JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4) (64 page)

Read JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4) Online

Authors: Kristina Weaver

“Shut up and do me,” I grunt, smiling when I pull down and feel his intake of breath when his erection meets the wet warmth at the apex of my thighs. “Please.”

His blue eyes spark down at me, demanding my compliance, so I relax my hold and lie back, waiting, hoping he’ll stop playing and give me what I need.

“What do you want, little love? Do you want my mouth on yours? No? Then on your breast?”

“No,” I moan, pushing back up for some much needed friction. “I want you inside me. Please,” I beg, reaching down a hand to stroke his steely flesh in the tight grip he’d been searching for earlier.

The touch of my hand does what my pleading can’t do, and I watch his control snap before he pushes my hand away and lines himself up to my entrance, circling his hips once, twice, three times before he’s thrusting home and filling me to the brim.

I feel the pleasure engulf my every cell, starting down to the tips of my curling toes, and moan, sinking my fingernails into his tight ass to pull him closer, deeper.

“God in heaven, it gets better every time,” he growls, leaning up onto his palms to look down at where we’re joined.

The sight must do something for him, because he’s thrusting in and out, pounding into me so strongly I arch my back in relief and grab hold of the headboard, reveling in his complete abandon and the sight of his hooded eyes.

“Luc, Luc, Luc,” I chant, crying out in bliss when he powers deeper and hits me in that place deep inside that’s a one-way ticket straight to a mind-blowing orgasm.

His next thrust sends me over ,and I climax with a scream, my sex convulsing in waves as he thrusts again, pushing so deep it almost hurts, and lets go, shuddering as the warmth of his seed fills me.

“Don’t tease me again,” he warns, minutes later, rolling me to face him.

I nod wordlessly and close my eyes, knowing that no matter how much I know this isn’t healthy, I will never say no again. I want him as much as, if not more than, he wants me.

Looks like Plan B is a go.

Chapter Seven

 

“You gave it up!” Viv yells before I’ve cleared the threshold of Madge’s, her twinkling eyes accusing me as I shuffle my way to the table and fall down with a plop.

How they even know this just by looking at me is not worth thinking about, so I just ignore the creepiness of it all and attack the cherry donuts they’ve ordered today, intent on burying my failure beneath a landslide of comfort eating and plain old denial.

“Crap, you slept with him after one battle. Even I did better than that with Alex,” Nat mutters, shaking her head dolefully.

“I can’t help it! My husband is hot,” I hiss back. “He moved the sheet away and did this thing with his hips—”

“Oh, shut up! I do not need to hear this about my brother!” Cammy yells, covering her ears, with a gag for good measure.

We all break out laughing when she starts humming the theme to
Star Wars
and pulls a face to let us know how unimpressed she is.

“Brody?”

“Yeah. He finally gave in and let me make him dinner, but he chose the movie after, and…well, let’s just say trying to seduce a man while he’s lip synching everything Han Solo says is not as easy as it looks.”

“Never say!” I choke in mock horror, snorting water through my nose when she flips me the bird and huffs out a sigh.

“Not even a bloody snog afterward, either. He just got up and pecked my cheek before walking out, as if I hadn’t been trying to give him a full body licking. I’m starting to wonder if Brody is even worth all this effort. Seriously,
Star Wars
?”

That has us laughing so hard a snooty old lady at the table to the left starts shooting daggers our way—no private room today, thanks to the lunch rush.

“Don’t give up just yet, English, The Goldens are on it,” Brit trills, giving her the thumbs up. “But that’s for tomorrow. Now tell us, Ash, you little light skirt, what happened to teasing him mercilessly?”

“I just told you: he got all riled up when I did the morning wood tease, and when I came out of the bathroom he was buck naked and doing things with his hips that, for your information, should be an art form.”

Goodness, I wasn’t walking right after the first round, and that had only been the beginning. When Lucian Jasper says he’s going all day, he really means all freaking day.

I’m not complaining, mind you, because after round four he’d been replete enough to let me explore him. One inch at a time.

I’m now the proud owner of a few sex cards that every woman should have. Namely, oral skills that I do not mind having.

“We can fix this,” Viv says after our food arrives and we dig in. “It’s just a little hiccup. We just have to rework the plan with the knowledge that Ash is a light skirted whore. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

I gasp and give her the stink eye for that comment.

