The Strand Brothers Series: Complete Set

by Lora Ann

  I had never wanted to orgasm so bad in all my life. Then, he decided to blow over my sensitive womanhood. “Ah…Nik, I can’t.”

  “Shh,” he soothed. “Yes, you can. Take those two fingers and turn them up. Find your g-spot. Do not rub it,” he ordered.

  I did what he asked and bucked when my fingers came in contact with my oh-so-happy spot. I hissed, “Now?”

  “Soon, baby,” he assured.

  I groaned in frustration. Bastard actually chuckled low in his throat and went on with his torture. “Remove the finger on your nub. Keep the other two inside you. Trace your secretions back over that muscle just below your entrance.” Damn! “Keep stroking. Now, turn those two fingers up and rub that special spot.” My eyes rolled back from the intensity. “Yes, like that.”

  He held me on the edge and refused to let me fall over. Just when I thought all hope of climax was over, he said, “With the hand inside you, use your thumb and rub your clit. Don’t come,” he demanded.

  I swear the man was demented. My back bowed off the bed. He grabbed my ankles to hold me in place. “Again, stroke your g-spot.”

  My head began to thrash back and forth as he continued, “Faster. Harder. Push your thumb down on your clit. Now.”

  As I came in wave after wave, drenching the bed, I screamed. Still, I couldn’t wrap my brain around the fact I’d done this to myself. Sure, I’ve pleasured myself in front of many clients, but never like that. Never had anyone directed what I did to my own body. There were no words for it. Nik released my ankles and pushed my body up the bed by my hips. While I lay there in post-orgasmic bliss, he grabbed the duvet. Once he’d seen to my comfort, he turned to leave. I mumbled, “Give me a few minutes. I’ll be ready for you.”

  With a poignant look, he stood there for a moment and then commented, “No, I’m good. Get some sleep.”

  I wanted to argue with him. But the fact remained; I was spent—too wiped out to even speak again. I rolled over and began to slip into slumber, as he shut off the lights and closed the door.

  My last coherent thought was, next time, Nik.

  Your.

  Turn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nik

  What had I just orchestrated? Never had I been so domineering with a woman. Hell, usually I didn’t care. Even though the women I’d been with had always climaxed. The least I could do. Yet, I had rules: like no kissing on either set of lips. Too damn intimate. Over the years I’d only made one exception, with no plans to do so again. Like most men, I loved to watch a woman manipulate herself into complete bliss. There was no opposition for her to use toys, either. Whatever she needed to achieve pleasure, I was cool with. But this experience was beyond the pale. My God…after that, how do I keep myself from returning to Aimee tonight? No matter how you looked at it, I was screwed six ways to Sunday.

  When E rounded the corner, I’d never been so grateful to see him. He did not miss my state of upheaval. Astute. Plus, no doubt, he could smell Aimee on me. I sure could, inhaling deeply to luxuriate in her heady scent. My mouth actually began to water. Shit! Some kind of release was necessary. I locked eyes with my brother and directed, “Gym.”

  He chuckled, “Weights? Or are we going to have a go at it?”

  Over my shoulder I asked, “Aren’t you worried I’ll mess up that pretty face of yours?”

  “Hell, no. Bring it,” he taunted.

  “Let’s do this, then.”

  One of the things I loved about my youngest brother was his willingness to fight me anytime, anywhere. He was good, too—could have done well in the UFC medium-weight division. But his tastes ran to the extreme—of the kinky sort. He always found women willing to let him do all sorts of erotic acts to them. How was beyond my comprehension. Fact was people all over the world practiced in the lifestyle, which was how his clubs were so successful. Usually he trained others, rarely participating anymore. According to him, he’d grown bored with a lot of it. Still, I didn’t buy it. My brother was not the type to go “vanilla.” He needed a submissive. This phase wouldn’t last long. And Heaven help the woman he unleashed all that pent up Dom frustration on. Sure hope she had some training; otherwise, I worried he might hurt someone from too much exotic sex.

