by Reece Butler
“Is she advertising more than she’s got on top?”
“If you’re asking if she wore a padded bra when she met us, the answer is yes. But she took it off before she got in the water. Her top stuck to her skin like paint.”
“Her shirt was as wet as your boxers?” asked Riley, though he knew the answer.
Travis nodded, slowly and deliberately, baiting him. “She’s got a nice handful. Nipples are big, like cherry Jujubes.”
Riley’s jeans shrunk a few sizes, making him wince. He had a thing for big nipples, and Travis knew it. He liked to take them in his mouth and flick them with his tongue. Or press them against the roof of his mouth. Even better was catching one between his teeth and gently sucking…
“Shit.” He looked at his duffle. He had a pair of loose shorts in there. He unzipped his jeans even more carefully than he’d done them up. Travis snickered, so he glared. “Don’t you say a damn word! I’ve gone without as long as you. Just talking about it makes me hard. Doesn’t matter a damn who the woman is.”
“Whatever you say, bro.” Travis slapped Riley’s shoulder as he passed. “But you owe Jane an apology. I bet she won’t let you eat before she gets it.” He put his hand on the doorknob. “Mom’s Swear Jar is going on the counter. If Jane stays around, you are going to be buying most of Mom’s cruise money with that mouth of yours.”
“It doesn’t count when we’re not home!”
“This is home for the next few months.”
“I can’t keep a lid on my mouth every damn minute!”
Travis narrowed his eyes. “If there’s any possibility of Jane hearing it, every syllable’s a buck, and the biggies are a fiver.” He pulled the door open and stopped. He inhaled, and smiled toward the kitchen. “Now that’s what a man wants to see first thing in the morning,” he said, loud enough for Jane to hear. “His woman barefoot, damn near naked, and working in the kitchen making her man a good breakfast.”
“Oh, hushpuppies! I told you, I’m not your woman!”
“Uh-huh,” Trav replied, all calm and reasonable. “That’s what you said, all right.” Travis pulled the door shut behind him, cutting off Jane’s answering snarl.
Hushpuppies was a swear word? Oh, hell no!
Riley stared at the door and muttered the worst swear words he could think of. If he had to pay for them, he’d have to get creative. Mom wanted that cruise real bad, but he needed his running-around money to buy fruity drinks with umbrellas for women wanting to see if Montana cowboys were better than Texans.
They were, hands down, especially ones from Climax. It was his personal mission to turn as many Texas hotties as possible onto the dark side. Dark, meaning Montana’s cold winters. Riding home in a snowstorm got a man eager to snuggle with a hot woman. There was a reason lots of babies were born in the fall, nine months after the long, cold, dark winters. Another surge happened in March, since the heat of May and June brought out the friskiness in all mammals.
Frisky? Hell, he was way beyond that.
He’d thought Jane had a nice ass last night. Seeing her in that nightgown had proven it. A woman’s ass was the first thing he noticed about her when she was facing away. That, and her hair. He liked to have it long enough to grab a handful at her neck, yanking her head back while he entered her from behind. Or use a fistful to guide her mouth on his cock.
Oh, shit, he was in for it now.
If he was this hard, pre-cum leaking just thinking about her, how the hell was he going to stand living in the same condo? What was it about the woman that brought out the caveman in him? He wanted to rescue her from the saber-toothed tiger so he could haul her back to his cave and make her prove how grateful she was. Again and again, every which way a man could satisfy a horny woman.
He cursed, shucked his clothes, and put on loose fleece shorts that came almost to his knees.
“Show me your bruises,” demanded Travis.
“I am not going to show you my bare bottom!”
She whirled around, moving so fast that her floaty nightgown rose up and Riley got a good view of her …
What the hell?
Jane had dark bruises on her butt. Her lovely peach of an ass must be sore as hell.
“Jane,” said Travis sternly, “I asked you a question and I expect an honest answer.”
