Hell no!
But that was reality, and it shredded his guts like a thousand dull razors. McCall had proposed, and she’d said yes. Jesse was happy, if his smile in the picture was anything to go by. Kimber’s picture was in profile, but she had to be happy. This was the realization of her little white lace, virgin-girl dream. While he… Hell, he’d been a fucking pissed-off wreck ever since she’d left, wrenching his heart out with her tears.
“She wasn’t ours,” he managed to croak out. “This just proves it.”
“Kimber might have stayed if you’d been decent to her. She offered you her—”
“I wasn’t taking her virginity. It didn’t belong to me, just like she didn’t!” The fact that the girl and her virginity belonged to the smiling crooner in the picture didn’t exactly thrill him. Correction: it made him want to tear McCall apart slowly, with his bare hands, and inflict maximum pain.
Lord knew the army had trained him to do it.
Luc pointed an accusing finger in his face. “You made her believe she didn’t belong with us. If you had admitted your feelings and just made love to the girl—”
“Yeah, then what? How long before she wound up like Heather?”
“She’s not Heather,” Luc insisted. “Kimber is stronger and she would have survived. I think she loved you.”
Bittersweet. That possibility made joy burst through his chest, even as fear gripped his belly and yanked hard. Damn, he was one fucked-up bastard. He wanted her, but couldn’t have her. If she’d stayed, it was only a matter of time before he would have taken her virginity. Too many risks. Too much at stake. He’d made the right choice.
It just hurt like hell.
“And then what?” Deke barked back. “Would she have married one of us? Why the fuck do you persist in this stupid fantasy?” Deke grilled his cousin. “And what about…later? I know you want her to have our babies so we could all live happily ever after. And you know how I feel about that. Besides, no woman wants to lie between two men every night and wonder which is the father of her children. We can leave petty jealousy out of a simple screw, but out of a committed relationship?
Luc, it’s a goddamned fantasy.”
“It’s no more fantasy than imagining you can fuck your way through the rest of your life with a bunch of nameless whores and not care about anyone. I want more.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “With Kimber, I know you wanted more.” Shit, Luc knew him too well. “She’s gone. And that’s it.”
“You don’t think we should fight for her?” Luc looked incredulous.
“How? She’s going to marry a superstar she’s wanted for five years. I don’t see her dropping all that just because we come knocking on her door. We need to get on with life.”
The words seemed to knock Luc on his ass. “Get on with it, just like that?” He snapped. “Pretend she was never here and that we never cared about her?”
“We tutored her. Period.”
“I adore her. You do, too. In fact, I think you love her.” He hesitated. “I don’t.”
“Liar. That’s why you were so vile to her. Anything that might make you vulnerable and force you to face the past has to be destroyed.”
“Fuck off!”
“That’s going to solve it all, right? When all else fails, yell at Luc. You know what, you’re right. Let’s get on with life.” Luc stormed across the kitchen, lifted the cordless phone, and walked out of the room.
What the hell was Luc doing? Deke almost didn’t care, given the fury bubbling in his belly. And the pain, it seared like acid on bare skin at the thought of Kimber in McCall’s bed, in his life. But he’d get over it.
He had to. What other choice did he have?
Five minutes later, Luc stomped back into the kitchen wearing a smug grin. “I hope you don’t have plans today other than to get on with your life.”
“No, it’s Sunday. What have you done?”
“I called Alyssa Devereaux and charmed her. I convinced her to fuck us. She’s expecting us at three. Get dressed.”
With a sharp pivot, Luc left the kitchen and marched down the hall. A moment later, pipes clinking told Deke that his dear cousin was in the shower.
And Deke was stunned speechless.
Holy shit. Alyssa Devereaux. Blonde bombshell, strip club owner, with legs encased in sexy stockings and naughty garters that made grown men salivate and beg. She was going to fuck them. After enduring her cutting tongue and apparent disdain, she’d agreed. For Luc, of course. She’d always wanted him. But as a perk, he’d get to sink into that tight, golden body, too. Immerse every inch of his cock into her warm, suddenly willing pussy.
