Brown Siblings - 01 Laid Bare (12 page)

Two sort of scary-looking guys, albeit—
hello—
her brother’s bread and butter at the tattoo parlor

—and her people really—stood near the alley on the other side of the café.

Her heart sped, making her dizzy. So dizzy she had to touch the window of the shop to keep her bearings. Damn it, she would not,
would not
allow a fucking panic attack right now. She wasn’t a pussy. She wasn’t a coward. She could open her own door without falling into a weepy puddle just feet away.

“Erin? Honey, are you all right?”

She looked around, blinking, and saw Brody standing in his doorway, wearing concern on his face. She’d seen it so many times she nearly burst into tears of frustration.

“Fine. Fine!” she spat out and forced her legs to take the next steps to the door.

“Shut the fuck up about fine.” Brody caught up to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and taking her keys. “I’ve told you to call me when you’re pulling up and I’ll meet you to unlock and let you inside. Why you do this to yourself every week is beyond me.” He jammed the key into the lock and then two more before the door swung open. She stood near her brother while he turned off the alarm and flipped on the lights.

At last he faced her, holding both her hands. “Baby girl, I love you so much. Let me help you.

It’s not necessary to be superwoman, you know? Why don’t you call me? I’m just next door.

You know I’ll come with you. I don’t judge you, because there’s nothing to judge. You’re not a burden. I like to do things for you.”

She blinked, but the tears came anyway and he simply hugged her, sliding a hand up and down her back.

“I hate being this person,” she said softly. “I used to be brave. I used to climb mountains and yell at hecklers. Now I jump at shadows.”

“God, Erin. You
are
brave. I wish you could see yourself, I wish you could see the woman Adrian and I see every day. Beyond strong to survive this goddamn mess.” He stepped back enough to look into her face. “How long has it been since you’ve been to therapy?”

“I should be better! How long will this last? I can’t go to therapy for the rest of my life.”

“Honey, you experienced something so horrible it would take any person years to get over. Why do you hold yourself to such a ridiculous standard?
I
needed therapy after it happened and it didn’t even happen to me. For a year and a half I went every two weeks because I was terrified of losing you. Do you think I’m a loser for needing that? Adele was your little girl, you loved her. Adrian and I loved her too. You nearly died and you’re my heart. That doesn’t come with a

‘heal by’ date like a carton of milk.”

She knew he was right. But therapy sometimes made it worse. Stirred up things best left alone and forgotten, or at the very least, pretended to be forgotten. Still, she couldn’t keep living this way.

“I’ll call her. It’s coming up anyway . . . the anniversary. I’ll probably need it.”

“We could go away. Me, you and Adrian. Head out to the coast. Go to New York, Vancouver—

hell, Amsterdam even.”

“No. I can’t run this year. But I want you to know I would have died without you and Adrian.

You guys throw me life preservers. You must hate being my lifeguard so much. Without me you’d have been able to go to art school. Instead you had to raise me and Adrian. That’s fucked up.”

He walked her back into the kitchen after locking the front doors and resetting those alarms. She started to pull out all the ingredients she’d need, all her pans and things, and he watched for a long time before he spoke.

“I’m your brother, Erin. I love you. When Mom and Dad died, of course I stepped in. Not because I had to, but because that’s what family does. That’s what you do when you love people.

I didn’t go to art school, but I have my own business. A successful business with a damned fine reputation. People come from all over to get my inkwork. What happened to me was supposed to happen. I don’t hate being your lifeguard. I’d be so sad if I couldn’t be there when you needed me. Just like you’ve been for me when I needed you. Adrian and I love you, we want to help you. We both feel a heck of a lot better when you reach out instead of suffering alone.” She began to fall into the ritual of measuring and mixing by hand, of flouring and kneading. Her panic smoothed after a few minutes.

Brody flipped on the CD player and PJ Harvey growled through the speakers.

“I’m leaving the connecting door open. If you want to sing, you know I’d love you for it.” He kissed her forehead and looked her over. He knew the storm had passed and so backed away.