  Due to the direction my mind had taken me, E got in a fantastic side kick and knocked me on my ass.

  “You may wanna get your head in the game, Nik,” he gibed.

  “Go ahead, keep talkin’ smack,” I mocked and then retaliated with a roundhouse, followed by three jabs and an upper cut to the jaw.

  He stumbled backwards. “That all y’got?”

  Smart ass. We had a great spar. I won, barely. As we mopped up the blood and sweat from the mat, he inquired. “So…Wanna tell me who I smell all over you?”

  “Nope,” I countered.

  He shook his head. “No worries. I think I figured it out.”

  “You don’t say.”

  He laughed. “I take it Aimee’s still here?”

  No sense in denying it. “Yeah, she is.”

  He nodded his head and asked, “Any news?”

  “Alex and her best friend, Renée, confirmed it was Reynolds,” I replied.

  “Crap! What now?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I marry her.”

  His eyes popped open wide as his jaw dropped. He opened and closed his mouth several times before he spoke, “Seriously?”

  “As a heart-attack,” I confirmed.

  “Fuck.” Yeah, that about sums it up. His eyebrows rose as he questioned, “So you decided to sample your future bride?”

  “More or less.”

  Before we finished cleaning up, he clapped me on the back. “Well, then, I s’pose congrats are in order. Set a date, yet?”

  “Nah. I need to talk to her about that.” I began to walk towards the living room. “It needs to be soon.”

  *****

  Aimee approached from the far hallway, as if our talking about her was a summons. She looked irresistible in my robe. Her rumpled hair fell over her eyes, which she tucked behind her ear. Then she realized someone else was with me and gasped, “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

  I had to fight the urge to walk over and kiss her. Instead I introduced, “Aimee, this is Ev, my youngest brother. Ev, this is Aimee.” I almost added: my fiancée.

  He gave me an arch look—yeah, he saw the resemblance—before he held out his hand to her. “Nice to meet you, Aimee.”

  As she shook hands with him, she responded, “You, as well.”

  I cleared my throat. “So, E was just asking me when the big day was.”

  “Well, I don’t know.” She cocked her head to one side. “Does it need to be soon?”

  “Probably best,” I hedged.

  E chimed in, “Will you have a church wedding?”

  Crap. I really hadn’t thought about it. However, Aimee should have whatever she wanted. I held her gaze and affirmed, “I’m good with whatever you decide.”

  She shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll see. I want Renée to be my maid of honor, so we need to wait until she heals from her injuries.”

  While I didn’t want to wait, she’d made a fair point. “No arguments, here.”

  She had the look of surprise on her face, but she covered well. “Thank you. Also, I need to contact my parents. They’ll want to be there, as well.”

  Shoot. I’d forgotten about that. Problem was, there wasn’t any guarantee Reynolds wouldn’t do something to prevent the wedding. Therefore, when I said, “We should have the wedding in your hometown,” no one was more shocked than me.

  “Really?!” A smile played on her lips.

  Well, it hadn’t been the plan, but I could see it made her happy. “Yes, really.”

  A full scale grin lit up her beautiful face. She was breathtaking. She walked over and hugged me, hard. “Thank you, Nik,” she whispered.

  E coughed. I shot him an irritated look. Then he addressed, “Congratulations, Aimee. I’m
so happy for you and my brother.”

  Asshole! I mouthed over her head. He actually had the gall to wink. I disengaged from Aimee’s embrace and went to get a bottle of water. When I returned, E was talking to her. “Do you want a big wedding, Aimee?” he inquired.

  “Not really,” she replied.

  Phew, that was good to know. I handed E some water and confirmed. “Once the details are hammered out, I’ll let y’know.”

  “Works for me,” he said before he took a long pull from his bottle. After he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he declared, “’S getting late. I better get home.” He waved on his way to the foyer.

  Aimee called, “See you soon, Ev.”

  “Yes, you will.” He gave her his megawatt smile.

  Little shit’s gonna pay for that one.

  *****

  Once he was gone, I turned to her. “Been a long day. I’m hittin’ the hay.”

