Page 4 of One Reckless Summer

My knuckles are met with rock hard muscle. My throat and mouth turn to a desert while my palms turn clammy.

His eyes leave mine, centering on Baldy as he points toward the floor. “Pick up the rest of her stuff. You made the mess, you clean it up.”

He releases my hand, tapping two long, thick fingers onto the wet table-top, nailing the now confused-looking local with a glare that has him bending without a word, picking up my keys, a hairbrush and a bottle of hand sanitizer.

Then my unexpected brother turns his attention back to me, and my nipples give him a sharp salute.

“Pack it up, sis. It’s time to go.”

He dominates the space like a century old oak, with a sturdy voice to match.

In silent irritation, baldy tosses my belongings onto the table, leaving with a final muttered grumble, stumbling as he turns, trying to gather what’s left of his pride as he saunters back toward the bar, yelling for another beer.

Heat and wetness invade the seam of my shorts as my ‘brother’s’ gaze shifts, and, to my horror, I realize I’m still pinching the three pack of Trojans between my fingers. The alcohol is making everything warm and fuzzy as the flush from my face creeps down my chest.

“You have a big night planned?” He cocks a brow as my face flames.

“No, I mean, I’ve never…this is just…” I stutter. “These aren’t for me, I don’t wear them.”

Please, mouth, stop.

Tequila and whipped cream shots did this to me.

I shake my head, mumbling unintelligibly to myself as he stares down in silence, his fingers balling and releasing.

“Got it. I’m pretty sure you couldn’t hide anything from me in those.” He gestures with a nod toward my shorts, and I glance down, tugging at the outside seem in an attempt to lessen the way they are creating a definitive indent between my pussy lips. As I fuss with my shorts, his exotic eyes take a slow walk down my legs to my boots, then back up again, lingering for a beat on my chest as he shakes his head.

He snatches the condoms I forgot I was holding from my hand, flinging them toward a trash can against the wall where they obediently fall into the pile of red solo cups and empty pizza boxes.

The way he looks at me has me rocking back on the heels of my boots, that newborn foal feeling taking hold again.

“Let’s go before I have to hurt someone.”

“Hurt someone?”

His forearms flex, and wetness floods my lower forty making me rethink the opportunity that has just presented itself.

“Yeah, you may not be my sister, but I’d take on this whole bar for you, Daisy.”

Daisy?

Lust billows through me, and never in my twenty-one years have I had this sort of reaction to a man. Nothing I felt with Greg even came close. I spent four years with him, and even with all the dry humping he seemed to enjoy so much while keeping his eyes on some live Twitch feed, I never came close to what this tall, dark and erect stranger is making me feel. My heart, my head and my tingling girl parts are awake all together for the first time, and reckless ideas start ping ponging around inside my alcohol addled brain.

“What’s your name?” I manage, swallowing the gathering saliva under my tongue, shooting Dolly a look over my shoulder to find her looking like the cream in the middle of a hoedown cookie, with a new sexy guy rocking her on his thigh and an equally sexy brunette rubbing her tits on her back while nuzzling her neck.

“Big brother,” he answers in a hoarse grunt, as Dolly catches my eye, giving me a double thumbs up, then an A-ok sign, which means, I’ll talk to you later.

“So, okay, big brother… No real names? Works for me,” I say, pausing a beat to think through what I’m about to say, then finally decide it’s time to take the bull by the horns. “How about you buy me one more drink?”

Chapter Two

Price

This dimpled little cowgirl princess with shimmering dark hair the color of my morning black coffee wants me to buy her another drink.

I should say no.

But I don’t. Instead, I’m offering her a deal.

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