Cooper Construction Series Box Set

by Jen Davis

  Her eyes flared as her gaze skittered across his bare chest. Thank God. She wanted him too.

  He ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “I want to finish what we started, but I want to do it right.” Trailing his hand down to her collarbone, he rubbed across it, and her nipples pebbled in response.

  Grasping his hand as gently as she could, she pulled it toward her and kissed the pad of each finger. “We have all the time in the world. I can be patient.”

  “Or.” He licked his lips. “You could let me take the edge off.” Without waiting for a response, he leaned in for a kiss.

  She shivered beneath him as he licked over her bottom lip, then bit it gently.

  “Let’s go back to your bed.”

  Liv led him to her private space, the need he saw in her eyes during the shower glowing brighter than ever.

  “I want to see you. Show me your body. Let me worship you.” She deserved so much more than a wreck like him, but this was something he could do. He could serve her like the goddess she was.

  Her eyes closed as she tugged her T-shirt over her head. Her full breasts called out to be touched. If only his fucking hands would work.

  “Shorts too,” he growled. “Then get on the bed.” His cock was already waking again despite the pleasure it had just spent.

  Pushing them down slowly, Olivia revealed the heaven he’d only dreamt of. Fully nude, she was perfection. Freckles dotted her pale shoulders, but the rest of her skin was a sea of peaches and cream. She stepped backward toward the bed, then lay down, waiting for him to give her what she so clearly craved.

  His hungry gaze locked between her legs. The thin strip of blond hair covering her mound ended at the top of her slit. Beneath, she was totally bare. Her pussy was already wet and gleaming, the moisture seeping down to the sheets below.

  He couldn’t wait another second. He needed to taste her, to drive her crazy with the same pleasure she’d given him.

  Climbing onto the bed, he positioned himself between her legs, his face, a fraction of an inch from the place he craved most. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his breath hot on her private flesh.

  Her pussy clenched.

  “So pink.” He ran his thumb up her slit. “So smooth.”

  She squirmed beneath his touch.

  He chuckled. “And so impatient.” Using both thumbs, he spread her lips apart and slipped his tongue between her folds. He wanted to make his movements slow and teasing, but her taste drove him wild. He speared his tongue inside her, the way he wanted to thrust inside her with his cock.

  But this wasn’t about him. It was about her. Forcing himself to slow, he lapped at her wetness, reveling at the tiny noises escaping the back of her throat.

  He raised his head, his thumb rubbing slowly over her clit. “Tell me what you want.”

  She groaned. “I want you. I want everything.”

  Everything. He wanted it too. Her words made his heart race, but he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement, fear, or some combination of the two.

  Ignoring the ache in his hands, he lifted her ass off the bed. His tongue swept over her asshole. Circled it. Then dove back into her wet heat. He fucked her with his mouth. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

  “Touch yourself, Livie. My hands don’t work, but yours do. Make yourself come while I taste you.”

  Her hand shot straight to her center, separating her folds, finding the treasure within.

  He didn’t move for a few seconds. His eyes locked on the movement of her fingers. How they disappeared inside her to emerge covered in her own silky essence, then rose to the hidden pearl above.

  His head dropped between her thighs again, and his lips brushed her skin as he spoke. “Ride my tongue, baby. You’re not going to hurt me.”

  Her knees fell open as his tongue speared deep. She quickly found her rhythm, her middle and index fingers circling her clit, while her hips rose and fell with each stroke. She did as he instructed, meeting each thrust of his tongue with abandon.

  No one had ever made him burn this way before. There was nothing else in the world but this woman and the orgasm building between her legs.

  When the rising tide broke, she cried out his name, her muscles locking in place.

  He stayed motionless until the last shudder went through her body, then he climbed back to the top of the bed and opened his arms for her to collapse inside.

  Everything about the moment felt right. She was spent and satisfied…and he was responsible. Now he had her in his arms.

  They were together in her bed.

  If only they could stay this way forever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Brick

  The last thing Brick wanted to do was leave Olivia’s side, but he could only escape his real life for so long before it would seek him out. Better if he faced it head on—and he would in a few more minutes. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if he let himself revel in this perfect moment.

  Would it?

  He’d thought falling asleep with her was extraordinary, but waking up with her was every bit as precious. Now she lay here next to him naked with perfect trust.

  When had anyone ever trusted him?

  The responsibility was staggering. It was foreign, a gift.

  Eventually, he pulled on his jeans, fumbling awkwardly with the zipper, then tugged on his t-shirt. It occurred to him quickly he had no shoes, no truck, and no wallet to get himself home.

  Fuck.

  It would take at least an hour to walk to his place, and doing it barefoot would destroy his feet. Shame tainted the amazing morning he’d had as he returned to Olivia’s bedroom to wake her up. “Livie?”

  “Mmmm,” she hummed and turned toward his voice. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled at his ugly face. “Morning, baby.” Her lower lip stuck out as she took in his fully dressed state. “You’re leaving?”

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “I have to. Or they’ll start looking for me.”

  Her teasing pout turned into a real frown.

