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The Right Tool (Bryant Brothers Book 3)

Page 6

by Tami Lund


  He worked her into a frenzy, her ass rubbing against his cock until he was on the edge himself, and then he pulled away to wrap himself with the condom.

  Chasing kisses over her shoulder and up her neck to suck her lobe into his mouth, he fisted his cock and positioned it at her entrance, swallowing her gasp as he kissed her lips at the same time.

  Knock, knock.

  He froze in the process of bending his knees and pulling out so that he could press into her again.

  Madison gasped and reached back to squeeze his ass, to hold him still, he presumed, although all the action did was make him want to buck against her. He gritted his teeth and focused on breathing. And not moving.

  Knock, knock. “Maddy, you in there?”

  “Shit. That’s Camila,” Madison whispered. She shifted her stance and Kyle closed his eyes, giving up trying to resist, and pumped into her once, twice.

  She gasped again and rocked against him. But then she whispered, “I didn’t lock the door.”

  “Maddy?” Camila called out again.

  Kyle cleared his throat. “Nope, it’s Kyle!”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  After a couple seconds of no sound, he thrust another few times. Madison slapped her hand against the wall and pushed up onto her tiptoes, adjusting the angle, and he could feel his balls tightening against his body. He reached around to rub his thumb against her clit.

  Knock, knock.

  They froze again.

  “Sorry to bother you, but do you happen to know where Maddy is? I can’t find her and her phone is sitting here on the dresser.”

  “I…”

  Madison moved and even more blood drained from his brain.

  “Walk,” she whispered, her voice tinged with desperation. “Tell her I went for a walk.”

  “Walk,” Kyle practically shouted. “I think she went for a walk!”

  “Okay, thanks.” A few moments later, he heard the telltale sound of a door closing, which meant Camila actually left the room this time.

  He pulled out and flipped Madison around to face him. “Jesus, that was close.” He wrapped his hands around her thighs, lifting her, with her back pressed to the wall, and slammed into her again.

  She grabbed his face, peppering him with kisses while she writhed in his arms.

  “I’m going to come,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Me too.” She arched and her inner muscles squeezed him, sending him careening over the edge until he was drowning in pleasure.

  After long moments, she moved, just a fraction, but it was enough to pull him out of the clouds. He slowly lowered her to her feet, conscious of how loudly his heart was hammering in his chest. When he looked at her, her eyes were half closed and there was a crooked smile on her lips.

  “Damn,” she murmured. “That was intense.”

  He nodded, grabbed the shampoo, and washed his hair. “Here I thought we’d be safe in the shower.”

  “Me too.” She laughed and impulsively kissed him. “Don’t forget our two-orgasm rule. That means we have to figure out how to do it again before this day is over.”

  “We probably bought ourselves a little time by telling her you’d gone for a walk.”

  She arched her brows. He grinned while he rinsed the soap out of his hair and then lowered himself to his knees in front of her.

  “I’m not sure I can handle…” He lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder and then cupped her ass. She cleared her throat, and then he buried his face between her thighs.

  “Oh,” she gurgled. “Maybe I can handle more after all.”

  Chapter Seven

  Okay, it was official. Madison wanted to start every day having sex in the shower with Kyle. Yes, an unrealistic dream, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

  Because, damn, that shower had been even better than the first one they’d taken together. Too bad they hadn’t thought to move their relationship to a friends-with-benefits level sooner. If they were home, it wouldn’t be nearly as hard to hook up whenever the urge hit them. She could pop on over to his place every day before work.

  She wouldn’t need coffee to start her day if she made that part of her morning routine.

  Alas, that particular fantasy would have to wait. In the meantime, they had a wedding to get through, and a week of living under the same roof with far too many other people, none of whom she intended to tell about their shared shower time activities.

  There was a knock on the closed bathroom door, and she fumbled with the last couple of buttons on her dress as she hurried over to let Kyle into her bedroom.

