Crashing Down: Silver Tongued Devils Series Book 4

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Crashing Down: Silver Tongued Devils Series Book 4 Page 6

by Samantha Conley


  “Do you know how to two-step, darlin’?”

  “Yeah but it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do any of that fancy stuff,” I reply, eyes wide watching the other dancers. Some of the women are coming dangerously close to hitting their heads on the floor when dipped over their partner’s arm. “I can’t do that.“

  “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” The heat of his gaze lets me know it may be more than just a dance he wants to show me. We start off slow with just the basics, quick, quick, slow, slow but as the song progresses he twirls me around. I’m grinning so hard that my cheeks ache and I'm breathless with exertion. As the song ends, I’m handed off from Adam to another brother as the band rolls into its next song.

  “And which one are you?” I laugh as we move with the crowd.

  “I’m Liam,” he replies, his voice a fraction less deep than his brother's.

  “And where do you fall into the pecking order?” His blue eyes hold more laughter than his brother's as he smiles down at me.

  “I’m the second oldest.”

  “Are we taking turns from oldest to youngest here?” I laugh having more fun than I can remember in a long time, even if it is harmless flirting. These guys are way out of my league.

  “It’s usually the way it is, otherwise we end up having a fistfight. Our mother frowns on those.”

  Another turn around, the floor and I’m feeling my dancing legs, the steps coming more fluidly, and I don’t feel like a newborn colt when they spin me around. I think I like it best though when he presses me close to his body, his thin shirt does not hide all the muscles concealed beneath. My subconscious wants me to rub my hand all over that hard body. My face heats with the direction of my thoughts and I bury my face in his shoulder. Pull yourself together, Skylar. As the last chords of the guitar die off, Liam walks me back to the table. Zane hands me an unopened bottle of water.

  “I thought you’d be thirsty, so I got you water. What else would you like to drink?” It’s almost too cute the eagerness he displays as if he’s worried that I will forget him now that his brothers are around

  “Do you think they would have Sam Adams Summer ale?” When I ask for a beer four sets of dark brows arch in surprise. I guess they expected me to order a girly cocktail.

  Zane stands, knocking his chair back on two legs in his haste. “I’ll check to see if they do. If not what else would you like?”

  “Bud Light will work,” I reply. The words barely cross my lips before he’s headed toward the bar.

  “Zane tells me you all work in construction, the family business.”

  “That’s right. We’d like to keep it in the family.” Adam shoots me a wink. “Liam and I are architects. Evan handles our accounting. And Noah and Zane are our engineers. Or at least they will be. We gotta make sure Zane makes it through school.”

  ”You sure don’t look like I would’ve thought an architect would,” I murmur under my breath.

  “Just how do you expect an architect to look, darlin’?” Liam asks with a little chuckle. My face heats when I realize they heard what I said. Damn me and my big mouth.

  “Not so, umm, big?” I squeak. My embarrassment earns hoots all around the table.

  “Honey, don’t worry about that. We’re all very hands-on,” Evan replies with a smirk. “We don’t have to hit the gym. Hauling lumber, moving bricks and stones and all that good stuff keeps us in great shape. Keeps up the stamina too.” A lecherous grin crosses his face and I feel myself melt into a pool of goo and I wonder if I’m going to slide off the chair under the table.

  A few minutes pass by and there’s still no sign of Zane and Evan takes his turn. The dance is fast and furious around the floor. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I feel an intense gaze focused on my back. I try to find who is staring at me, but Evan has us going so fast I can’t focus long enough. The song ends, and a much slower song comes on as Noah claims his dance.

  “I think a slower song is just what you need, Sky. Is it okay if I call you Sky?” Noah holds me at a respectable distance, something his brothers didn’t worry about.

  “It’s fine. Usually, when I’m getting called Skylar, I’m getting in trouble,” I murmur.

  “How long have you lived here?” he asks as he leads us around the floor, just the quick, quick, slow, slow and none of the acrobatics his brothers threw in, allowing me to catch my breath.

