by Jory Strong
Chapter One
I’m ready, Cade Benson thought. This moment had been coming for three years, but looking around the bar, one of several he and Mace owned, he was certain it had finally arrived.
He should have guessed it was close when he let the buzz cut grow out. Should have realized he was doing it for her. Because he knew the kind of look she’d go for, because the buzz cut wouldn’t allow her to grab his hair as he sucked and kissed and bit, loving every inch of her and leaving her marked.
With her, passion would slide immediately into the primitive. It had to. He’d wanted her too long. They’d wanted her too long, not that Mace had ever admitted to anything more than getting a boner.
He didn’t need to. A couple of years separated them in age, but they were close enough they might as well have been twins.
Next to him Mace tilted back in his chair, lifted a glass of whiskey and downed what remained.
A waitress working the VIP section was there to fill it almost before his brother set the glass on the table.
The place was packed. The drinks were going fast and plenty of hook-up action was in motion.
There’d been a steady stream of women sending you can have me smiles their way or coming to the table hoping they’d invite her to leave with them. Them being the operative word, though the women would be just as happy with a twosome as a threesome.
It might have to go that way from now on.
He didn’t like it. Fuck, the truth was, contemplating claiming her solo made him break out in a cold sweat. Not that he couldn’t please her on his own—he sure as fuck could. But he and Mace had been sharing since the day their old man forced them into a room with a teenage prostitute who had orders to make them men.
That first time, their heads had still been in a place where hanging out with the guys and playing sports was more of an inclination than trying to get into some girl’s panties.
Didn’t matter. They’d known there’d be a camera in the room, so their old man could make sure he got his money’s worth. They’d known the girl would get a beating that’d probably kill her if he and Mace left that room virgins. They’d known their mother would also get a beating, for turning them into pussy-whipped weaklings, his father’s favorite curse when they showed any inclination to be decent human beings.
Cade took a swallow of whiskey to wash down the bile that came with any memory related to their old man. Not that they’d completely escaped the legacy of their parents, though they’d sure as hell made it something a lot healthier. The need to control and dominate, neither of them could shake that, but it was always one hundred percent consensual. They were upfront about what they wanted from the women they hooked up with, and completely honest about where it was going long term—nowhere.
That last part didn’t apply when it came to her.
Cade polished off the whiskey, warded the waitress off with a raised hand.
A blonde threading through the tables just beyond the VIP area looked their way, licking red, red lips as if to remind them of just how much pleasure those lips were capable of delivering.
“What do you think?” Mace asked, “Encore performance tonight, or make a new friend?”
I’m ready. He wasn’t waiting any longer to make Grace Montgomery his, theirs.
“I’m done with the casual.”
The glass in Mace’s hand froze inches away from his mouth, held there for a heartbeat before delivering a shot of whiskey, his brother buying some time, though probably not nearly enough of it in Mace’s opinion.
Maybe he should have given Mace some warning. But it hadn’t crystalized until he’d gotten to the bar, until that first I’m available smile was aimed at him and he knew deep in his gut he was finished playing and ready for serious.
He’d been thinking about Grace more and more often, blown off the possibility he was really ready to commit because most of their recent contact had been at weddings. Lyric’s. Cady’s. He’d told himself there was still plenty of time.
What was another year? She was still so fucking young, twenty-three to their twenty-seven and twenty-nine. She was the same age their mother had been when she made the mistake of getting knocked up by their father with him and getting married because of it.
Mace cupped the glass, thumbs rubbing along the rim. “You’re just bored, that’s all, looking for a challenge. We could open a new bar, branch out into something different.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then your head’s getting fucked up about hitting the big 3-0 in another eight months.”
He glared at Mace.
Mace shrugged. “Just saying.”
Then his expression went serious. “I should have gone to the funeral with you.”
Cade’s jaw tightened. “Wouldn’t have changed this. I’m done with playing around. I’m done with waiting to claim her.”
“Claim who?”
“Don’t fucking play games with me. You know who. You want her as much as I do.”
Mace’s lips flat-lined. “Doesn’t mean I’m ready for the complication.”
Cade took it as an admission that Mace wanted her, understood Grace was a keeper. He motioned to the waitress, giving Mace some room rather than backing him into a corner.
The funeral had been a wake-up call. Last time he’d seen Jesse, he’d thought he was doing okay, finding his way back into civilian life after three tours of duty in Iraq, one in Afghanistan.
In the seven months since, he’d thought about going down to L.A. and checking in a time or two, but the bars, the women…
He’d never made it.
What a fucking waste of life.
He wasn’t going to let that happen to him. Or Mace.
They’d spent enough time around Grace to know she was the one—whether Mace was willing to admit it or not. They’d held her, wiped away her tears after a trip to the animal shelter done for one of her undergraduate classes, then done it again after she’d visited a retirement home filled with the abandoned elderly.
