MISTAKEN - The Complete First Season (23 page)

“
S
it
.” Her voice thundered around the two of us.

Brandon released me from his embrace and turned to face her. “I’m not your dog, Krystal. Not anymore.”

She walked around so that she could see both of us. Her jaw clenched and her eyes moved back and forth between the two of us. “Sit down. Now. Both of you.” Her face softened the tiniest bit. “Please.” Her eyes darted between the two of us.

I was frozen in place, unable to move a muscle.

I wasn’t sure what she was so upset about, but she scared the crap out of me. Her voice and her height were enough to fear, but knowing I’d done something to piss her off made the fear feel a lot more like terror.

Brandon’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he nudged me toward the leather bench seat where I had been sitting before our dance.

I edged across the seat and Brandon followed, sliding his arm around me, his leg pressed against mine. He pulled me toward him, his eyes never leaving Krystal’s.

She sat down across from us in the seat Brandon had been in earlier. She pulled my still half-f drink, now a sorry watered down mess, in front of her. She pulled the straw out and drank what liquid was left in the glass in a single, long swig. She raised her glass above her head and turned to motion to the waitress for another. She turned back to face us, her eyes shooting venom in Brandon’s direction. She said nothing, just glowered over him until her drink arrived at the table a few moments later.

She took a long drink, from the straw this time, and sat back in her chair. She folded her arms across her chest and glared at Brandon, saying nothing.

They both sat there like that for what seemed like forever, both daring the other to be the first to speak.

I’d finally sat there long enough. “Is someone going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

I felt the arm around my waist tighten. Brandon leaned into my ear and lowered his voice to a hush. “You should probably go back to your room.”

Krystal slammed her fist against the table. “Bullshit. She stays. She’s dying to know what’s going on. Why don’t you fill her in, Brandon?”

He rubbed his lips together. His chin dipped down and he cleared his throat. “I don’t think we need to do this tonight.”

“No?” Krystal’s eyebrow cocked up. She took another sip from her drink and leaned back again in her chair. “I know I’ve told you this before, but the girl’s been through enough.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I agree. It’s why we don’t need to do this tonight.”

She shook her head and stabbed at the ice in her cup with her straw. She looked up at me. “Has my brother told you about his occupation?”

My cheeks burned red. “Not… Not exactly, no. He also didn’t tell me you were his sister.” I wished I still had my drink in front of me. A little liquid courage seemed like it would have gone a long way in that moment.

“Half-sister,” he interrupted.

Krystal stabbed again at the drink with her straw. It looked like a dagger had twisted in her heart, too. “Yes,
half
-sister.”

I took a long breath. The last thing I wanted was to be in the middle of a sibling war.

She took a deep breath of her own, her eyes never leaving Brandon. “Our mother died. His grandmother raised him.”

He ran his tongue along the top of his teeth. “I was four.” He glared over at her again.

She narrowed her eyes again, clearly pained by his comment. She spoke through her clenched jaw. “I was seventeen.”

I had no idea what had gone on between them over the years. The pain was still evident with both of them, even though it had been over a quarter century since they’d lost their mother. I just looked back and forth between the two of them. Their anguish, their anger was palpable.

He didn’t respond, just continued to glare. I could see the tops of his ears had reddened and his jaw was working overtime.

She tilted her head from shoulder to shoulder, popping her neck. She took another sip from her glass. “Now that we have that out of the way…”

I looked back at Brandon, who was now somewhere else. He stared over Krystal’s shoulder at nothing, still working his jaw.

“Let’s discuss our most recent arrangement, shall we, dear brother?” She tried to catch his gaze.

His eyes snapped to hers. “There was no arrangement, remember? I didn’t sign it.” His hand pulled me toward him, possessing me.

Her eyebrow raised. “We had a verbal agreement, did we not?”

He snorted. “How many verbal agreements have you broken with me, Krystal?” He motioned at the waitress to come over to the table. “Vodka. Double. Neat.”

The waitress nodded and looked at me. “Just water, please.” Things were getting too interesting now to be clouded by anymore alcohol.

She brought our drinks back to us within a few moments. Brandon took a drink from his tumbler and closed his eyes, leaning back against the leather bench. His arm never left my waist, his hand holding onto me with a firm grip.

Krystal watched all of this with some amusement. “Why don’t you explain what you do for a living for her?” She nodded in my direction.

A tiny smile formed on his lips, his eyes still closed. “I already did.”

“Really?” The same smile formed on her lips, and I could then see the resemblance. It was all in the mouth.

“Really.” He opened his eyes to meet hers.

“So you told her all about why you’re with her? Your past dealings with people like her?”

My eyes widened a bit at her comment and I looked up at him.

His nostrils flared a bit and his gaze narrowed again. “She knows everything.”

