Trick You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (Rebel Ink Book 2)

by Tracy Lorraine

  “Um… you’re fucking what?”

  “Moving in. I think it’s only right that as man and wife we live together.”

  “Carter,” she says on a sigh. “We’re not man and wife, we’re a massive drunken mistake.” Her frustration is obvious, and I can’t help but push her buttons.

  “I’ve got a wedding certificate that says differently. We’re connected now, doll. It’s time you accept it.”

  “Nothing to accept. You’re not moving in here. This is my home.”

  “What’s yours is mine now, doll.”

  She blows out a breath, her body tense as we stand, locked in our stare. She might not know all that much about me yet, but she’s about to learn that when I want something, I don’t stop until I get it.

  “You’re infuriating.”

  “And you’re hot. Especially when you get that look in your eye where I’m not sure if you want to fuck me or kill me.”

  “I’d put your money on the latter of the two.”

  “Forty-eight hours in Vegas and you’ve become a gambling expert, who’d have thought it.”

  “I might have already been an expert, how would you know?” Her hand drops to her waist as her hip pops out. She has no idea, but she’s just laid down the ultimate challenge.

  “Doll, I watched you at the tables. You are most definitely not an expert.”

  “Whatever. Are you going to get out of the way yet so I can go in?”

  “Sure, lead the way.”

  “You’re not moving in here.”

  “I beg to differ.” I stand aside and gesture towards her door. “I think we also might need to discuss the colour of this.”

  “Read my lips: you are not moving in, and you are certainly not changing the colour of this door.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “What?” she snaps.

  “Interesting to know you’re more concerned about the door than me moving in.”

  “You’re impossible.” With a huff, she plucks her front door key from its really novel hiding place under a plant pot and pushes it into the lock.

  “That was there the whole time,” I mutter. “I could have unpacked by now.”

  Without saying a word, she marches through the door before swinging it as hard as she can behind her. Thankfully, I see it coming and get my foot inside just in time.

  “Now that wasn’t very welcoming to your new housemate, was it?”

  She doesn’t stop. She marches straight through the open-plan living area and towards the back of the flat, to what I discover is a seriously impressive master bedroom.

  “I’ve gotta say, this place is nicer than what I’m used to. I think I’m going to really enjoy it here.”

  “You’re not staying,” she barks, pulling a door open and disappearing inside.

  I take a seat on the end of her bed and wait.

  “Why are you still here?” she asks when she emerges with a couple of items of clothing draped over her arm.

  “Because I live here.”

  Her face starts to turn bright red as she stares at me. Her little fists clench, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s going to take a little more than that to intimidate me. I’ve fought and broken guys twice my size, a five-foot nothing brunette woman is less than scary.

  “Come on then. Come and hit me if it’ll make you feel better. Get rid of that anger.”

  She drops the clothes in a pile on the floor and storms over.

  “I’m not going to hit you.”

  “Why? Are you too good for that? I forgot you’re the little posh girl who only wants a fancy banker on her arm to make her look good.” Her lips purse in frustration, and her eyes darken. I’m definitely touching a nerve.

  “That’s not—”

  “Hitting me because you’re angry won’t bring you down a notch, doll. I won’t tell anyone. It can be our dirty little secret. Just like our marriage.”

  Her arm lifts, her small fist amusing as she moves for my chest. Only, she gets nowhere near. My own arm shoots out and my fingers wrap around my wrist.

  She stares at our connection as if she can’t believe it’s really there. She’s got a lot to learn about me, my reaction times only one of them.

  While she’s distracted, I take her other wrist and walk her backwards until she’s pressed up against the wall.

  I lift her arms and pin them above her head. Her chest heaves and her lips part as she stares at me. Anger still pours from her in waves, but it’s quickly being overtaken by desire.

  “You won’t win any fight with a pathetic attempt like that.”

  “I-I don’t want to win. I just want you to leave.”

  I lean in towards her ear and smile when my breath makes her shudder. “Are you really sure about that?”

  I step closer and press the length of my body to hers. A moan falls from her lips, but from the way she stills immediately after, it’s obvious that it wasn’t intentional.

  “Let me show you just how good it could be, having me as a housemate. I’ve got some tricks you’ve not even discovered yet.”

  “Carter, I—”

  This time I don’t give her a chance to argue. I’ve had enough with words, it’s time to let our bodies do the talking.

  My tongue delves between her open lips and teases hers. She resists for a few seconds longer than I’d like, but I know it’s more out of defiance than it is lack of interest.

  Her body sags against mine as she accepts the kiss. She lifts one leg and curls it around my hip, lining us up perfectly. I growl as her heat surrounds my hardening length.

  “See, you’re already reaping the benefits of this situation.”

  I kiss across her jaw and down her neck.

  “There is no situation,” she breathes, her argument now weak at best as her desire takes over.

  Releasing her hands, I kiss down her chest and along the edge of her sports bra. Not seeing how to easily remove it, I continue down.

  Her leg drops from around me, and as I kiss down her bare stomach, I hook my fingers into her leggings and pull.

