The Driven Series Boxed Set - Limited Edition (Driven #1-4)

by K. Bromberg

  For being pussy-whipped.

  Neither of us have ever barebacked. Ever. Kind of a silent solidarity we have between us. Neither of us that is, until now.

  “Motherfucker!” Becks jumps up in his seat. “You are, aren’t you, you cocksucker!”

  “Shut the fuck up, Beckett.” I growl as I toss back the rest of my beer and raise my empty shot glass up to Connie who hasn’t stopped waiting attentively five feet away. Becks just sits and looks at me in silence until the newest round of shots are placed in front of us. I sit and stare back at him a while longer and let my comment settle between us, get comfortable rolling the idea around in my head…and then it hits me.

  Hell yes, I want Ry to go with us. Now what the fuck does that mean? I throw back the shot, hissing at its burn before scrubbing my hand over my face as numbness spreads into my lips. Beckett keeps looking at me like I’m some kind of circus show freak. I can tell he’s biting his cheek to keep from grinning at me, from saying the shit that’s flying through his eyes at a lightning pace.

  He holds his hand up to his ear and leans over the table. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. What was your answer?”

  I can’t help the grin that pulls up one corner of my mouth. This is being tame for Beckett, so I’m grateful that he’s keeping himself in check against my obvious discomfort.

  “No shit!” he says, shifting in his chair to stare at me for a little while longer with disbelief on his face. He looks down at his watch. “Well, if we’re going to take off on time, loverboy, we best be going.”

  “That’s all you’re going to say?” I ask incredulously.

  “I haven’t even started yet, Wood! I need time to process…it’s not every day Hell falls below zero.”

  Fine by me. If I can get away with only that being said right now, I’ll take it. I nod my head at him and start typing away on my phone. “I’m texting Sammy to come get us.” I tell him. The background music in the bar is playing, and I laugh at the fucking song playing. Of course it’s Pink. Rylee and her fucking Pink. I send my text to Sammy and then hover over her name on my phone. Before I know it, I’ve entered a quick one to Rylee as well.

  I’m in this far, might as well go balls deep.

  “IS THERE A REASON SAMMY is driving in the opposite direction of the airport?”

  I need another beer. Need something to help numb the nonsense in my head telling me I really want this. Want her.

  Fucking Rylee.

  “I’m not that drunk. I do know the difference between east and west,” Becks says as he tips his own bottle back again. “You can’t pull one over on me.”

  “She’s got a hot friend,” I repeat, hoping the idea will shut him the fuck up and let me enjoy my buzz.

  “Her ass better be fucking blazing and her tits better be perfection if you’re actually dragging women—walking vaginas—to Vegas with us … land of free-balling, free-wheeling, The Hangover fucked-upness. Seriously, dude? You’ve lost your fucking marbles. Or handed over your balls.” He shrugs with a chuckle. “They’re about the same size.”

  “Fuck off, Daniels.” I grunt at him as I lay my head back, the black interior of the limo all starting to fuse together as it spins like a fucking car doing donuts on the track.

  Or the Tilt-A-Whirl at the carnival with Rylee.

  How I wouldn’t like to take her for a spin right now.

  “Fucker? Are you listening to me?” Becks’s voice breaks through my thoughts. The ones Rylee commandeers even when she’s not even around.

  “Yeah, what?” I angle my head over so that I can see him. “I was just thinking about … stuff.”

  “Dude, get the voodoo pussy out of your head for a second.”

  “Becks, there’s nothing more I’d like right now than to have my head in her wet, willing voodoo.”

  “You are a disappointment to all men! Not only did you break the no barebacking pact, but you are fucking grinning about it.”

  “I need another beer if I have to listen to your whiny ass. Shit, we’re going to the City of Sin and I’m putting a hottie on your arm … so quit your bitching, pact broken or not.”

  “I know you’re riding without a saddle now because it’s obviously fucking with your head,” he says, holding up his hands to stop the retort he knows from years of friendship is on my tongue. The one about how much I want one of my two heads fucked with.

  “Really chaps your hide, doesn’t it,” I say, fighting the laugh I want to release because fuck, even if I’m well on my way to getting drunk, I still know that was pretty damn witty.

