Author: Roni Loren
“But your father was. And this”—she cocked her head toward the emptied box—“was his specialty.”
Like he needed a reminder. “It’s not my stuff. And even if it were, I would never hurt a woman. I’m not him.”
“Genes are a powerful thing, Reid. Don’t underestimate them.” She touched his shoulder, her tone gentling. “I know you can overcome them, but don’t put yourself in bad situations. I’m only looking out for you.”
And the campaign. She didn’t say it, but he knew that’s what she meant. “Right.”
“Get rid of this stuff. I can’t even imagine what poor Vanessa would think if she saw you with this filth. Don’t mess things up with her—she’s a fine young lady.”
Vanessa. He hadn’t thought about her all day. Hell, he hadn’t thought about any woman since the new receptionist had started at work. He didn’t know what it was, but something about Brynn held him captive. He’d barely gotten a lick of work done in three days.
But he definitely couldn’t tell his aunt about Brynn. He knew Ros had heard wedding bells the minute he and Vanessa had started to see each other a few months ago. Both she and his uncle tag-teamed him regularly, pushing for him to make the relationship with the mayor’s daughter exclusive. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you.” Ros gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and then headed past him. He didn’t unclench his teeth until she’d clicked his door shut behind her.
Stalking to the couch, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hit speed dial.
His best friend answered on the first ring. “Hey, brother.”
“Jace, not only am I going to kill you, I’m going to do it slowly and painfully.” Reid sank onto the couch.
Jace laughed. “You must’ve gotten my present.”
“What were you thinking, sending this crap over here?” He lifted the handcuffs and examined them, heat rising in his gut as an image of him sliding the cool metal over the narrow wrists of a certain blonde receptionist filled his mind. He dropped them on the table. “My aunt opened it before I got home.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, now she’s ready to sign me up with the kiddie shrink again, because I’m apparently a rapist-in-training.”
Jace groaned. “Dude, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure
my sister didn’t see it. I told them to have it delivered to the guesthouse.”
Reid didn’t even want to ask what Jace could possibly need with all that stuff. He had enough crap to throw a goddamned orgy. “Just come and pick it up. I don’t need her bringing my uncle over here to see it.”
“Hey, look, take whatever you want from the box to keep,” he suggested. “It’s top-quality stuff. Consider it my apology for getting you in trouble.”
He eyed the different items that had tumbled out of the box—things meant to restrain a woman, to cause pain, to bring pleasure. He wet his lips. “It’s not my thing.”
“Uh-huh,” Jace said, his tone sly. “So you wouldn’t want to try some of that stuff out on that pretty receptionist you were drooling over today?”
He coughed, his throat threatening to close as erotic images crowded his brain. “It’s not for me.”
Liar. Imagining Brynn bound and naked had his cock straining against his pants. Hell, talking to her that afternoon had done as much. But he couldn’t tell Jace that—couldn’t tell anyone. He’d kept those urges in check for as long as he could remember, and he definitely wouldn’t risk screwing that up, especially with someone like Brynn. He liked her. Liked her enough not to inflict his darkest desires on her. No, with Brynn, he’d have to be extra careful.
THREE
Brynn waved as her date drove out of the dark parking lot. He’d received an emergency call and had to head to the hospital, saving Brynn the awkward end of night, this-ain’t-gonna-happen conversation. She leaned against the brick wall outside the banquet hall and rubbed her hands over her face. What a disaster of a night.
Thank God tomorrow was Sunday. At least she could sleep in and pretend the outside world didn’t exist for a little while. Maybe a day of pajamas, HGTV, and massive amounts of junk food could make her temporarily forget about facing Reid on Monday… and every workday after that. She groaned and tapped the back of her head against the wall, hoping maybe this was all some nightmare and she’d wake up.
“Sent him packing, huh?” The deep drawl caused her eyes to snap open. Reid leaned his shoulder against the wall, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
She crossed her arms over her chest and straightened. “He got called into work. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the half-empty parking lot. “Let me give you a ride home. It’ll give us some time to catch up.”
She couldn’t help the derisive laugh that bubbled to her lips. “No thanks, I have my car, and please tell me you’re not suggesting we need to catch up like old friends. Even you can’t be that dense.”
He angled toward her and planted a hand against the wall, right next to her head. His face moved to within inches of hers. “You really hate me that much, sugar?”
His calm, commanding tone and the old nickname sent goose bumps along her skin. She pressed her back against the wall, her heartbeat switching to double-time. Here it comes. She sucked in a ragged breath, and the smell of his cologne wrapped around her like a familiar blanket. Her muscles stiffened, bracing for the panic attack she knew would hit her at any moment. Being cornered sent all her fear triggers firing.
But the terror never came.
Instead, she couldn’t take her eyes off the sensual curve of his mouth. She remembered all too well the things he could do with those lips, that tongue—how he could tease her body without mercy and then when she’d thought she’d go mad with need, send her rocketing into oblivion. A heated shudder rumbled through her and a sharp ache settled between her thighs.
