Текст книги "Can't Resist Him"

Автор книги: Molly McLain

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Sixteen

One week later...

Fucking Friday night traffic.

Brody tapped this fingers on the steering wheel while the semi in front of him hit the brakes for the tenth time in the last two minutes. The right lane was just as backed up, so there was no going around. Just this snail-paced progression that had snapped his patience about fifteen miles back.

Seeing red and blue lights flashing ahead probably should’ve made him feel bad for all the four-letter words he’d hollered at no one in particular, but he had a woman waiting, dammit. At this rate, Jenny would be in bed by the time he hit River Bend.

Not that climbing in beside her would be so bad.

Fuck, maybe bed was exactly where he wanted her, after all.

He chuckled to himself as his radio muted and a call came over the bluetooth. His mother’s cell. Not unusual, but rare enough this late on a Friday night that it gave him pause.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Finally—finally—the right lane cleared enough for him to slide out from behind the damn truck.

“The moon? The stars? Your father’s cholesterol?” Lena Nelson quipped, followed by a throaty giggle.

Brody rolled his eyes. “Kinda late for you to be calling, isn’t it?”

“It’s eight o’clock. We’re not that old, Brody James. Jeez.”

Yeah, yeah. He waved his hand, you know, because his mother could see that through the phone. Argh. “Maybe not, but you know I’m headed out of town this weekend. I figured something was going on.”

“Actually, it is. Your dad and I are stuck in traffic on I-80. We’re heading to North Platte for the weekend. Grandpa had a little fall earlier today.”

Heat rose up Brody’s neck. “A fall? Doing what?”

“Unfortunately just walking from the living room to the bathroom. He’s not hurt, other than a bruised hip, but we wanted to check in nonetheless.”

“I could’ve done that. I’ll only be in River Bend.” Hell, maybe he should grab Jenny and head that way, too.

“No, no, sweetie, it’s fine. You enjoy your weekend. I needed to get out of the house anyway. Make the most of this nice spring weather and whatnot.” In the background, his father griped about the cars braking in front of him and Brody smiled.

“How long are you staying? Until Sunday?”

“Probably. You?”

“Same.” He lifted his cap and scratched at his head as an unfamiliar, but not unwelcome, thought came to mind. “Maybe I’ll come up tomorrow.”

“Really, honey, you don’t have to. Grandpa won’t like us doting on him. Grandma’s already doing enough of that, I’m sure.”

Of course, she was, but... “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

As if the weird whirling sensation in his stomach wasn’t enough, his mother’s long moment of silence nearly did him in.

“Mom?”

“Are you seeing someone?” Jesus, was she breathing hard or what he hearing things? “Is that why you’re spending so much time in River Bend?”

Shit, she was gonna make a big deal out it, wasn’t she? “On second thought—”

“Don’t you dare, Brody James! Don’t you tease me like that and then try to back out! You bring her tomorrow or I’ll drive to River Bend and find her myself!”

Way to open your mouth, dumb fuck. Fist bump! “I’ll bring her.”

“Darn right you will. I’ll make brunch.”

“Brunch?” He didn’t plan on leaving Jenny’s bed until at least noon.

“Brunch. And don’t be late. Crepes are better fresh.”

Ahh, fuck. Not the crepes. “It’s not Christmas, Ma.”

“Nope—meeting your girlfriend is better than Christmas. See you in the morning, sweetie.” Click.

Well, hell.

***

Meeting him at the door naked was probably too presumptuous. Maybe a bra and panties would be a more subtle approach.

Jenny stared in the mirror, chewing the inside of her cheek and considering her options. Black or white? Either way, it’d end up on the floor, so did it really matter?

Yes, it definitely mattered. Being with Brody wasn’t only about sex—it was about pleasing him. Him, the first man in maybe ever who seemed to actually care about her more than her body.

That alone was worth the extra effort.

Suddenly, she froze. Were those tires crunching in the driveway? Crap!

She stuffed the lingerie back into the drawer, snatched up the first oversized t-shirt she could find and yanked it over her head in a frenzy. Panty-free would have to work. She’d do better next time.