  I slip her trainers off and then pull the fabric from her feet before placing one hand behind her knee and pushing it wide and high, opening her up for me.

  “Carter, I just went for a run,” she warns.

  “You’re mine, doll. I call the shots.”

  She starts to argue, but the second I fix my lips around her clit and stroke it with my tongue, she loses her train of thought.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Her hands dive into my hair. She pulls me closer and refuses to let go. Just how it should be.

  “Carter,” she cries when I slide two fingers inside her as deep as they’ll go before bending them and searching out her g-spot.

  Her walls ripple around my fingers, her body trembling as she stands on one leg, approaching her release.

  “Come, doll,” I mumble against her centre, and she does exactly that.

  She cries out my name as her grip on my hair gets impossibly tight.

  I slow my movements until she’s spent, then I lower her leg back to the floor and lift her into my arms.

  Her arms wrap around my neck and her legs around my waist. Her lips search out mine, and she groans when she tastes herself on my lips.

  “This. Off,” I mutter against her lips, tugging at the insanely tight fabric containing her tits.

  She releases my shoulders and successfully pulls it up and over her head in one smooth move.

  Lifting her higher, I take one of her nipples in my mouth and then the other. I watch as her head falls back in pleasure before I throw her down on the bed.

  Dragging my shirt over my head, I make quick work of removing every other item of clothing I’m wearing before taking her hips in my hands and flipping her to her front.

  I drag her to her knees at the end of the bed before lining myself up with her entrance and thrusting straight into her.

  “Fuck,” she cries, her body jolting forward at my invasion, but I don’t allow her t
o move. My fingertips dig into her hips and I pull out and slam inside her once again, feeling more at home than the few moments I spent inside my flat earlier.

  “This,” I say on a thrust. “This. Is. Why. You. Need. Me. Here.”

  “I did just fine before. I’ve got a vibrator in that drawer that does a perfectly good job.”

  “Oh yeah. Maybe one day you can show me and we can compare.” I’m about as intimidated by her threat as I was by her fists. There’s no way a small battery-operated device could come close to this right now. The connection. The passion. The wild need. It’s unrivalled.

  “Fuck you.” I’m assuming she wants it to be a threat, but it just comes out as a moan of pleasure.

  “Oh, doll. I am, and I can tell you for nothing that it won’t be the last time, either.”

  One hand releases her hip in favour of running up her stomach to find her full, needy breasts. I squeeze them before pinching her nipples. Each time I do, her pussy squeezes me so tight I almost come without warning.

  Her back arches further, ensuring I hit her even deeper.

  Fuck.

  Tingles erupt at the base of my spine as my balls start to draw up. I skim my hand back down her stomach until I find her clit. I pinch it hard and she crashes over the edge, followed only a second later by me.

  We both cry out as pleasure races through our bodies. Her legs give out, and she flops forward onto the bed. I follow close behind, my weight pressing her into the mattress.

  “Are you trying to kill me?” she asks once she’s caught her breath.

  “No, just stopping you running away.”

  “This is my house, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Nor am I. So I suggest you get used to the idea. I could use a shower, you?”

  Her lips part, but she doesn’t say anything as she watches me climb from the bed and poke my head into the open door she disappeared into not so long ago.

  “Fucking hell,” I mutter, seeing a massive walk-in wardrobe. “I guess I shouldn’t be worried that you don’t have space for my stuff.”

  “I’m not worried, because it doesn’t need to be here.”

  I glance over my shoulder to find her quite happily staring at my arse. She might try to tell me that she doesn’t want me, but unfortunately for her, her actions speak louder.

  Moving away from that door, I push the other one open to find a luxurious bathroom, complete with walk-in shower and a free-standing bath.

  “Carter, what are you—”

  I ignore her and turn the shower on. The water drowns out her complaining.

  I know the moment she joins me. I feel her angry stare burning into my back.

  “Come and join me, doll. The water’s lovely.”

  I turn to find her standing naked in the doorway. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”

  “That was the plan.” I reach out for her shower gel. It’s got Love Hearts all over it. I pop the top and take a sniff. “Hmm… so this is why you taste so sweet,” I muse, squeezing a generous amount into the palm of my hand before making a show of rubbing it over my chest and abs. “You want a taste yet?”

  She crosses her arms over her chest. It makes her cleavage look incredible as she watches the movement of my hands.

  When she gets down to my cock that’s still sporting a semi, she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. Her eyes defy her. She’s seriously considering it.

  My length hardens, remembering how hot her mouth was the last time she sucked me deep. She doesn’t remember it, but fuck, that’s not something I’m ever going to forget.

  “Come on, doll. Stop denying yourself.”

  Shaking her head, she steps towards me and right under the spray of water. “I’m not doing this because I want you. I’m doing it because I need a shower.”

  “Sure.”

  Squeezing another blob of shower gel into my hand, I rub them together before lifting them to her breasts. She jumps, but the second I brush her nipples she caves.

  “Now, isn’t this better than doing it alone?”

  “Meh.” She shrugs as I continue trailing my soapy hands around her body before I reach for the shampoo. My fingers massage her scalp as she moans quietly.

