Headed for Trouble (The McKay Family #1) (32 page)

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “I like it, though.”

“I still want it back.” He stared at her, watching as her eyes widened. As her face flushed pink.

“I guess I’ll have to let you have it, then.” She sighed softly as he finished the last of the buttons and pushed open the lapels. One slim hand reached up and tugged. “Should I take it off?”

“Hmm. In a bit. Maybe. I’m considering letting you keep it, seeing as how you look so lovely in it.” He settled back on his heels and stared at her. He hadn’t been able to see her well last night at all, not even when they’d come home because he’d been too desperate to have her again.

But now, with morning sunlight coming in through the blinds, he could see all of her.

Stroking his hands down her torso, he forced himself not to stare at the
X
and its slightly uneven lines. So easily. Sam Clyde could have taken her from this life so easily and then Ian never would have had a chance to know her.

It made his hands shake with fury and with fear, and in an effort to keep from staring at it any longer, he stretched his weight out on top of hers and then rolled them so that he lay on his back.

“I’ll let you keep the shirt,” he said. “I’ve a trade in mind.”

“A trade.” Her eyes glittered down at him and his thoughts went all hazy and hot as Neve scraped her nails over his flat nipples. She sat astride him and through the shorts he’d pulled on when he woke up, he could feel how hot and ready she was for him.

“Yes.” Catching her hips, he nudged her weight down until she straddled his thighs and then he caught her hand. “I want to feel your hands on me again.”

She slid the tips of her fingers inside the waistband of his shorts. “This would be easier if you hadn’t put clothes on.”

“But then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of having you pull them off.”

She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she pushed his shorts down, lifting her weight up when he arched his hips. Her eyes met and held his as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. That … he shuddered. That was nice.

It went from nice to complete bliss when she dipped her head and pressed a kiss to his chest, her bare breasts rubbing across him.

He shuddered as she rose back up over him and held him steady, moving to take him inside.

She was silky and wet and …

Snarling, he rolled, pinning her beneath him once more as he remembered why he’d gotten dressed in the first place.

“Neve…”

She blinked up at him, startled.

“We used the last rubber last night.”

“We … what? Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” He dropped his head to rest against her brow, keeping his weight on his elbows.

Heated seconds passed between them and the hunger didn’t abate—not for him, at least. It might have had something to do with the way her nipples seemed to stab into him, hard little peaks of need. It might have something to do with the way she gripped his arms, her fingers kneading his muscles.

“I—”

“I’m on the pill.”

They both spoke at once and he slowly lifted his head as the meaning behind her words sank in.

“Neve…” Shifting his weight, he reached up to cup her cheek.

“I’m on the pill,” she said again. “I decided to go on it a few months ago. I … um. I was afraid he’d find me again and … and…”

“Shhh.” Fury blistered in him, an ugly red film that enveloped his entire soul. He had to push it down and focus on her. “Neve, that’s…”

“I won’t get pregnant. So unless—I mean, if you want to—”

He pressed his mouth to hers to stop her from talking. “Want … that doesn’t touch it. But Neve, are you sure?”

Her answer was to reach down and tug on his hips again.

Such a gentle gesture shouldn’t turn him inside out, but it did. Everything about her seemed to turn him inside out.

He shifted again, reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, steadying himself.

Neve brought one knee up, her skin sliding smooth as satin against him as she arched.

Heat.

Pure, liquid heat kissed the head of his cock as he pressed against her. She yielded to him with a soft sigh of a moan and he thought maybe, just maybe, he’d died and gone to heaven.

When he went to withdraw, she whimpered and caught him, tugging him back to her.

They kept up that slow dance, him retreating and her drawing him back in, and it was the sweetest, most erotic thing of his life.

She moaned out her climax as he lost the reins to his control and exploded inside her.

*   *   *

William sat in his chair just in front of the little café, staring across the street.

She’d gone inside with him.

