Prick Tease (Tangled Desires Book 1) (16 page)

“Don’t be difficult, Claire.” I snatch the fork out of her hand. “You don’t take off for fucking apple, and…” I prod the crust with the fork. “Rhubarb?”

“You should try it.” She pushes the plate toward me.

“You should try telling me the real reason you bolted like your ass was on fire.”

She folds her hands on the table in front of her. “You really want to know?”

“Yes. I really want to know.” I scoop up a bite and chew on it while I wait for her to answer.

“Fine,” she says. “You think I don’t know what I want. That I’m too young to be sure of what I want in my future. But you’re wrong. I know what I want.”

“Pie?” I mutter, trying to throw her off track. I don’t want to hear her tell me she wants more than what we’ve already got. That’ll only make it harder when she goes back to her real life, and I have to move on, possibly this time with nothing. Even if my chest swells at the very idea that she could be mine in more than just body. That she’s exactly the type of girl who does know what she wants.

“You, you ass. But you know that.” She tosses her head. “And you still don’t believe me. So I’m going to eat pie, because at least when I want pie it doesn’t tell me I’m too young to know what I want.”

She steals the plate back, scooping the apple and rhubarb concoction into her mouth, and I don’t know whether to kiss her, or continue to argue that she can’t possibly know what she wants when it comes to us. It’s getting harder to keep this our little secret, but the idea of losing all of them, losing her in the long run, makes it hard to muster the confidence to tell her brothers exactly how I feel about their little sister. “You
are
too young. You’re only twenty-two. You don’t even understand the consequences of what we’re doing.”

“It probably doesn’t matter whether you believe me or not,” she says. “This isn’t the real world. This is some kind of cocoon we’ve created where everything is perfect. You’re going to leave, and so am I. No one needs to find out. Nothing needs to change.” She puts her fork down and gets up. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Right about what?” There’s this pounding in my chest at the way she says that.
I suppose you’re
right. 
Claire’s never been one to back down, one to tell me I’m right. Those are not words I’ve heard out of her mouth before. I don’t like it. In fact, I kind of hate it. I shove out of the chair and follow her out of the diner. “I’m right about what?”

She ignores me and stalks up the pavement. Before she can get far, I grab her and swing her around. “I’m right about what?”

Her gaze bores into me as if she can’t see anything but me. “Not to expect anything from you.”

Yeah. I’m right. That’s what I told her. The lies I tell us both to keep this from getting complicated. It’s not the truth though. There are a whole lot of things I want to give her, want to have with her. Things have already passed complicated, because I can’t see how I’m going to be able to let go of her, which means I’m going to have to face the music. I’m going to have to come clean to her brothers. I’m not scared of much, but the idea of how Mace will react is fucking terrifying. Tom’s more easy-going. He’ll probably get over it after a while, but Mace has always been the type to hold a grudge. I owe him my loyalty, I owe his entire family respect, and instead I’ve betrayed them.

She’s worth it. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve abused their compassion. Pretty soon, I’m going to have to take my licks like a man. The worst part isn’t that they’ll turn their backs on me. The worst part is how it’ll affect Claire.

I let her go, watch her jog to her car, making no move to follow. I should go after her, tell her all these dreams I have for us. Instead, I watch her drive away.

Chapter Thirteen

Claire

I wake up grumpy. The space beside me on the bed is empty, which isn’t unusual because Razer’s been sneaking back to his own room before either of my brothers wake up, but this is different. Since I told him he was right, he hasn’t touched me. It’s been three freaking days, and the closest we’ve gotten is him handing me a mug of coffee yesterday morning. It’s as much my fault as his. I haven’t exactly been friendly, speaking to him in clipped tones, locking myself away to work, and scouring the Internet for any sign Henley’s indiscretion has become public knowledge. So far he seems to have stayed off the radar, which helps me breathe a little easier, but then it’s only a small slice of the problem that needs to be dealt with, and my mind has been preoccupied. Razer’s barely been at Tom’s, spending his time with Mace or out at the block as a means of avoiding me. He certainly hasn’t been beating my door down after our fight.