Riley finally understood why a man would want his woman to shiver and bite her lip when he gave her an order. Jane doing it damn near had him groaning. The way she looked over her shoulder, eyes on Travis as she pouted, made him want to put her over his lap and spank her.
“I’m fine.”
Travis walked close behind her, without touching. Riley admired his control.
“Remember what I said last night about lying?”
Jane, instead of caving in like the rest of the women he’d seen Trav use that voice on, elbowed him in the gut. By the way his eyes bugged out, he wasn’t prepared. He backed up, rubbing where she’d got him.
Atta girl, Janey!
Riley leaned a shoulder against the wall to watch the fun. He liked her more already. A horndog-worthy body, a pout that demanded punishment, and a backbone to get her through her vanilla day.
“I said I was fine!” She grabbed a spatula and waved it at Travis. “That’s all the answer you need. Now get out of the way so I can cook.”
Travis chuckled and reached for her. Riley backpedalled into the bedroom. He heard a smack, as if a spatula had landed on Trav’s outstretched hand, before he shut the door. Thank God he’d put on shorts rather than jeans as his cock was harder than the doorknob.
Jane sounded nothing like the woman who’d come onto them last night. The nasal upper-crust accent that had twisted his guts, was gone. Without the clothes, makeup, and all, Jane looked…damn good.
He groaned. His cock, like his mouth, had a mind of its own. He’d get mad, or horny, and it was like a switch got flicked. Cock up meant brain off.
They had only a few months to renovate both condos. They couldn’t work efficiently if they fought because he was pissed off at Jane. And if he wanted even a slim chance of sharing her bed, he had a few bridges to mend. He slumped on the mattress.
Jane had just proved she could cook and clean. She had a hot body and didn’t back down from a fight. She’d held herself together when most women, and a lot of men, would have panicked. She was sexy as hell and seemed to be pleasant to be around, when he wasn’t acting like a jerk. She had a prime ass, boobs he’d like to check out further, and those legs! In heels she’d be tall enough that he could press her against the wall, spread her wide, and drive straight home.
His cock surged in response. Shut up, Rye. Focus!
If he played his cards right, maybe they could share more than work. Once they completed the one-bedroom condo upstairs they’d be moving up there, and renovating this one. That meant there’d be only one, king-size bed for the three of them to share. If he made nice with Jane. Otherwise he might be sleeping on a blow-up mattress on the living room floor. Alone. Even Buster would abandon him for the comfort of a bed.
Would it be that difficult to grovel? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something stupid and had to make up for it.
“Shit. Before I can have cinnamon buns for breakfast, I’ve gotta eat crow.”
A simple apology wouldn’t do. Not only had he been too much of an asshole to her, he liked to do things with a flourish. That meant the easy way was out. So he’d cowboy up and take his punishment head-on. He opened the door, tucked in his chin, and walked into domesticity.
Travis sat on a stool stuffing his face while Jane washed dishes. She did them by hand, smiling! His little brother, between bites of the best-looking omelet Riley’d seen in a while, grinned and joked, making Jane blush.
“Jane, I’ve got something to say to you,” said Riley, interrupting them.
“I don’t want to hear it,” she replied crisply without looking up.
Shit. This might to be harder than he thought. He needed a gran
d gesture. That meant he had to crawl.
Double shit. He’d sworn he’d never go on his knees for a woman again. He looked at the floor. Sand and grit covered the ceramic tile. He should have left his jeans on. But sore knees from wearing shorts were better than a strained cock in tight pants. He sighed heavily, and went down. His boner made his shorts point at her.
Shit, shit, shit. He should have brought his hat to cover it. Too late.
“Ma’am?” he said, speaking like he did to Mom when he’d screwed up. “I wish to apologize for my behavior yesterday.”
“Tell it to the Marines.” After snarling at him she smiled and blinked her eyelashes at Travis. “Another cinnamon bun?” Her voice was all twinkly for his baby brother.
Where did she get those old-fashioned expressions?
“What can I do to convince you I’m sorry?” he asked.
“Oh, go jump in the lake.”
