“I’m waiting,” Annalee said softly.
“We’ll talk about it later.” With any luck she’d forget about it and wouldn’t ask again. It was bad enough he dreaded the mission.
Rashand and his lackeys were heavily armed with assault rifles, missile rockets and whatever else they could get their greedy hands on. The man wasn’t easy to take down then and Brent imagined it would only get worse.
On a positive note, being assigned to recapture the thug bought him extra time inland to spend with Annalee. She’d just made it a little more convenient by opening her home.
During the past few years he’d ridden the waves with her on his mind. And after the previous rescue mission barely ended in his favor, he vowed to see her once more. While being airlifted to the hospital, bleeding profusely, her face was the last thing he’d remembered.
He resolved himself to the fact he’d perish at sea. Whether in one year or twenty. With the overtaking of ships and hostage situations occurring on the waters more often, it was inevitable unless he dumped the career. But he refused to give it up. The excitement of attacking and taking control of a pirate ship bled through his veins. Pirates fascinated him when he was just a kid, and he’d dreamt of being like Blackbeard when he grew up. That fantasy faded by twelve years old, but the thrill lingered in his blood.
When Whiltby originally asked if he’d be interested in taking on the sea, Brent thought the man had lost his fucking mind. But during his first exploratory journey across the waters, he couldn’t imagine life anywhere else. It’s something he’d dreamt about his entire life.
“Brent?” Annalee asked, her whispery voice drifting in the silence as she rolled onto her side, snuggling her back to his chest.
“Yes?”
“Are your eyes closed?” She wiggled her rear against his crotch.
“Not anymore.” The contact instantly hardened his cock and it shot upward along her lower spine. “Easy.”
“Close them. I want to take advantage of a sleeping man,” she reached between their bodies and fisted his penis, “so I can be punished again.”
Chapter Five
Wow, Annalee needed a bigger house. Having the brothers amble around the place dwarfed her happy bungalow. Especially the kitchen. There was barely enough room for them plus her, unless they all sat at the table.
They’d obviously intrigued her fluffy feline. Morton made sure he’d apprised them of his presence by circling their ankles before darting off into the laundry room.
She was glad they’d accepted her invitation. It gave her and Brent the chance to reminisce, along with the opportunity to explore and delve deeper into each other’s psyche. Their relationship in the past hadn’t crossed the line of strictly business, and despite wanting to know every detail about him down to his time of birth, she’d never asked. He seemed too unapproachable in the personal life department to disclose any information. Besides, they weren’t that close. They worked side by side once a month for eleven months to analyze Whiltby & Sons’ financial statements.
A sixty-year-old, anal-retentive man with grayish-black hair had taken his place, who uncomfortably gawked at her over the top of his glasses when he should’ve been talking numbers. He’d been disciplined once for sexually harassing the human resource manager, so Annalee avoided any chance of physical contact with him by sitting on the opposite side of his desk. Hort Horrance, aka Freaky Accountant, lived up to his coworker-appointed name. And boy, at times, he really creeped her out.
She shook off the visual of his beady eyes, opened the oven door and pulled out the broiler pan to flip the T-bone steaks and sprinkle them with garlic powder.
“You need help with those, Annalee?” Brent asked, his husky voice sending a soft shudder along her spine.
“No thanks.” Despite not needing assistance, she sensed him drawing near her back end, which just happened to be pointing in his direction. She hadn’t intentionally offered him that view. Well, maybe she had. Okay, it was her full intention to flaunt one of her best assets in his face. But that’s what he got for sitting at the table, staring at her like she was the main course when he should’ve been tossing the salad.
He made her feel so damn sexy and airy, she couldn’t refrain from tantalizing him somewhat. What a turn-on, knowing he was helpless to do anything because Brody stood at the counter, crying over the potent onions he was trying to dice on a cutting board. The silly guy had originally started chopping them with a pocketknife. If she hadn’t replaced it with a paring knife, he would’ve been dicing until morning.