“He’s my husband.”

“No, he’s a mission,” they all say together, high fiving each other to the annoyance of Old Lady Sour Lips and her harrumphing ass. “You’re a wounded soldier on a mission to free innocent hostages from the cold, dark prison that is now your man’s heart. It’s your job to get everyone out alive before the stick up his ass blows everything to hell and back.”

I can’t even tell you what those words do to my mental imagery. Seriously, I’m gonna see that exploding stick every time I look at him now.

Or maybe not, seeing as that lazy hip swivel image has been dogging me for two days. Sexy beast.

“Okay, all right. What’s the battle plan then?” I ask, forking up a bite of mouth-watering salmon.

“If it in any way involves celibacy and keeping my hands off Lucian, I can tell you all now, that is so not happening. Especially not after that thing he did with his tongue this morning.”

Oooh, shiver.

“I think we should use your previously flopped attempt at declaring your love,” Brit says, looking around the table for agreement. “He’s obviously going to expect you to say it soon, since you’re walking around with your mushy heart on your sleeve and dripping blood.”

“Oh, nice visual,” Cammy croons, clapping excitedly despite my stink eye.

“I am not.”

“Are too, sister. I can practically see you bleeding on the inside, you’re so hot to say it. Keep it in, though, because this next part is gonna be oh so fun,” she cackles, making me shiver with dread.

I don’t tell them that the chances of me ever trying to say those three words again are like zero. Honestly, a snowball will make it through hell before I do that to myself again. Talk about humiliating.

“Go on then, and blind me with your dastardly plans,” I mutter, glaring at Old Lady Snoot and her narrow eyed squint.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you. Anyway, here’s what I want you to do.”

They all lean in closer, as if we’re plotting the end of the freaking world or something, so I follow suit and raise a brow, watching a smile spread over her face.

“You’re gonna be your usual, happy self. Have sex—have lots of sex. In fact, I want you to be the aggressor as often as possible. Jump him any chance you get. Then, when he’s so satisfied with himself, I want you to sit back and enjoy the show.”

“What show? All I’m hearing is the same old shit I’ve been doing before. Look how far that’s gotten me,” I humph, mashing my lunch into a pulverized lump.

“Nope. You see, this time you’re not going to give him the look or anything that in any way makes him feel like the invincible conqueror. Just play it cool and calm and let him catch up.”

Sounds easy enough, since I’d basically cut out my tongue before doing anything that dumb again. Once again I refrain from saying so and focus instead on something I’ve been mulling around for a few days.

“Do you guys think I can invite my friend Mary along sometime? She’s blonde and really pretty and I don’t think she’s attached. I’d like her to meet you nut jobs.”

“Sure, we could always use another Golden, since you brunettes have joined the fold. Just don’t expect us to start setting her up on dates or anything. We don’t match make; we facilitate.”

Facilitate my ass. These women are so devious and naughty I can’t help but wonder what kind of business they’d do if they ever put their minds to selling the goods.

“Here’s to getting your man and eating him too!” Brit yells, toasting me with her half empty water glass.

I highly doubt that’ll happen, but I keep my mouth shut and play along. If nothing else, I’m enjoying the hell out of having five lunatics as my best buds as I do my best to just hang on for the ride and pray I don’t come out of this with a banged up heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty One

 

Luc

Something is most definitely wrong. Very wrong.

“Is it just me, or is Ash being really weird lately?” Ben whispers to me across the kitchen table as we finish off his homework while my wife skips around the place humming and cooking up a storm.

It’s not just me then, I think, as the lad leans closer and eyes our girl like she’s a snake about to strike.

“She baked cookies for my class yesterday and even let me eat some for breakfast. I think she’s losing her marbles.”

I can’t disagree as she pauses and throws us a bright smile before going back to her potion pot.

She’s been so sweet and attentive since she went to another lunch with Cammy that I’m frankly afraid of what she’ll do next. I never thought I’d say this, but I’ve actually been hiding in my study most nights just to give my poor dick a break from her insatiable arse.

I’m exhausted, and annoyed that it can even be so, but I’m a little afraid of what she’ll do next if I don’t get a handle on her and slow her down a bit.

I can handle her hurt feelings—most days—and even come out of one of her tempers with only a scratch or two. It’s this enigma of cheer and sexual voracity that’s got me running for the hills.

