by Aria Cole
“Babe.” I nodded, glancing from him back to the car. “This is all so cheesy, I can’t even—”
“Don’t give a shit if it’s cheesy, Bryn.” He pressed a palm at my elbow and pulled me to him. Close enough that our bodies brushed together. “I plan on showing you how a man treats a woman. Maybe next time you won’t have to go back to that service to find a date.”
My muscles tensed at his words. “You don’t know anything about why I called—”
“I don’t need to, Bryn. A woman only calls a service…like mine…when she hasn’t been treated the right way by a real man. I’m changing that tonight. No two ways about it.”
I didn’t speak, letting his broad statements sink in. Was he right? I know I’d never been touched like he was touching me right now, and that felt pretty damn good.
“Are you going to be this bossy all night?” I finally pulled my elbow out of his reach.
A small chuckle fell past his lips before he replied. “Probably. Better you get used to it now.”
He opened the door, allowing me to slide onto the cool leather seats of the car.
“Fair warning,” I said as he slipped behind the wheel. “I don’t do well with being told what to do.”
His eyes cut to mine before the engine roared to life. “Let’s see about that.”
Chapter Four
Brodie
“Where we headed?” I glanced across the seat at her.
The way the slinky fabric of the champagne dress caressed her soft thighs made my dick pound.
She was so much more decadent, so much more fuckable than my feeble memory could have recalled.
She was drop dead gorgeous.
“Take I-90 north. Exit 374,” she mumbled, eyes steady out the windshield.
“Cat got your tongue?” I switched lanes, failing to turn on my blinker before cutting off another car and barely making it on the expressway ramp.
“More like the escort,” she quipped, shifting even farther away from me.
Not good.
Not good at all.
If this was going to work, she had to believe that I was an escort. I had to play the ruse. Didn’t I? I hadn’t even considered the implications of telling her, because I’d promised my brother I wouldn’t. But what the hell did it matter if I did? It’s not like she’d topple the whole business, or leave a bad review on Yelp. No, this is not how that worked.
“So…” I stole another glance. “What made you pick up the phone and make the date?”
One eyebrow arched at me, and then her mouth opened. “Because my sister is getting married and I absolutely can’t stand the judgment in her eyes. It’s like this weird mix of pity and contempt. And then she started dating Max. Max Kennedy, that’s all she talks about. And when they’re together, his hands are on her all the time. It makes me want to throw up.”
“Why does the fact that your sister found someone who loves her make you want to throw up?” I asked.
“Because she doesn’t deserve it! She doesn’t deserve him, the way he looks at her, like she can do no wrong… She does wrong all the time! Starting with the way she treats me.”
“Sounds like I’m walking into a very healthy family situation here.”
“Ha,” she scoffed. “Sorry, I should have warned you. Like a disclaimer on the questionnaire—someone who can comfortably withstand family pressure.” She chuckled ruefully.
“It’s okay.” I slid a hand across the seat, grasping her knee with a soft squeeze. “I get it. My brother is a dickhead.”
“A dickhead?” She laughed, covering her mouth as her cheeks turned a shade of red.
It was cute. Everything about her was captivatingly cute.
I wanted to fuck the cute right out of her.
“I can handle difficult family members just fine. You may want to worry about yourself.”
She shook her head, eyes averted to the road. My hand still rested on her knee and I’d keep it right there the whole damn time if she’d let me. “I’ll be fine. I’m always fine. No one ever asks how Bryn is, so I don’t speak up. Just do my time then walk away again. Makes it easier. My sister fights with everyone. I can’t even stand to hear her voice after an hour with her.”
“She sounds like a peach,” I chimed in.
“She is. And you don’t have to look far to figure out where she got it from. My parents are…” Her pretty face turned down in a frown.
“Whatever your parents are can’t be that bad. They raised you, and you’re nothing like you described your sister.”
Her eyes cast across the interior of the car, locking on me.
For endless beats I stared at the road ahead, my hands gripping the wheel for dear life while my cock pulsed painfully against my pants.
Shit, what was this girl doing to me?
“Thank you for letting me…spill everything.”
“I appreciate the briefing. I won’t be too shocked when your sister starts throwing plates and screaming at the caterers now.” Bryn chuckled, eyes crinkling adorably as she turned her gaze back out the window. “I was going to ask why we didn’t have a rehearsal dinner to attend, but now I have a feeling I know.”
“Yeah, I bailed on that shit. Told them I had an appointment I just couldn't break.” She shrugged, shooting me a wry grin. The way she said it so matter-of-factly surprised me. She was unlike any woman I’d ever met in my life. She was so much sweeter than I could have imagined, so much funnier, and the way she smelled...I could bathe myself in her every day and be one happy son of a bitch.
“You look beautiful, Bryn.” I slipped my palm above her knee, pinky hovering at the hem of her thin little cocktail dress.
“Thank you,” she whispered, shifting her face back to me before dropping to my throat. “How did you know to wear red?”
“What?” I asked, glancing at her quickly before turning my eyes back to the road.
“Your red tie—it matches my shoes.” She gestured to the shimmering red heels on her feet.
