by S. J. Smith
"I'm not going anywhere until you either talk to me—" Jake leaned into her farther, his hard mouth descending onto hers. "Or fuck me… right here."
Her eyebrows slammed down. "You're crazy," she said against his lips.
"Really? You think this crazy?" He rocked his hard length into her, making her clitoris quiver in response. "I've just come half way around the world to find my girl in bed with my little brother." His fingers tightened on her hip.
She loved the way his white hand looked on her brown skin. It ignited every passion inside her system.
"Three thousand miles after weeks of seeing and doing gutter shit to find my girl gone—taken off and two States over in a shitty motel bed with my brother." He moved his hips in a rhythm against her panties. "Fuckin' crazy."
She frowned and gritted her teeth against the hot ache he was purposefully building in her.
"And all I want to do is fuck her back into being mine."
"Jake—" His words, what he said… the way he growled them… she arched against him feeling like a cat in raptured heat, all hot bursting sensations desperately needing somewhere to go. She was either going to run screaming, or scream at him to make her come. "How did you even find us?"
He leaned in closer and pressed his tongue between her lips. "I'll always find my girl. You should know that by now. But especially after she threatened to leave me. Break up with me before I leave for deployment. I made you a promise that day, remember?"
She accepted his tongue with an achy whimper. It was Heaven… pure genius the way that he kissed her, stroked her, stoked her into a fire with his synchronized rhythm of plunder of her mouth and movement of his hips, rubbing his hot length across her aching nub.
She desperately wanted him to make her come. "Jake…" she moaned his name in a needy whisper.
He ran a strong finger along her inner thigh then gripped the bottom of her t-shirt. "You're wearing his shirt." He pulled it up over her head, making her breasts wobble before him, the sudden cool breeze tightening her dark nipples into buds. "You're in bed with another man, wearing his shit." He ground out the words before tangling his fingers in the side of her panties. With a quick tear he yanked them over off her hip, and down her soft thighs, leaving her stripped and naked.
"Stay.” He held her eyes as he released her wrists.
"It's not what it looks like." She suddenly needed to reassure him.
"It fuckin' better not be." He slid his palm over her womanhood, thumbing her clit as he pressed his longest finger into her at the same time. "Because you're my woman."
"God— Jake!"
"You are so fucking wet. Still so fucking tight. You better not have given him anything that's mine." He pressed down and circled her nub, massaged it and pumped his finger deeper inside of her until she closed her eyes and moaned.
"Eyes on me," he demanded rolling her clitoris between two of his fingers. "You remember my promise?" He leaned down and took one of her dark nipples between his eager teeth.
"God, Jake. This is… so wrong," she arched into his mouth and moved her hips against his hand, trying to relieve herself, make herself orgasm. Henry was right there in the bed with them. "Henry's right—"
"Fuck him." Jake squeezed his teeth around her nipple.
Oh God. She spread her thighs and bucked against his hand.
"My promise. Tell me," he demanded, mouth still on her breast.
"You said… that you'd fuck me… wherever you found me… when you came home."
"That's right." He slid his tongue in circles around her hard nipple. "And now I'm home. And I've found you. And I’m gonna make good on my promise." He reached between their bodies and unzipped his pants. Then, with few movements, he gripped her shoulder and her hip, and thrust inside of her, driving her body up the bed.
"Jake!"
He thrust and thrust, pounding against her g-spot. Building. Building. Rubbing into her pelvis, driving against that pleasure point. She thrust and rubbed back until she was panting his name and whining her need against the satisfied smile on mouth.
"That's right, baby. Tell me… tell me," he coaxed her, and ground his hips in circles, seating himself deep each time until… until…
"Oh God, Jake!" She sunk her nails into his shoulders and screamed his name.
Henry stopped snoring and jerked awake. "What the fuck—?"