  He cleared his throat. “I don’t have a way to get home, though. I hate to ask, believe me, but do you think your brother would give me a ride?”

  “Are you kidding? You want to explain to Will you spent the night, or should I?” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Grab my purse off the kitchen counter.”

  “No way. I’m not taking your money.”

  She climbed out of bed without a hint of modesty and swiped her purse from the kitchen. She fished out a twenty-dollar bill and folded it into his hand. “I don’t care about the money, Jonathan. There’s plenty of other stuff to worry about.” She sighed. “I hate the idea of you going back there.”

  His heart warmed at her concern. “I’ll be okay. But I’m going to pay you back.” He kissed her forehead, then ordered his ride. “Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

  With gentle fingers, she lifted his fucked-up hand to her lips and feathered it with kisses. “You never have to thank me. I’m glad Kane had the sense to call me when he found you. He is the one we should both be thanking.”

  “Trust me. I will. But Liv, this is important, we’re lucky he was the person who tracked you down. If you ever get a call from a number you don’t know, don’t answer it.”

  “But he called me from your phone.”

  He shook his head. “From now on, when I call, wait for me to talk first, okay? If it had been anyone else on the other end of the line, I don’t want to even think about what could have happened.” The horn honked outside, and he drew to his feet.

  Liv kissed his cheek as he headed for the car. He really did owe Kane for looking out for him. It seemed he didn’t only have one person who cared about him, but two.

  At least he didn’t have to worry his screwed-up life would be a threat to Kane Hale. That motherfucker could take care of himself.

  ***

  The driver dropped Brick at the gym, where Freddy had set aside his forgotten shoes and keys.

&nbs
p; “Where you been, man? Rumor mill’s been churning ‘bout you wiping out in the middle of the street. You all right?” Freddy wasn’t a bad guy, but you couldn’t find a bigger gossip around. If you wanted a story to spread, he was the guy to tell.

  He spread his arms wide. “It would take more than what Antonio Reyes could dish out to put me down. I was the one who won the fight last night.”

  The old man lifted his cap to rub over the top of his bald head. “You don’t have to tell me. I watched them carry his sorry ass out of here last night on a stretcher. At least you walked out on your own two feet.”

  Yes, Freddy. Build me up.

  “Damn right I did. Might’ve had a bit too much to drink. Made me a little sloppy, but hey, lesson learned, you know?”

  “I figured it had to be something along those lines, Brick. Nothing else makes any sense,” Freddy agreed, buying in deeper to the story with every word. “So where did you get to after the fight?”

  “Buddy of mine showed up. Maybe you saw him. A biker dude.” He paused while Freddy nodded eagerly. “He picked me up. Took me out.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Between you and me, I barely remember what I did last night. I only remember waking up wearing nothing but a smile…and finding a pink pair of panties on the floor.”

  Freddy whooped. “Nights like those were the best ones of my youth. Enjoy ’em while you can, Brick. Enjoy ’em while you can.”

  He chuckled. “Fucking right, my man. Now, I’d better get my ass home for a shower. I smell like day-old pussy. Did you save my shoes for me?” He gestured to his bare feet and Freddy scurried to his office.

  Handing over the shoes, Freddy patted him on the back. “You’re a lucky bastard.”

  He smiled and turned for the door.

  “Hey, Brick?” He stopped. “Lay off the booze before the match next time. You don’t want folks to get the wrong idea.”

  He lifted his hand in a wave as he made his way out into the street.

  Mission accomplished.

  He texted Liv.

  Brick: Made it home. Will call you later.

  Fishing his keys out of his left shoe, he looped the keyring on his pinkie until he strode up to his apartment. He held his head high and his shoulders, back. There was no room to show weakness. No letting his guard down until he could close the door behind him.

  As he jammed his key in the lock, he could already hear the theme song from The Golden Girls coming from his neighbor’s TV. The guy watched TV Land every weekend. The walls were thin, but he could ignore the noise. He just wanted to collapse in his well-worn recliner.

  Only, someone else already sat there. “Sucre.” Fear skittered up his spine. Forcing himself to appear unconcerned, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and glanced at the screen. “Were you trying to reach me?”

  His boss wore his shiny green suit, one ankle resting on the opposite knee. He looked like a Mexican Wizard of Oz. “Word on the street said you disappeared last night. You didn’t come home. But you didn’t make a run for it.” He lifted the black ornamental cane with the silver handle he had leaning against the chair and tapped the hollow leg of the table. “I knew because you left your precious stash of money here.”

  He choked back the wave of nausea churning with what Sucre’s words revealed. Where had he gone wrong? He’d been so careful. Canned laughter from his neighbor’s TV show filled the short silence.

  “Didn’t think I knew about the money, did you?” The bastard shot him an evil grin. “There’s not much I don’t know about you. I’m a businessman, and you are my business. So, satisfy my curiosity. Where were you last night?”

  Fuck.

  Bullshitting Freddy was one thing. He thought he’d have more time before he’d have to face Sucre. “A friend of mine from my day job picked me up after the fight.”

  His boss steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “The long-haired man with the beard.”

  He prayed it would be the end of the conversation, but he knew Sucre better.