Deke looked down, staring at his surprisingly unresponsive penis through his pajama bottoms.
Shock. It had to be shock. Alyssa was a walking wet dream.
Once he got near her, got her topless and those luscious tits in his face, he’d be ready. More than ready.
Right?
Four hours later, Luc pulled up in front of a little white house with climbing roses and southern charm in a residential side of Lafayette, Louisiana.
Deke frowned at his cousin. “We’re not meeting at Sexy Sirens?”
“She said to come here.” Luc got out, refusing to say another word.
Palms sweating, Deke followed.
How long had he had fantasies about nailing Alyssa Devereaux? A couple of years, at least, since his business partner and friend, Jack Cole, had introduced her to him.
He’d tried to entice her. The alpha routine had gotten him nowhere. His nonexistent charm got him knocked on his ass even before hello.
Sparring with her got him shut down every time. Usually just the sound of her name got him hard.
Today… Well, it wasn’t showtime yet. His slow response must be because he still had big, unanswered questions floating around in his brain. Like, what the hell had Luc said to get her to agree to this? And for as many times as Luc had maintained that he had no interest in Alyssa, he was suddenly really eager to be here.
Why?
Deke had no answers—to any of his questions—as he filed up the little brick walkway, past rows of colorful flowers blooming like crazy.
“Gorgeous azaleas,” Luc murmured as he rang the bell.
What the fuck is an azalea? Why were his palms sweating?
Alyssa opened the door wearing a classic black skirt with a slit to the thigh and a lace-edged, off-the-shoulder top that showed just a hint of cleavage.
“Hi, guys. Come inside.”
Deke hesitated, but stepped in after Luc and glanced at the place. Soothing shades of greens with splashes of yellow. Earth tones everywhere. Even one of those Zen garden waterfall things. Black-and-white photos of nature scenes. It all said peace.
“Thanks for having us,” Luc said. “Lovely place.” Alyssa smiled. Swallowed. “Thanks. I just bought it a few months ago. It was gutted. I’ve been fixing it.”
“It’s great.” Luc approved. It was in his voice. Deke couldn’t find his. So now what? Would they sit and sip iced tea and act all civil, or just get down to fucking?
“Do you want something to drink? I have tea, soda, coffee?” Alyssa sent his cousin a come-hither look, her hand resting above her breast, fingers toying with the soft skin at her cleavage.
“No, thanks.” No one could miss the sudden strain in Luc’s voice or the way his eyes followed her movements across the swells of her breasts.
Luc was tense and sporting a hard-on that looked more than ready for action.
Gluing his gaze to Alyssa, Deke searched for some reaction, a stirring, remote interest. Anything.
Kimber’s face swam in his mind, flushed in pleasure, mottled with tears, sweet with the offer of her innocence.
And he’d turned it down. Like a dumb, stupid prick, he’d let her walk out. No, he’d pushed her out. All but given her to McCall, whom she’d soon marry. And where would he be? Fucking alone. But Kimber was better off. He had to focus on that.
“Deke?” Alyssa sent him a curious glance.
That was the nicest expression she’d ever sent him. Usually, he got complete disdain.
“Drink?” she prompted.
He had to choose. Drink or sex? “You’re not going to call me He-Man or steroid boy?”
She winced. “Not today.”
Interesting… “Um, a drink sounds good. Whatever you have.” She sent him a nod. Or rather, her head bobbed nervously, then she took a deep breath and seemed to collect herself as she walked into the kitchen with a slow-hipped gait that was an invitation in itself, poured him a tall glass of sweet iced tea, and handed it to him.
Her hands shook as she gestured everyone to the living room sofa.
Deke sat. Alyssa sat about three feet from him, the slit in her skirt revealing very naughty black silk garters and sheer stockings. Luc sat right beside her and dropped a casual hand on her exposed thigh. The pulse at her neck jumped.
