The Braddock Boys: Brent

by Kimberly Raye

  Make-believe, she reminded herself. None of this was real. Not his concerned look or the strange possessiveness gleaming in his gaze.

  But for a few seconds as they sat side by side, his thigh warm and strong against hers, it felt real. He felt real.

  “You should be careful,” he finally said. “You can’t just go around picking up men. It’s dangerous.”

  “Trust me, I can take care of myself.”

  “So sayeth every woman.”

  “I’m serious. I’ve got a black belt in Karate and years of hand-to-hand combat training,” she blurted before she could stop herself. When he arched an eyebrow, she added, “My dad was career military. He taught me everything he knew.” Martial Arts. Special Weapons. She could even arm wrestle.

  Not that she told Brent that. She’d already admitted too much and he’d been more than clear that he didn’t care.

  But for someone who didn’t give a crap he was being awfully nosy. The realization made her want to smile.

  Silence settled around them as she sipped her margarita. His thigh brushed hers and her heart stuttered. So much for moving on to the next guy.

  She still wanted this one. She just wasn’t so sure he still wanted her. He was here, which said a lot. At the same time, he was also griping her out which didn’t exactly spell out I-want-to-jump-your-bones.

  “What branch of the Armed Forces is your dad in?” he asked after several seconds of silence ticked by. It was the last thing she expected from him. At the same time, he seemed eager for a distraction from the heat flowing between them.

  She eyed him. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  “No, but tell me anyway.” It’s better than sitting here wondering how I’m going to keep my hands off you.

  The words whispered through her head and she couldn’t help herself. She smiled.

  Not because he’d actually said them. She knew it had to be her imagination at work. His lips hadn’t so much as moved. At the same time, she had the strangest feeling that the ridiculous thought rang true. “Was. He was a Navy recruiter. He passed away a few years ago from a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. He died doing what he loved most—briefing new recruits.”

  He grinned and the pain that she always felt when she talked about her dad eased just a little. “Actually, he didn’t die right away.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. He hadn’t asked and even if he had, she never talked about it. Not in the few years since he’d passed away and certainly not now, to a virtual stranger.

  But he didn’t feel like a stranger. There was something familiar about him. While she didn’t know him from Adam, she had the absurd notion that he understood.

  That he understood her loss because he’d faced his own.

  “They took him to the hospital, but he didn’t want to call me. He wasn’t a very emotional man. I busted out crying when I scraped my knee once and he had a fit. Crying is for the weak and Trentons aren’t weak, he always used to say. That was the first and last time I ever cried. I didn’t even cry when they handed me his ashes. I should have.” Her gaze riveted on a small drop of condensation that slid down the outside of her glass. “I should have cried, right?” The words tumbled past her lips. The accusation she’d felt every moment of every day. The sneaking suspicion that haunted her and reminded her that she was every bit the cold, emotionless person her father had once been. “Most people cry when they lose their dad.” Except the cold, heartless ones.

  “Trentons don’t cry,” her father had said. “They don’t show weakness and they don’t act silly over some boy and they don’t jeopardize their entire future to go to some silly prom. Suck it up, girl. You’re a Trenton.”

  And so she had. She’d sucked it up and buried her feelings to the point that she’d stopped thinking she even had any. And then her father had died, and his death had proved as much.

  “My father always wanted me to be tough. I guess he finally got his wish.”

  “He doesn’t sound like much of a father.”

  “He wasn’t. He was strict and demanding and I think he always blamed me for my mother’s death. She died when I was a few months old. She had diabetes and having me put too much of a strain on her system.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  She’d told herself as much many times in the past, but hearing him say it made her actually believe it.

  “I lost my mother in a fire.”

  “And your dad?”

  “I don’t know. He left long before that and never looked back. It was just me and my brothers after that.”

  “How many brothers?”

  When he hesitated, she added, “Come on. We’re only talking. I promise I won’t hold it against you later.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Just sex?”

  “Just great sex.”

  He grinned. “Three.”

  “I always wondered what it would be like to have brothers.”

  “You wouldn’t be sitting here right now, that’s for sure. No brother would stand by while his sister cruised a bar for strange men.”

  “Is that how you see me? Like a sister?”

  “You’re not my sister.” His gaze caught and held hers, as if he knew she needed to hear the words. “Not by a long shot.”

  Silence stretched between them once again, but it wasn’t awkward this time. A sense of camaraderie wound between them, crossing the distance and killing the tension. A feeling that fed her courage and urged her to voice the one thought playing in her head. “You’re right about me, you know.”

  “I’m always right, sugar.”

  A grin tugged at her lips before the expression faded into one of serious intent. “I don’t do one night stands, but I meant it when I said I want to spend the next five days having some serious fun. Since we have great chemistry, it makes sense to have fun with you instead of bringing home a different cowboy every night. It would be just physical, of course. I’m really not looking for a relationship.” Her gaze met his. “So how about it? Are you up for a repeat of last night?”

