TIED: A Steamy Small Town Romance (Reckless Falls Book 3) Page 6

  "Follow my lead," he said, pressing his hand against my back.

  I didn't want to let on how good it felt to have it there. "I really don't have a choice, do I?" I teased.

  He didn't answer, instead sweeping us around until we were in the very center of the small dance floor. Around us, a few scattered fifty-something executives shuffled with their sequin-bedecked wives, but when the song changed, three other couples abandoned the dance floor, leaving only two remaining. We were the only people our age out here, but for once I didn't feel awkward. How could I when Rett was holding me so close, his strong hand in the small of my back pressing me up against him as he moved us both?

  I closed my eyes and let him lead me.

  The fabric of his suit trousers just brushed between my legs as we swished in a circle. My breath was coming in short little gasps that had nothing to do with the exertion of dancing. "People are watching us," I commented as he turned me in a skillful spin.

  He caught me back in his arms. "That's because we are the best dancers on the floor," he said, and even though it sounded like he was bragging, it was nothing more than a simple statement of fact. We really were the best dancers on the floor.

  Actually... "You're the best dancer on the floor," I pointed out to him. "I'm just using you to look good." I grinned. "Is there anything you can't do, Eagle Scout McCabe?"

  His eyes flashed down at me, and he grinned but didn't answer and I knew exactly what he was saying without him saying it. He was good at everything. And what's more, I already knew that.

  I knew how good he was.

  Heat that had no business being anywhere in my body radiated outward from my core and I dragged my eyes away from his.

  We're friends, I chanted to myself, ignoring the way his leg brushed against my thigh as he moved me. That was just a one-time thing. It's not happening again. It'll never happen again. I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the way he seemed to know my body as well as I knew it myself, ignoring the skillful way his hands moved me, applying light pressure here, or a gentle nudge there. Moving me so skillfully that I could almost be moving myself. Making me look way better than I could ever do alone.

  We are just friends, I reminded myself once again. We've known each other forever, he's my brother's friend, he's just familiar enough to be comfortable.

  We're using each other.

  I settled back into that thought with an almost audible sigh of relief. "You're just using me to look good in front of your coworkers," I said, craning my neck upward to whisper in his ear. "You needed a good way to show off."

  He turned his head, so that his cheek barely brushed against mine, but there was no denying the trail of goosebumps that marched right down my spine. "You want to use me now?" he murmured against my cheek.

  I pulled back. His eyes looked darker than they had any right to be. I licked my lips. His mouth right there, filling my vision. "I just might," I breathed again.

  His lips caught mine. There was no other word for the way he laid claim to them. His kiss was slow, melting, and even if we hadn't been spinning around the dance floor, I still got dizzy. His thigh was between my legs and my breath caught as it brushed up, pressing upward. I pulled away from the kiss and stared at him.

  He couldn't have known what he was doing.

  He held my gaze as he pressed his hand downward on the small of my back just as he lifted his knee. I gasped.

  He knew exactly what he was doing.

  I closed my eyes against the pressure, feeling the heat gathering there at my center, feeling the need throbbing lower.

  He pressed down harder at the base of my spine when I bore down a little on his thigh. I exhaled sharply.

  "Everyone is watching," he whispered and then moved his thigh again, brushing up then down.

  My breath caught in my throat. "Jesus," I whispered, gasping. "Jesus, Rett."

  He pulled back a little, leaving me panting. His eyes caught mine and there was something different there, something other than the friendly, dependable guy that had been in my life forever. "I'm going to take you home," he said, his voice low and dripping with a heavy promise. "Come with me."

  Everything in my body screamed at me to reel it in, and dial it back. But there was something so intoxicating about hearing him tell me what to do. What was going to happen next. It was so freeing just to let him lead me. There was such power in giving it over to him, and letting him decide.

  So when I opened my mouth, the word that came out was, "Yes."

  Everett

  I was going way too fast on these winding dark roads, but what else could I do when Brynn had her hand on my thigh?

