by R. R. Banks
“Roger that,” he says. “I'm on it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ackles.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Brady
The sunlight is streaming through the windows when I open my eyes and find Amanda looking back at me, a warm smile on her face.
“Well, good mornin' darlin',” I say. “Sorry – Amanda. Good mornin' Amanda.”
She laughs softly. “That's a habit I'm not going to be able to break you of, is it?”
I shrug. “Not sure. It's just a –”
“Texas thing, I got it,” she laughs.
“It most definitely is a Texas thing.”
“Just don't get carried away with it,” she says.
“Yes ma'am, I'll do my best.”
She laughs and nuzzles herself closer to me, planting a soft kiss on my chest. Yesterday had been about the most perfect day I could have ever imagined. We had a great time, she and Nicholas seemed to hit it off incredibly well. Everything about it was just – perfect. And of course, how Amanda and I ended the evening made it all the better.
I went into this thinking that we could do this. That we could have a mutually beneficial working relationship. A partnership. But as we spent more time together and I got to know her better, I found a truly remarkable woman. Unlike anybody I'd ever met before.
No, she's not like the typical woman I tend to date – but that's probably a good thing. I never realized it, but maybe I do need something different in my life. Somebody different. It scares me to even think about things like that, but those thoughts are runnin' through my head all the same.
I started this as a business proposition, but as I look into Amanda's eyes, I'm just not sure what it is anymore.
“I could stay here all day,” she murmurs.
“You and me both,” I say. “This – this feels like heaven.”
She looks up at me and I can see that something is on her mind. But then she closes it again without speaking. I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. There's no rush to define what it is between us. Hell, maybe it's best we don't for a while. Maybe we'd be better off just letting it play out and see where things go.
And that's the most unexpected thing for me – my desire to see where things go.
“But,” I say, “if we don't get up and get ourselves presentable, I fear that Miss Delia is going to send a search party up here for us.”
“Yeah, probably,” she sighs.
“How about a shower?”
“I can definitely use one.”
We stumble out of bed and make our way into the bathroom. The light comes on when we pass through the doorway and Amanda stops, gawking at the bathroom.
“Wow,” she says.
I look around and shrug. “It's a bathroom.”
“It's the most amazing bathroom I've ever seen.”
I laugh and shake my head. One of the things I love about her is that she makes me see things through her eyes. The things I take for granted, she sees as amazing. And because of her, and how she sees the world around her, it's giving me my own sense of wonder back.
“Just wait until you see the shower then,” I say.
It's a walk-in shower with a soft, cascading feature that's a lot like a waterfall. When I turn it on and get the temperature just right, Amanda squeals with delight and splashes around in it like a child. It's incredibly endearing.
“This is incredible,” she says, letting the water run over her.
I find myself admiring her body as the water rushes down over her. She's a beautiful woman and takes my breath away. She turns and looks at me, giving me a small smile.
“What?” she asks.
“Nothin',” I say and smile back at her. “Nothin' at all.”
She saunters over to me and wraps her arms around my neck, looking up at me. “You are one sexy man, Brady Keating,” she says.
“And you are one beautiful woman, Amanda Johnston.”
I lean down and kiss her deeply. Passionately. I push her up against the wall, letting the steam billow around us as the water cascades down over our bodies. Feeling her body, wet and slick, grinding against mine gets me hard in an instant. She takes hold of my cock, stroking it with a firm grip, all the while, biting her bottom lip and giving me a flirty little look.
I moan when she squeezes me tighter, and strokes me faster. I watch her as Amanda drops to her knees in front of me, tracing the tip of her tongue around the head of my cock. She flicks her tongue across the head, making me gasp, before taking it into her mouth.
With her mouth on the head of my cock, she flicks her tongue around it while still stroking me at the same time. And then she slides her mouth down, taking more of me into her. She starts moving her head up and down, working her mouth and her hand simultaneously. I throw my head back, moaning loudly as she works my cock, sucking and stroking, hard and fast.
“Jesus, darlin',” I gasp. “Thought you said you didn't know if you remembered how to do any of this.”
She looks up at me, her smile wide. “Turns out, it's like riding a bike,” she says. “I guess you don't forget some things.”
Amanda laughs and then slides her mouth down, taking all of my cock into her throat. She's cupping and squeezing my balls as she licks and sucks on my hard prick, moving her head up and down on it. My hands are in her hair, wrapping it around my fingers and pulling it as I moan as she makes my entire body shudder.
With the way she's working my shaft, I know that she's going to get me off sooner, rather than later. And I'm just not ready for it yet. I want to take a little more time and enjoy her body. I reach down and stand her up. She looks a little disappointed, but I kiss her – making her feel all of my desire and passion for her in that kiss.
My cock is so hard and the way she's stroking it is driving me crazy. I give her an apologetic smile and hold up a finger.
“Gimmie a minute, darlin'” I say. “I'll be right back.”
She laughs as I dash out of the shower and watches me rummaging through the drawers in the cabinet, looking desperately for a condom. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find one and hold it up for her to see.
“Success!” I say, beaming happily.
