Jersey Girl (Sticks & Hearts #1) (29 page)

"Why am I not surprised?" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah, what can I say? Chicks just seem to throw themselves at me," he deadpans. We're all laughing at his remark when he leans over and smacks me with the back of his hand as he points in the direction of the stage. "Hey, Scott, isn't that Cassie?"

Rivers turns around and when he sees her he does a double take. "Huh, I guess it is. I didn't know she hung out here." He gives his shoulder a quick shrug. "But I'm not surprised she's up on that stage."

"Why's that?" Jordan asks.

"Because she has an amazing voice," I answer quietly. Scott scowls as if he may be about to say something, but he lets it go. My gaze shifts to the stage, where she's holding a microphone and waiting for her opening note. The music starts up, and it's a techno-synthesizer beat I've become very familiar with over the past few months, because she's made me listen to it on more than one occasion.

She begins the song standing in place, but once she reaches the chorus, she starts strutting across the stage, singing about love being insanity and clarity all at the same time. Gone is the shy girl I walked home after finding her crying in a bathroom. In her place is a woman who dropped to her knees and owned me in her neighbors' bathroom. The same woman who'd moaned shamelessly while I brought her to climax with my fingers and a cheap latex toy.

The woman on stage exudes raw sexuality, and my dick has definitely taken notice.

But that's not the only part of me that notices.

I know everything about her. Every freckle on her nose. The sparkle that gleams in her left eye just before she comes. Every sigh of contentment. And the dimple that pops just after we've kissed. I could go on and on.

The crowd loves her. They love it when she raises her fist to punctuate certain words. And they scream like crazy every time she hits an unbelievably high note. She steps into the crowd, weaving her way through tables while continuing the song. A few guys at a table near the front reach out and snack her on the ass, and I push myself out of my chair.

"Easy, Casanova," Davis holds me back with a strong grip on my forearm. I sit back down and rub my hand over the back of my neck in frustration.

"Holy shit, Rivers. Your sister is fucking awesome!" Jordan stares up at the stage with his mouth hanging open.

"She is pretty amazing, isn't she?" he says in wonder.

When the song is over, the crowd goes bat-shit crazy and demands an encore. My heart swells with pride, because I've been telling her all along she's going to be a star. It doesn't take long for the next song to start, and it's a slow one. I also know this song. It's "Holding Out for a Hero" by Elise Lieberth. She had me listen to it on the train ride home, and after it was through playing, she said the song reminded her of me.

Even though I've heard her sing many times, I'm still mesmerized by her performance. The whole place goes quiet as she sings, and when she asks if there's a Superman to sweep her off her feet, I could swear our eyes lock.

Davis places a hand on my shoulder and leans forward, speaking in a low tone. "I realize you're having a moment right now, but I advise you to wipe that look off your face before he figures out you're in love with her." My eyes dart to his, and he merely raises his brow in response. "Just thought you should know."

Love?

Me?

BRANTLEY

"Are you
sure
you want to wait until after dinner to exchange gifts?" She calls to me from the living room.

I come down the stairs and find her on her knees under the tree, trying to find the perfect spot for my present. When she turns her head, I'm right behind her, and her eyes travel the length of my frame before meeting my gaze. I can't resist chuckling at her persistence before crouching down beside her. I skim my finger along her cheek before tapping the end of her button nose.

"Positive." I slide my hand around the back of her head and give a gentle tug until our lips are millimeters apart. "I think someone needs to learn some patience." Our lips meet for three quick kisses before I stand and take her by the hand. "Come on, time for that movie."

The movie is half over and we've spent most of it making out. So far, we've stuck to kissing and fondling with our clothes on. It's actually really nice, and I can't remember the last time I've had this much fun with my clothes on. Every time her hands go to unbutton my jeans, I just lift her arm and place it back around my neck. I look at it as building the anticipation, but it's driving Cassie out of her ever-loving mind.

"You're no fun." She sticks out her bottom lip and pouts.

I stop kissing her neck and narrow my eyes. "Did you just call me boring?"

