Chapter 28

JOEY

"Were you whispering to my vagina earlier?" Lynn asks as we're spooning in the hotel bed.

I choke out a laugh, and it takes me a minute to catch my breath. I'm just now recovering from the near heart attack I experienced from coming harder than I ever have before. Everything with Lynn feels like the first time, and I can't make heads or tails of it. But it doesn't have to make sense for me to want to hold onto it just the same.

"Well?" I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yes, I was." I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Her responding laugh has her naked ass pushing back into my cock, making me stifle a groan. "Care to share?"

"Nope. It's between me and Little Lynn."

"You did not just call my privates Little Lynn."

"Hey, if you can break the rules and call me Ace—and name a car and a statue—I can give a nickname to my favorite spot on Earth."

She snorts, and I find it adorable. Hell, Lynn could probably burp the alphabet, and I'd find it cute. "Somebody's laying it on a little thick."

"Not at all." I slide the hand that's at her curved belly down to cup her pubis, a move that has her squirming. "I'm thinking about moving in."

"It's gonna be a little hard catching and throwing a baseball with one hand stuck in my pants the whole time."

I skim my hand back over her belly and up to cup her breast. She has got a spectacular set of boobs, and I can't wait to get in more playtime. "I'm committed to making it work."

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're beautiful," I murmur as I place a kiss behind her ear.

She squirms again and stifles a yawn. "I'm tired is what I am. I couldn't sleep last night thinking about Larry."

I don't tell her that I slept like a baby after jerking off while picturing her in my shower. Instead, I say, "Go to sleep," tightening my hold on her and settling into the pillow.

I'm awoken in the middle of the night with Lynn's lips around my cock, and it takes a good ten seconds to realize it's not a dream. Her ministrations blow my biggest fantasies out of the water, and I return the favor by fingering her to another orgasm before we both drift off again.

Sunlight filtering through the hotel curtains finally wakes me hours later. I open my eyes to find that Lynn has taken over most of the bed, sprawling herself in a big X and using my chest as a pillow. I try not to laugh, knowing the movement will disturb her. Instead, I let my eyes roam over her naked body, freed from the sheets by her thrashing during the night.

Long, shapely legs lead to a perfect heart-shaped ass that tapers into her narrowed waist. Her skin is luminescent and silky, touched by the sun almost everywhere but her ass and the strip of light skin across her back. I want to taste every inch of her. I want to worship her body and make her laugh and draw more of those playful scowls from her. I want to hear her orgasm and watch her ride me. I want to have her every way I can and then invent new, impossible ways. I want to hear her secrets and worries. I want to take care of her. Even if that's the last thing she wants.

Lynn stirs, nuzzling into my chest as she awakens. My cock perks up, thinking it's go time, but I ignore it the best I can.

"I can confirm you don't snore," I say once I'm sure she's awake. "You do, however, thrash."

She lifts her head, half-lidded eyes scanning my face and then the bed before she faceplants back into my chest. "I forgot to mention that." Her words are garbled against my skin.

"As long as you're naked when you're thrashing, I'm all good."

As if only now realizing how bare she is, she yelps and catapults off my body to drag the loose sheet around herself, completely exposing me in the process. This has her yelping again and throwing a pillow over my junk. By the time she stills, I'm laughing so hard I'm afraid I'm going to bust something.

"It's not that funny," she finally says, her cheeks a pretty pink and her eyes trying their best to battle against a roll. "Okay, fine," she finally concedes when I start laughing all over again. She's such a contradiction sometimes—steadfast in her independence and maturity, yet even a mention of being naked fills her cheeks with heat.

When she climbs off the bed, though, I stop laughing immediately. "Hey, come back here!"

"I'm going to the bathroom," she calls behind her as she strides away covered in an impromptu toga. "Not streaking in the lobby."

I can hear the water in the sink and figure she's brushing her teeth, something I could probably afford to do myself before I scare Lynn away with my dragon breath. By the time she emerges, I've donned boxers to keep her from possibly assaulting my cock with more pillows. On my way past, I stop at her side and drop a kiss on her bare shoulder, exposed by her sheet toga.

But I've barely stepped on the bathroom's tile floor when I hear Lynn's voice. "No!" I quickly retrace my steps to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. Her eyes flash to my face. "He called." She lets out a pained whimper before finishing, "Last night."

My chin jerks back. "We would have heard it. Did you have your ringer off?"

She bites her lip and fixes her eyes on a spot somewhere over my left shoulder. "Um, no. I think maybe we were just a little… unfocused."