Just as she slid the rack back inside the hot compartment, a large hand reclined on her lower back. She jumped. The outer side of her index finger hit the top of the oven and it burned her skin. “Yowch!” she shrieked, dropping the potholder. She stuck her finger in her mouth then pulled it out and shook it.
“Christ, I’m sorry.” Brent guided her to the sink, turned on the faucet and held her hand under cold water. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It was my fault, really.”
“Brent, don’t be burning up our hostess,” Brody said. “I’ve already claimed the refund on my hotel room.” He smiled and sniffled. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine, Brody, no reason to cry.”
“Oh but you are every reason to shed a tear over,” he cooed, wiping tears off his cheek with the back of his hand.
She giggled. She really adored him. It’d taken a little coaxing and a lot of convincing to talk him into bunking at her house for the week. Whereas Brent felt he’d be imposing on her, Brody felt he’d be imposing on both of them. Finally, with her persistence and Brent’s influence, Brody buckled under the pressure and said yes.
His fun-loving disposition added balance to his serious side. Unlike his brother, he removed himself from uncomfortable situations, as he proved last night at the party when he avoided Sean. Brent, on the other hand, seized control.
Yes, he certainly did. Good Lord, he’d actually tied her to the bed. And with her pantyhose that he’d taken the liberty to shred.
Her belly spun and heated in a slow burn. Hell, the little blister on her finger didn’t even compare to the hot sensation. “My finger is fine,” she said, turning off the water. But she was everything but fine. The visions of last night along with his huge body wrapped around her from behind, trapping her at the sink, ignited an inferno in her blood, nearly causing an internal meltdown. “All it needs is a Band-Aid. Will you please nuke the potatoes while I find one?”
She stepped under Brent’s arm into the cool temperature of the house and headed toward the main bathroom. On the way past her bedroom, she stopped and glanced at her bed. Tonight Brent will be sleeping in there with me. God, she couldn’t wait. What time was it now? Six-ish? Was six-fifteen too early to turn in for the night? Maybe she’d tie him up this time and torture his masculine body—perhaps run her tongue along the prominent, muscular contours of his chest—then follow the line of hair from his abdomen to his—
“Hey, sweetheart, what do you want me to do with these onions?” Brody hollered.
She spun around. “Sauté them in butter with the mushrooms,” she hollered back. Morton decided at that moment to dash past her feet, and he disappeared inside her room. Crazy cat.
Now what the heck was she doing? The anticipation of what would take place in her bedroom completely shut down her mind, and she’d forgotten which direction she’d headed, and for what. Geez, she needed professional help sometimes.
Traipsing back into the kitchen, she flipped the steaks one last time and shut off the broiler. Brody stood at the stove mixing melted butter, the onions and mushrooms, and they smelled delicious. Brent had taken a seat at the table. Again she felt his gaze whisking across her backside. Tingles followed it along her spine.
“Thought you were getting a Band-Aid for your finger?” he asked, his voice adding zings to her unfolding arousal.
Aha! A Band-Aid. That’s what she’d gone after. “
I don’t have any left.” She’d have to remember to hide the box so he wouldn’t find it.
She moved behind his chair and lightly massaged his shoulders. They were so firm and powerful, and they stiffened upon contact. The sinful scent of his musky, spicy cologne spiraled through her nostrils and settled in her fuck me zone, forcing all thoughts back into her bedroom.
Maybe coexisting with him this week was a bad idea. It’d be so easy to eat, sleep and drink Brent Delaney until Thursday. Which meant no time for work. How much trouble would she get in if she called off for the next four days and violated a policy that only allowed three per year?
Thank God for Brody. His presence should keep her grounded and prevent her from making any rash decisions that could cost her job.
As she slid her hands over Brent’s shoulders to the base of his neck, he stiffened even more. In a courageous, seductive, no-time-to-think moment, she lowered her lips to his ear. “I want you to fuck me all night long,” she whispered, then brazenly bit his lobe before straightening into a full stance.