She sprinted through the house, pausing just long enough to catch her breath and wet her lips before she flung opened the door. He met her on the porch with a wicked grin and the duffel bag slung over his shoulder hit the concrete with a thud.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured. His eyes blazed hot as he lifted her off the ground and carried her desperately into the house, his hands seemingly everywhere at once. Her back hit a wall—which one she wasn’t sure, because she lost all sense of everything but him when his hungry mouth came down on hers.

He tasted like something sweet and she clung to his thick, sturdy shoulders, getting totally, unabashedly drunk on his kisses. She could live on them alone, she was sure of it, because nothing filled her up, made her feel more satisfied and complete, than Brody.

Somewhere in the chaos, he lost his shirt. And hers found its way up to her collarbone while he devoured her breasts. She moaned, he grunted, and when she worked his fly free and pulled out his erection, it took him seconds to hoist her a little higher, spread her wide, and seat himself inside.

“Ahh, baby,” she panted, her eyes locked on his while he jaw ticked and his face strained. Up and down he lifted her, wetting himself and sliding deeper with every stroke. The teasing glide of his piercing felt...unbelievable. Just right, and yet not enough.

“Condom?” The word rumbled past his tight-set mouth, but he never broke pace. Just filled her over and over again, skin on skin, so many unspoken promises shining in his eyes.

He didn’t need to say them, because she felt them. In her head, in her body, in her heart...

“I trust you.” She smoothed her hand along the side of his bristled jaw, her thumb parting his lips.

“You sure?” He lowered his forehead to hers and his tenderness stole her breath. But it was the quiet vulnerability in his eyes that did her in. He’d needed her to say those words as badly as she’d needed to feel them.

“You’re going to make me love you,” she whispered, and her voice broke with pent-up emotion she couldn’t hide any more.

His chest shook as he exhaled, and somehow his strong arms seemed to tighten around her and become gentle at the same time. “That’s the plan, sugar.”

God help me.

She cried out when he withdrew and drove home again, because this...this was what making love was supposed to feel like. No walls between them. No holding back. Just trust and faith borne between two people who had nothing left to lose.

“Come for me, baby.” He shifted the angle to free up a hand and rub little circles around her clit. His fingers shook, but he already knew her body so well. Knew just the right amount of pressure, just the right friction...

But she held back.

“You, too,” she pleaded. “Together.”

Dark haziness slid over his gaze and his hips began to piston hard. Lifting, pumping, totally claiming her from the inside out...

She slid her hands down his biceps and, gripping hard, she let go. He followed after, unloading with not an inch to spare between them. Watching the tension in his face turn to bliss was unreal. Majestic. Not just because he was a beautiful man, but also because he was her beautiful man.

She pressed her face into his perspiration-dotted neck and breathed him in. Mine. Every spicy, delicious, hard-muscled inch of him was hers.

They stayed there several minutes holding on to one another before he carried her back to the front door, kicked it shut, and took off at a jog down the hall with his pants falling off his ass and a goofy grin on his face.

“All the way to the end,” she laughed...and then harder again when he tripped and almost toppled them onto the bed. He kept going though, depositing her in the shower and making quick work of getting them both completely naked.

He turned her t-shirt toward her and pointed to the Marines logo. “A million times better than Victoria’s Secret, and the lack of panties was a nice touch, too.”

“I might’ve accidentally borrowed that...” The not-so-innocent heat in her cheeks flamed when he climbed in behind her and slid his hand down to cup her sex. Where the evidence of what they’d done couldn’t be missed.

“Thank you for this,” he spoke tenderly, his lips against her ear while he used his seed to paint her clit and build the fire once again. “I saw the pills when you were at my place, so I know we’re good that way. And, at the risk of sounding like a douche bag frat boy, it means a lot to me that you’d let me go in without. I’ve never done that before.”

“Me either,” she confessed, shivering when he brushed her hair off her neck and licked from the curve of her shoulder to the spot behind her ear.

“Why me, sugar?” he asked humbly. “I can’t be the first guy who’s ever wanted to.”

“No, but you are the first to offer me something better in return.”

“What’s that, babe?”

She turned in his arms and toed up to kiss him. “You.”