  “Hardly.” She frowned and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I was hoping it would be even better.”

  And then he grabbed her hand and led her out of the bar.

  WHEN THEY ARRIVED back at the motel, Abby didn’t waste any time on small talk. True to her word, she kept things strictly physical and stripped off her clothes. Once she’d shed everything, she reached for his T-shirt.

  He lifted his arms and let her slide the cotton over his head. She backed him toward the bed then until the backs of his knees hit the mattress and he sat down on the edge.

  Then she dropped to her knees and wedged herself between his legs as she leaned forward. Her lips closed over his right nipple. Her teeth caught him, her tongue flicking out to ply the nub.

  “Holy hell,” he ground out, his gaze fixed on her head as she suckled him. Her body wedged closer, pressing against his massive hard-on and his gut tightened. His pulse raced and he had the sudden image of her trailing her lips lower, unzipping his pants and taking him into her mouth.

  Her moist red lips pressed against his skin and stirred the hunger. He could feel the need bubbling inside of her. He threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her close and soaking up the sweet heat.

  But there was more. He felt his own lust building until he wanted nothing more than to haul her into his lap, press her back against the mattress and devour her ripe nipples. He wanted to spread her legs. To slide into her. To sink his fangs into her sweet, delectable neck. He wouldn’t.

  This was sex, he reminded himself, determined to stay focused. Even more, this was her show. He’d taken the lead last night, but it was her turn now.

  She pulled back and stared up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Do you like that?”

  He nodded and her slim fingers reached out to unfasten his jeans. “Do you like this?” Her knuckles grazed him as she worked the zipper o
ver his hard length. His entire body trembled in anticipation. He tilted up just enough to let her pull his jeans and underwear down to his hips.

  His penis jutted forward. The veins bulged, the skin slick and tight. A white drop beaded on the head and her gaze riveted on it. She licked at her bottom lip once, twice, and then she leaned forward. Her tongue flicked out and she lapped at his essence.

  Electricity zapped him and his nerves started to tingle. She licked him from root to tip, making him burn hotter before drawing him into the wet heat of her mouth.

  He closed his eyes as hunger sucker-punched him in the gut. His jaw ached and his fangs tingled. He knew she would see the truth if she glanced up at him and so he cradled her head, urging her to continue even though her mouth was pure torture.

  He needed her to stop, but he couldn’t stop her.

  He didn’t want to.

  Pleasure drenched his body and he braced himself against coming right then and there. It wasn’t about his own orgasm. That wasn’t how it worked. He was the one who fed off of her excitement, her ecstasy. He didn’t even have to come to feel satisfied.

  But he wanted to.

  He gathered his composure and forced his eyes open. Her silky hair trailed over his lap and he reached down, pushing the soft strands back so that he could see her face. He meant to pull her away, but he couldn’t help himself. He watched as her red lips slid over his hard length. She suckled him, swirling her tongue around and around, pushing him closer to the brink. So close—

  With a growl, he cupped her face and pushed her away. Her confused gaze collided with his. “Did I do something wrong?”

  It was the perfect opportunity to kill the heat between them and say “Yes, you’re not any good at oral sex.”

  But he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Not with her looking so uncertain and so damned beautiful.

  “You did everything just right.” Satisfaction beamed in her gaze and filled him with a strange sense of warmth.

  She slid up his body and touched her lips to his.

  He tasted his own essence and it stirred the beast that lived and breathed inside of him. His tongue tangled with hers and he deepened the kiss, wanting to consume her the way she’d consumed him only a few moments ago. The kiss was hot and wet and mesmerizing. So much more than ever before.

  Because she was so much more.

  He pushed aside the startling thought and reached for her hips, pulling her down onto his lap, and urging her legs up on either side of him.

  He cupped her bottom and plunged into her slick flesh. Fire shot through him and thunder pounded in his ears. Finally her soft voice pushed past his sensual haze and he became aware of her hand splayed against his chest.

  “We need protection,” she breathed.

  He wanted to tell her that he couldn’t hurt her. That he would never hurt her because of what he was. But he’d vowed never to reveal himself to anyone ever again.

  Keep quiet and keep moving. That had been his motto since Lila had turned on him.

  Never again would he make that same mistake.

  No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.

  He withdrew and reached for his pants. A few seconds later, he retrieved a foil packet.

  She took it from him, pulled out the contents and reached down between them. Her fingers brushed and stroked as she slid the condom over his throbbing length. And then she braced her hands against his chest and drew him deep into her body with one swift, downward motion.

  The pleasure was so intense that a groan rumbled from deep in his throat. His entire body went rigid and he clenched his teeth to keep from closing his mouth over her neck and sinking his fangs into her as deep as his cock.

  “Don’t move.” He held onto her sweet ass, his fingers pressing into her softness as he held her still and tried to gather his wits.

  He had to think.

  To stay in control.

  He intended to, but then she arched her back, drawing him in deeper, and shot his intentions to hell and back. Pure pleasure washed over him and need pumped through his veins.

