by Gina Kincade
“Sure.”
A little space separated our bodies when we both headed to the table at the same time. “You smell really good, too.” The words fell out of my mouth as her smell, calm and feminine and classy, filled my nostrils.
She cleared her throat and jerked her gaze toward the lettuce. “Thank you.”
I started slicing the carrots. “That’s something Zach should have said instead of me.”
Shredding the lettuce, she shook her head. “Can we…forget about this whole thing with your brother? The only reason I’m staying and having this dinner is you.”
I froze for a second, my heart thudding. “Me?”
“I mean, this house in the middle of nowhere, with three men… If Beastly hadn’t been written on that card, I wouldn’t have showed up in the first place. And with you, Samantha’s father, in the house, I feel it’s safe to stay.”
“Oh. I see.” I resumed the cutting. Of course.” For a moment there, I thought she meant something else entirely. Something I’d felt for a couple of months every time I picked Samantha up from school and saw Keera.
A crush.
One I never allowed myself to dwell on. Never would. Obviously, to her, I was safe. A buffer.
We both reached for the bowl at once. Our hands touched gently, and that warm, fuzzy feeling found me again. I didn’t retract my hand. It lingered on the tremble of hers.
I couldn’t help but smile at the flush that rose on her cheeks. She was…innocent…in a way that wasn’t cute or refreshing. It was seductive. Sinful. She was a walking temptation in my kitchen, begging to be served.
My lips were too close to her cheek, but I only open them to speak. “You really should—”
“Sorry, Keera, I have some…” Kyle was suddenly in the kitchen, lifting his head from his phone to us. I didn’t hear him come in. She flinched and gasped, her hand flying to hide behind her back. His mouth curved with a knowing grin. “…bad news.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “What bad news?”
“There is a blizzard coming our way. The roads are being closed,” he announced.
“What? No! Oh my God. I have to go.” She dashed out.
“Wait.” I trailed after her. “You can’t drive in this weather. I’ll drive you.”
She marched to the door. “No, thanks. I can take care of myself. How are you going to get back if you do anyway?”
“I’ll stay in town. It’s okay. Just let me grab my coat.”
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news again, but have you looked outside? The snow is six inches already. No one can drive in this weather. Not even you, Brandon,” Kyle said.
Chapter Six
Zach
“I’ll take my chances.” Her voice echoed in my ears.
That was all I could take before I sprang to the hall. The freezing cold reached me from here. She was already one foot out, and neither of those useless fuckers was able to stop her. I shoved my way through and grabbed her by the wrist. Then I hauled her body inside.
Those lips parted, an aborted scream leaving her lungs. The walls of the cabin rattled as I slammed the door behind us. Snow swirled in after us in big wet flakes. My chest heaved with the force of my breaths.
“What the hell are you thinking?” I growled.
She didn’t cower or simper, trying in vain to yank her arm free from my grip. She jutted out her chin. “What the hell are you doing?”
I jabbed my free hand at the door. “There’s a fucking blizzard starting up out there.”
She faltered just a fraction, digging her teeth into her plush lower lip. It was so fucking sexy I could hardly stand it.
“You can’t go back out. It’s starting to pile up. Heading down the slope, you’ll be off the road before the second switchback.”
“I said I’ll take my chances. There’s no way I can get stranded in here.” She tried to tug her hand free again, but I refused to let go.
Not just because of how good her warm body felt so close to mine. How sweet she smelled. How hard she made my cock.
Squeezing her wrist harder, I shook my head. “Like hell.”
“What are you going to do? Keep me here?”
It wasn’t as if she could fight me off. I could lock her away in here and set her down by the fire. Peel off all her clothes and taste every inch of her perfect skin…
In a flash, I dropped her hand, jerking back as if I’d been stung. Fuck. What kind of sick, twisted bastard was I?
The idea of ravaging her and keeping her might smolder my blood and swell my balls, but there was still some scrap of the man I was inside me.
What kind of life would that be for her anyway? Penned up in these four walls with a crazy bastard and his ugly brother. I could keep her fed, sheltered and high on orgasms for eternity, but that was about it. There was nothing else I could give her.
She wanted romance and flowers and getting swept off her feet on Valentine’s Day. There was no way she would ever want the pathetic shit I only had to offer.
Want me.
“Of course not,” I gritted out. “You want to go die out there? Be my guest.”
Every instinct inside me screamed. No harm could ever come to this girl. I didn’t even know her, but I was fiercely protective of her. Pretending not to give a shit stabbed me right between my ribs.
Angry fire burned behind her eyes, and she grabbed the doorknob.
As much as I wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe in my cabin, I liked the way she fought back. She might look like a kitten, but she’d got claws. One more thing about her that turned me on.
My eyes widened at the two pussies standing mute. She wouldn’t listen to me, but she would listen to them. “Do something,” I hissed.
“Keera, I just got a notification. Some of the roads are already closed. Even if you make it, they will send you back,” Kyle finally said. I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth, but I didn’t care.
“Why don’t you just stay here for tonight, and I’ll drive you to school myself in the morning,” Brandon offered, his voice all soft and caring. Shit she would buy. “It’s just too dangerous out there. And you said it yourself, you felt safe that I was here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stand guard at your door all night if that’s what it takes to make you stay.”