***

Sometime between their shower and another round of making Jenny scream, it began to rain. The curtains on her bedroom windows danced in the wind, carrying with them the fresh, earth smell of spring.

“Things are going well with Elena?” In nothing but his black boxer briefs, he stretched out his legs on top of her comforter and shoved a spoonful of butter pecan ice cream into his mouth. Beside him, sitting cross-legged in his Marines t-shirt, Jenny swallowed her bite and nodded.

“Better than well. The girl is a godsend. She’s got a way with the older ladies that I didn’t see coming and she’s incredible with the teenagers, too. We had a boy come in yesterday, wanting to color his hair orange to match his new dirt bike. Elena talked him into a nice faux hawk instead. I swear to God, he did the whole hip roll swagger thing when he walked out. It was hilarious.”

“Why not just let him color his hair? Being that age is all about learning to express yourself, right?”

“For sure. The problem is how impulsive they are about it. I guarantee he would’ve been back in a week, wanting his brown hair back.”

“So let him do it then. Let him learn on his own.”

Jenny winked. “I could have, but his mother and four sisters are some of my best customers.”

Ah. He chuckled. “Well, now I understand.”

She set her bowl down to twist her hair into a bun, which was seriously hot as fuck. Just made him want to take it all down again. Then again, there was something inherently sexy about sitting on her bed in the lamplight, eating ice cream, while rain hit the ground outside. Just being there with her like that turned him on in a way he couldn’t explain other than it felt comfortable. Right.

“How long have you had your piercing?” she asked, spooning up another bite with a smirk. “Was that an impulsive decision?”

“Fuck yeah.” He nodded. “Just back from Afghanistan the second time. Thought I was invincible.” Just the memory made him grimace. “Getting a needle shoved through my dick pretty much proved that wrong. I had friggin’ tears in my eyes.”

Her smirk turned into quiet laughter that shook the bed. He grabbed for her toe and she laughter harder. “Obviously you’ve come to...enjoy it.”

Now it was his turn to grin. “I’m not complaining. Are you?”

The dim lighting made the blush in her cheeks glow. “Definitely not.”

“Good.” He squeezed her toe and set his empty bowl on the nightstand. “So there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Eyebrows raised, she shot him a glance. “A good kind of something or a bad kind of something?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re a fan of meet-n-greets.” He pushed a hand through his hair and hesitated. Sex without a rubber and meeting his family in one weekend might be pushing his luck. “My grandpa fell earlier.”

She gasped, but he lifted a hand.

“He’s fine, but my folks drove over tonight to check in anyway. They’re staying the weekend.”

“Oh.” She reached her bowl over, set it inside of his, and resettled. This time, draping her bare legs over his. “Okay, so...?”

He told her about the half-cocked comment to his mother and her presumptuous response. “You don’t have to come with, but I’m pretty sure my mom wasn’t kidding about coming down here. She’s...”

“Nosey?” Jenny trailed her fingertips along his thigh, toying with the hem of his boxers. Nothing seductive or flirty. Just...affectionate.

“More like desperate,” he chuckled.

“You haven’t brought home many girls, huh?” A pleased smile twitched at her mouth.

“You really wanna go there, sugar?”

“Chances are your mother will tell me anyway, so maybe I should hear your version first.”

Christ. One, she’d more or less just agreed to go with him tomorrow. Two, her fingers were skimming closer and closer to his balls.

“You may have a point there.” Good thing there wasn’t much to tell. “I had a serious girlfriend in high school. Liz. She left a bra in my bedroom once and it got mixed in with my laundry.”

“Oh, shit.” Jenny’s eyes went big.

“Yeah. Total disaster. My mom gave it to Father Joe and asked him to talk to me about premarital sex. I still can’t look the man in the eye.”

Collapsing backward, Jenny rolled with laughter. “Your priest? That is so wrong!”

“You’re telling me?” He shifted until he was stretched out beside her, his legs hanging off the short side of the bed. “Then there was this one girl in college. Victoria. She came home with me once at Christmas because her family was going through some shit. She ended up stealing some of my dad’s Royals cards. Pawned them so she’d have money for weed. Turns out her parents had been split for years, and getting collector cards out of hock costs a small fortune.”