  “Fucking hilarious,” he says sarcastically, shaking his head. “Sooooo … how are you going to handle Vegas with a chick on your arm?”

  I’m instantly irritated at the comment. And now I’m wondering why. What is it about what Becks says that angers me?

  “Don’t look at me like that!” he says, and I can tell he’s getting into Becks-knows-all mode. Fuck! I so don’t need this right now. “Vegas is usually a flesh feast, so tell me how that’s going to go over with Wonder-Rylee there? Did you think of that, cowboy?”

  I close my eyes and emit a sliver of a laugh. “The only all-you-can-eat-buffet I’ll be fucking dining at will be Ry’s Thighs.” I quirk my eyebrows up at him, challenge given. Got a comeback to that one now, fucker? “Besides, I wouldn’t doubt she’d throw down if someone got in her way. She fights for what’s hers.”

  And the words are out there before I can fucking take them back. Goddamn alcohol in my brain.

  “What’s hers? Did you just officially acknowledge—admit—what-the-fuck-ever that you’re taken?” Becks spits out his beer. “Stop the car, Sammy!” he yells.

  The limo swerves quickly to the side of the road and stops with a jerk. I know Sammy thinks Becks is gonna hurl. Did he really drink that fucking much? Lightweight.

  Becks opens the door beside him and climbs out. “Hey, Wood?”

  I’m confused by the amusement in his voice when he’s supposed to be getting sick. “Yeah?” I ask as I angle my head out to look at him, beer in hand, lights from passing cars flashing over his face.

  “Feel that?” he says, lifting his face up to the sky. “That’s the fucking arctic chill right there!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s starting to ruin my buzz here so I’m getting pissed.

  “Dude, you’re barebacking, we’re taking chicks to Vegas with us, and that has to mean Hell is most definitely freezing over. What in the fuck is this world coming to?”

  I just shake my head at him. “Get in the car, Beckett. If I’m gonna be around a pussy, it sure as fuck needs to be one I can get enjoyable use out of … and you, my friend, are being one but hell if I’d enjoy you.”

  He slides in the car next to me and just stares at me, a smirk on his mouth and amusement in his eyes.

  Me and my fucking mouth.

  “Okay, Sam, we’re good to go!” Becks says with a chuckle, and the car starts to take off.

  I open the top of another beer. I think I’m going to need this to deal with him tonight. I’m not fucking hers. Becks is just out if his damn mind if he thinks I’m a kept man.

  I’ll tire of her. I always do. Shit, one woman isn’t going to be able to change my MO. There’s not enough game in the world that can change this player.

  We drive for a bit, both of us staring out the window to the world beyond until he finally breaks the silence. “Really?” he asks with a shake of his head, meeting my eyes. And I know what he’s asking. Are you sure? Is she really worth it? Is Rylee really going to Vegas with us?

  Is she the real-deal voodoo?

  I purse my lips for a second and nod my head. “Damn straight, she is.”

  “YOU REALLY SAID THAT TO him?” Haddie asks incredulously, the look on her face over-exaggerated and hilariously funny.

  “I swear!” I told her, holding up my hand in testament. I look down at my phone where a text just pinged. It’s from Colton, and a
ll it says is: Get this Party Started – Pink.

  Haddie doesn’t notice the odd look on my face when I read it because she is concentrating on filing her nails. What the hell? First the text about Matchbox Twenty today, which threw me for a loop, and now this? He’s a little all over the place and a lot confusing.

  “Shit! I’d have loved to see his face when you shut that door.”

  “I know.” I laugh. “It felt kind of good to leave him stunned for once rather than the other way around.”

  “See, I told you!” she says, pushing on my knee.

  “Besides the testosterone fest with Colton, did you and Tanner have a nice visit?”

  “Yeah.” I smile softly. “It was so good to see him. I don’t realize how much I miss him until—” a knock on the door interrupts me. I look over at Haddie, my eyes asking her who could be knocking on our door at seven o’clock on a Friday night.

  “No clue.” She shrugs, getting up to answer it since I have a slew of work papers strewn across my lap and on the couch beside me.

