by Anna Jeffrey
“Let ’em wonder.” He gently walked her backward until she was pressed against the shower wall.
“We shouldn’t do this,” she said. “We don’t have time.”
“You’re wet now. It’ll be easier. We’ll just pick up where we left off Sunday. Put you leg around my butt.”
She obeyed, he slid his hand between them and just like that, he was inside her. “Aww, yeah.” He grinned.
He kissed her hungrily and she kissed him back. He pulled his mouth away. “You don’t have to move,” he said breathily, beginning to pump in and out of her. “Just be still and let me fuck you. I’ll make it feel good.”
She had no doubt of that. He moved with a slow and steady rhythm, the root of him pressing her clitoris with every stroke. She panted. His breath came in huffs. But he still managed to softly coo naughty words in her ear. One hand went beneath her bottom and he lifted her, enabling him to push deeper, exert greater pressure. Tension began to build. That indescribable tingle struck the core of her sex and she began to clench around him.
“Mandy….That’s it, baby….Squeeze my cock….Just like that…”
Another orgasm shattered her. He came again, too, and they stood there helpless as the shower spray beat down on both of them.
Finally, he released her. He stepped back, pushing his wet hair back from his face and grinning. “I damn near drowned.”
“And you don’t even like water.” She slid her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly. After a few beats, she found a smile and looked up at him. “That was nice.”
He grinned. “I thought so.”
They left the shower and he briskly dried her with a thick towel, kissing various body parts as he changed the location of the towel. Amanda’s lack of sleep was catching up with her. “What time is it?”
He picked up his watch from the vanity and glanced at it. “Still pretty early.”
“Do you think I’d have time to grab a quick nap? I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Why not? What’s bothering you, Mandy?”
Amanda’s eyelids were so heavy she could barely keep them open. “Just things.” A huge yawn overtook her. “I’m so sorry, but I am so sleepy.”
“Let’s cuddle up on the couch. I didn’t get much sleep either. I didn’t leave Drake’s house ’til nearly eleven.”
What did he have to discuss with Drake until that hour of the night? Secrets. Pic had always shared his deepest secrets with his big brother. “You usually go to bed with the chickens,” she said.
“I know. And I get up with ’em, too.”
Without dressing, they settled on the sofa beneath the two afghans that stayed on the sofa arm, with him spooned behind her. The air conditioning unit came on, blowing a chilly breeze across them. “Hmm. The air’s so cool,” she mumbled. “It feels so good lying here with you like this.
“Let’s doze a minute.” He arranged the afghans. She snuggled in closer against him and he wrapped his arm around her waist.
As she drifted off, in case this was the last time, she said, “In case you don’t know, Pic, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
His arm tightened around her middle. “I know that, Mandy.”
She waited for him to say it back, but if he did, she missed it. She couldn’t stay awake.
Chapter 23
“What in the hell are you doing?” The female voice blared like a foghorn.
Amanda’s eyes popped open. Kate, Pic’s little sister, stood in the doorway. If she’d had a megaphone, she couldn’t have been louder. Blinking herself awake and grabbing for the afghan, Amanda popped up to a sitting position.
“Kate!” Pic growled. “What in the hell are you doing in here? The damn door was locked.”
His groin pressed against Amanda’s backside, Pic tugged on the afghan. He, too, was naked.
Kate strolled into the room, her hands open. “Hey. You think I don’t have a key? You ordered me to come home, Bro. So here I am.”
She walked over to the coffee pot, poured herself a mug and proceeded to add cream and sugar. She wore a tight, hot pink muscle shirt that said CRUEL GIRL across her breasts. A row of rhinestones marched down the outside seam of her tight jeans, all the way to her pink ostrich quill boots. She had always been a clotheshorse and a glamour-girl. Even in school, her closets had bulged with expensive garments and boots. It went without saying that every girl in school envied her.
“And I must say,” she said, helping herself to Coffee-mate and sugar, “Even though I saw Mandy’s car outside, I did not expect to walk into the office and find you two diddling on the couch. I thought you might be playing chess or something.”
