by Xavier Neal
Pride lifts my head as I lean back against the couch.
Maybe she's right. Maybe I won't make a complete idiot of myself the first time I hook up with a straight guy in years. Wow. That sentence alone is ego popping. I'm gonna screw this up because Em is right. This is real life. No delete or backspace. No rewrites. Shit...This is gonna be so much worse than my imagination can conjure up, which is impressive if I might add. My books aren't just sexy reads. They usually contain catastrophic social disasters that fans are always surprised to see the characters come out on top of. Huh. I've never wished to be in one of my own novels more.
Minka
I follow the petite woman down the hall towards the private elevator. As soon as we arrive in front of it, she swipes her card, and politely says, “Mr. Wyatt is waiting for you on the top floor. Please enjoy your evening.”
After thanking her, I slip onto the elevator. The doors shut and I immediately drop my head backwards in agony.
Here comes the first time Pierce and I will see each other in person since our date in Vegas six weeks ago. Not enough pressure? How about the fact I'm about to meet his older brother, the very famous action star, Preston Wyatt? Before you say the night can't possibly get any worse than that, let me leave you with this little note: We're at a driving range and I've never even seen a golf club in real life. Let the nightmare ensue.
With one final ding, the elevator opens, and I'm revealed a scene that instantly pushes a smile on my face. Preston is positioning himself for a shot while his brother is leaned back in a chair at the table across from Scott. As I exit, my eyes promptly plant themselves on Pierce. His beautiful parted lips that are curved upward and his toned arms filling out his white t-shirt cause a light happy sigh.
Scott notices me before my boyfriend does. With a small head tilt, Pierce slightly turns over his shoulder to verify. Immediately, he's on his feet and heading towards me. A few short strides later, one hand is firmly on my waist, while the other is crushing our mouths together by the nape of my neck. My lips part to feverishly feel his tongue against mine, every tiny taste trembling my body until my knees are buckling. He grips me tighter and I whimper weakly.
His lips slip from mine. “Keep making that sound and we're getting the hell out of here. Right. Now.”
I smile brightly. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“A promise.” We kiss briefly again and he sighs warmly, “I've missed the hell out of you, Minka.”
“I've missed you too, Pierce.”
Just as I lift my mouth back towards his, a voice cuts in. “Are you two gonna make out all night like college freshman at a frat party or are we gonna golf?”
Pierce rolls his head around. “Don't be a dick. I haven't seen my girlfriend in six weeks.”
Love the way it sounds in person even better.
“Six weeks? I don't think I've ever gone that long without getting my dick touched.” Preston chuckles and swings the golf club. “Last time I checked Little P neither had you.”
Side stepping the abrasive comment, I question, “Little P?”
Leading me towards the table where they are relaxing with beers, he answers, “Childhood nickname. Since he's the big brother, he feels that makes him the big P.”
“It helps that I carry the big D too,” Preston chortles as he swings at another ball. Once it flies across the range, he leans the club against the wall, and walks over. He extends his hand. “Preston.”
Shaking it in return, I answer back, “Minka.”
“Pleasure.”
“Eye fuck my girlfriend again Preston and your golf swing will suck for a completely different reason,” Pierce growls, grabbing his own club.
“Careful,” Scott laughs from the seat beside me. “When it comes to Minka he's very protective.”
Hearing the statement lifts my eyebrows in surprise.
I...didn't know that...
Pierce states at the same time he lines up his shot. “Tell me you wouldn't be a little protective over the woman you're falling in love with.”
D-d-d-did he just...no...I must be delusional. I haven't eaten today in high hopes of not looking too chunky in this black halter top. Is it working? Do I look like an overstuffed penguin without the white tuxedo shirt?
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa,” Preston raises his voice. “I am not drunk enough to talk about love shit. That's going to require at least four more shots of tequila and two more beers.”
“Afraid the bar's going to run out early because it's Friday?” My hand flies over my mouth yet Scott and Pierce both laugh. “I'm...I'm sorry. That was-”
“Funny as fuck.” Preston swipes the beer glass in front of him. “You have personality. I like that.”
“I like it too,” Pierce agrees. Seconds after he swings, he snaps at his brother, “Don't drink my beer asshole.”
“You're not drinking it.”
“I'm golfing!”
“Not my fault you're a shitty multitasker,” he laughs and has a swig. Preston wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Or is he?”
Do I even really know the answer?
Once he's gulped down the remainder of my boyfriend's beverage, he shoots another playful look at me. “The drunker I get the more I look like Little P, ya know.”
“That's not how it works,” Scott sighs, having a sip of his own beer.