“Aww, you got them back for him?” She snuggled into his side and laid her hand on his stomach, so he curled an arm around her shoulders and watched the fan go round on the ceiling.

“Yep. Believe it or not, I wasn’t always this badass, inked dude.” He gave her a playful squeeze and she wriggled her fingers into his abs.

“Don’t ruin my fantasy, Superman.”

“Sorry, babe. Beneath it all, I’m just an average guy.”

“Who’s gone to war three times. Who’s saved God only knows how many people. Yep. Totally average.” Her hand slid down to his junk and he braced himself, sure her intent was to assuage the war talk with sex. But instead, her touch was gentle again. Intimate, but not sexual at all. And it felt fucking amazing.

“Tell me about you. Feel free to skip the part about how much your mother loved Reed, though. I don’t need to hear that shit.”

Jenny gave a short laugh. “You’re safe then. She only tolerated him because I did. For the most part, she thinks he’s got a stick up his ass.”

He liked her mother already. “My kind of woman.”

“Hey now. Don’t get any ideas. She’s single, but she’s recovering from a major cardiac event. She couldn’t keep up with you.” Down her fingers went, sliding over his sac, then back to his dick, tracing the outline of his head so lightly that he shivered. “Sorry. I didn’t even realize I was doing that.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he heard the embarrassment in her voice. “Don’t apologize. Don’t stop either. It’s feels good.” He kissed her temple and ran his fingers through her hair. This time she was the one who trembled, and a crooked grin quirked on his lips. Petting. They were fucking petting each other and he wasn’t even thinking about getting laid.

Except now. Now he was thinking about sex. Dammit.

“Go on,” he prompted her, tugging gently on a dark lock of her hair.

She sighed. “The only guy I ever actually brought home was Jake. I mean, I guess there were a couple boys in high school, but they don’t count. They just picked me up at the door and dropped me off a few hours later.”

Fucking Jake. Dudes named Jake were always trouble. “Tell me about this Jake.”

She shook with amusement and he imagined her rolling her eyes. “Not much to tell. He was a decent guy, but he wanted to travel and I didn’t want to leave my mom. I’m the only family she has here.”

Sounded a little more current than he’d expected. “When was that?”

“A few years ago.”

He nodded, not thrilled, but not wanting to act like a caveman either. Of course she had a past. She’d been upfront about it from the beginning.

She pushed up on her elbow and look down at him. Her dark eyes sparkled against the light. “I’ve never actually met anyone’s parents before. I’ve never been that girl.”

Just like that, his Neanderthal reared to life, full force. “You know why? Because you’ve always been mine. Not theirs. Mine.”

She smiled. “I shouldn’t like that proprietary BS, but I do. It’s hot as hell.”

“You finally admitting you belong to me?” He winked and she gave his jewels a light squeeze.

“Keep it up, Superman.”

“No need to get bent out of shape, sugar—you’re literally and figuratively holding my balls right now.”

“Aww. I can’t wait to tell Josh and Tony you said that.”

God, this woman. He pinched between his eyes, laughing. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Only if I can keep touching your junk.”

“I’m never going to complain about that.”

They flipped around and climbed under the blankets, reassuming the position. One of her legs hitched up over his and he turned his face into her hair, letting himself get lost in not only her touch, but everything about her. Fucking perfection.

Then she went and topped it off with a whisper. “I think you’re my person, Brody Nelson.”

“Your person?”

She nodded and nuzzled into his chest, draping a leg over the top of his. “The one I call when I accidentally start the toaster on fire or hit a deer and start to cry. Or when I’m sick and need soup but can’t find the strength to put on pants.”

“Ah.” He smiled into the night. “Not to worry, babe—I got you covered.” Because he had a sneaking suspicion that she was his person, too.

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning came quickly, and Jenny was sure she’d never been more nervous in all of her life.

“You’re shaking.” Brody closed the truck door behind her and grabbed her hand. Before them sat a modest, suburban bungalow with light blue siding, white shutters, and window boxes. Window boxes, for God’s sake.

She twined their fingers and held on tight. “This is nice, but frankly way more wholesome than I expected. I’m afraid the walls might give way when I walk inside. There may be smoke. And fire.”

