Chapter Ten
Negative energy ricocheted around the room as some of the guys stalked back and forth across their glass-enclosed living room. Others drank, and a few showed their macho mentality as they slammed their fists into open palms and declared if they ever saw Aaron again, they’d teach him a thing or two.
“I didn’t like the guy from the start, but I didn’t see him going all caveman either,” William said.
“Yeah, should have known when he took that shot to the crotch and didn’t bitch and moan about it he wasn’t right in the head.” Josh kicked back on the couch with a beer and shook his head. “I mean, yeah, you don’t want to look like a wimp in front of your girl. The dude just smiled.”
Brody sat off in a corner, watching the muted streaks from the setting sun fade into black. Across the Bay, San Francisco glittered against the night sky. He wouldn’t mind being there, lost among the tourists, breathing in the sights and sounds of the city. He and Denise could hop on a streetcar, go explore Chinatown, or stroll the marina. Any one of a hundred places would be better than sitting here, locked away from the world. As long as Denise was with him, he knew he’d have a good time. Sans the rest of the guys.
“Brody, my man. You got some mad skills, my friend. Nice job taking that jerk down.” Blake walked over and exchanged fist bumps.
“Thanks. I’m going out, get some fresh air.” He escaped to the deck overlooking the water and followed it down to the patio.
He wandered around the property with no clear agenda other than a few minutes of peace. The camera crews had retired for the night, which meant squat. He knew they had cameras and mics hidden all over the place. The first thing he’d done upon arriving was to check the bedroom—fake coat hook located—and bathroom—none found—for the annoying spyware. Out here, he’d spotted them in trees and the eaves of the house, as well as set up to look like outdoor lighting. He didn’t care if they caught him out and about, or even leaving as he slipped out the gates of purgatory.
Technically, no one was supposed to leave the property without informing the crew first. It was like being back in grade school and having to ask to go to the bathroom.
He walked for twenty minutes or so, and when he found himself facing the wrought-iron fence before him, he didn’t even question his arrival. In the back of his mind he’d known all along where he was headed. It was where he always seemed to be heading. Soft lights illuminated a call box next to the gate. He pressed the button and waited. No answer. Maybe Steve, the producer, had taken her out to dinner. Or she’d gone to bed early. After the day she’d had, he wouldn’t blame her.
As he turned to leave, faint chords of a familiar song dragged his attention back. He followed the fence line through the trees and down to the water’s edge. The barrier tapered off a few feet out into the Bay before disappearing altogether. If he stayed close to the shore, he could climb over without getting soaked. He slipped off his sneakers, tied them together, and flung them over his shoulder. Edging out slowly, he felt his way along the railing until it was three feet high and climbed over. All was good until he stepped in silt and his foot slipped out from under him. He landed on his butt in cold seawater.
Sweet laughter had him looking up. He hadn’t even noticed the light shining on him had come from a flashlight until then.
“What are you doing here?” Denise moved the flashlight so its beam didn’t land directly on his face.
“Felt like going for a swim. Care to join me?”
“In the Bay? In March? I think I’ll take my pool. You better get out of there before you get hypothermia.”
He tossed his shoes onto the grass and pulled himself up with the railing. “Now that you mention it, I’m starting to lose feeling in my limbs. Maybe you should warm me up.”
She picked up his shoes and waited for him to catch up. “Come on. I have the perfect solution.”
He followed her up the path. Her hips swayed under the wrap she wore, which hit the ground, covering her lovely legs, and he found himself mesmerized. She stopped next to the hot tub, dropped her skirt, and pulled off her shirt before climbing in. “Get in here and warm up and then tell me what you’re doing here. I didn’t see a cameraman out there, so I take it they don’t know you’ve gone AWOL.”
“I was worried about you.” He slipped into the water and sat on the bench across from her. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“Mostly my pride and a couple of bruises.” She played with the water in front of her, creating ripples in the foam. “Thanks for coming when you did. If you hadn’t . . .”
“When I saw you two, the look on your face . . . everything went red. If the other guys hadn’t been there I don’t think I would have stopped with one punch.”
“Sure you would have. You’ve never lost control of your temper.”
“You don’t get it. I keep a tight rein on my temper because I know deep down I’m just like him. If I let my control slip even a little, I won’t be able to stop. I didn’t want to stop today.”
Denise moved to the seat next to him, wrapped her arms around his arm, and laid her head on his shoulder. “Brody, you’re nothing like your dad. You were defending me against a bully, not taking your rage out on an innocent person.”
“I was standing there and when he pushed you down, I didn’t see you. I saw my mom, and I was sixteen again, full of anger. Then I was back in the present, but all I could see was my dad’s face.”
She scooted around and straddled his lap. Taking his face in her soft, small hands, she made him look her in the eyes. “Listen to me, Brody Andrew Nichols. You are nothing like that monster. You’ve never started a fight in your life, and the only time you’ve ever hit anyone was in someone else’s defense, unless you’ve changed in the last couple of years. Have you?”
“No.”