The waitress comes from around the corner. “Hello. My name is Candy and I'll be your server this evening.”
Preston winks. “Serve you something.”
She giggles and blushes at him before asking me, “What can I get you to drink?”
“A coke, please.”
“With like rum in it?” Preston encourages. “Or Jack? Are you a Jack kind of girl?”
No because Jack was a Jack kinda guy, hints a huge part of my sexual confidence lingering at such a low level. I know he meant the drink. I was being cheeky...
I shake my head. “Coke straight up.”
“Didn't know it was that kind of party,” Preston jokes again.
“You're not funny,” Pierce sighs. “Never have been. Never will be.”
“Must be why they give the funny lines to your co-stars.”
Shit! Probably not what I should say to my boyfriend's brother.
Thankfully, laughter erupts again and Preston smirks. “Three shots of tequila. And three more beers.”
She writes down his words. “Anything else?”
“Wings? Fries?” Preston questions the table. His eyes roam over to me. “Should I order you a salad?”
“Is there something about me that screams counting calories?”
“Could be the way your body curves in those jeans.”
There's a grumble from Pierce, which drags my eyes to him just as he marches himself over.
“Wings and fries are good.” Pierce sits beside his brother and scoots his chair closer to mine. “Hitting on my goddamn girlfriend is not.”
“Relax Little P,” Preston says shooing the waitress away. “I was joking.”
“Well I'm not.”
“Told you,” Scott hums as he stands up and heads over to take his turn. “I told you. He's protective.”
His fingers slip with mine and he gives me a sympathetic look. “Sorry my brother's a dick.”
“It's fine.”
“Stop calling me a dick,” Preston grumps and swipes Scott's unprotected beer.
“Stop acting like one.”
“You're acting like one,” he says from behind what used to be Scott's glass. When it's empty, he uses the back of his hand to wipe away the drops on the corners of his mouth. “I'm simply trying to be welcoming to your girlfriend.”
Pierce rolls his eyes. “You're not that great of an actor.”
“Neither are you,” Preston snaps back.
“You both are mediocre at best,” Scott calls during his swing.
“Agreed.” My comment causes Pierce to bump his leg into mine as he gives me a playful smile. “Your flight was okay?”
“I'm in one piece.” He waves a hand over his frame. “Despite my brother's driving.”
“I drive fine. Don't be a baby.”
“You're a baby.” Pierce snaps back.
“You two are clearly siblings,” I giggle.
“You got sibs?” Preston questions as Scott sits back down. “Do they look anywhere as foxy as you?”
Pierce leans over and pegs his brother with what looks like full force in the arm.
That shit had to hurt.
Preston glances down at the spot and then back at his brother. “Was that supposed to hurt? How many nails did you bring princess? Do we need to tell daddy to buy you a pony for your sweet 16?”
“Why do you assume women can't throw a punch?” Scott jumps into the conversation. “My sister took me to one of those less than legal MMA fights on women's night and I'll be honest, I'd be fucking terrified to say the wrong thing to one of them. I kinda like waking up in my bed not the hospital.”
They sound scary.
“Now that Scott has once again reminded us he doesn't know what it's like to have a brother, I turn my question back to you Minka. Siblings?”
“Only child.”
“Lucky,” he says playfully. “Those were the happiest four years of my life.”
Pierce shoots him his middle finger.
Scott chuckles, “They're always like this. At least since I've known them.”
“Which is how long?”
“About 12 years now,” Scott replies. Lifting up his empty glass he questions at Preston, “Fucking thirsty?”
“Dry mouth,” he laughs again.
“While my dick brother was in Florida shooting, he invited me down to give the acting thing a shot. Figured, hell why not? What did I have to lose? So, I got a job working at a theme park, which is where Scott was working too at the time. Became friends.”
“Tell her what you were doing at the theme park,” Preston pokes as the waitress returns with the drinks.
My boyfriend grumbles something under his breath.
“What's that Captain Mumbles?” His brother chuckles again. “Did you say you were Alvin from the Chipmunks?”
In a fit of giggles, I repeat, “You were Alvin?!”
“Scott was Simon,” Pierce sells out his friend.
Through my laughs, Preston lifts his shot glass and declares, “To shitty first jobs!”
They pick up the glasses, lift, cheers, clink, and shoot. After they're downed, I beg, “Please tell me more Chipmunk stories.”
Scott shakes his head relentlessly. “Nope. No way. Not happening.”
Pierce tosses his head the direction of the clubs. “How about you take a shot at golfing instead?”
“I've never golfed before,” I admit.
“Sure Little P can show you how to handle balls,” Preston chortles between sips.
