Like Silk

by Mary Lynn Baxter

“Say that with more conviction, dammit! If anyone gets wind of this, you’re screwed in more ways than one.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Collier lashed back.

  Kyle drove his hands through his short hair, forcing it on end. He looked like a porcupine. Any other time, the picture he portrayed would have garnered a chuckle. Not today. Collier was fresh out of chuckles.

  “Look, let’s both settle down,” Kyle suggested, “and think this through rationally. Does anyone else know about her? About the affair?”

  “Not to my knowledge. Unless—” He aborted his words.

  Kyle stiffened. “Unless what?”

  “Unless she told someone, which I doubt she did.”

  “If that’s the case, then you’re home free. As long as you stay away from her, that is.”

  “What choice do I have?” Collier responded bleakly.

  “None,” Kyle emphasized. He paused. “Have you considered the possibility she might decide to blackmail you, since you’ve dropped her like—” He stopped, as if he’d been about to step on a grenade.

  Like a piece of trailer trash, Collier added silently, sick to his stomach. “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Are you sure?”

  The tension in the room suddenly swelled along with the tension inside his chest. “Dead sure,” Collier muttered harshly. “So drop it.”

  “Not a problem. But just to be on the safe side, I suggest you make it a point to be seen in public with Lana, even kiss some babies like the senator suggested.”

  “Next you’ll be telling me to set a date with Lana,” Collier said with intended sarcasm.

  “Not a bad idea.” Kyle’s normally stoic face brightened. “In fact, I think that would probably nail the bench for you, especially since her old man has almost godlike status among the party’s rank and file.”

  When Collier didn’t respond, Kyle went on. “Tell me you’ll think about it, at least.”

  “Okay, I’ll think about it,” Collier said in a dull tone, turning his back on Kyle and staring outside with unseeing eyes.

  The door closing alerted him that he was finally alone. He slumped against the wall.

  Twenty-Four

  The frozen dinner she’d popped into the microwave tasted like sawdust. Making a face, Brittany forced herself to take one more bite before getting up from the couch and discarding the remains of her meal. She wasn’t hungry, but she should be. She’d had a glass of orange juice and a muffin early that morning, and nothing since.

  Since her last visit with Tommy, her stomach had been perpetually upset. As long as her brother remained incarcerated, she didn’t see that changing. However, this evening her queasiness stemmed more from emotional upheaval than lack of food.

  Even now, several days after that traumatic visit, she was at home, listening to the rain pound the roof, unable to wipe their conversation from her mind. Rather than dwell on spilled milk, she had a million other things to do—mainly study. But she couldn’t concentrate. She still found it hard to believe she’d actually confessed to Tommy. That confession and its repercussion haunted her relentlessly.

  She had no idea what had possessed her to blurt that out. Just thinking about that moment robbed her of her next breath. Guilt. She supposed that had been the driving force behind such insanity. Tommy was the last person she would ever have planned to confide in. In fact, she hadn’t planned on confiding in anyone. It was to have been her best-kept secret.

  More mind-boggling had been his reaction. She’d expected him to lash out at her, to be furious with her for betraying him, for joining the ranks of the enemy. Instead he’d wanted her to use the affair to help himself.

  What a guy.

  Sarcasm didn’t help. Nothing helped. Brittany closed her eyes and rubbed them. She’d tried to delete that awful time from her mind, but she couldn’t. Like the Energizer bunny, it went on and on.

  When Tommy had praised her for getting involved with Collier, she’d been so shocked, so outraged, that she’d remained mute while every ounce of blood drained from her face. All she’d been able to do was stare at him, her mouth open.

  “I take it you don’t agree.” His tone had reeked of hostility. “Hell, you look like I just kicked you in the gut.”

  “You did,” she whispered in a strained voice, still trying to come to grips with the bizarre and unexpected turn of events.

  “Can you help me? Will you help me? I don’t believe you can’t see the advantage to me, to you. You’re just being selfish, sis.”

