Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

“Do not move, no matter what I do. Understand? I need to get you ready, love.”

  I nod, expecting more kisses and maybe some nipple action. He smiles again and directs me to close my eyes, waiting till I obey before making his move.

  What he does shocks and thrills me at once, and I bow up, pushing closer when his heated mouth settles directly over my sex and starts licking and sucking.

  He works me over till I’m writhing and pulling at his hair, so lost and desperate that I’m begging, pleading with him to do something, anything to help me.

  And still he keeps going, not stopping till I’ve peaked twice more before lunging up my body and kissing me fiercely.

  I’m so lost I hardly notice when he lines his steely length with my opening and starts pressing in. The pleasure of it is utterly entrancing and sweet, till he meets the barrier signaling my innocence high inside.

  I tense with the twinge of pain, locking up and scooting back to escape the pressure.

  “Shh, love, relax. It’ll be over soon,” he whispers, stealing my mouth with a deep, drugging kiss.

  When I relax and melt into the moment he makes his move, thrusting hard and filling me in one stroke. I cry out, but he doesn’t stop, withdrawing and thrusting back in till I feel the pain recede beneath a rip tide of renewed pleasure.

  Soon I’m pushing back, seeking that ultimate pleasure as much as he is, using my instinct to move with him.

  “Oh, love, that feels…”

  He swivels his hips, hitting me right where I need him to and sending me crashing into climax, my body going wild beneath his. With a grunt and three more desperate thrusts he joins me, filling me with heat and a sense of euphoria unlike any I’ve ever known.

  “Oh God, oh God, oh God!”

  “That’s it, love, come for me!” he yells, pumping into me to prolong my flight.

  It’s only as I’m coming down from that incredible high, sprawled boneless over his heaving chest, that I feel the fear I’ve been keeping at bay since he’d kissed me so possessively this morning.

  I couldn’t say why that kiss had dogged me all day, not being as innocent and naïve as I was, but I know the reason now, and it scares the bejesus outta me.

  It’s quite possible that I could fall for him again. In fact, I don’t doubt that it’s more than likely.

  I just don’t know how to stop it.

  Chapter Ten

  “Why so quiet, love?”

  It’s early morning, around maybe three, I’d guess, and I’m spent and befuddled from hours of nonstop loving. Lucian is…a sexual fiend, is the only apt description.

  After our initial round of bliss he’d lowered me into a steaming bath filled with salts and washed me tenderly, paying particular care to my sore thighs and between.

  He’d soothed my ragged nerves and cared for me so gently I’d been hard pressed not to blurt out my emotional turmoil or run screaming for dear life.

  Love, the whole concept of needing another person…that badly scares me. I know what it is to love and lose. I’ve felt it too many times not to. Too many times to ‘go gently into that dark night’.

  Now, as we lie wrapped around each other, just enjoying the cool breeze coming through the open windows, I feel vulnerable and a little pissed that he can get to me so easily.

  I want to be detached and aloof. No, apart from whatever it is he’s trying to do, but dammit, my stupid feelings have always been so easily roused. I’m scared, annoyed, and uncertain.

  If Mom were alive she would tell me to be honest and ‘use my words’, thanks to her obsession with Dr Phil, so instead of feigning sleep or diverting his nosiness I push myself up and meet his eyes, staring the dragon head on.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Lucian Jasper, but if you make me fall in love with you and break my heart, I think I might risk prison just for the pleasure of murdering your hot ass.”

  There, tough and honest all at once.

  Dr Phil would probably tell me to use my words more constructively or some such shit, but I’m no wall flower, and I refuse to beat around the bush.

  I grew up in Chicago public school; I can’t hold my tongue for shit, so the good doctors of head scoping can kiss it!

  I feel him jerk beneath me before a huge grin splits his face. Arrogant ass.

  “Are you saying you love me, my sweet?” he purrs in that sexy accent, pulling me further up his chest to get my face into his.