She doesn't say anything, just looks at me and nods once. In one fluid motion, I stand and throw her over my shoulder. As I march toward the front door, she's giggling and slapping at my ass. The cold air hits immediately, and when she realizes where I'm going, her giggles turn into pleading.

"Brantley, no! Don't you dare." I keep walking until we reach the pile of snow to the right of the sidewalk and carefully toss her in the slushy mound. "Are you crazy? I'm not dressed for this!" She rises to a sitting position and places her hands on her hips. I'm laughing so hard I fail to see her hands reaching up to yank me down beside her. Now we're both cold and wet, so I do the only logical thing that comes to mind. I make a sloppy snow angel. A moment later, she makes one too and when I turn to her, still laughing, I find her staring at me with something more than laughter in her eyes.

"B, I lo—" I lean over and cover her mouth with mine, effectively cutting her off.

I know what she was about to say, and I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it. Right now, we're living in the fantasy world we've created, and everything feels so good here. I'm afraid if we say the words, we're opening ourselves up to a reality that's sure to destroy us.

I kiss her deeply, hoping my lips are able to convey what I'm feeling inside.

"Brantley," she says through chattering teeth, "I'm turning into a popsicle. Can we maybe take this back inside?"

"Oh, shit, baby, I'm sorry," I scoop her up and dash back inside where it's nice and warm. We're both a soaking wet mess, so I take her upstairs to my room. "Why don't you take a shower to warm up while I go downstairs and start dinner. Is breakfast okay?"

"It's perfect, just like you," she whispers, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss me again. "There's only one teeny problem. I don't have anything dry to put on." She lifts her wet shirt over her head and tosses it on the bathroom floor, and I'm momentarily distracted by how great her tits look in the lacy, red bra she's wearing.

"No worries, just grab anything of mine." I give her nipple a tease with my thumb before turning to start dinner. "See you in a few minutes."

"Tease." She throws me a wink before adding her bra to the pile. "Make me extra sausage."

"You never eat your sausage," I remind her.

"I know, but
you
do." I can't stop smiling as I make my way down the stairs.

My back is turned when she enters the room. The pancake batter is ready to go, and I have sausage and bacon finishing up on the stove.

"There's orange juice on the counter, and I've already popped the cork on the champagne if you'd like a mimosa," I call over my shoulder as I take the meat out of the pan. "I thought we could pretend like it's Christmas morning and—" I turn around and forget everything I was about to say.

She's standing in my kitchen, dressed in nothing but my old practice jersey and a pair of blue-stripped tube socks. She's so small it hangs past her knees, and the collar falls off one shoulder. Her blond hair hangs down in loose curls and her face has been scrubbed clean.

In all my life, I've never seen a more beautiful sight.

"Is everything okay? I hope you don't mind me wearing this," she looks down and tugs nervously at the jersey as I fight to swallow the lump in my throat. "I just figured it's so long it takes away the need for pants. If it bothers—" She stops talking when I cut her off for the second time tonight.

My left hand threads through her hair as our lips crash together. Her mouth is warm, just like her skin, and when my tongue slides inside, she whimpers. My fingers trail down her leg to find the hem of my shirt, and when I reach the apex of her thighs, I'm met with her bare pussy.

"No panties?" I smile devilishly.

"I figured it was redundant." Her shoulder lifts an inch. "You'd probably end up tearing them off."

"I like the way you think."

Keeping my hand between her legs, I lift her up and place her on the kitchen table. Stepping into the empty space between her legs, I tease my tongue over her lips before trailing it down the hollow of her throat.

Her soft whimpers encourage me as I lower one side of the jersey's collar to expose her naked breast. My lips cover the taut peak, and I swirl my tongue in slow circles until she squirms beneath me. Moving to the other nipple, I repeat the seduction while she rubs herself over my knuckle until her soft purrs turn into moans.

I release her nipple with a loud pop and lower myself into the chair positioned directly in front of her. Lifting her by the hips, my hands slide the jersey up to her waist. I could take it off, but seeing her in it has my dick harder than the fucking Hope diamond. My hands go to her knees, easing them apart ever so slowly until I'm rewarded with the sight of her glistening folds.

