NIX (Daring the Kane Brothers)

by Kelly Gendron

  “Ah.” He settles back against the barstool, the slight movement drawing my eyes back to him. The way he looks at me, it’s as if he knows what’s going on in my head. As if he’s on to me. The problem being, I’m not sure what I want … at least, what I want from him.

  “You’ve never been in love?” His face remains lit with knowledge and a hint of uncertainty.

  “I didn’t say that.” I take another sip of my gin, not backing down from his intrusive gaze.

  The corners of his eyes squeeze together, and a small smile quirks his lips. “And here you were worried that, ah, what was it you said? I’d fall madly in love with you? I think it may be the other way around.”

  “I can assure you that will not happen.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m not available.”

  He stares at me for a few seconds. “Are you married?”

  “No.”

  His head tilts. “Engaged?”

  “No.”

  He picks up his beer. “Then I’m sorry, sweetheart, but without those two elements, you are very available to fall in love. And when your person does come along, nothing will stop it.” He takes a swig of his beer, his eyes veering to the left.

  “Are you insinuating you’re my person?”

  Nearly spewing his beer all over the place, he sits up straight. “Hell no!” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, leaning again toward me. “I’m just stating a fact.”

  “And you know this fact because you’ve been in love?” I set my forearms on the table.

  He looks down at his empty beer for a few seconds. “You want another?” He points with his bottle at my glass.

  “Please.” I hold my grin, allowing him to float away from the waves I’ve caused.

  After he gets another round, he comes back to the table and strikes up a new conversation. One that deviates from love. “So you met Harley at Token’s gym?”

  “Yes. I go every Monday and Thursday for the self-defense classes your brother has there.”

  “Really? I didn’t know he did that. Good for him.” He lifts his beer in cheer.

  I follow suit, taking a sip of my drink. The conversation continues, but we keep it formal and don’t ask anything too personal. But the way he looks at me, the way his eyes stroke my body, there is no mistaking that this is getting personal. Without even touching me, he’s managed to make the past two hours intimate as if we are the only two people in the room. Damn, I couldn’t imagine what sex would be like with this man. I don’t think my body could take it. From the moment I laid my eyes on him, I’ve wanted him. Not to mention the constant ache throbbing deep inside, begging for relief. What scares me the most is I feel like I’d do anything to make it stop.

  He walks me to my car. I click the door open and turn around to find him standing right behind me. His scent, enhanced by the night’s dark atmosphere, slithers into me, bold and intense, like the shine in his eyes brightened by the moonlight.

  He leans against my car, his eyes taking their time as they lower to my mouth. “Would you like me to kiss you again?”

  Yes. No! Don’t say that! Keep your cool!

  I rest against the side of my car across from his persuasive smile. “I prefer the element of surprise.”

  “Really?” His husky voice hums, the sound resembling what I’d like to hear while lying naked beside him in bed. “Not me. I like the slow build.” He slides his fingers down a few strands of my hair. “Knowing I’m getting closer and closer to what I want.” His eyes flash to mine. “See, I don’t like to go too fast.” His fingers slide from my hair, knuckles barely brushing the slope of my breast. “I wouldn’t want to miss anything.” His finger slows as it reaches my hard nipple. Damn, I should’ve worn a padded bra! I can feel him straight to my dimpled flesh. “Wouldn’t want to miss a single response.” He rubs again against my erect bud. “Not the slightest touch.” He bends until our lips are nearly touching. “Or a single taste.” He leans to the left and whispers into my ear, “Or a distinctive sound. Sometimes, I think those are the best, soft and low, a true testament to our other senses.” He pauses long enough to spread my inhibitions away, filling me between the legs with wet, warm anticipation. He slowly circles back to my mouth. “Ya know?” The warm and husky words bathe my trembling lips.

  Oh, shit! Am I supposed to respond? I think I am. “Yes.” Heart racing, I can’t stop my body from gyrating closer to his. Heat assembles everywhere inside me, and it radiates from him. The desire to kiss him consumes me. However, I came prepared. So, I smile slowly. “What I’d really like is for you to take me home and take your time. Ya know, to go slow.” I lay my hand on his pectoral muscle. It ripples beneath my touch as he gently presses against my palm. “But that’s probably not a good idea, considering you’re more into the anticipation of things. I wouldn’t want you to miss anything.” I wrinkle my nose. “Ya know, like a single sound or the slightest touch.”

