Wilde About Brant - The Brothers Wilde Series Book Two

by Cate Faircloth

  Cora

  Like a blushing school girl, I read over Brant’s texts as I watch television. I don’t know why I shut things down so fast, and I hover over the keys wondering if I should start it up again. But I have to be stronger than that.

  Brant is charming and funny and nice, I think. But I also know that something just doesn’t feel right with him, and I don’t know why. It isn’t that he is a famous rock star because I don’t want to judge him off of that, but the vibes I get beyond extreme sexual attraction and witty conversation don’t feel the best.

  “What’s up with you?” Damien interrupts my thoughts.

  “What? Nothing. Finish your homework,” I say aimlessly. It seems I have a record of things to say ever since I had to start playing parent.

  “I did, hours ago. You’ve been smiling and frowning at your phone on and off.” He chuckles and comes to sit next to me, but I hide my screen.

  “Nothing.”

  He lunges for it anyway, and I try to fight him off, but he isn’t actually my little brother anymore, so he wins, and I give up. I watch him read the texts and try to figure out when he grew up. At fifteen, he already grows facial hair, he shaves every other day and works out to build up his little man muscles. I only recently got him to stop walking around shirtless—this isn’t a frat house.

  “Why did you shut him down like that? This is the guy you romped with the other day?”

  I laugh at his weird words. “Yeah. That’s him. It’s complicated because I work with him. I almost work for him since he is a client I’m legally responsible for.”

  “Oh shit, he’s famous?” Damien widens his eyes at me.

  “Yeah. I didn’t know that when I first met him, but now I do. He’s a rock star.”

  Damien starts laughing. “Wow, mamacita, that’s mainstream.” He nudges me, and I do the same to him.

  “Shut up. It’s not like he’s… we aren’t involved, and we won’t be.”

  “He likes you, obviously. As a man…”

  “You’re like twelve.”

  “As a man, I’m telling you. What could be that bad?”

  Damien has a lot to say, and I entertain him until we head off to bed. My usual night routine of a hot shower and face mask sends me right to sleep until I’m dragged out by said rock star.

  I shake my head and scoff the entire drive to the station. How the hell did I get dragged into this? Missing my beauty sleep, not thinking clearly. I may want to try and keep him out, but he’s already in. I knew there was something about him, and I don’t know what it is yet, but I know whatever happened tonight wasn’t for nothing.

  I’ve never bailed anyone out of jail before, so I go through a clerk and then two officers—I think to make sure I’m a normal person or something. It takes almost an hour, and a split debit card payment for a two-thousand-dollar bail amount before I see Brant come around the corner.

  I expected his permanent smug smile and gleaming eyes. What I get instead is his tired eyes and slumped frame trudging across the floor.

  “Hey.” He gives me a slight smile. I cross my arms over my matching pink jumpsuit and try not to yell at him for dragging me into his mess.

  “Hi.”

  He chews the inside of his lips and shifts on his feet nervously. “Thank you for coming. I can pay you back right now or go to the bank tomorrow.” His eyes are soft and searching. I look up into them and get lost despite my instinct. It doesn’t stand a chance with him.

  “Tomorrow is fine. I guess you need a ride.” I lick my lips and clutch my purse. He steps closer, and I am dizzied with his familiar scent mixed with booze and whatever he may have encountered in here.

  “Um, yeah. Are you up for a quick bite? I could use one.”

  I almost roll my eyes as I huff. “Brant, it’s so late. I have to… I go to work really early.”

  “I know. I know, but…” With one step, he comes closer, and I feel the heat of us meeting. “I just want to explain things, Cora. Because I’m fairly certain of how this is going to go.”

  I almost snap in anger but calm myself. “And how is that?” I say through clenched teeth.

  He fights through his exhaustion and laughs. “You already know I’m no good for you, but we’re too good together for that to matter.”

  “We don’t know each other, Brant.”

  “Yeah. But we can. Right now, though, it’s just a very late dinner because I am starving, and you’re the one with the car.”

