by Emily Bowie
“A little warning would have been nice!” I giggle.
“There, it’s done.”
“What’s done?”
“We’re Instagram official.”
“What?” I squeak. “I probably have one eye shut and a crooked mouth!”
He just laughs at my reaction.
“Let me see that!” I reach for his phone but he keeps it an arm’s length away. I don’t stand a chance with my short arms. In a smooth roll of the hips I am straddling him, reaching for that darn phone of his.
I am so close to reaching it; I can practically feel it against my fingertips. Just as I am about to arc my hips forward, he goes below the belt, so to speak.
Picking me up from his lap, he drops me to my back on the couch, his fingers blasting the underside of my arms, tickling me. He shows no mercy. I have no control over my body, as I flail on the couch in an attempt to escape the attack.
“Give up?” he asks as I try to squirm away from his touch.
“Never!” I never lose; I can’t allow it. Just when he thinks he has me, I play even dirtier than he does. His face is a mere inch from mine. I go in for the kill. My lips crush his and my arms loop around his neck, pulling him in closer.
He immediately stops tickling me and shifts his arms under my ass, pulling me up so that our bodies are even on the couch. He rests one hand on my bare midriff, where my shirt rose up during our small war.
His tongue delves in my mouth, making me forget all thoughts. I can hear his phone drop from his hand onto the floor by the couch.
Trying to take control of the moment, I manage to roll us so that I am back straddling him as I lean my body down on his, continuing our kiss. The kiss goes on forever. His hands delicately go up and down my back underneath my shirt. I can feel the hard-on in his pants as I press down on him, deepening the kiss.
Then my brain starts working. What am I doing? I’m not this girl. Or could I be? Before I have a chance to fully think this through, I swoop down and pick up his phone as I run to the back of the couch, earning me precious moments to open up his Instagram account.
The picture is all right, not as horrible as I envisioned. But it’s the caption that catches my heart.
I’m crazy for a little bit of Country.
“This is not over, baby.” He has a gleam in his eyes, full of desire and mischief as he starts stalking me around the couch.
“If you want it, just come and get it,” I mock, sounding way too seductive for my own ears.
His phone buzzes in my hands just then. Giving him a winning smirk, I slowly lift my finger, bringing it down to press on the message. The image I see burns my eyes. Seeing Brody’s name on the screen I thought I might see some brotherly banter, giving me more insight to the Bennett brothers. This was not the insight I ever wanted or imagined I’d see and I practically throw his phone at him. Shock sets in before my uncontrollable laughter washes over me. I am talking about belly hurting laughing. Oh my, did this just happen?
Tyson looks at me like I’ve lost my mind as he retrieves his phone that landed on the floor.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I warn him between the gasps of air I manage through my giggle fest.
Just as he’s picking up his phone, I can no longer keep my curiosity at bay. “What is Brody doing sending you a dick pic?”
His eyes go wide before checking his phone. Tyson groans, not sure if it’s due to embarrassment or disbelief.
“He does say he only has access to the Internet for a few short minutes. Should I text him back saying he sent this to the wrong person?” He shakes his head like he is trying to get the image erased from his mind.
I think about it. “Nah, well if you do, maybe tell him to add a can of Coke by it for size verification. Never know, he could have Photoshopped that thing.”
He has that predatory glean in his eyes as he tosses his phone in his back pocket.
“I think it’s time I erase that image of my brother from you.”
“Oh do you?” I sway my hips back and forth, debating what direction to run.
“You can run but you can’t hide,” he playfully taunts me. My smile spreads across my face, I enjoy the butterflies he stirs up inside me.
Seeing him jump over my couch, I try to turn away to run but he’s too fast. Within seconds I’m thrown over his shoulder.
“You have been a bad girl.” His arm rubs up my leg, and I wonder what his plan is.
“What do you plan on doing about it?” I can’t believe I am being so brave; Tyson seems to pull another side out of me.