“Everything? You’re sure? You told her why this…” She waggled her finger between the two of us. “…why this is so concerning?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grabbed his glass and took a quick drink. I saw how hard he clenched the drink and I was afraid it would break in his hand.

“No?” Her eyebrow cocked up again with feigned amusement. “I’m sure she remembers Pauline Edwards.” She looked across the table at me. “You went to school with her, right?”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

My brow furrowed into my eyes and I looked at Krystal. “Polly?”

She leaned back into her chair with a grin. “Polly. Right. That was what? Six, seven years ago?” She turned back to Brandon. “That would have made her… what? Seventeen?”

I felt my cheeks begin to burn. I picked up my water and buried my lips in the cold liquid, trying to hide my embarrassment. Polly and I were the same age and had gone to our little private school together, along with other children of politicians and foreign dignitaries. She had left school in shame our senior year when her father’s transgressions were revealed. The fact that Congressman Edwards was having an affair was nothing compared to the other things he’d been caught doing. As far as I knew, the man was still in jail. I’d never heard from Polly again after that.

His voice was low, almost a grumble. “We all make mistakes when we’re young.”

I heard him say it and the realization of what he meant made my heart sink in my chest. He’d been with her? With Polly? I couldn’t even turn my head to look at him to confirm it.

Krystal snickered. “Sure. But that mistake brought a man and his family to their knees. Ended his career, his life, even.” She swished the ice around and motioned at me with the glass in hand. “You can understand how that would look.”

I didn’t understand anything about what she was saying. The confused look on my face must have given me away.

“My brother blackmails people, Jenna. Politicians are his favorite.”

I hadn’t taken a sip from my water in a while, but I choked anyway. I coughed and sputtered, taking a drink from my water glass to calm the words that were stuck in my throat. The grip on my waist didn’t waver, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

His voice was calm, steady. “
That
is a crock of shit, Krystal.”

She gave her head the tiniest shake and took a sip from her glass before setting it back on the table. She pressed her lips into a tiny, sweet smile. “If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night, then good for you, little brother.”

I looked up at him, then. His eyes had returned to narrow slits, glaring across at his sister. He didn’t move except for his thumb rubbing at the nail of his index finger.

She glared back at him, but it was different this time. She knew she had won.

His fist pounded against the table. He spoke through gritted teeth. “I told you. I do not blackmail anyone.”

She shrugged a bit and fiddled with her glass. She directed her glance to me. “That hasn’t been my experience. But now that we all know why Brandon is here…”

His fist pounded against the table, loud enough this time to make the guard at the bar stand up to see what was going on. He spoke through his clenched jaw. “Enough.”

Even Krystal seemed to understand that she had pushed too hard. Her gaze dropped to her now almost empty glass.

His grip on my waist held firm. I could feel the tension throughout his body. I didn’t know if he was just angry with her or if he really did have something to hide.

My lip began to tremble and I took a sip of my water. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know anything else. I didn’t want to know anything anymore.

He took another swig of his drink and turned to look at me. “Nothing she is insinuating is true, Jen. If you can’t believe anything else, believe that.”

Krystal let out an audible snort and my gaze darted to hers. She tapped her straw into her drink again, clinking the ice around the glass. She held my gaze for a few moments. “You don’t actually believe in all of these coincidences, do you Jenna?”

Nothing like being put on the spot. They both waited for my reply, which didn’t come immediately. I turned my gaze to my water, tracing a drop of condensation down the glass. I could only speak in a whisper. “I don’t know what to believe.”

Brandon’s hold on my waist tightened, forcing my breath to hitch in my chest. I dropped my hand to the one he had gripped against my waist, trying to get him to loosen his hold on me. His hold was so tight, it almost hurt.

His voice dropped to a more hushed tone and he turned his head to face me. “Trust me, Jen. Can you do that?”

My own voice lowered to a whisper and I continued to try to wriggle out of his grip. “Yes.”

He nodded and turned to face his sister. “Good. Let’s get out of here.” His hand moved from the grip on my waist to entwine with my fingers.

“Jenna,” Krystal interrupted. “This is a very,
very
bad decision.”

I gave her a little nod and the same chill of fear I’d felt earlier ran through me again. “It wouldn’t be my first.”

M
y guard scrambled
to his feet to follow me out of the bar. I ignored him and led Brandon back to my room, the guard following close behind. I shook my head at my own stupidity—how had it taken me so long to figure out that these guys couldn’t tell me what to do? I didn’t speak to Brandon on the way up to my room, still fearing that any conversation that the security people overheard would be immediately relayed back to Krystal. She already knew too much about what was going on in my life.

I unlocked the door with my key card and closed it behind me, kicking my shoes off into the dressing area off to my side. I leaned back against the door and watched him as he strode into the room. He turned to face me and I took him in. Seeing him standing in front of me, devouring me with his eyes, took my breath away.

He ran a hand through his hair and a sheepish grin came to his lips. “What?”

