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The Playboy Next Door

Page 8

by Christina Tetreault


  She opened her mouth to answer, but then he pulled a nipple into his mouth while at the same time his fingers slipped inside her panties.

  She let him tease her for a moment or two, then pulled his hand away. She wanted to enjoy their night together, not have it end quickly, which would happen if she didn’t stop him.

  “What’s the matter?” He released her nipple and met her eyes.

  Cat pulled his head toward hers. “Nothing.” When she pressed her breasts against his chest, the heat from his skin seeped into her and the world around her faded.

  In the back of her mind, she heard the footsteps on the landing outside her door, but her brain dismissed it. Mr. Fox and his wife, her neighbors, must have just come home. Often on the weekends, they babysat their grandchildren in Danvers so their daughter and her husband could go out for dinner.

  “Hey, Tri––”

  She stopped breathing. It wasn’t possible. Her brother couldn’t have just walked in.

  Tony released her lips, but otherwise, he remained motionless.

  Slowly, Tony pulled away and looked at her, his expression saying the same thing as her brain. The shit was about to hit the fan.

  “Buddy, how about you––”

  Tony turned, and she tried to cover herself with her hands.

  “What the fuck!”

  Cat cringed.

  Tony moved, acting as a human privacy shield. Or at least he tried.

  Her brother’s fist plowed into Tony’s face, the momentum forcing him to lean toward the left. Immediately, blood trickled down Tony’s chin.

  “Striker, stop it.” Cat shouted as she looked around for her sweater.

  Striker swung again. This time, Tony ducked and Striker’s fist only met air, which only enraged him more.

  Jumping off the table, she scooped her sweater up from the floor and pulled it on.

  Across the room, Tony landed a punch in Striker’s stomach, but it didn’t seem to slow him down.

  “You son of a bitch. She’s my sister,” Striker yelled loud enough that her neighbors on the first floor most likely heard.

  “Striker.” She’d seen Striker anger plenty of times, but never like this. Again, her brother swung at Tony with his right. Tony avoided the punch, but, unfortunately, Striker got him with his left.

  Her heart moved to her throat and her chest rose and fell rapidly. She had to do something. Tony didn’t deserve this. She’d been a willing participant.

  Cat lunged forward, hoping to get between the two men. “Knock it––” Her teeth rattled together as pain sliced through her face. She started to fall, but Tony grabbed her.

  “Trina, I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Striker’s voice shook as he took her hand.

  Cat pulled away and focused on not crying as pain radiated through her face.

  “Do something useful and get her some ice,” Tony said, leading her to a chair.

  She wiped her eyes with her hand before any tears fell, but didn’t sit. “What is the matter with you, Striker?” she shouted, even though it hurt.

  “Me?” Anger once again filled Striker’s voice. “I walked in to find you and this scumbag having sex on the table like a whore, and you have to ask.”

  One moment, Tony stood next to her, and the next, he had Striker by the front of his shirt. “Your sister is not a whore, and you damn well know it.”

  Now that they’d stopped throwing punches, she didn’t want to see a repeat performance. Besides, as angry as the comment made her, she knew her brother didn’t mean what he said. “Let him go, Tony.” She touched his arm and Tony released Striker.

  A stare down to end all stare downs ensured.

  “Get out, Bates.” Striker broke the silence in the room.

  “This is my apartment, not yours. You don’t have the right to throw anyone out.”

  Striker turned his ‘I’m the big brother, you’ll do what I say’ glare on her. When they were children, it worked almost every time. They weren’t kids anymore.

  “Maybe you should leave instead, Striker,” she said.

  “What, so you can get back to screwing this asshole?”

  Tony took a step forward, but when she took his hand, he stopped.

  “Cat, maybe we should go.”

  If her brother wanted to be a jerk, she’d let him. Maybe when he cooled off, they could have a rational discussion like adults. “Let me grab a few things. I’ll meet you downstairs in a few minutes.”