  We were ten minutes away from town, five minutes away... My heart was a jackhammer in my chest, every nerve ending on fire. "Your place or mine?" I asked her in a strangled gasp.

  Her breathing was tight and I swear I could hear her heartbeat. "Mine is closer," she murmured.

  A firework of triumph went off in my brain. I put my hand on her leg and just held it there for a moment, letting her get used to it, enjoying the heat that radiated from her skin. She had the most amazing skin, peachy and golden at the same time. Slowly, I let my fingers climb up her thigh, feeling the way the skin tightened into goosebumps under my fingertips. I could feel the soft, downy hairs on her upper thighs where she stopped shaving. I swallowed against my tightening throat, trying like hell to keep my eyes on the road before I killed us both. I needed to stop, we'd be at her place any second where I could take my time and savor her. But the throbbing need in my groin made me push higher to the crease of her thigh and then against the fabric of her panties.

  She hitched a little, drawing in a sharp breath. But she didn't stop me, so I kept going, because that's what I do. I push, to the limit. "You're so wet," I exhaled, sliding my finger under her panties and a low groan escaped my mouth as I slid my finger down into those slick folds. "So warm and wet, Brynn. Fuck..." I wrenched the wheel to the left to keep from driving us off into the field of wildflowers by the side of the road, but I didn't move my hand from her searing heat. I could feel her looking at me, and without even thinking, I began to move my finger over the tight pearl of her clit, aching to spread her thighs wide and taste her again. I had tasted her once, that night in the closet. But I hadn't been able to see her. I could only imagine the way she'd look spread open before me.

  Frustrated, I moved my finger faster. Her breath caught again, a startled little choking gasp and I spun the wheel to turn us, jerking and sliding into her street.

  We came skidding to a halt at an angle at the bottom of her driveway. In a wild rush, I threw the car in park and shoved my door open. I had every intention of bounding over and grabbing her from the passenger seat, of carrying her straight through that open door right to her bedroom.

  That open door...

  "What the fuck?" I cried.

  Before she could say anything, I was sprinting across the lawn. "Brynn you stay there, you stay right there," I ordered her, waving my arms. She stepped back behind her car door, peering out with wide, terrified eyes.

  Light was flooding out of the living room window, a light I had seen her turn out with my very own eyes. And the door was standing half-open after I'd seen her lock it with those same eyes.

  I already had my cell phone out, dialing nine, then one, when my foot crunched on glass on the ground.

  Shards of glass were scattered across the porch. I felt my throat tighten when I saw that the window had been punched out just above the doorknob. I tensed and looked around for a weapon. Stepping back off the porch, I bent down to the ground, my fingers closing around one of the decorative rocks in her garden.

  Something heavy slammed into the back of me. I grunted and wheeled around with the rock in hand and just missed braining Brynn with it by a fraction of an inch.

  "What the hell?" she gasped. But she wasn't looking at me, and had no idea that I'd almost sent her to the hospital. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my ragged, jang
ling nerves. For her sake.

  "I told you to stay in the car," I said.

  She took one step back, but didn’t move from the spot. "Somebody broke in," she said dully.

  "Looks like it," I said, keeping my voice low.

  "What do I do?" she said again.

  Fuck, she was terrified. Feeling like an asshole for scaring her, I went to her and wrapped my arms around her tight, wishing like hell I had a blanket to keep her from shivering. Holding her close, I could feel the way her heart beat frantically, like a rabbit in a trap and slowly I maneuvered her backwards, away from the glass, away from the invasion of the sanctity of her home. "You don't have to do anything," I told her. "I'm right here. I've got it."

  She looked up at me, blinking, eyes still wide with shock. "What are you going to do?"

  I turned and looked back at her house. There was no movement in the windows, no shadows passing, but that didn't mean a thing. "We have no idea if they're still in there," I told her, turning back to tilt her chin up. Her darting eyes settled on mine and she took a deep, shuddering breath. "You're good," I told her. "You're fine. You're safe. Just do what I say and stay behind me," I said. "I'm calling the police."