  “A few months,” I reply glancing over his shoulders as my gaze locks with an intense pair of brown eyes. That’s the gaze I had been feeling. I’ll never forget the intensity from the first time we met in the grocery store. He’s sitting at a table with an older man, a bottle of beer wrapped in his hands. The world seems to disappear as my sole focus is on him, my feet moving by rote. Another couple moves into my line of vision and our stare breaks.

  “Sky, Sky, are you okay?” Noah asks with concern.

  “Oh yeah. Sorry. I just saw someone I thought I might know,” I stammer.

  “Where at? Do you want to go say hi?”

  “Um no that’s okay,” I rush to reply. “He’s sitting at a table with an older guy.”

  As we make a turn Noah glances in the direction of the guy's table. His body tenses. “Black shirt, dark hair?” He glances down at me, worry clouding his eyes.

  “Yeah, I think that’s what he was wearing,” I answer, nonchalant, hoping he gets the hint to drop it. No such luck.

  “Well, the older gentleman is Jake Ingles. He owns this bar, and the one sitting with him is his nephew, Brett. Where do you him know from?”

  ”I ran into him at the grocery store. I mean literally ran into him. I wasn’t paying attention and our carts crashed into each other.”

  “Oh, so you haven’t been introduced?” His body relaxes a fraction. “He’s not a bad guy. He’s just got a history of being a player. Just watch yourself but he’s a good guy…mostly. Just be careful.” He glances down at me, his eyes full of concern. It feels strange coming from someone I just met a couple of hours ago.

  “Don’t worry,” I assure him. “Nothing will come of it anyway.”

  A few dances later and after two beers I’m wearing down, my brown cowboy boots are chafing. Zane had pulled a vanishing act after a pretty little brunette came up and whispered in his ear and he had dragged her onto the dance floor. All the exertion was catching up with me.

  “Excuse me guys, can you point me toward the ladies’ room?” I push back the chair.

  “Yeah, darlin’, it’s back in the corner off to the right. Go down the hallway and it’s the second door.” Cautiously I make my way through the crowd, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. The hallway is dimly lit but the sign that reads cowgirls is easily discernible. As I push open the door I hear a noise, like something falling on the floor, from further down the hall. Curiosity gets the best of me. I walk closer to the door that’s open just a crack as a rhythmic thumping as if something is hitting a wall, breaks over the din of the music. I push open the door and it swings on well-oiled hinges. The noise makes sense now as I take in a muscular male with a set of legs wrapped around his waist, jeans pushed below his sculpted ass as he pounds the girl into the wall. Neither has noticed me as her head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open on a silent scream as her nails dig into his back. I move to take a step back to afford them some privacy and instead collide with a warm body.

  Breath fans across my ear as a deep voice whispers, “I never took you for a voyeur. “

  My muscles lock, my breath freezes in my chest as I recognize the voice like melted chocolate. The man who haunts more dreams than I can count since I ran into him. Brett. His arms locked around my waist as he pulls me against him and I can only assume that he is staring into the room watching the same show I am. My breath quickens as the growing proof of his arousal presses into my lower back. After a few seconds, my brain comes back online, and I try to push back against him to move us out of the doorway. I’m not sure if he tak
es my struggle the way I intended as one of his hands reaches up, brushing the underside of my breast as if waiting for me to push him away before cupping the heavy weight in his large hand.

  “I can just picture it. Me holding you to the wall like that. My dick driving deep in that sweet pussy. Two strangers in a dark room. Would you like that?” He tweaks my nipple and a spark of electricity travels through me.

  “Yes,” I breathe out surprising myself. His other hand travels from my waist to the bottom of my skirt as he slowly slides his hand up. When he reaches my boy shorts, he taps his finger against my thigh, garnering my attention for a moment before his fingers delve under the elastic, sliding between my lower lips gathering moisture. He unerringly finds my clit and rubs his finger around the hard nub. Biting my lip, I hold back my moan.

  “So freaking wet. Don’t take your eyes off them. Just imagine it’s me.” With those words, one thick finger slides into my core. When I clench around him, he groans into my neck before nipping the skin.