  She waited until Tony buttoned up his shirt and left before she went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Then she pulled on a pair of jeans and tossed some clothes in a bag.

  When she walked back in the kitchen, Striker stood near the counter, his arms crossed. “What in the world are you doing?”

  “Don’t start again. I’m not doing anything you don’t do.” She collected her keys and purse, ready to leave without saying another word.

  “It’s not the same, and you damn well know it.”

  Cat slammed her phone and purse down on the table. “So you can have sex, but I can’t. Did you think Zack and I just cuddled every night when we lived together.”

  Striker pushed away from the counter, coming toward her. “Walking in on you and Zack the way I did would’ve been bad enough, but I could’ve handled it. But with Tony, Trina? What the hell were you thinking?”

  “He can’t be all bad. He’s your friend.”

  “You know just what’s wrong with him. The guy has been in more beds than a traveling salesman.” Striker paced a few times before he stopped and looked at her. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Trina.”

  Done with the discussion, she picked up her phone again. “He’s no different than you, Striker. Maybe I should call Ella and tell her to stay away from you so she doesn’t get hurt.”

  “Ella and I have gone out a few times. That’s it. We haven’t had sex on her kitchen table.”

  Her first reaction was to say the word yet, but she refrained. “We weren’t having sex on the table.”

  “You were pretty damn close.”

  The moment justified a good foot stomp. Too bad she’d stopped doing that years ago. “I don’t care what you think. Tony and I enjoy spending time together, and I’m not going to stop doing that because it upsets you.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  The smart thing would be to say a couple weeks, but her anger was getting in the way of her intelligence. “A few months.” Cat pulled open the door and stepped into the hall. She’d had enough of her brother for the night.

  Striker followed her. “When will you be back?”

  “When I’m back.” She heard Striker call out to her as she reached the second floor landing, but she didn’t stop. Once he cooled off, she’d sit down and talk to him, until that happened though, they’d only keep arguing. Getting away from him was the wisest option.

  Tony stood near his car with his hands shoved in his pants pockets. The overhead streetlight illuminated the frown on his face as well as the developing bruises and split lip. “Ready?”

  She considered kissing him, but his tone stopped her. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 6

  Tony stretched out his arm, expecting to come in contact with Cat. Instead, it landed on soft flannel.

  “Hey, sleepyhead.” Warm lips pressed against his forehead. “I thought you planned to spend the day asleep.”

  He opened his eyes and found Cat sitting on the side of the bed. “What time is it?” he asked, moving into an upright position.

  “Almost ten.” She held out a coffee mug. “I thought you might like this.”

  A strange sensation he couldn’t identify settled in his chest. It had been happening a lot lately. “Thanks.”

  A cup of coffee was just what he needed. The night before, he’d spent hours staring at the ceiling. He’d known there was a chance Striker would learn about them. Secrets had a way of getting out no matter how hard you tried to keep them buried. He’d never expecte
d Striker would find out the way he had.

  The poor guy. Just the thought of walking in to find his own sister in a similar position made his head hurt.

  “How’s your cheek today?” A bruise had formed on her face even before they made it back to his house last night.

  Cat turned the other side of her face toward him. “Not too bad. Much better than yours.”

  The sight of the purplish mark on her skin made him wish he’d hit her brother harder. “I should’ve broken his arm for doing that to you.”

  “He didn’t do it on purpose. We both know that.”

  “I still might hit him again the next time I see him.” Tony took a sip of coffee, the simple act making his lip hurt.

  “Still hurts?”

  He hadn’t intended to grimace, but he must have. “A little.”

  “Maybe I should have made you oatmeal for breakfast instead of pancakes.”

  From time to time, he’d had women spend the night at his place, but not a single one had made him breakfast the next morning. The sensation he didn’t want to identify expanded in his chest. “I’ll manage.”

