.”

  A horrid grumbling sound comes from my stomach. “Oh, my gosh. Sorry about that,” I say. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

  He looks at his watch. “It’s nearly six o’clock, Mallory. Why didn’t you eat lunch?” he scolds me.

  “I wasn’t hungry then. I guess I was . . . uh, nervous.”

  “Nervous?” He laughs. “Mal, you’ve seen me take a dump in the woods before. Why would you be nervous after that?”

  I cover my mouth as I erupt in giggles. “I had forgotten all about that. I didn’t actually watch you, you know. I did turn my back. I mean, gross.”

  We start reminiscing about old times, sinking into the couch, holding hands and talking until my stomach growls again.

  “That’s it, I’m feeding you, woman.” He goes over to the desk and retrieves a menu. “Room service okay? It’s not a picnic in Central Park or anything, but it means I get to keep you all to myself.”

  “Room service is perfect,” I say.

  He quickly calls in our order, not even bothering to ask what I want. He orders two cheeseburgers, medium rare. One without pickles. He also gets fries. And chocolate shakes. Because what good are fries if you don’t have chocolate shakes to dip them in? I love that he knows all this about me.

  And despite the fact that there’s a huge dining room table in the suite, we sit on the floor and eat our burgers at the coffee table. I smile, thinking this was something we would do when we were kids. “In case I forgot to tell you, that picnic was the best picnic I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

  He ignores his half-eaten burger and catches my eyes. “Better than the one we had over in Greyson County when we saw all those horses and Julian tried to ride one bareback?”

  I laugh at the memory. “Better,” I tell him.

  “How about the one we had out at my grandparents’ place that summer when we made s’mores on the beach?”

  “Better.” I smile because he remembers. He remembers all of it.

  “And the one at the lake, when your bikini top came off—that was a pretty damn great picn—”

  “Nope,” I interrupt. “It was the best, Chad. The best one ever. I’ll never forget it.”

  He beams with pride. Then he startles me by reaching over me, grabbing me by the hips and lifting me on top of him. I’m straddling him as he stares up at me. “This,” he says, wiping mustard from my lip with his thumb and then putting it in his mouth to clean it. “I’ll never forget this or any other moment I get to spend with you. They are the best of my life, Mal.” He puts his hand on my neck and pulls me to him, mashing our mouths and bodies together.

  He tastes of ketchup and salt and chocolate. I don’t even mind that he tastes of pickles. I feel him grow hard beneath me and my body takes over, undulating on top of him as we explore each other with our mouths. “God, Mal,” he whispers, as his lips find my earlobe. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Me too,” I say, my head falling back to give him more room to work.

  “I think I missed you more these past weeks than the nine years we were apart,” he says against my skin. Then he suddenly pulls away from me, looking guilty. “Not that I didn’t miss you then. Because I swear I did. I thought about you all the time. But after that kiss two weeks ago. Jesus, do you know how hard it was to get on that plane and fly away from you?”

  “I know what you mean,” I say smiling down at him. “I feel the same way.”

  His head cocks to the side and he studies me. “You do?” he asks, tracing the ball of his thumb across my cheek. “I mean, do you really? Or are you just saying that? Because I’m not shitting you, Mal. These past weeks were torture. I’m not sure what I’m even going to do after . . . ”

  His eyes do all the talking after his words stop. I get it. I know exactly what he’s saying. How are we going to be apart after this weekend? If we do all the things I think we are going to do. After spending three days together. If being apart from him after just one kiss was that hard, I can’t even imagine what being apart after making love will feel like.

  I put his face between my hands and caress his cheeks with my thumbs. “I’m not just saying it, Chad. It’s true. Being without you these past weeks, it was horrible. And I know you’re only here for a few days. But that’s okay. Because if a few days is all I get, I’m willing to take it. I’ll take whatever you give me.”

  He pulls my lips to his. “Everything,” he whispers into them. “I want to give you everything.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chad

  I pick Mallory up and carry her back to the bedroom. This is it. This is the moment I finally get to see her—finally get to have her. I place her down on the bed and lie beside her. I trace the outline of her face with my fingers. I want to remember every curve, every placement of each freckle, every nuance of her heated expression.

  My he
art thunders beneath my shirt. My hand shakes as it works its way down her shoulder. I realize I’m fucking terrified. I’ve been with a lot of girls. So many I don’t even remember all of their names. But this time is different. I shake my head and snort a laugh before capturing her eyes with mine. “Now I’m the one who’s nervous,” I admit.