William had been following them most of the night, keeping a safe distance, but really, how hard was it to follow a man on a motorcycle in a town this size? Not hard at all. When they’d pulled off at the river last night, he’d just driven past them, then turned around and killed the lights, parking some distance away so he could walk.

He’d waited until they had a safe distance ahead of him before he’d turned on his lights and followed them back into town. He’d wanted to know where she lived, but it must have been Campbell’s place, because she’d nattered on enough about her house that he knew it couldn’t be the simple building where the bastard had parked his bike.

And they were still inside.

William had taken his time—too much of it—and Neve had gone and forgotten herself. Giving her body to Campbell like some frowsy whore.

But she’d learn.

Once they went to leave, she’d understand that this—all of this—was done.

*   *   *

Hannah’s whole body felt bruised.

But it was nothing compared to her heart.

She’d pretended to sleep when Brannon had pulled out of bed. How she wished she really
had
been asleep.

She heard him swear under his breath, and the disgust in his voice all but ripped her heart out.

He hadn’t said it to be cruel. If he’d known she was awake, she knew he wouldn’t have said anything.

But in those brief, unguarded moments, she’d realized she was wasting her time.

Hannah had loved Brannon McKay for years—too many years. She’d entertained a hundred foolish fantasies and now she knew, without a doubt, they were nothing
but
fantasies.

She needed to leave, but she couldn’t get out of the damn bed and face him until she knew she wouldn’t cry.

The ringing of the phone caught her attention and she held her breath, listening to the low rumble of his voice.

Moira.

Slowly, she eased herself upright and sat on the edge of the bed.

“… seen her? No … no, she
what
?” Out in the living room, Brannon made a disgusted sound. “Listen, I’ll call Ian and see if she … spent the night or something. Yeah, okay.
Okay,
Moira.”

A few seconds passed and then Brannon muttered, “I’ll see if she spent the night, then I’ll kick his ass. Just on principle.”

Hannah stood up. Spying her clothes on the small table near the door, she grabbed them and hurried her way into them. She’d just shoved her feet into her shoes when she felt him watching her.

He was on the phone.

His eyes burned in her, traced over her body even as his face took on a harder, focused look. “Ian. Is Neve there? She … Ian, I’m going to punch you.” He paused, not saying anything for a moment as he moved into the bedroom. When he went to brush his fingers through her hair, Hannah moved around him. Too aware of his watchful stare, she strode into the living room.

“No, I’m not mad at you. I just feel like punching you. You had sex with my sister, I’m entitled.”

Hannah made a face.

Closing a hand over the doorknob, she told herself to leave. Now. It was the best thing to do, really.

She sucked in a breath when a hand slammed down on the door just as she went to open it.

“Look, I’ll call you later. But have Neve call home. Moira’s worried. No. No …
bye,
Ian.” The final words came out in a growl and Hannah gave the door a half desperate jerk.

It opened a fraction, but Brannon just leaned into it—leaned into her.

“I need to go,” she said, keeping her tone disinterested, bored. “I’ve got to shower and start getting ready for work.”

He buried his face in her hair. “What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?
She stifled a hysterical giggle. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, lying through her teeth. She even managed a casual smile as she turned around and stared at him.

He opened his mouth to say something.

But nothing came out and she turned back to the door.

His hand fell away and she left, without either of them saying another word.

What good would words do, anyway?

It wouldn’t change anything.

As she hurried home, she tried to silence the voice in her head.

But she still heard him.

Brannon, you stupid fuck … what did you do?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Neve didn’t want to leave.

If she had her way, she would have stopped time and kept the two of them locked up in Ian’s condo for the rest of her life.

But Ian had to work.

And Moira left her feeling more than a little guilty as she’d hung up the phone.

Brannon knew.

Moira now knew.

Who else knew?

“What are you thinking about?” Ian asked as they moved down the steps. He caught her hand, his thumb rubbing over the inside of her wrist.

