One Night of Trouble

Home > Romance > One Night of Trouble > Page 7
One Night of Trouble Page 7

by Elle Kennedy


  “And you’ll get it.” He smirked. “Tomorrow.”

  “No way. We either finish this now, or we don’t finish it at all.”

  “We’ll finish it.” He offered a careless shrug. “Tomorrow.”

  Brett gaped at him. He’d never seen a woman look more livid, and maybe it made him a total jackass, but he was kind of digging the whole I’m-going-to-murder-you vibes she was throwing off.

  Just meant it would be all the more explosive when he finally gave them what they both craved.

  “Oh, what time should we go to your dad’s house tomorrow?”

  She stared at him as if he’d just confessed to strangling her cat. “We? We? You’re living in a dream world if you think that’s ever—” She stopped abruptly, every breath coming out as a harsh pant. “Listen up, AJ—what the hell does AJ stand for, anyway?”

  “Adam James,” he said helpfully.

  She marched up and jabbed him right between the pecs with her index finger. “Listen up, Adam James, you can’t just…just…blueball me—”

  He choked down a laugh.

  “—and then expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows and sparkly silver unicorns! And you know what? I don’t need you to be my boyfriend anymore. I’ll just tell my family that you ended up being a total jerk—and guess what, dude, it won’t even be a lie!”

  She stomped to the desk to grab her purse, shoved the strap over her shoulder, and stomped back to the door.

  “I am so frickin’ pissed right now,” she announced. “And FYI? After I get home and finish constructing a voodoo doll of you? I’m going to make myself come a million times. No, a gazillion times.”

  He arched one brow. “No, you won’t.”

  “Don’t you dare give me that smug, self-righteous look. I’m not playing your little mind games, okay?” She flung open the door. “Have yourself a good night, AJ.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called after her.

  “No, you won’t,” she said without turning around.

  He was still smiling as she flew out the door.

  Chapter Seven

  “Hey, you made it!” Rob said happily, his dark eyes focused on the man who’d just strolled through the back gate like he owned the place.

  Oh no he di-int.

  Brett’s jaw hit the freshly mowed lawn of her father’s backyard as her gaze collided with AJ.

  AJ.

  Frickin’ AJ.

  Disbelief, anger, and an infuriating burst of joy erupted inside her as the man who’d tormented her yesterday approached the patio table where she sat with her dad and brothers. What the hell was he doing here? She’d made herself clear last night. So clear she might as well have hired a plane to write the words in the sky—their arrangement was over. Kaput. Dunzo. After the stunt he’d pulled, she wanted nothing more to do with the jerk.

  Liar. Of course you do.

  Brett silenced the internal voice, choosing instead to shoot her deepest, meanest scowl in AJ’s direction. When she noticed how good he looked, her irritation only doubled. The guy was wearing khakis, for Pete’s sake, all preppy-like with his white T-shirt and flawless blond hair and clean-shaven jaw. She wasn’t supposed to find him appealing, damn it. The boy-next-door type had never done it for her in the past.

  Boy next door. The description lingered in her head, triggering the urge to snort aloud. Ha. Boy next door, her ass. AJ Walsh was the devil.

  She still couldn’t believe he’d lured her to the club last night, brought her to the orgasmic edge, and then asked her to leave. All so he could indulge in his little—what had he called it? Right. An exercise in anticipation.

  Well, double ha. He’d been on a power trip, plain and simple. He’d wanted to see how far and how hard he could push her, and if there was one thing Brett Conlon didn’t appreciate, it was being pushed around.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” AJ told the group. “My GPS took me on a crazy route. It doesn’t seem to understand what one-way street means.”

  “Well, I’m glad you found the place all right,” Rob said, sticking out his arm so the two men could exchange a fist bump.

  “I thought you had to work,” Brett spoke up tightly, her cloudy expression leaving no doubt as to how she felt about this unwanted intrusion.

