Risk (Gentry Boys #2)

by Cora Brent

  “You want anything?”

  “A bottle of water would be nice.”

  As I walked to the door I thought about the dead coyote I’d seen on the road a few days ago. It made the boner fade enough so I could walk without looking like an asshole. I looked back and saw Truly staring at me. She waved. As I entered the store I tried to think of a way to tell her how happy I was that she was giving this another chance.

  “Hey, babe? Thanks for agreeing to fuck me again.”

  On second thought, she might not appreciate hearing something like that.

  I was standing in line when I remembered Truly’s water so I had to go hunt it down. While I looked around in the refrigerated section a sour-faced hag glared with disgust at the box I was carrying. I didn’t especially care.

  As I was paying at the register I had the sudden unreasonable fear that Truly wouldn’t be in the truck when I got outside. But she was right there and she was watching for me. When her face broke into a smile I felt a strange rush of pride. This chick wasn’t like my usual options. Yeah, she was gorgeous and hotter than pure hell but there was something else about her that made me think I was damn lucky she was letting me in.

  I gave Truly her water, tossed the box of condoms on the dash and started the truck.

  Truly unscrewed the bottle and stared at the box. “You’re ambitious.”

  “No. I’m realistic.”

  She snorted. “Bullshit. You think you can fill sixty condoms tonight?”

  I touched her knee, then reached under the hem of her dress as she squirmed.

  “Maybe not,” I admitted. “We could be looking at a multi day task.”

  She shook her head and swore, looking away.

  I frowned, figuring I’d come off too cocky. “What’s the matter?”

  Truly stared into her lap, her long black hair hiding her face. “Why the hell can’t I say no to you?”

  I felt better. “Because you don’t want to, Truly.”

  She lifted her head and looked straight at me. “Take me to your bed, Creed. Now.”

  I drove as fast as I legally could. Truly jumped out the door the second I set the parking brake. I followed her. We were all over each other as we started walking. The apartment complex was a sprawling collection of two story buildings. When I backed her against a stucco wall and felt her hands tugging at my pants I thought that was it; there was no way I could live another goddamn minute until I’d shoved myself inside her. But then a nearby porch light blasted us in the face and Truly backed off.

  Seconds later we were at my place. My arm was around her as I fumbled with the key in the door. She was kissing my neck and pressing her body against mine.

  “Creedence,” she said, a little out of breath.

  “I know baby, we’re almost there.”

  “I just wanted to say your name. I want you. I want you so much.”

  I pulled her inside and slammed the door behind me. The place was dark, quiet. I hoped it stayed that way for a while. We’d be making some serious noise in a minute and I didn’t want to deal with anyone’s bitching.

  Truly watched me as I yanked my shirt off and threw it in a corner. Her eyes widened as she looked me over and I was proud of all the hours I’d spent bulking up. Then she slowly began pulling her dress down, easing it over her shoulders.

  I reached around her into a dark doorway and turned on the light. I never stopped watching her as the dress came down, her bra came off, and every inch of her soft skin begged to be touched, licked, enjoyed. I was glad I’d let myself build up all night. When I finally got inside her the eruption was bound to crack me in half in the best goddamn way.

  Truly went into the bedroom first, letting her dress fall on the floor. I seized her as I tore open the box of condoms. Tiny colored packages fell out of the box and showered the room as my hands hungrily covered her body. She was in a fever, kissing her way down my chest as she struggled to get me out of my pants. I ripped the snap off and pulled them down to my knees as I swiped a condom off the floor.

  She moaned my name again. “Creedence.”

  Oh, I can make you moan louder. I can make you moan a hell of a lot louder than that.

  “On your knees, baby.”

  She figured I wanted her mouth and she took me eagerly between her soft lips, licking and then sucking me in so hard my wild curses were probably heard for two blocks. I looked down, wild over the sight of Truly sucking me off while wearing nothing but her black panties. I grabbed handfuls of her dark hair, being rough, using her mouth the way I wanted. After a minute of that bliss I couldn’t fucking stand it. I pulled her up and bent her over the bed.

