Nashville Secrets

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “Your mother, for one.”

  Brandon cocked his head. During the divorce, his parents had fought like rabid cats and flea-bitten dogs, but that was when Brandon and Tommy were teenagers. A lot of time had passed since then. Both his mom and dad were thrilled about becoming grandparents. They couldn’t wait for Zoe to be born.

  Dad moved to the edge of his seat. “Your mom has a new boyfriend. Some dude who works in finance.”

  Brandon wasn’t alarmed. His mother dated now and then. But it was never anything serious. After what she’d been through with Kirby, she was careful not to get too wrapped up in anyone. “Is that a problem for you?”

  “No. But I was thinking that maybe it’s time for me to start dating, too.”

  “Does that mesh with your sobriety? Have you talked to your counselor about this?”

  “Yes, and he said as long as it’s healthy dating, it’ll be all right.”

  “That makes sense.” Except the crazy thing was, Brandon wasn’t even sure if healthy dating factored into how he was feeling, not with how hungry he was for Mary.

  Dad guzzled his ginger ale. “I’m a little nervous about getting back out there.”

  Brandon was nervous, too, but for a different reason. He was worried that he might never see Mary again. “Maybe you should give it more time. You’ve got a lot going on, with becoming a grandparent.”

  “I can still be a grandpa and have a girlfriend. It gets lonely not having anyone to share my life with.”

  “Have you discussed this with Tommy?”

  “Yes, and he wasn’t as supportive as I’d hoped he’d be.” Dad got up and moved about the parlor. “He isn’t convinced that I’ve changed, not where women are concerned, anyway.”

  “I think you have.” Or it certainly seemed that way, particularly with how much this appeared to matter to him. “But it’s still a big step, and you still need to be sure you’re ready.”

  Dad sighed. “Does that mean I have your blessing?”

  “You don’t need my blessing to go out there and date. That’s something you need to tackle on your own. But I’ll be around anytime you need to a shoulder to lean on.”

  “Thank you for understanding. I wish Tommy was more like you. Matt could take a few pointers from you, too.”

  If Brandon wasn’t so mixed-up about Mary, he might’ve laughed. “I’m just not as hotheaded as my brothers.” Yet at the moment, their lives were far more centered than his.

  Kirby grinned. “You’ve always been my favorite.”

  Brandon shook his head. “You shouldn’t say things like that, Pop.”

  “I was just kidding.” His dad chuckled. An instant later, he turned serious and said, “I love all my boys. You’re all special to me. But I always feel better when I bring my problems to you.”

  “Glad I could help.” Brandon wasn’t going to bring his problems to anyone. He was just going to wait to see what happened with Mary.

  * * *

  Mary sat in her room, surfing the net on her phone for something to do. It was ten fifteen, and on a Friday night, no less. Most people her age would be out on the town. Or curled up with a significant other or doing something besides fretting alone in bed. She couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon, and watching stupid YouTube videos wasn’t helping.

  She got up and went into the kitchen to get a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher she and Alice kept in the fridge. Her sister wasn’t home. She’d gone out with friends. Already Alice had a peer group in Nashville. A bunch of wildings, no doubt, that she’d met on a social app, but at least she was off having a good time.

  Mary liked her new coworkers, but she didn’t have enough in common with them to hang out outside the job.

  She missed her friends in Oklahoma City. She hadn’t told any of them the truth of why she’d come to Nashville, though. None of them even knew about her mom’s affair with Kirby Talbot or that he’d filed a restraining order against her. Mama was too ashamed to admit that Kirby had duped her, so she’d done her darnedest to keep it a secret, and so had Mary and Alice.

  And now, of course, there was Brandon, and Mary’s dilemma with him. Should she go to his loft tonight, return his keys and tell him that it was over for good? No more dates? No more kisses? No more talk of sex?

  If she ended it now, everyone could go on with their lives without Brandon ever knowing the truth. The initial plan was to get Brandon hooked on her, then dump him in a cold and calculating way, revealing her deception to him and his father. But if Mary stopped seeing Brandon without telling him or Kirby who she was, then at least she wouldn’t be deliberating hurting him or rubbing his face in it. She just wanted the revenge to go away. Alice wouldn’t like it, but it wasn’t up to her. Mary had the right to break free, to stop seeing Brandon, to stop dating him and playing this terrible game.

  Yes, she thought. She was going to end this madness once and for all. But she wasn’t going to show up unannounced. This wasn’t a booty call. She wasn’t going to use the keys he’d given her and slip into his bedroom. No matter how thrilling sleeping with him sounded, Mary wasn’t a fool. She knew an affair with him would result in disaster.

  She finished her tea and returned to her room for her phone. He might not even be home. If that was the case, then she would just have to wait to hear back from him.

  For now, she sent a text. Are you at the loft? Is it okay if I stop by? Need to talk.

  He responded immediately with Now? Tonight?

  Her heart flew to her throat. Yes, she texted back. But just to talk. She wanted to make sure he’d gotten that part.

  Sure. Come over. I’m here.

  She had no idea how he was feeling. You could never tell with texts unless someone used emoticons, and even then sometimes people posted smiley faces when they weren’t smiling for real.