“Luck, I guess.” I shrugged, playing off my lie. I’d had a feeling she’d wear those shoes tonight. No woman gets a pair of shoes like that and doesn’t wear them to the one place she’d want to look her best.
“You seem like a pretty lucky guy, Brodie,” she commented, a wry smile on her pretty lips.
“Indeed I am, Bryn.” I slipped a fingertip under the hem of her dress. “I’m the luckiest motherfucker you’ve ever met.”
Chapter Five
Bryn
We pulled up outside my parents’ estate, a hired valet nodding as he took the keys of the Porsche from Brodie. Blood-red displays of roses, seven feet high at least, welcomed guests to the wedding. Red satin bows tied around the stately pillars and red lace-draped tables piled high with elegant white and pink gifts nearly made me gag. This was my sister all right, everything was over the top. Of course she wouldn’t have a Valentine’s Day wedding without red hearts and flowers thrown up on everything. This wedding was cringeworthy already.
“Welcome home, princess.” Brodie swung my door open, holding out a hand with one quirked eyebrow. “Someone better be feeling festive.”
I stood, straightening my dress. “I can’t stand it.”
A laugh barked out of him. “Don’t tempt me to sweep that frown off your face.”
“And how would you do that?” I shot back at him.
His eyes narrowed, I stared at his chiseled jaw, the softest smattering of five o’clock shadow, hovering just out of reach of my lips. What would one small kiss from his lips taste like?
“It involves my hands under that dress.” His words pulled me out of the day dream and sent lightning bolts between my legs.
“Oh?” The word fell from my lips before I could contain it.
“Mm… Don’t give me that look, sweetheart.” His hand circled my waist, pulling me a little closer. His nose drifted up the curve of my neck, whispering at the shell of my ear before he breathed, “That look tells me you want it.” H
is hand wound around my throat, the pad of his thumb sliding across the hollow at its base. “That you need it.”
I swallowed, not a single thought in my grasp.
Brodie’s hand pushed through my hair his thumb still resting at my throat before his lips touched mine in an achingly slow, tantalizing, probing kiss.
He wasn’t asking for permission, he was giving me time to adjust.
Because after that, his tongue was in my mouth and his hands were clutching at my waist, and it was a good thing, because I would have fallen if his thick arms weren’t enveloping me.
“I love kissing you for everyone and God to see, but I think someone is coming,” he murmured, quickly glancing over my shoulder.
I turned, Brodie’s hand still hovering at my back, to find the giant wall of my six foot-five father. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Who’s this?” he grunted and pulled at the light pink tie cinched at his neck.
“This is Brodie—”
“Brodie Merrick, sir. Nice to meet you.” Brodie held a hand out to my father.
For the first time in too long, I watched surprise wash over John Stafford’s face before he nodded and shook hands with Brodie. “John Stafford. How long you been seein’ Bryn?”
Shit.
Dad was going right for the details.
Why hadn’t I thought to work this over with Brodie in the car before we arrived?
“Best few months of my life.” Brodie smiled at my dad. “Saw a driving range when we pulled in—you play golf?”
My father’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, as if he was taken aback by Brodie’s… confidence. Manliness. Brodie wasn’t intimidated by my father; he went toe to toe with him. Spoke to him on the same level. No one had ever been able to accomplish that with my dad. Except Max. Max Kennedy had figured out my father from the get go and found himself tucked neatly inside the back of my father’s chinos.
I think Max fulfilled my father’s long-forgotten desire for male progeny. In fact, I think if he could have traded me in, he would have.
“You play the good game?”
“I do, sir. Was practicing my swing just last week at Turnberry.”
“Florida? You spend time down there?”
“Often as I can. Best golfing weather in the country. Next to Hawaii, of course.”
“Maui’s got a nice course. Always wanted to get to Kauai though.”
“Oh, you haven't seen anything until you’ve been on the green at Kauai. My brother’s got a place there. He wouldn’t mind an extra pair of shoes on the green.” Brodie clapped my father on the shoulder like they’d been old friends for decades.
I frowned, feeling the after-effects of Brodie’s kiss on my lips as he and my father walked away. Brodie’s hand laced with mine at the last second and pulled me along with them, tucking me close to his side. He shot me a quick wink, squeezing his hand in mine before replying to something my father had said.
My stomach swam with excitement at the thought of spending the next few hours tied to Brodie.
There were certainly worse ways to spend an evening.
Maybe Brodie wasn’t the only lucky motherfucker here.
Chapter Six
Bryn
Brodie sat next to me at dinner, his arm draped over the back of my chair nearly the entire time. We giggled over the frosted pink tablecloths dotted with crimson hearts, snorted through the toast from the best man, and nearly fell on the floor when Max smooshed layers of hot pink fondant in my sister’s face. She deserved it.
The best part was that Brodie acted like the doting boyfriend. He played his role well, I’ll give him that. I actually almost began to believe him.
Almost began to believe that he really liked me and that I could see myself falling for someone like him. And then I remembered what he was paid to do, at least for the next few hours, and I zapped that stubborn little cupid in the ass.