After putting it on, I walk back into the shower and take her hand, pulling her over to the in-shower bench. I sit down on it and then turn her around, giving me a perfect view of her incredibly perfect ass. Grabbing her by the hips, I pull her down. She grabs hold of my cock, guiding me to her tight, wet little pussy and then gasps as she slips it into her and slides down on it.
I grab Amanda's hair and pull it firmly, yanking her head back so I can kiss her neck as she begins to bounce up and down on my cock. She moves hard and fast, impaling herself on my cock over and over again, her breath becoming ragged and her body tense.
I knead her breasts with my hands, giving her nipples a firm pinch that makes her cry out. I arch my hips upward, trying to drive myself even deeper into her. And when I do, Amanda moans my name softly. Her entire body tenses up and then she leans back against me. I feel her body shuddering and trembling as she comes for me.
Kissing her neck, I let her catch her breath and ride out the waves of pleasure that are coursing through her.
“Oh my God, that was amazing,” she moans, her voice thick and husky.
I smile and stand her up. “You're pretty amazing,” I say as I kiss her.
“It's your turn,” she says.
“Damn right it is, darlin'.”
I smile and turn her around again, bending her over the bench. She plants her hands on it and looks back at me over her shoulder, a saucy smile on her face. Stepping up behind her, I grab hold of my prick and guide it to her tight opening. With one hard thrust, I drive myself deep into her pussy, drawing a long, loud moan of pleasure from her.
With one hand on her hip, I reach up and pull her hair nice and hard as I fuck her. The sensations coursing through me as I drive my cock into her again and again are unbelievable. I cry out, calling her name as I th
rust myself deep into her.
Amanda pushes herself back against me, grinding herself on me as I fuck her. The sound of flesh meeting flesh as our bodies slap together echoes around the bathroom. Mixed with our moans and cries, it's one of the most erotic sounds I've ever heard and it's turning me on beyond belief.
I feel my balls tightening and the pressure building up low within me. I know I'm not going to last much longer. As my body tightens up, I can feel my movements growing more and more erratic and I feel almost frenzied as I slam myself into her again and again.
Amanda looks back at me again, her cheeks flushed with color and that same naughty smile on her face.
“Let go, baby,” she moans. “Come for me. I want you to come hard for me, Brady.”
And as she clamps the muscles inside of her down around me, it pushes me over the edge. I feel my body get extremely tight a moment before it feels like everything inside of me lets go and turns to jelly. I throw my head back and call her name as my cock begins to throb and pulse as I blow my load into the condom.
As my cock pulses inside of her, Amanda cries out as another orgasm grips her. I relish the feel of her body shuddering while I'm inside of her, all of her muscles constricting and squeezing – heightening the pleasure coursing through the both of us.
A few moments later, I feel my deflated cock slip out of her and she stands up, turning around to face me. We kiss passionately and in that moment, I feel like I could stay there, with her, forever and be happy doing so. And looking into her eyes, I think I can see the same feelings being reflected back to me.
“As amazing as that was,” she says, “we should probably get cleaned up for real.”
I laugh. “Probably so,” I say. “Miss Delia's probably already looking for us.”
After throwing the condom away, I stand beneath the shower with Amanda. We take turns washing each other, and then spend a little time in a lover's embrace. It's one of the most intimate moments of my life and I don't want it to end.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tiffany
“I have to say, I was surprised to get your call.”
I look at Brady and give him a small smile. “Why is that, Brady?” I ask. “We are family, after all, are we not? Is it a crime to want to have brunch with family?”
He looks at me and I can see the wariness in his eyes. “Is that what we are, Tiffany? Family?”
“Of course, it is,” I say. “We're the only family we have left.”
“That's funny,” he says. “Because I tried maintaining a relationship with you for a long time. Because you are the only family I have left. And yet, you wanted nothing to do with me.”
I take a sip of my mimosa and set the glass back down on the table, saying nothing for a moment. Mr. Haas came back with nothing for me on Amanda Johnston. Poor girl, grew up in an abusive home in California, worked in a coffee house – until she got fired. In school studying to be a child psychologist. It's all a sad story that I can perhaps, use to embarrass her, but nothing that I can use as the scalpel I need to excise her from Brady's – and by extension, my – life.
There is nothing about her past that can even be construed as scandalous. Other than her growing up poor and abused, and apparently being a bit of a smart-mouthed bitch, there is really nothing I can use against her as leverage. Nothing I can use as a threat to get her to walk away from my half-brother. Which is rare. Most everybody has skeletons in their closets.
I look at Brady and give him my warmest, most ingratiating smile.
“Please understand my position, Brady,” she says. “I was essentially abandoned by our father. After he found out my mother was pregnant, he wanted nothing more to do with her. Or with me.”
He shakes his head. “That's not true, Tiffany,” he says. “I can remember plenty of times he tried to get together with you. It was your mother who shot it down every single time. It was your mother who wanted nothing to do with him.”
Lies. Lies fed to him by that dirtbag father of his. Which isn't all that surprising. Nor is Brady's blind acceptance of them. But, I can't really expect much more from him. After all, he's just another blind devotee of his father.
