Mad Love (A Nolan Brothers Novel Book 4)

by Amy Olle

He withdrew from her body and set her carefully on the floor. Then he plucked her T-shirt off the sofa back and handed it to her.

  She tugged the shirt on and dragged it over her body. “Any chance that could be considered kinky sex? I want to be able to say I’ve had kinky sex.”

  His rusty laugh rumbled in his chest. “We can look it up later on the internet.”

  “Really? I’ll go get my laptop.”

  He backed toward his bedroom door. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Don’t you dare start that internet search without me.”

  A goofy smile plastered to her face, she went into the kitchen to start some coffee. After setting the pot to brew, she turned toward the refrigerator.

  And gasped to see a man standing at the patio doors.

  Fear ricocheted through her and she dropped to her knees behind the kitchen island. Pressing her back to the wood cabinets, her heart thrummed wildly in her chest.

  With the soft squeal of the screen door sliding open and then snapping shut, panic turned to ice in her veins.

  He was inside the house.

  He’d walked right in, without knocking. Who did that?

  Tears and panic rose to choke her. This couldn’t be happening again. Was it the man from her apartment? Had he found them? Could she stay there, hidden, until Leo was out of the shower?

  Or would the intruder find him in the shower first, unsuspecting and defenseless?

  Frantically, she looked around for a weapon. As silently as she could manage, she opened the cupboard and pulled out a short stack of cooking pots with shaking hands.

  His footsteps grew near, and before he spotted her, she decided on a preemptive strike.

  With a primal scream, she leapt to her feet and launched the pots at him one after another.

  His sharp curse rent the air, and he ducked to avoid the first missile. The second hit him in the thigh, and the third, he knocked down with a swipe of his arm. The pans clattered to the floor with a series of resounding clangs.

  Prue snatched the can opener off the counter and drew back her arm.

  “Wait!” The man held his palms face out on either side of his head. “Don’t throw that. Please.”

  She blinked at him rapidly. “Who are you?” Shock mixed with her biting demand.

  Shock not at the stranger’s sudden, unexplained appearance, but at his uncanny resemblance to Leo.

  “I’m Noah. Who are you?”

  He had a thick accent, and her mind struggled to catch up with his words. “Prue.”

  “Nice to meet you, Prue.” Slowly, his hands dropped to his sides. “Don’t take this the wrong way—typically I’d be thrilled to stumble upon a half-naked woman alone in the woods—but what the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m here with Leo.”

  “Leo?” Surprise rippled across the man’s attractive features and he shot a few quick glances around the room. “He’s here?”

  “He’s in the other room. Cleaning his gun.” She cleared her throat. “One of his many, many guns.”

  One of Noah’s dark eyebrows inched upward.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch it the first time.” She surveyed him through narrowed eyes. “What did you say you’re doing here?”

  “I heard a rumor my brother was spotted in town.” He lifted his shoulders. “I wanted to check it out for myself.”

  “Your brother?”

  “My brother. Leo.”

  Her pounding heart stopped. “Leo is your brother?”

  “He is, yes.”

  “Leo has a brother,” she repeated, her heart sinking to the floorboards.

  “Four of them, actually.”

  She gasped and sputtered. “Four brothers?”

  Behind Noah, Leo appeared in the bedroom doorway. He’d wrapped a towel around his lean waist and his wet hair stood on end. His gaze moved from her, to Noah, and back to her.

  “You have a brother.” She could hardly lift her voice above a whisper.

  “Yes,” he said. “This is Noah.”

  “You lied to me?”

  Noah backed toward the patio door. “I’ll come back later—”

  “No.” Her face on fire, she froze Noah to the spot with a look. “You stay. I’ll go.”

  She rounded the island and, shoulders back, chin held high, stalked to her bedroom.

  This time, she slammed the door on him.

  Leo wanted to charge after her, and that’s exactly why he didn’t.