Her face heated, Amanda gathered the afghan tighter around her.
Kate dropped her spoon on the counter, crossed the room to the sofa and took a seat beside Amanda, her long blond ringlets falling over her tanned shoulder. Like all of the Lockharts, with sky blue eyes and perfect classic features, she was beautiful.
Kate gave her an elbow. “Tell me something, Li’l Mermaid. Is my big brother any good in the sack?”
Amanda’s face went from hot to flaming.
“Stop being an ass, Kate,” Pic grumbled. “You need to get outta here.”
She turned and looked down at him, her expression indignant. “Can’t I have a cup of coffee? My God. I drove half the night. God forbid that I should be late for the picnic.” She turned her attention back to Amanda. “If it wasn’t for him”—she pointed behind herself with a be-ringed, French-manicured thumb—“I could be in Colorado right now where it’s cool. You didn’t answer my question. Is he any good?” She gave Amanda a wink. "I’ve heard things, you know. When we were all in school, there was plenty of gossip.”
Kate was deliberately aggravating her big brother. It happened often when the two of them were together. Pic wouldn’t admit it to most people, but he loved it. True, there were no secrets in Drinkwell High School. Amanda, too, had heard things about Pic and his brother.
“Why don’t you two get married?” Kate asked.
Marriage is not a hot topic for your big brother, Amanda wanted to say, but kept her silence.
“I mean it,” Kate went on. “That’s bound to be easier than what y’all are doing now, sneaking around like a couple of teenagers.”
“We’re not sneaking around,” Pic groused. “You need to leave so we can get dressed.”
“All right already. I can tell when I’m not wanted.” Kate got to her feet, walked over to Pic’s desk and set her mug on the corner. “Guess I’ll see ya at the party.”
She started for the door. As she put her hand on the knob, Pic said, “Don’t you dare tell anybody we’re in here.”
She gave a wicked cackle and strode through the doorway, slamming the door behind her.
“Shit,” Pic said.
Amanda wasn’t worried that Kate would tattle on them. She had been only one grade ahead of Kate and Troy in school, so in a way, she had known Pic’s sister and Troy longer than she had known him. Her brow arched. “Did you really order her to come home from somewhere?”
“Brenham. She was down there at a horse show.” Pic sat up behind her and maneuvered to his feet, his masculine beauty on full display.
Amanda drank in the sight of him—his perfectly formed manhood, his flat, firm belly, the flex of his thick thighs, honed by a lifetime horseback. He could be a Greek statue. Amanda had already resigned herself that for the rest of her life, she would never know a male physical specimen quite as perfect as Pic.
“She’s been shacked up for a week with some dude she met at the show,” he said. “He’s got a plane. She was about to take off with him to Colorado. I caught up with her just in time.” He bent and started gathering their clothes. “I told her to get her ass back here. She shouldn’t be fucking around like that.”
Pic wanted his little sister to be the epitome of femininity, but Kate was the opposite. She might look like a girly-girl, but she could outride and o
ut-rope many men. He wanted her to be pure and moral, but Kate had a long way to go to reach the pinnacle Pic had imagined for her.
With her being four years younger, he had always had a highhanded attitude toward her. Amanda wasn’t shocked by that, but being in a bad mood already, she was annoyed by his hypocrisy. She cleared her throat. “That wouldn’t be the pot calling the kettle black, would it?”
Pic straightened and looked at her, his shorts in one hand and her panties in the other, making it hard to appreciate his indignant expression. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You have no right to criticize her. Not only is she a grown woman, which makes her social life none of your business, you and your brothers have done your fair share of fucking around….I’m just saying…”
“She’s a girl, forgodssake. Girls shouldn’t be doing that stuff.”
“I’m a girl. Are you saying I shouldn’t be doing what we just did? But it’s okay for you?”
“That’s different, Mandy.”