“Are you sure you won't have a mimosa?” I ask.
“No, thank you,” he says. “I'm fine.”
I shrug. “Suit yourself,” I say. “So, I hear you have a new woman in your life.”
He nods. “I do.”
“Well, tell me about her, Brady,” I say. “Is it serious? Is she the one?”
He sighs and looks at me. “Why are we here, Tiffany?”
“I thought it was to have brunch.”
He looks at me with a deadpan expression. “Let's drop the act, what do you say?” he says. “Let's just get down to the brass tacks here, huh?”
“Not much for small talk, are you?”
He shrugs. “I've got better things to do with my time,” he says. “You made your position on us ever being a family pretty clear over the years.”
“Brady,” I say, setting down my mimosa. “Can't you allow for somebody to have a change of heart?”
“Uh huh,” he says. “Change of heart, huh?”
“Yes, a change of heart.”
He picks at the napkin on the table in front of him. “And mind if I ask what's spurred this sudden change of heart?” he asks. “Given the way you've treated me over the years – which is like a damn leper, by the way – what is it that now has you on the let's-be-a-family bandwagon?”
I sigh. “Maybe it's the fact that I'm getting older,” I say. “And I realize that I'm more or less alone. It was always just my mother and me growing up, but now I don't even have her. Maybe, it's the fact that I'm seeing the importance of family and want to make amends with you.”
I don't. Not really. I just needed to get him here, to a public place – sans his girlfriend – so that I can employ my nuclear option. It's not necessarily something I necessarily want to do – like I said, I'm not a monster – but given the circumstances, it's something I have to do. There's too much at stake.
Brady sits back in his seat and sighs. I can tell he's torn. That's the one thing I have on my half-brother – he may not have many skeletons in his closet, but he's a sentimental sucker when it comes to family. I know his pressure point and know that if I squeeze it hard enough, for all of his cowboy swagger and bravado, he'll crumble.
If there's one thing I know about Brady Keating, it's that he desperately wants a family to love who will love him back.
“I don't know, Tiffany,” he says. “A lot’s happened. A lot's been said.”
“In the past,” I say. “That doesn't mean we can't build a new future.”
He sighs again and rubs the stubble on his jaw. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. “I need to think about it some.”
“Of course, you do,” I say. “You have my number, Brady.”
“I do.” He says as he gets to his feet and puts his hat on.
“I am sincere, Brady,” I lie. “I want nothing more than to be a family.”
He looks at me for a long moment. “Yeah, I guess we'll see.”
Turning around, he walks out of Brevia's. He is putting his swagger, tough-guy act on, but I can tell that inside, he's turning to jelly. It's a useful bit of information, though if everything else goes according to plan, it's information I won't have to act on.
But as he said, I guess we will see.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brady
I walked out of the restaurant feeling totally conflicted. On the one hand, yeah, the idea of having family appeals to me. Ever since my folks died, I've felt a little alone in the world. Of course, I have Nicholas and Miss Delia, but knowing I have a sister out there who's wanted nothing to do with me – it's kind of left a little bit of a hole in my heart.
So, to have Tiffany make the overture, tweaked those heartstrings.
On the other hand, though, I have a feeling she knows she was tweaking my heartstrings. If there's one thing I'v
e learned about Tiffany – mostly through Kendrick and Thomas – it's that she's cold. Manipulative. She looks out for herself, always has an agenda, and never does anything without having some strings attached.
Both Kendrick and Thomas have both warned me to be cautious around her and to never take anything she says or does at face value.
I am heading for my car, lost in thought, when I hear somebody calling my name. I turn around and feel my stomach drop into my boots. Standing there on the sidewalk in front of me is none other than Angie Willows – Nicholas' mother.
She looks almost exactly like she did the last time I saw her. Her long brunette hair falls to the middle of her back, framing her round, sweet face. Her dark eyes stand out against her milky white skin and she's tall – five foot eleven – and slender.
It's been four years, but it doesn't look like a single day has passed.
“Angie,” I say slowly, feeling my breath catch in my throat. “What are you doing here?”
She shuffles her feet nervously. “I was hoping we could talk.”
As I stand there taking her in, my mind is a battlefield. There's certainly a wave of nostalgia seeing her face – I'd cared for her at one point. But there is also a lot of anger – a deep, abiding anger – at her for abandoning both Nicholas and me.
I clear my throat and try to get my head on straight. “I don't know that there's anything to talk about, Angie,” I say. “You made your feelings pretty clear when you walked out on us four years ago.”
Her eyes are shining with tears and she looks down at her feet. “It's – complicated.”
“You walked out on your son four years ago,” I say with some real heat in my voice. “Never a card. A letter. Never a phone call or an email. Nothing. You just fell off the face of the earth. So, I really don't see what there is to talk about at all.”
She sighs. “I'd like a chance to explain it to you, Brady,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Can we please just go somewhere and talk?”
I sigh and look from her to the car, torn between talking to her or getting in the car and walking out on her the way she'd walked out on Nicholas and me. I have a million questions I want answers to – answers I never thought I'd get. But with Angie standing there, right in front of me, I guess I have my chance.