  That and the low whistle leaking out from between Noah’s teeth.

  Leo’s gaze swung to his brother. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re my brother. I don’t need a reason.”

  They might be brothers, but Leo and Noah knew next to nothing about each other. To be fair, Leo hardly knew any of his brothers anymore.

  He preferred to keep it that way.

  “Look, I’d love to chat, but I’m right in the middle of something here.”

  “Right. Prue, is it?” Noah rubbed his elbow. “She’s got a good arm.”

  With a frown, Leo noted the trio of pots that littered the living room floor. “She threw these at you?”

  “Oh yeah.” A deep chuckle tumbled out of Noah. “Connected two out of three.”

  “We’ll have to work on that,” Leo muttered.

  The humor left Noah’s face. “Why? Are you in trouble?”

  He was treading water, and the sharks were circling. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Are you sure? If you need anything—”

  “I’m sure.” Leo scratched a spot on his bare shoulder, but the itch moved and he chased it to the back of his neck.

  “So, there’s this thing I’ve been trying,” Noah said conversationally.

  “What’s that?” Leo asked, hoping to speed up Noah’s departure.

  “I’ve been a shitty brother to you. To all of you, but especially to you.” Noah’s dark eyes regarded him with sober frankness. “I’m trying to do better.”

  Leo itched all over now. “Let me know how that works out for you.”

  A surprisingly genuine smile lit up Noah’s features. “If you’re in town for a few days, why don’t you stop by? Mind you, I’m not asking for any of us, but the girls would love to see you. I think you’re their favorite.”

  The girls? Noah must be referring to his brothers’ wives or, in Haven’s case, soon-to-be wife.

  “I doubt that’s true.”

  Noah shrugged. “Come by and see for yourself.”

  “Haven likes having me around because she thinks she can beat me at poker, but I’ve been letting her win.” He tried to joke, but a raw and abrasive shame swept through him and he risked a glance at his brother’s face. “Emily should hate me.”

  “Emily doesn’t hate anyone.” Noah’s smile lingered. “You should see her. She looks ready to pop.”

  And just like that Leo was drowning. The waves crashed over his head, pressing down on him until the air squeezed from his lungs and the fight left his body.

  “I don’t mean to be a dick,” he said, “but I want to put on some clothes and make sure Prue is all right.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Noah said easily. “You know where we are, if you need us.”

  I won’t need you, he wanted to say. Instead, he watched Noah step through the patio doors and disappear around the side of the house.

  The rest of the day, she remained secluded in her bedroom. It wasn’t until the sun began its downward slid that he found her outside, on her knees in the dirt, picking dead leaves off the sickly stalks of the rose bush. As if the plant might sprout new growth once freed from the shackles of decay.

  Watching her, an ache formed in the center of his chest.

  “Leave it,” he said, rubbing at the tender spot beneath his breastbone.

  She ignored him and focused on pushing broken eggshells into the soil surrounding the plant.

  The
ancient paralysis tried to freeze the words in his throat, but frustration at the reappearance of the old difficulty knocked them loose. “If I can’t apologize, what can I say?”

  She sat back on her heels and regarded him with her big blue eyes. “Why did you do it?”

  “Why did I lie?”

  “The lie itself was harmless. What does it matter to me if you have four brothers or none? So why bother with it?”

  He hated how she looked at him, her delicate features full of doubt and uncertainty. In him.

  Disappointment.

  In him.

  He wanted her to look at him the way she did before the lie. As though he wasn’t a piece-of-shit loser more deserving of her scorn than her respect.

  And he really wanted her to get away from that plant.

  “Will you come over here and talk to me? Please.”

  With a harried sigh, she gained her feet only to stomp across the patio and collapse in a beach chair.

  He settled in the chair beside her and took a moment to gather his thoughts. “It’s my default,” he said finally. “Whenever someone asks me about my personal life, I lie.”

  “Why do you do that?” Her voice carried a touch of annoyance.

