Take All Of Me: A Brother’s Best Friend, Sibling Rivalry Romantic Suspense Novel (The Takers Series Book 1)

by Sienna Evans

  His lips crushed into mine long enough to send a flood of moisture between my legs. Yet before I could thrust my sweetness onto him, he dipped two fingers down inside of me. I lost all reasoning as my hips swayed forward, backward, and from side to side.

  “Don't tease me,” I begged.

  “Or else what?” he mumbled against my lips, but then dropped lower to my chest. His tongue graced my mounds in a slow assault, until he reached the peaks of my nipples in twirls. They screamed out to be gnawed and taken in between his teeth; to be moistened by the warmth of his breath.

  “Damn!” I cried. My legs flew open wide, only to crash around his arms and plow him further into my pussy. He pulled out every ounce of vulnerability I ever tried to keep to myself. While I squirmed and twisted around beneath his newfound ownership, I couldn't help but crave him more by the second. Greyson’s lips were curled into a wicked grin. And though I would've preferred to be vulnerable in the dark, the view was incredible. I got sucked into his torture.

  “Let it go” he ordered.

  “Wh-what? Let. What. Go?” I forced out. My hips were still grinding on his arm, but I couldn't control the madness building up. As much as I enjoyed him fingering me, I needed to return the favor and make him just as weak as he was making me. You have to understand, I've never felt so hot for anyone. Ever. Knowing how relentless of a lover he was, I had to match his passion. So, I spun out of his grip. In a semi-aggressive spin, I took control. Honestly, he might've just allowed me to.

  Greyson challenged my authority by spreading his arms above my head. With the growing seconds of my cries trailing in the air, I used his effects on me as a guide to return the favor. I pulled and tugged apart his legs. My fingers claimed his shaft. I pumped up and down with one hand while I set out on a course of exploration with the other. My lips and tongue kissed and sucked on his skin. He had this type of tough, silky feel to him that I craved by the second. Forget about being decent. I attacked him like a wild beast.

  —

  “Talk to me.” I'd flopped down on the bed nearly two hours later as Greyson got dressed.

  “About…”

  “Brendan. You.”

  “Some other time.”

  “No. Now. I need to know what happened with you guys.”

  “That's the past, Celeste.”

  “The only way I can understand the future is if I first understand the past.”

  “All you need to understand is stay away from him.” After lowering the tee shirt over his chest, Greyson returned to the side of the bed. I was still naked, comfortably. A huge part of me wished he’d take me up and bury his head between my legs. Seriously though, he hadn't even gone yet, and I was starting to miss him already.

  “You have to give me something, man. After everything we went through over the past several hours, you're really not going to fill me in?” Our eyes held each other. His embraced me with a mysterious darkness he'd always carried from as far back as I could remember.

  Greyson’s lips then sought mine. This time, I didn't give in. Instead, I pressed them shut, knowing good and well where this would lead if I didn't stand my ground. But then he smiled wide and stood up, stretching his legs out one at a time.

  Grinning, he whispered, “You're so persistent.”

  I knew I'd finally chipped away at the walls. My smile stretched from ear to ear in preparation for his story. Although we'd somewhat grown up together, all I ever knew was that one day everything seemed equal and the next it didn't.

  “My life shifted so much that I don’t know where to begin. I had an amazing family. You know that, Celeste.” I nodded in agreement. “But some things just can't stay intact. Between Brendan and me, one of us was bound to take the high road. The other was meant to end up in the slum. I need you to understand.” He paused just above my forehead. His breath tickled more than the skin on my face. “I don't ever want you to think I've done anything bad on purpose. I'm not this person they've made me out to be. Causing trouble, that’s not my forte.”

  “Talk to me about Brendan. What happened?” I asked, returning a curious stare which he held for the five-seconds it took to add distance between us.

  Greyson's fingers flushed through his short, cropped dark red hair. “I pulled the short straw. That's what happened.”

  “But Brendan's a dick!” I blurted out, sitting erect at the edge of the bed.