  “That’s right. Now you’re getting it.” He wraps an arm around me, spins my body, and pins me to the car. “Oh-ho, I’m going to take my time with you, Payton Tucker.” His pelvis presses into mine. “And believe me, by the time you’ve exhausted all expectation of what I’m going to do next, how far I’m willing to go to get what I want, and how it’s going to make you feel, you’ll forget about the element of surprise.” His mouth lowers to mine. “Now, before you kiss me good night, promise you’ll see me again.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  While Payton left me with a kiss full of promise, she failed to make any promises to see me again the other night. So, of course, when the opportunity arose, I decide to take matters into my more than capable hands.

  I walk into the theater a few minutes early to pick up Becca from Harley’s care and head straight for Payton’s office. Sitting in the dim lit room at her desk, she’s more tempting than I remember. I watch her for a few seconds, honey brown hair toppled messily upon her head, blouse unbuttoned just enough to reveal less than an inch of her enticing cleavage, and lips relaxed, looking ripe and ready to be plucked by my teeth.

  Fuck, for the past few days, when the noise disappeared and the darkness filled my bedroom, I’d find my palm wrapped around my cock, thinking about her. That hasn’t happened in a while. Like my laptop’s cookies, my brain clears a woman out right away. Rarely do I leave them in my head for later use. But for some reason, I can’t seem to dump the file in my head for this woman in the trash can. There’s something about her that reaches deep inside and refuses to be let go.

  Man, I better keep her away from Becca. I don’t need her casting a spell on my daughter as she has me. Besides, I don’t want to give Becca a reason to think Payton is girlfriend material … considering she probably is. Not only do I want to fuck her, but I can’t wait to hear what comes out of her saucy mouth when she opens it. I want to know her favorite music, does she like mushrooms on her pizza, has she binge-watched “Breaking Bad” yet. Is she a morning person or a night owl, and does she wear socks to bed? Lexi did. Like Payton, her feet were always cold.

  Her eyes flash to me, lips playing a little game of tug-of-war. “I told you,” she says, her cute, smarty-pants grin thinning in preparation to take a long slow sip of her coffee.

  Damn. I want her. “Yeah, ya did.” I smile, not sure what she’s talking about, but figure, like a bed, we’ll get there together soon enough.

  “But you refused to listen.” She tsks. Calm and slow with precise control, she sets her mug back on the desk. An image of the way she’d handle my cock takes a long invisible stroke down my solidifying shaft. “Typical male.” She shakes her head as if she knows what’s going on down below.

  “Hey, now. You take that back.” I stop long enough to maintain her full attention on my eyes and not my tall tale-telling crotch. Either way, it feels good to have her eyes settled on me. “I’m anything but typical.”

  “Really?” A challenging left eyebrow rises.

  “Yes.” I rest against the doorjam
b and shove my fingers into the front pocket of my jeans. Dammit, the motion draws her eyes back to my dick. “Tell me,” I urge, and she obeys. Long lashes lift until her gaze finds my face. “What other guy do you know who can cook a three-course meal and bake a batch of ice-cream-cone cupcakes, the colored ones, while doing a load of laundry, so he can later participate in a karaoke concert? With a light show, I might add.”

  “Oh-ho …” Her lip quirks. “A light show?”

  A smile pulls hard on my mouth as I respond, “Becca’s Uncle Stone plays in a band. I took her to one of his outside gigs, and she loved it. I’m not sure if she was more excited by the light show or that she was up past nine o’clock.” I shrug. “Nonetheless, for her fifth birthday, I got her a karaoke machine and one of those disco balls. It works surprisingly good.”

  She studies me for a long moment, then clasps her hands together and rests them on the desk. “Now, that’s something I’d love to see.”

  “Ah ...” I drop my eyes to her lips and rub my chin. “Maybe now you’re having second thoughts about not makin’ that promise to see me again when I asked the other night.”

