6. Magnetic North
magnetic north
Mirren
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Though it does.
It’s the kindest possible no I could receive. It makes my brothers feel superior while not making me less than. And it stops the madness that is my overbearing, overprotective family, and me poking them simply for shits and grins.
“Forty.”
Oh. He’s Charlie’s age-ish.
“Yeah.” I nod as if I can relate. “Forty probably can’t keep up anyway. Erectile dysfunction issues and all.” I look past him to my eldest brother. “Ain’t that right, Skipper? But they make pills for it, so don’t lose hope, okay?”
The men across from me preen. The ones to my side whip their heads my way with incredulity. My brother looks appalled. Strider looks like I threw down the gauntlet, and he wants to show me how wrong I am.
Game fucking on.
It’s Davie who checks into the conversation to absolutely no one’s surprise. “Are your sisters this much trouble, Strider? Or is it just ours who is problematic?”
He shakes his head and turns his focus to Davie.
His words, though… they’re for me. “No. It’s just you.
My oldest doesn’t have the fire to bring anything like this one.
” He hitches a thumb in my direction. “And the youngest doesn’t even swear.
She’s engaged to a man who would fit right in with you lot, though. ”
“So just ours then,” Davie confirms.
“I’m guessing you shouldn’t need to worry, though. A Ranger can handle herself.”
“This Ranger doesn’t need to be talked about like I’m not in the room,” I interject, a little harsher than I mean it.
“In fact, I think I’ll head home.” I want to add Thanks for nothing, but I know better than to come off petulant.
I slide off the stool and am almost to the door when Jamie calls for me.
“Scooter? Text us when you get there.” He waits for confirmation. He must see what he needs from me because he removes his hands from his hips and visibly relaxes.
I’m out the door and in my SUV before I can think better of it.
That was nothing. That was me riling my brothers up while flirting just enough to know Strider is interested.
In the it’s-a-small-world realm, it’s practically impossible that Mom tossed me into the arms of one of Charlie’s friends in a hotel just outside of town during an op she wasn’t supposed to be a part of.
We don’t need Facebook or other social media to show us the six degrees of Kevin Bacon; it’s right under our noses.
I’d planned to stay with Davie, so I no longer need the overnight bag on my back seat. And while there’s no need to rush home, I have no excuse to take the slow route. The whole point was getting away from Strider.
Instead, I spent all of dinner feeling the heat of him permeate my clothes, watching the lines near his eyes crinkle as he laughed, and subtly flirting.
Cartoon me let her eyes bug out and her tongue unfurl with drool. Real me was trying to avoid squirming while dealing with wet panties.
I pull into the garage and head inside my apartment, noting when the motion-sensor light goes off. I wash my face, brush my teeth, and am settling into bed with my eReader when it pops on again.
It’s the same time my phone buzzes.
Strider
You awake?
I wasn’t lying. I’m old enough to know better… But I’m also a man.
What does that mean?
Bubbles bounce and dance as I wait.
After longer than I want, the reply comes.
It means I wasn’t going to push my luck with your brothers. And I would never put you in that position either, but I can’t deny I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, funny, and sexy as hell. And if you’re awake, I’d like to talk where we don’t have an audience.
Or we could skip the talking. Your call.
Strider
I’m such an ass.
Yeah, that came off like a teenage booty call. And I can’t recall the message, so…
Mirren
So it wasn’t a booty call?
I rub the bristles at my chin with one hand while staring at the phone in my other. How the hell am I supposed to answer that?
A no isn’t fully honest. I’d kill to be inside her. Hell, even to taste her. A yes, on the other hand, isn’t my style. None of this is my style. I’m way more old school than most men my age, but I still have a dick. And it’s throbbing behind my zipper.
I can see you pacing in the driveway. Was my question that hard? See what I did there? I said *hard*.
My head snaps up, and I stare over the bright light at the window above. I can’t see motion there, but it’s the only place she could see out to know I’m pacing.
I smile at it and crook my finger.
Cute that you think that could work. You see, I’m not dressed enough to go out there.
My legs move before I finish the end of the text, taking me toward the light. I’m halfway up the stairs when she pulls the door open and the whole world stops. It might as well change its directional rotation.
Maybe I’m dead, and this is the afterlife or the moment in between here and there. I don’t know, but it’s… everything.
Mirren stands, leaning onto the door, in a white tee that shows her belly button and orange lace boy shorts. And nothing else.
Her face is natural, her hair is down, and nothing in my life has ever made me harder.
“I—” The single word comes out, but nothing forms behind it. But at least my legs work. I’m at the top of the steps, staring down into those captivating eyes, standing way too fucking close.
She tilts her head up, a coy smile playing on her lips, and asks, “So booty call, or no?”
My lips are nearly to hers, my fingers skimming the skin just below her tee, when I say, “No.”
Her head jerks back, and her eyes blaze fire. “No?”
“Oh, Freckles, that’s not rejection. I’ll make you come. I’m dying to and for you to do the same for me, but no way will this ever be just a booty call.”
My thumb brushes the soft underside of her tit, and she gasps. And that’s all the invitation I need. I take her mouth. No, I claim her mouth. I thrust my tongue inside and own it.
I don’t know whether it’s her groan or my own when she hooks a hand around my neck and tugs me closer to her. Sliding my other palm to the middle of her back, I pull her to my body.
Her nipples pebble against my chest, and there’s no question she can feel the length of me at her belly.
It’s a duel for control, for who can pull whom closer.
My hand at her back slides down, my fingers pushing under the lace at her ass. Instead of gripping her perfect cheek, I trail my fingertips where the swell meets her leg and then to the juncture of her thighs.
Her soft intake of breath breaks our mouths apart, and she looks up at me, through those long lashes and hooded eyes.
“What do you want, Mirren?”
“You. Inside me. Now.”
She’s bold, knows her own mind, and isn’t afraid to lay it all out there.
I drop my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Absolutely, but only after I taste you.”
The full-body shiver that rolls through her rattles me like electricity looking to ground.
“Take me to your bed.” I nip her earlobe and am met with her soft mewl.
She reaches past me, closes the door, and flips the deadbolt before sashaying that perfect ass toward the other end of the apartment. If I could follow on my knees, I would, but that would slow things down.
Instead, I fight my gaze that’s drawn like a compass to magnetic north on her perfect ass covered in orange lace. My cock has the same directions, apparently, and points longingly at her retreating form.