  Greyson turned for the wall like he was being condemned for life. Along the side of his face, right at his temple, veins flexed. It broke my heart to know that somewhere deep down inside he might've been bottling the pain. “He's crooked!” I cried out, though my throat croaked.

  This time, when Greyson’s gaze met mine, his entire face contoured. Thin, pale lips dipped at the edge while he barked, “And somehow better off than me.”

  If you only knew, I wanted to say. If he knew an ounce of what they'd done, he’d never look back at those Russians ever again and question if he was on the winning side. He'd never feel inferior to his brother, if he knew how dark Brendan was inside. “Those men are smuggling all types of stuff, including trafficking girls. Your brother is in their pockets, and probably had a hand in Quinn's death too.”

  And then he shrugged like none of this mattered. I know he wasn't trying to come across as uncaring, but I only needed time to process what he'd opened up about. If he could send every thought from out of his mind and take a moment to get real with me, just to know what’s really hidden behind his harsh exterior, what would I find? I needed more. I needed every grimy detail of his life from the days he'd disappeared, right down to the near two years he'd missed out of our lives.

  “You owe me this much, Greyson! Please?” Personally, I had no intentions of adding to his distress, even though he refused to move forward just yet. In truth, I badly wanted to get down from the bed and caress him from head to toe. I didn't know if that was due to my urge to help others or this burning desire to have all of him. Either way, it mattered more by the seconds. “You owe me, Greyson Michaels.”

  I smirked when his eyebrows shot up. And when his tongue trailed out from between his lips, I stood up and walked off towards the window, naked as the day I was born. With that move of his, I was bound to straddle his lap and forget what I'd pumped tons of time into.

  “This is a dangerous game, Celeste,” Greyson warned from out of left field. “My life or Brendan's twisted up world is no place for you.”

  I spun on my heels, finding it necessary to secure several more inches, feet even, between us. I wanted to get closer, but that would lead to other things. As much as my body had begun sparking again, the lawyer in me burned with curiosity. He was still seated, but instead of nesting on the edge of the bed like before, was now sprawled across. His feet remained on the ground.

  “Are you looking to step over to the dark side? If so, that’s not going to happen on my watch. Because, Celeste, you're innocent—”

  Innocent? I almost wanted to laugh. Almost. So, I teased, “I’m only looking to help out—”

  “No.” He shot up. His lips contoured into a scowl, and then he nodded giving me permission to proceed. “Who’d you help out?”

  “Quit trying to deflect.”

  He smirked with the sexiest pair of pink lips I’d ever seen. “I can't decide if you're persistent or just nosey.”

  “Either way, I’m only looking to piece things together.” I paced in the sunlight, and then finally moved away from the shades, slowly sauntering closer. “I need more.”

  “Why, Celeste? Leave it alone.” He squinted, taking one leg, bending the knee and resting the ankle of his boot over the other knee. He reeked of arrogance, even in this simple gesture. Without actually asking, without any type of force, I felt a pull to do whatever it would take to set him straight. When he asked why, I honestly couldn't give an answer, only that I needed to know every detail.

  How can I convince him that it’s just something I’m compelled to do? Other than the fact that he’s sp
arked areas in and throughout my body, our connection wasn't enough to blind me to reality. For someone that flew through grade school like it was a kiddie race, and tackled law school before their peers could blink, I was no dummy. Moreover, this wasn't a want. This was a need to know and do anything to right the past as I secured the future. So instead of answering the question and breaking the silence, I reached for a throw. When I turned around to face him, he'd gotten back up.

  Inches apart. Inches separated us.

  Neither one of us moved. For more than ten-seconds, we fed on the air between us. My neck strained as I extended my gaze up into his gorgeous face. His pupils examined me with a hint of curiosity; as for mine, I only imagined how desperate I must’ve looked. My heart pulsated. He was large enough and wide enough to take me into his arms. I wanted him so badly I felt it down in my gut. God, I yearned to feel his hands gripping all over me, and that fierce cock diving deep within me.