“Brody, what are your plans tonight?” he asked, his tone labored and hoarse.
“I don’t know. I thought about watching a movie or two on the tube.” He turned around, holding a coated spoon. Annalee couldn’t see the look on Brent’s face, but she sure saw the shock on Brody’s. “Or maybe,” he added quickly, “I’ll go somewhere and have a few brews.”
Annalee pulled out a chair and sat down. She couldn’t wait to get Brent alone but not at Brody’s expense. She’d invited him to stay at her house, which meant making him feel comfortable and at home. No way did she want to push him out so she could partake in a sexual tryst with Brent. She’d have her time alone with him, even if it cost her sleepless nights. “I think watching movies is a great idea. I’ve got a ton of DVDs, and they’re not all girlie.” Thanks to Jared having left a stack behind. “And if you want beers, I can run to the drive-through.”
“She’s right,” Brent said. “You don’t need to be hanging at some bar and chance driving back in this shitty weather.”
Annalee smiled at Brent’s quick fix to whatever expression he’d given Brody that motivated a need to leave. “I love snuggling on the couch to watch movies when it’s cold and snowy outside,” she said. “If you don’t want beer, I can make hot chocolate.”
“With marshmallows?” Brody joked, his eyes rounded in delight.
“With as many as you want.”
“Okay, movies and hot chocolate it is.” He smiled as he turned back to the stove and stirred the onions. “I think this stuff is done.”
After Annalee set the table, Brent removed the steaks from the broiler, potatoes from the microwave then he and Brody filled their plates and sat down to eat.
She drowned her baked potato in butter, ate the creamy filling then gobbled her entire salad before starting on the steak. It cut into pieces easily enough, but when she’d taken a bite it hurt her teeth to chew. Figures. Every stinking time she broiled steak it turned out like jerky. At least she’d forewarned the guys about her culinary skills.
She pushed the plate aside and sat back in the seat. “So what would you like to eat?”
“This is fine, Annalee,” Brent said.
“Yeah, it’s good,” Brody agreed.
“Don’t try to flatter me, guys. It’s bad.” She jumped up and browsed the almost bare fridge, strumming her fingers on the handle. Why hadn’t she shopped for the week instead of picking up a few things for tonight’s dinner? Dummy. Now she’d have to stop at the store tomorrow. “Hmmm, how about pizza or Chinese? They both deliver.”
“Seriously, baby, it’s okay. You got a tough hunk of meat. Mine isn’t too chewy.”
Too chewy.
“Mine either,” Brody added.
“Fine, don’t blame me when your jaws hurt.” She grabbed a gallon of iced tea, shut the door and poured three glasses. They’d need something to help wash down the leathery meat. She sipped her glass after returning to her seat.
“Brent, I talked to Mom and Dad today,” Brody said, stabbing a hunk of beef with his fork. “They want to see you before you take off Thursday.”
“Why?”
Brody looked at him over his nose. “You know why.”
Annalee glanced between the two of them. Why?
“Then I’ll fly home on Wednesday for a few hours.”
“I’m glad you said that.” Brody raised a serious brow. “I told them you would. Otherwise they planned on booking a flight into Cleveland.”
Annalee could’ve made room for two more, well, other than in the kitchen. But she did have two more table chairs. She’d love to meet them and see which parent the brothers resembled most. With their identical movements, expressions and smiles, she enjoyed watching their interactions. “They could’ve stayed here too,” she said.
“No,” the brothers shouted in unison.
Yikes. She raised her hands, backing off. “Okay, I get it. I was just trying to be nice.”
Brody smirked and shook his head. “We appreciate it. They’re great people, but whenever we’re in the same room together, things tend to get a little, uh, what’s the word I’m looking—”
“Manipulative,” Brent grumbled.
“Yeah, that’s it. Dad’s a control freak at times, and you’re so much like him. I bet that’s why you’re his favorite.”
“Maybe his favorite to butt heads with,” Brent grouched.