“What would you like me to do about it?”
I try to wiggle free, not knowing what else to say. Flirting like this has never been my forte. I freeze and trip over my tongue, not knowing how to respond. I feel like I only have maybe three sexy lines.
I can tell he has changed directions and we are headed back to the couch. Why can’t I think of something naughty and flirty to say?
He tosses me back on the couch before he crawls over to straddle my legs, caging me in.
“No sassy comeback?” he sexily mocks me. Being under his glare is doing something crazy to my insides.
“I wouldn’t want to make it too easy on you, now would I?” I fake my confidence, not allowing my eyes to leave his, but my breath hitches, giving me away.
“Oh, Country, easy would not be the term I would use for you.”
We are not going there right now, are we? My eyes widen, not needing a conversation about what is happening right now.
“Confident and sexy, yes. But I would never expect you to make it easy for me. That’s why I like you.”
His lips are so close to mine, I want to kiss him, why isn’t he taking my lips. He’s killing me right now.
His arm slides down the side of my body, leaving my skin awakening under his touch. I have never been so thankful for my shirt to ride up; I want this too much. He fiddles with its hem, waiting for what seems like my permission. I’m not slapping it away, so that’s me saying yes. Just as I am no longer able to take the suspense, his lips crush against mine, rough and hard. A girly moan leaves me when I feel his hips press against me. There is no question that he is into this moment. I want to explore his muscular back, making my way around to feel his whole package. Almost like a test drive, to see if I like this model. Who am I kidding, I can feel that it would be the best model I’ve ever had. It’s me being greedy, wanting to feel him in my hands.
His fingers knead my breasts through my bra, trying to get at my nipples. My hands have still not moved from his neck. He feels amazing; it’s hard to think when he is touching me like this. It’s been a long time since I have been touched this way.
His lips begin to trail down my neck, just as my hands being to move. They slide down his back, cupping around his rock-hard ass. My breathing has become labored as I feel his hips taunting my core.
My hands keep on their tour until I find this hard dick pressed against his jeans. I let my fingers glide down the length and back up before I allow my palm to rub him. He can’t help but sigh into my hand as he pushes harder.
Grabbing my shirt, he practically tears it up and over my head, with me barely moving forward to remove it. Then does the same with his, throwing it on the floor where it’s quickly forgotten, as his lips find mine again, my hand still enjoying the feeling of him.
Finding my pants button, Tyson beats me to it, just as I hear a voice echoing in my tiny home. “Just forgot my wallet.” A squeal follows almost instantly.
“Mandy, what’s wrong?” Kent follows my roommate in, both of them shell-shocked and standing like statues while looking at us.
Frick.
Tyson leans over to grab my shirt, throwing it at me, all the while looking like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Mandy is now grinning at us; not at all ashamed that she just walked in on us. Kent is slowly trying to back away, tugging on Mandy’s arm.
“I have to go anyway, I have a m
eeting,” Tyson says while throwing his shirt over his head.
“No need. We’re leaving.” Kent is now pulling Mandy out of the house, while she is trying to keep her giggles from escaping her.
Tyson nearly plows them over as he runs out of my living room and out the front door.
Well so much for Tyson and my date, if you can call this a date I guess. Story of my life.
Mandy mouths sorry to me as she watches Tyson run out of my house, shoes in hand. He was so intent on leaving he went shoeless. That’s a first for me.
I just shrug, like I’m not fazed by it.
“So you want to go for a drink with us?” She drawls out the first few words as she looks from me and back to where Tyson disappeared.
“I guess so, since your stench caused him to run away,” I joke, trying to deflect how I feel at this moment.
Kent lifts his arms, smelling under them, humoring me. Shaking his head, he then bends down to smell Mandy. “Yep, it’s her!” he jokes. She laughs alongside him while giving him a pitiful slap.