Jake let go as she climaxed around him, plunging into her like a demon, growling into her ear. "Fuck, baby—so hot—so tight—fuckin’ missed you—my girl—" He rooted himself balls deep and burst hot jets of ejaculate inside her quivering body, hips jerking and twitching without any kind of control.
Henry rolled over. " Jake—? That you?"
Jake reared up, still jerking inside of her when he leaned over her and punched his brother square in the face, the force sending the half-asleep man off the bed to thud on the floor.
Marianne shrieked in horror. "Oh my God Jake! You killed him!"
*****
"He's fine." Jake reluctantly rolled off Marianne's warm body and stood over his brother's writhing form. "Don't ever let me catch you in bed again with my girl."
"Jesus, man," Henry rolled around with his hand over his face. "I wasn't in bed with her. I was on the bed—over the covers. She was in the bed." He curled into fetal position and rocked his skinny body. "Owww, my face. You fucking broke my fucking face."
“Oh good Christ.” Jake rolled his eyes. "I barely touched you." He reached down and dragged Henry to stand. "You're lucky I didn't kick your sorry ass." He stared at his little brother, doing a complete body check before he hugged him. It had been too long since he checked up on this kid.
"You did." Henry held his face with one hand and hugged his brother back with the other. "I need ice. Marianne, I don't suppose you'd get me any."
Marianne snorted as she pulled the bed sheet more tightly around her. She scowled at them both and walked into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Someone in the next room banged on the wall and hollered, "Shut the fuck up in there!"
Marianne banged back. "Mind your own business!"
Jake shook his head. That was his girl, all Black American princess complete with attitude and drama. She was exactly as he'd have her and remember her every night on deployment. Mari had been his girl since he was fifteen years old. Anyone looking to change that was in for one hell of a fight, including her.
He rounded on his brother. "How the fuck could you bring her to this shit-hole? Have you lost your mind? What the hell is going on?"
Henry put his hands up and walked to the mini-fridge. "She's been giving me hell for two days now, so don't worry." He took out a beer and placed it against his swelling eye. "Ah, ah, ah. Jesus," he whined. "It's already swollen." He leaned over to the fishing scene picture hung on the wall and tapped gingerly at his eyebrow in the dirty reflection. "Couldn't you have aimed for my stomach or something?"
Jake rolled his eyes. "If I had, you'd be in the bathroom puking right now, talking to the big white telephone for the next half hour."
How did he end up with such a little shit for a brother? Their father was six foot five and over two hundred and fifty pounds. He’d boxed throughout university, was a total business shark, and maintained his heavyweight character through a lifetime of boardroom bullying that made him and his partners millions. Though, after his first wife, Jake's mother, died of cancer, he'd lost most of that weight along with his will to live, replacing them both with a reckless destroyer lifestyle that left everyone in shock, none more so than his business partners.
Victoria Langdon would weep to see the state her death had left her once-robust husband in, not to mention the barren state in which he’d left their finances.
Jake looked out the window where the faintest bit of dawn teased the four-AM sky. He was goddamned tired after tracking these two. Wondering what the hell, thinking the worst, going crazy at what he might find. He pulled out the only chair in the room and plunked Henry down
in it. "You have about five minutes to sort this shit out for me.” He nodded toward the bathroom where his girl had turned on the shower. "Because as soon as she's done, I'm taking her out of here and back home."
Henry winced when one of his red curls brushed across his swollen eye. Tears filled the other one as he stared back at his big brother.
Jake grit his teeth. His brother was definitely the byproduct of his mother, Darlene Breezhill, aka EZ Breezy On at 8.
Shortly after his wife's death, Henry Langdon sold the vintage Aston Martin he'd given her on their tenth anniversary and blew the money on a week-long drinking binge with a roadhouse stripper named, EZ Breezy. Three years later, Ms. EZ On at 8 dropped little Henry off on the Langdon estate doorstep with a DNA report in his knapsack. She pulled out a marker from her purse and wrote down her cell number on the stunned maid's hand before she took off for Vegas with an unnamed man who waited in the car.
