by Nana Malone
His father’s booming laugh filled the kitchen. “I’m just saying. She’s a nice girl, and you’ve been so focused on saving me and my company that you haven’t allowed for much fun in your life. I feel like I’ve stolen half your twenties from you. And Serena hasn’t had an easy go of it. Maybe the two of you could go at it together.”
Go at— Tyson coughed so hard beer came sputtering out of his nose. “Dad!”
The old man merely winked at him. “Damn, I meant make a go of it. That’s what I meant.”
“Not gonna happen. Dad, not with Serena. Besides, I’m too young to settle down, and I have shit I need to do.”
“No one is saying you have to get married, but I think there’s a good, beautiful woman in front of you. Maybe it’s time you weren’t so focused on work and goals.”
Ty just started to get his life back on track. He had to make something of himself for himself, on his own, before he could think about Serena…or anyone for that matter. Besides, she had her list, and he flunked on two key points. He was X’s best friend. And she wanted a nice guy. He was not the nice-guy type. Especially not after what he’d wanted to do to her last night. Serena was the kind of girl who made love. Not the kind of girl who screwed against doors. “Yeah, I hear you, Dad. But still, never gonna happen.” He had to see her tonight before his flight. As long as he could remember not to kiss her again, he’d be fine.
Serena shifted in her shoes. At this point, with two minutes before their dance class, she wasn’t sure Tyson was going to show up. Micha wasn’t all that fussed about the group dance for the wedding. The dance had been her friend Jaya’s idea. Jaya thought it was a good group bonding memory that Micha and Caleb could hold onto. Apparently they’d done something similar for Ricca’s wedding as well. And man Jaya was assertive. Awesome but determined like a pit bull. She’d send sweet reminders about how important the dance was and how Micha needed the best.
When Tyson came around the corner in his T-shirt and jeans, her heart fluttered and she breathed a sigh of relief and tried to keep her hormones under control. With his catlike swagger and grace, tattoos on display and day-old scruff on his jaw, he looked like a total badass. A hot one at that. As he walked, several stared. Yeah, I hear you, ladies.
His smile was tight. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
He gave her a one-armed hug and a kiss on her cheek, this time near her ear, but then backed away quickly. Oh, so they were going to pretend that last night hadn’t happened? Right. Okay then.
“You’re fine. Right on time.” She stalked ahead of him. How could he act normally? She’d expected that maybe he’d want to talk about it or something. They were friends. What happened should at least warrant an acknowledgment to the cray cray that had taken place. But if he could ignore the hot make-out session, then so could she. Though, as she walked, she could have sworn she heard a low rumble in his throat. Maybe she was imagining it.
They walked into class together like they had every Thursday for the last two months, but today he avoided touching her as much as usual. Kind of hard, since they were doing a tango. Even the teacher, Darla, noticed as she came over to correct them. “You have to make love to her, Tyson.” She rolled her r’s in the heavily accented English. “Remember, tango was a forbidden dance in Argentina for years. It has to be full of passion.”
Serena’s gaze snapped to his, and Tyson’s eyes sparked fire, but his lips set in a firm line. All Serena could feel in his body was vibrating tension. Micha had said to just be herself, but she had to say something to him. They had to talk about it, or there was no way in hell she’d ever sleep again.
They made it through the end of class, and as she grabbed her bag, she said, “Hey, so listen, I thought maybe—”
His jaw clamped tight, and he interrupted her with a brusque shake of his head. “Sorry, I can’t talk or hang tonight. Busy.” He slid his eyes away.
“Right. Of course. I just, you know...” Her phone rang. “Sorry. Gimme a sec.” She scooted to the side and turned her back to Tyson. “Hello?”
“Serena, hi. It’s Antonio Russo.” She stood up straighter. Antonio worked for Marco Savoy, the youngest son of House of Savoy. She still couldn't believe the prince had heard of their club and wanted to be a member. Of course members of royalty didn’t handle such things themselves, so he sent Antonio as his envoy. And what a beautiful envoy. She could talk to him all day, every day, his accent had such a hypnotic quality. But she really needed to deal with the Tyson thing right now.
