Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Riley had always liked his brother. Sure, he could be annoying sometimes, and just loved getting under Riley’s skin, but at the end of the day, they’d always had each other’s backs, played wingmen, and offered whatever help and advice the other needed—especially when it came to women.
So why was Max keeping him stuck in a crowded bar listening to stories he’d heard a dozen times before when Riley could have been alone with Brooke somewhere?
Naked.
“. . . and then the wife started whaling on him, right there in the courtroom. Grabbed my briefing papers and whacked him around the head,” Max said, halfway through the tale of his favorite case. They were sitting at a corner table down by the harbor, with a spread of fried seafood and beer.
“No!” Brooke gasped, looking rapt. “What did you do?”
“Put her in an armlock and called for a continuance,” Riley finished for him.
Max gave him a look. “Way to ruin the good part.”
“I thought about becoming a lawyer,” Brooke said, with a wistful look. “I even took the LSATs in college.”
Riley paused. “I didn’t know that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know.” Brooke gave him a teasing grin.
“You had a lucky miss,” Max told her, peeling some shrimp. “I clocked fourteen-hour days at the firm starting out, and now that I’m partner, it’s not much better.”
“Talk to me when you’ve got three weddings in one weekend on back-to-back shifts,” Brooke retorted. Max raised his glass to hers in a toast.
“Here’s to the workaholics.”
He looked to Riley then back to Brooke, and gave a curious smile.
“Uh-oh,” Brooke said, taking a gulp of beer. “Do I want to know what that look’s about?”
“Nothing,” Max said. “Just . . . You’re not his usual type, that’s all.”
“Max.” Riley gave him a warning glare.
“What?” Max protested. “That’s a good thing. It’s a compliment,” he reassured Brooke. “It’s about time my brother wised up and found someone who could give him a run for his money.”
Brooke arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like there are some stories there.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Max said. “You’re the first one I’ve met in a long while.”
“You live across the country,” Riley interrupted, uncomfortable now. “And since when did this become a debate about my love life?”
“You’re right,” Brooke said, patting his shoulder. “If we start now, we’ll never stop. We can’t go anywhere without running into one of his old flings,” she said to Max. “Women practically line the sidewalks, swooning over him.”
“No wonder his ego is getting so big,” Max laughed.
“Come on,” Riley protested. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Brooke grinned. “Our waitress the other night nearly lay down in the middle of the restaurant. I’m surprised she didn’t try and slip you her number,” she added. “Oh, wait, she already has it, doesn’t she?”
He coughed. “Maybe.”
Brooke laughed out loud. “I bet you five bucks she texts, inviting you to a little rendezvous.”
Riley busied himself with his beer. The truth was, Lulu had already sent a flirty message inviting him to get together, but he hadn’t replied.
He still got messages all the time from his old hookups, just checking in, or suggesting a late-night rendezvous.
He used to think of it as a good sign—that they all stayed friendly, no hard feelings—but now he wasn’t so sure.
Did they all just think he was available for a good time, no questions asked?
“I have to say, I’m impressed.” Max sat back, regarding Brooke. “You’re taking this all in stride. Most women would be jealously checking his messages by now.”
Brooke shrugged, eating another fry. “Riley’s a free man,” she said. “He can do whatever he wants, with whoever he likes.” She smiled at him, looking relaxed, but Riley felt a strange twist in his gut.
He wanted her to be jealous. Or at least not so fine with the idea he could pick up and date some other girl anytime he chose.
Didn’t she care about them at all?
“That’s . . . wow. Mature.” Even Max looked surprised by her casual reply. “Hey, good for you. I wish my dates could be so relaxed about things. It’s like we have one dinner, and suddenly, they want me to pick out end tables and meet their parents.”
“You just have to be upfront about things, like Riley is.” Brooke smiled at him, then bobbed up. “I’ll be right back,” she said. Riley watched her weave through the crowd towards the bathrooms.
“Don’t screw this up.”
He looked back at Max. “Seriously,” Max said. “She’s awesome. And doesn’t seem to mind your long, long list of conquests.”
“Will you stop talking like that?” Riley scowled. “You’ve done nothing all night but make me look like a total man-whore.”
“Aren’t you?” Max shot back, then he laughed. “Come on, relax. Brooke doesn’t care.”
“But I do.” Riley still felt unsettled. He and Max ribbed on each other all the time, but for some reason, it was hitting close to home. “I’m trying to impress the girl, not make her think I’ll never settle down.”
