Fighting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Sports Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #5)

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Fighting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Bad Boy Sports Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #5) Page 13

by Naomi Niles


  “So,” Brittany started. “Four brothers, huh?”

  I nodded. “Growing up in that house was chaos.”

  “It must have been fun, though,” Brittany said, with longing in her voice. “I used to dream of having siblings when I was growing up. I thought that would make me feel less lonely.”

  “You were lonely?”

  “All the time,” she nodded. “I was kind of an odd kid.”

  “Odd?” I repeated.

  She shrugged. “I liked weird music, I dressed differently, and I didn’t really fit in with any one group in school. I suppose the other kids didn’t really know what to do with me so they just…ignored me altogether.”

  “I can’t imagine anyone ignoring you,” I said honestly. I wasn’t trying to be flattering, and I wasn’t trying to pay her a compliment. That was genuinely how I felt. She was a beautiful girl and the past she was describing to me just didn’t make sense.

  “You should know that I looked a little different back then,” Brittany admitted.

  “How so?”

  “I was a little overweight in middle school,” she admitted. “I had these awful bulky braces that made me look like a Martian from outer space, I had these out of date glasses that I wore for a couple of years, and I had the most terrible acne until I was seventeen. I wasn’t the prettiest kid. I was the prettiest teenager, either.”

  “Well, it obviously didn’t last.”

  “I dropped out of high school in my senior year,” Brittany told me. “And from then on, it was all about survival. I kept my head down and worked hard, and all the petty things that used to bother me suddenly disappeared. When I finally started paying attention again, I guess I had grown out of a few things. The glasses I wore managed to correct my eyesight, so I didn’t need them anymore; my acne cleared up, and I had my braces removed before I left school.”

  “So everything worked out,” I said. “And the ugly duckling became a swan.”

  Brittany laughed. “I don’t know about that, but my looks improved. I’d like to say that I was self actualized enough not to care about that but the truth is I cared. I always felt like an outsider wherever I went and I suppose looking a certain way helped me to fit in.”

  “I know something about not fitting in,” I replied.

  “Do you?” Brittany asked uncertainly.

  “Yes, and I’ll say this. Sometimes having siblings doesn’t really make much of a difference,” I said. “I grew up with four older brothers, and I still always felt like the outsider… The black sheep of the family.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe because I was the youngest. Maybe because I was just different, quieter and more reserved than the rest. Maybe it had something to do with my mother… I don’t really know.”

  “Your mother?”

  I hesitated a moment, realizing that I’d just mentioned my mother to her. I was a little surprised that it had slipped out. I hated going into the details of my family drama with anyone. I hated to talk about it too much, even with my own brothers and it was our shared history.

  “It’s a long story,” I said.

  Brittany looked at me for a moment and then she gave me a soft smile. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable,” she said.

  “I just…don’t like talking about it too much,” I said. “Especially because it’s in the past. Nothing I do now can change what happened, so why drag it out and talk about it all the time?”

  “Some people say it can be cathartic,” she said. “But apart from that, sometimes it’s not about dragging up the past, sometimes it’s about sharing a part of yourself with someone you trust.”

  “Yeah…”

  “It’s okay, Talen,” Brittany said, reaching out and placing her hand over mine. “You don’t have to talk about it. Forget I asked the question, okay?”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “Thanks.”

  The waitress appeared at our table again with our meals, and we tucked into our hearty dinner. We shared light conversation. Ryan and I explained about the MMA, and the girls told us about the diner and how they had both come to work there. By the time we had finished with our dinner, it was ten o’clock.

  “I think this is the perfect time to hit a club,” Lacey said. “Are you guys in?”

  I hesitated and turned towards Brittany. “Only if you are?”

  She nodded. “Why not,” she agreed.

  I saw Ryan’s face light up, and I knew he understood where the night was heading. We ended up at a club only a few blocks away from the restaurant. Again it was dimly lit and pulsing with lights and smoke, but the effect was to create an aura of sex and excitement. Ryan and Lacey wasted no time in getting to the dance floor. Within seconds, they were dirty dancing and grinding against one another. I looked at them with distaste and turned to Brittany.

  “It’s like they were made for each other.”

  “You made a good call there,” she congratulated me. “Now, are you going to ask me to dance?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  She laughed. “Why not?”

  “I’m not the dancing type.”

  “Well, then how about you just stand there and I’ll dance around you?” Brittany suggested. “That’s a happy compromise, right?”

  “It sounds like a trick.”

  “Come on,” she urged, grabbing my hand and dragging me onto the dance floor.

  I was a little less self-conscious because of how cloudy and unclear the dance floor was. It was packed with people, and you could only see so far as the three people surrounding you.

  I kept my eyes focused solely on Brittany, however. She looked particularly sexy as she started dancing around in front of me as though no one could see her. She was so uninhibited that I wanted to grab her and take her right there in the middle of the club.

  I seriously contemplated grabbing her, dragging her off to some little corner, and fucking her against a back wall. But I also wanted to watch her dance some more. She danced with her eyes closed, moving her body to the beat of the music as though possessed by it. With the smoke surrounding her perfect hourglass body, she looked like a creature out of a mythical land. She looked like a siren who lured men to their deaths by virtue of her beauty.

