The squeak she uttered around his tongue did not go unnoticed. Without stopping the worshipping of her mouth, Brooks slid one hand down the side of her body, over her rear end, and down the back of her thigh. He then drew her knee up, up and up and held it at hip level, tilting her pelvis forward. His other hand clasped the back of her head in a firm hold as he spread his legs wider, making himself shorter. Then he bent his knees and rocked his long…hard…erection…slowly against Lolly’s most engorged nerve endings.
She tried to pull her head back but Brooks had control, so she moaned through his kisses and he responded by doing it again. And then again. And then again.
Until she exploded.
Shaking, quivering, and strung out by her undoing, Lolly’s hands fell from Brooks’ shoulders to her sides. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move. She could only feel as she collapsed against his truck. She felt him release her mouth with one final kiss. Felt her forehead fall to his chest and her breath hitch as she felt each of the aftershocks that kept on coming and coming. She could feel Brooks’ hand rubbing up and down the back of her thigh, still held high, soothing her, bringing her back down to earth.
When she was finally able to draw in a long breath, Brooks wrapped both his arms behind her back and gently pulled her around in front of him so that his back was now supported by the truck, and she was embraced in his arms, leaning heavily against him. He tugged her hair a little to get her to lift her face and then he kissed her sweetly, saying her name with awe and reverence.
“Laura Leigh DuVal,” he quietly breathed the words. “I am under your spell.”
Still undone from much-too-much, she could form no coherent words, which apparently humored Brooks enough to shine his megawatt grin and add an extra twinkle to his blue eyes. Taking her by the hand, he led her up the porch steps to her momma’s screen door and opened it. He whispered into the back of her head, “I’ll see you tonight,” and prodded her to step over the threshold into the foyer before closing the door gently behind her.
Lolly stood alone in the dark, her lips charred, her brain numb, her limbs so spent and heavy she felt like her body was dripping to the floor. An inkling of a thought flashed on the outskirts of her mind.
That was far from safe and nowhere close to boring.
And then that too dripped to the floor.
***
Brooks sat in his truck with one hand gripping the steering wheel. His eyes were trained on Lolly’s back. She was still standing just inside the screen door where he’d left her, her arms hanging loose by her sides. His male pride took immense satisfaction in that. So much so that he couldn’t bring himself to drive away. His other hand came up to rub back and forth over his lips. He was already craving her mouth again. Her opening up for him. Responding.
God was that good. His eyes closed as the memory swamped him. That moment where her mouth opened under his. That first touch of her tongue. Man, it had lit a fire in his chest, and he all but consumed her trying to put it out. And she had responded. Oh boy had she—grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in. His hands twitched remembering every long, trim muscle of her body under soft, supple skin. Her arms, her torso, her thigh. Holy fuck. Her thigh.
His eyes shot open. He’d made her come. Right here on the driveway in record time. He hadn’t even touched her. She just let herself go, allowing him to take her over the edge. It was crazy. And Christ Almighty, there was something about swallowing her moans that had him feeling powerful and in control. Jesus! He was tempted to climb out of his truck, drag her back out to the porch, and do it all over again.
He could not remember being so turned on. Not that he’d kissed a lot of women lately, but man, this one. This one had flipped a switch.
The fact that she still hadn’t moved made him grin. She had been so limp in his arms at the end, all warm and soft and docile. And as he was remembering that final kiss against her tender and pliant lips, the nagging cop in him reared up and threatened to ruin the moment.
The nagging cop had seen too much, and for a split second he imagined Lolly in that same state of pliancy but in far less chivalrous hands. She would have had zero defenses against a date who might press her to reciprocate.
Imagining Lolly being taken advantage of by some idiot yahoo sent a wave of fear rippling through his gut. Brooks shut those thoughts down hard and pushed the cop in him aside. The bachelor in him wanted to enjoy the end of this night. The end of a very satisfying first date with Lolly DuVal.
Lolly, his sister’s close personal friend.
Goddammit, if that didn’t have him sparking the ignition and backing out of the drive. All the way home, he stewed over this unfathomable breech of his privacy. Lewis, his best buddy, and Lolly, his amazing date, were both intimately connected with his sister, who he sure as hell didn’t want to know fuck about his life.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Darcy. She was fine as sisters went. But his life was already too much of an open book. Not only did he grow up in this relatively small town, but he had been the lead sports story in the paper throughout high school and college. Everybody, young and old, knew his face and his name. He couldn’t get away with one damn thing if he tried.
And now he held a public job in the same damn town, so his private life continued to be anything but. But he loved Henderson and the people who lived here, so he managed.
Then four months ago, bam! Without warning, his little sister waltzes into his very small, private, and closely guarded circle of confidants, and so now…well…why the hell not just invite Mom, Dad, and Annabelle's scary old Aunt Helen in as well?
Fucking A. Now he wasn’t even able to enjoy his hard-on.
And he couldn’t go home and seek solace at his own place because he’d stupidly loaned his newly remodeled house to a half-dozen of Lewis’ out-of-town guests. Lewis. Fucking dick. Brooks stalked up his parents’ front walk and had to check himself before slamming their front door behind him. He toed off his loafers and carried them in his hand up the steps and down the hall just in time to see Lewis sneaking out of his sister’s room.