  Chapter Eleven

  Brynn

  Gabe Foster had been much more serious this time, taking my report with much stomping and serious looks. The thief, whoever he was, didn't seem to have a reason for breaking in at all. Nothing was missing. Nothing was even out of place. It was all very strange, and Gabe agreed. He'd warned me to call him at any time I felt unsafe, reminding me that we were friends and he was worried for me out here. A woman all alone.

  But instead of making me feel safe to know he was worried for me, it just made me feel more victimized. When he opened the door to his car, I breathed a sigh of relief.

  As Gabe pulled away in his cruiser, I suddenly became aware of how quickly the night had cooled off. I clutched my arms across my chest and shivered, suddenly freezing. Then my teeth started to chatter.

  "Are you okay?" Everett asked, moving to my side. His voice soft and low, and strangely soothing.

  I looked up at him and tried to work my lips into the shape of a smile. "Yes, I'm fine," I said, my voice false in my ears.

  I just needed him to stop looking at me for a second, let me pull myself back together again. Everything was fine, the police report had been made, there was no damage other than the window and I was okay, so why couldn’t I stop shaking?

  "Brynn," Rett said, his voice cutting through the storm of thoughts that raged inside my head. "Would you like me to stay?"

  I turned and looked at him again. I wanted to tell him no thanks, I was fine. It was no big deal, no need for all these dramatics.

  I opened my mouth tell him all that, but the word that came out instead was, "Yes."

  He nodded, then wrapped his arm around my waist, skillfully guiding me up the stairs into my house. He led me so assuredly, that I could have just closed my eyes and leaned on him, and let him do the work leading us both, and in fact I did just that. I rested my head on his shoulder, suddenly and inexplicably tired.

  Rett entered my house like he'd been there a zillion times before, turning in the narrow front hallway and pushing me gently up the stairs. I wasn't going to think about the fact that we were heading into my bedroom. I wasn't going to think about anything at all. With him leading me, I didn't have to do anything at all.

  I was immensely grateful that for once I could just let someone else do the work.

  He guided me down the short hallway and then pressed open the door to my bedroom, letting me step in first, a consummate gentleman. Mr. Stevens stood up from his nest of covers on my bed and stretched, then made a hopeful beeline down the stairs towards his food bowl.

  Rett shut the door behind him.

  "Do you want me to stay?" he repeated again, once we were both inside.

  Once again, I tried to summon the will to say that yes, I was fine, he should go.

  But the second he took his hands off me, that surge of fear was back again. I closed my eyes and then opened them. "Stay," I said in a ragged exhale

  "Brynn," he said, and God, had he always said my name with that same low growl? "I'm asking you. What do you want?"

  I licked my lips and closed my eyes, remembering the assured way he'd touched me in the car, remembering that moment in the closet. What did I want? Was he going to make me say it?

  I opened my eyes. "Put your hands on me, again," I said. And, hating how bossy I sounded, I inhaled sharply. "Please," I asked softly.

  He stepped forward. Were his eyes always that dark? They were usually a soft hazel green, the color of moss and lichens and cool, shady pines. Now they were almost black.

  When his hand slid around my waist and he pulled me closer to him, I felt that same sense of calm, of letting go. His fingers on my skin were somehow both a sedative and a stimulant all at once.

  "My hands are on you," he said, and his lips were so close. "But you want more, don't you?"

  I nodded, biting my lip.

  "No," he said, barely audible, his breath against my ear. "I don't think you want. I think you need."

  I nodded again. "I need you to hold me. I need you to kiss me," I said, unsure of exactly whose voice it was that was saying these things so directly. "Make me stop thinking," I begged, and this time I was sure the voice was mine, because I couldn't keep the note of begging out of it.

  His hands were sliding up my thighs. "Kiss me, then," he ordered me.

