Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
T he blindfold over Emily’s eyes was soft, but it blocked everything. No sight, no light, nothing was getting through the thick black fabric. She bit her lip to hold in a nervous giggle as Eric and Dane led her… somewhere.
They’d left the dealership not long after Shane’s visit, and gone home to shower and change. She’d tried multiple times to engage them in sexy fun times, but to her continuing frustration, they’d rebuffed her advances each and every time.
“We need to keep our edge, baby,” Dane had told her.
At which point she had deliberately dropped her towel so they could see exactly what they were passing up. “And not fucking me keeps you on edge?”
Eric had grunted and adjusted his cock in his jeans. “You have no fucking idea.”
Then the brothers had grabbed her, Dane pinning her arms behind her back, and Eric latching one hand around her throat while using the other to torment her.
He’d thrust two fingers deep inside her pussy then used his thumb to not quite touch her clit, just rubbed slow circles around and around the sensitive little nub until her knees grew weak and she was begging them to fuck her.
“No sex. Not yet,” Eric had growled, his gaze blazing with longing and lust. “So unless you want us to keep you on edge for the next few hours, I suggest you behave yourself, kitten.”
Emily had groaned. She’d almost come from the salacious suggestion alone, but the feel of them touching her, of being trapped between her men and feeling their hard lengths pressing into her, knowing they wanted her as much as she wanted them just ramped up her anticipation for later, for the final step in The Plan.
She also suspected the whole blindfold thing was just another way to keep her on edge. They were being ridiculously secretive.
Listening for clues as to where they might be wasn’t particularly helpful.
The door leading into the building sounded pretty normal, as did the way her shoes sounded on the carpeted flooring.
The smell was familiar to her but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it—hotdogs, maybe?
—and the decades old music sounded distant and hollow, like it was coming from a large, empty room.
“Have you guessed yet?” Dane asked, his warm breath brushing against her ear.
“Um… bowling alley?” But she didn’t think that was quite right.
When the boys lifted the blindfold, Emily had to raise her hand to block the sudden barrage of lights. Flashing, twinkling lights, twirling in time with the music. Suddenly Eric was standing in front of her, using his body to block the worst of it.
“Let your eyes adjust,” he said. “There’s no rush.”
So she took a moment and did as Eric suggested, while surreptitiously taking in her surroundings and discovering they were in a roller skating rink.
A very empty roller skating rink.
So much for her public displays of affection.
“You look annoyed,” Dane said, casting a worried glance at Eric. “Why is she annoyed?”
Emily tried to school her features into something more neutral, but she’d never been very good at hiding her feelings. Her face screamed things she would never have to courage to say out loud.
Eric gripped her chin and made her look at him. “What’s going on, kitten? Why are you upset?”
She started to say, “I’m not upset,” but Eric’s hand slipped from her chin to her throat and squeezed just enough to make her think twice about lying to him.
“Don’t hide from us, baby. Talk to us.”
She hated being so easy to read. And both of her men were damn good at it.
Closing her eyes, she took a moment to breathe, to organise her thoughts. Then she lifted her chin and stared at them head on. “Are you ashamed of me?”
“What?” Their shocked expressions was some consolation at least, but she’d seen good acting before. “No, we’re not ashamed of you. Why would you think that?”
“Because you said you were taking me on a real date. I assumed that meant somewhere public. I was wrong.”
Eric relaxed and a small grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “You think we’re hiding you.” He shook his head. “We’re not.”
Emily gestured to the empty rink. “You’ll have to forgive me for thinking otherwise. Especially since?—”
She bit off what she was going to say, the reminder of past humiliations still living rent free in her head.
Images of a certain boy laughing at her when she’d dared to ask him why they never went out with his friends, why he never came over when her family was home.
When he’d confirmed her worst fears and told her she wasn’t his girlfriend, that he would never date someone who looked like her.
That he’d been told fat girls were more fun in bed, and was surprised to find out it was true.
And yeah, that shithead had a lot of fun at her expense.
“Since it wouldn’t be the first time?”
“Since Billy Houghton did the same thing?”
Her narrowed gaze snapped to Eric’s then Dane’s. “How do you know about him?”
“We’re cops,” Dane said, pressing himself against her back and nuzzling her earlobe. “We know things.”
“And did you really think we wouldn’t look into your past boyfriends after you told us you hadn’t dated anyone in almost three years.
” Eric’s deep blue gaze was as mesmerising as the commanding tone in his velvety voice.