  “Are you fucking him?”

  For a second, he couldn’t even respond. The question stunned him. “Sir?”

  “Are you. Fucking. That biker?”

  “No, sir.”

  Sucre dropped his hands to his lap and began rubbing them together. “I ask because I don’t see you taking advantage of any of our local merchandise. No girls.” He raised his eyebrows. “No boys. I figure you’ve got a side-piece somewhere nobody knows about. A special someone.”

  It took everything he had to hold a neutral expression on his face. “No special someone.”

  “Excellent. Then, I have a little surprise for you.” Sucre snapped his fingers and three nude women walked out of his bathroom. They must have been waiting for the signal. A blonde, a brunette, and a red-head. Of course. “You worked hard for me last night. Let me show you my appreciation.” He gestured to the women. “Pick one.”

  It wasn’t a question. A hundred denials ran through his mind. None of them would hold water with Sucre. The man was trying to prove something. If he turned down the offer, it meant he had something to hide. Once Sucre caught wind of a secret, he would be a dog with a bone until he uncovered it.

  The laugh track from next door felt like fate crowing at his misery.

  He pointed to one of the girls without even looking. “Her. Thanks, boss.” The woman stepped forward, and he started leading her toward the bedroom. Hopefully, he could figure out a way to buy her silence.

  “Ah. Ah. Ah. Now you wouldn’t rob me of the chance to watch you unwrap your present. You can fuck her right here on the couch, no?”

  He couldn’t have sex with another woman.

  He couldn’t.

  Turning down this gift, however, practically shined a spotlight on Olivia. Sucre might not find her today, or even tomorrow, but he wouldn’t stop until he figured out who had stolen his heart. He’d be putting a loaded gun to her head for the rest of her life.

  The girl he’d selected, who he could see now was a buxom brunette with bright red lipstick, rubbed against him. “Maybe just a little blow-job, Papi?”

  His hands moved to his belt, but he froze as bile churned in his stomach. Sucre had broken him in a hundred different ways over the years. Some were big, like the times he’d fucked him to prove he could. Others were subtle—or at least as subtle as Sucre could be—like when the doctors “couldn’t find” his grandma for a couple of hours last year after he’d disagreed with Sucre over how many fingers needed breaking on Paul Franco’s left hand.

  But this? This was, perhaps, the worst cruelty of all.

  He finally had something good in his life. Someone who cared about him. Someone who someday might even love him.

  And Sucre was forcing him to destroy it.

  “No,” he murmured.

  “What did you say?” Sucre narrowed his eyes.

  “I don’t want a blow job. I don’t want a girl. I want to go to sleep.”

  Sucre grabbed the brunette by her upper arm and jerked her back. “Get out,” he hissed. All three women grabbed the clothes piled on the sofa and scrambled out the door. The moment it slammed shut, the boss turned all his venom on him. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Un pinche idiota?” Spittle flew from his lips with the force of his words.

  “No, sir.” He kept his voice calm and even.

  Sucre slammed his walking stick into the old mug Brick had left on the coffee table the day before. It bounced onto the carpet, the handle snapping off in the process. In stages, he drew his rage inward until his face was once again a placid mask. “Give me your phone.”

  On instinct, he did as Sucre commanded. Only then, did he question what might be there for the man to find.

  His boss clenched his teeth as he swiped through the screens.

  No GPS. No contacts. He’d cleared the call history—

  A satisfied smile lit Sucre’s face. “Tell me, Brick, who exactly did you text when you got home?”

  Fuck. Why
hadn’t he erased it the second after he sent it?

  He couldn’t think. His ears locked in on the commercial playing the familiar Andy Griffith whistle. None of this felt real. It was some kind of fucked-up nightmare.

  Only it wasn’t.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Sucre tutted. “Why don’t we call and find out?”

  Before his words could sink in, Sucre had connected the call, and turned on the speaker.

  Please don’t answer. Please don’t answer. Let it go to—shit—not voicemail.

  The phone stopped ringing, but thank fuck, Liv stayed silent.

  “Don’t you want to say hello, Dove?” Sucre’s voice came out syrupy sweet, but his face contorted when Olivia refused to take the bait. He shoved the phone into his pocket. “No me importa. You think you’re so smart. Let’s see what your lover thinks of the real you.” He spun on his heel, then smirked over his shoulder. “It always pays to have insurance, Brick.”

  Abruptly, the TV turned off next door as the slam of his front door echoed in the small living room.

  When had he heard Sucre say those words before?

  Oh fuck.

  He had to get back to Liv’s place before Sucre made his move.

  ***

  Liv

  Liv trembled as she disconnected the call. She had no doubt one of Jonathan’s associates had just tried to figure out who she was.

  Could he trace her through her phone? Should she get out of the apartment?

  She forced her labored breathing to slow. Panic wouldn’t help anything.

  It hadn’t been Tre. She would have known his voice anywhere. And even if Sucre himself had been on the other end of the line, and he was trying to figure out who she was, she hadn’t taken the bait. He couldn’t identify her, and more importantly, he couldn’t find her.

  Still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep a knife from the kitchen next to her on the sofa.