"No!" Henry sprang from the chair. "You can't leave me here. Those guys will kill me."
Jake frowned. "What guys?"
"The ones that called—about a week ago, well mom called actually—they grabbed the phone from her and—"
"Your mother?" Jake ground down on his back teeth. Seriously? That bitch contacted his little brother? After the wad of money he threw at her not even a year ago to stay away? Goddammit.
"Yeah. She called last week. Said she needed help—needed dad to send her money, but he isn't here, he's still in Taiwan or Bangladesh or wherever and—"
"Dad's in Taiwan?" What the fuck? "I just talked to the senior three days ago and he didn't say anything about being away. How long has he been gone?"
"I dunno. A coupla weeks," Henry shrugged. "He emailed me that our trust would be deposited mid-month in case he wasn't back. I wasn't really paying attention at the time. I was kind of—you know…"
Jack frowned. "No I don't know. Spell it out."
Henry started pacing.
"Henry—"
His brother stopped and scowled at him. "Coming down off a bit of a high, okay?"
Dread washed over Jake. He and his brother had been here before and it was not a place where Jake wanted to be again. "Are you usin' again?"
Henry flinched. "No."
"You still in school?"
Henry looked pained. "Well…"
"Henry," Jake warned.
His brother ran a hand through his hair, then put both out in a halt stance. "Okay. Let me say that it wasn't my fault before you rip me a new one." He put a hand on his heart. "And I can explain it all, I swear. The stuff wasn't even mine—seriously—no, no. Jake!" He jumped back when Jake stepped toward him. "This thing with Mom had me totally stressed out. I couldn’t think. I didn't know what to do. These guys are serious and she was all hysterical and our trust money doesn't come for another three weeks. I tried to explain that but these guys didn't want to hear it. Meanwhile she's crying and screaming in the background, and they kept hollerin'—"
Jake put his hands on his face while his brother raged in a circle. Did he really think coming home for two weeks’ leave would involve any kind of R and R? Clearly he'd forgotten what it was to deal with his family and bullshit. It had only been forty-eight hours and he already painfully missed the military. His unit. Orders and discipline. Dealing with the war on terror was fucking easier than dealing with this shit. He stared around the room as if somehow sanity and logic would pour out of the dirt-streaked wall.
Unfortunately, all he saw was his brother. Two years on his own now, and still the concept of maturity and responsibility was completely lost on him.
"Henry. Jesus. Stop. Just fucking stop talking." He got into his brother's face, grinding his teeth so hard it hurt. This was supposed to be his and Marianne's time, not this… bullshit.
Henry froze and stared at his brother, his big green eyes wide like an owl’s. "You're gonna help me, right? I didn't want to go to Marianne but I didn't know what else to do. I kind of—"
"Panicked?" Marianne came out of the bathroom in a coconut-scented mist. She tossed the towel around her head back into the sink before she dumped three bottles of conditioner and two pots of hair grease onto the bed. "Showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Three o'clock in the morning screamin' and cryin' just like he's doing now." She picked up a wide tooth comb and pulled it through her hair.
Henry scowled at her. "I wasn't… crying. I just left a smoke-filled room and I had a bunch of shit in my eyes."
"Right." Marianne rolled her eyes.
Jake couldn't take his eyes off her, now she was dressed in jeans and a long sleeved T that rode up to reveal her pierced belly button every time she lifted her arm to her hair. His dick kept twitching at the sight. She had put in the diamond he'd given her three years ago on the day he left for BUD/S training; and as a challenge accepted (I make it through Hell Week and you wear my diamond), she got herself pierced the day he made it through, and wore it after he graduated a full-fledged SEAL.
He looked from his diamond in her navel to her fingers around the brush. He was home on a mission to get her to wear another one of his diamonds, this time on her ring finger if he had his way. And he would have his way if he had to politely ask, challenge, romance or bully her into saying yes.