“You spend countless hours in court standing up for victims of domestic abuse, and all free of charge. Your father never lifted a finger to help another living soul.”
She wouldn’t let go of his face. How could someone so small be so strong?
“No. I get what you’re saying. I haven’t morphed into him yet, but the anger sits right below the surface, waiting to be released. It’s only a matter of time and the right circumstances.”
“Brody, Brody, Brody. Don’t you know given the right circumstances we’re all capable of violence? That’s what the experts say, and who are we to argue with them?” She slipped her arms around him and held him tight.
They were skin to skin. His breathing grew labored. “Dee.”
She pulled back. A woman could drown in the passion filling his eyes. Good thing she was a strong swimmer. “Forget about your dad. He’s gone and can’t hurt you or your mom or anyone else, ever again. Let it all go—the pain, the fear, and the anger. You survived. So did your mom. You’re stronger than he is—I don’t mean physically—but in here.” She tapped his chest to emphasize her point.
He leaned his head forward, resting his forehead against hers. “I didn’t come over here to talk about me. You’re the one who had a traumatic day. I was worried about you. But like you said, you can take care of yourself.”
She slid her hands up his defined biceps, across his toned shoulders, and came to rest at the base of his skull. “I’m glad you came. If you hadn’t showed up this afternoon when you did . . .” A shudder of remembered fear snaked down her back. “It was like another person possessed Aaron. One minute he was all sweet and funny and the next—bam. Crazy talk. Like how we had this special connection and he knew the rest of you meant nothing to me. He knew I couldn’t send you all home yet, but that if I could, I’d run away with him on the spot.”
“He’s gone now. How long until the show moves you to a new location?”
Scooting closer, she sought the warmth of Brody’s body. “A week, and then we head out of the country. When will they release him?”
“Hard to say for sure. Generally it takes around two, maybe three days before he
sees a judge and can post bail. Tomorrow you need to talk to the producers about security around this place.”
More chills broke out across her body. “I don’t know how I can be cold sitting in one-hundred-and-two–degree water. Do you think Aaron will try to see me?”
“Not if I can help it. I’ll sneak down here every night to keep you safe.”
She snuggled closer, laying her head on his shoulder while he held her until the chills disappeared and the fear dissipated, leaving behind a much different feeling. One she should ignore.
His hand curved around the back of her neck. For a long moment he stared at her mouth, and she could almost hear him debating inside his head: should I or shouldn’t I?
“Yes,” she whispered, hoping to help him out.
“What about the cameras?”
“They removed all of them when you guys went back to your place.”
He kissed her so softly, taking his time getting reacquainted. His lips were smooth and warm and he tasted so good. The pressure on the back of her head increased and his kisses went from sweet and light to rough and demanding, making her body sing with desire. He smelled of salt and chlorine and Brody. That special scent that was all his own and distinctly male. She pressed closer and closer, never getting enough. She rolled her hips into him and Brody pulled back.
“Wait,” he gasped.
“Why?”
He sat back, putting a little space between them. “Were you going to send me home today?”
“No, and before you ask, not only because the producers want you around.” She leaned forward and nipped his earlobe. She didn’t want to talk. Talking was overrated.
“Not out here.” Brody pulled away. “They said they took all the cameras, but I’d rather not chance it.” He stood up, scooping her up with him.
“Whoa, put me down. I can walk.” She laughed and let her legs drop from around his waist.
“Not a chance. I like you exactly where you are.”
She wrapped her legs back around his waist and gave him directions to her room. He stopped long enough to lock the glass door and ask if the others were secured. She appreciated that he was taking precautions to protect her reputation, but really she just wished he’d hurry up and take her.
He let her down and left her standing next to the bed as he disappeared into the bathroom, only to come out a few minutes later with a fluffy white bath sheet. He used swift, sure strokes to dry her off and then himself before he tossed the towel in the general direction of the corner chair.
He dug out his drenched wallet, pulled out a condom, and dropped both on the nightstand.
“Anything else you’d like to take care of before we get back to business? Do a load of laundry? Call your mom? Order takeout?” She held back the laughter but knew the smirk spoke volumes. This was such a Brody thing: having to make sure everything was taken care of and neat at the same time. She reached up and undid the string holding her bikini top in place and let it fall.
He stopped moving, stopped looking around, and focused exactly where she wanted him. On her.
She reached behind and undid the back before she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her bottoms and inched them down until they met the floor.
“Now that I have your attention, I believe you were in the middle of consoling me, and I’m definitely not over my ordeal yet.” She took the playful approach, even though inside she felt anything but. The man drove her crazy in more ways than one. Right now it was one of those mixed good/bad ways, where she wanted him like nothing she’d ever desired before yet knew giving in would lead her down a path she might not be ready to take.
Brody peeled off his wet shorts and tossed them in the direction of the bathroom, never taking his gaze off her. He stalked toward her like a panther on the hunt, slowly backing her up until her legs hit the bed and she dropped down onto it. She scooted backward to get fully on the bed while Brody crawled up her body, singeing every nerve ending in his wake. He reclaimed her mouth while he explored her body with the very tips of his fingers, circling here and there and going back for more in certain areas. He took his sweet, sweet time doing as he pleased.