  I almost laugh. Instead, I nod, and we head out of the station to my Wrangler. We find a diner off the highway and go there. Surprisingly, the place has a few people in it—young people probably done with a night out, but still.

  We have a booth. I sit across from him, and his long legs make his knees graze mine.

  “So, what happened?” I cross my arms and stare at him.

  Brant smirks. “Coffee first. Please.”

  I groan internally, but I am hungry too because I got woken up in the middle of the night. The nice waitress comes, and he gets coffee and a pancake plate while I just get tea and some fries. It doesn’t make much sense, but I don’t want a huge meal keeping me up. Brant and his antics probably will.

  “I went out to this club opening an old friend invited me to. It was just supposed to be a simple night making my appearance and whatnot.”

  I nod and nibble on a fry. I let him get halfway through eating before I bother him again.

  “So, it wasn’t?”

  He chews slower and nods. “Yeah. There were drugs there, and the DEA had been on the club owner for a long time. Didn’t have much to do with us.”

  I trust my instinct again.

  “But you had something to do with drugs?”

  He stares directly into my eyes with shock like he didn’t know I would know. I didn’t know I would know either. Not until he makes this face like I’ve ripped him open, and he feels exposed.

  “Before. When I was on tour.”

  “And not anymore?” I forget my food and focus on him.

  Brant seems like he has no worries in the world, like he doesn’t talk about this kind of stuff often, and I don’t think he does.

  “No. It was… my dad died just before I went on tour. I took it pretty hard. Got into the partying scene, then alcohol and drugs. All kinds of shit.” He lets out a heavy breath and leans forward. I force myself not to get lost in the hardened features of his face—handsome and rugged. It’s like he has aged another five years just talking about it. “I forgot about losing my dad when I was on stage, but when I was offstage, it all got bad again. I needed the… I thought I needed it. I got clean the end of my tour and have been ever since.”

  “But you still drink?”

  “It was mostly… it was the drugs. I guess if I had less alcohol tonight, I’d have known when the club got busted.”

  I nod and take in his words. Brant… he sounds so hurt and lost. It isn’t like when he sings because, trust me, I listened to every song after that day in the office. He shows his emotions in his music but how he really feels is right here in front of me, and I wonder why he trusts me so much to tell me.

  “I don’t even know where my friend, Jackson, is. I guess he really isn’t my friend.”

  “I can find out. But won’t people know about you?”

  Brant widens his eyes as he realizes. “Yeah… I might have been trending on Twitter and the Gram, but I don’t know how all this turned out.” He checks his phone and visibly relaxes. “My publicist would have been blowing up my phone if something got out. I guess I’m lucky.”

  I scoff. “You think?”

  He leans across the table. “I am. To have you here to help me… I’ve never told anyone about all that.”

  “Don’t try and make me feel special, Brant. You’re obligated to your issues. I have my shit to deal with, too. I never asked you to be some perfect man, and it isn’t why I told you there couldn’t be anything between us. So please don’t think it’s because of this either,
but I could never be with you, Brant. I’m sorry.”

  My eyes close as I exhale. It feels too heavy to have to say that, and I know it’s because enough of me doesn’t really believe it.

  Brant is under my skin. I want to know him. I want to know why he chose music, what gets his thoughts turning, and why after whatever it is he went through, he can still smile and joke around. My parents made me hard and untrusting. Their years of neglect, my mother’s drug problem, and my dad’s same vices were too much. I turned eighteen, took power of attorney of them, became Damien’s guardian, and put them in a permanent rehab facility. I haven’t seen them in years.

  This parallel is too dizzying to comprehend. So, I don’t try to. I stick to my loose words and sip my tea to calm my scratchy throat because tears are building up, and I need to stop them.

  “I respect your wishes, Cora. I’ll leave you alone. If that’s what you really want. Your risks are your choice. I know I’m a risk, but I honestly don’t think I’ll ever give up because when I look at you… looking at you right now… if I never wrote another song, I’d be perfectly happy if you were still here.”

