Homewrecker (Into the Flames #1) (5 page)

“I really think more alcohol is the last thing you guys need,” I joke. After handing Gunnar his bottle, I turn to give Dixon his and instead of just taking it, he grabs it and then grabs my hand, pulling me into his side.

“Everybody keeps tellin’ me I need a wife. Can I just borrow yours for a while?” Dixon slurs. Yeah, more beer is probably the last thing they need, but I’m not their mother. Plus, they’re entertaining as hell right now. “She brings booze and she’s a master sammich artist. She’s the perfect fuckin’ woman.”

Gunnar looks up from whatever he’s working on and laughs, not paying any attention to the way his best friend has me tucked into his side with his arm wrapped around me. “Whatever.” He shrugs. “As long as you bring her back in the same condition she leaves in.”

I know most women would be offended when their husbands agree to let their best friend borrow them, but we all know it’s a joke. Years of friendship between all of us let us make those stupid jokes without anyone taking it to heart. I also know by the way Gunnar’s eyes are starting to droop that he’s past drunk and close to shit faced. It won’t be long until he’s passed out somewhere. Dixon, on the other hand, has been eyeing the bottle of Knob Creek on top of the fridge every time he comes inside. He’s up for the long haul, and he’ll be here until he’s sober enough to go home.

I wiggle out of Dixon’s grip, pulling away from his sweaty, tattooed skin, and step up behind Gunnar. Sliding my arms around his bare chest, I press my lips against his shoulder and breathe him in.

“As much as I like watching you with no shirt on,” I whisper into his ear. “I thought this wasn’t supposed to take very long?”

Before I know what’s going on, Gunnar has me pulled in front of him and pinned against the fender of the truck. His grease covered hands slide into my hair and he kisses me. I melt into him, but like always, the kiss I expect to be rough and breathtaking, is way too soft and gone too fast.

“Love you,” he says before stepping back and heading into the garage.

I shake my head and look toward Dixon for answers instead. “How much longer so I can feed you two?”

He squints at me as he lights the cigarette hanging between his lips and laughs. “We fixed the problem a few hours ago. He’s just fuckin’ around now to see what he can to do make it a big boy truck.”

“No!” I yell over my shoulder. “How many times do I have to tell you? We’re not souping up the damn truck.”

“This is why I don’t have a wife, man. I do whatever the hell I want with my money.”

I rest my hand on my hip and take a swig off my beer without looking away from Dixon. “You’d fucking love to have a wife like me, admit it.”

Dixon steps up to me, steals my beer from my hand, and finishes what’s left in the bottle. “I’d have to have a heart before I could love someone, sweetheart. However, I love beer because it doesn’t have expectations for me. And that bottle of Knob on top of the fridge… yeah, I’m about to love the fuck outta that because it won’t judge me when I don’t call. These cigarettes,—” he takes a drag and blows the smoke into the air “—I love them because I don’t have to listen to them nag at me for a lifetime before they kill me.”

With that, he turns on his heel and heads into the house. I have no doubt that he’s headed straight to grab that bottle off the fridge. Gunnar’s arms wrap around me from behind and he rests his head on top of mine.

“One day that fucker’s gonna fall for someone again and I’m gonna laugh so hard when it happens.”

“The Tin Man with a heart.” I chuckle. “I’ll keep my eye out for a wizard. Now, come inside and I’ll feed you so you can pass out.”

Dropping his arms, he steps back and slaps my ass, cheering as he walks by me. “I knew I married you for a reason.”

Taking a deep breath, I grab the tools and cell phones off the engine before slamming the hood closed. The last thing we need right now is something else to break because the drunk asses forgot something in there, or to lose a phone. This is what I’m here for after all. To cook and clean up after him. I bet I’ve got that
Best Wife Ever
award in the bag this year.

Shaking off the ache that settles in at the thought of always being stuck on the hamster wheel instead of getting to the place I always pictured Gunnar and I would be, I head inside and grab another drink. I’m not going to let the fact that I feel like I’m losing myself ruin my night off.

***

“He lasted longer than I expected,” Dixon says as he comes up behind me and drops the now empty bottle of Knob Creek into the trash beside me.