  I licked my lips and went up onto my tiptoes, straining for his lips. As we kissed, he worked his thigh between my legs, just as it had been on the dance floor. But this time I ground myself into him, not even hearing about being such a wanton slut. I moaned into his mouth. "Do you find me useful to have around?" he asked, throwing my words at me, his lips curling into a smile against mine.

  "Well," I sighed, wrapping my arms around his neck. "When you're good at something..."

  There was the curve of a smug smile at the corner of his mouth. "Just good?"

  I'd already lost whatever dignity I possessed, so I figured why lie? "The best," I moaned.

  He made an appreciative little humming noise against my forehead. "We fucked in a cramped closet," he murmured, brushing his lips across my forehead and down to my ear. "You were barely able to move," he whispered. "You liked that?"

  What could I say about how that had made me feel? To be pressed between his body and the wall? To be held, cradled, and completely under his control? How could I explain the strange way it calmed me, soothed me, the way it made me feel completed? Like the last missing pieces of my own personal puzzle sliding into place. "I did," I groaned, arching against him. He obliged me by pressing his hands into the small of my back, pushing me down against his thigh. "I did like that."

  This time his noise of appreciation was more like a growl, a rough, dangerous noise that rolled through me right down to my toes. There was this caged up, dangerous animal lurking inside of Rett, I could see it now. Until now he'd only let me see that buttoned-up exterior, the good Boy Scout. But he wasn't all he seemed.

  And I was desperate to know more.

  He snaked his hand around my waist then walked us both backwards. I hit the wall with a gasp, and then gasped again when he caught my wrists and pinned them over my head. Then he stepped back.

  The way his eyes flicked upward to take in the sight of him overpowering me told me everything I needed to know about how much he liked it. And the way my body melted told me everything I needed to know about how much I liked it too.

  "How far do you want me to go?" he asked, leaning down and catching my lower lip in his teeth.

  I shivered. What I wanted him to do, and what I wanted to ask for were two different things. The way he had me trembling just from the feel of his body pressed up against mine — pinning me to the wall, pressing me with his weight — frightened me.

  "I don't know," I said, and that was a bald-faced lie, but
I didn't want him to know how badly I wanted this.

  "If I touch you, right here," he asked, sliding his fingers along my thigh, just high enough to make me arch upward against where he cupped me, "would you say no?"

  "No!" I gasped, going up on my tip toes, urging him on.

  He made a sound in the back of his throat. The light was on this time, I could see him, and I could see how his eyes were almost black when he looked at me. "What if I touch you here?" he said, sliding the tip of his finger along my seam just over the fabric of my panties. "Would you say no?"

  I was nearly out of my mind, so I didn't even know what to say. "Yes!" I gasped. "I mean, no!"

  "You want more?" he asked.

  I could feel his body straining, vibrating delicately with the force of holding something back. It was that something that I wanted, even though I didn't have a name for it. I wanted whatever it was he was trying so desperately to keep tamped down

  "I want more," I told him and blushed immediately.

  But he wasn't looking at my face. He was looking down, watching his own finger as it slid lightly over my clit. Lightly, so lightly, too lightly. I moaned, and slid downward, or tried to, but his hand still had me pinned. I was at his mercy, and what's more, I liked it.

  "I'll give you more," Rett rasped, bending down to nip at my neck. His lips traced a line up to my ear lobe where he took the soft flesh between his teeth and nipped down just enough to make me gasp before moving his fingers faster, making me gasp for a whole different reason. "I'll give you exactly as much as you want. You just have to tell me you want it."

  "I want it," I begged. I craved that edge of danger he was promising me.

  And he knew it too, by the way he hissed a sharp indrawn breath. His finger, suddenly rough, ripped the fabric of my panties aside and I bit my lip as it slid inside of me.

  "So wet," he groaned, bending his lips to my neck again.

  I squirmed against it, still pinned by his hand, wanting to move, to arch, to grind, but he held me fast, drawing it out, his thumb finding the small button of my clit and moving in slow circles in time with his thrusting finger. "I love how wet you get for me. I love how much you need this."