Hometown Troublemaker (Havenbrook Book 2)

by Brighton Walsh

  That was what she did to him. He might be helping her explore things she’d never had a chance to explore before, but he was along for the ride. Sex, he knew. Intimacy? Not so much. In the weeks since they’d started this, Rory was changing that for him.

  He had the condom out of his pocket and rolled down his length in ten seconds flat. And then she was in his arms, her legs around his waist and her arms locked around his shoulders. She met his tongue stroke for stroke as he kissed and licked and sucked, her breathy whimpers only stoking the raging fire inside him.

  She was no longer the quiet little lamb she’d been that first time. He’d coaxed the noises from her a little more each time he’d been inside her, and he hung on every single sound that came out of her mouth when they were together. Those sounds meant one thing: she was so crazed for him, she couldn’t control herself. That made two of them.

  Slipping one hand under her from behind to test her readiness, he groaned when his fingertips slid through her wetness easily. “Seems your pussy loves the idea of being fucked out here where anyone could see.”

  “Nash…”

  “What? You want me to stop talkin’ like that?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. That was as much a confirmation that she loved it as he was going to get from her. “You only say my name like that when you’re gonna yell at me or when you want me to fuck you.” He gripped his cock and ran it through her wetness. “Tell me, princess, is this pussy feelin’ needy for me?”

  She groaned, her eyes closing as she tossed her head back and gripped his shoulders tighter. Rocked her hips just so to try to pull him inside.

  “Mhmm, that’s what I thought. Greedy little thing, isn’t she?”

  Rory gasped when her ass hit the wall as he pressed her up against it, her eyes flying open to stare into his, then fluttering closed on a moan when he notched into her entrance and drove deep.

  No matter how many times he’d been inside her, it still felt like the first. Overwhelming and all-consuming, and he never, ever wanted to leave.

  “Ah, shit. There it is.” He dropped his head to her shoulder, panting through the first few moments inside her that always had him desperate to blow. “Fuck, you squeeze my cock so good.”

  He dug his fingers into her thick hips and pinned her to the wall, making sure there was near-constant friction on her clit as he pumped into her with slow, deep thrusts.

  She held him tightly, her arms wrapped around his head, her fingers locked in his hair, keeping his face buried in her neck. The move brought her lips right next to his ear, which meant he could hear every pant, every sigh, every moan that slipped from her mouth. Could also hear when she started to whisper his name over and over as her arms tightened even harder around his head and her legs clamped around his waist.

  “Tell me what you need, Rory, and I’ll get you there.”

  “I don’t know if—” She whimpered and he pulled back to see her eyes screwed closed tightly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

  He wasn’t sure if she meant she couldn’t ask for it, or if she was uncertain if she could come like this. If it was the latter, he’d fuck her against the wall until his legs gave out, and then he’d go some more after he collapsed on the floor if that was what he needed to do.

  As for the former, well… One of these days, he was going to make her ask for everything she wanted before he touched her. But today—when he was buried inside her, working both of them toward orgasm—wasn’t the day.

  He alternated his thrusts—deep, shallow, shallow, deep—as he bent to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking on the tight bud until her movements became sporadic. Slipping one hand between them to rub her clit, he pressed his other hand against her lower back, bringing them as close together as possible. He rubbed her in tight, fast circles, just how she liked, as he maintained his rhythm. Desperate to hold off his own release as long as she needed. He’d mentally walk himself through every aisle of the entire fucking hardware store if necessary.

  When she locked up around him, everything clenching tight and her breath held in anticipation, he gritted his teeth, pressed harder against her clit, and waited for her to fall.

  “Nash.” She came on a sobbed exhale, her body going limp even as her pussy squeezed him for dear life, pulling the orgasm straight from his bones.

  He thrust all the way inside her, settling deep and clutching her to him, his face buried in her neck as he came. “Shit, Rory. Fuck.”