What the hell is going on here? “You’ve been saying no to me for about three years. Why yes all of the sudden?”
Alyssa blinked, her gorgeous blue eyes rimmed in smoky gray liner, her warm golden complexion lighting with a little flush. For a stripper who’d seen the seamier side of life for years, she was awfully good at the sweet girl routine.
“Have you changed your mind?”
Her husky voice jolted him. Incredibly sexy. The woman stunned. Soft eyes, glossy lips that pouted as they tempted, breasts he suspected a doctor had provided, rather than God, but enticing all the same. That wedge of thigh bared to his gaze drew his eye.
Something south of his belt buckle began to stir. “I haven’t changed my mind.” She turned to Luc with a soft question.
“I’m not going to change my mind.” His hand on her thigh tightened, traveled up, taking the skirt with it, until it rested just shy of damp black panties.
“Good.” She breathed the word.
“Deke,” Luc called to him. “Kiss her. Get that top off.” Alyssa started. “Yo—you don’t want to go to the bedroom first?” Luc stood and drew the blinds, toed off his shoes, and ripped off his shirt. “We’ll get there. Eventually.”
“Oh.” She looked dazed, and they hadn’t even touched her yet.
Then Luc shot him an expectant look. Right. Kiss her. Undress her.
Letting loose a deep breath, Deke reached out and dove into the buttons down the front of Alyssa’s blouse. Jesus, his hands were shaking as he parted the material, revealing the bountiful tits barely restrained by a sheer, strapless bra.
Gorgeous, golden breasts. He’d bet she sunbathed topless.
He removed her blouse, pausing a moment to set it on the sofa beside him. Didn’t want to wrinkle it. It looked delicate.
“Deke,” Luc snapped. “Kiss her.”
Alyssa gazed at him, her blue eyes uncertain but fevered. Luc turned her away from himself, toward Deke, then his cousin kissed the side of her neck and laid a hand on the underside of her breast. Her nipples pebbled the instant he touched her.
Under Luc’s lips, Alyssa’s posture lost its starch. She closed her eyes, moaned.
“You smell good,” Luc whispered as one flick of his wrist made her bra melt away.
“A mixture of sunshine and sin.”
Her bare tits were gorgeous. Ripe, juicy, firm. If they were fake, they were a damn fine imitation.
She laid her head back on Luc’s shoulder, gasping as his thumb flicked over one of her hard, blushing nipples.
Damn, the two of them were sexy to watch. Luc so dark, inky hair, bronze skin, caressing his way across Alyssa’s paler flesh, lifting her platinum hair away from her soft nape so he could breathe in her scent. Seeing her shudder in his cousin’s arms made him hard. Finally.
One of Luc’s hands slid under the slit of her skirt, lifted it higher, and brushed against the black silk covering her mound.
Alyssa gasped. Trembled. Moaned.
“Kiss her.”
Luc’s renewed demand hit Deke like icy water. Which made no sense. Alyssa was the personification of sex. He’d wanted to nail her for years. She was topless, willing, and getting aroused damn fast.
She isn’t Kimber.
Pushing aside the insidious voice protesting in his head, Deke didn’t just lean in, he charged, covering her mouth and urging her to open wide for him. Desperate.
Her tongue did a sensuous dance around his, slow and lazy and promising that she could give a legendary blow job. She tasted spicy and fresh.
But he was hungry for the taste of sugary innocence.
Hesitancy. Pure desire to please.
Alyssa was all enticement. Beautiful. Experienced and able to lure a man into wild sin. But for some damn reason, he didn’t want her to lead him astray.
Touching her felt…weird. Wrong.
Like he was betraying something. Someone.
Kimber’s hazel eyes, brimming with tears, splashed across the backs of his eyes.
Frustration burned. The sense of wrongness weighed a thousand tons in his gut.