  His hair was still damp from their shower, and his normally closely trimmed beard was starting to look a little messy. Not ZZ Top by any means—more like Charlie Hunnam during his Sons of Anarchy days, except with dark hair.

  Oh hell, she was getting overheated again.

  He wore a pale blue T-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts with leather flip-flops. It didn’t help that his impossibly blue eyes lit up when they skimmed over her body, like he appreciated what he saw. She sucked in her gut and touched her hair and swiped her tongue across her suddenly parched lips.

  “You look really pretty,” he said.

  She cleared her throat. “Thanks. So do you.” And then she laughed nervously. “Sorry,” she finally mumbled.

  He chuckled. “I’m going to assume you meant handsome.”

  “That’s exactly what I meant.” Gorgeous, attractive, sexy as hell—those all worked too. Fuckable, that was a good one. “How come I get so awkward after we… you know?”

  “Have sex? I don’t know, why do you?”

  She shook her. “How come you don’t?”

  “Well, sex generally makes me feel pretty great. And sex with you has been approximately a thousand times better than anything I’ve ever experienced before. So I figure I need to try really hard not to give you reason to not want to do it anymore.”

  She patted his chest. “Don’t worry. I don’t foresee that happening anytime soon.” Not at all, in fact.

  Which should probably worry her, but she refused to let it. She was supposed to be letting loose, right? Sneaking around and having insanely spectacular sex with a super-hot guy who was also an amazing friend was the polar opposite of how she would normally act.

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “I still owe you one more orgasm before the end of the day, after all.”

  He laughed and reached for the bedroom door. “Should we go get some breakfast? I don’t know about you, but I worked up a hell of an appetite.”

  “I suppose. I have to face them sooner or later.”

  “It’ll be fine,” he assured her as he opened the door, holding it for her to pass through first.

  Grandma Bryant stepped out of the room across the hall at the same time. Her eyebrows shot up when she saw them. “Good morning, you two. I see you took advantage of the best hangover remedy known to man.”

  Madison glanced over her shoulder at Kyle, but he shrugged like he had no idea what she was talking about.

  “I’m referring to sex, of course,” Grandma Bryant announced. She narrowed her eyes and studied first Kyle then Madison. “Yep, definitely glowing.”

  Madison shook her head so vehemently her hair whipped her in the face. “No, no, that’s not what happened. We didn’t, um, no, we didn’t have sex this morning.”

  Grandma Bryant cocked her head. “Don’t you mean last night?”

  Madison bobbed her head. “Yes. That’s what I meant.”

  “So you literally just slept together?”

  “No!” Madison practically shouted. Another door opened, and Elliot stepped out into the hall.

  Of course. She had to resist the impulse to slap her palm against her forehead at the terrible inconvenience of this entire scenario.

  “What’s going on?” Elliot asked, walking their way instead of down the hall toward the stairs.

  “I thought maybe your brother and Madison finally hooked up, b
ut they’re claiming they didn’t,” Grandma said, waving in their general direction.

  Finally?

  “They better not,” Elliot said hotly, his glare directed at Kyle, who pursed his lips and folded his arms and glared right back like they were in some sort of standoff.

  “Stop,” Madison said, putting a hand on each chest. “Just stop. Nothing happened,” she lied. “We slept. In separate beds.” Well, that much was true. “Now, can we please go downstairs? I’m starving.”

  “Too bad,” Grandma Bryant muttered, and she headed down the hall first. Elliot continued to glare at Kyle for long seconds until he finally turned to follow her.

  “Come sit with me,” Grandma Bryant said when they entered the kitchen, which was a flurry of activity. She looped her arm through Madison’s and led her to a screened in porch that contained a long table that might very well be big enough to seat their entire party at once.

  Her dad sat at the bistro table in the breakfast nook, a cup of coffee at his elbow and his tablet propped in front of him. Probably reading the local paper, as was his routine. She had to give him props for doing it out here among the hustle and bustle instead of hiding in his room.