  “You?” She tilts her head with a questioning gaze. “Why?”

  I stare into her gorgeous green eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Mallory. I want this to be perfect. I want to live up to your expectations. And, well, I might be a little worried about any preconceived notions you might have given that I’m, uh . . . ”

  “A famous movie star that girls drool over who has a reputation of being good with the ladies?” she asks, smirking.

  “Ugh,” I groan, burying my head in the crook of her neck. I wish I could take it all away. Turn back the clock and erase all the stupid shit I did.

  “Chad.” She runs her fingers through my hair and I look up at her. “Don’t you think I’m nervous, too? Not because of who you are now, but who you were. I’m lying in bed with the boy I had a crush on all those years. We were perfect together then. This will be perfect, too. Because it’s us.”

  Man up, Stone.

  I climb on top of her, supporting my weight on my elbows as I hover over her lips. “Damn right it’s us. It’ll always be us, Mal.” Then I claim her mouth as if it has always belonged to me. As I kiss her deeply, the nerves I felt disappear and turn into something else. Pure hunger for this woman. Every kiss with her is better than the one before. Every touch has us exploring new, uncharted territory.

  I press myself into her, grinding our clothed bodies together in simulation of what is yet to come. A soft, mewling sound comes from the back of her throat. It’s sexy as hell. I sit up and straddle her, fingering the hem of her shirt, visually asking for permission to remove it. She smiles. I don’t hesitate another second before pushing it up her body, past her black lace bra and over her head. I don’t even know where I throw it because all of my attention is focused on her breasts. Holy God, they’re incredible. I put my hands on her, molding each breast into one of my hands. They fit perfectly. Warm and soft and oh, so natural.

  My fingers find the front clasp of her bra and when I snap it open and take in her bare chest, I’m sure I’ve died and this is heaven. “Jesus, Mal. You are so beautiful.”

  Her hands pull at my shirt, begging to find what’s underneath. I reach behind my head and pull it over me, depositing it next to the bed. Her hands on my chest feel incredible. But that’s not what sends ripples of pleasure through me, it’s the way her eyes take me in. She doesn’t look at me like other women do; like I’m a prize they will get to brag about to their friends; like I’m a conquest to add to their accomplishments. No, Mallory looks at me in awe and with complete reverence, like she’s seeing the Mona Lisa for the first time. Like she’s unearthed some secret that is only known to her. And I swear to God it’s better than any high I’ve ever gotten from drugs.

  We take slow and careful pleasure exploring each other, learning one another’s skin inch by silken inch. My fingers come upon a small raised scar several inches from her belly button. I get off her and position myself next to her as I lean down to examine it, running my finger carefully along it.

  Mal shivers from my touch. “Appendix,” she says. “I was twenty.”

  I frown, thinking of her scared and having an operation. For the millionth time, I scold myself for not being there for her. I bend over and kiss her scar, my tongue taking the same trail across it as my finger had. My hungry mouth works its way up her stomach, tasting every inch of her as I blaze a path to her breasts. Her nipples are stiff and they pucker further under my tongue. She groans as I lick and suck them, arching her back as her chest pushes into me. The sultry noises she’s making have my dick straining painfully against the fly of my jeans.

  As if reading my mind, Mallory’s hand works its way between us, caressing me through the denim. I push into her, craving every stroke she gives me. Her dexterous fingers make easy work of unbuttoning my jeans, and when she slips her hand beneath my boxer briefs and touches my bare skin, I shout out, “Mallory, Jesus!”

  I’m living my boyhood dream. Mallory Schaffer has my dick in her hands. And just like a boy, I’m not going to last very long unless I get a grip. Her hand slips from my jeans as I resume my spot on top of her. I watch her face as I unzip her pants. One look from her gives me the green light, so I work my way down her body, pulling off her pants and shoes in the process.

  As I climb back up her legs, my mouth finds her smooth calves, then her knees, then her thighs, as she squirms beneath me. Her alluring musky scent hits me as I hover over her black lace panties. I push them aside and run a finger down her soft trail of curls to find her soaking wet. My dick dances in my jeans as I slip a finger inside her, then two.

  “Chad,” she says, breathlessly, pushing herself into me.

  She fucks my fingers with her body and I can hardly stand it. I want to be inside her right now, but I need to go slow. Take my time with her. Make this an experience she will never forget. It’s already the best sexual encounter I’ve had and yet she’s only touched me for maybe thirty seconds.