  “Are you okay?” Greyson asked.

  I considered playing the nice, vulnerable damsel in distress. For a second I toyed with the idea of having him carry me over to the bed again. I might've even tossed the soft throw onto the floor, to use my body in exchange for more information.

  “We're crossing signals. Is this conversation about getting back in the bed or talking about my past?”

  “Just the bed?”

  He smirked. “You're relentless!”

  “On my way to becoming a lawyer, you know.”

  “I know…”

  “Well?”

  “Take your pick, get fucked or get info?”

  “Both,” I replied, popping my lips in the process. “What happened with you and Brendan? I mean, really . . .”

  “Am I on trial? If so, then Your Honor, I plead the fifth.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, yes, you’re on trial.” I purposely gave an abrasive reply and pointed to the sofa on the other end of the room. “And pleading the fifth doesn’t work with me.”

  “It's obvious that my brother is a jerk but it was a real messed up situation.”

  Greyson leaned forward in the seat. He moved closer, right at my thighs. I glanced into his pupils and exhaled, resting my gaze perhaps a moment too long on his kissable pink lips. My insides warmed. He wasn't even trying to entice me, but sweat formed under my arms and breasts, and even between my thighs. I’ve always been smaller in body, yet sometimes felt cursed to have thicker thighs.

  “Please keep going.”

  “Well, Brendan and I were working at Cohen Industries that summer before he went into the academy. Remember?” I nodded. Greyson continued, “The old man actually ran a legitimate agency, even though that wasn’t always the case. But while I was there, things were supposedly on the up and up.” Greyson stood up from the seat, moving around the room like it was his instead of mine.

  He paced in the center, while I turned to get another throw. I reclaimed my spot at the edge of the chair just in time for him to rest his left palm on my knee. It was only there for about two seconds; that was enough. Fire rose to my cheeks. He had to see how toasty I got from being next to him.

  “Mr. Cohen called me into his office one day. He said there was an issue that needed handling. An associate was on the verge of bringing down the image he’d spent close to five years building. His entire future was at risk. I don't know why it mattered to me. Just did. This guy, Martinez, was our target. Mr. Cohen said he believed that if he was able to take down his opponent first, he would always remain safe.”

  “You were a kid.”

  “Twenty.”

  “What line of business was this guy really in?” I quizzed, already assuming the worst.

  He looked around, but eventually settled focus on me. “I’m not sure. I can only tell you my side of things.”

  I nodded in approval.

  He continued. “So, he had me go with some guys. Said I would be in charge.”

  “Brendan too?”

  “No, this wasn't supposed to include everyone. He wasn't included.”

  “Oh… Did he ever find out?”

  “Who’s telling this story, CeCe?” I held up both palms in surrender. “Celeste…”

  I nibbled on the inside of my lips. “I'm sorry, Greyson. I'll be quiet.”

  “We’d busted into a warehouse that was supposed to be stacked with smuggled containers. Cohen wanted us to fool with Martinez's head. Or at least that’s what he told me. I told the men to take care of the workers and bodyguards.” He stood to his feet. As before, his hand touched on my knee. I could have slid right off that sofa, if it meant that he would catch me. Instead of acting desperate, I shook it off and leaned back.

  “You have to forgive me. Every time I think about how they set me up, I want to go find him. You know . . .” He was talking and pacing but now returned to his seat. He reached for my sides, and cupped his hands behind me. He knelt between my legs.

  “Nope,” I screeched in between giggles. I laid my palms on my knees. But he wrapped his much larger fingers around mine and caressed them.

  Greyson licked his lips. “I believe in loyalty, in everything. Didn't always,” he declared. That addendum didn't fly over my head, but even as he slipped it in, I took in wider, brighter, sincerer pupils.

  “I… this might've been a summer job, but I was loyal with my job.”

  “I can't help but think you're leaving something out.”

  “Who's the one with the answers?”

  “Whatever!”

  “Can I keep going?”

  I smiled. Moved my head up and down.