  “No.” She wags a finger at me. “See, I tried to warn you about this.”

  I squint at her as a smile struggles to stay alive beneath my confusion.

  “When we first met,” she cues, but the blank expression on my face must be pushing through my smile. “I told you, you’d think about me until you convinced yourself that you needed to see me again.”

  “Oh that, yeah.” I nod. “You’re right. I paid no heed to your warning. My brain doesn’t work that way. Just ’cause someone says it’s so doesn’t mean it is.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  “You didn’t let me finish.”

  “I’m sorry.” She grins, pressing her lips together. She has more to say, but I can tell she’s having fun with our conversation. That’s one of the reasons I’m drawn to her. She’s cool like that, doesn’t take things too seriously.

  “I’m here to pick up Becca, and I needed proof.”

  “Proof of what?” Her button nose scrunches, eyes brightening.

  “That I wasn’t imagining it the last time I saw you, and now that I am here, I can confirm it’s true.”

  “That I was right? That you had to see me one more time?” She arches her thin brows, obviously pleased with herself.

  “No.” I do a quick scan of her mouth. “That you are as beautiful as I remember the other day.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks pinken. “You’re good.”

  “Yes.” I let my eyes do a slow stroll over her upper body. “I’m good at many things.”

  “Like …?” she challenges as the palm of her hands slowly run up and down the coffee mug in front of her. My cock does this little dive as if it’s trying to knock the mug out of the way so it can take its place. “Making websites?”

  “Yes, there’s that.” I blink to her smiling eyes. “Why, do you need some computer programming work done? If so, I’m your man.” I lift my chin.

  “No. I’m pretty savvy with a computer.” She places her elbows on the desk, folds her hands together, and rests her chin on them. “I’m curious as to what else you might be good at.”

  “Ah.” I tap my bottom lip, gaining her complete devotion. Man, my dick likes her; never have I gotten hard from the mere tease of a woman’s words. “Do you like your back massaged?”

  “I do.” She perks up in the chair.

  “Do you prefer it on a hard table or a soft bed?”

  “Ohh,” she purrs. “Definitely a hard bed.”

  “So you like it hard?”

  “The harder, the better.”

  “You’re a naughty girl.”

  “I found it’s necessary when dealing with the likes of you.”

  “Indeed.” I let myself get a little lost in her eyes.

  “What else might you be good at?”

  “Hmm, your hair? Do you like it brushed, braided?”

  Her eyes light up again. “You know how to braid hair?”

  “Yes.” I start to count them out on my fingers. “Regular, rope twist, pull through, and French. I can do them all.” I glance at her long honey hair. “I think a rope twist braid would look good on you?”

  “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I pause to take in her stealthy expression. “I’d like to see what else you might give me.”

  “Oh!” Her voice hitches as her eyes shift downward in the area of my crotch and widen. “Hi, Becca!”

  My heart does a quick skip, and any jerk my cock might’ve been thinking about having quickly shrivels away from the presence of my child.

  Payton’s eyes flit to mine. “Your dad and I were just talking about your karaoke concerts.”

  I glance down to find my child peeking in the small space between my thigh and the doorframe. “Hey, kiddo.” I smile at her.

  “Hi!” She beams, her eyes toggling from me and my potential girlfriend. “Whatcha doin’?” She tilts her head up to confront me.

  “What are you doing?” I lower my brows.

  “I was comin’ to say goodbye to Payton, but ya know what?” She taps her tiny finger to her stubborn jutted chin.

  “What?” I press my lips together, knowing I’m not going to like her answer.

  “I think we should invite Payton over tonight.” Her green eyes twinkle with mischievous intent. “Ya know, so we can show her what a karaoke concert looks like. And isn’t it Wednesday? You know what that means?” Becca’s sly eyes slide over to Payton. “Pizza night, do you like pizza?”

  Payton looks at me, and the longer she takes to answer, the more I think she might be seeking permission.

  “Maybe she doesn’t like pizza?” I wink at Becca. “And what do we call someone who doesn't like pizza?”