  “Tommy…” Again her voice failed her. How was she supposed to respond to such self-centeredness, such total self-absorption? Granted, he was desperate, but this insanity went far beyond that.

  “Hell, just forget it,” Tommy said with disgust, his knuckles whitening around the receiver. “I thought I could count on you for anything, anytime. It looks like I was wrong.”

  Wounded by his unfair words, Brittany groped to defend herself. But it was hard to collect her thoughts when she was still reeling from shock. What kind of twisted mind could have come up with such a plan? The answer to that question was too frightening to pursue.

  Yet she couldn’t afford to ignore it. His behavior had to be faced and dealt with. The idea that her affair with Collier could benefit him would never have occurred to her. In her wildest imagination, she couldn’t have conjured that up. But then, she wasn’t behind bars, fighting for any hope that would change her situation.

  If anything, her affair with Collier would work to her brother’s disadvantage. For some reason, though, that thought had apparently never occurred to him. Of course, he wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t care about anything except himself. She couldn’t forget that, though she had to assume her share of responsibility. She’d helped make him the way he was.

  “He’s not even speaking to me, Tommy,” she said into the lengthy silence.

  He gave a start. “So you’re not sleeping with him anymore?”

  Brittany flinched at his blunt wording before gritting her teeth and saying, “No, I’m not.”

  He glared at her. “What happened?”

  “I told him you were my brother. That’s what happened.” She gave that statement time to soak in before she added, “So you see, your idea that he’d choose me over his family is not only ludicrous, it’s just not true.”

  “Aw, hell,” Tommy muttered. “I thought I’d hit on a gold mine.”

  “You thought wrong,” Brittany said, fury changing the tone of her voice.

  His glare turned to curiosity. “How’d you get hooked up with him in the first place?”

  “That no longer matters,” she replied tightly, fighting the urge to get up and bolt. She didn’t want to talk about Collier. She didn’t want to think about him. It was too painful.

  Tommy continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “That family’s rolling in dough. I would’ve thought he was a bit out of your league.”

  His words cut to the quick, but she ignored them. “Will you just forget I said anything, please?” she demanded, her suppressed fury boiling over. “Like I said, it no longer matters.”

  “It does to me. There still might be a way—”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Brittany interrupted harshly, her impatience winning out over her frayed nerves. “Collier Smith is history.”

  “There’s nothing you can do to plead my case, to make him see that I was set up?”

  Despite the ever-present desperation in his voice, enough was enough. She gave her head a violent shake. “No, Tommy. No! Forget it. It’s not going to happen.”

  Tommy’s lips formed a thin, bitter line. Suddenly his face brightened and he snapped his fingers. “Hey, I got it! If he’s out of the picture, then how ’bout trying to get some bucks out of him?”

  “As in blackmail?” Brittany screeched, horror washing through her.

  “Yeah, why not?” His voice was revved. He was revved. “What have you got to lose? If he’s dumped you, why not
go for his jugular? Hell, I bet he’d rather fork over than let himself and that highfalutin firm be dragged through the mud in a scandal. At least it’s worth a try.”

  “For god’s sake, Tommy!” she exclaimed. “Listen to yourself. That’s sick. You were raised better than that.”

  His features turned mean. “You just don’t give a shit.”

  “I’m not even going to respond to that.”

  “Then it looks like I’ll continue to rot in this stinking hellhole.”

  Before Brittany could make a comeback, the guard indicated that their time was up. With a heavy but at the same time grateful heart, she rose. Tommy rose, as well, then turned his back without so much as saying goodbye.

  By the time she reached her car, she was shaking all over.

  Now, as she forced her mind back to her surroundings, she listened to the thunder boom, forcing her mind off that horrifying conversation.

  However, there was no rest for the weary. Her thoughts switched to Collier, which was equally disturbing. Her heart suddenly felt like a chunk of lead in her chest. Shivering despite the warmth of the room, Brittany reached for the afghan and covered herself.