"Mmmm," I say, leaning my head in for a taste.

"Uh, Brantley," she wiggles her hips and braces herself on her elbows, "what are you doing?"

I stop what I'm doing and tip my head back to meet her smirk with one of my own, "Eating, of course."

Taking her by the ankles, I drag her back to my mouth and dine until her soft cries tell me she's had enough.

"That mouth of yours should be registered as a lethal weapon." A contented smile fills her face as she reaches out for me to help her up.

"I take it you enjoyed that," I say with confidence, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Duh." She offers a throaty laugh and palms the aching bulge in my pants. "But what about you? Do you enjoy doing that?"

"Are you kidding?" I smile and drop my pants to the floor. "Best meal I've ever eaten."

"Yeah? Well, you haven't had dessert yet," she counters, curling her leg around mine to urge me closer. Lust fills her gorgeous, blue eyes, and all I can think about is covering her in sticky, sweet caramel and feasting until I fall into a sugar coma.

Her arms circle my waist, drawing me in so the tip of my arousal brushes against the tiny bundle of nerves. Her lips part and her eyes flutter closed as she eagerly tilts her pelvis to take me. With one hand in her hair and the other splayed across her lower back, I roll my hips and slowly guide the blunt head inside. Her inner muscles contract and pull, guiding me in at a luxuriously slow pace.

I love the way her body reacts to the intrusion. The shuddery gasp when I crest her opening. The hiss she sucks in as her muscles stretch to accommodate me. Followed by the long, contented sigh we both release when I'm all the way in.

"Sweet Jesus," I growl in her ear, "being inside you tops everything I've ever done."

My lips find the spot on her neck that drives her crazy, and her head rolls lazily to one side as I lavish her with wet kisses.

"Better than kicking Kazmierski's ass?" she teases with a snap of her pelvis I feel clear down to my toes.

I bite her tender flesh then soothe the sharp sting with soft strokes of my tongue. "Sooo much better."

She writhes on the table, lowering her chin to her chest and moaning ever so softly. I don't like the change, because it means I can't see her eyes. I fist my hand in her hair and give a gentle yank.

Her pupils dilate, telling me she likes it when I get a little rough. "Better than winning the Frozen Four?"

"I told you," I growl, slamming my cock so deep she whimpers and claws at my shoulders. "Nothing compares. Nuh-thing."

Her fingers grip the back of my scalp, smashing our mouths together in a hungry kiss. I angle my head to the left, savoring the push and pull of her lips as her tongue twists and turns with mine in a slow dance of seduction.

As I roll my hips, she arches her back to meet me. Her legs tighten their grip around my waist, increasing the friction between us. With every stroke the base of my shaft grinds against her engorged clit and she responds by sucking my tongue deeper into her mouth. I pull back, leaving only the crown safely nestled inside, then hammer back into her in one powerful stroke. Her head falls forward to rest on my shoulder, and I continue thrusting, giving it everything I've got, until I damn near pass out from the intense pleasure coursing through me.

"I love you," she whispers quietly.

My body stills at her words, but my brain doesn't slow down. It kicks into overdrive.

She loves me?

Gripping my face in her hands, she presses one tender kiss to my lips, and this time looks me straight in the eye when she repeats it. "I love you, Brantley."

She loves me...

My head is spinning.

I've spent the last four years believing that hearing the words
I love you
would only bring me pain.

All it had taken to prove me wrong had been hearing the right woman say them.

She loves me!

Sliding my hands under her ass, I pick her up and take her against the pantry door. Her arms cling tightly around my neck as I pound relentlessly into her tiny body. Canned goods knock together every time her ass slams against the door, and when her orgasm reaches a crescendo she bites down hard on my shoulder as I fill her with my release.

By now, we're both a panting, sweaty mess. My pants are around my ankles, and her legs are draped over my forearms. I slowly lower her to the floor and pull up my pants, not bothering to button them before I cup my hands over her face and place a soft kiss on her swollen lips.

Unable to tear my gaze away, I rest my forehead on hers and take a deep breath to steady my nerves for what I need to say.