“Done!” He got to his feet, brushing the crap off his knees. “Closest thing to a lake is the ocean. I’ll just go do that, ma’am. How long do I have to stay in?”
She finally looked at him. Her eyes flicked down, focused, then lifted up. Her cheeks turned pink, then her ears. She cleared her throat before looking at his brother.
“Don’t look at me,” said Travis, holding up his palms and acting oh, so innocent. “That’s between the two of you. And yes, I will have another cinnamon bun. I’ll take it with me while we watch Riley float in the ocean for a while.” He nodded at Jane. “Better dress warm. The temperature’s dropped and there’s a cold wind.” He turned to Riley. “You’re used to Montana weather. Should be a snap for you to spend fifteen, twenty minutes in the waves.”
“Thirty,” said Jane.
She turned, head high, and almost pranced into the back room. He’d checked it out quickly last night. A queen-size bed, bathroom, and closet. Nothing fancy. Not yet.
“Better grab a coffee and bun now, while Jane’s dressing,” said Travis. He stood up, finished his coffee, and set his mug down. “Good thing I brought my coat, hat, and mitts.”
“Shut it,” said Riley, used to practical jokes. “It can’t have got that cold overnight.”
“North wind in Texas changes things fast,” said Travis with far too much satisfaction. “There’s a thermometer on the patio. It says fifty degrees, but hey, maybe it’s broken.” He gave Riley a wolfish grin. “This is gonna be fun. I’d better bring my camera. Mom says you look good in blue. I’ll send her a picture of you as a Smurf.” He laughed. “Smurf in the surf.”
Shit, shit, shit, shit!
Chapter 10
Jane strolled along the beach behind Travis. The two men had spoken for a minute before Riley rushed home with Buster. She’d made him wait just long enough to make sure he was sincere.
“Want to go back?” asked Travis, turning to her.
“I’d like to find some shells,” she replied. “I’ve never walked a beach before.”
“Neither have I.”
“It feels good to be outside, breathing fresh air. I feel so free here.” She held her arms out, tilted her face to the sun and inhaled. While Riley swam along the shore Travis had spoken of her determination to break free, her strength to stand up for herself, her wit, and more. Things that no one spoke about. Things that were the exact opposite of the woman her father wanted her to be. Yet Travis thought she was wonderful because of it.
They had no idea who she was, and therefore could not be influenced by her father’s power and money. Whatever they thought of her, it was in relation to plain Jane. Yes, they might want her just because she was female, but it seemed to be more than that. She’d never met men like them. Travis was kind and considerate but when he got that look, he was thrillingly dominant. Not domineering. She knew the difference very well.
While Travis was calm and controlled, Riley was a yo-yo. No, more of a roller coaster. A yo-yo had one path, traveling up and down. Roller coasters went forward, twisting as they moved. You never knew what would happen. Riley could do anything, at any time, without warning.
And why did that cause a spasm between her thighs?
“Tell me when you’re ready to go home,” said Travis.
Home.
She blinked into the wind. All her life, she’d wanted a home, one filled with peace and affection. She wasn’t sure she was capable of love. How could she be, when she’d never known it? The only thing her father cared about, other than his own comfort, was building an empire, preferably by destroying what someone else had created.
Jane watched the waves roll in, an endless cycle. Her steps left a mark, one that was soon erased, gone as if it had never been there. Only if she had a child could she remain, as a memory. She wouldn’t do that without the support of a loving family, or at least a husband. A good one, who both protected his family, and provided well for them.
Travis and Riley spoke of their family with affection and pride. What was most important to her was that they cared about each other. Riley had complained about the cold, shuffling slowly forward in the water. Travis, grinning like a little boy, had stepped behind and shoved him into the surf. She’d laughed out loud at Riley’s astonished expression when he surfaced. Even now, it made her smile. These men had no idea how wonderful it was to play, or show emotion and not be harshly judged. She inhaled the fresh, salty air along with her freedom, letting her eyes drift. The curve of something bone white caught her attention.