Brodie had slipped his hand at my thigh during the father-daughter dance. I squirmed, nerves humming with arousal as I thought about all the incredible talent Brodie must have acquired as an escort. They certainly didn’t hire inexperienced people for that job. I could only imagine the skin of his heavy hands moving along my body, the way he’d whisper in my ear all the nasty things he wanted to do to me. Maybe he was into kinky stuff—spankings, whips, daddy play. Who knew… But suddenly the possibility of exploring every fantasy I’d ever had felt intoxicating. Like an opportunity too thrilling to pass up. He made me feel reckless, wild desire.
Brodie’s fingers inched higher up my inner thigh, and my breath rocketed up another notch.
“You must be trying to kill me,” I breathed through my teeth.
“I want to see you come apart on my hand first.” One long finger connected with the lace of my panties.
“Brodie…” I breathed, clutching at the chair cushion. My nipples pebbled stubbornly under his touch, probably very visible under the flimsy fabric of this dress. One finger slipped under my panties’ edge and touched the searing hot flesh of my pussy. “Oh. God.”
“Sorry, I just can’t shake that I know you from somewhere.” Max, my sister’s new husband, appeared over Brodie’s shoulder. I locked eyes with him, fear and arousal pummeling my system as Brodie turned, his left hand still working between my thighs.
“Not sure where that might be from. Run my own consulting company from home. It’s rare I’m on a jobsite,” Brodie explained smoothly.
“How long have you been dating Bryn?” Max tipped his head, eyes still regarding Brodie with interest.
“Few months now.” Brodie’s finger made contact with my clit, swirling and pressing the little button until I thought I might explode. “Isn’t that right, darling? Met outside of a coffee shop in the Financial District.”
I nearly choked on my tongue. I was so fucking close to cumming I thought I might clamp down on my own tongue. And then punch Brodie square in the throat. The way his fingers worked me, the way he carried on the conversation as if his hand wasn’t about to make me cum…
I didn’t know if I could take it.
Brodie was frying my brain cells.
Rendering me mindless.
Hot.
So. Close. To…
“What’d you say your last name was, Brodie?” Max pushed the topic further.
Brodie pinched my clit between his thumb and finger, my muscles splitting off in every direction as stars shot through every dark corner of my brain. I clamped down on my lips as my breaths burned in my lungs and sex poured through my veins. “Merrick. Brodie Merrick.”
I clutched at Brodie’s wrist under the crisp white linen covering the table, my eyes slowly opening.
“Brodie Merrick…” Max glanced at me. “You related to Danny Merrick?”
Brodie’s eyes shot up, his hand slipping out of my panties and threading with mine. “Yes, that’s my brother.”
Max’s eyes rounded in shock before he nodded. “Yeah, maybe we were introduced through him. Long time ago. Looks like the song’s about to end, so I should get back up there.”
Brodie nodded, watching as Max turned and sauntered away, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“You asshole!” I whispered to Brodie.
“Feel good?” His hand squeezed my knee, a cocky grin eating up his face.
“So good I don’t know if I should kiss you or slap you.” He laughed, pulling my chair a little closer to him. “What do you think Max was talking about?”
“No idea.” Brodie shrugged and pulled our linked hands out from under the table, pressing my knuckles to his lips and placing a soft kiss there. “Mm…love the smell of you on my fingers.”
I could feel the blush creeping up my face.
The way my nipples tightened.
The way he made butterflies crash into my ribcage.
If this is what a date with Brodie felt like, I would soon be addicted.
Warm words washed across my skin. “Let’s take a walk.”
“Okay,” I
replied, rising from my seat.
Chapter Seven
Brodie
As soon as Bryn and I were around the corner and immersed in darkness, I pulled her against my body, trapping her between myself and the wall of the house. “You’ve been tempting me all night. I can’t seem to keep my hands off you, Bryn.”
Her breaths came out hard and fast.
“Your sweet little nipples have been playing peekaboo with me in this dress all night. Tell me, did you dress like a little cocktease at your sister’s wedding for me?” I pressed my lips to hers, tangling our tongues together. With little licks, she submitted to my touch.
Exactly as I knew she would.
I could see the submission coming off her in waves all night. She put up a brave, very strong independent woman front, but she wanted to be taken. Cared for. Claimed.
“I can’t wait to taste you, pretty girl.” I pushed a hand down the front of her dress, pressing between her thighs and sliding two fingers through the dampness of her delicious pussy. I teased her hot little bud before gripping her hips and spinning her around. “I’d love to see you on all fours, ass propped in the air, bite marks on your ass cheeks. I want to hear you beg for me to own you, fuck you when I want. Whenever and wherever I want.”
I propped her ass in the air, planted her hands on the wall of the house, and dropped to my knees. Sliding my palms up the backs of her thighs, a shudder coursed through her. “You want that, princess?”
A soft moan fell from her lips. I pushed the fabric of the dress over her hips and feasted my eyes on her lush creamy ass for the first time. “Let me hear you, Bryn.”
I swatted at her ass, enjoying the way she jumped and yelped. “Yes, please. I want it. I want you, Brodie.”
“That’s a girl.” I hooked a finger in the elastic of the sexy red lacy panties. “Tell me, sweetheart, you buy these for me like you did the fuck-me heels?”