  “So tight. Just imagining you clamping down on my dick has me ready to blow in my jeans.” He withdraws his finger, then pushes back in with more force over and over until I can’t stop the soft moans spilling from my mouth. Through heavy lids I still see the stranger in the room working his hips, driving the girl higher and higher. The same way Brett’s doing me. His hand leaves my breast to cover my mouth, muffling the sounds I didn’t even realize I was making. He takes his thumb and flicks my clit hard. My body flies apart at the same time the girl screams out, “Zane!”

  With her scream reverberating throughout the room, he pulls his hand out from under my skirt smoothing it back down my thighs as he backs us out of the doorway. Turning to face him, I am once again caught in the force of his molten gaze. His hand reaches up, brushing away the hair from the side of my face before placing his lips on mine, stealing my breath. The kiss could’ve lasted a second, a minute or an hour as my whole consciousness focuses on the feel of his lips on mine, his hand on my face. As he pulls back, his warm breath fans across my cheek as his strong arms pull me to his chest. I bury my face in the soft cloth, trying to catch my breath, to slow the furious beating of my heart. At least I’m not the only one. I can feel his pounding in his chest. A moment later, I hear Zane whistling as he exits the room we are standing by not paying us a lick of attention. I can only imagine the shit eating grin on his face as he makes his way back to his brothers. Probably to brag about his latest conquest. The image of him having sex is burned into my brain. It’ll take everything in me not to picture his naked ass the next time I see him.

  A rustling noise to my left draws my attention as I see the girl fixing her shirt as she walks out of the room. Her eyes lock on Brett as she gropes her breasts, pushing them up like an offering. Really? The girl just got fucked by my friend and now she’s wanting to flirt! What the hell is wrong with people? I lift my head to look at Brett to see he’s just looking down at me oblivious to the show she's putting on. Which mollifies me somewhat. Not getting the attention she seeks she passes us by with a frown and I back out of his arms.

  “Excuse me,” I stammer, turning and walking into the ladies’ room, the door shutting with an anticlimactic swish behind me. My legs almost give way as I lean against the heavy wooden door. What the fuck are you doing, Skylar? Embarrassment floods through my body, my stomach clenches with anxiety as the severity of what just happened becomes clear now that the haze of pleasure has lifted. How in the world am I gonna go back out there?

  7

  Brett

  Leaning back against the wall, I try to catch my breath as the magnitude of what happened hits me. When I locked eyes with the girl on the dance floor, my heart stuttered. She’s been haunting my dreams ever since I saw her in the grocery store. In a city this size I never thought I’d see her again. Much less in my uncle’s bar. Dancing with a damn Calloway of all things. Don’t get me wrong. Noah is a good guy. Maybe it’s just the thought of any man having their hands wrapped around her that makes these feelings of possessiveness and jealousy course through me. As she slipped away off the dance floor, I saw my opportunity and took it. Consequences be damned. Ambushing her outside the bathroom may not have been the brightest idea I’ve ever come up with, but it was the only way I knew I could get her alone.

  When I saw her standing in the doorway, I couldn’t help but get as close as possible. Peeking over her shoulder into the shadowy room, the scene playing out before us had her riveted attention. Blood pounded through my veins, my cock hardened seeing the couple ravishing each other. I didn’t realize it was Zane and one of his latest conquests at first, but I should’ve. It’s not like the horny little bastard hasn’t used the back room before for a quickie. What I didn’t expect was the way her eyes were locked on the act, her breathing erratic, the pulse pounding in her neck. The most natural thing in the world seemed to be to gather her against me. The tension in her body, the way her breath hitched when my thumb brushed the underside of her breast was a clue that this wasn’t her normal. Any second I expected her to push me away with a disgusted look or a slap across the face. Neither came. Palming her breast, the large globe fit in my large palm. I’ll never forget the softness of her skin under my palm when I slid my hand along the softness of her thigh, teasing the edge of her shorts. She lifted her hips closer in eagerness. If there had been any hesitation I would’ve stopped. But the trembling of her thighs encouraged me when my fingers slid under the soft material to find her skin soft and wet and for a second, I thought I found heaven. When her legs quaked, she dug her nails into my thighs, the sharpness blunted by my jeans. Her pussy clenching around my finger had my cock throbbing behind the denim, balls drawing up tight. Her silky sheath gripped my finger so tight I wondered if I’d be able to move it again as I prayed I wouldn’t come in my jeans. A rush of wetness eased my fear of hurting her as I withdrew and pushed back in hard. She was biting her lip so hard I wondered if she would draw blood as little mewls escaped her lips. With each thrust the cries became louder until I had to cover her mouth with my hand as to not draw attention from the couple she was watching. It took everything within me to hold back my release as her pussy clamped down and shudders wracked her body as her orgasm struck.

