Prick Tease (Tangled Desires Book 1) (7 page)

Claire

Razer stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing a hand through his mussed hair, while I’m pouring my second java of the day. It’s still early, but I’ve been up for a couple hours, going through the contracts for House to Haven and scouring the internet for anything to do with Henley or the CFN. I know it’s only a matter of time before I’ll find my face on one of the gossip magazines, but so far, all is quiet.

“Do you want coffee?” I dump three sugars into my cup and stir, the spoon plinking against the ceramic sides while he runs his gaze over me.

“Thanks, no,” he says, prowling across the room with long powerful strides. Goosebumps break out over my skin and my pulse jackrabbits at the base of my throat when he straightens the disks against my collarbone. “Was that another woman I heard this morning?” 

“Yeah, some gorgeous redhead.” There’s a dense shadow of stubble along the line of his jaw that wasn’t there yesterday, and I itch to scrape my fingers over it, but he steps around me to grab a carton of juice from the fridge.  “I thought maybe…”

He stretches out next to me, leaning against the counter, his shirt clinging to every damn muscle while he lifts the carton to his mouth.  “She was with me?”

I have to admit I’m more than a little jealous of the way the carton gets to touch his lips and I don’t. Stupid inanimate object doesn’t even know how lucky it is.

“No, she wasn’t with me,” he says.

“Well you got in kind of late.” I hide my admission behind the rim of my cup. He doesn’t need to know that I couldn’t sleep last night. That after our argument I hadn’t been able to drag my mind away from what could have happened if that woman hadn’t interrupted us. That running into the redhead this morning had made me nauseous and catty because I thought maybe she was with him. “Our Tommy seems to be a bit of a slut.”

His arm brushes mine as he scratches the back of his neck, chuckling. “I don’t think that’s what they call it when you’re a guy.”

“Oh right.” I roll my eyes, clenching my jaw. “He’s what? A legend? Just because he was born with a dick?”

“Watch your mouth, little one. Good girls don’t talk like that.”

“Well maybe I’m not a good girl.” I laugh. For so long I’ve watched my mouth, presenting the public face that’s been designed for me. It feels good to talk trash with the boys, and want things I’ve buried because that’s what’s expected of me. It’s freeing. I turn sideways, glance up at the man who’d always had a girl or two panting after him when I was younger. I didn’t have a chance back then, but then I’d been the good girl he expects me to be now. “What about you?”

“Women?” He pops the carton down on the counter and leans on one elbow while his gaze flicks from the hint of lace across my cleavage to my eyes before sliding south again. “There’s been a few.”

I don’t know why that annoys me. I expected his answer to be less subtle. Like a number, probably in the three digit range. I’m not naïve when it comes to the difference in our age and lifestyles. “Really? I can’t see it.”

“What do you mean you can’t see it?” His lips compress into a thin line. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

I push off from the counter. For all this fancy lingerie, and the way he’s doing his damndest to avoid looking at my breasts, his gaze fixating more often than not at the dip at the base of my throat, Chelsea’s spank bank plan seems to be far less effective than digging at his composure with a few well aimed taunts. “I don’t think you’d know what to do with a woman if she fell in your lap.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His gaze narrows, flicking to that hollow again and then to my lips.

“Don’t I?” I flutter my fingers over his chest. “I bet you couldn’t kiss your way out of a paper bag, let alone tempt a girl into your bed.”

His jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“Of course I do.” I’m practically purring, enjoying that he’s allowing me to continue touching him in such an overly friendly manner. I slide my hand up over the curve of his chest as I take his hand and guide it around my waist. “Unless you want to prove me wrong.”

His grip tenses. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m making it easy for you. Prove. Me. Wrong.” I punctuate each word as I press up against him, and nip his jaw with my teeth. His stubble tickles my lips and sends prickles of sensation to my core. “Unless I’m right.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.” He curses under his breath, his fingers digging into my back. The sensation he creates is not unlike being zapped by an electric current. My skin prickles, stings almost, with how aware of him I am. The closest I’ve ever gotten to feeling like this is the time Tom convinced me to grab the electric fence between our property and the cow paddock. I'd gritted my teeth, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes and never wanted to experience anything like it again. But this... the only sting is in the distance between us, the hardened jaw, the steel in his spine that holds him in check.
Give in to me, Razer.