He captured her eyes and held them. We are not done.
She smirked and continued playing with her hair.
Marianne had been born a free spirit, and the only frigging things she committed to were those of her own choosing. He would make sure he stayed her first choice. He'd spent a lifetime chasing her, and grounding her. Even though she sometimes managed to squirm out from beneath him, run off to pursue some kind of wonderful only she could see, she remained his and his alone.
It was something they both knew and the time had come for him to cement it.
He grit his teeth and looked back at his brother. "So what did you do? Drag her out of bed to help your sorry ass?"
"Like it's the first time?" She tossed her comb onto the bed and peered into the cracked mirror on the wall behind her. "Only now with your arrival, my part here is done. You can sort him out. I have an exam and a thesis summary to write before Friday."
Jake glared at Henry. "You took her away from final classes?"
"They said they'd kill her if we didn't pay her debts." Henry grabbed the beer can and looked pleadingly at Marianne before he pressed it gingerly to his eye again. He blinked the other one at Jake. "She was the one who calmed those guys down to get this exchange in place."
Jake looked back at Marianne. "Exchange?"
She looked back him. "I do have skills, you know."
"I can't fucking believe this.” He looked back at his brother. "How much?" He grabbed the beer can and slammed it down on the top of the fridge. "How much does that bitch owe?"
Henry looked at the floor. "I ah… dunno—about…"
Marianne scooped up her pile of hair products and dumped them into Jake's army bag.
"Hey." He shot her a look. "You can't put that stuff in there."
She twisted her hair into some kind of ponytail, looking at Henry the whole time in the reflection. "You don't know?" She raised an eyebrow. "I know." She nodded toward the bottom of the bed. "Fifty thousand dollars is what I know. In a back pack out in bumfuck nowhere. Like some kind of really bad B-movie plot. The entire cost of my graduate studies grant cashed out for this shit."
"You are fucking kidding me!" Jake grabbed Henry's shirt and swung him around.
"Ow. Jesus, Jake! You don't know these guys, they're crazy and—"
Jake tossed him toward the bottom of the bed. "Get it out."
Henry sprawled beneath the bed and came out holding a stuffed knapsack. Jake grabbed it from him and rifled through the wads of cash inside. Un-fucking-believable! He was in a bad B-movie.
"So what was your plan? Where the fuck were you two going with this?" He continued to dig through the bag in shock. "Just show up someplace with a bag of money, the two of you, and they'd
just hand over your mother? You can't be that stupid—either one of you."
"Excuse me," Marianne put a hand on her hip. "I am not stupid. A victim maybe but—who are you calling stupid?" She glared at Jake.
He put up a flat hand to her and turned to Henry. "Where exactly is your mother? Still in Vegas? The two of you are on a road trip to Vegas?" He flicked a look back to Marianne.
"Don't look at me. I'm leaving. Taking my stupid ass home." She grabbed up the car keys and snatched her purse. "He," she threw a look over her shoulder, "is your problem now. But let's be clear. I will torture you both if I don't get my tuition back the second your trust pays out." She jabbed the keys in Henry's direction. "Don't let this be like the bail episode. I want my money back."
Jake looked from Marianne to Henry. "What bail episode?"
Marianne ignored them both and pulled open the front door, screaming when she ran into three huge bikers darkening the doorway.
*****
Marianne put her hands on the biggest biker's chest as the hulking beast of a man forced her back inside the room. "You just come around here, sweat pea."
She stumbled over her feet and his big-ass boots, her purse and keys flying from her fingers when he grabbed her arm and yanked her around his back and kicked the room door shut.
"Umph!" Air lodged in her throat with her chest wedged between his broad leather back and the cheap wooden door, a thick stench of body odor and sour ass blasting up her nose.
"And stay quiet." He leaned backward, squashing her more.
"Hurt her and you're a dead man." Jake's voice came coldly from across the room.