  It was a feeling that intensified as she started to ride him, her body clasping his as she moved up and down, side to side. He braced his thighs, holding himself rigid as he massaged her buttocks and pressed hungry kisses to her throat. Her pulse beat against his lips and his throat went dry. His jaw ached.

  He took every downward thrust, and met her with an upward plunge. Harder. Faster. Until she reached her breaking point. Her forehead wrinkled and her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  He caught her fierce cry with his mouth and gathered her close as she shook, her climax crashing over her, drenching her and flowing into him from every point of contact. His cock deep inside her. His arms locked tight. Their bodies flush together.

  Energy sizzled along his nerve endings and suddenly it was too much. He exploded, his own cry echoing in his ears, along with the frantic beat of her heart. His back arched and his vision clouded a bright brilliant purple.

  Her gasp drew his attention and he realized all too late that she was staring smack dab at him. Into him. Shock twisted her features, but there was something else, as well. A strange sense of wonder that killed any fear and kept her gaze locked with his.

  She stared at him, seeing him for what he was and the truth crystallized at that moment. Abby Trenton didn’t just pose a threat to his existence.

  With her sweet smile and her freckled nose and her stubborn attitude, she posed a major threat to his heart. He’d never met a woman like her before.

  And he never would again.

  He knew it as he stared into her gaze. He also knew that he was falling in love with her and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to stop it.

  14

  SHE STARED AT HIM a moment longer before reality seemed to sink in and her eyes went wide. Fear rushed through her and blazed bright in her eyes. Suddenly, Brent forgot all about love and falling.

  She’d seen him.

  Holy shit, she’d seen him.

  But he had an even bigger problem. His hunger stirred. His gut twisted and his body shook. He needed a drink. He needed her.

  The truth pounded through his head and sent a rush of panic through him. He broke the contact between them, scrambling away. He stumbled to his feet and staggered backwards. His back came up hard against the opposite wall and he heard the crack of plaster. His stomach clenched and his muscles contorted. His mouth watered and his fangs ached. His gaze riveted on her lush body and an invisible hand tightened around him and squeezed.

  Abby watched as Brent’s eyes blazed a bright, furious red. His teeth pulled back and his fangs glittered and for a split-second, she wanted to rush over to him and give him what he so obviously needed. Blood.

  Her blood.

  Denial rushed through her, along with fear. Not the fear of him, but of herself, her reaction. Because for a split second, against the better judgment she’d honed for months in the field, she’d wanted to help him. To reach out. To offer herself.

  She still did.

  She rushed hell for leather for the bathroom and tried to ignore the ridiculous notion. The door slammed and she flipped the lock.

  He was a vampire.

  A real, honest-to-goodness vampire.

  She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes. Even now, she wasn’t one hundred percent certain and her mind raced for a more plausible explanation. The margaritas. She’d had almost three. Translation? She was drunk. Hallucinating. That had to be it.

  Why, this entire night was probably just a bad dream. A crazy nightmare wrought from too much alcohol and a lifetime of deprivation when it came to her sexuality. She’d buried her desires far too long and now everything was rushing to the surface, making her punchy and distorting her sense of reality.

  That’s what it was.

  A nightmare.

  One she would wake up from all too soon.

  “
We need to talk.” His deep voice slid into her ears, pulling her back to reality and nailing home the truth—this wasn’t her imagination. She felt the bare tile beneath her feet, the anxiety pressing down on her. “Please,” he added.

  So much desperation filled the one word and she almost opened the door. It wasn’t a dream. Just a big misunderstanding. There were no such things as vampires. She was having a hallucination. A margarita induced hallucination. The next thing she knew, she would be seeing little green men in sombreros.

  “I know this is a lot to grasp.”

  The air lodged in her chest as shock beat at her already numb brain. She rushed to the sink. Flipping on the faucet, she plunged her hands beneath the cool water and splashed some onto her face, as if she could wash away the images that rolled through her head.

  “You’re not a vampire,” she heard herself say. “There’s no such thing.”

  “There is,” he said after a long moment, as if the words were as hard to say as they were for her to hear. “I know it seems crazy, but it’s true.”

  “A vampire? A real vampire?” She knew she sounded like a raving lunatic repeating herself, but she couldn’t help it. She was trying to grasp the impossible and her brain just didn’t want to accept it. “Vampires don’t exist. Only on TV and in books. Not in real life.”

  “We exist,” he said quietly. “I’m not allergic to garlic and crosses don’t bother me, but I’m still a vampire. My senses are heightened and I can do things that most men only dream about. I’m strong and I can hear things. And when I look into someone’s eyes I can see what they’re thinking, too. Usually…” His voice trailed off for a long moment. “But not with you. For some reason, I can’t see into your thoughts. Just the occasional glimpse. You’re strong, Abby.”

  Which explained why she was cowering in the bathroom and clutching the edges of the sink like an idiot.

  “I’ve never met a woman like you. You’re different. Special.”