Her behavior has me and Benjamin walking around on bleeding eggshells whenever she’s in the vicinity, and I actually miss her scathing sarcasm and those death stares she used to direct my way on a regular basis.

Not to mention the fact that her eyes are suspiciously devoid of anything remotely resembling emotion when she turns that robotic smile my way.

Dammit, what happened to the adoration I’d seen in her eyes just a week ago? Where are her uncertain looks and that stuttering blush every time I catch her looking my way?

“What are we gonna do, Luc? I think she’s gone nuts,” Benjamin whispers when Ash places the food on the table with the promise of dessert if we want.

It’s Wednesday. We only have dessert on Fridays and Sundays.

“I don’t know, old chap, but we’d bloody well better do something,” I mutter, giving her a strained smile when she comes back to the table and takes her own seat.

“Ashley?” I begin, gaining a small measure of confidence from Benjamin’s subtle nod. “Are you feeling quite all right, love?”

She smiles, her eyes distant and calm, and starts eating the Irish stew she’s made.

“Uh-huh. I’m just fine, Lucian.”

“Erm…are you sure, love? You seem to be…”

“You’re being weird, Ash. Like, really weird. Yesterday you said I could swim by myself after snack time. You never let me swim alone. Ever. And you’ve been humming and doing weird stuff that you called frou…something, I can’t remember what you said, but you laughed your ass—”

“Language, lad.”

“Your
butt
off when Randy did that stuff and called her a loser.”

“Yeah,” I agree, nodding my head thoughtfully. “And you haven’t once threatened to kill us if we mess with the remote when you’re recording your shows.”

“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” she says with a shrug, continuing to eat her dinner while we sit and stare. “I just don’t want to moan about everything. At least not things that are minor, anyway. I’ve decided to just chill out and see where things take me, ya know? No harm in keeping things simple.”

That simple statement sends chills down my spine for some reason. I just don’t know why.

“Now eat your food and prepare to be super wowed by the brownies I baked earlier.”

Benjamin and I share another fearful look before we dig in to the scrumptious feast and pretend not to be completely unsettled by the pod person chatting up a storm around us.

Something is most definitely wrong with my woman; I just can’t quite understand what the hell it is.

***

Ash

“I can’t go to another bake sale or mommy conference. I swear I’ll start leaking brain fluid if I have to listen to another conversation about the merits of baking powder versus fucking baking soda. Please tell me why you’re trying to torture me,” I whine into the phone as I stand on the steps outside and wave to my two men as they leave for the day.

My cheeks are so buff from smiling I’m scared to stop in case my whole face falls flat and starts oozing down my neck in a bid for freedom.

“Because we want to unsettle your man before giving him the double whammy of ‘oh my God, my woman is perfection personified’.”

“Yeah, he needs to see what the milk makes before he divvies up for the cow.”

“Why did I agree to a conference call at eight in the morning?” I ask again, letting my shoulders ease the moment the car is out of sight.

“Because you’re a giver?” Viv asks, chuckling at my disheartened growl. “Okay, okay, stop your belly aching, woman. You can stop the Martha Stewart act now. I bet you’ve got him hopping to keep up with your sudden about face.”

“Yeah,” I snort, giggling as I hit the kitchen and grab another cup of much needed coffee. “He actually hid away in his study last night, waiting for me to fall asleep. He almost had a heart attack when I popped out of the bathroom as soon as he snuck into the room. I almost wet my pants at the horror on his face.”

“I’ll bet. Did you wear those jammies we gave you?”

“No! Stop talking about this right now, or I’m hanging up the phone,” Cammy groans, sensing another sex talk in the making.

I’m a little relieved at her yelling when it stops the conversation and we move on to other topics. How am I supposed to admit that I’d taken pity on the poor man and all but tucked him in when I’d seen the dark circles beneath his eyes?

My own vagina had also needed some much deserved rest, so I’d fallen into bed and gone straight to sleep, a satisfied smile rimming my lips.

“So can I stop being a Stepford wife now? Please? I’m in the middle of this great romance book that I’ve been putting off since I started baking for the entire state. And I’m tired of being nice all the time. It’s not my style.”

“Yeah, we know,” they say in unison, their sniggers making me breathe deeply just to prove them wrong.