  He put on a pair of sweats and followed her into the kitchen. A plate full of pancakes sat on the table just waiting for him to dive in. He didn’t waste any time. He ate two and was reaching for a third before Cat even started on a second. Breakfast had always been his favorite meal of the day. There was just something about breakfast foods that he loved. Unfortunately, his mom had never been much of a cook when it came to breakfasts. A bowl of cereal and toast or a frozen waffle tossed in the toaster had been the standard morning meal growing up.

  Except for those mornings he’d found himself at Sean’s house. Sean’s mom always prepared something hot for breakfast. Perhaps that was why, when he and Sean had been younger, they’d usually hold their sleepovers at his house instead of Tony’s. Even when they’d gotten too old for sleepovers, Tony would frequently stop at the O’Brien’s house on the way to school and join Sean and his sister for breakfast.

  “I need to help Sean today, but you’re welcome to stay here if you want.” He’d never let a woman stay and hang around his place while he was gone, but he understood if she didn’t want to face her brother again just yet.

  Cat shifted in her seat, her arm brushing against his and sending heat across his skin. “Kelsey and I talked about maybe seeing a movie this afternoon. I’m going to call her after breakfast.”

  Well, that solved her brother problem, for the afternoon anyway.

  “If you do, why don’t you come back here after? I can drive you home later or you can spend the night again. Now that Striker knows the truth, you can spend as much time as you want here.” At least one good thing had come from the previous night’s events.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Tony didn’t consider his next words before he spoke. “Why don’t you just stay here until Striker moves into his new place? I can drive you over to pack when I get back this afternoon.”

  Cat’s hand stopped with her fork almost to her mouth. “He’s going to be there for a few weeks.”

  “That’s fine. We’ll pick up your car and clothes tonight.”

  Across the table, she nodded and went back to eating. He did the same before he did something else stupid like ask her to move in with him permanently.

  Following breakfast, Tony dropped Cat off at Kelsey’s place, so they could go to the movies, before he drove to Sean’s.

  Mrs. O’Brien’s car—correction, Mrs. Larson’s car—was parked behind Sean’s truck. Even as he walked to the front door, he could hear the questions she’d ask when she saw his face. Even though he’d managed to avoid some of Striker’s punches, the guy had still gotten in a few good ones.

  Tony waited for someone to answer the door while he put together a good excuse for Sean’s mom.

  Thankfully, Sean answered the door.

  “What happened to you? Did you have a run-in with a jealous husband?”

  Sean knew he never got involved with married women. “I’ll explain later,” he promised as he entered the house. “Is your mom staying long?”

  “She stopped by to drop off some banana bread she baked. I think she worries I’ll let Taylor starve if she doesn’t bring over food.”

  “Taylor’s here too?” The news shouldn’t surprise him. Sean’s half-sister spent a lot time there, but he hadn’t counted on her being there that weekend.

  “My father had to travel for business, so she asked if she could stay with me instead of my aunt this weekend.” Sean walked toward the kitchen as he spoke, leaving Tony to follow.

  The sweet scent of banana bread greeted him in the hallway and guessed Mrs. Larson had taken it out of the oven right before she brought it over.

  “Oh, Tony, what happened?” Mrs. Larson rushed over to him, putting her hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay? Did you put ice on these bruises?”

  “I’m fine, really. It’s nothing.” He hugged her and then tried to smile in Taylor’s direction. The pain in his lip stopped him.

  “You look awful.” Over the past several months, Taylor had become very comfortable around him, and always said what was on her mind.

  “What happened? Where you in an accident? Sit. Can I get you something?” Mrs. Larson asked, concern still evident in her voice.

  Tony let Mrs. Larson wrangle him over to a chair. “I’m fine. I was boxing with my friend Richard last night at the gym.” The lie came to him from thin air, but it sounded darn good.

  Across the table, Taylor laughed. “Looks like he’s much better than you.”

  “He got lucky.”