  “Nope, turns out Reed and Gage can handle the inventory on their own,” he answered, his lie coming out as effortlessly as hers. “I tried to call you for directions, but I think your phone’s dead. So I grabbed Rob’s cell number off the Conlon Ink website, and luckily he got back to me quick-fast.”

  “Yes, how lucky,” she muttered.

  Brett set down the burger she’d been holding. Her appetite had vanished. She felt like diving out of her chair and kicking AJ in the shin, but the new Brett wasn’t allowed to lose her temper. Especially when her father was gazing at AJ with blatant approval.

  Her dad raised his massive body out of his chair and extended a hand. “Jimmy Conlon. And you must be the man who’s dating my daughter.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m AJ.”

  “Can it with this sir business. Call me Jimmy.”

  The two men exchanged a hearty handshake, and unlike Brett’s previous boyfriends, AJ didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by her father’s size.

  At six four, with his bushy red beard, muscular chest, and multitude of tattoos, her dad painted an imposing picture. God knew Troy had been scared shitless the first time he’d seen him.

  “Nice to meet you, Jimmy,” AJ said easily. “I hear I made you some money back in the day.”

  Jimmy’s mouth stretched in a wide grin. “Ten grand, son. You helped pay off the mortgage.”

  AJ grinned back. “Glad I could be of assistance.” He turned to the other two men at the large, round table. “Jordan, right?” he said to the younger one. “I remember you from high school.”

  Jordan didn’t get up, but leaned forward to shake AJ’s hand. “I remember you too. You were lightning fast on that football field.”

  Brett’s oldest brother, Mike, rounded out the introductions, and Brett couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of AJ surrounded by the men in her family. Every Conlon male was inked up, had facial hair, and stood well over six feet tall. AJ was around Jordan’s size at six one, but next to her dad and brothers, he looked like a rich pretty boy who’d gotten lost on his way to the country club and accidentally wandered into their backyard.

  Come to think of it, he probably was rich. Brett had no idea where he’d grown up, but he didn’t look like someone who hailed from Southie.

  Yet strangely enough, he seemed to fit right in. Brett had to swallow her amazement as AJ chatted with her dad and brothers as if he’d known them for years. He readily accepted a bottle of Bud Light from Rob, along with the burger and shrimp plate her dad handed him.

  Brett let the casual interaction go on for several minutes before she’d had enough. She hadn’t invited him, damn it!

  Okay, well, technically she had, but then she’d uninvited him. The guy had a lot of nerve showing up after he’d left her high and dry last night.

  Or maybe high and wet was the more apt description.

  “I want to give AJ a tour of the house,” she announced.

  The men stopped talking. Her dad shot her a quizzical look before speaking in a wry voice. “The man’s just sitting down to eat, princess. He can take the tour later.”

  “No, it’s okay,” AJ intervened, setting his plate on the table. “I wouldn’t mind seeing the house my angel grew up in.”

  His angel?

  Oh, hell no.

  Brett grabbed AJ’s hand and dragged him to the sliding door that led into the kitchen. “I can’t wait for you to see it,” she said through clenched teeth.

  After she’d closed the door behind them, she bulldozed past the kitchen and marched toward the hall, not bothering to see if he was following.

  He was. But he had the good sense to keep three feet of distance between them as they squared off in the hall.
<
br />   “What the hell!” Brett blurted out. “I told you the arrangement was off.”

  His lips twitched. “I decided to call your bluff.”

  “It wasn’t a bluff. I meant every frickin’ word.”

  “I know I left you hurting, but if it helps, I was hurting just as bad.” He ruefully glanced at his crotch.

  Brett’s traitorous eyes lowered, and her breath hitched when she noticed his unmistakable hard-on.

  “Good. You deserve to hurt.” Irritation bubbled inside her, along with indignation over what he’d done last night. Depriving her of an orgasm like that. Asshole. “I can’t believe you just stopped,” she muttered.

  “I told you why I did.”

  “Mmm-hmmm. Your bullshit anticipation excuse.”