He chuckled, and she did, too, her grip leaving the knob. Yeah. Him she listened to. Me, they guy who jumped to save her from her stupid stubbornness while these douchebags stood still? Of course not.
Because I was too fucking rough.
Her tits rose with a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll stay.”
Chapter Seven
Keera
Karma.
She was really a bitch.
I did wish for a blizzard. But on Valentine’s Day to cross those who were celebrating. Not today to have me stranded in a cabin with three strangers, one of them was a total savage, alpha male lunatic.
Even though I hated everything about Zach’s facade, I couldn’t deny the delightful shiver and the wet throb I’d felt when he touched my wrist. It was raw. Completely instinctive. Part of me, obviously, liked the overprotective roughness in him.
If he just smoothed it out a bit, showed a human side to which I could connect, not just the overbearing animal, I might have given him—and myself—a chance.
At least, Brandon was here. He was so gorgeous, and that chicken was so moist and filled with flavors that made my heart melt.
After dinner, I offered to wash the dishes, but the three of them shooed me away from the kitchen. Even Zach. He was the first to grab a sponge.
A man who did the dishes? It was a shame a guy like him was so mean on purpose.
It was a shame that he had to go through that trauma that made him the way he was now. I didn’t know any details, but losing someone dear to your heart wasn’t easy. It changed people and lives.
I waited in the living room, cursing my luck. Shortly, Kyle joined me, his phone glued to his hand.
I grimaced. “Where are you sleeping?”
“Here. It’s a sofa bed where you’re sitting.”
“I can sleep here.” It was so comfortable and soft.
He chuckled at me, giving me a look as if I was crazy.
I sighed, hating this. Everything about this night. “Is there any news about the storm?”
“Nothing new.”
“Okay,” I sighed again. “Where is the wedding?”
“Portland.”
I nodded. “Are you going anywhere on the Valentine’s? It’s a day before the wedding, so it’s probably—”
“Bad luck? Yeah. We’ll skip it this year. We’re celebrating it a day after anyway. The wedding is even at the same hotel she loves to spend the Valentine’s.”
A smile forced itself upon my lips. He seemed so much in love. It was beautiful and happy. I wanted a guy who looked that happy when someone was talking to him about me. I wanted a wedding at the same place where I loved to spend my celebrations. I wanted love. I wanted for once to be envied for having such a beautiful relationship, not the other way around. I was so tired of being jealous.
He scooted closer to me and held out his phone. “Here. This is my bride, Jess.”
She was gorgeous. Model gorgeous. Tall, skinny, blonde, perfect smile, flawless skin generous breasts. She was wearing a bikini and summer hat as she posed playfully with a drink in her hand on a deck of a yacht. “Wow. You’re so lucky.”
He leaned back, his grin huge. “I am.” His gaze lifted off the screen and met mine. “I know you’re not going to the wedding with Zach, but you should totally come. It will be fun. Booze, dancing, cake.”
I chuckled. Thanks, but no thanks. “I’ll consider it. Thank you.” My eyes drifted toward the pool table on the right. “Do you play?”
“Yeah. You want?”
“Sure.” I welcomed the distraction. Anything to pass this night.
“Let me get some drinks first.” He sprang and hit the little cabinet under a tiny bar by the pool table. Then he poured some whiskey for himself. “What do you like?”
I got up from my seat and walked over to where he stood. “Uh…I don’t really drink.”
He racked the balls. “You don’t drink or you don’t want to drink when you’re stuck with three big assholes in the middle of nowhere?”
Grabbing a stick, I smiled. Then I held his gaze so he’d know I wasn’t lying. “I honestly don’t drink, but if I did, I’d definitely pass.”
“It’s a big deal for you, isn’t it? The V-card? I know you’re not scared of any of us, and you totally shouldn’t be. But you’re scared if you get drunk, you’ll lose it out of a mistake.”
I shrugged. “I guess. I don’t want it to be just a whim, and I definitely want to be sober when it happens.”
“One drink won’t get you drunk.”
“To someone who doesn’t drink, it will. Are we shooting some pool or what?”
“Yes, ma’am. Break.”
I leaned over the table in my breaking stance and cracked the stick into the cue ball, pocketing a striped one.
“Huh, I think I’m in trouble!” He chuckled.
I made the next shot, and the next but missed the fourth. It was his turn.
“So you’re a lefty?” he asked while he chalked the tip of his pool stick.
“Uh… ambidextrous.”
“Ambidextrous?” He smiled. “Very interesting.”
“I’m mostly right-handed, but I shoot pool and throw with my left hand.”
“I tried to write with my left hand once when I had my right arm in a sling. It was nothing but scribble. Can you write with your left hand?”
“Yeah, but it feels awkward. I might have been a lefty, though. I was always confused with which scissors to use.”
He smiled at me again. It took me by surprise that, after all these years, he was the first guy who ever noticed that about me. He tried to make a bank shot, but missed. His glass was almost empty, so he walked over to the bar and got himself a refill.
“May I ask how you got your arm in a sling?” I glanced up at him while lining up for my next shot.