Chapter 7
TYSON
I start up my Harley, wishing I felt more badass than I do right now. Yes, I got spooked then ran off like a little girl. What the fuck is wrong with me? Girls drop their panties and I deliver. It’s what I’m good at. I wasn’t lying when I said I have a meeting. I just planned on skipping it, purposely defying my father. Fuck, now I’m playing right into his hand like I always do.
*
Stepping into the romantic lounge, which is dimly light only by the flames of the many fireplaces that adorn the walls, I see William, Mr. Lewis, and Andrea. A heaviness settles on my shoulders upon seeing Andrea. She is the first one to spot me and waves me down, smiling. Something is off. Andrea, and other women in general, are not associated with this type of meeting. Why is she here? I’m in a sour mood and, further not helping matters, my balls have been aching since I left Jewels. Fucking blue balls. I’m pretty sure this is the first and better be the last time of ever having them. Fuck they hurt.
I fall down beside Andrea, only because it is the only available seat. Her hand instantly goes to my thigh, and I can tell she can feel my semi-hard dick. Not what I need right now.
As inconspicuously as I can, I remove her hand by swatting it away and relay pleasantries to my seniors. Respect needs to be shown to your elders. My half smile is forced.
“You’re late.” My father acknowledges me, as I try to wave a waitress down for a drink. His look right now tells me he does not approve. I shrug, showing him that I don’t care.
“I thought this was some kind of important meeting?” I scowl, my eyes motioning to Andrea then back to the two older men.
“Stop acting like a spoiled brat and start behaving like a man.” William’s voice is hard; telling me this is my only warning. He’s not my father in situations like this; he is my boss.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I clench my jaw to refrain from saying something I shouldn’t while I assess the situation. I try to rein in my temper by taking a deep breath and trying to order my bourbon again.
“Let me rephrase that. What do we gentlemen owe the pleasure of Andrea gracing us with her presence?” I force a smile.
“I’m glad you asked,” Mr. Lewis answers, cutting through the static between William and me. I can see Andrea sit up a little straighter, with a stupid, smug grin on her face. Here we go.
“Andrea is going to be initiated into our little society. This is a huge honor for her, as she will be the first female ever initiated.”
It’s a brotherhood for a reason, the name says it all. No girls allowed. Breaking tradition never leads to anything good.
“It was discussed that you will help her through this initiation since the two of you are close.”
I scoff in disbelief; a humorless laugh escapes me as I shake my head. “I have never heard of anyone having help with their initiation before,” I challenge.
“That is because no one has ever been trusted to pull off such a big challenge before,” William pushes back, his eyes hard over the lack of obedience I am showing.
“So what are we proposing here?”
“Just a little bit of persuasion of the right kind.”
Blackmail. I wish I could say it was below me, but it’s not. Hell, I was going to blackmail Jewels less than a week ago just to hang out with me.
Blackmail is like taking candy from a baby. I don’t have to know too much to know I’ll be good at this. I’m an expert hacker. My dad’s company pays me to ensure their systems are completely secure and unable to be hacked, as well as to find the right pieces of information—off the books—that they might need. It’s amazing what one can find. Who needs to talk to scorned lovers when everyone has a computer? Now for the good stuff. The stuff I enjoy. Who will be getting my full attention? I almost want to press my fingertips together like Mr. Burns on the Simpsons. It seems fitting for a moment like this.
“Who is it?” I ask, not being able to help myself in showing my enthusiasm.
“Clay Cannon,” my father says, his face showing me that he is pleased with my reaction and behavior now.
I know he is in politics, against our shoo-in Richard McKinley. But that’s about it. The gears in my brain are already working overtime in how to research the real him. Not the face he shows his fellow Americans who support him, but his real, dark side.
*
My phone on the table begins to vibrate. I contemplate leaving it, not wanting to incur the wrath of my father again. Fuck it. Turning it over, I see Jewels’s number pop up. Not the call I want to answer but I’ve already committed to it by my turning my phone over.