  “I didn’t think to doubt or double check anything. I was my brother’s keeper, and I thought the same applied to the other men. But I neglected one key factor. They were Cohen’s men, not mine.” As his rant continued, his hands cuddled mine; even his thumbs rubbed across the back of my hands. He stripped away what little doubt I had and invited me to trust in his word. Not words, but his word in who he really was. I steadied my chest and exhaled. I tripped up my chin to let him know I did . . . I trusted his word. I trusted him, Greyson Michaels.

  “God Celeste, I pulverized Martinez; busted into his office and owned his life. The warehouse had been lit up when we first got there, but after I’d made it into the main office in the back, it was like someone cut the power. Backup lights ran along the ceilings and a few spots on the walls.

  “And then it got quiet. No more punches being thrown, no voices. Nothing. I didn’t take a gun because I thought the men would have my back. But we didn’t think guns would be needed. This was just supposed to be a shakedown. It seemed like me and Martinez were the only ones there. I meant honestly, whether his guys or my guys had taken the upper hand, somebody should've been moving around, right?”

  I mouthed, “Yes,” before licking my lips.

  He paused and stared at me, my mouth to be exact, but then waved his hand and returned to his story. “Martinez picked up on this and said, ‘Do you even know what you’re doing, kid?’ What I’m doing? I grabbed him from the ground and slammed him against the wall. He laughed and said, ‘Greyson, Cohen set you up! What did you do to piss him off, man?’ But at the time, I didn’t know how he knew my name and how he was so sure I’d pissed off Cohen. I ignored all his warnings and decided to go back outside. But I wasn’t willing to do that alone. The other men were going to come with me. I called out for Jones, Keaton, Paulson and Brick. No one answered, not a single one of those bastards.”

  “Five of us set out for this job, dammit! I wasn’t prepared to leave out without them all. But it was too quiet. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that even if our guys had been taken out, Martinez’s men should have been there, right? And vice versa, if Martinez’s men had been taken out, where were Cohen’s men?

  “The office was at the far end. We left out. The middle of the building should have had rows of boxes stacked, even iron racks with containers of smuggled goods. I wanted to hope. Come to think of it, the place was now deserted, not like som
ewhere that had just been raided. But I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t noticed it when we first came in. There was one area with about ten barrels, that’s it. Actually, we came through the side entrance, which I couldn’t even see by this time. It appeared to be blocked by the new containers.

  “Martinez’s warning started to unfold. ‘Look around you, boy! Where are your buddies? Where are my men?’ I told him to shut up. The hair on the back of my neck rose. Deep down in my gut I knew something was up. I started sweating more and more. I was already wearing black from head to toe. And then that crook kept nagging in my ears.

  “By the time the realization hit me, I was ready to give up to whatever my faith would be, but I still took slower, smaller steps in pursuit of the truth. My heart pounded like hell. Tension rushed across my forehead, from the left temple to the right. Life didn’t only flash before you when dying. The what if, could have been, should have done. Every possible scenario flooded my mind. Not knowing exactly what lurked on the opposite side of the entrance made me uneasy. Uncertainty was something I avoided at all costs, except for times like then.

  “Within ten feet of the exit, the door busted open and federal officials piled into the building carrying MP5s and wearing war gear. I bit my lip shut, took a deep breath and allowed them to shove my face to the ground without apology. My mind went blank for a quick second until the whole scene flashed before my eyes. And then the memories became crueler. In the end, we learned that there were drugs in the barrel and readymade plans to assassinate Philip Cohen. I was initially charged as a co-conspirator with Martinez.”

  “You're kidding me, Greyson!” Streams of tears flowed down my cheeks. I couldn't stop the trembling over every inch of me. The room seemed to contract around me from every angle. I wanted to cry, to scream for being oblivious to the things he'd endured. Yet, all I could manage through the anger was, “H-How? W-When?”

  “My family brushed it under a rug. I was gone for less than two years—”

  “I remember when—when you disappeared. They said you turned your back on the family.” They'd avoided all mention of him. “Who knew?”