  It felt too damn good to stop moving, so he didn’t. He rocked into her with slow thrusts. He’d never once been with a woman without a condom, but he wanted that with Rory. Wanted to feel her bare, wanted to stay inside her until he got hard once more and fucked her all over again.

  “I can’t believe you took me against a wall,” she said next to his ear, her fingers running through his hair.

  He lifted his head to look at her and raised an eyebrow. “‘Took you’?”

  She pinched his side, hard enough for him to jerk away. “You know what I mean.”

  Smiling, he palmed her ass and squeezed. “I didn’t take you anywhere, princess. I fucked you against this wall. And you loved every second of it.”

  The look on her face said he wasn’t wrong, and it gave him a jolt of satisfaction that he was the only one she’d ever shared this part of herself with.

  He had no idea what this thing between them was. And with the timeline ticking away on buying out his old man, his efforts should be focused elsewhere. Trouble was, he couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not yet.

  Whatever this was for her—exploratory sex with a guy young enough to fulfill all her desires, he guessed—he was going to take it without complaint. He was getting fucked on the regular by his long-time fantasy, and he was loving every second of it. Never mind that his heart was starting to enter into the equation.

  He ignored the part of him that whispered he was getting in too deep, too fast. He was going to ride out this thing with Rory as far as it took him. He’d worry about the fallout later.

  Rory could hardly remember why she’d been nervous about maintaining a working relationship with Nash while they were sleeping together. Turned out, working with him was as easy as breathing. Sure, they argued and it was a constant battle of wills between them, but she even enjoyed that part. He challenged her in a way no one else had ever even dared.

  “Rory?”

  She tore her gaze from the tile samples spread out in front of her and glanced over her shoulder. Nash stood in the doorway, his tool belt slung low on his hips and a stack of wood braced over his right shoulder. The way he had to secure it with both hands allowed a sliver of skin to peek out between the hem of his T-shirt and the waistband of his jeans. Not enough for her to really see anything good, but enough for her to remember.

  Her stomach flipped when she realized that she knew what his skin looked like beneath the material and had mapped every dip and valley of his muscles with questing hands. Knew what it felt like to have all that weight pressing down on her while he kissed her and whispered to her and thrust inside her. She could barely restrain a shudder from racking her body.

  “Hey, you still with me?”

  She snapped her eyes up to his, her cheeks flushing at the single raised eyebrow he greeted her with. Yep, he’d definitely caught her staring, and she had no doubt that every bit of her completely inappropriate thoughts was written all over her face. Thank heavens she had the wits enough not to say them aloud while they were in a client’s home. That was a line she wouldn’t allow herself to cross. She had to have some dignity.

  Swallowing hard, she met his gaze, hoping her need wasn’t broadcast through her eyes. “What can I do for you?”

  He stared at her for a beat too long, and she felt the heat of his gaze straight between her legs. How could a single look have her longing for so much more?

  Finally, he patted the wood he held over his shoulder. “Just wanted to verify Mi
ss Sally decided to put these in the master before I haul ’em all back there.”

  Sally Ward, their fourth client, had been back and forth on which wall she’d wanted covered in the gorgeous reclaimed wood, but Rory had eventually convinced her that the master bedroom was the way to go. Never mind that it was exactly what she’d told her at their original consultation.

  “Yep. But you might wanna hurry and get those up before she changes her mind again. There’s no tellin’ with that one.”

  “I’m on it, boss.” He winked at her before strolling down the hallway toward the bedroom, mindful of the load he carried as he went.

  Rory’d never been one to ogle men. Sean hadn’t ever been much to look at, and she’d just never before felt the need. But watching Nash walk away, his tight ass cupped perfectly in those well-worn jeans, his shoulders flexing even through the cotton of his T-shirt as he hefted the wood… Sweet fancy Moses. She leaned backward just to be able to catch every last glimpse of him she could until he disappeared through the doorway at the end of the hall.