"I’m pretty sure I do.” I peer up at him through my lashes. Lips twitching ever so slightly as I calmly press my palm to the hard wall of his chest and slide it up to his shoulder. "But you haven’t got the guts.”

I'm not calm. I'm not even remotely in control of the colony of butterflies fluttering their wings in a synchronized acrobatic display inside my belly. His gaze widens on me, his nostrils flare and I’m pretty sure he can feel me shaking despite how hard I’m fighting not to give it away.

"This isn't a good idea." I don't know if his words are meant for my benefit or his. They're barely audible before he brings a calloused hand to my jaw, tilting it up as he lowers his face to mine, still maintaining too much distance for my liking. "You’re confused, hurting because of that asshole.”

"I’m not. I know what I want," I whisper. Heat fills my cheeks, and scuttles down my neck. "And it’s not him."

It’s true. Henley means nothing to me. I don't know how I ever thought he and I would make a good match. I don't know why I said yes when he asked me to marry him. Probably because I wanted to believe in the values he stood for. Values that don't hold near as much weight now. Not when I’m looking up at the man who makes me want to throw them all away.

"All right," he says. His mouth hovers so close to mine I can feel his warm breath on my skin. My lips burn to close the gap, and I have to suck the bottom one in to wet it. He glances down to watch.

I'm so close to getting what I want, or at least starting what I want between us. If I don't act now he'll move away and I may never get to find out what kissing Razer Bennington would be like. I can't let him go without knowing the real deal. All my daydreams and fantasies of him and I are no longer enough. I surge up on tiptoe, destroying that tiny space he manages to keep between us, and then... Oh, I am so freaking naive.

I thought after his first two kisses I knew what to expect. I’d seen enough kisses, had enough practice to take on a man like Razer. But nothing prepares me for the way this man wields the weapon of his mouth.

"Claire." His voice is a groan against my lips, tracing them with his own, so soft we practically melt together. Then his arms bracket me against his chest, while he tilts my head and applies the sweetest pressure, parting my lips beneath his and touching the tip of his tongue to mine. It's almost worshipful the way he explores every inch of my mouth.

Something inside me tightens. Something I don't think I ever knew was a part of my physiology. It starts low in my belly and curls through me like tendrils of smoke, leaving me hazy with its rightness. I lean into him with a whimper, my foot curling up behind me. I always laughed at that in movies. The way they portray a great kiss as toe curling. But I get it now. I understand how intense it can be. When he darts his tongue against mine again, I meet him with my own. We're dancing now, hovering on the edge of something incredible and I find myself becoming bolder as he lets me take the lead. My fantasies are a poor man's imitation of the real thing and I can never go back.

His grip on me tightens, crushing me close. He's all heat and hard muscle, especially the part of him that pushes at my belly. He's big, I think, as I press against him. Not that I’ve got much to compare it to, but the way his erection bulges against his zipper leaves me with expectations.

I smooth my hand down the curve of his bicep, and over the plane of his abs. I can feel the dips and ridges of his six pack, corrugated beneath my palm. But I’m braver than that, aren't I? This plan of mine involves far more than letting him kiss me into a melted puddle of desire at his feet, and I really want to know exactly what he's packing below.

Sliding lower, I pass the waistband of his jeans. He groans and captures my wrist between two fingers before breaking our kiss. "You need to stop, Little Bit."

The use of my childhood nickname, shared between my brothers and him equally, is like having a bucket of ice water thrown over me. I pull in a breath and reel when I realize I’m still shaking from his kiss. But that's more than he ever planned on offering me. Razer is putting me back in the box he keeps me in. Best friend’s little sister, and for one moment, I consider stamping my foot and yelling at him like I used to when we were children. But I’m not a child anymore and I won't behave like one. "Please don't call me that."

He crosses his arms against his chest, scowls down at me. "Why? You used to like it when we were kids."

