Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (16 page)

“I promise, Brodie, there’s no one else.”

“You just like to screw with my head, that it?” I slid the tips of my fingers into the back of her cut-offs, aching for skin on skin contact.

“That’s not all I like to screw with.” One of Ashe’s hands slipped beneath my shirt and my stomach muscles contracted. The other one traveled slowly over my seam-busting erection. “Anyway, one month, two weeks, four days, and seven hours
since the last time we had sex is not years.”

My head beat back against the window of my Chevy, and my hips thrust up into her light caress. My voice throbbed low, “See, you’re counting too. Let’s fuck. You know you want it, and watching you play pool makes me hot. Besides, almost eight weeks without sex isn’t just months for a guy like me. It’s goddamn dog years.”

“Where do you propose we do this?” She squeezed my cock.

“Truck,” I bit out.

“I am not fucking you in a truck. I’m thirty-one. I did that when I was seventeen.”

I raised both my eyebrows.

“Uh, I was a teenager. Don’t judge.”

“You realize in five years Cara will be a teenager?”

She dragged me to her by my shirt collar. “You
do
realize if you want to get into my pants—”

“Shorts.” Really short cut-off jean shorts that rode up almost to the crescents of her ass, the ass I held in my hands.

“—Do
not
mention my child and the teen years coming up.”

“Sorry.” I almost tacked on
ma’am
. Now I knew how Cara felt. But I wasn’t about to mention Cara again if there was the possibility of getting laid pronto.

“And I have a better idea, like I said,” Ashe added.

I perked up at that.

She slid her hand slowly up and down my cock as she stood on tiptoes and set her lips against my ear. “Show me what you do after you drop me off at home, all hot and horny, because I know you think about me riding you, sucking you, fucking you when you jerk off.”

“Kinky,” I grunted, holding her palm against me.

“I would love to watch you stroke this thick cock for me until you come everywhere, Brodie.”

“Deal.” After boosting her inside the pickup, I hurried around to the other side.

With the seat back and the steering wheel tilted up, I waited for her to tell me what she wanted.

“Unzip your pants and show me.”

My breathing was out of control and my cock so stiff it hurt. I pulled open the top button and unzipped as ordered, watching Ashe. Her hooded eyes glowed from the streetlights. A bead of sweat rolled down my chest and I tugged up my shirt. With one hand I reached inside my jeans and pulled out my dick, curling my hand around the base.

“What next?” I asked in a low rough voice.

“Balls too. I want to see your balls.”

I lifted them out and fondled them for a second.

“Gather all that precome onto your fingers and glide your fist up and down your cock.” Ashe’s voice became even breathier. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly.

I did as she told me, grunting as I slowly stroked up and down. Ashe wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, and I groaned. When my fingertips ran across the frenny piercings she moaned softly. I twirled the ball piercing at the tip of my dick, looking down at the hard shaft flexing in my hand.

Rigid, thick, incredibly hot, my cock stood straight up from the base of blond pubes. I curled my fingers just beneath the bulging head and squeezed until more drops of liquid welled from the slit.

“Please touch me, Ashe.”

She shook her head. “I want to watch you come for me.”

“Then touch yourself.” My thighs were quaking, and I leaned my head against the back of the seat, pumping my hips and thrusting my cock up through my fist.

Ashe’s hands shook as she untied the bow behind her neck. The top dropped, propelled by gravity until it hung, hooked on her raised nipples. Skimming her fingers over the round mounds of flesh, she rolled the halter down to her waist with an arch of her back. There was no bra underneath. Her tits looked full and creamy, the tips deep pink and swollen. She threw her head back as she thumbed the buds, pinching and rubbing them.

“Oh, God, Brodie,” she whimpered.

“I wanna suck them.”

“No.”

“Wanna come on them, cover those sexy tits in come.”

Her breathing sped. She spread her thighs and left one hand to play with her breasts, the other sliding between her legs. With unsteady fingers, she undid her shorts. She plunged her hand inside into what I knew would be a hot, wet, tight cunt. I heard the moisture as she fingered herself inside her shorts.

“Holy fuck,” I groaned.

Dragging my palm around and around the head of my cock, I gripped and stroked with the other hand.

“
Ohhh
.
Oh
, Brodie.
Mmm
. Are you going to come for me?”

“Yeah.” My voice turned rough.

She slid her fingers out and pushed them—slick and tasty—into my mouth.

“Oh fuck yeah!
Uh uh uhhh
, Ashe!” I came all over, pumping my cock and shouting so loud my voice broke. My hips lifted off the seat as white heat blew through me. “Motherfuck!”