  As soon as he was out of sight, she shook her head and twisted back to focus on the tile samples in front of her. If they were going to keep on track with their future bookings—yes, plural—then she needed to stay on task and stop lusting after her… Her…what? Friend with benefits? Fuck buddy? She sort of hated both of those terms, especially in relation to her and Nash. They belittled what they’d been doing together. At least for her…

  It’d come to be about so much more than sex. He’d managed to pull her out of her shell, had introduced her to so many other facets of herself. Ones she hadn’t even known were there. Ones she’d been too scared or nervous or embarrassed to explore—both sexually and personally.

  Nash strolled out of the bedroom, his eyes clear as he watched her, as if the whole sexually charged incident from minutes ago had never happened. “What’s her current stance on adding the beams to the living room?”

  Rory nodded once. “Still in favor. Though I suggest you move fast with that too.”

  He grinned. “I’ll bring ’em tomorrow and make sure a couple guys can come help me with ’em. Hopefully she won’t change her mind in the next twelve hours.”

  “Even though she’s stayin’ at her sister’s and not even supposed to be over here, you never know with her.”

  Nash pulled his phone from his back pocket to glance at the time. Could’ve been three in the afternoon or eight at night—didn’t matter to Rory. Ava and Ella were at Sean’s tonight, and that meant an empty house for her.

  Some days, it didn’t bother her, but others, all that quiet pressed down on her so hard she could scarcely breathe. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to not lying with her girls before bed and talking about their days. Not being able to tuck them in and kiss their foreheads every night. The loss made her chest ache.

  When her empty house was too much to bear, she just…didn’t go home. She worked late or she went to one of her sisters’ places or she popped into The Willow Tree under the guise of looking for Will or chatting with Mac if she was working.

  “You about done here?” Nash asked.

  Rory shrugged, running her fingers over one of the tiles. “I’ll probably stick around for a bit so I can get this narrowed down for her. Better for everyone involved if I only give her two to choose from.”

  He laughed under his breath, tucked his phone into his pocket, and folded his arms over his chest. “When’s the last time you ate?”

  “I—what?”

  “Food, princess. Have you eaten today?”

  She furrowed her brow, thought about it, and…nope, she sure hadn’t. She’d forgotten completely, which sometimes tended to happen when she got into the groove. “I’m fine.”

  “Course you are. You’re Rory Haven. You’re always fine.” He stepped closer…close enough that her nipples perked up at his proximity. “But you can’t run forever on empty. Why don’t you put down the tiles for a while and come with me to The Willow Tree?”

  Rory opened and closed her mouth several times, never quite able to produce actual words. Was he asking her out on a date? She had no earthly idea. It’d been nearly fifteen years since she’d been asked out on one, and she was woefully out of touch. But was that even what this was? Or was it just a friendly invitation between two coworkers—who happened to know what the other looked like naked—to grab a bite to eat?

  “Ah, got it,” Nash said before she had a chance to respond.

  “Nash, I didn’t—”

  He waved her concerns away with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It was just supper, Rory, but I get it. Nothing public.”

  “But that’s—” She clamped her mouth shut to keep the denial from spilling out because, yeah, that was exactly what they should be doing.

  He stepped even closer until their bodies were flush, rested his hand so low on her back, his fingertips grazed her bottom, and brought his lips to rest against her ear. “Don’t worry, princess. I have no plans to stop fucking you, even if it’s only in secret.” He turned his head, his lips just a whisper along her neck, and then he walked out the front door.

  Rory had to reach back to brace herself on the counter just to keep from collapsing into a puddle on the floor. Nash had absolutely no problem getting her blood flowing or making her crave him every minute of the day.

  But he was right—what they had needed to be kept a secret. If she and Nash walked into the only bar in Havenbrook, even to do something as innocent as share a meal, she had no doubt what’d come next—more talk, more whispers, more barely concealed finger-pointing. The townspeople had only just begun to move on from gossiping about her divorce every chance they got.