  Winding down the conversation, she typed, I’ll see you in a while. Need to get ready.

  Okay. See you, too.

  She tossed her phone back on the bed and headed for the shower.

  Once she was standing beneath the spray of water, naked as the day she was born, she closed her eyes.

  And tried not to think about Brandon.

  But he swirled through her mind like a mist. She opened her eyes and pumped a glob of bath gel into her hands. Still thinking about him, she lathered her body.

  If she touched herself, would the ache go away?

  No, she thought. Pressing her fingers between her legs wasn’t going to help her cause. She needed to do this cold turkey. Determined to stay strong, she finished her shower, taking extra care in washing and conditioning her hair.

  After she toweled off, she blow-dried her hair and styled it in its usual French braid. She slipped on a plain white bra and matching panties. Not that her underwear mattered. She was the only one who was going to see them. But she was trying to keep her appearance as low-key as possible, even for herself. She chose a simple cotton dress with sunflowers on it, a pair of yellow sneakers and a pale pink cardigan that matched her lip gloss. She barely had any eye makeup on. The less sexy she looked, the less likely she was to feel sexy.

  Or so she hoped.

  A short time later, when she arrived at the big iron gate at Brandon’s building, she fumbled with the code. She had to keep looking at the dial pad on her phone to punch in the corresponding numbers for Mona Lisa. She should have written them down before she got here.

  Finally, the gate opened, admitting her into Brandon’s private parking area. Although it was well lit, it still seemed eerie and isolated.

  She made a beeline for the elevator and used the key. After she stepped inside, she wished that Brandon hadn’t told her about his elevator sex fantasy. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from getting turned on.

  So much for not feeling sexy.

  She cursed her lack of self-control, near
ly running out of the elevator when the door rolled open.

  Still struggling with her composure, she walked down the hallway to Brandon’s front door. She knocked, the way any proper guest should do.

  He answered her summons with his eyes seeming darker than usual, like a midnight sky instead of their typical daytime blue. She entered his home, and they stared at each other.

  He whispered her name, and she lost her resolve. Like a woman possessed, she moved closer and leaned into him.

  Just one kiss, she thought, as their lips connected. One sweet, sensual kiss before she ended it for good.

  Six

  Mary didn’t stop at one kiss. She pressed harder against Brandon, eager to devour him. He reacted just as eagerly, just as desperately. He backed her against the door, and she dropped her purse onto the floor with a resounding thud and used both arms to cling to him.

  He tasted as thick and rich as her favorite devil’s food cake, soaked in rum. She was already getting drunk on him. Slick, wet, openmouthed kisses. Could it get any hotter?

  She wanted to make frenzied love with him, to have full-on, tear-each-other-apart, animalistic sex.

  Right here. Right now.

  Mindless, feverish...

  Sex, sex, sex...

  Was she crazy having those kinds of thoughts?

  They came up for air, and she could barely see straight. Nothing was right in her head.

  He dropped to his knees, and she fought the fuzziness in her brain. He looked damned fine, kneeling before her, making her heart spin. Trying to process her emotions, she said, “I came here to give your keys back, to never see you again.”

  “We can talk about that later.” He reached under her dress and peeled her panties down her legs.

  Mary thought about the artwork in his room. She knew exactly where Brandon’s mouth was going to go. “Should I take my dress all the way off?”

  “No.” He skimmed his hands along her inner thighs. “You can just hold it up for me.”

  Oh, my. If she wasn’t so aroused, she would have blushed. “Can I watch?”

  “Absolutely. But you still have to lift your dress for me.”

  She gathered the hem and raised it an inch at a time. She’d never done anything so brazen before. But she wanted to feel his mouth on her.

  “You look pretty tonight,” he said. “Sweet and wholesome.”

  “I was just trying to look like my usual self.” Plain, she thought. Simple. But there was nothing simple about the way Brandon was making her feel. She bunched her dress around her hips, exposing herself to him.

  He parted her with his thumbs, and she tightened her hold on the fabric in her hands. The bright yellow sunflowers...

  He went for it, using his tongue in the most delicious of ways. Mary mewled like a kitten. Or maybe she was rumbling like a mountain lion.

  She wanted to tug on Brandon’s hair, but she couldn’t. Being deprived of touching him made the ache between her legs more pronounced. She lifted her dress even higher.

  “That’s right,” he said. “Show me more.”

  He increased the heat, the pleasure, the forbidden sensations. He was being relentless, making swirling motions with his tongue. He used his fingers, too. Mary watched him as if her life depended on his very existence. And maybe it did. Maybe she hadn’t been alive, really alive, until tonight.

  She climaxed, feeling hot and frenzied.

  When she was done, she feared she might topple over. She was still clutching her dress around her hips.

  He stood and smiled. “Now you can take it all the way off.”

  She removed her dress, along with her sweater, and he reached around to unhook her bra.

  Once she was bare, he said, “We need to take this into the bedroom. That’s where the protection is.”

  He scooped her up like a naked bride about to be carried over the threshold. Fascinated with the way he made her feel, she put her hand against his cheek. His skin was warm, his jaw cleanly shaved.