When I opened my eyes, Ashe stared down at my stomach and dick, streaked in come. Her face was flushed, her tits heaving, nipples straining. Leaning over me and lowering her head to my lap, she licked away the white cream. She sucked it from my cock and stomach and balls.

Tangling my hands in her hair, I drew her to my mouth. I pulled and tugged on those nipples she’d teased me with. Then I slipped my palm into her shorts, under her panties, and thrust into her silken heat with three fingers until she came with a long moan.

Ashe collapsed into her seat, staring at me with dazed eyes.

I grinned back at her. “Fuck. My truck will never be the same.”

Then she got a pleased look all over her face. “What was that I said earlier about outranking you everywhere?”

“Huh?”

“Did you or did you not just do everything I ordered while you masturbated for me?”

I scowled at her before breaking out in a smile. “And did I or did I not get exactly what I wanted, which was my fingers inside of you and you shouting my name when you came all over my hand . . . in my truck?”

“Ugh,” she groaned.

“And we’re completely on the same page once and for all: We’re exclusive.”

“Shit.”

“That’s right, babe.”

****

Boomer slammed into my office two days later, nearly jerking the door off its hinges. This was getting to be a habit. I needed to start using the lock.

I spun my open laptop around to show a page on Chop Cult forum. “Not porn.”

“Don’t care. Go ahead and watch porn. Have a girlfriend if you can keep her. Fuck it, get married if you want to.” He smiled at me. Not the Jack Nicholson “Heeere’s Johnny”
smile either, but one that was—holy shit—pure happiness?

This was weird.

Sitting up straighter, I squinted at him. “Boomer, are you on drugs?”

“Nope.”

“Not dying of a terminal disease, are you?”

“Nothing wrong with me.”

I settled in for a glare. “Then spill.”

“You know how Cat wanted a couple weeks off?” Boomer took the seat across from my desk.

“Yeah.”

“Check your phone recently?” His sky blue eyes actually . . . sparkled?

I thumbed on my iPhone, keeping one eye on him. I flicked to my messages. Then I jumped from my chair, staring at the screen. “Fucking hell, Boomer!”

“Exactly.”

Full Tilt

DAMN RIGHT LITTLE SIS had been hiding something. A big fucking secret, it turned out. She and Nick had planned a whole goddamn wedding coup. I stared at the photo on the screen of my phone, pretty sure my jaw had just hit the floor.

“They’re in Vegas,” I said.

“Yep.”

“Hitched.” I wiped a hand down my face and stared some more.

“Looks like it.”

“Why that little—”

“Wifey.” Boomer hovered next to me wearing a huge grin.

Goddamn.

“Wait. Is that Janice with them? The writer lady they stayed with out in New Mexico?” I asked. “She’s one of the touchy-gropey women from Nick’s group of hen-peckers, right?”

“Best as I can recall, and the best woman
and
best man it looks like.”

“Best hippy more like.”

The three of them stood outside Graceland Wedding Chapel. Janice off to the side, dressed in a peasant skirt, arms loaded with bracelets, wearing her round Lennon sunglasses. Cat and Nick held each other, front and center, smiling. She wore a short, simple white dress, no veil. Her arms bare, the inked flowers and sugar skulls adorning her skin absolutely perfectly her. Nick had on a suit, and he looked like he was never going to take his hands off Cat again.

Next to them, their motorcycles leaned side-by-side, decked out in white streamers.

“How the hell’d they get their bikes out there so fast? No way could they have ridden.” I scrolled through more photos, shaking my head.

“Flew them out, riding them back.”

“Extravagant.”

“Considering they didn’t have any wedding costs, they can afford it, right?” Boomer took my phone and thumbed through some more pics of the happy couple’s nuptials. “Check this out.” He shoved the phone back at me.

“Elvis? Seriously? Elvis performed our baby sis’s wedding ceremony.” I snorted.

“She never did things the normal way, did she?”

I sat in my chair, rubbing a finger along my mouth. “Guess not. Should’ve expected this.” I jerked upright. “Did Janice ride her mustang to the wedding?”

“Mustang car?”

“No, dude. Her freakin’ horse she keeps at that Writer’s Retreat-slash-Ranch set-up.”

He laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least. Are you mad at Cat?”

I took stock of the situation. I’d have liked to see Boomer walk her down the aisle. I would’ve loved being there for her big day because I knew she and Nick were for keeps, but how could I fault them for doing something to celebrate their love when I was beginning to want the same thing myself?

Instead of answering Boomer, I sent a text to Cat:
Y’all suck.