She was soft-hearted, smart, fiercely loyal. She was feminine, sensual. Honest, while at the same time, a shark at the poker table. She had a fire inside her to do the right thing, possessed a wealth of other qualities, though trying to sum her up with words alone was impossible.
In the end, those words didn’t matter, Grace did. And he no longer gave a flying fuck that her brother had said he’d shoot to kill if either he or Mace went after Jordyn or Grace.
He wasn’t going to wake up one morning and find it was too late to claim her, because some other guy had smartened up faster, or because death took her from him—them.
A brunette with breasts that could glue a man’s eyes to her chest entered the VIP area and headed toward their table.
Fuck the bad timing.
Cade tensed at having Stephany show up like a perfect excuse for Mace to bolt.
She came around the table, leaning down and giving each of them a hug, creating flashbacks with the press of those generous breasts.
His dick twitched, remembering her. His heart kept that twitch from becoming anything more.
Mace engaged her in conversation, bought her a drink.
Cade sweated it out, not that she’d guess he and his brother were engaged in a battle and she’d become a part of it. They’d never disrespect a woman that way. Never leave her feeling used. Never. Not since that first time with the prostitute when there was no good choice but to take what their old man had paid for.
Maybe if he’d been hormone-crazed, he wouldn’t have noticed the body language, her eyes, none of it saying she wanted what was happening in that room.
Shaking the memory off, he gave Stephany his attention. She’d been a lot of fun.
But she’d known from the start that’s all it would ever be. Fun.
No promises. No strings. No future together.
There was only one woman on the planet he was willing to offer those things to.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t be friendly. Couldn’t listen and laugh and appreciate Stephany for the woman she was, but the tightness in his chest and gut didn’t ease until she left—without Mace.
He tried not to read anything into it. Couldn’t stop himself from saying, “Surprised you didn’t go with her.”
Mace shrugged. “Still might. She’ll be here for a while.”
Cade’s jaw clamped, back molars grinding.
Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. He held back the words because he sure as fuck didn’t want to push Mace in that direction.
“Speaking of Grace…”
Cade’s heart kicked, sending a surge of energy straight to his dick. He followed the direction of his brother’s gaze, expecting her but seeing one of her hellion Maguire cousins.
Braden flashed a smile. Came straight to the table and dropped into a chair.
“Third time’s the charm. In case you’re wondering, your other two places are as packed as this one.”
“Want a beer?” Mace asked.
“Sure.”
When Braden had it, Cade asked, “Why are you hunting us down?”
“Wanted to ask if you guys have heard any rumors about an escort service running college girls.”
Cade grinned. “Having trouble scoring?”
“About as much trouble as you guys, though I usually only have to buy a woman a drink or two. Never had to buy a bar to get laid.”
Mace laughed. “To each his own.”
“Why the interest in an escort service?” Cade asked.
“Just helping the baby detective. Bulldog finally gave Grace her first solo case.”
Cade’s heart charged up his throat. All the shit stirred up by Jesse’s funeral returned, hitting harder. “What the fuck? She’s in school getting a Masters on her way to a Doctorate.”
“You’re out of touch, man. But not totally wrong. Nothing says you can’t pursue higher education and work as a detective. So happens, the case he gave her is a good fit.”
“Is it dangerous?” Mace asked.
The dark thickening in his voice jerked Cade’s gaze to his brother. Nothing in the expression. But the question, the tone of voice…
Yeah, you don’t like that something could happen to her, do you? She stirs you up, makes you want to protect her, doesn’t she?
He would have smiled except Braden didn’t answer the damn question. Even then, it wouldn’t have been more than a baring of teeth.
“Is it dangerous?” Cade asked.
Braden shrugged. “I’m on it. Keeping an eye on things.”
Not fucking good enough. Not that Braden wouldn’t do what he had to do to keep Grace safe, but he obviously wasn’t covering her 24/7.
Starting tonight she’s going to have that kind of protection.
Cade’s eyes narrowed at just how casual Braden was acting. At just how casual he’d sounded about the possibility of danger.
The guy might look and act like a blond beach bum, a complete party animal, but there was substance behind the pretty-boy looks. On top of that, he had some of the freaky Maguire sight.
Why show up tonight? Why come in person and not just call?
He gave Braden a hard look. “What’s the case?”
“Confidential.”
“Fuck confidential. Give us the big picture.” He’d get the details from Grace.
Braden tipped back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world, like he had all the time in the world.
Cade started silently counting to ten.
Braden grinned, like he knew about the thing Cade had for Grace despite being so sure he’d kept it off the Maguire and Montgomery radar screens.
Seven.
Eight.
Nine.
Braden said, “Parents worried about a daughter who suddenly has a lot of unexplained income.”
Cade’s hand tightened on his glass. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Mace’s doing the same.
“Unexplained wealth usually means prostitution,” his brother said. “Or drugs.”
Braden took a swallow of beer. “True.”
Cade’s back teeth ground together. He reminded himself that pulverizing Braden would only delay getting to Grace. “That’s not the kind of case Crime Tells usually takes on.”