  “It has,” she confirmed as she stepped in front of me. But I wouldn’t allow her to wrap her arms around me. The hurt in her eyes was something I didn’t want to see again anytime soon. Yet, there really was no way around it because I knew I couldn’t have a real marriage. As I escorted her to the guestroom, I put my hand on the small of her back. When we arrived, I held the door open for her and proclaimed, “This’ll work out, Aimee, I promise. It won’t be all bad. You’ll see.”

  She shook her head. “You’re one stubborn man, Nik. But you should know, I won’t give up,” she warned and then closed her door in my face.

  I had to wonder, just how long could I keep up the façade that I didn’t want her as much as she wanted me? I was already a helluva mess. My self-restraint wouldn’t hold forever. Then, what?

  Since sleep was out of the question, I decided work would be best. I didn’t know how long I sat and stared at my laptop screen. But it eventually registered through the cobwebs in my brain; the spreadsheets weren’t going to make sense tonight. As I poured another glass of brandy and contemplated the shit fest that had become my life, I wondered, for the millionth time, how sex wasn’t going to be part of my marriage. As if. Aimee had been right; we couldn’t live without it permanently. Again, the idea of another man near her raised my hackles. Big time. And the thought of lying with another woman made my stomach churn.

  Once again, my mind shifted gears. For a hundredth time that night, I wished Rachel could give me insight. She’d always had a way of expressing things so I saw it from every perspective. If she had lived, she would have been a great partner in my business as well as my life. Unfortunately, she had been taken far too soon for us to see our dreams manifest. Of course, at the time, being a CEO of my own company had never been on my radar. God, I miss her. Once more, I fought the water works—which generally happened when I thought of Rachel. The fact it was because of me that she was no longer here drove the knife deeper into my heart. As I rubbed the dagger tattoo on my left pectoral, I tried to ease the pain of that night from my mind. It was no use. I pulled my guitar out of the closet. While I sprawled on the couch, the tune that was so familiar drifted through the room. The haunting melody came straight from my shattered soul.

  Where do I go?

  Now, do I go?

  You took my heart and soul

  When you left me here

  All alone

  How do I go on?

  Do I go?

  You were all I ever loved

  Now you’ve left me all alone

  Where do I go now?

  How do I go on?

  I’m on my knees

  I’m begging please

  Angel, please come back to me

  Where do I go now?

  How do I go on?

  You took my heart and soul

  When you left me here

  All alone

  I’m on my knees

  I’m begging please

  I’m on my knees

  I’m begging please

  Angel, please come back to me

  Chapter Sixteen

  Aimee

  Unable to find a comfortable position, I tossed and turned. Somewhere in my dreams was a song I couldn’t place. Heartbreaking. How could so much torment be locked into something so beautiful? I cried and cried. I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around his wounded soul. Yet, in my dream state, I couldn’t locate him. The man’s voice growled in pain, which caused my soul to howl. I needed to find him—searching frantically through the penthouse, all to no avail. I awoke with a start and wiped my eyes. What was that dream—maybe nightmare was a better term—about? There was no music playing; thus, it must’ve been in my head. How strange. But that voice had been oddly familiar. What had awakened me? Before I could figure it out, I heard the soft strains of a guitar. I pulled on the robe Nik had let me borrow and padded out into the hall. Let my quest begin.

  *****

  The source of music didn’t take long to find. Somehow, Nik’s voice and the man’s in my dream were one in the same. He sat on the couch in his study and strummed a tune I recognized; “Walk Away.” Wow, his deep and raspy voice added something new to the Linkin Park song. Did he sing that particular song because he liked it? Or was it a message? Surely, he didn’t mean me. We were only just beginning. When he looked up and stopped playing, the question popped out of my mouth. “Is that how you see our future?”

  His gaze dropped. It was all I needed for a confession. I queried, “So, you plan to walk? Or you think I will?”

  He snorted, “It’s inevitable, Aimee.”