And the nightmare just kept on growing.
Drawing a breath through gritted teeth, Brooks dropped his loafers and rose up to his full height before stalking forward, grabbing his best friend by the throat, and slamming him up against the wall. He leaned in and allowed the earlier fear he had for Lolly to surface and explode.
“She’s. My. Sister!” he snarled. “I do not need to see this kind of bullshit. Ever. Especially under my father’s roof.”
He released Lewis, who immediately leaned over, putting his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Brooks marched past him down to his old room at the end of the hall and slammed the door as hard as he could.
Chapter Four
Vance Evans rarely put time and energy into convincing anyone to do anything.
Most of the time it didn’t matter to him what anyone else was doing. He focused on what he wanted and went out and did that. He found people who wanted to cooperate with him and left the others behind.
When making money first appealed to Vance, he started a lemonade stand by himself in the new development being built behind his father’s property. Construction workers, stuck on a job site got hot and thirsty, and even at the age of ten Vance saw a need that he could fill and profit from. Later, he washed cars, delivered papers, walked dogs, and mowed lawns.
When he was tired of doing one thing, he did something else. When that grew old, he looked for another adventure. And because he was always moving to the next bigger and better job, team, idea, or plan, he didn’t have time to spend much of the money he had acquired over the past two decades. He enjoyed the making of money. Spending it was incidental. So when his buddy Lewis needed some seed money to start his business, Vance had been ready and willing. And having made that fortuitous investment, now at twenty-nine years old, Vance Evans was a very wealthy self-made, self-reliant man.
Usually.
But today, an
d not for the first time, he found waking up next to a woman and not remembering her name reprehensible.
Reprehensible? I think that might be a little dramatic, he scoffed at himself.
Well, it’s not like she’s some pink-cheeked, dewy-eyed blonde you want to try to make this up to, he thought. He almost laughed at that. No, he didn’t want anything to do with this crazy-ass bitch from New York. The one who’d spent the entire party last night touching him inappropriately and dropping hints about how she wanted to teach her cheating boyfriend a lesson.
And he certainly hadn’t planned on obliging her. No, he truly hadn’t. Even as he watched Brooks dance with his little Lollypop for over an hour, he had no intention of taking Slutty Slutzky home.
And though he kept having to drag his gaze away from Brooks and Lolly holding hands like squirrelly seventh graders, he still wasn’t going to give in to Ms. New York’s over-obvious come-ons.
But, as the evening stretched out into an endless sprawl, that painfully familiar feeling of utter loneliness engulfed him even as he sat in the circle of his closest friends. The moment Brooks pulled Lolly onto his lap and Vance had to watch her beam up at him like he was her sun, stars, and goddamn moon, he snapped.
“Clearly,” he stated, staring out over his cereal bowl, “I have a problem.” And the only two options he could see were to request the help of a woman he actually did want to go to bed with or admit he was a sex addict and seek professional treatment.
And the latter was so not going to happen.
He stared at his phone after hearing Brooks’ message vehemently stating, “We are not doing this. End of discussion.”
Oh, but they were doing this. They had to do this. So Vance prepared himself for a long, long discussion.
***
Brooks sat at his desk at the police station, holding his cell phone away from his ear and grimacing as his sister ripped him a new one.
He deserved it. He knew he did. Which is why he’d snuck out of his parents’ home without speaking to anyone, missing the family brunch before sending the lovebirds back to New York. Good riddance.
“Yeah,” he interjected. “You’re right…my fault…of course…I’m sorry,” were all the words he managed to get in before she hung up.
Man, for someone who was always on top of his game, right now he was way out in left field. This shit was not him. He was struggling with Vance, himself, Darcy, and Lewis, and the reason behind all of it was wrapped up in one set of long, toned legs.
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Lolly DuVal had always been too damn young. Too damn young and yet very, very perceptive. She’d read him better than anyone else that night eleven years ago when he won the State Championship—and that had made all the difference. She was just a kid back then, so he stood by and watched her grow up. But now it was becoming just plain obvious that Lolly DuVal had been chipping away at his heart for a very long time.
And where Lolly was concerned, he was afraid of everything—especially of himself. Up until now he’d been able to handle it. Whenever the thought of doing something about it would surface over the years, he’d been able to let it go. He’d dated plenty and fallen in love twice. But when he saw her name on the guest list for Darcy’s engagement party, a spark went off, and he figured it was now or never. The two of them were all grown up and timing was everything, right?
And their first date? Aside from a few false starts, it hit high on his top ten list. Right up until the time he was choking his best friend in the middle of the night. Now he had to call Lewis tomorrow and apologize. Right. Like that was going to happen.
Grabbing one of the six Krispy Kreme Doughnuts on his desk and the ancient Jake DuVal file he’d searched for all morning, he gave each his full attention in turn. Yeah, anything to alter the trail of his thoughts, because he just might have to admit that he was beating up Lewis for doing exactly what he longed to do to Lolly, and he was definitely not going there.