  Most of the rest of the houseguests were out on the porch, several of them setting the table, while the others were seated, coffee mugs or champagne flutes filled with mimosas, she presumed, in front of them.

  Kyle gave Madison’s arm a squeeze. “I’ll get you both a coffee.”

  “Thanks.” If she hadn’t already had two years’ experience with his unwavering friendship, she might be worried that he was already emotionally involved in their little agreement. But Kyle had always been a sweet, caring guy. His charming, giving personality was one of many reasons she’d known, if she was going to add the benefits package to her friendship with anyone, he was truly the only choice.

  “Make sure there’s Bailey’s in mine,” Grandma Bryant piped up. She jabbed a thumb in Madison’s direction. “Hers too.”

  Kyle winked before heading off to see to their drinks. He returned momentarily, handing her a mug filled with steaming, pale brown liquid. She took a sip and grinned while he winked again. It was doctored perfectly with creamer.

  And Bailey’s.

  This man got her better than anyone else in her life, except maybe her sister. It was definitely a tight competition though.

  Although Kyle was certainly better looking, if that tipped the scale at all. Oh, and fantastic in bed. And in the shower.

  “That smells amazing,” Kyle said, when his mother and Tommy brought bowls and plates piled with food and placed them on the sideboard.

  “Camila taught me how to make chorizo and eggs,” Kyle’s mother, Deanna, said.

  Madison nodded. “She makes that dish better than any restaurant I’ve ever been to.”

  “I can’t wait to try it,” Kyle commented. “Do you make it too?”

  Madison chuckled. “Nope. The cooking gene skipped over me.”

  “Maybe you just need to learn from one of the best,” Grandma Bryant suggested. “Kyle, you should make your world-famous stuffed French toast one of these mornings while we’re here.”

  “World-famous is a stretch, Grandma,” Tommy said. “Although that is one of my favorite breakfasts of all time.”

  Kyle cooked? She’d known the man for years. How did Madison not know this?

  Probably because any time they got together, it was usually at either his parents’ house or Camila and Tommy’s place, and the hosts were the ones managing their own kitchens.

  “Sure,” Kyle said amicably, starting to sit perpendicular to Grandma Bryant, who was at the head of the table. She placed her hand on the chair and he abruptly popped back up, giving her a questioning look.

  “Sit there,” she said, pointing at the empty chair next to Madison. Once he was seated, Grandma Bryant said, “You should help Kyle when he makes that fancy breakfast for us.”

  Madison shook her head. “I don’t cook.”

  Grandma Bryant was distracted by the dish of hash browns passed her way, so Madison turned to Kyle. “That chili was great, but I had no idea your cooking skills went beyond that.”

  He shrugged. “Mom insisted we all learn. She said it was a surefire way to attract women.”

  Elliot had never cooked for her. But then again, they’d dated in college and had both lived in the dorms, so there hadn’t exactly been opportunity.

  “So,” Kyle said, accepting the hash browns when she passed them to him. “You going to be my sous chef?”

  “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into with that question. There are strong cooking genes on both sides of my family, but, like I said, they totally skipped over me.”

  He grinned and waved his fork at her. “I’m a good instructor.”

  Why was she now imagining him telling her what to do—in bed? She needed to get a grip. They’d just had sex, barely an hour ago!

  She pushed her coffee away. “Okay, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  As the conversation ebbed and flowed around her, Madison finally started to relax.

  Kyle’s mom and Camila were discussing the wedding; the four brothers were good-naturedly arguing over golf scores. Grandma Bryant chugged her spiked coffee.

  Her father’s parents had become fast friends with Kyle’s grandparents. The five of them were making plans to go check out a nearby beach they’d heard allowed nudity. Madison was pretty sure they were going to strike out, unless they were planning to head to the other side of the state, and she was perfectly content to not point that out to them.