I miss him so much my skin aches. It’s prickly and raw with how hyperaware I’ve become of his constant touches. I don’t know if that’s normal, or if he’s just gotten so far under it that it screams out for his touch. But nothing I do eases the ache.

I stumble out of bed for the bathroom, consider throwing caution to the wind and slip into his room when I’m done. I don’t know why I don’t hear the shower running. Probably because I’m wading through the fog of an overly detailed fantasy of things I want to do to him. But he’s staring at me when I shut the door. His hand wrapped around his cock, the other to the steamy glass. Déjà freaking vu.

“I’m not right,” he says. “Damn it, Claire. I’ve never been right about a damn thing when it comes to you.”

“What are you saying?” This time there’s no hesitation as I cross the room, my gaze dropping to the hand he has on his erection. I’m dying to get in the shower with him, to drop to my knees and take his cock in my mouth so I can taste him.

His gaze bores into mine as he steps out of the shower and starts stripping me bare. “You can expect things from me. I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“I’ve missed you,” I say as he pulls me under the spray.

“I’ve missed you, too.” He’s already showing me, his hands on my breasts, between my legs, while he tells me what he wants to do to me between devouring my mouth. Then I take his cock in my palm, stroking him until he’s groaning, his hands pressed to the wet, steamy glass either side of me. I can’t stop the urge to get on my knees and take him in my mouth, tasting him, sucking him, while I massage his heavy balls in my hand until he cums hard, his seed coating my throat.

After that he puts his mouth on me, licking and thrusting his tongue inside me until I orgasm.

We don’t talk about what happened, or what will happen now. We should, and we will. But not right away, not yet, not while we’re still making love with our eyes, and our hands as we dry each other off and get dressed. Then he lingers over my mouth until I’d rather stay locked in the bathroom with him than go in search of my morning caffeine fix.

When he finally lets me go, he ducks his head out to check for my brothers, and then swats my ass as he nudges me out of the bathroom, giving me a couple minutes head start.

Tom pushes coffee in front of me when I enter the kitchen, and goes back to reading his mail.

“Where’s Mace?” I ask, hopping onto a stool and grabbing a mandarin out of the bowl on the counter.

“I think he’s going to stay.” Tom says. “He’s out talking to a couple guys who run security around here.”

“Oh.” I dig my fingers into the skin of the mandarin, peeling it and tearing it into segments before popping them in my mouth.

“What’s going on with you and Razer?”

“N-nothing,” I say, blushing furiously. I pray that Tom doesn’t somehow know I was on my knees for Razer only a few minutes ago.

“You two have barely said a word to each other since the ring.” He glances up as he tears into another envelope.

“We’re fine.” I sip my coffee, gag on it and scramble for the sugar bowl. “Yuck. Seriously, Tommy. How can you drink that swill?”

“No one needs three sugars, Little Bit.” He chuckles. “Well I’m glad you’re fine. I didn’t want to have to kick you out.”

“What?” I stand there with a spoonful of sugar halfway to my cup. “You’d kick me out?”

“It’s much easier to have a bachelor pad without a girl in it.” He grimaces.

I drop the spoon back in the container and swat him. “Pig.”

“Morning,” Razer says, going straight for the juice. What are you two arguing about?”

It’s amazing how it’s only been minutes since I saw him and yet my gaze drinks him in like it’s been far longer. I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of him. “He’d kick me out before you,” I splutter with mock indignation. “All so he can keep his bachelor pad.”

Razer laughs. “Your little sister cramping your style, Tom?”

“Huh?” Tom doesn’t look up, his face draining of color as he stares at the envelope in his hand.

“Are you all right? Is the idea of losing your bachelor pad that upsetting?” I nudge him.

“What?” He snaps his head up from the envelope to glance at me and he has this wild look in his eyes that’s kind of unnerving for a second, before he shutters his gaze. “Yeah, um, sure. I have to go. I’ve got…” he glances down at the envelope in his hand. “An appointment I forgot about.”

“What do you think that was about?” I ask Razer when Tom races out of the kitchen.

“Who knows?” He takes my hand, doing that thing with his thumb to my palm that he knows unwinds me. “He’s a big boy now, sugar. He can take care of his own problems.” 