  “Creed,” she gasped, trying to turn around.

  “Hush, honey.” I held her down, my dick already covered in a condom as my hands pushed away the satin barrier of her panties. She arched her back and I grabbed her hips to get a better angle. She let out a cry when I entered her hard and pounded harder. She was getting wetter, hotter, as she grabbed onto the far edge of the mattress to give me better leverage. Several times I pulled out only so I could get to the sweet agony of plunging deep once again. Goddamn, this was fucking at its finest.

  Truly convulsed underneath me and I kept it up hard. She pushed her hair out of her face and turned her head around to kiss me. I came with my tongue in her mouth and my hands squeezing her tits. It went on for eternity and I nearly forgot who I was. She fell away from me when I finally withdrew.

  “Up here,” I panted, lifting her onto the bed. I got rid of the used condom and folded her into my arms. She was sweaty and breathing hard.

  “Damn,” she whispered, holding a hand to her forehead. I leaned on one elbow and stared at her as she laughed to herself with her eyes closed. “That was nice.”

  She was something else. Usually I was restless even during the act, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to keep me from wandering away as soon as I was done. I’d had women of every variety and sometimes I wondered what was wrong inside of me that I didn’t want a thing more from them than a quick use. But it always seemed like my brothers were of the same mind so I chalked it up to twisted Gentry genes.

  Then Saylor McCann showed up in our lives again and Cordero was done. I knew it even before he laid a hand on her. Good for him, I’d thought at the time. He’d beaten the Gentry bullshit and found a nice girl who thought he hung the fucking moon.

  I didn’t realize Truly had opened her eyes to watch me. She started to say something then stopped, choosing instead to reach out and touch the side of my face. Then she leaned in close and kissed me. It wasn’t a rapid fire passionate kiss like it had been earlier. It was slow, lazy. I rolled on top of her. Our lips played, our tongues teased. Her fingers stroked my neck and at one point I backed away a few inches so I could look at her. Her eyes were soft and tender. Then she pulled her knees up on either side of me because she felt me getting hard again. It was slow that time. Then later, it was rough again.

  For the second time in a little over a week I did something I never had the urge to do. I fell asleep with a girl in my arms and woke up happy that she was still there.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Truly

  The first time I spent the night with Creed Gentry I’d never known anything so filthy or so good. And then the next morning I took a long look at him. I remembered everything I’d assumed; that Creedence was a vulgar playboy without a whole lot going on behind those deep blue eyes. The fact that he’d given me the most intense sexual experience I’d ever known seemed beside the point.

  The second night was still filthy. The way we enjoyed each other was incredible in a way I’d only heard about. He couldn’t do enough to me.

  “What’s up with this?” he asked somewhere around the fifth time we’d crashed together in some way. We were lying on his bed, both covered in sweat. Creed was touching the side of my head.

  “Nothing,” I said, pushing my thick black hair over the area I’d shaved in an emotional fit some months earlier.
It was growing back but still showed if I didn’t take care to cover it.

  Creed rested his chin on my chest. He looked very young and very serious.

  I sighed. “I was just having a bad day, that’s all.”

  He nodded as if he knew exactly what I meant. “I get those.”

  I believed that about him. When we’d held hands in the parking lot outside the stadium I started to think that the connection between us might, just might, be more than physical.

  My fingertips traveled lightly over his shoulders, then down his arms. There wasn’t an inch on that man that wasn’t rock solid. He had to be a strong bastard, likely able to take just about anything apart with his bare hands.

  Still, the way he stared at me was almost gentle, patient. Suddenly Creed seemed nothing like the gruff character I’d thought he was. It gave me the courage to keep talking.