His finger slipped under her chin and tilted it upward, so that she had to meet his eyes. “Well?”
His voice was so close it was as if he’d climbed inside her head. She wet her lips. “I—”
The blaring ring of her cell phone jolted her from her haze. Reid frowned down at her purse and shoved away from the wall.
She dug through her bag with shaking hands and grabbed the phone. “Hello?”
“Brynn, it’s me.”
She sighed. Late-night calls from her sister usually meant one of two things: she needed money or she was in some kind of trouble. “Hey, Kelsey. What’s going on?”
“Are you busy? I know it’s late, I’m sorry, I just… I need to talk with you and I couldn’t wait until morning, and I… Can you talk?”
Shit. A rambling Kelsey—never a good sign. Brynn glanced at Reid, who was now sitting on the railing of the handicap ramp, watching her intently. She turned her back to him and faced the wall. “I have a minute, what’s up?”
“No, I mean, like, talk in person. Something’s going on, and I… well, I may need to get out of town for a while. But I want to talk to you first.”
“Hold up. Leave town? What are you talking about?” She lowered her voice. “Kels, are you on something?”
“No. It’s, I… Can you just meet me at my apartment? It’s important.”
Brynn pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off the sudden pounding in her head. The last thing she felt like doing was traipsing across town at midnight to go deal with what would surely be unfounded drama, but what else could she do? Her sister had been making slow progress toward bettering her life. If she was having a bout of paranoia or had slipped up and gotten high again, Brynn had to help her through that. Plus, Kelsey had no one else to go to—never had. “Sure, I can be there in half an hour.”
Kelsey breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, B. Hurry, okay?”
“Will do. Just hold tight.” Brynn clicked her phone shut and tucked it back in her bag. She didn’t want to turn around. She could feel Reid’s stare burning into her back. God, why had she let him get so close before? She needed to institute a five-foot rule with him—anything closer than that and her hormones could not be trusted. He’d probably seen the arousal written all over her flushed face.
“Your sister okay?” he asked.
She straightened her shoulders and turned around. “Eavesdrop much?”
He shrugged, unapologetic as usual.
“She’s fine. She just wants me to stop by,” Brynn said, rummaging through her purse for her keys.
“Right now?” He looked down at his watch.
She threw him a what’s-it-to-you look, grabbed her keys, and headed in the direction of her car. His hand caught her upper arm when she passed him. “We need to talk.”
She wiggled out of his grip, the skin-to-skin contact too much for her frazzled nervous system to handle. “I don’t have time for this tonight. My sister needs me and it’s not a short drive to Quincy Heights. So this little come-to-Jesus is going to have to wait.”
His frown dipped deeper. “Quincy Heights? You can’t go there at this hour. That neighborhood’s a war zone.”
She snorted. “I grew up in neighborhoods like that. I’ll be fine.”
She started walking again, but he hopped off the railing and caught up with her. “I’ll drive you. I promise not to speak… much.”
“Yes, because a hotshot lawyer in a Brooks Brothers suit is really going to scare off the bad guys.” She halted her step and turned to face him. “Look, Reid. The last time I asked for help, you told me no. I don’t plan on asking again. So, go home. Stop acting like there is some discussion we need to have. There isn’t. Everything’s been said. Just come to work on Monday and pretend like we’ve never met. ’Cause that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He eyed her, his jaw visibly flexing, but didn’t say anything else.
Good. She’d take his broody silence as agreement. She spun on her heel and didn’t bother to look back. Reid Jamison might’ve been able to bend her to his will when she was twenty, but if he thought his sexy smile and whispered commands would get him anywhere with her now, he was more delusional than her clients.
Brynn turned her car onto her sister’s street. The apartment complex was the last residential holdout on a street littered with pawnshops, bail bondsmen, and strip clubs. Reid hadn’t been off base in his assessment of the neighborhood. The Quincy Heights area probably had more hookers, drug addicts, and shootings than any other part of the city. Unfortunately, that type of area was more familiar to Brynn than the middle-class suburb she now called home. The part of Fort Worth she’d grown up in hadn’t looked much different than this.
She parked along the curb, then opened her glove compartment to grab her mace. She may have told Reid she could handle it alone, but she wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t going to go out on these streets this late at night with only a few self-defense training classes under her belt. Weapons were better. She tucked the mace in her purse and climbed out of the car.
Besides a woman in stilettos and spandex standing on the corner a few yards away, the sidewalk was empty. Brynn clicked the alarm on her car and hurried to the stairwell of the three-story apartment complex. She had tried to convince her sister to move closer to her—even offered to help with the costs—but Kelsey had been dancing at the club down the street and said she was perfectly fine here.
Brynn suspected Kelsey’s reluctance had more to do with her fear of being under Brynn’s watchful eye than commuting convenience, but Brynn hadn’t pushed. Her sister was making baby steps in the right direction, and she didn’t want to scare her off by being overbearing.