I look over my shoulder and shake my head. Gunnar is sprawled across the couch, one leg over the back, the other on the floor, and his hat pulled down. The only thing I can see on his face is his wide open mouth. It’s a funny sight, but now I have to figure out how to get him from where he is to our bed so Dixon can have the couch until he’s sober enough to drive.

“I’m not carryin’ that fucker,” he barks out with a laugh as if he could read my mind. “I’ll just call a cab and go home.”

“Are you stupid? A cab will ass rape you and your wallet.” His eyes slide shut and he’s almost still long enough for me to think he’s asleep standing up, but then his chest starts to shake with laughter.

“You have a filthy mouth sometimes. I love it.”

“If you’re just realizing that, you need more help than I can provide.” Searching through my purse, I grab my keys to Gunnar’s truck and head toward the couch, talking over my shoulder as I go. “I’m sober enough to take you home and he can come get you tomorrow and bring you back to get your truck.” Dropping down beside Gunnar, I shake him gently. “Baby, wake up.”

It takes a few tries, but he finally groans. “What?”

“I’m taking Dixon home, I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Rolling away from me, he kicks his shoes off and waves me off. “K.”

When I stand up and look through the opened door, I see Dixon’s already out in the truck. Walking out, I climb up and slide in next to him, adjusting the seat and the mirrors. Dixon, who is usually mouthy and constantly talking, sits silently and stares down at his hands.

“I probably shouldn’t let you take me home,” he mumbles so low that I almost didn’t catch it.

“Why not?”

His head snaps up and he stares at me like he didn’t realize I was there. After a minute he shakes it off, so I do the same and pull out of the driveway. It’s not the first time in our friendship that he’s made some off the wall comment without being able to explain what he meant, so I chalk it up to drunken ramblings. That’s probably one of the tamer comments anyway.

By the time I pull up into his driveway Dixon is passed out and I’ve realized that I’m not as sober as I had originally thought. I throw the truck into park, shut it off, and jump out, wobbling a bit at first. The cool air helps to wake me up a bit as I round the truck and pull open the passenger side door.

“Wake up, asshole, you’re home.” I poke at him until he finally wakes up enough to slide out. His arm wraps around my shoulders and he leans on me. One step at a time, I help him up the stairs and through the door. Dixon attempts to kick the door closed behind us, but does nothing but throw us off balance and send us stumbling.

“I’m good!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air when he straightens up. “I’m good, but I need to go to bed.”

“You gonna make it up those stairs, drunky?”

Dixon looks between me and the stairs and shakes his head. “I think I need my foul mouthed sober crutch to help me.”

“I’m not sober, Dixon. I thought I was, but about halfway here it all hit me.”

His eyes narrow, his mouth pressing into a hard line. “And you kept driving?”

“If I had stopped, the cops would have pulled up behind us and then what?”

He stares at me for a minute before shaking his head. “I need to go to bed.”

Taking advantage of the subject change, I step up next to him and help him up the stairs. I figure I’ll flop him into bed, make sure he’s good, and then sleep off this alcohol in the truck before heading home. It takes us a few minutes for us to get up the stairs and into his room, but we finally make it. Dixon drops down on the edge of the bed, unlaces, and toes off his boots.

“You good?” He nods and I turn to leave.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Home.”

“I don’t fuckin’ think so,” he growls. “I’m pissed as a mother fucker that you didn’t wake me up when you realized you weren’t good to drive. Lay the fuck down and sleep it off.”

I stand there and stare at him. His words shock me, but it’s not that he’s telling me to climb into bed with him that gets me, it’s the fact that he sounds mad at me. In all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve seen him pissed off, but never has it been directed toward me. When I don’t move, he stands up, grabs me by the hips, and easily tosses me onto the bed.

“Give me your phone,” he demands. Without hesitation this time, I hand my phone over to him. He slams his thumb against the screen a few times before putting it to his ear and waiting. “Hey, Gunnar, your wife’s a drunk idiot. She’s stayin’ here until she’s sober because I don’t want the fuckin’ call to come scrape her God damn ass off the highway. She’ll be home in the mornin’.”