  “Well, as long as you’re okay.” Mrs. Larson patted his shoulder. “I’m going to go. Call me if you or Taylor need anything.” She kissed Sean’s cheek.

  “We’ll be fine, Ma.”

  Once Mrs. Larson left, Sean looked over at him. “Let’s get started, Tony. Taylor, if you need me, just yell. And if you decide to walk over to Jenna’s, let me know first.”

  Sean kept his mouth shut until they entered the soon-to-be master suite. “Okay, what happened and don’t give me that bullshit about boxing with Richard. I know Richard doesn’t box. Does your latest girlfriend have a jealous boyfriend she didn’t tell you about?” Sean sat down on an overturned bucket and waited.

  “Striker and I got into a fight last night.”

  “Over what, who the better football coach is?” Sean cracked a smile. “Seriously, what did you do to piss him off?” His smile faded. “Wait. You’ve been seeing someone named Catrina… Not as in Striker’s little sister?”

  Tony nodded.

  “I don’t know what makes you dumber, dating her or telling him.”

  “We didn’t tell him. He walked in on us last night at her place.”

  Sean rubbed a hand down his face. “I’m surprised he didn’t kill you.”

  If Cat hadn’t intervened when she had, he suspected both he and Striker would be in much worse shape now. “I think he considered it. Cat got in the way.”

  “If I had ever walked in and found you having sex with Charlie, I would’ve killed you and no one would’ve stopped me. If you knew he was coming over, what the hell were you doing there anyway?”

  “He wasn’t supposed to move in until today. He surprised us last night when he walked into the kitchen.”

  Sean pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ. You were having sex in the kitchen when he walked in?”

  “We hadn’t made it quite that far yet.”

  “Like that matters. I’m sure you were far enough along.”

  Considering the fact she’d been almost naked, yeah, he’d agree with Sean on that one.

  “What possessed you to sleep with her anyway? Did you already go through all the women in Massachusetts?”

  Tony crossed to the large window seat that Sean had spent hour refurbishing and then turned back around. “It just happened.”

  “What happened after Striker used your face as a pu
nching bag?”

  “Cat came back to my place. She’s going to stay with me until Striker moves into his new condo in a few weeks.”

  “With you?”

  “Do you have a hearing problem?”

  “Tony, you’re making a big mistake. Catrina isn’t your type. If you let her stay with you for a few weeks, before you know it, she’s going to be expecting more, like a ring. We both know you have no plans of getting married.” Sean stood, picking up the bucket. “Dragging it out, no matter how good the sex is, will only make the situation worse later on.”

  Even if he could put his reasons into words, nothing except physical torture would get him to share his reasons for staying with Cat. “Thanks for the advice,” Tony said with sarcasm.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “Let’s just get to work.” Tony headed for the boxes containing the hardwood flooring. If they kept up this conversation, Sean would only try to change his mind. Perhaps he deserved that. He’d given Sean a hard time when he’d let Mia walk away that summer.

  If he did deserve it, he didn’t want it and it wouldn’t change anything. He’d made his decisions for now.

  ***

  “Who just dropped you off and where’s your car?” Kelsey asked after she let Cat inside.

  “My car’s at home. You don’t mind driving this afternoon, do you?”

  A little shiver went down Cat’s spine as she sat. It happened more or less every time she walked into Kelsey’s house. The place looked unchanged from when they were kids, which meant every time she walked in, she expected to see Kelsey’s parents, who had died two summers ago in an accident, to enter the room. Honestly, she didn’t know how her friend could deal with living in the giant old farmhouse alone.

  “No, that’s fine. But who gave you a ride over? You should’ve called. I would’ve picked you up.”

  Everyone in town would know soon enough anyway. “Tony gave me a ride.”

  There had to be at least three other guys named Tony living in town that they knew, yet judging by Kelsey’s expression, her mind went straight to Tony Bates.

  “Seriously? What were you doing with him? Did you run into him somewhere?”

 

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