  And she had no intention of being thrust back into the limelight again.

  NASH SLID onto a barstool at The Willow Tree, pretending like his pride or his ego—or both—weren’t just a bit wounded. Why the hell had he thought it’d be a good idea to ask Rory out in the first place? He didn’t do local, and he sure as hell didn’t do girlfriends, so where did he get off asking her out on a date like it was no big deal? They were sleeping together, and that was it. It was good for her, it was fucking fantastic for him, and he needed to let that be enough.

  “Hey man, what’s up?” Drew flicked a coaster his way. “You here for beer or some grub too? Burgers are two for one tonight.”

  “I’ll take a beer.” Or possibly four. “And, yeah, gimme two of the usual burgers.”

  “You got it. Let me put this in, and I’ll be right back.” Drew knocked twice on the bar top before sauntering over to their computer system and plugging in Nash’s order.

  The bar was still full for a weekday, even well past supper time. He loved coming in here. There was nothing better than seeing the culmination of his hard work. His and Rory’s. As he glanced around, there was no denying how well they meshed. His builds and her designs went together flawlessly, and he was damn proud of what they’d been able to accomplish.

  “Haven’t seen you in here much lately. You been goin’ to Ropers?” Drew placed a beer in front of Nash and leaned one elbow on the bar top.

  Nope. What he’d been doing was spending most of his time off in the company of a woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.

  “Nah, just busy with work. Tryin’ to get this partnership off and runnin’. Gain a little traction with it.”

  “The stuff with Rory? That’s been the talk of the town. Heard a couple people say you’re booked out a few months? That’s great, man.”

  “Yeah, we’re pretty excited about it. Rory and I are just finishin’ up a—”

  “You’re aimin’ pretty high there, Little Nash, aren’t ya?”

  Nash turned to the right to see Grant Hill—a guy who’d been a few years older than him in school—sitting a couple stools over. “Aimin’ high for what?”

  Grant shrugged. “Landin’ a Haven girl. We both know that ‘working’ relationship is nothing but a farce.” He snorted and took a
long pull of his beer.

  “Grant…” Drew said, a warning clear in his tone. “I haven’t had to kick you out all week, but that doesn’t mean I won’t start tonight.”

  Nash was sure as hell glad Drew’d said something, because he was too stunned to do anything but stare. He’d figured people were talking—it was Havenbrook, after all—but he hadn’t yet been confronted with it. And he sure as hell hoped Rory hadn’t, especially after her reaction tonight.

  Grant held up his mug in a salute to Nash. “Just wanted to give you props is all. But I gotta tell you… If I was gonna fuck one of ’em, it sure as hell wouldn’t be the ice queen.”

  Nash wasn’t too stunned anymore. He slid off his stool and stepped right into Grant’s space. “You better watch yourself, Hill.”

  Grant held up his hands and leaned back, laughter on his lips. Too drunk or too stupid—or both—to realize he was about five seconds away from getting up close and personal with Nash’s fist. The guy was a buck twenty soaking wet, which meant Nash had him beat by a good eighty pounds.

  “All right, all right,” Grant said. “No disrespect intended. I didn’t know it was like that between y’all.”

  “It’s not like anything, asshole. She’s my business partner and a decent human being, and you’re a piece of trash. How’d you like for me to talk about your sister like that? Get the fuck outta here.”

  “You heard the man,” Drew said, pulling Grant’s mug out of his hand and dumping out the remainder of the beer. He jerked his head toward the front door. “Time to leave. And I better not catch your ass drivin’ home again. You know I’ve got Darcy on speed dial.”

  “Aw, c’mon, don’t call my sister. I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” The drunk asshole threw some cash on the counter before he ambled off, stumbling into chairs as he went.

  Nash could only shake his head, his hands curling into fists at the overwhelming urge he had to punch something. Or someone.