Chapter Five
Reilly
“ICAN’T BELIEVE Zac called us out like that. How on earth could he tell, Rye? No one has ever been able to tell us apart without knowing us before,” Holly says as she’s stares at her reflection in the lift mirror.
She’s in a tizzy because I talked her into changing clothes and pretending to be me so I could walk out of the apartment as Holly, escaping the likes of Bray and his pierced cucumber.
It turns out I didn’t have to worry about it, because when we walked out of Zac’s bedroom, Bray was nowhere to be seen.
“Well, it doesn’t matter now anyway. Bray left before us, which means crisis averted.”
“Tell me again, if that pierced cucumber of his was so magical, then why are you avoiding it?”
She knows damn well why I need to stay away from that one. She just wants me to admit it, which is never going to happen, ever. Trying to play down the effect that he has over me, I shrug my shoulders at her as we exit the lift. “It wasn’t that good.”
I’m lying and I know she knows it. It wasn’t just good… it was the best damn cucumber I’ve ever bloody had. And that right there, that is why I can’t let myself get attached, that is why I need to stay far, far away from…
My thoughts are interrupted by Holly’s gasp.
Noticing she’s not right next to me anymore, I turn around only to come face to face with a shocked and frozen Holly, currently wrapped in a pair of very muscular tattooed arms. Damn it, Reilly, get your head in the game.
You are not Reilly right now you are Holly.
And if Holly can just pull it together long enough for us to get out of here, that’d be great. I’m not liking my chances—by the way she looks like a mouse caught by the bloody cat.
“Trying to run out on me, babe?” Bray says into Holly’s neck.
Shit, shit, shit, Holly looks like she’s about to pee herself. As I’m racking my brain for a way to get us out of this, Bray curses and spins Holly around to face him.
He looks between the two of us, back and forward a couple of times, before he smirks at me—a smirk that makes my ovaries shiver. Before I know what’s happening, Bray storms up to me, grabs my face between both of his hands and lands his lips on mine.
I’m doing my best to resist, to not open my mouth for him. He’s damn well persistent though. And those lips, those full soft lips of his just feel so bloody good. I can’t help the moan that escapes as he brushes his tongue along the seam of my lips.
For a moment, I give in, returning the kiss just as eagerly as he is giving it.
Everything around me fades, and all of my senses are zoned into all that is Bray.
His exotic, masculine, earthy scent surrounding me, making me feel like I’ve been whisked away to the forest. What I wouldn’t do to have this man throw me up against a tree trunk right now, the bark scratching at my back as he thrusts into me.
“Umm, Rye, I guess I’ll just meet you at home.”
Holly’s voice snaps me out of my Bray-induced insanity. That’s what he does to me, makes me insanely freaking horny and forget everything else. Pushing back, I step away from Bray, who is just staring at me with the biggest smirk on his face. Which just adds fuel to my growing fire now.
“What the hell, Bray?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. It then occurs to me that I’m Holly right now. Did he think he was kissing Holly?
“Why the fuck are you trying to kiss my sister?” I question.
His eyebrows draw in like he doesn’t understand the question. I can tell the minute the lightbulb goes off in his mind, because outcomes that full-watt smile again. Look away from the smile, Reilly. Do not let that delectable mouth draw you in again.
“Babe, I was not trying to kiss your sister.” Looking over at Holly, he says, “Not that you’re not smoking hot, Holl, because obviously you are.”
“Umm, thanks?” Holly questions, going beet red. She does not take compliments from men as easily as I do.
“Why’d you switch clothes anyway?” Bray asks me. “That’s on a need-to-know basis, and you do not need
to know. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get going.” I try to step around him, only to have him wrap his arm around my waist, stopping me.
“Not so fast, buttercup. I need a ride home,” he says as his thumb trails circles on my waist. Why does his simple touch affect me like this?
Just his hand on my waist is creating a storm of tingly sensations that run through me.
I’m not even going to mention the effect it’s having on my panties. I really need to get away from him.
“Not my problem, call an Uber. You have heard of them, right?” Internally, I am telling myself to stay strong. Do not let him affect you, Reilly. This will not end well for you.
“It became your problem when you asked me to drive your car here, babe. So, stop arguing and let’s go.”