"We're not anymore. I don't want you to think of me like that."

“You need to understand something, Claire.” He emphasizes my name while he grips my chin between his fingers, and my heart stutters. He’s not as adverse to me as he wants to be. Then he dips his head and slides his lips over mine one more time before he trails a line of hot, wet kisses along the line of my jaw and up to my ear where his breath tickles my skin. “You think you know what you’re doing, but you don’t. I see through you, baby girl. You’re still a good girl. Don’t play games.”

My breath hitches, and I dart my tongue out over my lips. “I’m not playing with you, Raze.”

“Sure you are.” He lets go of me. “But you’re just my friend’s kid sister. That’s all you ever can be.”

Razer

I shouldn’t have kissed her, but she keeps pushing my buttons. Shouldn’t have let her get to me, but the way her gaze holds mine, her eyes widening, pupils dilating... I can’t get it off my mind. She’s such a fucking prick tease. Whether she’s trying to be, or whether it’s just that I’ve been fantasizing about her so long, I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure. Every look, every touch has me hard as a fucking rock.

After that kiss I clear out. Can’t stand being in the house with her and not be able to do a damn thing about how worked up she makes me. I meet with the contractor out at the old house and spend a couple hours checking out the land before a meeting with the lawyer Tom suggested. But there’s still a whole lot of afternoon where it’ll be just her and I in the house, and I can’t afford to let her get under my skin again today, at least not until I’ve worked out some of my frustration some other way.

When I walk into the gym, Tom’s talking to a couple of guys by the side of the center ring. He grins as I stalk across the room. “Come to get your ass handed to you?”

“Get me some gloves. We’ll see about that,” I say.

It doesn’t take long before we’re both slipping between the ropes and facing off. Tom gets in the first couple jabs, then I land a punch, dancing around the ring, sweaty and driven like there’s a devil on my tail. A sexy, tantalizing, untouchable devil.

“What’s got you so riled up?” Tommy blocks another hit, but I get a low sweep kick in and take his knees out from under him.

“I got the quote for demolition.”

“That bad, huh?”

I shrug and circle him while he gets back on his feet. “I’ve got it covered.”

“So what’s the problem?” He drives his fist into my gut.

“I was supposed to be in Lanston by now.”

“Nice. You got itchy feet? Or just can’t handle being around family this long?”

“A little bit of both.” I grin, flashing the mouthguard he made me put in before we started wailing on one another.

I don’t see his hook punch until he boxes my jaw, and my head snaps to the side. “So what’s keeping you here?”

“Your little sister.”

Tom roars, shaking with laughter. “Asshole, she’s your little sister, too.”

But she isn’t. She isn’t my sister. She’s just some girl I’ve wanted to get my hands on for a very long time. Not that any of them will see that. I touch her and I’m dead to them.

“Nah, it’s good you’re here.” He taps my arm with his glove. “You’re a good distraction from her problems. She hides it, but she’s fragile.”

I know he’s right, so why the hell couldn’t I keep my mouth off her this morning?

Because she’s irresistible when she looks at me the way she does. It’s fleeting, almost a brush off of sorts. Like she could care less that I exist, except…there’s a heat in them. It burns through my skin, sears my blood with the warmth. Maybe she doesn’t even realize that those bedroom eyes of hers do the exact opposite of making me want to keep my distance. And then she taunts me. Practically dares me to do what I want to her. And it’s almost impossible to stay away from her.

But I should stay away. That much is clear. Even if she wasn’t family. Even if her brothers wouldn’t have my balls for touching her, there was a timidity in the way she kissed me back, almost as if she’s never really kissed a man before. But I know that can’t be true. She was going to get married. That’s a pretty serious step to take. No, she can’t be quite as innocent as I remember.

“So Lanston? Does that mean we’ll see more of you?” Tom tosses a couple light jabs at my midsection.

“Anything’s possible.” I uppercut his jaw, and bounce around on the balls of my feet, crowing, “But then, you should have seen that coming.” 

“Whatever. I gave you a free hit.” He shifts on his feet, stretching his head from side to side. “You want to quit now, or are you ready to find the mat with your face?”