He laughed. “Uh…Zach.”
“Of course.”
“He’s always been obsessed with flying. No wonder he turned out to be a pilot. Anyway, he made this plane out of God knew what and convinced me it would fly. So I sit in the tiny cabin, and he pushes it off this very rooftop. Thank God, it was snowing, and it was only my arm that was broken.”
“Oh my God.” I shook my head, imagining the two cousins being adventurous little daredevils. The image of Zach in a pilot uniform and shades tampered with my imagination, too.
He twisted his right arm and pulled up the sleeve to show me the mark on his elbow. “Twenty stitches.” He grinned proudly. “What about you? Got any good scars?”
My life had been simple and boring. Even my scar was boring. “I have one on my right knee.”
“You know you have to show it to me now,” he teased.
I hesitantly pulled up my dress just above the knee to reveal the little scrape of a scar on my kneecap, relieved I had shaved before I got here. “Nothing adventurous. Just a bike accident the day Dad took the training wheels off.”
He brushed his finger over my faint mark. “Ha! That’s barely a scar.”
A shiver ran through me. Quickly, I put my dress back down. “Sorry, it’s all I have.” I took the shot and missed.
“Thanks! Thanks a lot!” he quipped. “You’re killing me here.” He walked around the table looking for an angle as I’d tucked the cue ball behind the eightball. The fingers of his left hand formed into a bridge while he was lining up to take his next shot. He had really long fingers. The muscles on his forearm flexed when he stroked the pool stick in his hand.
From my angle, I took in his long legs and how the back pockets of his jeans curved on his shape. When he leaned over the table, his sweater separated from his body, exposing some tight flesh on his stomach and back. I swallowed, thinking Jess was very lucky, too.
He missed again. I didn’t know if he was a terrible player or just wanted to let me win. I finished my balls. “Eightball in the corner pocket,” I stated as I drew my stick back to make the shot. With one precise movement, I tapped the cue ball and pocketed the eight.
“Good job!” Kyle held his hand up and gave me a gentle high-five hand slap. I put my pool stick back on the wall when he interrupted me. “Oh, no. You have to play again.” He handed the pool stick back to me. “I’m just warming up.”
“Okay, one more,” I agreed. “You can break this time.”
When it was my turn again, I noticed that he stood right behind the pocket that I was aiming for. I was lining up for my shot, but it was difficult as he was shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot.
I chuckled. “Can you move?”
“What? Am I bothering you?”
“Yes, it’s kind of annoying actually.” I lined back up for my shot, concentrating on the game. He moved a few feet away and twirled his pool stick back and forth. It was such a distraction that I missed an easy shot.
“Oh, good try,” he taunted.
Now, he was making a long shot, so I stood behind the pocket he was aiming for. I got into a comfortable stance, casually fixing my dress around the chest, and sucked a long breath in.
His eyes toggled between the ball and me, and he missed his shot.
“Oh, good try,” I retorted.
“I see.” He laughed. “You don’t play fair either.”
“Only because you started it. Don’t put that on me.” I set the stick on the table edge and rounded the corner.
“C’mon. I was messing with you. You gotta finish the game.”
“Sure. But I need to use the ladies’ room.”
He showed me the way as I warned him
I knew where every ball was. When I returned the three guys were towering over the pool table.
“Do you mind if we play, too?” Brandon asked.
“Why would she? She’s kicking my ass. I don’t think she minds kicking yours too,” Kyle said. “She doesn’t play fair, though.”
I grabbed my stick. “Seriously?”
“I don’t buy it. It’s you who don’t.” Brandon chalked his.
Zach just stood there with his big eyes digging holes in me. Then he held a stick, looking as if he was going to kill someone with it.
I beat Kyle. No surprise here. Brandon was next. He wrinkled his nose at me and made a face that was kind of adorable when I only had one ball left to pocket before the eight.
I leaned down to make my next shot, and he stood directly behind the pocket. He lifted the front of his sweater enough to fake a scratch and for me to see his whole six abs and the hair on his stomach.
“You’re worse than your cousin.” One naughty little thought of my feeling up those muscles ran through my head, but despite that I made the shot anyway. “Nice try. But Kyle’s twirling of the pool stick was more of a distraction than…whatever that was.”
I had to walk past Brandon, but he stuck the bottom of his pool stick between my feet, causing me to trip. He caught me with his free arm to keep me from falling.
“Jerk,” I snickered.
“Sorry, I can’t help it if you’re falling for me,” he said playfully.
“Pfft. You need to take off the whole thing. Maybe then.”
Suddenly, Zach was taking his suit jacket and shirt off and tossing them aside.
“Oh my God.” I sheltered my eyes with my hand, practically burying my face into Brandon’s Chest. “What is he doing? Could you tell him to put his clothes back on?”
“Zach.” Brandon chest rose with a sigh. God he felt so warm. And hard. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting out of this monkey suit you shoved me in. You know I wander around naked. She’s lucky I still have my pants on,” Zach said.
I left Brandon’s space, instantly mourning the loss of his warmth, and leaned my pool stick on the wall. “Well, if you don’t put a shirt on, I won’t play.”