  Moments later I hear laughter and voices and Haddie exclaiming, “Well look what the cat dragged in!”

  Curious, I start to clear my papers when Haddie enters the family room, a broad smile on her face. “Someone’s here to see you,” she says, a knowing look in her eyes.

  Before I can ask her who it is, Colton comes barreling into the room in a less than graceful stride with a laughing Beckett right behind him. Something’s amiss with Colton, and I’m not sure what it is until he sees me. A goofy grin spreads across his face and it looks out of place against the intensity of his features. Luckily, I’m shuffling up my papers because he unceremoniously plops down right beside me.

  “Rylee!” he exclaims enthusiastically as if he hasn’t seen me in weeks. He reaches out, calloused fingers rasping against my bare skin, grabs me, and pulls me onto his lap. All I can do is laugh because I realize that Mr. Cool and Always in Control is a tad bit drunk. No, make that well on his way to being drunk. And before I can even respond to his sudden appearance, Colton’s mouth closes over mine.

  I resist at first, but once his tongue delves into my mouth and I taste him, I’m a goner. I groan in acceptance and lick my tongue against his. It’s only been a few days but God, I missed this. Missed him. I forget that other people are in the room when Colton tangles his hand in my hair and takes possession of me, holding me so all I can do is react. All I can do is absorb the feeling of him against me. He tastes of beer and mints and everything I want. Everything I crave. Everything I need. I bow my back so my chest presses to his, my nipples tingling as they brush against the firm warmth of his chest. Colton swallows the moan he’s coaxed from me when his arousal pushes up through my thin pajama pants and rubs against me.

  “Should we clear the room?” I hear Haddie say before she clears her throat loudly, shocking me back to reality.

  I pull my head back slightly from Colton’s, but his hand remains fisted in my hair holding my curls hostage. He rests his forehead to mine as we both draw in ragged breaths of need.

  After a beat, he throws his head back on the couch and laughs loudly, his whole body shaking from its force, before choking out, “Shit, I needed that!”

  I start to scramble off his lap, suddenly aware that I’m wearing a very thin camisole tank with some very aroused nipples sans bra, and Beckett—whom I’ve only met once—is sitting across from me, studying us with a quiet yet amused intensity. Before I can even cross my arms over my chest, Colton’s hands grip me from behind, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back against him.

  “Hey!” I shout.

  “I got it!” he shouts playfully in response. “And Colton’s inebriated.”

  What? I shift in his lap, trying to turn and look at him. “Huh?”

  He chuckles and it’s such a carefree boyish laugh—so at odds with the intensity he exudes—that my heart swells at the sound. “Ace,” he states confidently. “And Colton’s inebriated.”

  He busts out laughing again, and I can’t help but laugh along with him. “Nope.” And before I can say anything else, Beckett jumps in.

  “You’re drunker than I thought. Inebriated starts with an ‘I’, you douchebag. Spell much?”

  Colton flips him the bird, his boyish laugh returning again. “Whatever, Becks. You know you love me!” he says pulling me back against him. “Now, back to business,” Colton announces loudly. “You’re coming with us.”

  Haddie raises her eyebrows, amusement on her face at my flustered expression. “Colton, let me go!” I sputter loudly in between laughs, trying to wriggle out of his iron tight grip on me. He simply holds me tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder.

  “Nope! Not until you agree that you’re going with us. You and Haddie are going on a little road trip with Becks and me.” I start to wiggle again, and I feel Colton’s free hand slip up to cup my breast through my shirt, his thumb brushing over my nipple. I suck in a breath at his touch and embarrassment floods my cheeks.

  “Uh-uh-uh,” he teases, his breath feathering over my cheek. “Every time you fight me, baby, I’m gonna cop a feel.” He nips at the skin between my shoulder and my neck, his arousal thickening beneath my lap. “So please, Rylee,” he begs, “please, fight me.”

  I roll my eyes despite the shock wave of need that’s reverberating through me at the sound of his bedroom voice, and I can’t help the laughter that bubbles out, Haddie and Beckett joining in. Drunken Colton equals a very playful Colton. I like this side of him.