  “My mama used to say, ‘A girl comes to bad ends when she doesn’t feel pretty on the inside.’ When I was little we lived for a time in a cottage shack next to an old South Carolina farmhouse. Now that I’m really thinking on it I believe it was actually a relic of plantation days.” I cleared my throat and sat up a little. “Right out back was this gorgeous magnolia tree that was planted by some dead ancestor whose ugly face was painted on a wall in the big house. My sisters and I would sneak out there every chance we got and pluck the waxy blossoms off. You ever smell a magnolia blossom? It’s so close to heaven it’ll hurt your heart. The lady of the house would get all kinds of excited about our grubby little hands touching her sacred tree. She thought we were the devil’s brood anyway, on account of her being a church lady and us having different fathers. Mama came out one day to find us being chased off and she got mad. She took us outside late that summer night with a big barrel she’d scavenged and had us girls pick off every flower we could reach. By the time we were done that thick magnolia smell was in our hair and all over our little bodies. It seemed like that’s the way the world would smell forever. When we got inside, Mama soaked a pile of magnolia petals and told us to drink the water. Those flowers are edible, you know. She said it would make us feel all pretty inside and it was a feeling we ought to remember when days turned sour, as days will sometimes do…” My voice trailed off since Creed had rolled away and was lying on his back with his eyes closed. I pulled the blanket over my bare breasts feeling suddenly, and acutely, naked.

  “Why’d you stop talking?” he asked with a slight frown.

  “I thought you were done listening.”

  Creed opened his eyes. “No. I’m always listening.”

  “Oh, well that’s the end of the story anyway. It’s just that on the day I picked up the razor I forgot what it meant to feel pretty inside.” I touched my hair. “I should cut it all off so it’s one length, let it grow back proper.”

  Creed grunted and then suddenly grabbed me, pulling me on top of him. He grabbed handfuls of my hair and studied me intently.

  “Don’t you dare do that, Truly.” He kissed me, either to smother any objection I might raise or just because he simply wanted to. I felt him pulling on another condom.

  “Get on top of me,” I begged.

  He rolled me over, sliding inside easily. I loved the feel of his weight. It was an odd mix of helplessness and security, being pinned beneath a strong man as he took what he wanted from your body.

  Just as I was reaching my climax I heard voices in the hallway and realized Saylor and Cord had returned home. I buried my face in Creed’s neck to avoid crying out. We came together in gasping fury and I felt like my chest might cave from the sheer weight of him.

  After a few minutes of trying to catch our breath, Creed kissed my cheek, jumped off the bed and went to the door. He opened it a crack and stuck his head out. When he spoke the words were too low for me to hear but the answering voice was male so he must have been talking to Cord.

  He shut the door and turned off the light before returning to bed.

  “How many do you have?” he asked abruptly.

  “How many what?”

  “Sisters.”

  “Three. I’m the oldest. Then there’s Meridian, Augusta and Carolina.”

  “They don’t live around here?”

  “No,” I said quietly. “None of them live anywhere near here. They’ve never been here.”

  Creed was quiet. Once again I thought he’d drifted off. Then his voice reached me, strangely sad. “That must be rough. I couldn’t make it so far away from my brothers.”

  I was nervous when I reached for his hand. Even though we’d already coupled more times than some married folks did in a year, hand holding seemed more intimate in a way. When his fingers threaded through mine, a thrill rolled through my belly.

  “I don’t know my father,” I told him, kissing his knuckles. “I never did.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Might not be the worst thing. Sometimes fathers turn out to be evil sons of bitches.” From the tone in his voice I could guess he knew about that firsthand.

  A painful thought crossed my mind. I said it out loud. “Sometimes mothers can hurt you too.”

  “Yes, they can,” he sighed.

  I fell asleep to the feel of Creedence’s hands on me. He ran his palms across my back, then over my hips, cupping my breasts before spreading across my belly. It was strangely soothing and didn’t seem overtly sexual. Just a claim of sweet familiarity.

  When Creed was ready, once again, for more than just touching he wasn’t hesitant about taking it. And I was every bit as ready as he was.