  “No,” I mutter, scowling at his smug face. “What I’m saying is that if you keep up with your sweetness and this whole sex machine thing you’ve got going, especially if you keep being so nice to my brother, there’s a good chance I could be dumb enough to fall for you. So don’t do it if you’re intending to hurt me.”

  His chest shakes the whole time he’s kissing my smart mouth—his words, not mine—and I finally relent and soften, kissing him back with a sweetness I can’t hold back.

  This melding is softer than the wild passion before, his wordless promise to take care with my feelings and mine to tell him that I’m a soft ass sap with less brains than a grapefruit.

  Stupid sex. Mom was right; it does turn your mind to oatmeal.

  ***

  Luc

  I lay awake till dawn, my lovely little baby sound asleep where she’s sprawled on my chest, leaving a wet pool of drool where her mouth hangs open over my left nipple.

  I find I don’t mind, not in the least when she shifts, rubbing her bountiful breasts over my ribs, and wiggles her sex against my hip.

  What she’d said has given me hope that my plans for total ownership over her will work beyond my wildest imaginings. If that were all, though, I would even now be sleeping, because yes, after that sex marathon I am beyond exhausted.

  The problem is, though, that I’m feeling…I can’t say what this emotion is, but its bloody well got me unsettled and tied up in knots. I want Ashley to love me, have been working my plans in that direction since the day I decided to find her again.

  So then why does the thought of what I have planned leave me feeling so filled with dread? I know myself; once I’ve plotted a course and set things into action, I will stay it till the very end.

  For the first time since I ruined my father and his bitch wife I feel the need to stop and reassess things, something I haven’t done since—

  No, I won’t think of that dreadful day, lest I lose the quiet joy I feel now that I’ve got her securely trapped and in my bed. Doubt still niggles at my mind, though. What if she leaves me when—

  “Luc?”

  I tense and look down into her sleepy eyes and realize she’s woken from the involuntary tensing of my arms. I’m squeezing the poor girl to death.

  “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

  She smiles and then reddens when she notices the wet patch on my chest, wiping apologetically at my skin. The graze of her fingers over my nipple perks us both up, and I roll her to her back with a laugh, fitting our bottom halves together with a smirk.

  “You still tired?”

  I don’t give her a chance to answer but seal our mouths and push deep, feeling her heat wrap around me. The connection calms me immediately, chasing the shadows away and leaving me feeling like I’ve gained a lot more than I’ve bargained for.

  “Oh, that feels so good,” she whispers, canting her hips to pull me closer and deeper into her warmth. “How can it feel so good?”

  “It’s meant to be.”

  I say it for effect, because I know that women eat that bollocks up for breakfast and that it will bring her so much closer to that point of no return.

  I just hope the love I have every intention of nurturing in her will be enough to save me if she ever discovers my true intentions.

  Chapter Eleven

  Being without friends sucks ass. I’d never given much thought to my lone wolf status before, thanks to my hectic life and the fact that I had no time to nurture a friendship with another woman—or anybody, for that mat
ter.

  Now I hate it because I have no one to talk to about what’s happening between me and Lucian. I need a freaking sounding board, a vagina monologue confidante to tell me what the heck is happening to my previously reasonable mind.

  As it is I’ve been skipping around and singing—singing, for God’s sake—since we made love. It’s been over a week, and I still feel like I’m walking on marshmallows or something.

  Just tragic.

  “I need your help with homework, Ash,” Ben whines from the kitchen table, bringing me back from my misery.

  I stir the homemade spaghetti sauce before going over to him and looking down at his reading card.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Mrs Baxter said I have to read this book, but the words are too hard.”

  “Difficult,” Lucian corrects, breezing into the kitchen and planting a kiss on my lips before turning back to ‘his son’, as he now calls Ben.

  I go back to the stove and check the pasta as they put their heads together and get to it. It makes me all tingly knowing that he takes such an interest in Ben.

