An Indecent Longing

by Stephanie Julian

  “I haven’t eaten there,” she said. “I’ve heard it’s wonderful, though.”

  “The food’s amazing. I’m no food snob. I’ll eat pretty much anything you put in front of me, and if it’s burgers or pizza, all the better. But this place is amazing. Adam and Tristan took us one night after we joined the firm.”

  “We?”

  Shit, he really had to stop thinking in terms of “we.” But he’d gotten so used to it now that he was living and working with Ian, it’d become habit.

  Unlocking his car with the remote, he opened the passenger door for her and helped her in before heading around to the driver’s side. It gave him a few extra seconds to think about how to answer that. It gave him the perfect opening to divulge the fact that Ian was his cousin.

  But as he slid into the driver’s seat, he decided against it.

  “Ian and I.”

  “You two must spend a lot of time together.”

  Since it wasn’t a question, he didn’t feel the need to respond. And since he really didn’t want to talk about Ian right now, he changed the subject.

  “I handle threat assessment. I’m the guy who figures out if you need a bodyguard or just need someone to go talk to the creepy guy at work and tell him to back off. Or I figure out if the threatening texts you’re getting from an unknown number are something to worry about or just some dude with a grudge who lives in his mom’s basement and thinks it’s fun to screw with people’s minds. And sometimes I have to watch some guy’s back and make sure he doesn’t take a bullet because he’s a greedy asshole.”

  “Sounds like you hate your job.”

  “I don’t, actually. Most days I enjoy the hell out of it. It’s different every day so I never get bored, but it can suck the soul out of you if you’re not careful. But everyone’s got something they don’t like about their job. What’s yours?”

  She didn’t answer right away, but he could see she was thinking. He wanted to know about what, because he’d bet that what came out of her mouth wasn’t what was going through her head.

  “I enjoy being able to help people but…sometimes there’s nothing you can do for them. Sometimes you don’t win. And when that happens, someone ends up dying.”

  She said the words so matter-of-factly that he could almost believe she didn’t have any feelings at all about it. But as he shot her a quick glance—he was driving along tight Philly streets, after all—he knew she felt every one of those deaths.

  “Have you lost many people?”

  Dorrie had no idea how they’d gotten to such a personal level of questioning in such a short amount of time.

  But Ben had managed to get past her shields with very little effort and that was…exhilarating.

  And dangerous.

  And it made her question, for the hundredth time, her decision to come out with him tonight. Especially after Blank had inadvertently told her how Ben and Ian were related.

  But she found she wanted to talk to him.

  “I don’t know how many that means. Some days one is too many. Some die of old age and those are sad, but it’s a fact of life. Others are here one second and gone the next. They get hit by a car or have an aneurysm or a stroke or a heart attack. Babies die of cancer. Teenagers are shot. These are still facts of life but I don’t have to like them.”

  She’d been watching him navigate downtown Saturday night traffic, safe in the fact that he had to keep his gaze on the road. But now he pulled to a stop at a red light and turned to her, snagging her gaze and keeping her eye contact.

  His copper eyes were so sharp, they seemed to see inside her. And that would be a disaster. She had secrets he couldn’t discover. But apparently, he had secrets of his own.

  “You’re right. That all sucks.”

  His quiet tone made her grimace. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Hey, you never need to apologize to me for anything. I want to hear whatever you have to say. I don’t want you to filter anything.”

  And wouldn’t that be amazing? For a man to actually mean that? In her experience, men wanted women to look nice at their sides and keep their mouths shut. To play the part of the smart doctor and the pretty socialite, something she couldn’t pull off even on a good day.

  Even her dad, to some degree, wanted her to play a role.

  As those thoughts wound through her head, she realized Ben had started to smile right before he had to turn away so he could drive.

  “I filter everything,” she finally said. “I can’t help myself. Habit of the profession.”

  “Guess that makes sense. But you don’t have to filter your personality for me, okay?”

  “You’ll regret that.”

  “No, I don’t think I will, but I’d love to know why you think that.”

  Well, she’d dug the hole herself. Typical of her. She gave a deep sigh and decided to take him up on his offer. To give him a dose of her unfiltered personality because she’d rather know now than three weeks down the line if he could handle her. She hadn’t met a man yet who could.

  She sighed. “Because I’m not exactly sure how to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Date.”

  He didn’t answer right away, as if he was having trouble figuring out what to say.

  “Obviously you weren’t dating the right guys.”

  She shook her head, a bemused smile curving her lips. “Do you have an answer for everything?”

  He smiled, and her heart pounded against her ribs in a crazy rhythm.

  “Usually, yeah. Drives my cousin crazy. But in my business, it’s a good trait to have. If I question everything, I’m usually never surprised when shit goes sideways.”

  His mention of his cousin made her thoughts start to spiral, but she made a conscious effort to keep her focus steady. “And does that happen a lot?”

  “More than you might think. Sometimes it’s just something simple, like a missing piece of equipment. Sometimes it’s an ambush you never saw coming.”