  I avert his gaze to make sure I don’t sink into his spell.

  “I don’t know why it’s this intense between us,” I whisper.

  He chuckles once. “Yeah. I don’t know either. How did you know about the drugs?”

  “I just had a feeling,” I lie. I had been around people who either experimented or just stuck to one thing long enough to know the tells.

  “Your lawyer instinct?”

  I manage a giggle. “Maybe.” I smile at him, and he grins. I’m in way over my head already.

  He pays for the meal and reminds me he’ll pay me back for bail. That’s the least of my worries. I want to get him home and get myself back home. So, I don’t know why when I pull up to his place, and I let him—I don’t stop him from coaxing me inside.

  I’m too tired of saying no to something I want. I’m too tired of my routine and my familiar life. Brant changed things ever since that day in the parking garage, and if I don’t pursue this fire in my core for him, I’ll always regret it.

  And so, for once, I follow my heart instead of my head and hope I don’t become collateral damage.

  11

  Brant

  I didn’t mean to convince Cora to come inside. I think she has just realized she doesn’t really want to resist me because I didn’t have to try that hard. I wouldn’t force her, and I would respect her wishes if I truly believed she wanted me to stop trying to get to her.

  When we get inside the living room, I revel in just having her here. Cora looks like a vision in the pink jumpsuit she has on. I can tell she doesn’t have anything on underneath the top at all, but I don’t let my eyes stop there. She looks tired from me dragging her out of bed, but her eyes are just so soft, deep pools of chestnut brown I just get lost in. The slight features of her rounded face hold all her natural beauty together, and I wonder how I can manage not to mess this up if I haven’t already.

  “I’m just going to make sure you get into bed okay,” she finally says something. I clear my throat and focus my eyes back on her.

  “I’m a grown man. I can get into bed on my own.” I smirk at her, but she doesn’t entertain it. I wet my lips and step toward her.

  “Why did you really come, Cora?”

  She blinks up at me but looks away as she crosses her arms. “I don’t know. I’m not an evil person. I wanted to help you.”

  I chuckle softly. “I know you aren’t. I mean why did you come inside?” My head leans down as I try to get closer to her. I lay my fingers under her chin to get her to finally look at me again.

  She swallows and bites her full pink bottom lip. “Because I wanted to. I just… I’m too old to play games, Brant. A relationship is the last thing on my mind, and I doubt it’s the first thing on yours. We only just met, and I can’t stop thinking about you. That’s scary.”

  I take in her words and nod. She uncrosses her arms and is hesitant to touch me, but she does. Her hands slide around my waist as I pull her close to me. I let my lips hover over hers just to feel her, inhale her sweet scent, and cup her soft cheeks.

  “Then be afraid, Cora. But don’t deny yourself what you really want.”

  She inhales as if to speak, and I stop her by kissing her. Once our lips touch, it’s like there has been a drought. I haven’t been able to hydrate myself until I get a taste of her lips again—just so soft and sweet and perfect that I get lost in them. I coax her lips apart and groan as she sucks mine immediately. My tongue slides through her lips and laps over hers as the kiss deepens. Her body goes flush against mine, and every curve of her, every degree of her heat is latched onto me as I hold her.

  I slide my hands up the nape of her neck and turn her head as she reaches up to kiss me deeper. I quickly lose my breath but continue anyway inhaling sharply against her because I don’t want to let her go. The alcohol seems to be out of my system as I have no problem getting hard. I press my hips to hers as she gasps at the touch of me. She pulls away, and I almost growl with frustration before I see her eyes flutter open in a haze.

  “Brant…” she whispers.

  I lick my lips and smirk down at her. She shakes her head as if she gives up, her hands slide down my waist and over my jeans to my hips. My jaw clenches trying to hold back from taking her right here and now.

  “Aren’t you going to put me to bed?” I’m sure my grin looks as shit eating as it feels, but she bites over her bottom lip and nods slightly.