  Oh, he was willing to talk. I asked, “How so?”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “Have you Googled me?”

  No point in denying it. “Yes, I have.”

  “Learn anything?”

  “Nothing I didn’t already know,” I hedged.

  His jaw tightened. “Expound, please.”

  “You’re CEO of a multimillion dollar company, although I’m not sure exactly what you do.”

  A ghost of a smile played across his lips. Would I ever see him actually smile? “I buy out companies and/or properties that are in financial trouble.”

  I inclined my head. “Then you sell them to the highest bidder.” I shouldn’t judge him for that. Everyone had a right to make money.

  He raised a brow. “Sometimes. But mostly, I help restructure them to be profitable.”

  Well, that changed things. “Thus, you don’t only rescue damsels in distress.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a far cry from needing to be rescued.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “You’re strong.” He laid the guitar aside and patted the seat cushion next to him. I sat and pivoted towards him. He did the same, which brought us knee to knee. “Truthfully, you don’t need me.”

  How wrong you are, Nik. I did need him. “But that’s not true.”

  “Sure it is.” He shrugged one heavily muscled shoulder. “You have all the right contacts to take care of yourself.”

  Really? “If that’s the case, then why are we getting married?”

  “Because Reynolds is like a bad rash, he won’t go away with only one application of ointment.”

  I sat up straighter. “Are you saying he’ll still be an issue even once we’re married?”

  “Yup,” he confirmed.

  Holy crap! “So why marriage?”

  He ran his hand over his face and mumbled, “Hell, if I know.”

  “What’d you just say?”

  He covered up the statement as he reasoned, “If you’re my wife, it’ll be harder for him to get a hold of you.”

  I hadn’t missed his fabrication. “Don’t ever lie to me.”

  He looked perturbed. “I’m not. The fact of the matter is, you’re safer being married to me.”

  “Not about that! Before, you said ‘hell, if I know.’ ”

  “I don’t have to explain myself.” He stood and began to pace. “You need to marry me. That way, it’ll be harder for him to try anything.”

&nb
sp; “Why would he bother?” This was what I couldn’t understand. Sure, Caleb had been persistent. But if I left New York, he’d eventually give up. “It’s not like I’m the only woman on the face of the earth.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “True. But how long will that hold him at bay?”

  Now I stood, placed my hands on my hips and stated, “Doesn’t matter. He can’t cause mortal damage. His career would be over. And he wouldn’t risk that,” I pointed out.

  Nik countered, “You sure?”

  Exasperated with where the conversation was going, I shouted, “Oh, please! Did he kill your Rachel?” Huge mistake! I shouldn’t have ever mentioned his late wife. Pain, longing, anger, and several other awful emotions played across his rugged face. Gee, I’d caused that. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Therefore, I stepped in front of him and apologized, “I’m sorry.”

  He glared at me and scoffed, “To answer your question: no, that’s all on me.”

  Confusion caused my brows to lower, as I queried, “Come again?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead he walked away from me, and didn’t stop until he faced the window behind his desk. “Rachel is not up for discussion. Ever,” he growled.

  Shoot. Now he was pissed off. “Okay,” I reassured and then added, “For now.”

  “Go to bed, Aimee,” he ordered.

  Whoa, talk about whiplash. The man could change subjects faster than his sports car could reach sixty MPH. “Maybe I don’t want to,” I countered.

  He calmly set his glass down on the desk and strode out of the room. Oh, hell, no. I followed him out. “Don’t walk away from me, Nik.”

  He spun and gripped me by the shoulders. “It’s settled,” he demanded. “We’re getting married. I don’t have to like it, and neither do you. But it’s happening. Now, leave me. The. Fuck. Alone.”

  With that he stormed away. And I was left standing there to ponder: What in heaven’s name was I going to do about the situation at hand? Then it hit me, I’d handle this. After all, it was my mess. Nik seemed to think I was strong. Time to find out just how tough I really was. One thing was for certain, I wouldn’t marry a man that couldn’t love me. Therefore, I needed to clear the air with Caleb and move on.