make the words have a bite, they come out more like a breath.
“I definitely owe you for that one.” I let myself breathe in the vanilla-and-strawberry scent of her hair. My blood pounds hard in my veins, and I draw her a fraction closer.
Fuck. The way her head falls back…I want to drag my mouth along her throat and lick her. My dick is throbbing now, and my hands are tightening on her upper arms.
Then she seems to realize where she is and pulls back, swallowing hard and giving me her infamous bland look. “Well, get the money and let’s go. Time’s ticking.”
I pretend like I’m not raging to kiss her mouth hard and give an easy grin. “Stop trying to seduce me—we could already be at the store by now.”
Her face twists, and then she barks out a laugh. “You’re something else, Jax. I know you believe that charm works on every woman, but you need to understand that it won’t work on me. I’m immune to you.”
But there’s a light flush in her cheeks. Her breath is coming out in small pants, and if I’m not mistaken, her nipples are beaded.
Oh, Brooklyn tells herself she’s immune, but she’s not.
Challenge accepted, darling.
I’ll let her think right now that she’s in control, that I believe her words. But her body gives her away. This girl aches to be touched, licked. Fucked.
I open the safe and take out a thousand bucks. That should be enough to cover two gold rings. The bands looked simple in the picture Brooklyn showed me. If that isn’t enough, fuck it. I’ll figure out a good cover story.
We pull back into the hotel parking lot with twenty minutes to spare. I feel like I just ran a marathon and won first place. My heart is racing with adrenaline. Even Brooklyn’s on edge, keyed up from our success.
The store had the rings in stock. Yeah, we had to use our own hands to try them on and guess the right size—that was kinda fucking surreal, putting on wedding bands with Brooklyn—but shit got done, and here we are.
I take the bag from Brooklyn’s lap, remove the rings from the boxes, and put them in my pocket.
“Are you sure they’re safe there?” she asks me. “If you lose these—”
“If I lose these, just take me out back and shoot me.”
We both laugh, and our eyes linger on each other for a long moment.
Something about sharing the frantic nature of this task allowed Brooklyn to let her guard down, let her walls down. She’s not looking at me like the enemy anymore. Instead, I see glimpses of her peeking at me when she thinks I’m not looking. I see her shifting in her seat, like she’s uncomfortable in her own skin.
Unfamiliar with feeling this type of intense arousal.
The thought that I’m doing this to her makes my own lust roar to the surface. I’ve never had this kind of reaction to a woman before, and I don’t quite know what to do with it. I want to plunge inside her so badly, let her see what she’s missing.
“Well, I guess it’s showtime,” I say. “Gotta get in my tux and help my brother marry the woman of his dreams.” I give a wry grin. “Best of luck to him.”
“Best of luck to her,” she retorts, then exits the car and saunters off to the hotel. I watch her walk away, the sway of her hips in that dress, the curve of her calves, her sensible flats.
Brooklyn is a challenge, that’s for sure. I wonder how she is with a couple of drinks in her…will she loosen up? I’m going to make her dance with me tonight. Tell her it’s my payment for her decorating the car—that should fire her up for sure, have her talking about my arrogance again.
I smirk and exit the car too, then head to my room and get my tux on. I’m careful to make sure I keep the rings in sight.
As I dress, reality sinks in. Smith is fucking really doing this. He’s going to get married. Everything will be different now. My brother is living his own life, and I’m happy for him, I guess. But I thought we had a good thing going, just us three brothers—three bachelors.
I tighten the bow, feeling like the fucking thing is strangling me, and exit my room to give my brother away to the woman of his dreams.