Max’s eyebrows shot up. “So it is serious. Hey, sorry man, I didn’t realize. You said it was just some fun.”
“It is. Was,” Riley corrected himself. He sighed. “I don’t know.” He took another drink of beer. “It’s complicated.”
“Message received,” Max said. “Want me to start playing up your respectability? I can tell her about all that babysitting you did for our cousins, back home.”
“Little Elliot fell down the stairs and broke his leg,” Riley said, remembering.
“So I’ll leave out that part.” Max grinned. “Come on, you’re great. Annoyingly successful, and almost as handsome as me. She’d be lucky to have you.”
Riley shrugged off the praise, but watching as Brooke made her way back towards them, he couldn’t help noticing the way heads turned to watch her, every guy in the bar tracking the sway of those hips, and how her blonde hair was falling temptingly out of that bun . . .
He was the lucky one. He knew how her sweet lips tasted, and the way her body moved, the little gasping moans she made when he touched her, just right, and the look in her eyes as she came apart, begging for more.
He’d craved her from the start, but he was only just realizing how much more there was to want. Mornings with her, just laughing in bed. Late-night phone calls, and those texts that brought a smile whenever he saw her on the screen.
His name on her lips as she came undone.
“What did I miss?” Brooke was smiling when she reached their table.
Riley shot to his feet. He needed to get her alone, and fast. “Max has to call it a night. Jet lag, you know how it is.”
Riley gave his brother a look. Max obliged with a yawn. “I’m beat. All that travel.”
“We’ll let him get his beauty sleep.” Riley took her arm, already needing her so badly he couldn’t think straight. “You can take the boat,” he said to Max. “Don’t sink it.”
“It was great meeting you?—”
Riley dragged Brooke away before she could finish. “Hey,” she protested. “What’s the rush?”
Riley leaned in, still propelling her through the crowd. “In five seconds, I’m going to kiss you. I can do it right here, wherever you want, but I’m guessing you’ll want us to be alone.”
Brooke looked at him, and she must have seen the desire in his eyes, because her cheeks flushed. “Alone,” she repeated, looking breathless. “OK.”
He pushed open the back door and slammed it shut behind them, propelling her into a blissfully deserted alleyway. Even if there had been another hundred people back there, it wouldn’t have stopped him.
He needed her. Now.
Riley pushed Brooke back against the wall and claimed the mouth that had been teasing him all night.
Her lips were soft, parting to let him deeper, and just like that Riley lost control.
He kissed her hard and fast, demanding everything she had—and more—and God, Brooke was right there with him, her hands up around his neck, pulling him closer, and her body melting against him, all heat and curves and dangerously sensual surrender.
He tore away from her mouth, already needing more.
The curve of her neck, the delicate hollow of her collarbone—he trailed a blazing row of kisses, feeling her gasp and leap to his touch.
His hands slid possessively over her waist, roving to feel every inch of her, even through her sundress.
He palmed her breast in his hand and felt her shudder, her breath coming faster as he teased through the fabric, peaking her nipple in a stiff nub that he rolled between his thumb and fingertip, teasing harder until Brooke was writhing against him.
Dear God, this woman was intoxicating.
Riley felt like a man possessed. Every thought, every instinct, it was all drowning in her.
Capturing her lips again for another fevered kiss, he grabbed her wrists, pinning her in place against the wall as he bent his head and turned his attention to her other breast, licking over the gorgeous swell and pushing the fabric lower to kiss and suck at the stiff peak of her nipple until Brooke’s gasps became a moan.
“Riley . . .”
The sound of her voice was dizzying, a breath of need, and it took everything Riley had not to shove her skirt up and take her right there, driving deep inside the way his body was demanding.
But this wasn’t about him. It was her, only her, and dammit if he didn’t need her coming apart for him, crying out his name, and cresting on a pleasure so sweet she couldn’t walk away from him if she tried.
He needed to show her he was the only one who could make her feel this way.
He kissed her again, deliberate this time.
His blood ran hot, heart pounding in his ears, but he forced himself to slow, easing her lips open and stroking his tongue deep into her mouth.
Brooke shuddered in his arms, still pinned in place, and Riley kept her there, up against the hard brick, as he took one hand and slowly, teasingly, trailed it over her breast and down, down past her hips to rest there at the apex of her thighs.