Bray takes hold of my hand, like he has every right to, like it belongs to him somehow. It feels good to have my hand in his, warm, safe even. But no, I am not falling for that. Pulling my hand away, and shaking out the tingles, I find I’m still walking next to him. I think I may have lost my mind.
Bray stops suddenly, spinning around. “Holly, how are you getting home? Do you need a ride?”
One could be fooled that he is actually concerned about how my sister is getting home. I am not one.
“No, I’m fine, thanks. I have my car here,” Holly says as she points to her yellow VW out on the street. I watch as Bray looks at the car then back to Holly.
“Wait here a minute, babe,” he says as he takes Holly’s bag from her and proceeds to walk her out to her car, waiting for her to get in before he turns to make his way back inside.
Okay, well, that was… I don’t know what the hell that was. I do know we need to clear up this whole babe thing though. I swear my bloody ovaries do a little flip every time they hear him say the word.
“You ready, sweet cheeks?” Bray asks as he takes my hand again, only for me to pull it out of his hold, again.
“Sweet cheeks? No, just no. And while we’re on the subject of pet names, I am not now—and I am not ever going to be—your babe, your buttercup or your damn pumpkin. My name’s Reilly. Start using it!” I am almost yelling by the end of my rant.
The asshole laughs; that’s right, he laughs at me. “Just another thing for us to agree to disagree on. You know you’re cute as fuck when you get all worked up?”
“Argh, just show me where my car is. And there better not be a scratch on her.”
“Sure, Reilly, this way. It’s in the basement.” He puts extra emphasis on my name. I thought him not using pet names would be easier on the ovaries, but I was wrong, very, very wrong.
Bray gives me directions to his house and I stop at the gate, waiting for him to get out. He just sits there staring at me. It’s making me self-conscious. Do I have something on my face? I’m pretty sure I don’t.
“You know, this is usually the part where you say thanks for the ride, Reilly. Catch you around,” I tell him, hoping to get him out of my car.
“Huh. You know, I’d be happy to give you a ride you’d be thanking me for,” he says as he waggles his eyebrows up and down at me.
Before I can respond—because yes, it takes a bit for my mind to stop playing images of just what kind of ride he is offering—he snaps me out of my thoughts.
“Wind your window down and enter the code, babe. It’s 2501. ”
Like the idiot I am, I do just that: wind my window down, enter the code and drive through the gates as they open. At this point I think it’s my ovaries leading me to my doom. Stopping the car at the end of his driveway, I tell him, “Okay, you’re home. You can get out now.”
Laughing, he shakes his head at me. “I have your purse thingy you left here last night. You wanna come in and grab it?”
I do want to get that clutch; it has my cards in it. But is it worth the risk of entering his house again? I’m not sure. “Can’t you just run in and get it and bring it back out to me?” I plead with him.
“Are you afraid that friendly vagina of yours ain’t gonna be able to stop wanting to play with junior if you step inside?”
What the… wait, did he really just say that?
“My friendly vagina? Really, Bray? Trust me, it’s not as friendly as you think.
Right now, the right name would be bitchy vagina and the last thing my vagina wants to do is play with junior now or ever!
” If I keep saying it, we both might actually start believing it.
“Well, babe, your vagina was plenty friendly to junior last night. I can’t help it if he thinks he’s found his new playmate. Also, you can’t really say he doesn’t have good taste, because I can still taste that friendly vagina of yours and I’m starving for another feed.”
Holy shit, well, how the hell do I respond to that? God damn it, now my vagina really does want to play, or be played.
“It’s not happening, Bray. Please, I really need to go home. I can just get my clutch another time, or you can bring it to the club or something.” I can’t even make eye contact with him as I practically beg him not to make me go inside.
Bray’s silent for a moment as he looks at me, then he shocks me by holding my face, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Reilly, you know I’d never make you do something you don’t want to do, right?”
I nod my head because, somehow, I do feel safe with him. I do feel like he would never hurt me. But it’s the unpredictable nature of life that will end up hurting me. It’s the cops banging on the door at all hours of the morning and taking him off in handcuffs—that’s what will hurt me.
“Okay, wait here. I’m going to run in and grab your things.” Before getting out of the car, he leans in and kisses my forehead.
Kisses on the forehead are kryptonite. Jesus, why does he have to be so damn perfect? It takes less than two minutes for him to come running back out of the house holding my clutch and some garment bags.
He opens the passenger side door, places the clutch on the seat and then lays the garment bags across the back seat.