She worked as
Dry
played. Played until “Fountain” came on and she stood near the door and sang part of the lyrics, ending with the line about what to do when everything’s left you.

The noise from the room next door had stilled to utter silence until Brody cleared his throat.

“Thanks, baby girl. You know I love that one.”

She did too.

11

He pulled into her parking garage and headed up to her condo. The doorman let him straight up on her orders. Standing orders apparently. Todd liked that a lot.

He’d spent the last three days listening to her CDs. Christ, her voice on those few songs she sang lead on was burned into his brain.

There’s a hole where you used to live

Dead inside and I can’t hide

I smoke and I drink and I still can’t stop

Thinking of you

Absent and there’s no going back

Absent and I hurt

Can’t hide from the hurt

Ben hadn’t been wrong about the song he’d recommended. Listening to Erin’s low, smoky moan as she poured her grief out, the gasp at the end where her tears were close to the surface, had nearly driven him to his knees.

He’d wanted to do some Internet research on the incident, but he’d been called out on one client meeting after the other, stumbling home to fall into bed, calling her or texting her if it was too late and he didn’t want to wake her.

He knocked, and when she opened up, she stood in a short, pretty dress, flowy at the leg and tight at the breast part. Perfect.

“Pink Floyd.” He smiled as he went into her place and heard “Wish You Were Here” in the background.

“Thank god. I was worried, you know. This Toby Keith thing has been keeping me up at nights.” Laughing, he swept her up into a hug, craving more of the way she felt pressed to him.

“Hello there, my gorgeous little freak.”

She paused for a moment and then snorted laughter, kissing his nose. “Only you could get away with these things.”

He could. Which is why, he supposed, he liked to do them so much. She made him feel special even when she did something as silly as making him a plate of food or laughing when he teased her.

“How hungry are you?” he asked.

And then she dropped to her knees, looking up at him after setting her glasses aside. Her hands rested in her lap, her back was straight as she waited.

He had a fleeting thought that she had no idea what she looked like kneeling there, how she moved him, but he knew she did, and that made her actions undeniably arousing. She did it on purpose because she knew what it did for him.

“Suck me. You know what I like.”

She murmured, licking her lips as she slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his shorts down to free his cock. She breathed deep, sliding her cheek along him, the cool of her skin a contrast to the heat of his.

She palmed his sac with one hand and gripped his root with the other before sucking tightly on him, inching down, bit by bit, until she’d swallowed a good portion of his cock, her lips touching the top of her fist where she held him.

Her hair was down, leaving him free to run his fingers through it, gaining enough purchase until he grasped tight and guided her—up and down, up and down—over his cock.

“Are you wearing panties?” His voice had lowered, neared a grunt as her mouth surrounded his prick with wet heat.

“Mmm,” she said, shaking her head with him still in her mouth.

“Christ,” he hissed as the image of her wet, sweetly pink cunt flashed through his head. “Take that hand off my balls and finger yourself. Don’t come yet. That’s mine. But I want you primed for when I shoot down your throat.”

Each time he gave the words up freely, each time he did what he wanted, what he craved, it got easier the next time. It wasn’t as if there was a manual for all this stuff, but with her it wasn’t necessary. With Erin on her knees before him, Todd knew they’d work it through, find ways to pleasure each other, keep each other wanting more, without pain, without disrespect, with . . .

love.

There hadn’t been a single moment, a time when the clouds had parted and the angels sang that he loved her. He just knew he did. Maybe he’d loved her a long time, tucked away in his mind for all these years. Maybe it had been when she leapt into his arms moments before. What mattered was that he felt it, and even better, he knew it.

Thought skittered away as her left hand slid between her thighs and she gasped around him. Her fingers were touching her cunt, he knew. He wished he could see more, but at the same time what he could see only forced him—
ha, forced—
to imagine it. Which, actually, was just as good.

He heard the wet sounds of her fingers playing through the juicy folds of her pussy; the scent of her arousal teased him as he continued to fuck into her mouth.