She rolled her eyes. “Facing Moira. Brannon. It’s stupid. I mean, I’m a grown woman, but…”

“Are you sorry?” Ian stopped right in front of the door that led out to the small garden behind his condo.

“No!” It came out of her in a rush and she winced as the word bounced off the high ceilings, echoing back to her. “Ah … no. It’s not that. It’s just…” She pursed her lips. “I haven’t done this. Ever.”

“Well…” He scratched his chin. “If it makes you feel better, you did it very, very well.”

She shoved him lightly, trying not to laugh. “That … I mean. Arrghh…” She groaned and turned away, pacing up and down the mellow gold of the hardwood floods. “You’re only the second guy I’ve slept with … and I went out with him for three months before we … um…”

She closed her eyes, the memories stabbing at her anew.

When Ian moved up behind her and closed his arms around her, she sank back against him. “Does it make you feel any better to know you’re the first woman I’ve had spend the night at my place in … hell, forever? I think it’s been more than ten years.”

Slowly, she turned in his arms. “Are you saying you haven’t…”

He laughed. “No.” His cheeks went slightly pink over his beard and he glanced away. “Noooo, not that. I just…” He sighed and brushed a hand down her hair. “There’s a woman. She comes into the pub every now and then. Lives about forty-five minutes away from here. And…”

He looked embarrassed now—
she
was embarrassed and not entirely certain she wanted to hear this. “If you’re going to tell me you’re seeing somebody else—”

Ian pressed his finger to her lips. “No. I’m not. I haven’t been seriously involved with anybody in a long, long time, Neve. It’s just that … we’ve gotten together a few times. Sometimes she’d come visit me … ah … here. But if we were having a night together, it was always at her place. She’s asked about staying the night and I…” He shook his head. “I never wanted her to stay. We’ve … um. Well. Never wanted a woman in my bed with me all night long … until you.”

Her breath caught. “Oh. Well.”

“Yes.” He rubbed his mouth against hers. “Oh. Well. You’re twisting me something awful, Neve. And I love it.”

She reached for him but before she could do more than brush her fingertips against his arms, he pulled away. “Have to go, love,” he said, backing up. “Otherwise, the only place we’d be going is back up to my flat.”

A tug of longing gripped her. “Ah … I’m fine with that.”

“I would be, too, but I can’t be late for work. The boss is something of a dick about that.”

“I thought you were the guy in charge at the pub.” As they pushed through the door, she slanted a look up at him.

“I am. Which is how I know I’m a dick about promptness.” He grinned down at her and then looked away.

Neve saw the expression on his face—the faint smile, his lips curling up just a little at the corner—and then saw it falter. Ice replaced the warmth in his eyes. “What the fuck?”

She looked over, confused.

The only thing she saw was the green.

Stumbling backward, Neve swung out a hand as her legs threatened to give away beneath her.

The pale, soft green fluttered in the wind and it blinded her to everything else.

“William,” she whispered.

“Neve?”

Ian turned to her and caught her arms as she struggled to find the strength in her legs once more. “Neve!” He shook her slightly.

Dazed, she lifted her face to his. “He’s here. William … he’s here.”

*   *   *

Brannon stood at his window, staring out.

Something wasn’t right.

Oh, he’d heard Hannah’s words, heard her say nothing was wrong, but he knew women. He had two sisters, had Ella Sue, had been in a few off-and-on relationships, not to mention all the women he’d worked with in his life.

He knew when
nothing
meant
everything
and he knew when
I’m fine
meant
I want to punch you
.

The look on her face had hovered on the fine line between misery and anger, hurt and …

Brannon closed his eyes. Humiliation.

Something he’d done …

“What did you do?” he muttered to himself, scrubbing the heels of his hands down his face, stubble rasping under his palms. “What did you…”

It hit him, then, memory, like a punch in the gut. He’d said those very words just a short time ago. While Hannah lay sprawled on her belly in his bed and he’d fought the urge to press his body to hers—
again
—lift her to her hands and knees and sink inside her. He’d made love to her four times—