  She danced close to me, moving her body against mine without expecting anything in return. I just stood there and watched her. After awhile, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to find Ryan a few inches from my face.

  “Hey, man,” he said, as Brittany and I turned to him. “I’m taking Lacey home, okay?”

  As Brittany and Lacey said their goodbyes, Ryan turned to me and started making sexual hand signals that indicated what he would be doing with Lacey when he got her home. I rolled my eyes and shoved him away from me with my fist. Laughing, he grabbed Lacey, said goodbye to Brittany, and the two of them headed out.

  When Brittany turned to me, her blue eyes were hooded, but there was a deep sensuality in them and I knew she’d had enough, too. “Come home with me,” she said.

  “I will,” I replied.

  Since Ryan had taken Lacey home in his car, Brittany and I got a cab and headed to her place. We didn’t talk much on the cab ride over, but the sexual tension that filled the space between us spoke volumes. The moment we entered the dark space of her living room, I closed the door and then reached for her. She fell into my arms easily, and I leaned down and kissed her hard.

  She buckled under the weight of my kiss, and I lifted her up in my arms to carry her into the bedroom. Moonlight streamed in from her windows, so I didn’t bother turning on her room lights. Instead, I placed her gently on the bed and started to undress her slowly. The whole time, I kept my eyes locked on hers. I could feel myself harden instantly.

  Her body was beautiful, a perfect mix of hard lines and soft curves. Her shoulders were small, shapely, and angular. Her breasts were firm and rounded, and they fit perfectly in my hand. Her stomach was toned and flat, a
nd her thighs were thin, long, and shapely. When she was naked in front of me, I pushed myself off the bed and onto my feet so that I could undress quickly.

  I could feel her eyes studying my body. When I was naked, too, I bent down between her legs and pulled her towards me. I could feel her anticipation as I lowered my mouth to her cunt, and I longed to experience the sweet taste of her once again.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brittany

  It was like his tongue could unlock feelings that I never knew could be humanly possible to experience. It started with this floating feeling that was almost peaceful. Then, there was the piercing pull of desire that quickly overtook it. Then, I was moaning, crying out, trying to grab onto anything I could find just to keep myself in the present.

  He took no notice of my movements or my screams. He kept his hands on my hips, while one hand moved up and down my torso as though he were massaging me into stillness. Every so often, his fingers would rake across my breasts, brushing across my nipples, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. I arched my back as my toes curled in ecstatic animation. It was the most glorious feeling in the world, and when I came, it was with an almost calm sense of satisfaction. I felt his lips kiss me between the legs one last time before he rose.

  I stared into his beautiful blue eyes and remembered that the first time I had seen them, they had reminded me of the sea before a storm. They were a dark, violent blue that promised a wild passion, but there was more there than just a mix of passionate emotion. There was calm, there was thoughtfulness and kindness, perhaps even a little bit of vulnerability. But it was all hidden behind amazing strength, a determination that had seen him through his life and the loneliness that had emerged from it.

  I understood that loneliness only because I had experienced it, too. It was hard being the outsider; survival was even more imperative because you had no one else to rely on. I reached out with my hand and drew him up towards me. When he kissed me, I could taste myself on his tongue. It sent a thrill clawing through my body, and I knew I wanted more of him. The night was young and that was my solace.

  I flipped over so that Talen was lying flat on the bed and I was straddling him at the hips. He was still hard, erect and ready for me. But I wanted a few moments to admire him. I had a Greek god in my bed and I wanted to savor that moment.

  I had learnt a long time ago that moments like these were often temporary. They were filled with promise, but they disappeared all too soon. If I got only that with Talen, then I would make sure to take a breath and soak in the nuances.

  He watched me watch him, and I wondered for a moment what he was thinking. Did he see me the way I saw him? Was this as different for him as it was for me? Was this just another night with another woman, or did he think there was something special here?

  I didn’t want to ask because I was afraid of the answer. Instead, I let my hands run across his chiselled chest. My first impression of him had been correct – it was like he was carved from stone. There was not an ounce of fat on the man. He was like granite or marble; his body was ridged muscle and sharp angles. His shoulders were so broad that they took my breath away. His arms were toned and muscled to perfection, and I took a moment to trace my hands along his impressive biceps.

  His scars and tattoos only made him more beautiful. There were stories there, his life was written across his body in a way that he would probably never be able to accurately describe. He had Celtic symbols, spiritual phrases written in ancient languages, and beautifully detailed images inked onto his skin.

  There was the pouncing tiger, the biting scorpion, and the hooded eagle. Each animal represented a little piece of Talen. I recognized their significance without having to hear it from him.

  I bent my head down and kissed each tattoo; I kissed his arms, his chest, his neck, and his face. I could feel his hands on my body and knew he couldn’t wait anymore. He slipped inside me easily given how wet I was, and the moment we fused together, I saw his eyes close in relief.