  Shivering again, Brittany wrapped the coverlet tighter. She ought to consider going to bed. With this being Friday, tomorrow would be a long day. She had to work at the travel agency and the diner. She would be at the diner until midnight or later if she had to stay and help clean up.

  Brittany had tossed back the afghan when she heard the knock. She froze outwardly, though her insides turned to putty. Collier? Her thumping heart suddenly rivaled her melting insides. If it was him, how did she feel about that?

  She scrambled off the sofa, stood, and took several deep breaths. Then she moved hastily toward the door where she flipped on the porch light.

  “It’s Collier.”

  His tone sounded muffled, either from the chill or the blinding rain. With that in mind, she didn’t hesitate, opening the door and stepping aside. Wordlessly he crossed the threshold and instantly shed his wet topcoat, letting it fall to the floor.

  Brittany moistened her lips and waited, speech impossible.

  “I know I shouldn’t be here,” he said in a tormented voice. “I know that sounds like a broken record, but…I couldn’t stay away.” He drew a harsh, ragged breath, his gaze locked on hers.

  “What do you want me to say?” Brittany responded in a whisper, every nerve ending in her body on fire and screaming for relief that only he could provide.

  “Please, just don’t send me away.”

  He made no effort to mask the pleading note in his voice. That fact alone rendered her breathless, as though she were suddenly smothering. Demanding he leave would be the rational, smart thing to do, but when it came to this man, all rationality fled. She wanted him, and he wanted her. At the moment, nothing else seemed to matter.

  “Oh, Collier,” she cried softly, tears gathering in her eyes.

  “Brittany, don’t cry. I’d cut my heart out before I’d hurt you. But I know that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He paused, his eyes more delving, more tortured, than ever. “Forgive me, but—”

  Another muted cry escaped her lips, and her arms reached out. Then she was in his, held tightly against his pounding heart, her fingers digging into the back of his neck.

  For a brief time they simply clung to each other. Then, with heat flaring in his eyes, Collier took her lips in a frantic, driven kiss that made her tremble with anticipation and longing.

  “God, Brittany,” he whispered against her lips, his fingers undoing her robe. When they came in contact with her bare flesh, her breath caught, especially when he cupped her buttocks and pulled her against his erection, moving up and down, creating a friction that made her instantly wet.

  He seemed to sense that, running a finger down the crease in her buttocks to the hot warmth between her legs.

  She cried out, feeling as if he’d torched her insides with that erotic move. Only after he eased that same finger inside her, sensing she was about to climax, did he make another move, a more dramatic one.

  Silently, and without taking his heated gaze off her, he removed his finger, clamped down once again on her buttocks and lifted her. Instinctively her legs circled his waist at the same time he unzipped his pants. Seconds later, he entered her with one hard thrust.

  “Oh,” she cried out, her lips seeking his.

  Two harder thrusts later, they both groaned, then held each other in weakened relief.

  Remaining inside her, he immediately carried her to the bed. In that same frantic mode, he removed his clothing along with her robe and joined her—flesh against flesh.

  “It’s my turn,” Brittany whispered, pushing him back onto the bed and leaning over him, taking him into her mouth, tasting herself on him.

  “Oh, sweet baby,” he moaned, fondling her breasts while her mouth made him hard once again. When she sensed he couldn’t take any more without coming in her mouth, she raised a leg and guided him inside her.

  With him nestled high and hard in her, she moved back and forth, creating a friction that threatened to take the top of her head off. She knew he felt the same way as his glazed eyes rolled back in his head as he emptied himself inside her once again.

  She must have fallen asleep, for when she awakened, she was on her back and his head was between her legs. This time he was tasting her. Another wave of heat washed through her, only to intensify when she realized his tongue had taken the place of his erection, stroking in and out of her warmth at leisure.