Brody pulled her along, chuckling softly. “You know I’ve been inside before, right? And the place is still standing?”

“You’re not helping.” She tried to dig in her heels, but he kept pulling her forward.

“They’re going to love you, babe. And that dress makes you look like a good Catholic girl, so you’re in like Flynn, I swear.”

She glanced down at her green and purple floral-print shift. Maybe he was right. She did look pretty Peggy Sue. Or in this case, Jenny Lynn.

“Is it too much? Maybe I should’ve worn jeans.” Crap, this family stuff was hard.

, Brody came at her, shaking his head, his hands smoothing around her waist. “You’re beautiful.” He dipped down to her ear, discreetly sliding one hand down to her ass. “I like the easy access, too.”

“What? No!” She shoved him away, but he laughed, slinging an arm around her waist to reclaim her.

“Come on, sugar. We got this.” He led her through the garage and to a side door he didn’t bother to knock at. The jovial voices inside the kitchen hit her like a gust of warm, pleasant wind and she blew out a breath. We got this.

“Son!” a voice as deep as Brody’s rang out above the others and Brody slowed down, giving her time to catch up behind him. She’d much rather stay right there, staring at his denim-clad ass like a wallflower all day, but he pulled her to his side, giving her the full view of his family sitting around the small kitchen table.

A woman with shoulder-length brown hair jumped to her feet with a hand slapped over her mouth. Brody grimaced as she rounded the table and Jenny’s heart stammered a little more unsteadily in her chest.

“Mom, seriously,” Brody muttered, but his mother’s focus never left Jenny and, by the time she stood in front of them, the older woman’s face showed every bit of her delight. Shiny eyes, flushed cheeks, and a big grin that she’d clearly passed onto Brody. Dimple in her left cheek and everything.

“You’re gorgeous.” Her hands lifted to Jenny’s cheeks, which, of course, were hot and probably a not-so-attractive lobster red. “You have soulful eyes, too.”

“Um...” Brody stuttered, then waved a belated hand between them. “Mom, this is Jenny Riley. Jenn, my mom, Lena.”

“Jenny. I like that.” Lena continued to grin and Jenny’s jitters finally gave way. How could it not? His mother thought she was soulful.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Nelson. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Brody grunted. “You two are going to get along just fine. Probably to my detriment.”

His family erupted with laughter and, in a matter of minutes, Jenny had been hugged to death and set up with a plateful of raspberry and cream crepes and cheesy potato egg bake. Brody’s plate was stacked twice as high and, by the time they finished eating, she’d heard more stories about his childhood than she could ever remember of her own.

“I really thought he’d go pro.” His father, Brian, leaned back on the kitchen chair, his bulky arms folded behind his head. Except for his mother’s smile, Brody was his father’s clone, stature and demeanor especially. “But he came home from college that first Easter with a Marine Corps recruiter and I knew he’d already made up his mind, scholarship or not.”

“I cried. God, did I cry.” Lena’s tears sprang up all over again and her mother, Grandma Brekowski, nodded along.

“Almost lost my Robert in Vietnam. Nearly broke my heart when Brody enlisted.” She glanced at her husband and smiled softly, all pale, glossy skin and short, silvery hair.

His grandfather waved a hand. “Bunch of sallies. Men are made for war!”

Brody shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to her and, beneath the table, Jenny put her hand on his leg. It’s okay.

“I heard some of your unit joined up with the one in Broken Arrow for another deployment.” His father’s salt and pepper eyebrows drew together. “Thought you’d be first in line to go.”

Brody’s body tensed and his knee began to bounce, all the while he kept his eyes trained on his empty plate. At the juncture of his jaw, a muscle ticked fast.

She hated this for him. Hated that he felt like he’d let not only Ernie and Troy down, but his family, too. And the kicker was...they didn’t even know. She wasn’t sure they ever would either. Brody was too damn proud for his own good.

“Not this time,” he finally answered, his voice hoarse. Raw. “Three times may be all I’m capable of. Hell, I’m not even sure I’ll re-enlist next year.”

His mother gave a sigh of relief and his grandma mouthed a silent prayer at the ceiling.