“Why would a smart, funny, gorgeous woman remove herself from the dating scene unless she’d been hurt by someone? ”
Emily opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, her mind blank of all conscious thought because Dane chose that exact moment to grab her arsecheeks and squeeze them hard, hard enough to force her onto her toes and try to escape the fresh ache he was causing.
“Do you need a reminder of our conversation last night?” he said.
No one calls our girl names. Especially not our girl.
“You’re ours, Emily,” Eric said, “and we protect what’s ours.”
“Which is why we’re here early,” Dane chimed in, and gave her a final swat on her aching backside before moving away.
“What do you mean?” she asked, gingerly rubbing her butt.
Eric pressed a firm kiss to her lips then released her, stepped back and offered her his hand. “Come with us and we’ll show you.”
Tentatively, she took his hand and let him lead her over to the skate desk, where three pairs of skates were already lined up. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she said, but she still took the skates and began putting them on.
“There’s a roller disco here tonight,” Dane said. “We know the owner. He let us in early so we could get in some practice.”
Her lips pressed together and she rolled her eyes. “So I don’t embarrass you when I fall flat on my face, you mean.”
Dane grinned. “I think someone wants another spanking.”
“I do not,” she said, then stood up and tested her balance with the heavy skates on her feet. Then her left foot rolled forward unexpectedly and she fought to stay upright. Her mouth twisted to one side. “I don’t know about this.” Her skating ability was not great.
“Come here, kitten.”
Emily immediately covered her backside with both hands, the speed of her movement almost landing her back on the chair, and shook her head. “I don’t want another spanking,” she whined.
Eric chuckled. “No spanking. I promise. Now, come here.” He stood confidently with his skates on and held out hands out towards her.
His movements were so smooth and graceful, and made her feel even more out of place.
Even so, she attempted to do as he’d asked, awkwardly half skating, half walking towards him.
“Good girl,” he said, smiling at her without even a hint of derision or disgust, and some small part of the tension she’d been holding on to since they’d removed the blindfold melted away.
“You know, I’m really more of an armchair athlete,” she said, watching her feet, as if that would grant her magical skating powers. “I’m much better at cheering on others.”
But her men disagreed. Taking her hands in theirs, they led her out onto the rink and slowly began circling the concrete structure, holding her upright and stopping her from making a complete fool of herself.
Eric gave her gentle instruction and Dane encouraged her to be bold, and soon she was skating all by herself. Well… almost. The guys were never more than a foot away from her, ready to help her whenever she needed them.
Even in something as simple as this, they protected her.
“How are you two so good at this? I mean, Karen, yeah, I get it. But you two?”
Their sister Karen was a roller derby girl, a member of the B52 Bombshells, and Emily loved going to her bouts and cheering her on from the stands, but she never would have guessed her men were so swift of foot on eight wheels.
“Who do you think taught Kiki?” Dane laughed, and started skating backwards.
“Show off.”
“A lot of our misspent youth was spent right here,” Eric said. “Our mum had buggered off to parts unknown with her not-so-secret lover, and Dad had to work all the time, so we came here.”
“Every weekend, every school holiday,” Dane added.
“Our first jobs were here too, cleaning toilets and sanitising skates.”
Emily smiled at the thought of her men doing anything other than being cops. “That sounds?—”
“Gross?” Dane said. “Because it was.”
“I was going to say awesome, but yeah,”—she screwed up her nose—“I guess cleaning foot funk out of skates would be kinda gross.”
As they continued talking, Emily found her rhythm, learned to relax into the movements, when to push and when to glide, and she began to appreciate the music and took in the full scope of their surroundings.
A large mirror ball hung over the centre of the rink, reflecting the strobe lights and casting rainbows all over the floor and walls, and brightly coloured banners were hung up all over the place, announcing vendors and sponsors for the disco.
It was all so bright and fun and silly. A million miles away from the dark and dangerous deeds they would participate in later that night.
Emily was so distracted by her thoughts, she barely noticed Eric and Dane pull her to a stop in the middle of the rink, under the giant mirror ball. But she sure as hell noticed when they both got down on one knee.
“What is happening?” she said, the sudden panic gripping her insides making itself known in the high pitch of her voice.
“Don’t worry, kitten, none of us are ready for that question.”
“Yet,” Dane stressed, casting a sideways glance at his brother.
“Okay, so… what’s all this then?”
Eric took a breath then cleared his throat. It felt weird, seeing her strong, stoic man nervous, but when he looked up at her, his gaze held nothing but quiet assuredness. “Emily Berringer, will you be our girlfriend?”
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she stared back at them, her men, and absorbed their very serious question. Then she rolled her eyes and giggled, shook her head with affectionate incredulity. “It’s about bloody time.”