  I took control, allowing my hips to move slowly against him. He was deep inside me, and I was aching for him, savoring each tugging pull of emotion. My body had never felt so alive, so desirable, and so in control. It gave me new confidence – the kind of confidence that gave you courage.

  As the minutes ticked by, the urgency and the need became more acute. I started moving faster against him, lifting myself up before slamming down onto his cock. I felt a smile tease the corner of my lips at his moan. I repeated the process, rising and falling hard on his cock, and each time, I felt another surge of passion and heat.

  Talen gripped my hips hard and anchoring me as I bounced on his cock with increasing force. His eyes were wild and his jaw was tensed, and I knew he was fighting the orgasm that was close to the surface in an effort to make this moment last. I slowed down my pace and felt him shudder. With my hands on his chest, I rode him slowly at first, before I increased the tempo again.

  Then, all of a sudden, Talen grabbed me bodily and flipped me around so that he was on top. The strength with which he moved me took my breath away. It was like I was a rag doll and it had taken no effort at all.

  I loved the feeling of having him on top of me and inside me all at the same time. Missionary was such an underrated position. It was a beautiful expression of intimacy. Our faces were only inches apart, his chest pressed up against my breasts; his breathing tickled my eyes and nose. It was a celebration of the physical, an ode to our bodies.

  I could tell that this position gave him more control. He hiked up one of my legs until it was resting on his shoulder. A new wave of pleasure overtook me as he rammed into me, and for a moment, it almost felt as though he were fucking me into oblivion. I moaned and writhed underneath him, looking for some way to keep control, but there was just no way to do it. This kind of pleasure had to be divine because it just had no place in the mortal realm.

  His eyes met mine, and we held the eye contact as we both orgasmed together. It was violent and passionate and filled with heat. I clung to his body even after the spasms of pleasure had left us. His face was pressed in against my shoulder, and I could feel his breath warming me. After a moment, I felt him lick the sweat off my breasts and felt a tingle ring down between my legs. My body was sore and aching, but I had never welcomed the feeling more.

  At last, Talen rolled off me until we were lying side by side in my tiny bed. He raised his arm so that I could rest my head against his shoulder. It was in the quiet moments when I could feel the little buzz of alcohol float my system. It was wearing off now, there was barely any left. It was giving me new clarity and a newfound appreciation for the last hour. But it was also making me sleepy. I could feel my eyes blink shut slowly. Annoyed, I tried to stay awake. I wanted this night to last forever.

  “You have a dreamcatcher,” Talen said suddenly.

  “What?”

  “A dreamcatcher,” he repeated.

  I lifted my head a little so that I could see the direction of his gaze. The dreamcatcher was an old brown one with yellowy-blue feathers and red beads that I had bought at a flea market a couple of years ago when I had just moved into this apartment. I had hung it on my bedroom door for good luck.

  “Oh yeah,” I smiled. “I have a dreamcatcher tattoo,” Talen said. “It’s on my back under the tattoo of the date of my dad’s death.”

  “You lost your father?”

  “A long time ago,” he nodded.

  “Was that the first tattoo you got?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “When you were thirteen?” I asked.

  He glanced down at me. “Did I mention that to you?”

  “Once,” I nodded. “In passing at the diner… I remembered.”

  Talen turned his eyes up to the ceiling. “The dreamcatcher I got a few years later. I had always associated it with my father, but I think…”

  “Yes?”

  “It might be more about my brother.”

  “Which one?”

  “M
y oldest brother,” he replied. “Peter. But then, he’s always been a father figure in my life, so maybe there’s not much difference there.”

  I knew he was talking mostly to himself. But it didn’t matter. He had trusted me enough to let down his walls, and I wasn’t naïve enough to believe they would stay down forever. So I prompted him gently.

  “Why did you think of your brother when you saw the dreamcatcher?”

  “He used to carve them out of wood,” Talen replied. “And, decorate them with eagle feathers. He made them for me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was five and our mother had left us,” he said softly. “I think it was the only way he could think of to cheer me up.”

  “He sounds like a pretty great brother.”

  “I haven’t always thought so,” he said softly. “I haven’t always been fair to him.”

  “Have you told him that?”

  “No,” Talen replied. “I can’t…”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not the talking type,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation.

  “You mean, you’re too proud,” I said gently.

  The corners of his mouth went up in a tiny smile. “You could be right about that. I am too proud. It’s the reason I haven’t really spent much time with my mother since she came back.”

  “She came back?”

  Talen nodded. “She had a reason for leaving us. It was even a good reason, but…”

  “You were hurt.”

  “And proud,” Talen added.

  “You don’t have to keep being either,” I reminded him.

  “Maybe…”

  His words trailed off, and I let the silence sit. I sensed that he had said everything he needed to say, and I didn’t want to take more from him than he was willing to give. We lay like that, in each other’s arms, and I drifted off to sleep against his shoulder.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Talen

  I blinked awake, aware that I was not in my normal surroundings. It took me only a moment to remember last night. It came to me in a wave of memories, and I knew that thinking about it too much would just inspire a hard on. Brittany was lying against my shoulder; her hair was sprawled across my arm, locks of deep black hair that would have put Snow White to shame.

 

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