I rested my back against the heavy door and stared across at him with my hooded eyes. “Tell me about Polly.”

The grin fell from his face and he closed the gap between us in only a few steps. He snaked his arms around my waist and leaned his head into my hair. “No.”

My brow furrowed and I let out a sigh of frustration.

He turned me into the room and walked me backwards toward the bed, never letting his arms leave my waist. His voice was almost a growl in my ear. “I’m not talking about her tonight. I’m not talking about her father.” He nipped at my ear. “I’m not talking about
your
father.”

My hands stroked up his back and tangled into his hair. I arched my neck to him as he laid me on the bed. He had a way of making any fear, any anger I felt disappear like it had never been. Like I had never wanted anything other than him. His scent alone, being that close to me, sent me almost to the edge.

He held himself over me, resting his weight on his forearms. He leaned into me and kissed at the sensitive spot under my ear, and I felt myself melt into him, falling at his touch. He whispered into my ear again. “If there is no more talking tonight, I’ll be fine with that.” His lips returned to that spot beneath my ear, and I knew I was going to lose myself completely.

“Far too many clothes.” He said it almost to himself as he continued kissing the spot he knew would make me come undone. His hand reached around my back and found the zipper of my dress, causing my breath to catch in my chest, heat coiling between my legs. I sucked in another breath as I felt his hands shove the fabric down and off my chest, around my hips then down my legs. He groaned my name into my hair. “Jen.”

I slid my hands down to his chest and clenched his shirt in my fist, pulling his weight onto me. His hands found my hips and he rocked against me. I could feel how much he wanted me, even through his pants.

His mouth covered mine, claiming me. His hands slid up my waist to my breasts. He found the closure of my bra and had it unhooked a second later, both of us almost desperate to remove the thin covering. He lowered his head to cover one taut peak, then the other. My hands found his neck, then entwined in his hair again as he sent pleasure coursing through my every nerve.

“So fucking beautiful.” He moved his lips back to my neck, working that spot just below my ear again. I moaned into his hair and moved my hands down to his shirt again. I fumbled aimlessly at the buttons, finally ripping open his shirt. I struggled to get the shirt over his broad shoulders and pulled up helplessly at the t-shirt I found underneath.

He shifted his chest and took off the dress shirt, now button-less. He raised his arms and lifted his head briefly so that I could pull his t-shirt off. I ran my hands across his toned chest and down his muscular biceps, down his arms, finding his hands.

He entwined his hands with mine, lifting them over my head and taking my bra completely off in the process.

I closed my eyes when he found my lips again, his kisses urgent, his body tensing beneath mine. He removed his pants in a single motion, allowing me to feel his hot length against my thigh as his mouth claimed mine. A warm current flowed through me in anticipation of feeling his flesh inside me again.

His hands found my breasts again, his thumbs rubbing against my nipples before he bent to lave against one again with his tongue.

I gasped and my fingers found his hair again, pulling his head even closer to me. Heat cascaded through me, pulsing from my core.

His hands moved to my wrists, which he lifted again over my head, holding them both in one hand, not allowing me to touch. He slid his other hand down, first teasing against each of my tight, hard nipples, then caressing down my side. His hand slid further down my body, caressing against my inner thigh before moving to touch me at my center. He slipped first one finger, then two into my slick opening, his thumb swirling above in just the right spot.

My back arched as I came undone against his hand, moaning against his demanding kiss. I opened my eyes and saw his gaze rake over me as I shattered.

“So fucking beautiful.” His mouth moved to my neck again and he released my wrists, his hands sliding to my hips, angling them against his middle.

I wrapped my legs around him and felt him thrust into me, hard and deep. My breath quickened with each thrust, feeling myself growing closer and closer to shattering, already, again.

He groaned into my neck, driving his hot flesh into mine again and again. His hand found mine again, entwining my fingers, and lifted my arm over my head. His other hand held my hip, almost reaching the small of my back, pulling me impossibly close.

I tightened the grip my legs had around him, the friction between us coiling to another lightning bolt in my core. I arched my back, pressing myself against him shamelessly, desperate for another release.

His thrusts slowed and deepened further, and I knew he was close to his own finish. He adjusted his angle only slightly, and looked into my soul with his ocean blue eyes. I shattered again, only a moment before he came himself.

He released his grip on my hands and they fell to his shoulders, clutching him against me. He lowered his weight gently to my side, raining kisses across my neck and chest. His words were short, breathless. “God, Jen.”

I curled against him and he shifted so that his arm cradled my neck, his other arm still wrapped around me. Our fit was perfect, like we were meant to lie just like that forever. I nuzzled into his chest, my eyes closed, still breathless myself.

Sleep had almost found me when I felt him kiss the top of my head, then rest his cheek against it. His voice lowered to a whisper. “I love you, Jen.”