“True again. Bulldog isn’t happy about it but a favor was called in, not the first in recent times, though hopefully it’ll be the last.”
For an instant Braden’s casual fell away, turned into haunted.
Cade would have sworn the guy twitched like he was fighting looking over his shoulder. But as much as he’d like to wind Braden up, he was more concerned about Grace. “She doing surveillance tonight?”
“No. The baby detective got a tracker on the target’s car. Odds are high the girl she’s watching is in for the night and won’t get visitors. I’m picking up the surveillance in the morning.”
Trying to sound only mildly interested, Cade asked, “Grace still living close to campus?”
Braden’s smile said not fooled. “Nope. Bulldog gave her Lyric’s old place after Calista moved in with Benito and Dante.”
And there was the proof Braden wasn’t shitting them. One of the perks of working for Crime Tells was a house and no monthly rent. Bulldog owned seven of them.
Braden, Shane and Cole Maguire lived side by side on one street. Around the corner four more houses belonging to Bulldog were lined up.
Braden polished off the beer, set it on the table. “My work here is done. Now to reward myself.”
He headed straight toward a table of five women. Cade held for a count a ten, used fingers on the rim of the empty glass to spin it on the table.
He met his brother’s gaze. Waited for another ten count, for Mace to say what they were both thinking, that Grace shouldn’t be working this case to begin with. That it was time to step into her life and take charge, keeping her safe.
The cold sweat returned when Mace didn’t say anything.
Come on, Mace. Don’t make me do this. You want her as badly as I do. I’ve seen the way you look at her when you think no one is watching.
Mace didn’t break the silence.
Cade nearly signaled the waitress. Didn’t.
A spasm went through his chest. Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it.
He stood. “Are you in or out?”
“Out.”
Ache dead-centered in his heart. Desperation made him say, “Take her with me once, I dare you.”
A muscle jerked in Mace’s cheek. “What is this, high school?”
“No. It’s the rest of my fucking life.”
Mace lifted his glass. “Then have at it. Enjoy yourself.”
It was too flip. Too casual. And they were too close, too tight for him not to understand just how hard Mace was fighting answering the dare, fighting against a future that centered around Grace.
He’ll come around.
Or he won’t.
Cade steeled himself, accepting the possibility if that’s what claiming Grace meant. “See you when I see you,” he said, leaving the bar.
His blue Porsche Boxster was parked next to Mace’s dark gray Tesla Roadster. Cade got in, grimaced at seeing it was a few minutes past midnight.
Bright. Real bright leaving it so late. But the time didn’t deter him from going straight to Grace.
She was home, her silver VW Beetle parked in the driveway and a light on in the house. He heated up the closer he got to her door, wondered if she’d ended up with one of the dachshunds Lyric had rescued a while back and if it was going to bark loudly enough that whoever was living in Bulldog’s other houses would see him and start a betting pool.
Didn’t matter. Hell, by morning this was going
to be a done deal. Grace would have a permanent man in her life, though he could always hope big brother didn’t get wind of it until things were completely settled.
He rang the bell. Heard a muffled bark and smiled.
The outside light came on. The door opened.
Fuck. She was even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. Or maybe it just seemed that way because he was finally here to stake his claim.
“Cade,” she said.
The sound of her voice fisted his dick. Desire scorched through him, nearly dropping him to his knees.
He wasn’t alone in feeling it. He’d always been able to read her desire, though she’d tried to hide it and denial had allowed him to ignore it—for a while. Not any longer.
The funeral in Los Angeles today might have been the catalyst. Braden’s showing up at the bar might have given him an added excuse for arriving at Grace’s door, but this moment had always been coming. It’d been coming since the day they’d laid eyes on each other.
The same want he’d first seen three years ago was there in the flush across Grace’s cheekbones, in the parting of her lips, in the way she looked at him, in the softening of her body beneath loose sweats that did nothing to downplay her beauty.
She practically vibrated with the need to submit, to give herself over to a dominant man’s keeping. He intended to be that man in Grace’s life. One of two men. If Mace would stop fighting the inevitable.
“You going to invite me in, Grace?”
No should be her first answer. It should be her second and third, that’s what the voice of self-preservation said, but Grace knew it wouldn’t be her final one.
How many times had she dreamed of just this? Cade or Mace, or both of them showing up at her door. One day seeing her as more than Lyric or Braden or Shane’s straight-arrow-smart cousin, or Michael’s little sister who could, under no circumstances, be touched. Of them seeing her as someone who wouldn’t run screaming at the things they wanted, needed, expected from the women they took to bed.
And there was the problem, the heartbreak waiting to happen. She knew about their lifestyle, knew anything she experienced with them was going to fall into the category of temporary fun—at least where they were concerned.
Don’t! the voice of self-preservation said again, but that voice was drowned out by the firming of Cade’s lips, the hardness that entered his eyes, the power that suddenly took the place of casualness so everything about him left an impression of dominance.