  I remove my fingers from her and she protests with a squeaky sigh that makes me chuckle. But I need to get rid of her panties. I pull them down her legs, kissing the sensitive skin along her inner knees as I go. When I return to the apex of her thighs, I hold her stare as she looks down on me when I press my mouth to her. Damn, that’s hot—her watching me when I do this. My tongue runs slow circles around her clit as my fingers resume their expedition inside of her. Another minute of this has her eyes closing and her head falling back and lashing against the pillow as her thighs tighten around me.

  “Oh, God!” she shouts at the ceiling as she pulsates around my fingers. I watch her taut stomach convulse as waves of pleasure shoot through her. It’s got to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole damn life.

  As she recovers, I quickly remove my jeans, pulling a condom from my wallet before I deposit them on the floor. I lie next to her on the bed and show her the small square package. I didn’t want to presume that she’d let me make love to her tonight, but I sure as hell was going to be prepared. I raise my eyebrows in question.

  She smiles. “Yes, please,” she says softly. Then she takes it from me. “Here, let me.” She tears it open and carefully rolls the condom onto my rock-hard length as I try not to think about how many times she might have done this before with some other guy.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that,” she says with a shy smile.

  Fuck. If she only knew how much better she just made this for me. As I kneel next to her, I take a moment to stare at her naked body and I wonder what the hell a guy like me ever did to deserve a woman like her. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  A blush works across her face and she nods. “Once or twice,” she says, smiling.

  “Well get used to it,” I say. “Because it’s true and I’m never going to let you forget it.”

  I climb on top of her and position myself at her entrance. I shake my head at the unbelievable reality that I’m about to make love to Mallory Schaffer. As I start to push inside her, I lean down and whisper, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted.” And then I kiss her as our bodies join together for the very first time.

  We moan into one another’s mouths as I fill her completely. The feeling of being inside her is like no other. She’s soft. Tight. Safe. And as I make love to a woman for what feels like the first time in my life, I find emotion flooding through me. I lock eyes with Mallory and see her experiencing the same thing. A tear escapes her eye and rolls back into her hair. I lean down and kiss the wet trail.

  “God, Mal,” I whisper in her ear, as I continue my long, soft strokes inside her.

  Her hands glide over every inch of my back and then find their way down to my ass. She pushes me deeper inside of her,
bringing her hips off the bed to meet mine with increasing speed. “Chad,” she says, my name flowing off her lips like a prayer, “please.”

  I rise up on an elbow, changing my angle in hopes of finding that sweet spot that’ll send her toppling over the edge. With my free hand, I grab her breast, kneading the soft mound, pinching her stiff nipple.

  “Uh . . . Oh, God . . . Yes,” she murmurs.

  I can feel her begin to stiffen beneath me. Her thighs tightly embrace me and her fingers dig into my ass cheeks. She shouts my name as she bucks under me, her walls clamping down on me as I witness what is no doubt the eighth wonder of the world. Watching her orgasm has me quickly chasing my own. My sac tightens and waves of painful pleasure shoot through me as I empty myself into her before her aftershocks cease. “Unnnnngh,” I cry, biting down on my lower lip as I pulsate inside her.

  I collapse onto her, our slick bodies languid as we replenish our lungs with much-needed air. I can feel her racing heartbeat underneath mine. I stay on top of her until it calms; until our breathing slows and I find myself capable of purposeful movement.

  I wince as I pull out of her, moving to her side before I wrap her tightly against me. “Jesus, Mal. I’ve never . . .”

  “Me either,” she says, craning her neck to look at me. We stare at each other for long drawn-out seconds. We don’t need words to tell each other what just happened. That in these past minutes, our lives have forever changed. That never again will we accept anything less than what we just had. That we’ve become connected by a bond that cannot be broken.

  I touch her face with my hand, her shimmering eyes mirroring mine. “I love you, Mallory Kate.”

  She closes her eyes, squeezing tears from them before looking at me again. “I love you, too, Chad Christopher.”

  I embrace her, needing to remember every detail of this moment until the day I die. I hold her until our bodies cool down, still slick from sweat and now becoming chilled from the movement of warm air circulating from the room’s heating system. I lift her up and pull down the covers so we can climb in under them. Then I lay my head down on her pillow, inches from her radiant face. “I’ve loved you forever,” I tell her.

 

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