Within minutes, the next major issue to be faced landed on his desk. Vance plopped himself right where he always did whenever he came into the station. When you weren’t much of a cop, they didn’t give you much of a desk. So Vance parked himself on top of the blotter on Brooks’ desk, swinging his legs back and forth while Brooks leaned his chair back on two legs, reading over the file.
“Put down the doughnut,” Brooks growled, face still in the paperwork, before letting the front legs of his chair fall to the floor.
“You can’t eat all six freaking doughnuts,” Vance protested, returning the one he’d picked up.
“Three hundred push-ups every day says I can.”
“Push-ups are bullshit.”
“Running is bullshit. Push-ups are the perfect exercise,” Brooks said as he rose. “Weight training and cardio all rolled into one. Real men do push-ups. Pansy-ass spandex-loving freaks run.”
“Says the fastest sprinter in Henderson.”
“And don’t you forget it!”
“Sprinting is running.”
“Sprinting is running with purpose. To win a race, to beat the throw at the plate, or to catch a perp. Running five miles is a waste of a lot of valuable time.”
“It’s good mental therapy.”
Brooks looked pointedly at the doughnuts. “You’ve got your therapy, I’ve got mine.” He turned and headed to the copy room.
“How was last night?”
Brooks glanced back, smiling casually. “It was good. My night was good, thanks.” He kept walking.
Vance leapt off the desk and followed Brooks. “So, you and the Lollypop?”
“You got my message, right?” Brooks asked, letting his voice trail behind him.
Vance followed, stopping at the threshold of the copy room. Rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, he said, “Look. We need to do this Brooks.”
“We don’t need to do it with her.”
“Well, who else are we going to get?”
Brooks took the paperwork from the file and tapped it all together. “We don’t need anyone. It’s a stupid idea. We do fine as we are.”
“Bullshit! You bore women to death and I have nothing to offer outside the bedroom. This is not getting us where we want to go.”
“Sorry.” He shook his head, pushing the copy button and standing back to watch it run. “We aren’t doing this.”
“Why?”
Brooks slammed his fist on the top of the copier and turned to glare at his friend.
“You like her,” Vance coaxed. “Admit it. You like Lolly and want to keep her all to yourself.”
“Of course I like her,” he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. “What’s not to like? But…she’s young and inexperienced and fresh and happy, and I shouldn’t be messing with all that. And you,” he said as he moved forward, poking Vance in the chest, “you definitely shouldn’t be messing with that.”
Vance knocked his hand away. “Why the hell not? She’s the same age as Darcy for crying out loud.”
Brooks flinched.
“She’s probably had a dozen boyfriends,” Vance went on before lowering his voice and getting serious. “Trust me, from the way Lolly talked about her last one, that woman knows what she wants and she’s probably willing to tell us.”
“Well, I’m not willing to ask her.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because it would change everything, that’s why.”
“Not necessarily—”
“Of course it will. I’ll look like a fucking moron.”
“Fine. I’ll talk to her. Let me at least get some advice from a pretty girl so I never again end up with a crazy Yankee bitch in my bed.”
“You did not!”
“I wish I didn’t.” Vance hung his head in shame. “Come on, man, I need serious help here. And honestly, what are the chances of you and Lolly actually working out anyway?”
Brooks' eyes widened, completely insulted. “Well, I don’t know, but after I got my head
out of my ass things seemed to go okay. Better than okay, actually.” He picked up his copies, stalked past Vance and headed back to his desk.
Vance followed, relentless. “Did you do the move?”
“What move?”
“The bad cop move.”
“What bad cop move?”
“Because we had an agreement, and if you did the move and it worked for you, you owe me.”
Brooks slammed both hands on his desk. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know. The move!” Vance stepped forward and got up in his face. “Did you throw her up against the wall and kiss her like you meant it?”
Lines formed across Brooks’ forehead. He’d completely forgotten about the move. “Of course I didn’t—”
“She went for it, didn’t she? I told you she would. Lolly doesn’t want safe, and she doesn’t want boring.”
“I didn’t do the move,” Brooks shouted. “I drove her home and helped her out of the truck and then I….” His voice trailed off as he remembered exactly what he did. It might not have been a wall, but he sure as hell had her flattened against his truck. “Fucking A.”
Vance’s lips twitched, trying to hide his smile. “And how’d that work out for you?”
Brooks paced while running a hand over his head, remembering. Remembering how quickly Lolly had responded to him. How willing she was to have his hands all over her. How fast it all escalated. How hot it all got. So hot she was able to climax in the middle of the fucking street. Was that the power of the move?
“I already know how it worked out because it’s the only damn thing I do right where women are concerned. You sprung bad cop on Lolly, got her all hot and bothered, and then walked away leaving her panting for more.”
Brooks stopped his pacing. He kept his eyes on the floor, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and reminded himself to breathe.
“Or not.” Vance beamed like he had just won a prize. “Bad cop gets them every time. You so owe me.”
“We are not doing this!”
Summer on Main Street Page 13