  “A weirddough!” Becca giggles.

  “That’s right.” I laugh. “So what do you say, Payton? Are you a weirddough?” I tease, hoping she’s not.

  “No.” Her nostrils flare as she defeats a smile. “I’m no weirddough.” She wiggles her nose at Becca.

  “Great!” I better give the line a yank before she tries to swim away. “You good with mushrooms?” I point at the non-weirddough.

  “Love them,” she says, and this time, a smile blooms upon her edible lips.

  “Six thirty?”

  “I’ll be there.” She nods.

  “You remember where we live?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, wait!” Becca lifts a finger. “I know now! Payton Tuck-Tucker. You lost your card thing at my house.”

  “Yes.” Payton glances at me. “Small world, huh?”

  “Yeah, very small.” I place my hand on Becca’s back. “Come on, let’s go so Payton can finish her work.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I follow his body as it makes its way back to me on the sofa. It’s a dangerous sight to any warm-blooded woman. Even more so now that it’s relaxed and prowling in its own territory. Back at the theater, the muscles in his neck and his arms seemed to be bursting from across the room where I sat in the safety of my own territory. I was glad Becca showed up when she did.

  The conversation was going somewhat provocative.

  “It was a fight, but she finally surrendered.” He sits down beside me.

  Pants clinging to thick thighs and shirt unbuttoned a little, revealing sun-kissed skin, he’s a sight for hungry eyes. I move to his lightly freckled cheeks, wide pale pink lips, and slanted, sly green eyes. Oh, shit! He said something! Respond! “She’s precious, and watching the two of you sing ‘My Girl’? Oh my God!” I laugh. “It was priceless. How long did it take her to learn the words?”

  “Her?” His green eyes widen. “I had to learn them. I mean, I knew the chorus, of course, who doesn’t? But I didn’t know any of that shit like honey the bees envy me.” He half-sings the words, and one could argue his brother Stone may not be the only one with the musical gene in the family. “She wat
ched the movie at my mom’s when I was out of town for the weekend.” He takes his glasses off and sets them on the coffee table. Whenever he does that, it’s like Clark Kent getting ready to run into the phone booth and change from something safe to something dangerous. Something about it makes my pussy feel deprived as if it needs something and his name’s all over it. I’m pitiful. I haven’t been with a man in years. Well, that’s if you want to call Neal Walker a man. I don’t know what I was thinking, dating the video playing, freeloading jerk. I should’ve known when I had to pay for the first date, but I was blinded by the fact that he wasn’t only interested in getting into my pants like all the other guys.

  Nix rubs a hand over his bicep, oblivious to what the action does to me. Something about a computer geek has always turned me on. I’ve heard they’re the best in bed. They don't just learn how to do something. They master it, and I’ve always wanted to discover if the myth’s true. I’m trying, though, to behave, trying to stay focused, trying not to surrender to the need to jump on the muscle-bound nerd positioned beside me.

  “It messed her up seeing the boy die in the movie, but she couldn’t help herself, Ma said, and she watched it ten times in a row. It’s rated PG, ya know? What PG movie kills a kid in it?”

  “Death is part of life,” I reason, my wetness drying up over the present conversation while my eyes acknowledge his other strengths like the one he has for taking such good care of his daughter, which is sexier than any flexing muscles.

  “I guess.” His head bobs. “It did make her understand the meaning of death a little better. Sucks I wasn’t there for her, but the second-best person was.”

  “Your mom helps out a lot?”

  “Yeah, it’s hard trusting your kid with just anyone.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “Do you want kids?”

  “Oh.” My head jerks back. “I don’t know. Well, sure, yeah. I’m just not ready to push one out of my body yet.” Shit! Did I just say that? For real?

  My cousin Linda had a kid when she was only twenty. The guy wasn’t around. He worked at one of those carnivals that comes around once a year. I was her birthing partner, and what I saw in that delivery room, well, it’s a memory I draw from whenever there are no condoms around. Granted, I was only eighteen at the time, and Billy’s perfect, but he nearly killed my cousin coming into the world. Mom says it’s not always like that, but still, I can’t delete the memory from my head.