“Listen to yourself. No. It is not.” She got to her feet, yanked her panties from his hand and stepped into them. He stood there naked and staring at her, his fists jammed against his hips, his underwear dangling from one fist.
She picked up her bra and stretched it around herself, hooked it and pulled up the straps. Suddenly extreme anger on top of all of the other emotions coursing through her got the best of her and she had to vent. “Let me ask you something. What did you think of the women you picked up in bars? I’ve heard the stories of your various adventures. The people in town still talk about you getting hogtied to the bed naked and left in a motel room in Fort Worth by that LPRA roping champion. The maid had to untie you. And Jenna Wall? She told me personally that she broke a bottle of whiskey against your windshield because you were doing it with her friend at the same time you were doing it with her.”
By now, he had yanked on his briefs and was stepping into his jeans. He wouldn’t look at her. She had touched a nerve, reminding him of his randy past with women. Maybe she had said too much, but she had wanted to say it for a long time.
“Mandy, we’ve talked through all of that.” A touch of incredulity laced his tone, as if he couldn’t believe she had said those things. “That was years ago. I was a kid. I don’t do that stuff anymore. You know that.”
True. Or at least she believed it was true. But she didn’t seem to be able to beat back the bitch who had suddenly taken over her tongue. “Pic, I’m not attacking you. I’m just saying just…just leave your sister alone. She’s twenty- nine years old. You can’t run her life….Listen, we need to get over to those barbecue grills. Your dad probably wonders what we’re doing.”
“Mandy. If Dad knows we’re here, which he probably does, he knows what we’re doing, okay? He isn’t exactly a monk, you know.”
“Well I certainly don’t want to flaunt it. I don’t like that Marcus knows what we’re doing either. I prefer that my private life be private.”
They finished dressing in silence. He came to her and pulled her into his arms. “Baby, I’m not sure what we’re fighting about, but let’s stop it, okay. When this damn picnic’s over, we’ll straighten everything out, okay? But meanwhile, don’t get upset at Marcus and Chris. They’re trying to keep you safe. I’d never get over it if something happened to you because you know me and my family.”
She nodded, ducking her chin. “I didn’t mean to pick an argument. I’ve—I’ve got some things on my mind.”
“Don’t you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
She couldn’t. Saying all that was in her mind might be so damaging neither of them could recover. She shook her head. “Not right now. We need to get over to the barbecue. It’s just…things. School things.”
“If somebody’s done something that’s upsetting you, tell me who it is and I’ll beat the shit out of him.”
“Really, Pic? In all of our lives, I’ve never known you to beat the shit out of someone.”
He grinned. “Okay. So I’m a lover, not a fighter. I’ll sic Drake on him.”
Amanda rolled her eyes. “You are such a mess of contradictions. Will I ever figure you out?”
“You’ve already got me figured out, baby. Fact is, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. Let’s go see what’s going on with those grills. I didn’t have breakfast and that raunchy fucking depleted my energy. I could eat half that pig.’”
She gave him a frown and a gasp.
They left the office and walked toward the canopy tent where Bill Junior and Smoky were cooking. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” He grinned and interlocked their fingers as they walked.
They found Bill Junior preparing thick steaks the size of a plate. A whole hog turned on a spit over a bed of hot coals. A huge cast iron pot of beans simmered over an open fire. Sweat glistened on Bill Junior and Smokey’s faces. Johnnie Sue and one of the women from town who had come out to help her drove up in a golf cart bringing a washtub full of shucked ears of corn. No doubt huge bowls of salads waited in the refrigerators in the ranch house.
Ranch hands and their families had begun to show up and even a few people from town. The band had arrived and was setting up at the end of the wooden dance floor.
Bill Junior greeted her with a left-arm hug, his right hand hidden inside a large cooking mitt and holding a pair of giant tongs. “Welcome, darlin’. Haven’t seen you since branding. Where you been keeping yourself?”
“Mornin’, Mandy,” Smoky said, wiping his right hand on his apron and offering it to her.
She shook his hand. “Looks like it’s going to be hot today, Smoky. You two have got your work cut out for you, slaving over these grills.”