Ah. Yeah, that tracks. "Shit. I'm sorry. Call him back."

"He left a voicemail." She thumbs her screen and presses the speaker button on her voicemail message.

A man's deep voice says, "Hello, this is Guy Taylor returning your call about the Morton Frye sculpture. Looks like I missed you. I'm at the airport headed overseas in a few minutes, but I'll be back on Tuesday and will try you again then. Cheers."

Well, shit. I glance at Lynn's face and see that it's fallen. "I'm sorry, Lynn. At least you know the statue is safe until he gets back, though."

Her expression brightens a bit at that. Part of me worried she might take the phenomenal night we just had and turn it upside down in her head into something negative. Thank God she hasn't.

"You're right. Larry isn't going anywhere. But we probably should." Her nose wrinkles like she's not too fond of the notion, which echoes my sentiments exactly. But when I look at my watch, I know she's right.

"Crap. It's almost checkout time. How did we sleep in so late?"

"I guess I tired you out, Ace." The renewed sparkle in her eyes has me wanting to tackle her to the bed and have my way with her again, but we've got all the time in the world now that the friend zone is in our rearview.

* * *

"Areyou sure this is a good idea?" Lynn asks for the fifth time since I told her I was dropping her off at her mom's house. "What if one of the He-Men has stopped by?"

"Then we deal. They're going to find out sooner or later." When I picked her up yesterday, nobody was home but her, so we were met with zero reaction or resistance. I didn't even get to meet the famous Mango the skunk.

I'm pleased when she doesn't argue with my intimation that we're now a couple that will be seen as such—outside of work, that is.

"It's your funeral," she mumbles under her breath. I reach out and squeeze her hand in reassurance.

"I got this. Just you wait."

I don't hear whatever she mutters into the passenger mirror in response, but that's okay. She's got nothing to worry about.

But when we round the bend to approach the set of three houses lined up at the end of the road, my confidence takes a little bit of a hit. One brother would be a breeze. Two would be a fun challenge. But all four? I wasn't prepared for that. Oh well, no prize worth winning was ever won easily. Bring it on, Brooks family.

"What in the world?" Lynn asks from beside me, her brow furrowed at the sight of four grown men crossing their arms, legs shoulder-width apart like identical sentries guarding a queen. Or, in this case, a little sister.

Lynn is out the door before I can even put the truck into park on the gravel drive.

"Are you serious with this shit?!" She's spitting mad, but not one of them appears the least bit ruffled by her fire.

"Quiet down!" Carter yells, making me move my ass from the driver's seat with increased urgency. No way is he going to talk to my girl like that.

"I can say whatever I damn well please, however loud I like, you asshat!"

Okay, so maybe she doesn't need me as much as I'd maybe hoped. Oh well.

"What are you going on about?" the only unfamiliar one in the foursome hisses. This must be Denny Brooks, the only brother who doesn't work at the brewery. "Be quiet. We don't want to clue them in."

Lynn's stomping halts, and she stops a few feet from her brothers. "Wait. What?"

I'm only a couple feet behind at that point, but none of the brothers are looking at me. Their gazes are either on Lynn or the house next to their mom's.

Miller throws a chin at the neighbor's house. "One of those developers is in Winston's house. She was here yesterday, asking for Mama."

Lynn's jaw drops, and she spins on her sneakers to face the house. A blue Lexus sits in the driveway, but there's no sign of anyone. "That's the same car I saw the other day in his driveway! I knew I recognized it from somewhere!"

Cash curses. "She's been in there since this morning. Miller called us." He turns to his brothers. "One of us has to go open the brewery."

"I'm not moving until I talk to this interloper," Carter declares. Interloper? Maybe he plays Scrabble too.

"And I'm not moving until Winston explains himself," Miller challenges, hands now on his hips.

"Don't look at me," Denny chimes in, palms out. "I don't know how to open."

Cash scowls at each one in turn before muttering, "Fine, I'll do it myself. But you'd better call me the minute you find anything out."

"You got it." Carter nods, and Cash storms toward a beat-up car that could give Lynn's ailing Priscilla a run for her money.

It isn't until he's a couple feet from the car that he spins around, a finger jabbing my way like he wishes he were close enough to remove one of my eyeballs with it. "And what did I tell you, Martel?!"

I can only shrug. "I've never been a particularly good listener, Brooks."

Another few curses under his breath, and Cash tears his gaze from mine before hopping in his car and speeding from the driveway. Gravel spews from beneath his tires, and I jump out of the way to avoid it. That could have gone worse. One down, three to go.