“Oh, look,” she said, pointing. “A sand dollar!”
“Let me get it for you.”
Travis bent, gently brushed off the sand, and held it out to her on his palm. Perfect, priceless, it looked hand carved, like an amulet barely an inch across. Small holes, as if a dull pencil had cut short, straight lines, edged it. A lovely five-petal flower filled the center. Each petal had fringes around the edges. She leaned even closer and a faint honeycomb pattern came to light. She admired it for a moment, hands warm in the pockets of her huge borrowed coat.
“Thank you,” she said, straightening up. “I will treasure it.”
Travis held it closer. “Don’t you want it?”
She was tempted, but shook her head. “Things get broken. I’ll keep the memory, instead.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Someone else will enjoy it if we leave it here.”
His look weighed and measured her, then he silently put it back, even sifting sand over one corner so it looked as if it hadn’t been disturbed. Still silent, he put his arm through hers and guided her around to face out of the wind. They started back, strolling at a contented speed. Neither spoke. He tried to act nonchalant, but she picked up a small vibe of tension. Did he read anything into what she’d said about not wanting a souvenir? He didn’t speak, and neither did she until a flock of pelicans flew over, looping up and down in an undulating line.
“From the front and back they look like Klingon warbirds on Star Trek,” he said.
She’d been allowed to have copies of the entire original series, since it was so out of date. The stories, as well as the cultures, clothing, and gadgets, had fascinated her.
“Are you a closet trekkie?”
Instead of laughing at her joke, his expression went serious. Thinking she’d said something wrong, she took her hands out of her pockets and stepped back.
“Jane,” he said, his deep voice slowly rumbling, “I’ve got nothing in my closet but my clothes and boots.” He held his arms out. “Nothing to hide. No skeletons.”
“Everyone hides something.”
She kept her tone light, but his eyes went from wide open to a half-lidded sensuality that shot to her core. She licked her lips nervously, tasting salt from the onshore breeze. He slowly shook his head, denying it.
“You want to know anything about me, just ask. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, even my fantasies. Even better, I’ll show you.”
It was both a promise, and a threat. The obvious desire in his voice, on his face, and in his body posture, provoked the same resp
onse in herself. His coat was unbuttoned. She tried not to drop her eyes, but she had no control around him. His chest expanded rapidly, widening the space between the edges of his coat. And that revealed a very impressive bulge.
Though obscured by his jeans, she could tell he not only wanted her, he would fill her totally. A flash of something attacking made her duck, hands over her head to protect herself. Nothing happened other than her heart thundering in her chest. She cautiously peeked. A great blue heron soared over her.
She stood, shoulders heaving as her heart returned to normal. The large bird landed in a jumble of stick-thin legs, jutting beak, and narrow wings. Once settled it looked them over. It dismissed them as unimportant, shook itself out, and stared into the water.
She exhaled, forcing a laugh. She’d been put in her place by one far better suited to the beach. The heron was alone, hunting to survive. She had a temporary home filled with food, warmth, a comfortable bed, and the company of a loving dog and intriguing men. She would not let her past haunt her. It was gone, and today was glorious.
“I like it here,” she said. She turned away from the bird and began walking once more. She stopped when she realized Travis hadn’t moved. She turned to him. His dark eyes were hard, giving nothing away. Yet those two fingers twitched at his side. “Something wrong?”
“Not only did your father abuse you, he destroyed anything you cared about.”
All the air went out of her lungs in a whoosh as her bright day crashed into gray. She wavered, dizzy. His arms wrapped around her.
“Breathe, Jane.”
She inhaled at his order. The dizziness passed but she did not pull away. His caring was like a drug, one she’d just discovered and craved even though she knew she must soon wean herself from it. He said nothing more, but then he’d said it all. Knowing someone knew, and understood, had ripped away a corner of the barrier she’d erected to protect herself. She dropped her forehead on Travis’s broad chest, unable to look at him. She couldn’t take his pity. Not when she’d been feeling so strong and brave.