  “See, I told you, doll. Tricks.”

  “You have no food,” I say in horror as I shut her fridge and start on her cupboards.

  “In case you’d forgotten, I’ve not been here for a few days,” she says, walking through to join me now dressed in a cute summer dress. If she wasn’t still trying to get rid of me, I’d start to think she chose it for my benefit.

  “On second thoughts, I’ve found something else I want to eat more.”

  “No,” she says holding her hand up. “You promised me lunch. The fact I’m even considering this is crazy, so you need to seriously sweeten the deal if I’ve got to put up with you.”

  A smile curls at my lips. I fucking knew I’d win her over eventually.

  “Okay, how’s this. I take you out for lunch, and then we hit the supermarket to sort this dire situation out. You’ve not even got any dried pasta in the cupboard.”

  “I don’t really cook a lot.” I quirk a brow. “Okay, or ever.”

  “Get ready to go. I’ll get dressed.” I swipe the towel from my waist as I leave the room.

  “Clothes are a requirement in this house,” comes from behind me. I chuckle in response. I’m confident I can turn her to my way of thinking with that, too.

  She joins me in the bedroom as I’m pulling a shirt over my head. She squirts some stuff on her hands before scrunching it in her hair. It instantly tames her previously slightly wild curls.

  “What?” she asks when she catches my eye in the mirror over her shoulder.

  “N-nothing.” She stares at me a while longer, but I keep my lips sealed. I can’t play all my cards in the first couple of hours. Plus, I don’t want to appear desperate. Well, any more than I’m sure I already am.

  “Ready?” I ask when she seems to have finished.

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  22

  Danni

  I shake my head as I follow him from my house. I’m equally amused by his audacity as I am pissed off that I wasn’t able to get rid of him. That’s because deep down, I don’t want to get rid of him. I enjoy him being around more than I can admit, but I also know this is a disaster waiting to happen. For some insane reason, he expects me to embark on a life as a married couple when really, we’ve never even dated. I know hardly anything about the man. For us to suddenly live together in my one-bed flat is insane.

  “Come on. I’ve got a car waiting.”

  I lock up and climb the stairs to catch up with him. He’s not told me where we’re going, and I’ve decided to attempt to ignore my inner control freak and go with the flow.

  “So do you just not cook for one, or can’t you cook?” he asks me after confirming our destination with the driver.

  “Bit of both. I don’t enjoy it, so I’ve never really taken the time to learn. I spend too much time at work, and the last thing I want to do when I get home is cook.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “What about you? I’m assuming you can.”

  “A little. I find it relaxing.”

  “Well, I hope you packed your apron.”

  “Of course. I like to cook naked, so it’s important to keep the goods covered.” My chin drops as I imagine him walking around my kitchen in nothing but a frilly apron like my nan used to wear, his arse on full display. Shockingly, it’s an image I’m interested in experiencing. “See, now you’re interested, right?”

  “In having your flaccid cock near my dinner? No, that’s not overly appealing,” I lie.

  “What if I covered it in frosting?” My mouth waters. Damn him. “I’ll add frosting to my list. Chocolate sauce, too, in case you like to experiment.”

  “What?” I ask in shock. “I never said I wanted—”

  “It’s all in your eyes, doll. I can practically see your thou
ghts.”

  “The only thing in my head is how to get you out of my flat.”

  “After you’ve licked my frosting, I hope.”

  I growl, my back teeth grinding in frustration.

  “Can I see the list, please?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “So how do you know what you want to buy?”

  “It’s all up here.” He taps his temple.

  “Huh.”

  “What’s that meant to mean?”

  “Nothing. I’ve just never met anyone with that good of a memory.”

  “That’s because you’ve never met anyone quite like me before.”

  “You’ve got that right,” I mutter, making him laugh.

  The rest of the short journey is in silence as I stare out of the window, trying to figure out where he’s taking me. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to this part of town before.

  The car pulls to a stop beside a row of shops, and my brows pull together when I don’t see anywhere to eat.

  “Thanks, man,” Carter says to the driver before pushing the door open and climbing out. I join him on the pavement. My confusion must be written all over my face, because he looks at me and smiles. “Trust me.”

  Nodding, I accept his words, and when he twists his fingers with mine, I don’t pull my hand away. It feels quite comforting.

  I’m shocked when he pulls me to a stop outside of a nondescript looking door. It looks like anything but a restaurant.

  I remain silent as he pushes the door open, my eyes darting around everywhere, trying to figure this out.

  We descend a set of stairs, and that’s when the dining area comes into view. My eyes almost bug out of my head. “Wow. I was not expecting this.”

  “Impressive, right?”

  “I’ll say. What is it?”

  “Purple Peas is an award-winning low carb restaurant.”

  I can’t help but smile. He’s noticed that I try to eat low carb. “Carter,” I sigh.

  “See, I know more than you think.”

  “Good afternoon, table for two?” the waiter asks when he comes over to greet us.

  “Yes please.” He grabs two menus before directing us to a small table over in the corner of the basement dining room.