  The lie served two purposes. It kept them from knowing him, and him from forming attachments to them. What good were attachments when, in the end, everyone either died or left him?

  But he didn’t want to tell her that. He wanted to lie some more. Remind her, and himself, that they were only fucking, and that he didn’t need to explain or justify his behavior to her.

  That’s what he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth, the truth tumbled out instead. “It’s better than letting them in.”

  Her expression softened. “Who?”

  “Everyone.” Looking away, he dragged a hand through his hair.

  Why did he tell her that?

  Damn, he needed a drink. The impulse gripped him hard, and he shifted in the chair as though he might be able to escape its stranglehold on him.

  When he was inside her, he didn’t think about alcohol. Or things like betrayal and dishonor. Everything melted away the instant he buried himself in her sweet heat.

  He risked a glance at her.

  In her eyes, some of the doubt had receded, but a touch of wariness remained. He needed to erase that last trace of uncertainty. He needed her to forget the lie, to look at him the way she did before. He needed her faith and her trust restored.

  He needed her.

  The need defied reason.

  Kneeling before her in the sand, he brought his face level with hers. She shifted and he nestled between her thighs as his hands slipped into her hair. Unable to give voice to his apology, he pulled her to him and dropped a light kiss on her mouth. He pressed his forehead to hers while his thumbs traced the soft contours of her cheeks.

  When she tipped her chin and took a tiny taste of his mouth, her softness devastated him. The feathery stroke of her tongue licked inside him, and his heart throbbed.

  He slid his hands down the column of her throat to dance along her clavicle, and her head tipped to one side. The wide neck of her T-shirt sagged off her shoulder and his mouth followed the path of his fingers across her smooth skin. Slipping his hands beneath her shirt, he found the peak of one breast and brushed the pad of his thumb over the fabric of her bra, stroking the beaded nipple beneath.

  A gasp slipped from her.

  God, that was hot.

  He released the closure of her bra and pulled the fabric away from her body.

  She pushed his shirt over his shoulders and her nimble fingers grappled with the fastenings on his shorts even as she lifted her hips, allowing him to drag down the waistband of her shorts. When she was naked before him, he lifted a trembling hand to her silken curls. He teased her entrance until she opened for him.

  “Prue, honey, lift your knees.”

  She did and he gently pushed them wider, hooking her legs over the arms of the chair.

  Hectic color rushed over her face and chest.

  “No, keep them there.” He smoothed his palms along her inner thighs. “I want to see you.”

  The doubt in her eyes just then had nothing to do with his lies. “Like this?”

  His heart shattered.

  Damn, she was sweet. Insecure, but so fucking eager to please him. It shredded his heart. She might not want to trust him, but she’d put all her faith in him to show her what to do.

  “Yes, sweetheart, that’s perfect. You’re perfect.” The position rendered her body helpless to his touch, and emotion thickened his voice. “God, Prue, you’re so fucking perfect.”

  He pushed a finger into her soft folds. Her sounds and scent intoxicated him, and soon the need to be inside her overcame all else. Slanting his hips, he rubbed against the wet notch between her legs. Moisture from her body made him slippery, and he poised at the heart of her for a moment before nudging inside. She moaned and he pressed deeper.

  When her body sucked him in, he felt the first tremors of his release right away. But he couldn’t accept an end to the pleasure, so he drew back and pulled her onto his lap.

  Her eyes grew wide. “I don’t know how….”

  He soothed her, running his hands up and down her back, and over her hips. “Do it however you like it. There is no wrong way. Show me how you like it.”

  Lifting her hips, she centered herself over his stiff length and then sank slowly down. He closed his eyes to the dizzying, heady rush of her soft snugness. Sensation poured over, searing him.

  At first, she moved awkwardly, but then she found her rhythm. When she began rolling her hips with erotic swivels, shudders rippled through him.

  “Am I doing it right?” she asked, vulnerability shining in her eyes.