  He shouldered his way into his room, where the paintings glimmered in the soft light.

  He placed her on the bed and began tugging at his clothes. It was then that she realized he was wearing a novelty T-shirt that said Trust Me, I’m a Lawyer across the front of it.

  Could he be trusted? God, she hoped so.

  But for now, she just wanted to put her hands all over him.

  * * *

  Brandon sucked in his breath. Mary’s touch felt sweet, but wicked, too. So damned good, he thought. She stroked him, making him harder than he already was.

  He didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d been prepared to return his keys and stop seeing him. All that mattered was that she’d changed her mind.

  “I love how you came for me,” he said. “How you looked at me when I was putting my mouth on you.”

  “I love how it felt.” She ran her thumb across the tip of him, making a pearly bead of semen appear. “I knew that you’d dominate me if we ever slept together.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He rolled over on top of her, pressing his nakedness against hers. “How so?”

  “Just that you’d overpower my senses.” She writhed beneath him, creating sexy friction.

  “Maybe I should dominate you in other ways, too.” He grabbed her wrists and cuffed them with his hands, holding her arms above her head. “I’ve never been into handcuffs or blindfolds or anything like that, but with you anything seems possible.” He wanted to explore the woman she was, to unfold her mystery, to draw her into the deepest, darkest recesses of whatever the hell it was that was happening between them. “We can be romantic together or we can be depraved.” He paused for effect. “Or we can be both.”

  She went still. “I’m in trouble.”

  “Because you’re letting me do bad things to you?”

  She nodded. “I shouldn’t even be here with you.”

  “It’s too late. We already imprinted on each other.” Like animals trapped in a mating ritual, he thought. He released her wrists, freeing her from his captivity. “But I’m not holding you hostage. You’re here of your own free will.”

  “Naked and desperate for you? What kind of free will is that?” She snaked her arms around him, and they rolled over in the bed.

  He kissed her, tasting the warmth of her lips and making her sigh. When he raised his head and looked into her eyes, she was staring back at him.

  “Are you ready to take me inside?” he asked. He was so aroused, so damned eager, he felt as if he might burst.

  “Yes. I’m ready.”

  He grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer, and she watched him put it on. She had a naughty knack for watching everything he did. He’d never met anyone who excited him more. She’d become his sexual ideal. A nice girl. A good girl.

  He thrust into her, and she keened out a moan and dug her nails into his back. He didn’t care if she clawed the crap out of him. He welcomed anything from her. Anything sexual, he thought, anything that made his body run hot.

  She matched his rhythm, stroke for lust-driven stroke. They kissed and growled and behaved like the feral beings they’d become. He flipped her over and did her doggy-style. She gripped the posts on the headboard and pushed back against his aggressive thrusts.

  Later, he would be romantic with her. Later he would hold her. For now, he just needed to get the fury out of his blood.

  He tugged on the end of her braid. Then he went full bore and undid it, making a mess out of her pretty red hair. He glanced up at the paintings above the bed. He wanted to fill his room with artwork just like it, with images that made him think of Mary.

  They changed positions again, and Brandon got back on top. He cupped her breasts, intrigued by her nipples. They were ripe and hard, but the color was soft, like the pink dahlias that grew in the garden on his country estate
.

  He lowered his head to suck on one of her nipples, and she tunneled her fingers through his hair.

  They didn’t stay that way for long. Soon they were shifting and moaning. She wrapped her legs around him, and he moved in and out, enthralled with having her as his lover.

  She was close to coming. He felt her resolve. He used his fingers to intensify the stimulation, giving them both a quick fix.

  Brandon was just as close. As pressure built in his loins, his vision began to blur. His image of Mary was hazy now.

  He took her mouth, kissing her roughly and deep. She came then and there, bucking beneath him. He pulled his mouth away from hers. He couldn’t concentrate on kissing anymore. Brandon was caught in a kaleidoscope of sex, of carnal desire, of making love with someone who left him clamoring for more. He tossed back his head, his orgasm shattering between them.

  * * *

  Struggling to catch her breath, Mary roamed her hands over Brandon’s back. She couldn’t feel the claw marks she’d left on his skin, but she suspected they were there.

  “I thought you weren’t going to hold me captive,” she said. He was big and heavy, his heart beating next to hers.

  He lifted his head, piercing her with his gaze. “I’m just enjoying the moment.”

  She wished that he wasn’t staring at her. He always made her nervous when he did that. But when didn’t he make her nervous? “The moment is over.”

  He moved onto his side and held her, ever so gently. “The sex is over, but the afterglow is just beginning.”

  She panicked, counting off the mistakes in her mind. She shouldn’t have slept with him and she shouldn’t have lost herself so deeply in it, either. “I’m not glowing. Am I?”

  “You definitely are. I’ve never seen a more beautifully tousled woman.”

  She glanced away, feeling shy and self-conscious. And guilty, so darned guilty. She didn’t have the right to be glowing in his arms.

  Finally, he sat up and said, “I have to get rid of the condom. But don’t go anywhere. Stay right here.”