  “Has that happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “You said you were in the Navy, right?”

  His smile returned. “Wasn’t sure you’d remember that. You’d had a few drinks.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Where were you stationed?”

  He shrugged. “All over. The Middle East my last few years. A few places I can’t tell you.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  “After the third or fourth time you’re shot or stabbed, you realize you’re not immortal and maybe there’s more to life than an adrenaline rush.”

  “Is that why you went into the service? For the rush?”

  “I went into the service because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I was eighteen and had a high school diploma, no money for college, and no burning desire to go. And I needed a way to make an honest living. I didn’t want to spend my life pushing drugs or providing muscle for criminals. I figured, at least in the service, I probably wouldn’t end up with a record.”

  She bit her lip, knowing that he meant he hadn’t wanted to work for someone like her dad.

  The land mines were increasing by the second, but she pushed forward, finding their conversation fascinating.

  “A lot of the guys I went to school with ended up working for the gangs or the families,” Ben continued. “That wasn’t what I wanted out of life. Most people never get out. Or, if they do, it’s in a body bag.”

  She could’ve argued his point. There were some men who got out with their lives. Men like Max and Jesse. But they were the exception, not the rule.

  Then again, most of Karel Antonoff’s men were loyal to an almost obsessive degree. She wasn’t sure why he inspired that level of commitment. She only knew that his top lieutenants would die for him. And he would give his life for them.

  “So I decided I’d let Uncle Sam give me an education and pay me at the same time. Haven’t regretted my decision. What about you? Ever regret becoming a doctor?”


  “Not enough to let it stop me.”

  “All those classes and hours of study would’ve made me crazy. Send me on a three-day mission through a desert with a backpack and a compass?” He glanced her way and grinned, stealing her capacity for higher thought. “Now that’s my kind of fun. What’s yours?”

  She blinked, her brain still stuck on his question about regret. “What’s my what?”

  “What do you like to do for fun?”

  Did she have fun? “I play soccer twice a week. When I have the time.”

  “Did you play in high school?”

  “Yes. Though I wasn’t very good at it then. I was too timid.”

  “So you found your killer instinct.”

  “I guess…I stopped being afraid of failing and caring what other people thought.”

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  She turned to face him with a grin, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like she could actually breathe. All because of this man.

  “Yes, it does. It feels really good.”

  *

  Dinner had gone much better than Ben had hoped.

  Hell, it’d exceeded all of his expectations.

  Dorrie was nothing like he’d expected. And so much more. When she’d finally emerged from that quiet shell she pulled around herself like armor, she’d shown a gift for dry sarcasm that kept him smiling.

  And every time she’d smiled at him, he’d had to shift to relieve the pressure from his pants on his erection. He’d been hard all night. Thankfully, she hadn’t been able to see how much he wanted her. Didn’t want to scare her off because he had every intention of spending most of the night with her.

  If she let him, he’d follow her into bed but he wasn’t going to push. Wasn’t his style.

  Didn’t mean he wouldn’t do whatever he needed to make her want him as much as he wanted her.

  The smile she leveled at him gave him hope that he wouldn’t be going home until much, much later tonight. And maybe not at all.

  “So, I’m not ready to go home yet.” Ben stared across the table at her as the waitress walked off with the check. “Wanna go to Haven Hotel? They’ve got a jazz trio I’d love to see tonight.”

  Her eyes lit up like he’d offered up her greatest desire. “You like jazz?”

  “I do. I take it you do, too.”

  “I love it. I got into it in college because my roommate was a huge Rick Braun fan.”

  “My uncle got me into it. My cousin’s a big fan, too.”

  And there was the elephant in the room again. The huge, invisible elephant that sat on his shoulders, trying to crush him under the weight of the truth he was keeping from her.

  “Ben?”

  She watched him with that sharp gaze, and he got the sense she was waiting for him to do…something. Like confess.

  “Is everything okay?”

  He grinned, loving how her eyes lit up. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Let’s go.”

  Haven was a short drive from the restaurant, which didn’t give him time to chew over the hole he was digging for himself. Christ, he really needed to tell her about Ian. What had started as a way to get Ian to admit his feelings for this woman had become something completely different.

  Something Ben wanted to explore.

  But he didn’t want to do it with this secret hanging over his head.

  Goddammit, Ian.

  By the time they got to Haven, he’d made up his mind to come clean. He just had to figure out the right time and the right way to bring it up.

  The band had already started when they arrived so the lights were dim and there was no way they could hold a conversation. He felt guilty for being relieved. But he was grateful for the time to figure out how to tell her about Ian.

  Until Ben saw his cousin tucked into a corner on the opposite side of the room. Ian’s concentration was fixed on the band on the stage at the front so he didn’t think Ian had seen them. If he had, his cousin would’ve disappeared like a phantom. And he was positive Dorrie hadn’t seen Ian; otherwise, that smile would’ve disappeared and the Dorrie he’d picked up at her home earlier tonight would’ve made a return.