“Okay, Ash, you can stop being nice and go back to your normal crabby self. Just remember the rules. No feelingsy talk with your guy, and be as accommodating as possible whenever he’s around.”

I can do that. I like being free to jump him whenever I want, without the pressure they’ve been putting on me lately. Plus I’d really like for Ben to stop locking his door at night.

I think he’s a little afraid of me since I did my three-sixty personality turn and really don’t like seeing him scuttle around me or jump whenever I enter a room.

“I gotta go, bitches, early court date.”

“See ya.”

“See ya.”

“See ya.”

At the end I’m left with Cammy and her familiar questions about the past that Luc and I share. I haven’t said anything up to this point because I haven’t wanted to ruin things with the feelings that memories bring, but I know she won’t stop till she gets what she wants. Her obsession with Brody has proven that, so I buckle a little and give her a little taste.

“When he came over here on that exchange program, we had a…thing. We sorta fell for each other.”

Oh, and what a blissful fall that had been. I can still remember his eyes and the quick smiles he’d had for me. And the way we’d kissed, as if we were starved for each other…hot, hot, hot, even seven years later.

“Oookay. So then why the coldness when you met again?”

This is the hard part, the part that shames me and makes me so livid I can’t stand to breathe when I remember.

“He saw me talking to an ex. Chris’s mom and dad had been going through a divorce and he needed a shoulder to lean on. Lucian went nuts when he saw me hugging him, and, well…Chris might have gotten the wrong idea about things, but—”

“Love! Where are you?”

“Oh, crap. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

Disconnecting the call, I shuffle out of the kitchen just as he’s coming my way, my coffee forgotten the minute I see his face and the spellbinding smile he’s wearing.

“You just left.”

“And now I’m back,” he purrs, grabbing my left hand to slide something onto my finger.

“You got it back!” I whisper, all teary-eyed and soft when my ring slides into place and winks back up at me like it’s come back home or something.

I can’t believe I’ve missed the old boulder so much, but I know I do when I get all choked up about it.

“Yes. Frank found it in a pawn shop in Austin. That’s in Texas,” he clarifies, and I roll my eyes at him.

“I know where Austin is, douchebag. I’m not brainless,” I grouch, checking my ring for scratches and chips.

Seems almost as perfect as I remember, so I give up my thoughts of finding Wesley to cut his ass to ribbons.

My words, instead of offending him, make him pause before a huge grin appears, and I find myself pulled up and into his broad chest, my breasts and everything below mashed into his hard body.

“What did you just say?”

“I know where Austin is?” I breathe, losing focus as my eyes catch sight of his lush lips and the tongue I want licking my lips.

“The other part, love,” he murmurs, bringing me so close I feel our breaths mingle.

“I’m not brainless?”

“Try again.”

I want to giggle as I say the next words when I realize what he’s looking for.

“Douchebag.”

“Ah, that’s the one, love.” He chuckles before shoving a hand through my hair to pull me in to his mouth.

The kiss he gives me is an inferno of passion and so intense I feel moisture slide between my legs without any extra stimulation but that of his mouth devouring mine.

I’m so hot and ready by the time he pulls his mouth back that I’m willing to beg him to stay instead of going back to work.

“Are you okay now, love? No more strange behavior and trying to sex the life out of me?”

I blush when he grins and pushes himself closer, taking the sting of his words away by showing me how much he wants me.

“Fine, but don’t complain when you don’t like what I’m saying,” I warn, reaching up to plant a lingering kiss on the sensitive skin beneath his ear.

The action sends shivers through him and I push closer, wanting more than the meeting of our mouths.

Lucky for me, he pushes back and sets me away with a groan, because no matter how resolved I think I am, I’m feeling so much right now I can’t be sure I won’t do or say anything to give my feelings away.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I have to go,” he mutters, kissing me once, hard, before turning on his heel and striding out the door.

“Love? Wear the black tonight, would you!”

And then he’s gone. Leaving me grinning and more than a little relieved for this reprieve. I need to get myself in line before he comes home, and I need to do it fast.

It’s only when I’m pouring myself a fresh cup of coffee that I realize I never asked how they’d found the ring or what, if they’d found Wesley too, they had done with him.

I guess I must not care as much as I would have in my previous life. That makes me happy, and a little sad, because while I’d been enraged and disappointed in him, I never thought I’d get to the point that my own…father…would mean less than nothing to me.

 

 

 

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