Annalee glanced at him and flaunted a faux-surprised grin. “Really? I would never have guessed.”
“I’m sure you’ll meet them someday, sweetheart. And you’ll love them as everyone else does. Let’s just say, they were the neighborhood mom and dad.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” She smiled at Brody then focused on Brent, as if he’d silently beckoned her attention away from his brother.
“I’ll probably fly home with you, brother,” Brody added. “But I doubt I’ll come back.”
Annalee squirmed in the chair and crossed her legs. Sex and sensuality oozed from every inch of Brent. The way he held his fork. The contraction of his forearm muscles as he sawed the steak knife through the meat. The tic of his jaw when he chewed. The large pectorals protruding through the face of his partially unbuttoned black shirt. The bulge in his pants hidden beneath the table.
The visual threw her temperature into the red zone. The room suddenly grew hot and her belly weakened, awaking her arousal once again.
He’d just raised the fork to take another bite when he captured her gaze. His lids narrowed as he laid the fork on his plate.
God, she couldn’t wait to get him alone. How many more hours until bedtime? If she acted sleepy, she could call it an early night and crawl into bed, hoping he’d follow. Or she could watch movies like they’d planned and wait it out. Seriously, she’d felt like this years ago and ended up going home alone to play with her dildo, so a few more hours wouldn’t hurt. But now that she’d gotten bitten by the Brent bug…
If she didn’t get up soon, she’d stick to the seat from the amount of pussy juice dripping into her pants. It was just too surreal how a simple, heavy-lidded gaze affected her like that. “I’ll clean up the dishes, take a quick shower then we’ll start a movie. How’s that?” She jumped up and filled the sink with soapy water.
Brent walked his plate to the counter. “Why don’t I clean up the kitchen while you take a shower? That won’t kill as much time.”
Was he thinking what she’d been thinking the past hour? “I like that idea better.” Her tummy bottomed out when he kissed her on the lips.
“And I’ll make the hot chocolate,” Brody threw in.
She practically ran into the bathroom, tied her hair up so it wouldn’t get wet and then jumped into the tub for a high-speed shower. After a thorough washing and touch-up shave, she threw on a thigh-length babydoll nightie, minus underpants, and covered up with a mint-green, furry robe.
When she walked into the family room, Brent sat watching her
from the corner of the couch while Brody sat on the floor in front of the TV, flipping through movies. After he’d found one, he inserted it into the DVD player then lay down on the floor, tucking a couch pillow beneath his head. Morton ambled from the kitchen, walked a curious circle around him then sauntered toward the kitchen, holding his arrogant snout high in the air.
Annalee grabbed two blankets from the hallway closet, spread one over Brody then covered herself after cuddling beside Brent. A few minutes later, while previews danced across the television, she rested her head on his shoulder, and before the movie even started she lay down with her head on his upper thigh. She slid one hand under his leg and laid the other on top. It was so hard and thick with muscle, it flexed even with the slightest movement.
She craned her neck to look into his eyes. He had an elbow propped on the arm of the couch, cheek resting on his fist, glancing at her. “Why don’t you lie under the blankets with me?” she whispered. Not waiting for his response, she stood up, giving him room to maneuver.
He lay down on his hip, backside against the couch, and she settled in front of him with her back to his chest. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged, pulling her flush against his huge body. Then he covered them with the blanket and placed his mouth above her ear. Even though the robe served as a barrier, she felt every muscle and bulge conform to her backside. Just that contact alone fed a portion of the arousal clawing under her skin. “Mmm,” she purred, wiggling her backside against his fully erect cock.
“Shhh.” He cupped a hand over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered in her ear. “Now spread your legs so I can fuck you.” He rested his lips in her hair. “All night long.”
Whoa, huge tummy meltdown. And she didn’t discount the fact he could. Having his brother present on the floor in front of them was a bit nerve-racking, and she’d preferred the bedroom where they could act open and freely. But the erotic flare of doing the naughty thing without getting caught made it worth spreading her thighs.
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