She pressed the tip of her tongue down the center of his cock each time she swallowed him, a line of pleasure, something new and entirely delightful.

He was close to coming, and the increasingly jerky movement of the hand between her thighs told him she was as well. He let go, coming in a hot rush, filling her.

“Don’t come yet,” he warned as a needy sound echoed around him. He pulled out and knelt before her. She swayed a bit, her eyes wide, face flushed. Her chest heaved and he knew she was a hairs-breadth from coming.

He touched her gently, his palms pushing the hem of her dress upward, exposing the vee between her thighs. Bare, wet—the scent of her honey tightened his gut and he leaned down, breathing her in.

Her fingers still curled there, shiny with her juice. Fuck. Fuck, he was in so deep with her. She moved him when he imaged himself quite beyond being touched in such a way.

“You want to finish, don’t you?”

Erin focused her gaze on him, the tendrils of climax still holding her close, beckoning. She’d never actually let another person hold her orgasm before. It was ridiculous and yet beyond intoxicating to hand him that power.

One twitch of her fingers and she’d fall. She thought of it, holding her hand still. Their gazes locked. His taste rang through her system; his cock was still out of his jeans, partially reviving.

He was so near, the heat from him radiated across her skin.

She swallowed hard, trying to find words. A nod was all she managed.

He took her wrist, gently moving her fingers away from her cunt. Her breath caught as he lowered his face, on his hands and knees now, to her pussy.

Nothing at first, just the soft waft of his breath against her thighs. She had to fight the urge to strain upward to his mouth. He hadn’t said she could. So she remained still, waiting . . .

“Good god, what you do to me,” he said, his lips just barely brushing her labia. The subtle sensation sent a shock wave of heat through her. “You can touch your nipples or me,” he said right before the slick of his tongue slid through her cunt.

She didn’t think to touch her nipples; all she could do was brace herself with her hands on the floor behind her ass where she knelt, her back arched, her thighs widening.

She wanted to watch him, but bright stars painted her vision with each small flutter of his tongue against her pussy, so she closed her eyes and felt. Her muscles began to burn from kneeling; sweat broke out on the back of her neck and she licked dry lips.

One more flutter of his tongue and a gasp wrenched from low in her gut. Orgasm rocketed through her body, rolling in waves until she had to beg him to stop.

He kissed her while her eyes were still closed, and they tumbled back to the area rug.

When she opened her eyes again, he looked down and she saw the tenderness in his gaze. Inside she knew what would happen and before she could stop him, he said it.

“I love you, Erin.”

She could not love him. Would not. The price was too damned high! She had to close her eyes again because tears welled up. Too late, too late, because she knew she loved him too, had for years, and it had lain dormant in her heart until she saw him in her café just weeks before.

Shit
.

He kissed each eyelid. “I know it might seem sudden but it’s not really. We’ve known each other ten years. You fit in the empty spaces just right. There’s a spot in my life that’s your size. Don’t say anything just now. Let me take you to dinner. Let me love you. The rest is what’s important.

Not words, but deeds.”

If he’d been harsh or hurt, if he’d demanded an answer, she could have resisted. But this gentleness was not something she could deal with.

So she nodded and allowed him to help her up.

He insisted on holding her hand as they walked over to Fourth and Virginia, to Lola.

He pulled her chair out for her, then moved his next to hers instead of across. His arm rested at her back, at the top of the chair, and he smelled so good she wanted to eat him up.

“What’s good here? The only place Tom Douglas had when I lived here before was the Dahlia Lounge.” He grinned at her before brushing a strand of hair back that had stuck to her lip gloss.

“Most everything. First of all we have to get fresh pita. It comes with all these different spreads and it’s really delish. I’m having a tagine, but the kabobs are yummy too. It all is, I promise.” They ordered, and when the bread arrived, she automatically made him a plate, laughing and asking him what he liked and didn’t. When she placed the plate in front of him and looked into his eyes, she jolted a moment.

“Are you mad?”