Boomer barked a laugh.

Then I quickly texted again with a grin on my lips:
Way to go. Congrats!

“Right on, bro.” Boom slapped my back then hauled me up out of my chair for a dude-hug.

“Let’s get her on FaceTime,” I suggested.

Cat and Nick answered the buzz, both their faces filling the screen, Nick whispering in Cat’s ear.

“Are y’all pissed?” she asked.

I scowled at the wedded couple. “Maybe.”

“Because Nick wants to know if you still have a grave marked with his name before we decide whether or not we’re ever coming home again.”

Boomer swung my laptop around to face him. “Couldn’t be prouder, Cat. You too, Nick. You done good. Don’t let Brodie give you any lip. Remember, you can always key his Harley again if he goes too far.”

“Douche.” I shoved him on the side of his head and grabbed the laptop back. “Are you in love?”

“Yes,” Nick answered.

“Happy?”

“Never been happier, Brodie.” Lifting Nick’s hand in hers, Cat kissed his wedding band.

My voice became gruff. “Then I’m not mad. But we’re having a party when you get back.”

“On the beach,” Cat said.

Perfect.

“Congratulations, Cat. Mom and Dad would be really proud.”

She choked something out with tears in her eyes but a smile on her face before she rang off.

“Holy shit.” I closed my laptop, and Boom sat on the side of my desk.

“No doubt.”

“I can’t believe we’re related to someone with the fake last name ‘Love’.”

“Cat Love? Catarina Loveland? Has a nice ring to it.” He folded his arms over his chest, looking larger than ever.

“Speakin’ of rings, did you see the rocks on her wedding band? Dude’s loaded.”

“No doubt. It’s really gonna hurt next time she slaps him across the face with her new diamonds.” His eyes positively gleamed.

“Yeah. He’s fucked, isn’t he?”

We shared a chuckle, just this side of wicked.

Squeezing my shoulder, Boomer stood up. “Know what I really can’t believe?”

“What’s that?”

“You’ve got almost all his books too.” He shook his head as he strode to the door.

“Fuck off. They’re addictive. Besides, I’m helping support their
extravagant
lifestyle by buying his books.”

“Yeah. You keep tellin’ yourself that, bro.”

His snicker spilled back to me from the hallway.

****

Boomer knocked on the door of my bedroom a week and a half later at the very beginning of August.

“Enter,” I called.

I stood at the mirror, adjusting my throat-choker aka tie for the umpteenth time. “We’re gonna sweat our balls off, you know?”

“A small price to pay for Cat’s happiness.”

“Really? Tell me that in a couple hours when there’s an inferno in your crotch.”

He appeared next to me in the mirror. His light tan suit stretched across his massive shoulders, and I thought he’d even run a brush through his short black hair instead of the usual halfhearted finger-rake.

My pale gray suit wasn’t too shabby either. Just because Cat had eloped didn’t mean we weren’t taking the reception-cum-beach party seriously. I’d brushed my fucking hair, too, leaving it free instead of tied low with a leather band. The tie was killing me though.

Boomer brushed my hands aside. “You suck at this.”

“Fuck you very much.”

He made quick work of a fancy knot I’d never get undone later. Then he tapped my cheek. “There ya go. Ashe should be impressed.”

“Oh yeah? And who’s panties are you trying to get into?”

Boomer frowned. “Nobody’s.”

“So that means definitely somebody.” I rubbed my hands together. “I can’t wait to find out.”

I patted some cologne on my neck and passed it to Boomer. “We rock the suits though.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“I wish Mom and Dad could be here for this.”

“I think they are, somehow.” Boomer dug into his pocket then pulled at my wrist. “And there are these.”

He bent over and worked a pair of links into my cuffs. They shined on my shirtsleeves when he finished. Gleaming white palmetto trees and the crescent moon set inside lapis lazuli with gold trim.

“From Dad, you see?” Boomer nodded at me.

I swallowed hard and fast. “Yeah. That’s good. Real good. Thanks, Boomer.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He wrapped an arm around my neck. “I saved the best ones for me.”

“Schmuck.” I punched him in the ribs before taking the cufflinks from his palm and rolling them in my hand. They were the custom-made Retribution ones with the skull and scales. They were Dad’s other favorite pair, besides mine with the Palmetto State insignia.

I tucked them through the buttonholes and stood back to look at Boomer.

“Tryin’ to impress someone?” I asked.

He chewed on the corner of his lip, not meeting my eyes. “Nope.”

“
Riiight
. I’m out of here. Going to pick up my date while you fly solo.”