  Since we’d gotten into a rhythm with each other I’d started cooking dinner and taken over weekends, much to Maria’s chagrin, and I love knowing that Lucian likes my efforts as far as the home and hearth thing goes.

  Everything’s still up in the air as far as our relationship is concerned, but for once I’m not going all psycho control freak and demanding answers. I‘m just enjoying this time of happiness and freedom.

  “We’re just about done, love. You can start serving,” Lucian calls ten minutes later, sending Ben to put his books away.

  As soon as he’s gone I find myself enfolded from behind as his wicked mouth glosses wet kisses over my neck before stopping at my ear.

  “I want you.”

  Just like that I heat up and melt into him, wanting nothing more than the chance to take him upstairs and do all the things I read in that steamy romance novel Maria gave me.

  “Hey, Luc, can I swim after dinner?” Ben yells, breaking us apart as he comes bounding back into the room. “Ash wouldn’t let me ‘cause I had so much homework to do,” he gripes petulantly, making me feel terrible for denying him.

  “Tone,” Lucian warns, levelling a hard stare his way.

  It always amazes me how he can get Ben into line so easily, whereas I can’t say one thing right without the kid throwing a sulk. A few weeks ago I would have been subjected to God alone knows what sulky punishment if I chastised him.

  Not Lucian though. Nope, all it takes is one word or stern look and Ben snaps back into line like a little soldier.

  “Sorry, Ash.”

  “Good, now sit down for dinner, and then we’ll see about swimming later.”

  He lauds my cooking all through dinner, and I practically glow with the praise, feeling like a million bucks when Ben perks up and seconds the approval.

  “I’ll clean up while you guys swim.”

  “No. Leave it for Maria. I want you with us.”

  “Uh…”

  My words stall and I grimace, closing my eyes tightly as he takes the dishes from my nerveless fingers and pulls me along behind him, up the stairs and into our bedroom.

  “I purchased a wide selection of swimwear for you. It’s in the bottom left drawer of your closet.”

  I nod dumbly and go to change, selecting a modest black tank style bikini with boy short bottoms. My uneasiness and embarrassment multiply when we go downstairs and make our way outside, watching as Ben flings himself into the air and crashes into the pool with a shriek of joy.

  Lucian follows suit, splashing water all over the place and horsing around like a kid before he looks back and sees me tentatively dipping a toe into the water.

  “Come on, love, the water’s perfect.”

  I don’t doubt that, seeing as the pool is one of those expensive heated things. That’s not the problem. The big issue is the fact that I can’t swim and have been terrified of drowning since the water I’d fallen through— thin ice—at the cabin we used to go to for short vacations.

  My mom and Wesley had saved me from an untimely watery death and then assured me that water is not the big evil monster I thought it was. It hadn’t worked, though, so I’d refused to even try learning, no matter how much they’d bribed me.

  “Uh, I think I’ll just sit here on the edge.”

  “What? No, don’t be foolish, love.”

  “Aw leave her alone. She’s too chicken on account of she can’t swim.”

  “What?”

  “Okay, no need to look at me like I’ve just landed all the way from Mars,” I gripe, throwing Ben a withering glare. “Thanks a lot, hotshot. You couldn’t keep that to yourself?”

  “Naw. I told ya, ya need to try,” he says, throwing himself back and into the deep end.

  I’m almost brittle, I’m so tense. Just having my feet submerged—baths are not my thing unless I’m sick or freezing, and then even then, I won’t do it without a buddy.

  “Seriously? You can’t swim?” he asks, stroking over to where I’m sitting.

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “I almost drowned when I was like, seven, so when Wesley finally got around to wanting to teach me I was not in the mood for bullshit,” I huff, flicking at a non-existent mosquito.

  This is seriously embarrassing and not what I had planned for tonight. Oh, why did Ben have to go on about this crap on the night I wanted to test those things from that book?

  Just my luck.

  “Makes sense, love, but you have nothing to fear, not when you’re with me. Now come on over here and let me teach you.”