  “Typical male,” I tease. “Always misguided and thinking with the head in your pants.”

  He pulls me tighter against him, one arm around my shoulders while the other is around my waist. “Well then, don’t be afraid to blow my mind,” he murmurs, a low, seductive growl in my ear that has me laughing from the corniness of the line all the while tensing at the suggestion of it.

  “So get your asses up, pretty ladies, and get ready!” he suddenly orders, breaking our connection, pushing me to my feet, and swatting my backside.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask at the same time Haddie pipes up asking, “Where are we going?”

  Beckett laughs out loud at Haddie’s all-in reaction before bringing a bottle of beer to his lips. “Hey!” Colton shouts. “Don’t be drinking my beer you bastard or I’ll take you down.”

  “Chill out, Wood.” He chuckles. “You left yours on the table by the front door.”

  “Shit!” he grumbles. “I’m a man in need of a beer and of women to get their asses moving. Time’s a wasting!”

  “What in the hell are you talking about?” I turn to him, arms across my chest.

  A slow, roguish grin spreads across his lips as he stares at me. “Vegas, baby!”

  Mysterious text solved.

  “What?” Haddie and I shout, but both with different meanings. There is no possible way I am going to Las Vegas right now. What in the hell?

  Colton holds up his phone, biting his lip as he tries to concentrate on its screen, and I realize he’s trying to tell the time with his alcohol-warped mind. “We’ll be back in the morning, but wheels up in one hour, Rylee, so you better get that fine ass of yours moving!”

  What? We’re flying? What am I even thinking? I’m not going anywhere. “Colton, you can’t possibly be serious!”

  He pushes himself up from the couch, and looks a little wobbly before getting control. He looks down at me, an errant lock of hair falling over his forehead with his shirt untucked on the right side. “Do I need to pick you up over my shoulder and haul you to your bedroom to show you just how serious I am, sweetheart?”

  I look over at Beckett for some kind of help. He just shrugs his shoulders, silently laughing at our banter. “I’d just give in, Rylee,” he drawls, winking at me. “He doesn’t give up when he’s in this mood. I suggest you go get changed.”

  I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I look over at Haddie who has excitement dancing in her eyes. “C’mon, Ry,”
she prompts. “It couldn’t hurt to escape with everything that’s going on tomorrow.” She shrugs. “Have some fun and forget a little.” I nod at her and her smile widens. She whoops loudly. “We’re going to Vegas, baby!”

  Beckett stands from the chair asking for the bathroom. Haddie offers to show him on the way to her room to get ready. I turn to face Colton but am caught off guard as he swoops me up and over his shoulder, swatting my butt as he carries me rather unsteadily toward the hallway.

  “Colton, stop!” I shriek, smacking his ass in turn.

  His only response is a laugh. “Which room is yours?” I squeal as he tickles my feet. “Tell me, woman, or I’ll be forced to torture you some more!”

  Oh, I definitely like drunk and playful Colton!

  “Last door on the right,” I screech as he tickles me some more before throwing me unceremoniously onto my bed. I’m out of breath from laughing, and before I can even speak, Colton’s body is flanking mine. The feeling of his weight on me, pressing intimately against me, creates a crack in my resolve. So much for being aloof. That card was thrown out the window the minute he wobbled into the family room with that playful and captivating grin on his face.

  His mouth slants over mine and his tongue plunges into my mouth. I slide my hands up and under the hem of his shirt and run them up the planes of his back. The kiss is full of greed, angst, and passion, and I know I’m losing myself in it. To him. His hands roam, touching every inch of my bare skin he can find as if he needs this connection to tell him everything is alright between us. That our union is reassuring him, confirming that whatever’s between us is still there.

  I freeze when I hear a knock on the doorjamb. “C’mon, loverboy.” Beckett chuckles uncomfortably. “Rein it in. You can do that later. Right now we’ve got a plane to catch.”

  Colton rolls off of me, groaning as he adjusts his arousal in his jeans. “You’re such a buzz kill, Becks!”

  “That’s why you love me, brother!” He laughs as he retreats down the hall, giving me some privacy to get ready.