The foreman gave her a shy smile. “It don’t matter, long as the meat turns out good.”
Smoky was a quiet gentle man like her dad. In fact, he and her dad had known each other. She had often wondered what Bill Junior and Pic would do without him. As they all stood talking, Amanda felt as if she were part of the family. Except for Pic’s mother, all of the Lockharts treated her as if she were. She had to wonder now when Betty would show up. The thought gave her sense of wellbeing a little quake.
Soon, Troy appeared. He and Pic man-hugged. “It’s about time you showed up, you little fart,” Pic told him. “What I want to know is what were you doing hanging out with Jordan Palmer?”
Troy laughed. “Just enjoying life.” He walked over and gave their dad a hug. Obviously, he had no intention of answering Pic’s question. He returned to where Amanda stood with Pic, leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Hey, pretty lady. You’re out awful early. You smell good, too.”
Pic’s body wash. She laughed. “I know.”
“So what’s the latest tale traveling the grapevine about poor ol’ Troy Rattigan?”
She hadn’t seen Troy since the Easter family dinner, but she had heard plenty about him. Suspicion that he’d had something to do with his sister’s barn burning was still constant talk in town, though the incident had occurred back in December. Couple that with the scandal relentlessly going around Drinkwell about her affair with Pic made her and Troy gossip buddies.
“The usual,” she said wryly. “You can’t escape it.”
Troy had eyes the color of strong coffee, a reminder of his half-Hispanic mother. But except for his eyes, he looked like his father and was every bit as handsome. Behavior-wise, there was no denying he was Bill Lockhart’s son.
“Shit, Mandy. I can’t believe they still think I set Kate’s barn on fire.”
Just then, the eyes of every male present diverted to something behind her. She turned to see what had drawn their attention and her jaw dropped in horror.
****
Over Mandy’s head, Pic watched Zochi walk toward them from the guesthouse. Time seemed to hang suspended. By now, every person present stopped and looked. Even the band stopped tuning instruments. Pic bit down on the inside of his lip.
She had on a white short skirt that covered only slightly more than Mandy’s bikini panties. The garment hung on her hips so far below her navel, there wasn’t much left to imagine. But Pic could imagine because he had seen and he had a vivid memory of her standing against the dresser, resting the heels of her hands on the top and allowing his eyes to feast on all that she had to offer.
That shiny object glittered in her navel. Nipple impressions showed through a tiny green T-shirt that stopped a few inches below her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. That glass-like bauble lay between her breasts, catching the morning sunlight and giving off a prism of colors. Her hair was pinned up, but loose curls drifted around her face and neck.
In spite of just having kick-ass sex with Mandy in the office, Pic felt a stir in his shorts. He wanted to swerve his gaze to the steaks on one of the grills, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He swallowed.
“Holy shit,” Troy mumbled.
“Oh, my God,” Mandy said. “Who is that?”
“Zoshamella,” Dad said. He, too, stared. After a few beats, he added, “She’s here taking pictures.”
Pic caught Troy’s gaze and arched his brow. Grinning like a damn monkey, Troy gave a lascivious chuckle. “She’s after you, Big Brother? No shit?”
“Shut up, loudmouth,” Pic stage whispered.
Troy placed a hand on Pic’s shoulder. “Bro, I just want you to know that if you still want me to do you a favor, I’m proud to do it.”
Zochi beamed a wide white smile that encompassed all of them.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Dad said, putting down his tongs and removing his hot mitt. He caught her arm, turned her toward Mandy and Troy and made an introduction, saying her name wrong again. Pic gave an inward sigh.
Mandy, ever kind and gracious, offered her right hand. “How do you do?”
Zochi gave Mandy only seconds of attention before turning on megawatts at Troy. It dawned on Pic that if she had met Troy first, she could just as easily have come on to him as to Pic. With a woman like Zochi, in almost any environment, men—any and all men—were who always had her undivided interest. Pic would never say it aloud, but his ego felt a bruise.