“That’s probably a good decision.” His father nodded, but Jenny didn’t agree. Being a Marine was in Brody’s blood. If he went out like this, he may never find the closure he needed.

“What do you say we leave the ladies to the gossiping while us men head outside to look at that tree, threatening to drop dead on my garage?” Grandpa Brekowski got to his feet, slowly and not without difficulty, batting away his daughter when she tried to offer help. “Sit down, Lena. I’m not dead yet.”

Jenny covered a smile with the back of her hand. How many times had she heard that same statement from her own mother?

“Try not to miss me too much.” Brody snuck a kiss before he pushed away from the table and followed his dad and grandfather to the door.

A sudden, unexpected surge of lust crept up her spine as she watched him go. He didn’t look any different than he did at her house or at his. Just a guy whose t-shirt and jeans clung a little too tightly to his big body. A guy who, beneath the dark ink and badass uniform, put his family first. Always. A guy who could love her like thunder and lightning at night, but become an acquiescent rain shower who ate crepes with his grandma the very next morning.

He really was human, this man she’d fallen in love with. And she wanted him even more because of it.

***

“I think we can take care of this for you today, Bob.” Hands on his hips, his father looked up at the tree with two dead limbs looming a little too closely to the back corner of the garage. “Just need some rope and a little gas and oil for the chainsaw.”

His grandfather sat on an overturned bucket, breathing harder than usual, his nod turning into a wheeze. “Yeah, I thought so,” he coughed. “Surprised they lasted the winter, to be honest.”

“Small miracles, Gramps.” Brody ruffled the old man’s shoulder on his way to his truck. He had standard-issue ties and a safety harness in his toolbox, for instances just like this. Seemed he was the go-to guy for all things height-related since he earned half of his salary in a cherry picker.

Ten minutes later, he was strapped into the harness, with his father holding onto the rope tied to the first limb. Brody climbed toward the branch with the chainsaw in hand.

“Better move back, Gramps! Just in case!” he hollered down once he had a better view of the ground. “Dad, get ready to move fast!”

He waited until his grandfather hobbled back toward the house and his dad gave him a thumbs up before he lobbed off the branch. It crashed down in the backyard, well enough away from Granny’s flowerbeds and the sandbox he used to play in as a kid.

The second branch took a little more effort to tie because the ladder only extended so far, but he finally got it fastened and went through the same drill. “Ready, Dad?”

This time his father saluted him and he laughed, glancing back at Gramps to make sure he’d stuck close to the house.

Gramps was on the ground.

“Dad!” he hollered and his dad’s attention snapped across the yard. He dropped the rope and ran, full sprint.

Brody hurried to unfasten himself and get down, all the while glancing over his shoulder.

Gramps wasn’t moving.

“Brody, hurry!” his dad yelled and, dammit, he would if he could just get off the fucking ladder.

Feet on the ground and the straps still fastened around his thighs, he ran to his grandfather and dropped to his knees, running through the protocol he’d done hundreds of times.

“Grandpa!” He shook the old man’s shoulder, but got no response. “Call 911 and go get Mom,” he shouted to his father.

The next several minutes passed in a blur of chest compressions, mouth-to-mouth, and his mother wailing from somewhere behind him. Sirens broke through his single-minded focus and the paramedics seemed to appear out of nowhere.

He crawled back on his knees as they took over, ripping open Gramps’s shirt for the AED. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe either. The fog began to tunnel in around him, darkness coming fast.

He saw Ernie lying on the ground before him. He saw Troy and his mangled body a few feet away. One leg gone, one arm bit off at the elbow. All around him, the smoke got thicker and the fire hotter. The shouting felt like gunshots in his ears and the smell of blood—some of it his—made him sick to his stomach.

“Brody,” Jenny cried softly in his ear and somehow her arms were around him, her heat at his back. She wasn’t supposed to be there. Not in this mess. Not where he couldn’t protect her. “Stay with me, baby,” she pleaded, pressing her lips to his temple and rocking him like his mother used to when he’d have bad dreams as a kid.

Only this wasn’t a fucking dream. This was his life. One screw-up after another.

“You did what you could,” she murmured. “You tried.”

But not hard enough. Never fucking hard enough.