“Antonio, hi. Thanks for calling. I wanted to go over the paperwork you need. Could you meet me at the club between two and four tomorrow? I've got an opening then.” Royal prince or not, she didn't mess about when it came to club procedures. There were extensive background checks and protocols to be followed. All made more difficult by the fact that the Prince wasn’t doing the application himself.
“Oh, I'm sorry, my day is packed. Do you think you could do dinner instead? I know how important it is to you to get some movement.”
She slid her gaze to Tyson, who was staring at her. Heat suffused her cheeks. “Dinner would be fine if you want to pick me up at the club.”
“That will work. Thank you for being so accommodating.”
“Of course.” She hung up and turned to face Tyson.
“Sorry about that. Work thing. But I figured maybe we could or rather should talk.”
Tyson shrugged his broad shoulders, and his jaw ticked. “Can’t. Gotta go. I have a flight tonight. But maybe later.”
She could only watch helplessly as he all but ran away from her. Well hell. Maybe she was right and last night had ruined everything.
7
Ty was tired as hell. Everything was so freaking upside down right now. All because he now knew what Serena Bennett tasted like. The whole flight to New Orleans he'd been plagued with the mental replay of the last two days.
He'd gone over their kiss so many times but he still couldn't pinpoint exactly what had happened. All he knew was one second he was kissing her good night as usual, and the next he was trying to consume every last bit of her essence. She had tasted like the peppermint and vanilla he'd used in his dessert, laced with a hint of something soul infusing and drugging.
His hands still twitched with the urge to hold her, touch her, see if the two of them could both deliver on the promise of pleasure. He'd dreamed about her for so long. And now that it had happened he knew it couldn't happen again. Which was the fucked-up thing of it all. It was one thing to dream about touching her, it was another thing to actually touch her. He understood the best friend code. Thou does not fuck thy best friend's sister. That was a hard-and-fast rule. She also didn't deserve someone with his rough edges. She wanted refined. Nice. Steady. Emotionally available.
To make everything worse, he'd screwed up yesterday. She'd tried to talk to him and he'd run. Like a coward. He preferred to think he'd saved her from another mauling. Dancing with her had been pure damn torture. And by the end, he'd been willing to scream uncle.
He'd wanted to say sorry or something. But somehow, Hey I'm sorry about grabbing your ass and grinding my cock on you, might not cut it. Maybe he could add, And that thing where I palmed your perfect tits and squeezed them while desperately wanting to suck on your nipple, that was a total accident. He shook his head. He was screwed.
Yeah, it had been so much of an accident, that he'd jerked off to that particular memory every chance he got. His cock and his hand were on very good terms at this point. It hadn't helped him sleep one wink.
Saying all of that might not go over so well. She was important enough to him that he had to apologize. He just needed to find the right words first.
If he'd talked to her yesterday, he would've begged to go to her place. And then he would have begged her to let him live out every fantasy he'd ever had, just once. Serena had that kind body, that kind of smile. Hell. He shifted his jeans to make room for his thickening cock. He really needed to get a handle on his sh
it. He couldn't talk to X while fantasizing about his sister.
He shoved all thoughts of her to the recesses of his mind and dragged his attention back to his meeting as Xavier's secretary led him down the marble-tiled hallway. X was waiting on the other side of the door with a wide smile and open arms.
"Ty! My man. What the fuck is up, dude?" He enveloped him in the standard bro hug complete with the thumping of the back.
Tyson couldn't help but grin. This was Xavier. Always warm, always happy. Most of the time his mood was infectious. There was no way anyone could be in a bad mood when they were around X. Unless of course they had X's sister on the brain. Focus, Ty.
"I'm great, man. It's good to see you. The Big Easy's treating you right."
X stood back and spread his arms. "You like?" He led Ty over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the French Quarter. "I love this place, man. The food is to die for. Business is good. And the women, God, the women. Please tell me you're staying through the weekend. I have a couple of meetings today, but I can escape this afternoon, and we can tear up the town."