  “It wasn’t an excuse.” He took a step toward her. “The anticipation is half the fun, baby. The hunger…that burning ache of wanting something so badly but not being able to take it…”

  The air in the hallway got hotter. Thickened with awareness.

  AJ inched closer, slow and purposeful, effectively backing her into the wall. Her butt bumped into solid drywall. She had nowhere to go.

  She found herself staring at his mouth. The sensual curve of it, the surprisingly full bottom lip. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from acting on the impulse to kiss him.

  “Did you make yourself come last night?” he murmured.

  “Yes.” She shot him a haughty look. “Many times.”

  “Liar.” He lifted his finger to her face and traced the seam of her lips. “You wouldn’t be this tense if you had.”

  Brett gritted her teeth. “I’m tense because you crashed our barbecue. I told you I didn’t want you to come.”

  “Bullshit. You do want me to come.” The silky note in his voice told her he wasn’t talking about the barbecue. “I want you to come, too.” His eyes grew heavy-lidded. “I wanted to feel your orgasm squeezing my cock last night.”

  “But you stopped,” she reminded him in accusation.

  “I stopped,” he agreed.

  His hand drifted down to the waistband of her jeans.

  Brett’s heart skipped a beat. “What are you doing?” she squeaked.

  AJ didn’t answer. He popped open the button and pulled the zipper down, then slipped his hand inside. Her sex instantly clenched beneath his warm palm. She involuntarily rubbed against it, and God, it felt so good she almost keeled over.

  Her body was hypersensitive from the lack of relief she’d given it yesterday, her clit swollen to the point of pain. She knew AJ could feel how damp her panties were, but she was too turned on to care.

  He stroked her gently, the heel of his hand teasing her clit and unleashing a flurry of shivers. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she melted into his skillful touch.

  “And I’m going to stop now, too.”

  Brett’s eyes flew open. “What?”

  “I’m going to take you to the edge again. And then yank you right back.”

  God, she was already close. Just a tiny bit more pressure and she’d come apart, so hard she’d probably see stars.

  But the pressure didn’t come. AJ withheld it from her, continuing to brush her clit with featherlight caresses.

  “And after lunch?” he went on. “I’ll find another reason to get you alone, and I’ll do it again.” He drew a teasing circle around her clit. “By the time this day is over, you’re going to want me so bad you won’t be able to breathe. You won’t be able to walk without feeling that burn between your legs.”

  “Neither will you.” Smirking, she cupped his impressive package over his jeans and squeezed hard.

  A tormented sound escaped his lips. “Oh, I’ll be feeling the same burn, baby. I’m going to be aching for you.”

  “Then why?” she demanded in frustration. “Why are you torturing us?”

  “Anticipation,” he said again. “Think about how good it will be when we finally let go. Like a slow burning fuse, getting hotter and hotter…and then”—he brought his mouth to her neck and nipped at her feverish flesh— “when it explodes…”

  “Bang,” she whispered.

  “Oh yeah. Bang,” he echoed, low and seductive. “You’re gonna come so hard tonight, Brett. So hard you’ll scream.”

  He lightly pinched her clit, and her entire body jerked.

  In the blink of an eye, his hand disappeared.

  “Now let’s go back outside.” He smiled. “My food is getting cold.”

  …

  Torture.

  That was the only word to describe what he was putting his body through. The cuts and bruises and bloody noses he’d endured during his fighting days were nothing compared to the pain AJ was feeling right now. Every muscle was strung tight, every drop of blood pulsing in his groin so that he not only felt horny, but light-headed.

  Delaying climax had seemed like a good idea last night. Today, AJ just wanted to punch his own jaw for coming up with such an excruciating plan.

  Fortunately, Brett’s family proved to be a good distraction from the dull ache. Her brothers were a laugh riot, regaling him with stories about their lives and their work at the family tattoo parlors, while her father barraged him with questions about his own life. He felt like he was on the witness stand at times, but Jimmy Conlon’s laid-back attitude and contagious sarcasm made the whole interrogation process surprisingly fun.