  When her body calmed I turned her around to face me, her hazel eyes heavy lidded with pleasure as she blinked up at me. The most important thing in the world seemed to kiss her to feel those petal soft lips on mine. And when our lips touched all I could feel was the fireworks. Never have I been staggered by a kiss. Not even Kristen. Turned on, horny, you bet. This was different. Now I feel like a stalker waiting outside the bathroom for her to reemerge. I glanced at my watch. She’s had to have been in there at least five minutes. After ten minutes I return to my table, my uncle given me the side eye before ordering another beer. I angle my chair, so I can keep an eye on the hallway to catch her when she comes out. Another five minutes pass without a sign, and my worry increases. Maybe I should have someone go in there and check on her. Just as I’m about to ask my uncle to send someone, I see her brush past someone heading for the door. Her steps are quick, her eyes downcast as she makes her way through the crowd. Oh hell no. I jump out of my seat after her, but the sheer number of people slow my steps, hindering my progress. As I push open the heavy glass door to go outside, the only thing I see is her shutting the door to the taxi. Our eyes meet through the glass for a second before the car pulls away. Dammit! I resist the urge to chase after her like Dennis Quaid did Meg Ryan in whatever the hell that movie was. And fuck me I still don’t know her name. The door opens behind me and the crunching of footsteps on gravel alerts me that I'm not alone.

  “Hey, Brett, did you see a petite brunette come out here?” Zane asks, slapping a hand on my back.

  “Yeah, she got in a taxi.”

  “What the hell? She didn’t even tell me she was leaving.” Before he finishes the sentence, he’s pulling his phone from his pocket. “At least she sent me a text letting me know she�
�s going home. I wonder what the hell happened,” Zane ponders running his hand through his hair, a bewildered look on his face. There’s no way in hell I am letting him know what happened.

  “Who is she?” I ask trying to keep my face neutral, so he won’t see my interest but when he narrows his eyes I know I failed.

  “Skylar,” he says before narrowing his eyes. “Just a girl. No need for you to worry. She’s not your type anyway,” he mutters.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “She’s not the type you play with, man. She's not the easy type you go for.”

  “That’s pretty fucking presumptuous, Zane. You don’t know shit.” Turning to go back into the bar, I bump into his shoulder, knocking him off balance. “Just mind your own fucking business, Zane.”

  As soon as I reached the table I grab my bottle of beer downing half in one big gulp.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Jake barks.

  “Nothing.” I grumble.

  “Nothing? Somehow, I don’t believe that bullshit. You lit out of here like your ass was on fire.”

  “Just thought I recognized someone I hadn’t seen in a while.”

  “A girl?”

  "Maybe."

  “You know, son, for a while there I was worried about you after Kristen. All the drinking and the women put a black mark on your soul. But here lately you've been thinking with a good head, not the little head. And it has done you a world of good. Think about that before you go chasing down some girl you might recognize, think about the direction your life is going. You got my new nephew to think about. Those types of girls are nothing but trouble."

  “She’s not like that. She’s different. Hell," I chuckle. "I’m different too. Don’t drink like I used to except for the occasional beer and I’m not worried about getting laid every night. I can’t even remember the last time I got laid. That’s my choice though. I don’t like who I became after Kristen and I broke up. I had to take a long look in the mirror to see the road I was taking wasn’t the one I wanted to be on. Now I have Colby, I’m gonna make sure I’m on the right path.”

 

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