“I know,” I say, but I can’t help the slight tremor in my gut I get from that look in Tom’s eyes.

Razer clasps my cheek with his palm. “I’ll talk to him, okay? But right now, I want to be selfish and have you all to myself. Three days, beautiful, three days of torturing myself with not being with you. I hated every fucking moment.”

***

Razer pads across the carpet and closes the lid on my laptop. “Still looking to see if that asshole is going to show up in the gossip mags?”

“Yeah.” I glance up at him. The past few days I’ve been scouring the media sites, my gut tingling with the feeling that something isn’t quite right. But I’m not sure whether it’s to do with Henley or my brother. Tom’s out of sorts, and it’s noticeable, but he shrugs it off and won’t talk about it. Still, whenever I look at Razer, my worries seem to slip away. As though they aren’t really important. Like whatever’s happening with Tom will sort itself out, or that it wouldn’t matter if Henley got caught with his pants around his ankles. “But it seems like he’s good at keeping his secrets.”

“I still want to punch his lights out.” He squeezes my hand and pulls me out of my chair. “But I have other ways of making you feel better.”

He certainly does. A flutter of pleasure unfurls in my core as he palms the base of my throat. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Tom’s still here. I don’t think he was going out.”

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?” he whispers against my ear, before scraping his teeth down the side of my neck. “The fucker’s barely left the house in days. I’m running out of patience.”

“I can see that.” I tilt my head to the side, and he bites playfully at my shoulder, sending a ricochet of sensation straight to my clit.

He runs his hands up my sides, cups both breasts, weighing them in his palms. “Be a good girl and lock the door.”

“We’re going to get caught,” I whisper. “I thought we were trying to avoid that.”

One large palm races down my belly to cup my sex, and my knees buckle with want. “That’s why you’re going to be quiet while I fuck you with my tongue.”

“What if I can’t?” I grind against him, his palm over my pussy and his erection against my ass. “You make it almost impossible.”

“Because all this stops if your brothers find out. You know that. So you’ll be quiet, because you’re greedy. You’re never going to get enough.”

Damn straight. I’ll never get enough. And somehow the idea of having to keep quiet, of possibly getting caught, makes it hotter. “Okay.”

I slip out of his arms, going to the door and twisting the lock. As soon as I turn to go back to him, he’s in front of me, on his knees, my skirt bunched in one hand on my hip while the other tugs my panties to the floor. He doesn’t even give me an opportunity to step out of them before he rubs the pad of one finger across my clit. “You’re so damn pretty, sugar. I can see how wet you are for me. The slight shine it creates on your pussy when you want me so hard it hurts.”

My whole body is fighting the urge to sink onto his fingers. Well, not so much fighting the urge, but if I grind down on him the way I want, my legs will go out from underneath me. He slides a digit inside me and my back arches, bumping my head against the door with a whimper.

“Shh.” He pushes in and out of me, adds a second finger. “You don’t want Tom to hear.”

Oh Good Lord.
His fingers scissor inside me, stretching me, and then he leans forward to dart his tongue across my clit. I shake my head, biting back on the need to cry out for him. My fingers scrabble at the wood while he licks me everywhere, around those magical fingers of his.

“Hey, Little Bit, Chelsea pushed Mace into playing mini-golf and he wants back up. Can’t believe he’s scared of a girl.” Tom’s voice on the other side of the door startles me and the edge of my cry escapes before I can cut it off. “Hey, are you okay?” He knocks. “Can I come in?”

“Uh.”
Shit.
“No.”
Oh my God, no.
Razer’s pulled his fingers out of me and replaced them with his tongue. I’m riding him, my knees buckling, my hips pushing me down onto his face with every stroke while Tom’s talking to me through the door. I slam my hand over my mouth, my eyes watering, but I can’t stop the sound that’s coming out of my mouth.

“Are you crying?” Tom tries the handle. I see it turn from the corner of my eye, and I’ve never been so happy for a lock in my life. My heart is beating out of my chest. I push at Razer’s head, or maybe I’m pulling him closer, forcing more of me into his mouth because I’m so close now. Getting so damn close. And it’s so very wrong with Tom on the other side of the door.

“I’m fine.” I kind of squeal on the last word.