  Eventually, the conversation shifted to sports, which didn’t surprise him, seeing as there was a Patriots banner hanging over the sliding door. The Conlon men were football nuts, and soon they were throwing out statistics and making predictions for the upcoming season like they were ESPN correspondents.

  As the sports talk dragged on, AJ noticed that Brett’s expression had completely glazed over. She’d found a pen and sketchpad somewhere, and was in the process of doodling what looked like an elephant wearing ice skates and a teeny crown.

  AJ had to chuckle as he glanced over her shoulder at her handiwork. “I think we’re boring Brett,” he announced to the guys.

  Rob gave a careless shrug. “Ah, she’s used to it.”

  “Doesn’t make it right,” Brett muttered under her breath.

  AJ experienced a pang of sympathy as Jimmy and his boys went back to chatting without a single look at Brett. Obviously it was a common occurrence for her, but he still felt bad watching her sit on the sidelines while her family ignored her.

  Though it made sense now, her single-minded determination to show her family she’d changed. But he also wondered if her attempts at pleasing them had less to do with the tattoo parlor she wanted to run, and more about wanting her family to pay attention to her. To notice her.

  He, on the other hand, found it impossible not to notice her. His gaze tracked her like a missile as she went to the cooler to grab a beer. Dark blue jeans hugged her ass and a loose cardigan covered her arms, which was a damn shame. Her tattoos were too spectacular to hide.

  They’d slept together less than forty-eight hours ago, yet it suddenly felt like an eternity since he’d last seen her naked. His cock went semi hard as he imagined stripping her clothes off and licking every inch of her body again.

  He gave his growing erection a silent reprimand, then walked over to Brett and rested his hand on the small of her back. “I like your family,” he confessed. “They’re a lot of fun.”

  Brett’s gaze shifted across the yard to where Rob and Mike were engaged in a loud argument about the benefits of a nickel defense.

  “They’re okay, I guess,” she said grudgingly. Then she smiled. “My brothers can be a pain in the ass, but at least they’ve always got my back. Do you have any siblings?”

  His shoulders tensed. “No.”

  The second the word left his mouth, guilt exploded in his gut. Fuck. It felt like a betrayal to Joey’s memory to deny his existence.

  “When I was growing up I used to wish I was an only child,” Brett said, oblivious to his current state of turmoil. “I felt like my da
d gave so much attention to my brothers, and not enough for me. I wanted him all to myse—”

  “I had a brother,” he blurted out.

  She froze. “What? But you just said—”

  “He died,” AJ admitted, swallowing a lump of pain. “So technically, I don’t have any siblings. But I used to.”

  Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. How did he die?”

  It was difficult to answer when his throat had closed up to the point of suffocation. “Accident,” he mumbled. “And not something I want to get into right now.”

  To his relief, Brett rerouted her line of questioning. “What was he like?”

  Bitterness promptly joined the eddy of emotions in his stomach. “He was perfect.”

  She offered a wry look. “Nobody’s perfect.”

  “Trust me, Joey was. Football star, straight-A student, perfect manners, hero complex. He followed the rules, didn’t get into trouble, charmed everyone he met. My parents worshipped the ground he walked on.”

  “How old were you when he died?”

  “Eight. He was sixteen.”

  “That’s a pretty big age difference.” She paused. “It makes sense that you think he was perfect. Little kids always put their older siblings on a pedestal. But your parents must be really proud of you, too. You own a successful club, you fought professionally, and probably made tons of money…”

  His chest had gone so stiff he was surprised his ribs didn’t crack when he drew a breath. “They’re not too thrilled about Sin, and they were even less thrilled about the fighting.” Before she could respond, he rapidly changed the subject. “Why isn’t your mom around, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Brett’s expression went sad. “She died of breast cancer when I was seven.”

  “Ah, shit. I’m sorry to hear that. Were you two close?”

  “Yeah. I was her little girl and she spoiled me rotten. Said I deserved it since I had to grow up surrounded by those three idiots.” Brett raised her voice as she gestured to her brothers.

 

‹ Prev