  Luckily, the club was dark. He led Dorrie to a table on the other side of the room from Ian and seated her with her back to Ian.

  Ben knew Ian hadn’t said anything about attending this concert tonight. That didn’t mean Ben’s brain hadn’t made the subconscious connection and had known that Ian would probably be here.

  So, smart guy, what are you trying to tell yourself?

  He didn’t have a fucking clue.

  But now that they were all in the same room…

  Yeah, maybe you should have your head examined.

  And maybe he wanted something more. Wanted something more for himself and for Ian.

  They’d both spent too much time alone. They were long past due for a relationship, a connection. He had the feeling Dorrie was, too.

  And maybe, just maybe, they could find that connection together.

  The part of Ian’s brain that never stopped assessing his surroundings pinged, dragging his attention away from the band.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the woman as she settled into the booth, her attention on the stage. By the time the man slid in next to her, Ian’s full attention was focused on them.

  Even in the dark, the only light the soft glow coming from the stage, Ian knew Ben. And after last night, he swore he had an extra sense that was directly connected to Dorrie. If she was anywhere in his vicinity, every hair on his body stood on end.

  And his dick throbbed with anticipation.

  Idiot.

  He could call himself every name in the book and it wouldn’t matter. He still wanted her.

  Last night…

  Shit. Last night had been a clusterfuck of his own making. Getting into bed with her had been the worst fucking thing he could’ve done.

  He’d spent most of the day trying to put it and her out of his mind.

  But when Ben had left for his date, Ian had prowled the house like a caged animal for an hour. He’d considered going to the gym, finding someone to pummel—or to pummel him. He’d decided against it. In his mood, he could’ve hurt someone. Or let himself be damaged too severely.

  So he’d decided to have a few drinks and try to regain his composure somewhere he knew he wouldn’t get into trouble. He’d wound up here at Haven Hotel, sitting in a booth at Frank’s Bar where he’d proceeded to drown a crushing sense of resentment before the start of the first set.

  He didn’t even know what the hell he resented. He just knew he couldn’t shake the feeling coiling in his chest.

  After the first few drinks had gone down way too easy, he’d switched to seltzer because… Well, because he wasn’t going to fall into old habits. So, he’d enjoy the music then maybe go for a run and wear himself out before he went home and hopefully passed out from exhaustion.

  I should just get the hell out of here now.

  Before he did something stupid, like join them at their table because he couldn’t get what Ben had said out of his head.

  “Come with us…”

  Is that really what Ben wanted?

  His gaze arrowed back to Dorrie again, her attention glued to the stage. He knew she liked music. They’d talked about it during the brief time they’d spent together.

  Before he’d cut off all contact.

  He’d had a good reason for that. Still had a good reason.

  So why are you still obsessing over her like a teenager with a crush?

  Because his desire for her increased every time he looked at her. And he couldn’t stop himself from looking.

  But he could stop himself from being led around by his dick. That always ended in disaster.

  Christ, he needed to stop staring before Dorrie picked up on the intensity of his interest in her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, but he knew Ben would have as soon as they’d walked through the door. He hoped Ben had t
he common sense to take her back to her place if he wanted to—

  Better not go there.

  Flexing his fingers, he released the glass he’d been holding before he smashed the damn thing.

  He should leave. But now that he was looking at her, he couldn’t look away. Her profile made him want to run a finger along the straight slope of her nose and along the swell of her lower lip. Just to feel the softness of her skin.

  The smooth sounds of saxophone-driven music wrapped around him, erasing everything that wasn’t Dorrie.

  She looked beautiful tonight. Not that she hadn’t last night, but tonight there was something about her that made her…softer. And he had to wonder if it was Ben.

  She looked happy. Especially when she turned to smile at his cousin. He remembered that smile. Remembered when she’d smiled at him like that. In the few hours they’d spent together, he’d become addicted to that smile.

  Right before he’d cut her out of his life like a cancer and disappeared.

  Except he hadn’t disappeared. He’d just made sure she didn’t see him lurking on the sidelines. Which made him an even bigger dick.

  Then last night, he’d discovered that she still wanted him.

  Jesus, this situation was a goddamn land mine waiting to explode.

  And Ben, goddamn him, was fanning the flames. His cousin had leaned over to speak into Dorrie’s ear, making her smile. Something Ian couldn’t do unless she was half asleep and didn’t realize she wasn’t dreaming.

  His jaw locked and he tore his gaze away, refocused on the band. But his enjoyment of the music was fading under the strength of his desire.

  He needed to leave.

  Or maybe you should go over and sit with them.

  And do what exactly? He and Ben had never shared a woman. They didn’t have the same relationship Max and Jesse or Adam and Tristan had with their women.

  Hell, it had never even entered his mind…until Ben had brought up the damn subject.

  It won’t work for us.

  But now that the thought had been planted, he couldn’t shake it.

  Dorrie would probably be freaked out by it. It wasn’t exactly something you just threw on the table.

  And maybe that’d be exactly how to handle it.