“Excuse me.” I stand up, walking away before answering.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Tyson, it’s me, Jewels.” Her voice sounds unsure. “I’m sorry to call you, but…” Her voice trails off and I can hear her huff out a breath. “Look, this is embarrassing to admit, and other than Mandy and Kent you’re the only person I really know around here, and I know Mandy will never let me live this down. I can’t believe I just did this.”
It all gushes out, not really making any sense, and I begin to worry. Where is she? And what has she done to be so nervous? Fuck, I hate that I ran out of her house tonight. I should have stayed and acted like a man, as William put it.
“Are you okay?” I ask, worried, my thoughts going through every type of possible situation.
“I just left Mandy and Kent after having a drink with them, and well…”
“Did someone hurt you?” Because I’ll kill the son of a bitch.
“Don’t laugh when I tell you.” The pleading in her voice is unmistakable.
“I promise.” What type of asshole does she take me for?
“I just ran out of gas in the middle of an intersection. I thought I had enough to make it to the gas station.”
“Are you still in your car?”
“Yes.”
“Put on your four-ways and when it’s safe get out of your car,” I direct her, trying to take control of the situation.
“Where are my four-ways?”
Everyone should know this, especially her.
“Country, you lived on a ranch and you don’t know this?” I can’t help but mock her a little.
She groans into the phone and I decide to quit teasing her.
“Typically they are at the bottom of your dash, bright orange or red triangles.”
“Of course I know where they are, Tyson, I lived on a ranch. I was just making sure I called the right man to help, that’s all.”
I pause, not sure if I believe her or not.
“Of course I put them on right away.”
I feel slightly more relieved knowing they are on, hopefully saving her from someone rear-ending her.
“Good, now I’ll stay on the phone until you’re safe on the sidewalk.” I can hear her door shut and wind go into the phone, telling me that she is out of the car.
“I just need to
finish this meeting up and I should be able to leave in ten minutes.” I look back at the table, knowing how to get this meeting wrapped up.
“Oh thank you!” I can hear the relief pouring out of her.
“I’m going to go into a restaurant and wait. People are already honking and yelling at my car. I don’t want them to know it’s mine.”
I can’t help but let out a muffled laugh. She is too funny, this girl.
“Good, have a drink to relax. I’ll call you in ten for directions.”
I head back to my table, deciding how to word everything to cut this meeting short.
I stop short of the table, seeing that our fathers left in my absence. “Sorry.” I slide back in, and I want to ask where they went but the less time I waste with her the better.
“Is everything okay, you look worried?” She presses her body into me, placing her hand on my leg again.
“I have to go, but I’ll call you tomorrow and we will deal with this together.” This will give me more time to assess who we are dealing with and gets me out of her reach.
“Tyson?” A small voice that sounds oddly like Jewels’s is beside me. “So much for the business meeting. You could have just told me you double-booked yourself. I was perfectly fine with not hanging out with you.” She turns on her heels to leave.
Fuck, worst possible moment ever.
I push myself out of Andrea’s grasp, chasing down Jewels. “Wait up, let me explain.”
She just keeps walking, going straight out of the building. Her hair is now in a high ponytail, the tendrils around her face flapping around from the windy night. I hear a few curses coming from the direction of the intersection and notice her small car there.
“We should push your car out of the way,” I say mostly to myself. I debate whether to call my brother Chase to do it. He could bring some gas for it as well.
Marching on the sidewalk, a good five paces ahead of me, she passes a cluster of small shops and restaurants before reaching a parking lot.
As she nears the end of the pavement, she quickly turns on me, throwing her hands up in the air. Her eyes narrow in anger. Those ocean blue eyes look stormy and dark, and her lips are pressed together. This Jewels is fucking sexy as hell. The confidence, the who-gives-a-fuck attitude, the I-don’t-care-that-you’re-Tyson-fucking-Bennett stare down.