  It’s my cue to tug her along. I hold her hand as she trails behind me, and we climb the stairs to my bedroom. Her little pants fill the room as I trail my eyes on her and pin her in place at the post of my bed.

  I drop my shirt off and saunter toward her watching her eyes dance across my chest and abs down to the bulge in my pants. Off goes my shoes and socks, as she does the same. I step forward and kiss her again—more urgently—just more before I break away.

  Her nipples poke through the fabric of her jacket. I rub over them in circles, and she lets out a little moan. I miss hearing her moans. I didn’t get enough of them the first time, and I don’t think I ever will. I zip down her jacket, and her full breasts peek out. My lips twitch to taste her, and so I do. I trail kisses down her neck and over her collarbone sucking new small welts into her creamy skin.

  “My God, you know you’re beautiful, Cora? So fucking beautiful.” I kiss her hard, our tongues dancing faster than before and lips sucking until we both feel the blood pumping between them.

  I slide her jacket off and run my hands up the smooth skin of her back and then up the valley of her stomach to her breasts where I massage her in my hands and pinch her nipples to hardened buds. She pulls away from the kiss and pants against my ear. Her hands make quick work of my jeans, and I step out of them before I lift her onto the bed and snatch her pants off so fast she squeals.

  Her panties are a deep red color offsetting the tan of her skin. I run my first two fingers over her throbbing sex through the fabric. Her back arches as she juts toward me and cries out my name. It sounds better than the music I make.

  “I’ve been thinking about tasting you since that first night.” I can’t get her panties off fast enough, but once I do, I’m between her legs kissing up her thighs to her bare sex—tight and throbbing for me.

  Her arousal drips down, and I lick it up before I get to her clit. She clutches my hair so tightly it stings, but I don’t care. I hold her legs open and explore every inch of her with my tongue. She responds to me so fast, so easily. I know I have her close already, but I leave her teetering—begging. It’s enough to make her scream louder and louder. My tongue makes zigzags and hard lines over her, around her, and side to side. I focus on her clit for a short moment, and she’s done. Her body erupts, and she comes deliciously on my face, and I hold her there until I’m satisfied.

  I kiss back up her body and let my tongue wet her nipples before I kiss he
r lips again and let her taste herself on my tongue. Our kiss breaks, and she looks at me with darkened eyes as we roll over. Her soft body lies on mine, and I love feeling the weight of her against me.

  Her hips grind on my cock over my boxers, and I grip her ass to keep her going. When I can’t take anymore, I help her get me out of them. She takes the base of my cock in her hand and squeezes before drawing her hand up.

  “Cora, fuck…” I cup her face and kiss her.

  She keeps going until I feel a tightening in my core, and I move her leg over me. The heat of her sex is sweltering, and it almost breaks me to stop for a condom. I get it on, and the slide inside of her is tight and perfect. I don’t stop until all of me is inside her.

  My hands tighten on her waist and slide down to her ass where I guide her slow movements. She moans into my ear with a deep sigh as she starts to move. Her body grips me so tightly I almost see stars. It can’t be this good, I must be dreaming. But it really is. Parts of me I forgot about are tethered to her. My soul is etching to her, and it takes all of me not to just drive into her until the edge of bliss and after.

  I want to feel her like this—in control of me, not denying herself the truth. She looks in my eyes, and it all seems to stop just then—us together, fitting together in the most perfect way. I undo the tie in her hair and let her hair curtain around her face, her scents flow toward me and travel right to my cock hardening inside of her at every thrust. Most of me wants to take over and drive into her faster than I can blink, the other wants her to be in control and go at an agonizingly slow pace.

  Our gaze breaks as she closes in and presses her lips to mine. I suck her plump bottom lip between mine and let her take over the kiss. Her lips are so soft against mine yet so intense. We don’t have to guess because it just comes naturally. I rub the flesh of her thighs and grip her hips harder as I guide myself to go deeper inside of her. She moans against my lips and breaks away. I kiss down her jaw and to her ear, a small sensitive spot that makes her mewl, and goosebumps tickle my lips as I suckle her skin.