  Dad sat quietly, focused on his meal, providing one- or two-word replies when someone asked him a question, otherwise not voluntarily contributing to any of the various conversations. Mom sat next to him, wringing her hands and looking as though the fact that there were empty, used dishes still sitting on the table was giving her high blood pressure.

  Just as Madison was about to put her out of her misery by standing up and starting to clean up after breakfast, her father snarked, “I see you’re sober this morning, Madison.”

  “Dad…” Camila said, a warning in her tone, while Kyle leaned closer to Madison, draping his arm across the back of her chair.

  It wasn’t a threatening or aggressive move, yet it calmed her, made her feel like she had someone in her corner. Camila was always in her corner—they’d had each other’s backs for as long as she could remember when it came to defending each other against their parents—yet Kyle’s slight action warmed her heart. No one else likely even noticed, but that didn’t matter.

  “I’m just saying,” Dad said, waving his hand in Madison’s direction. “Yesterday she could hardly stand upright. That boy had to practically carry her onto the plane.”

  “That boy has a name,” Madison snapped. “It’s Kyle, and he’s Camila’s soon-to-be husband’s brother. Which means he’s going to be part of our family soon. Maybe you should treat him appropriately.”

  “He is,” Camila said, standing and grabbing her plate with far more force than necessary. “That’s exactly how he treats family.” She snagged a few more dishes and stormed off to the kitchen, with Tommy hurrying after her.

  “Nice job, Dad,” Madison said. Kyle slid his hand under her hair and gently massaged her neck. She hoped no one noticed, although she didn’t stop him. It felt too good, and it was helping to calm her down.

  Without apologizing or in any other way acknowledging the conversation, Dad pointed at the cluster of wicker furniture on the other end of the screened in porch. “I’m going to sit over there and read my book.”

  Mom continued wringing her hands for a few moments and then followed him.

  Madison grabbed her coffee and took a slug of the lukewarm liquid. Kyle plucked it out of her hands. “Let me get you a refill.”

  Madison’s maternal grandparents both stood. “We’re going for a walk.”

  The five troublemaking grandparents all excused themselves at t
he same time, and Madison was afraid they really were going in search of a nude beach.

  “Should someone chaperone them?” she asked.

  Kyle chuckled. “I think they can handle themselves. Grandma Bryant has Philip’s number on speed dial so his FBI buddies can swoop in and save her if she gets in trouble.”

  Deanna wandered around the table, topping off coffee mugs. Everybody was apparently going to ignore the Alverez family’s little spat.

  Which was probably for the best.

  Camila and Tommy returned to the table, fresh mimosas in their hands, and a calm expression on Camila’s face. Knowing that Tommy could talk her down so quickly after a flare up with their parents definitely earned him brownie points in Madison’s book.

  Camila grabbed an iPad off of the sideboard and stood behind the chair Grandma Bryant had vacated.

  “Okay, let’s go over the general plan for the week. First and foremost, Tommy and I are getting married in two days!” She lifted her arms into the air as the room erupted with cheers.

  “Okay, now that that’s out of the way, today is all business. We have a bunch of stuff to wrap up, so we’ll be running around for most of the day. Tomorrow morning is the rehearsal, followed by brunch and then golf and a spa day. Wednesday is the ceremony!” She again raised her arms as the room cheered.

  “After that, there’s the reception before Tommy and I take off for our honeymoon, and you all get to chill for the rest of the week, taking advantage of gorgeous, sunny Florida weather. Anyone object to that?”

  All four Bryant brothers lifted their beverages and said, “Here, here.”

  “Okay, Tommy and I have to meet with the wedding planner in thirty minutes. We’re going to finalize the details and do a tasting over lunch. That tasting includes sampling the cake they plan to serve at the reception. And apparently our chef is a motocross fan—”

  “Don’t you mean a Tommy Bryant fan?” Tommy interrupted with a cheeky grin.

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Anyway, he graciously offered to make enough cake for all of us, if you all want to join us after lunch.”

  “Cake? I’m totally in,” Philip said, raising his hand like he hoped to get called on in class.

 

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