Pierce shakes his head slowly, “Please ignore my moron of a brother whose single goal tonight is to get plastered.”
“Not my single goal,” he argues. “To get wasted with my little brother since I haven't seen him in six months and most likely won't for another.”
I start to smile until I see the sad look appear in Pierce's eyes. The anguish over the fact, most, if not all of Pierce's relationships are lead from a distance, twists my stomach into knots.
Just having the one that way for me is terrible. I can't imagine not seeing my parents or my best friend only twice a year. Yeah, Em and I don't get to be together as frequently as we like, but she's still just a short car ride away.
“Get as drunk as you like.” Pierce lifts his eyebrows in question at me. “Get as drunk as you want. I'll make sure you get back to your hotel safe.”
“He decided to stay at my house,” Preston speaks up. “I'm heading out of town in the morning. He'll have the whole place to himself while he's here. Why live the hotel life when you don't have to?”
“You didn't wanna stay with Minka?” Scott questions.
“We'll work out sleeping arrangements day by day, but I'm not just going to assume something like that, ya know?” Pierce has a sip of his beer. “Trying to do the respectful thing.”
“Pussy,” Preston between gulps.
“I would say that sucks that you only get one day with your brother, but I've met him now.”
The table erupts into laughter and shortly after it dies down, Pierce stands. “Come on, nottie. Let's show you how to golf.”
We move over to the putting area where he helps me pick the right club, sets the ball, and positions himself behind me. His hard body presses firmly against mine as his hands slide down my arms.
Can we naked golf alone?
Pierce's face leans down beside mine. “God, I've wanted you back in my arms since the moment I left.”
With a smile, I glance up at him. “Why's that?”
“Because you fit perfectly in them.” His mouth drops onto mine briefly, the hints of beer igniting an intoxication all my own. “I feel obligated to tell you that if it wasn't for the fact my big brother was leaving first thing in the morning, this is not how we would be spending our first night together.”
Completely oblivious to my surroundings, I get lost in his eyes that have managed to get more remarkable since our session in the back of the limo. “H-h-how would we?”
“Let's just say those moans you let me preview in the bathtub, would be turned into screams.” His lips brush against my ear. “Of my name.”
I knew I should've packed extra panties!
He adjusts his hips against mine, the hint of hard on prevalent. “Now, let's show you how to hit this ball before I get too drunk to remember.”
I giggle and try to focus on the little white ball, wishing now more than ever we were anywhere else but here.
Like maybe the backseat of another car? My bed? His bed? The fucking sidewalk. At this point, I don't care where, as long as it's somewhere. In a matter of two sentences he's turned me from a slightly rational thinker to sex being a foreign language I desperately wanna learn.
After several turns to swing at the ball, more fried food than I probably should've eaten in front of a group of guys, and several glasses of soda while they've all put back numerous shots and beers, the four of us are laughing over stories from their early career days.
“Those suits were hot as shit,” Pierce gripes between laughs.
“Yeah they fucking were,” Scott snickers. “But hey, at least you got out when you did. I stuck with that gig and ended up doing tours around the country.”
“That's right!” my boyfriend shouts, unaware of how wasted he is. “You toured for like a year right?”
“That's where I met Annette.”
I stretch my legs into Pierce's lap. “Who's Annette?”
“His ex-fiance,” Preston answers quickly. “But much like Cam, she caught the cheating bug and ruined their relationship.”
Scott leans back in his chair with a shrug. “Shit happens.”
“Wait.” I turn to look at Pierce. “Cam cheated on you?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “But I don't wanna talk about it.”
Let's make a note to come back to that. Cheating harlot automatically kicks her ranking in every department down at least three notches. If this were one of my novels something bad would happen to her for hurting the hero, like 'accidentally' jogging into a beehive.
“I wouldn't wanna talk about my ex-girlfriend sleeping with some director in hopes of getting a better part in a movie either.”
“What the fuck did I just say, Pres?” Pierce voice actually sounds hurt.
Preston finishes off the last of his beer ignoring his brother's remark. “What about you, Minka? What did you used to do before sexing up the housewives of America?”
“And other countries,” I add.
That...that wasn't necessary.
He smirks. “Fine. Before you were shelling out word porn across the world, what did you do? What was the worst job you've ever had?”
“I used to be the beer girl at the baseball games.”
Pierce's fingers continues to stroke up and down my calves, underneath my jeans. “No shit?”
“Yeah, I still don't know shit about the sport either. You know, sometimes I think it's the reason I don't like beer. Well, other than the gross way it tastes. It's kinda what I imagine drinking donkey piss would be like.” My hand flies over my mouth as my inability to know where I need to end a sentence takes over again.