“I’m happy for you and Ashe, you know?”

I swallowed roughly again. “See you at the beach, brother.”

And about ten minutes later, I almost swallowed my damn tongue when Ashe walked out her front door.

“Another dress,” I said.

Her heels clicked on the porch, and she smoothed her palms down her front like I wanted my tongue to do without any material between her skin and me. The dress swayed around her hips, hit a couple inches above her knees, and showed off most of her long, tan legs. It was pink. Tight at the waist and—
good Lord
—tighter at the tits. It pushed up her breasts and made my mouth water. Forget about the shoes—heels, stilettoes, whatever. They were so high she almost brushed my chin. The straps ran across her ankles, and her toenails were pink, too.

Holy hell.

“Special occasion.” Ashe moved against me. “And you, in a suit? My, oh my.” Her fingertips traced from my throat to my tie, and down my arms to the tattoos peeking beneath the dress shirt onto the backs of my wrists. The serpents and skulls. Her deep gray eyes drifted to mine. “That’s really sexy, Brodie. And you shaved your goatee?” She slid her hand along my jaw, lighting every single nerve in my body on fire, making my cock go full throttle.

She kissed my chin and then my mouth, softly slipping her tongue inside. My brain went on permanent vacation as all my blood traveled south to my groin. She leaned back in my arms after a small suck on my tongue.

“
Uhhh
.”
Really?
That was all I was capable of. Then I repeated, “You’re wearing a dress.”

“This is a dress. You are my date. My hot, hot date. Are you ready to go?”

“So you’re good to stay the night at my place?”

She reached back and lifted two bags, both the size of Texas. “Does this answer your question?”

I grinned like an idiot. I was getting some tonight. “I’ll get ’em.”

Handing over one duffel, she kept the leather bag slung over her shoulder. “This is my purse.”

“What the hell’s in there?”

“The usual, what do you think?”

“Handcuffs included in the usual?” I drew up an eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

Fuck yes.

****

We met Cat and Boomer at the top of the boardwalk leading to a bought-for, paid-for private stretch of Isle of Palms beach. Ashe hugged my sister and exchanged a few quiet words before blowing me a kiss and walking away to join the late afternoon party crowd at the beach.

I’d barely had a chance to see Cat since she and Nick returned—both suntanned and glowing and . . . married all of a sudden. I swooped her into my arms, planting a big smacker on her cheek.

Setting her down, I squinted at her. “Why didn’t you wait?”

“Myra hasn’t been doing well. She’s terminal, we all know that. Nick and I wanted to get married quickly so she wouldn’t worry about us. So she would . . . ” Cat dropped her head and her shiny black hair swung around her face. “We want her to know when she dies we’ll be lawfully together. Forever.”

I cupped Cat’s shoulders. “You made a good choice then.”

When she lifted her face, something twinkled from her ears in the sun. I brushed her hair aside and touched one of her earlobes.

“Mom’s earrings,” I said, looking at the dainty opals suspended on platinum links. Not our sister’s usual hoops, daggers . . . skulls and crossbones.

“They’re supposed to be for luck. Unless they crack. I think. I could use all the luck I can get.” Cat dipped her eyes. “I hope it’s okay with you two.”

“Hey. They look good on you.” I grabbed her in a hug before passing her to Boomer who blinked at the sparkling horizon instead of the pretty gemstones in her ears.

“Okay? It’s awesome. Besides, we’ve got Dad’s cuffs on today,” Boomer intoned in a gruff voice.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Glad you’ve forgiven yourself, sis.”

“I’m not sure I have.” Her wet eyes glazed over.

Boomer cleared his throat. “’Bout time you did, don’t you think?” He included me in his gaze. “’Bout time we all did.”

The sun’s rays set the opals on fire, and we three looked at each other. Time to let go. To forgive. To move on. Sometimes a moment did that to you: A wild fast run on your bike. Unspoken memories shared. A woman who came out of nowhere and suddenly meant everything.

Boomer released Cat from his embrace. “We ready? Because I don’t want to be the one mopping up Brodie’s sappy tears before we even get you to the beach.”

Cat turned around, faced the ocean, and hooked out her elbows. “Ready.”

We hadn’t been able to walk her down the aisle, but we were for damn sure going to walk her down to her man, one brother on either side of her. The afternoon was sultry, the sun making a disco ball glittering reflection of the ocean.

Sultry?

Screw that.

It was downright hostile hot. Cat’s flip-flops flapped on the wooden boardwalk. In fact, she was wearing a casual sundress while my balls sweltered inside my furnace of a suit, like I’d told Boomer.