Tyson took a seat across from his best friend of the last twenty years. The office was a hundred percent Xavier. His friend had always liked the finer things. Back when they shared a tiny dorm room with just the basics, Xavier had found ways to make things more comfortable.
Some fancy chair here. A toothbrush holder there. A rug. Frames for their requisite Che Guevara posters. His taste may have matured, but X still enjoyed the good life. The furniture in his office had clean lines and a contemporary feel. Steel and wood everywhere, with a white marble floor. The color came from the walls and the cushions and throws. He had several Xander Chase and Z Con photos on the wall. Ty knew those things weren’t cheap. All combined, the office had a cheery feeling.
Of course his friend was dressed impeccably in a vest, cuff links and leather loafers, hair gelled into a messy array that probably drove women crazy. Yeah, that was X. Man, Ty had missed the fucker.
"I wish I could, man, but classes start Monday. I don't want to take my first class too hungover to concentrate. This is just a day trip."
Xavier groaned and slouched into his chair. "Somehow I remember you being more fun than this."
Tyson laughed. "I'm fun, I'm just also responsible now. I hope. I think after Micha's wedding I've got a midterm break, so I can come down then. We'll get up to some trouble."
X groaned again. "Man, I love Micha, but this whole plus-one situation is killing me. I mean, why would I bring someone to a city with hot women?"
"I have no idea." That was the other thing about X. His friend never could seem to keep it in his pants.
"Are you bringing anyone?"
"Nah. Since Serena and I are both single we figured we could hang out with you the whole time. Plus I've been paired with her for that first-dance thing." He left out the part that technically Serena was his date.
"Good plan. Then we can be lone wolves together. We'll stick Serena with one of Micha's bridesmaids who'll keep her from getting in too much trouble, then we'll head out on the town."
"You don't think your sister will have something to say about that?"
Xavier rolled his eyes. "You know my sister, she'd rather be in a corner with a book anyway. Not exactly one for taking risks or living it up."
Oh he knew Serena all right, but Wednesday, there hadn't been a book in sight. He made it a point to drag the conversation away from the woman occupying most of his brain space. "Listen, I know you're busy, so let's get down to it, and then we can pick up dinner tonight maybe?"
"Sounds good. What can I do for you?"
Tyson smiled. He'd dreamed of this day for nearly three years, since X had loaned him the money. "It's what I can do for you." After reaching into his pocket, Tyson pulled out the envelope and slid it over to X.
His friend frowned at the envelope. "What's this?"
"Open it, would you?"
His friend pursed his lips and slid the flap of the folded paper open, then pulled out the check. He whistled low before glancing back at Tyson. "Dude, what is this?"
"I'm paying you back."
Xavier shook his head. "No, you're not. The only reason I agreed to a loan was because you insisted. Shit, I owed you my life. You kept me out of jail on more than one occasion. And that thing with Missy Carpenter, hell, you saved me years of misery. I never expected you to pay me back."
He pushed the money back at Ty. Tyson shook his head. He'd known X would refuse the payment. "I'm afraid I'm going to insist, X. We agreed on a loan. So I'm paying you back with standard interest."
"This is ridiculous. You're paying me too much. And you're about three years ahead of schedule. Use the money to expand or something."
"Look, X, I knew you would say that. But it's important I do this. You bailed me out when shit was rough, and I didn't want to take it. But I had no choice. I know you don't even think about it. But I do. Every day. It's important to me that I'm able to do this and say thank you. I owe you one."
His friend blinked rapidly and slid his gaze away. Taking the check, he shoved it into a drawer, and Tyson smiled. Maybe X was getting emotional at his ripe age of twenty-six. But his friend was shrewd. Eventually it would hit him that Ty had given him a cashier's check. Ty had done that on purpose so X wouldn’t be tempted to not cash it in the hopes his friend would keep the money. The check was as good as cash so he’d take it whether he liked it or not.