And while it pleased her too—big-time—, it also drove her nuts. She was about to grab his hand and put it where she wanted it when he finally slid his finger over her clit, again taking up that slow, rhythmic exploration. He never stopped kissing her.
This wasn’t the Brody of their youth, eager to please and be inside her. This was a man on a mission. And oh, dear God, was he succeeding. She couldn’t figure out if this was cloud nine or purgatory. Her body burned with desire and need and she could feel the pressure building. He slid a finger deep inside her and ground the heel of his palm against her.
“Oh, yes,” she cried out, tilting her hips to meet his thrust.
He nibbled his way down from her mouth past the sensitive spot by her ear and over her collarbone until he reached her breasts. He scraped his teeth over her nipple before capturing it in his mouth. She dug her short nails into the bed and grabbed handfuls of the sheet, holding on for the ride. The dual sensations were like being on a speeding roller coaster, one minute up and the next plunging straight down, before making the climb back to the top.
And when she plummeted down that final drop, Brody was right there to catch her and capture her scream with his kiss. Reminding her that he’d always been there for her when she let him. She knew he always would, but she didn’t want to think about tomorrow or next month or anything other than this moment in time.
As she lay panting, Brody rolled over, slipped on the condom, and slid into her, taking her back to the top.
She’d never felt more loved or safe than when she’d been in Brody’s arms. Tonight was no different. But they couldn’t just pick up where they’d left off. What they’d had, while good, hadn’t worked. To have any kind of future together, things had to change. They had to become not just a couple but also a team.
Did he even want a future with her?
Not once since she’d gone to him for help had he said he wanted her back. His words at the welcome party had been that he was there to keep her safe, not win her back. Heck, this could mean nothing more to him than a quick roll in the hay, a way to blow off steam, and after being cooped up with a dozen guys for the past week, she imagined there was a lot of steam built up. Lucky her.
She forced herself to stop thinking and focus on the present, not hard, as Brody rocked into her and she met him stroke for stroke. He stopped, dropped, and rolled her over, placing her on top and letting her set the pace. He slid his hands up to her hips and pulled her close before continuing up to her ribs and then capturing her breasts in his palms. As she rocked, he kneaded and caressed and pinched.
Running her fingertips over his abdomen, she reveled in the feel of the man beneath her, in the feel of power as she listened to his groans and labored breathing. He slid his hand down her soft stomach and slipped a finger between them. He waited until she begged for release. She screamed as explosions rocked her body. She’d no more than caught her breath when Brody followed before his whole body went slack beneath her.
She slid off him and rested her head on his chest, trying to catch her own breath. The rapid beat of his heart brought a smile to her face.
“You still alive?”
“Barely, but if I die I want my headstone to read it was worth it.”
She lifted her head and her lips met his. The kiss was long and neither hard nor soft but left her panting and wanting more. Already? she asked herself, shocked at how insatiable she felt. Not that she thought for one moment she had the strength or energy to move, much less repeat their performance.
Curled up to his side, she traced figure eights over his chest and stomach in slow, even strokes. “Are you hungry?”
“No, and even if I was, I don’t think I have what it takes to get up and eat right now.”
“Me neither.”
After a few minutes, Brody’s breathing leve
led off, indicating he’d fallen asleep. Normally, she would have done the same, but while her body was limp-noodle relaxed, her mind whirled around at ninety miles an hour. She tried to push the thoughts away. The consequences of their actions could be dealt with later. Sadly, her brain had other ideas and kept circling back to her response to Brody’s question earlier. Why hadn’t she wanted to send him home? Did she harbor some small kernel of hope that being here together, him seeing her with other men, would be the magic solution to them working everything out? Or was she deluding herself?
Her phone pinged from the nightstand, notifying her of a text. Slowly, so as not to wake him, she rolled over and grabbed it. While the guys had to give up their electronics, she was allowed to keep hers. Partly because the producers used them to keep in touch with her, like now, with Steve’s message checking on her to make sure she was okay, and to warn her the crew would be there bright and early at seven.
She shot back a quick text, letting him know she was alive and well and would see him in the morning. There was also a second text waiting for her from Jenna.
It was after three in the morning Eastern time, but she didn’t worry because she knew her friend was pulling the nightshift this month. The text was short and sweet: any hot guys?
Denise checked to make sure Brody was still sleeping before responding.
You mean besides Brody?
No more than a second or two went by before Jenna responded.
What? You mean your ex-fiancé Brody? Holy moly. I’m dying here. Give me deets.
Too long to type. Will try to call when I can. Then I can tell you about all the hotties . . . way more than I imagined.
“How come you get a cell phone and we don’t?” Brody rolled over and looked at her through half-closed eyes.
“Because I’m the star.”
“Oh, yeah? What other special treatment does the star get?” He reached out and ran his thumb down the back of her bent leg, sending her into a short fit of giggles.
Fiance for Keeps Page 13