  “Um. No.”

  He rolls his eyes at my silence and grabs hold of my arm, yanking me in and onto his chest before I can scramble loose and run away. I freeze when the water hits my body and envelops me from the chest down, its silky coolness flowing over my skin in a caress.

  Of course I do what all hysterical idiots do and jump my ass all over him, clinging like a vine as cold, stark terror takes me over.

  “Shh, love, I have you. See? I won’t let anything happen to you. Just relax and let the water surround you,” he soothes, kissing my brow and cheeks till my breathing calms long enough for me to open my scrunched eyes.

  I know, closing my eyes in this type of situation is silly, but if I’m gonna die I don’t want to look that crap in the face.

  “I’m going to let you go—”

  “No!”

  If possible I cling harder, almost drowning us both in my bid to climb him like a monkey.

  “I’ll have hold of you the whole time. Just lie back. I’ll keep my arms under you the whole time. See? That’s not so bad, is it? Now spread your arms and let your muscles unwind. I have you, love. That’s a good girl.”

  As I lie back in the water, his arms supporting me, and let the cool liquid drift around me, I close my eyes and huff out a breath of annoyance.

  The dratted man, he went and did it.

  I’m in love.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I am so pleased with the improvement Benjamin has made in only a few short weeks, Miss Munro. He’s almost a completely changed child from the boy who walked into my office that first day.”

  I nod my head and beam at Dr Glen, sucking up the praise she’s been heaping on me since I walked through the door twenty minutes ago. As per our talk, she doesn’t share anything too personal with me. She is Ben’s shrink, after all, and respects his privacy, but she’s been keeping us updated about his progress and shares some of the things my brother has given her permission to tell us.

  “Yes he has, Doc. His teachers are really pleased with his progress, and there haven’t been any incidents at the new school. I’m just relieved he hasn’t hit anyone so far.”

  Her soft brown eyes smile kindly at me before she sits up straighter and gives me the stare I’ve come to know since this all began, the one that says I’m in for another counselling sessio
n whether I like to or not.

  Which I hadn’t, in the beginning. I’d pointed out that she was Ben’s shrink, not mine, and that I wasn’t into sharing my gross feelings with perfect strangers.

  She’d gone all stubborn on me and forged ahead anyway, dragging the shit out of me no matter how hard I tried to deflect. Now I have the gal pal I’d been searching for, and the weirdest part of it is that she’s not so much about giving me advice as she is about making me see what I need to about my emotionally stunted self.

  “We need to speak about one of the central issues regarding Benjamin’s behavior toward you.”

  Gulp.

  “He hates me.”

  “No, Ashley dear, he really doesn’t. The fact is, he loves you as the mother he lost, more even, since he’s intelligent enough to recognize the love and sacrifices you’ve made for him. The issue is not you; it’s your continued defense of his father.”

  Huh?

  “What?”

  “Simply put, he feels as if you’re betraying him every time you defend your father and his actions. Telling the boy that Wesley isn’t bad just because he left enforces his belief that you value him more than Ben.”

  “But I only say that so that he doesn’t end up hating him. I don’t want him to hate Wesley, or anyone,” I croak.

  Shit. Lucian had told me this weeks ago, and instead of listening I’d told him to mind his own business unless he had some fancy Psychology degree I didn’t know about.

  Now I’m going to have to apologize and eat freaking crow because it seems the man is once again right.

  Drat.

  “I know, and under normal circumstances I would laud that sentiment. Hatred should not be encouraged, but in Benjamin’s case it’s having a negative effect.”

  “What should I do?”

  “Don’t encourage him to badmouth Wesley; just do not rush to his defense when Benjamin says something negative. Right now he needs to feel like you’re in his corner. When he feels secure enough he will open up to you, and then you can explain your feelings to him.”

  Seems easy enough, except for the fact that I’m terrified that opening up, letting anybody know my real feelings about the douchebag, will only make them think I’m a loon.