  A sound like a sob tore from him. “Jesus, yes. So right.”

  Her bottom filled his hands as her lush body rode him, plunging him deep, and deeper, into her heat. Before his eyes, her breasts swayed with her slow movements and he dragged his tongue over their pebbled peaks. Her warm depths gripped his cock, and he heard himself muttering reckless endearments and desperate pleas, tender reassurances, and oh so many impure thoughts. Lots and lots of impure thoughts.

  He groaned with triumph when she cried out with her release.

  Soon Owen would return and she would leave him, but for now she was his. Helpless to his lust and the excruciating hardness of his cock, he dragged her to the sand and shoved her knees to her chest. Then he plunged into her with unrelenting strokes.

  It was madness, but he couldn’t stop himself.

  He withdrew and pushed home, again and again. With every thrust, he wanted to lie to her. To repeat untrue words over and over, until even he believed them. Until he became them. Until falsehoods became truth, dark became light, wrong became right, and he became worthy of her.

  With every pump of his hips, her name dropped from his lips until, with a gut-wrenching groan, he hurtled over the edge.

  Afterward, while he lay mostly on top of her, his fingers toyed with the hair at her temples. He dropped kisses on her cheeks, her mouth, and the tip of her nose, and when he peered down into her face, his soul calmed to find only the remnants of her passion and no trace of her earlier uncertainty.

  It should have bothered him more to realize that by banishing the doubt from her eyes, he’d also obliterated the distance he’d sought to maintain between them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rain moved in overnight, falling from the sky as a light but steady drizzle. Thick mugginess clung to the air, though the rainy mist provided a welcome relief from the heat.

  Only a few raindrops touched Prue’s hair and skin in her spot beneath the pergola. Today, the lake churned and roiled with restlessness, stirred up by the approaching storm. Today, the lake reminded her of Leo.

  Like the waves in the water, he pushed her away only to pull her back in again. Hard and cold one moment, he’d turn tender and sweet in the next. He’d l
ie to her about little things, then make love to her in a way that only left room for fierce, searing honesty. There were times she thought he didn’t even like her, but then he’d risk his life for her, or kiss her with a knowledge so intimate and deep, she couldn’t believe he didn’t at least care for her a little.

  The tender soreness in her heart when she thought about him worried her. He obviously had issues, and was quite possibly hung up on another woman. She couldn’t let herself love him. That’d be suicidal.

  Behind her, the screen door opened with a soft screech. She turned as Leo poked his head outside.

  His green-gold eyes alight, he held up his cell phone. “Claymore sent some information.”

  Her heart jumped. She scrambled out of the hammock and bounded through the doorway after him. “Can I look at it?”

  He nodded. “Let’s use your laptop.”

  While he cleared a spot on the coffee table, she retrieved her computer from the bedroom. Returning, she set it on the coffee table in front of him.

  “This is just the first batch of stuff.” With a cable, he connected his cell phone to her laptop. “He said there’s more, a lot more, but he wants to follow up on a few leads before he sends it over.”

  He opened the first file, and she leaned in to read the small print on the screen.

  “Hold on, I need to get my glasses.”

  She darted to her bedroom, but her glasses weren’t on the nightstand where she’d left them. A frenzied search finally tracked them to the floor under the bed, where they must’ve fallen. Shoving them on, she scrambled to her feet.

  When she returned to the living room, Leo sat back on the couch, his hands linked behind his head. The expression on his face slowed her steps.

  She perched on the edge of the arm chair. “What’s wrong? What does it say?”

  “King’s not involved in the smuggling ring.” The cold fury in his voice sent a chill straight to her heart. “He’s running it.”

  A rush of wild fury erupted from her. “I knew it!” She swallowed the outburst. “That bastard.”

  “And they’re not just dealing in guns and drugs.”

  She gave her a head a small shake, baffled.

  “They’re trafficking humans, too. Mostly underage girls.”