Xavier cleared his throat. "I was happy to do it. You've always been like a brother to me and Serena."
Yeah...brother. "Still am. How about you get busy talking rich widows into investing in property, and I'll see you for dinner?"
"Sounds like a plan. I have the perfect spot."
Several hours later, Tyson took a swig of his beer and smiled at the pretty waitress who winked at him. X wasn't kidding about the women in this town. If his mind and his cock weren't completely preoccupied with someone else, Ty'd be all over it. "I love this place."
X laughed and shoved another crawfish into his mouth. "I come here at least once every couple of weeks. They even save a table for me."
Tyson laughed. "You're lucky they let you come back after you and Serena nearly cleaned them out of their gumbo pot the last time we were all here." The twins could eat.
"How is my sister anyway?"
Tyson bought himself some time with another sip of beer. "Ah, you know Serena, she's good. Work or at home. That's about it, unless I drag her out. I think she started dancing again though. She mentioned something about that."
X nodded. "Yeah, that's good. As long as she's not on the pole like the rest of the girls she works with."
As helpful as his brain was, it offered him an image of Serena swinging around a pole, dark hair flying around her like silk—instant erection. Damn. He shifted in his seat. "No. Though I'm always amazed at how you can be so cool with her working there. I remember how insane you were about protecting her at that other place."
X shrugged. "I still am, but I met her partners when they opened Club Prestige. Shit, I even invested. As far as I'm concerned she’s part owner of a nightclub. She's a good kid, and I know she's not going to do anything stupid. Besides, you know her. She's relentless. Driven and smart, but no amount of screaming and yelling is going to get her to do what I want. So it was either accept it and have you keep an eye on her, or hogtie her and make her move in with me."
"Something tells me she’d have none of it.”
X chuckled. “Serena and I have a tacit rule; she doesn't feed Mom and Dad info on my love life, and I don't tell them the real deal of her club. It works."
"Right." Their parents had always been hard on her.
His friend drained his beer and frowned. "So, I don't worry. Unless you're telling me there's something to be worried about? Is some douchebag sniffing around my baby sister?"
Yeah, this douchebag. But to be fair, Serena had been all over him too. Though he'd keep that to himself. Note t
o self, also don't mention how well her ass fits in your hands or that sexy little sound she makes when you rub her just right.
Shit. He was an asshole. "Nope. I'll make sure she's good. But maybe it's time for her to start seeing someone. It's been a few years. She seems lonely, that's all."
"What, you want to fix her up? Something tells me she wouldn't enjoy you interfering in her love life. Besides, it's not like either one of us knows anyone respectable. We know guys like us who've slept with too many women. Besides, she needs someone nice, refined. Educated. Not like us bums."
While that last statement chafed, X was right. Serena deserved the best, and Ty knew he wasn't it. But you want to be. He cleared his throat. "Speak for yourself. I'll be getting my piece of paper soon enough."
"I honestly don't see why you need a diploma. If you can pay me back like you did, you're making more than enough money. You didn't need a degree for that."
Except that he'd always wanted one. He'd been robbed of the experience. He wanted it. He wanted it all. He also wanted to make the old man proud. When his father fell ill, he'd been sad that his illness meant Ty couldn't finish school. He had to do it for the both of them. "I know. But I got my reasons."
X nodded and winked. "I get you. Women. You want a better class of women. There's something to be said for sexy coeds."
Tyson could only laugh, because X might not ever understand. "Yeah, that's it."
"So what's up with you anyway? Any girls on the horizon? You haven't mentioned anyone since…what was her name, Marcie, Misty, Missy? Something like that."
"You mean Marissa?" She'd been a sweet girl, but she'd wanted to take things to the next level—whatever the hell that meant—and he'd wanted to go back to school, and his focus had been on the business. That and she'd been jealous as hell about his relationship with Serena.
"I knew it was something like that. What happened to her?"
"Long gone."
"Bummer. No one else? I mean, you used to clean up in high school and college."