  The next morning I was already dressed when he woke up. Thankfully, there had been no one else awake when I ventured into the hallway to use the bathroom. I was pulling my shoes on when Creed stirred.

  “Where are you going?” he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “Nowhere yet. I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye.”

  Creed sat up. “Let’s go grab something to eat.” He threw the covers back and opened the bedroom door. He wasn’t wearing a shred of clothing.

  “Okay,” I said, staring at his muscled ass as it disappeared into the bathroom. I wondered if he sunbathed in the nude. “I’ll be right here.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my hands while I waited for him. I couldn’t think of anything else to do. I jumped a little when the door across the hall opened up and Cord emerged.

  “Shit,” he swore when he saw me, shutting the door quickly. When he reopened it he was yanking on a pair of boxers. I averted my eyes. Did the Gentry boys have an everyday habit of parading around their apartment naked as fucking jaybirds?

  Cord smiled at me. “Sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” I answered, craning my neck to see if Saylor was right behind him. I didn’t know how weird it would be for her to see me lounging on Creed’s bed.

  “She’s still asleep,” Cord said, closing the door behind him. He nodded at the bathroom door. “Big C in there?”

  “You call him Big C?”

  “Yeah, don’t you?” Then he laughed. “Hell, listen to me. I’m becoming as crude as Chasyn.”

  “Is Chase wandering around here naked as well?”

  Cord glanced down the hall. “Nah, he’s not home yet.”

  The bathroom door opened and there was Creed in all his golden glory. Cord pretended to be offended.

  “Cover that shit, Creedence. You know Say freaks when you guys have your junk hanging out.”

  Creed scowled at him. “Fuck you, you do it too.”

  Cord grinned. “Yeah, but she’s intimately acquainted with mine so it’s okay. You done hogging up the toilet?”

  The brothers pushed each other around good-naturedly and then Creed returned to the room. He rooted around in a sagging dresser before finding some boxers and jeans.

  “What’s that mean?” I asked, pointing to his chest at the words scripted in black.

  Creed looked down. “It’s Latin.”

  “Thanks, I already figured that part out.
Can you translate?”

  He smiled faintly. “Means ‘Yield to no one’.”

  That shut me up for a minute as Creed finished dressing. The words bounced around my head.

  Concedo nulli.

  Yield to no one.

  When I first met Creed Gentry I’d figured him to be arrogant, distant, and only interested in women as a form of disposable entertainment. Saylor had briefly described another side of him; a caring brother who was an artist at heart trying to overcome a painful history. He was a difficult man with a dense armor around him. The words on his chest were kind of a mantra, one he might feel the need to repeat to himself daily.

  Suddenly I understood him a little more. I knew that mantra. I knew what it felt like to have been so scarred that every touch brings the fear of reopening wounds.

  To embrace another person, to yield, was a risk.

  “You ready?” he asked me, grabbing his phone and wallet off the floor.

  “I’m ready,” I answered, standing.

  We met Chase staggering to the front door just as we were leaving. He was flushed, bleary eyed, and his torn shirt was on backwards so that the front read ‘Security’. He grinned so broadly when he saw us that I wondered if I’d simply imagined the coldness in his eyes the night before.

  “You kids eloping?”

  Creed looked him over. “What chewed you up and spit you out?”

  Chase frowned with mock seriousness “You’re wrong. You’re so very wrong. She didn’t spit at all. She graciously accepted the milky essence I bestowed upon her.”

  Creed just stared at his brother. “Huh?”

  “Some ladies still know how to swallow.” Chase winked at me.

  “Chase, for fuck’s sake,” Creed bellowed and Chase rolled his eyes.

  “Jesus, not you too. I’ve already got hyper Cordero breathing down my neck, whining ‘No, no, Chasyn, you can’t do that, say that, wear that, or think that,’ and now you’re playing the same fucking record. I happen to know that my BFF Saylor finds me wildly entertaining as long as I don’t roam around with my dick swinging.” He gestured to me. “I’d place bets that this one feels the same, don’t you honey?”