After hanging up, he tosses the phone at me and shakes his head. Turning around, he disappears into the bathroom for a few minutes before returning in nothing but a pair of shorts. He drops a shirt and pair of shorts on my legs and I scramble to get up before I piss him off even more.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble as I pass him.

“I offered to take a cab,” Dixon bites out.

“I thought I was all right to drive. It won’t happen again.”

Before I even realize he’s moving, he has me pinned between the wall and his chest. The look in his eyes isn’t something I’ve seen there before. It’s like he’s at war with himself inside his head. “You’re fuckin’ right it won’t happen again! I’m not losin’ you because of somethin’ stupid!”

“Dixon—”

My thought is cut off when he slams his mouth down against mine. I completely freeze because the man kissing me isn’t my husband. He’s been one of my best friends since we were kids, but nothing like this has ever happened between us and I’m not sure how to handle it. The safe, sane, and rational part of my brain is screaming at me to push him away; but the other side, the risky side that realizes that I’m losing myself because Gunnar’s needs always comes first, screams at me to give in. When I open my eyes, Dixon is staring as he attempts to kiss me, waiting for me to decide what I’m going to do. The second I give in to the risky side of my brain, he knows it.

He pulls back, but just barely. “God damn it, Kennedy, kiss me back. I know you fuckin’ want to. I saw the look in your eyes when he kissed you today, somethin’ is missin’. Let me give you everything he can't.”

He's right, something is missing between us, but I can't tell him that. This time when he slams his lips against mine, I give in and open up to him. I let him set the pace because I’m so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t even know what to do with my hands. It’s almost as if my brain shorted out the second he pushed me against the wall. Thankfully he doesn’t wait for me to figure out what I’m doing. He grabs my wrists and roughly pins them against the wall above my head as he continues to kiss me. His free hand roams down my side and shifts the hem of my shirt out of the way so he can get to my skin.

Everything about this feels different than what I’m used to. Where Gunnar is—and always has been— soft and gentle, Dixon is the complete opposite. Everything about him is rough, and for some reason, my entire body is burning because of it. I want the forcefulness of it without having to ask for it, and that’s what Dixon is giving me.

Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, he bites down, dragging his teeth across it as he pulls back.

Standing to his full height, Dixon stares down at me with fire burning in his eyes. He lets go of my hands but something inside me makes me keep them above my head. Slowly, as if he’s waiting for me to suddenly change my mind like I should, he drags my shirt over my head and drops it. His fingers settle on the button of my shorts.

“These fuckin’ shorts have been taunting me all day.” As he lowers the zipper with one hand, his other tips my head out of the way so he can nip his way down my throat. “All. Fuckin’. Day,” he growls between bites. “All I wanted to do when you were playing with that damn hose earlier was to push you to the ground and lick you clean. Mainly your pussy with my tongue.”

The fact that he’s talking about me taunting him shocks me because I’m a far cry from his usual size twos. I blow out a shaky breath when my shorts hit the floor because I know there’s no going back after this. I finally drop my hands, allowing myself to touch him. My hands settle on either side of his ribs, one covering the face of the Tin Man that takes up his left side, the other covering a portion of the fallen firefighter tribute on the right.

“Quit thinkin’, Kennedy.”

Easy for him to say, he isn’t the one putting a marriage in jeopardy.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your name. You’ll go home tomorrow so sore. Every time you move, you’ll think about filthy things I did to you.”

I groan. This is what I want. I want the rough, the filthy. I want to be consumed by the thought of the things that are done to me. I’ve just never had the guts to ask for it with Gunnar. Maybe this is what I need. A one time, no strings night that gives me everything I don’t get at home. Maybe if I get it it’ll be out of my system I’ll be OK.

“I don’t need you to tell me yes or no, Kennedy. I know you want this. I can feel it. You burn when I fuckin’ touch you. Your breathing gets harder. And I bet if I reach between your thighs, you’re wet just from thinkin’ about what I’m gonna do to you.”

I start to nod but am cut off when he kicks my legs apart a bit and his hand slides under the edge of my panties. My jaw falls slack and I’m not even sure what to call the noise I make when he easily thrusts two fingers into me and begins grinding his palm against my clit.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he smirks down at me and licks his lips. “You’re gonna get your ass on the bed and spread your legs so I can taste you.”