Page 25 of Speed

“I’d appreciate it if you kept my visit here just between the three of us?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Were youreallycaught dating the wife of the team owner?”

“Don’t believe everything you read,” Brody tossed out with a smile, but I caught a glimpse of pain in his expression. I huffed, then went towards the elevators, leaving Brody to shake hands, then jogging to catch up, his hat back on his head. I sent him a sharp look. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I jammed my finger into the red button with the six on it, confused as hell about why I felt this flare of anger over Brody sleeping with some woman. I mean, if she was the wife of someone, that was shitty, obviously. But why should I care? He’d probably slept with a thousand women, all while giving guys the side-eye on the sly. Which was what I was. A sly side-eye.

“This may have been a bad idea,” he muttered.

I turned from watching myself stew in the buffed walls of the elevator. Without thinking, I kissed him hard, right on the mouth. His body went rigid, and then, he began to soften into me. Thepingof a bell and the lurch of the elevator stopping sliced into my haze enough to pull me back as the door opened. Brody stood there stunned, eyes wide, as two neighbors waited to step in.

“Hey,” I said as I exited. Brody shielded his face with his hat as we strode down the brightly lit hall in tandem, neither of us saying a word. “This is me,” I coughed out as I unlocked the door to 6-B and stepped inside. The place was tidy; the cleaning lady my father had hired when I moved in had just left. I could still smell the lemon Pledge she used to dust my coffee table. I chucked my keys onto a small table inside the door and turned to Brody, who was checking out a few family portraits on the off-white wall.

His gaze darted from the shot of me, my fathers, and my sisters at my college graduation to me. I got lost in his eyes. They were the prettiest I had ever seen on a man. Long dark lashes framed the gray. He was a little shorter than me, so he had to look up a bit. My speech dissipated. I leaned down to taste his mouth again. There was no hesitation this time. No muscles stiffening in shock. Brody “I’m Straight as a Ruler” Vance was totally into this. So into it, he spun me around as if I wasn’t five eleven, weighing in at one eighty four, and an athlete in my prime.

“More kissing,” he growled as he carded his fingers into my hair so tight it almost made my eyes water. I met his tongue stroke for stroke, bending my knees and shoving my hands up under his shirt. The skin on his back was warm, soft, and covered tight muscle. God, I loved the feel of a man’s power. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the gentle roundness of a woman, too, but there was something about this man and his rawness that made me stupid.

We took a few turns manhandling each other against the wall, my hands now on his ass as he slanted my head just where he wanted it. He leaned in to rut his cock against my hip, and I saw stars. Then, the doorbell chimed a foot from where we were groping each other.

Brody jumped back, lips swollen, dick hard, eyes glazed with lust. I probably looked the same.

“Let me…” I jerked a thumb at the door.

He nodded, then walked into my living room. Spinning from him, I peered through the peep hole to see the paperboy on the other side. Right. Yeah. Cool. I tugged my shirt down to cover my boner, fished some bills from my front pocket, and shoved the cash at little Ronnie Lewis, who gaped at the huge tip.

“For exemplary paper delivery,” I told him with a smile.

“Gee, thanks!” He raced down the hall. I shut the door, drew in a shaky breath, and turned to gaze upon the man pulling me deeper into the briny depths.

He was lost. I could relate. “I have food. We can eat. And talk. I think we should maybe not kiss again until after the talking.”

“We do seem to have problems keeping our hands off each other.” He glanced at me. I bobbed my head. “I’ve never really had this issue with a man before. I feel like I’m spinning out of control in a car I’ve never driven.”

“I get it. I feel like I’m being tugged underwater by an ivory sperm whale.” He cocked an eyebrow. It was a really attractive move on a beautiful man. I did not allow my inner voice to comment on the word sperm. Sometimes, my twelve-year-old boy managed to break free.

“Ah right, I’m your white whale,” he commented. “I like your place. My house is very different. Clinical.”

“I like my space.”

“No one comes to mine… I mean… most people are put off by who I am, or want to meet Jemima, or hang on to my coattails because of my money or…” He winced as if he hadn’t meant to say that at all. “Fuck, I have no social skills,” he added and scrubbed his eyes.

“My sisters and aunt picked it out and did the decorating.” I waved a hand at the nicely matched blue and tan sofa, armchairs, and throw rug on the floor. “When I signed my entry-level contract, I rented this place. Well, my fathers had to cosign, but yeah, it’s mine. As for your money, please, I grew up around Tennant Rowe. Tate Collins is a family friend. I grew up in a mansion with a hockey rink on the grounds, a movie theater for watching Elvis flicks, and a garage filled with pink Cadillacs and Stutz Blackhawks.”

“Good to know.”

He stared some more at the photos, but I could tell he was preparing to say something. “It worries me how young you are,” he said at last, as if he were as old as my parents.

“I’mliterallyseven years younger than you,” I huffed as I made my way to the kitchen.

“I’ve lived a lot of life,” he murmured, following me into the tiny food prep area. It was a sunny space, with herbs on the windowsill that Dad had to remind me to water every week.

“Not as much life as me it seems?”

“Maybe not.”

“How about we discuss some of that life,” I replied, then opened the fridge. “You good with a green goddess salad with chicken?” I asked over my shoulder.

“Sounds good.” He was an athlete. Or was. That whole retirement thing seemed odd, too; he got squirrely whenever someone mentioned it.

---