  Her hips bucked as she thrashed on the bed, finally grabbing a handful of his hair, thinking she would surely die from this sweet assault on her body. She hadn’t thought she could climax again, but she was wrong. He only had to touch her and she was wet, ready, aching for more.

  Because she knew this might be the last time she saw him, Brittany let herself go, basking in the exquisite pleasure of his mouth and tongue. Her sharp cry rent the air just as he entered her.

  Flesh into flesh, and they became one. Again.

  Twenty-Five

  How could he let her go?

  Collier peered down at Brittany, who was nestled close against him, sleeping peacefully. He knew he should leave. It would soon be daylight. Yet he didn’t move, didn’t want to disturb the euphoria that surrounded them.

  The smell of sex filled his nostrils. It had been a night of marathon lovemaking. He’d had no idea he could come that often, and with the same intensity each time. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Brittany had wrung him inside out from the first time he’d seen her. One look and he’d been a goner.

  Neither time nor circumstances had changed that. Emotions he couldn’t begin to identify charged through him as he continued to stare at her perfect profile, listen to her gentle breathing, all the while fighting off the urge to turn her over, ease her legs apart and take her once again.

  Even though he felt himself grow rod-hard, he didn’t disturb her. She was bound to be exhausted, since she’d put as much energy into their lovemaking as he had. Besides, he figured she had a long day facing her, especially since she had to finish it off working late at the diner.

  He frowned, suddenly cursing the thought of her going back to that place, enduring the verbal abuse that went along with the job. Collier lowered his gaze to the hand that had been injured. It was outside the sheet, giving him clear access. It had healed nicely on the top, though he would bet that underneath the skin, it was still tender. For a second he was tempted to lean over and kiss it.

  Instead he remained unmoving, though his mind continued on a roll. Maybe he could help her find another job, one more suitable to her personality and needs. Hell, what did he know about her needs? he asked himself scornfully. Outside the bed, he didn’t know much about her.

  Except that her brother was responsible for ruining his brother’s life.

  Beautiful.

  His chest suddenly tightened. He lifted his head as though he was smothering. If
it weren’t for Jackson he’d… What? Continue to see her? Stop hiding the fact he was sleeping with her? Yes. No.

  Collier’s jaw clenched. He felt frustrated enough to bite a ten-penny nail in two. He wasn’t the only one in this equation. He still had his family, his job, his obligations, to consider. His life was planned, for chrissake, and that plan didn’t include sharing it with a woman from the wrong side of the tracks.

  Even though he despised himself for that snobbish thought, it was the truth. Yet in his heart, he knew that didn’t really matter. To some extent, it was just a copout. The truth was, he was scared shitless of Brittany and her ability to turn him inside out, to make him lose sight of what was important to him.

  Since he’d met her on that lonely stretch of road, his life hadn’t been the same. He was beginning to fear it never would be again.

  However, the thought of bringing her out of the closet, so to speak—he winced inwardly at that terminology—and introducing her to Mason and Jackson was too overwhelming to contemplate.

  Suddenly his conversation with Kyle jumped to mind. If he ever made his vow to stay away from her stick, would she turn vindictive? The hair lifted on the back of his neck but only for a moment. Then he relaxed. No. He was holding firm to his gut instinct. Regardless of what happened between them, Brittany was not that kind of woman.

  Lana. What about her? She remained on the outer fringes, niggling at his conscience, wanting more than he was prepared to give. He couldn’t entirely blame her for that. He’d been content to pacify her, to go along with her demands.

  Until Brittany.

  Now he was playing in a different ballpark. His gaze rested on Brittany once again, and he felt a giant squeeze on his heart.

  Had he fallen in love? Panic gripped him, tightening that squeeze. How could he even think such a thing? He didn’t know her well enough to love her. Their relationship was based on pure lust, nothing more. Suddenly his panic subsided.

  His constant ache for Brittany would pass, he told himself. Soon he would tire of her.