Flare, page 16
But I have no idea. I don’t feel like I know my father at all.
And I’m not sure I know my uncle either.
But these two blond men, my cousins, I know them.
And together we’ll figure this out.
“Uncle Talon?”
“Yes, Brock?”
“Have Dale and Donny told you about the nurse who poisoned you?”
Uncle Talon draws in a deep breath. “They have.”
“So what do you think? Who could be behind all of this?”
“The only people who I know for sure could be behind this are dead,” Uncle Talon says.
“My father says the same thing, but what if they’re not?”
“They are.”
“But are they, though? My father also told me that his father—your father—faked his own death twice.”
“Yes, he did.”
“And the other guys—the ones who…”
“It’s okay, Brock. You can say it.”
Except I can’t. I can’t say those dreadful words. Something in my throat keeps them lodged. So I continue as if I said them. “Are you sure they’re all dead?”
“Tom Simpson, Uncle Bryce’s father, killed himself in front of your father.”
“Yes. He told me.”
“And Larry Wade died in prison, so either he was killed, or he killed himself.”
“And what about the other one? Aunt Ruby’s father?”
“Wendy Madigan killed him, and we were all witness to it.”
“I know. I get it. But my father said he was witness to our grandfather’s death as well. Twice.”
“Brock,” Donny says. “These people would be really old by now.”
“I know that. But damn… Who else would have something against us?”
“It could be any number of people,” Uncle Talon says. “My father had his share of enemies.”
“But why?”
Uncle Talon shakes his head. “We don’t know all the answers, Brock. I wish we did. I know for sure that Tom Simpson is dead. His brains were splattered all over his own kitchen. Just ask your father.”
Just ask your father…
But that also means trusting that my father is telling me the truth.
And I hate to say it, but…I no longer trust any of these people to tell me the truth.
“Who would want you dead, Uncle Talon?”
“I don’t know, Brock.”
“Who would want my father dead?”
“Again…I don’t know.”
“Uncle Talon…damn it. What aren’t you telling us?”
“Hey,” Dale says. “Watch it.”
“I get it, Dale. You’re totally protective of your father, and I don’t blame you, but we have all these pieces to a puzzle, and none of them fit together.”
“It’s okay, son,” Uncle Talon says to Dale. “Brock has valid questions, and I wish I had valid answers.”
“We’re going to find the motherfucker who tried to kill you, Dad,” Dale says. “I will take that to the grave.”
“Don’t you take anything to the grave, son. That would kill your mother. Besides, you have a new wife. You’ll have a family soon. You will not give your life for any of this. Do you understand me? That goes for the two of you, as well.” He nods to Donny and me, and then he rises. “You know what? I think we could all use a drink.”
I rise as well. “I’m going to pass. But thank you.”
“Brock, I love you. I love you like you’re my own child. I feel that same way about all my nieces and nephews. We all do.”
I nod. “I know that.”
“Trust me when I say we only kept this information from you because we thought we could protect you.”
“That’s what you get for thinking, I guess.” I walk out of Uncle Talon’s office, down the hallway, through the foyer, and out the door.
On my way I text Rory.
Meet me at my place. Please.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rory
It doesn’t even occur to me to say no. I’m tired, and my nerves are on edge from the dinner with my parents and then Dale’s phone call to Donny.
But Brock needs me.
So I go.
I’m waiting in my car when he drives up.
“Hey,” he says. “I’m sorry. I figured I’d get here before you did.”
“No problem.”
“Easy enough. I’ll get you a key, and all the security codes. That way you don’t have to wait out here.”
“That’s not necessary, Brock.”
“It is. I love you, Rory, and I don’t want to keep any secrets from you. I’ve seen what secrets do to relationships.”
“Giving me a key to your place isn’t like telling me a secret,” I say.
“But it is. Don’t you see? I want you in every part of my life.”
I warm all over. “You do?”
“Yeah, I do. And yeah, it scares the shit out of me, but it is what it is.”
I smile, and he leads me into the house. Sammy rushes around us, pimping herself out for scratches behind her ears, and we oblige. Then Brock lets her out the back door to do her business.
He touches my cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
“You said please.” I smile.
“I did. Is that why you came?”
I shake my head. “I would have come anyway. I love you. But you don’t strike me as the kind of man who says please a lot.”
“I seem to say it a lot now. With you.”
“I like that. I like that you want me with you that much. That you’re willing to say please.”
“Oh, sweetheart…you have no idea how much I want you. But I honestly didn’t call you over here for sex.”
“It doesn’t matter if you did.”
“I won’t turn you down”—he gives me a rakish smile—“but I just wanted to be with you. You’re like my safe place, Rory.”
“And you’re mine.”
“I never thought I’d need a safe place.”
“There’s no shame in needing a safe place.” I trace his lips with my finger.
“I know. It’s just… I never thought…”
“It’s okay. Families aren’t perfect.” I sigh. “I should know.”
“I never thought they were. But I did at least think that my family—the Steels—were upright citizens. The best of the best.”
“Maybe they still are.”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. I just don’t know.”
“Let me take you to bed,” I say. “You can forget about it, at least for tonight.”
He kisses me then. A beautiful kiss—and though it’s not as raw and needy as most of our kisses, it’s full of love. Full of safety.
Which is what he needs.
I take the lead, which I’m not sure I’ve ever done with Brock, but I feel he needs it right now. I don’t mind taking the lead. In fact, I like it.
I entwine his fingers through mine and walk toward his bedroom.
His bed is unmade, and I can’t help a smile. Doesn’t matter.
I cup his cheeks, look into his dark eyes. “I love you.”
He groans. “God, I love you too, Rory.”
I unbutton his shirt slowly, even though I want to rip it in half and watch the buttons fly.
But I feel like slow is what he needs right now.
Slow and safe.
With each new inch of skin I expose, I trail my lips over him. Over his warm flesh, his bulging muscle. When I get to the last button, kissing his abdomen, I part the shirt and brush it over his shoulders.
I stand back for a moment, admire his beauty.
And he is beautiful. Masculine and magnificent and so beautiful.
Of all the men and women I’ve been with in my life, no one compares to Brock Steel in pure physical magnificence. In the pure lustful attraction that I feel.
I kneel before him, unbuckle his belt, unsnap his jeans.
I push them over his strong hips along with his underwear.
His giant cock springs forward, alert and ready.
I kiss its tip, and he lets out a moan.
“God, sweetheart.”
“You’re beautiful,” I breathe.
“No, you are.”
I wrap my lips around his cockhead and suck gently.
His hands go into my hair then, pulling it out of the ponytail and letting it flow over my shoulders.
“Rory…”
I pull back, widen my eyes.
“I need to be inside you.”
“In good time.” I return to my work on his cock.
He’s amazing—beautiful and amazing—and giving him head is pure pleasure. I suck on him for a few moments, relishing the groans coming from his throat, and then I rise, push him to the bed, and pull off his boots, socks, jeans, and underwear. Then I kneel back between his legs and take his cock between my lips once more.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, sweetheart.”
“For now,” I say and then return to this gorgeous cock.
I suck him slowly, languidly, the ultimate tease.
I don’t want him to get too worked up, because he wants to be inside me and I want him there.
But for now? This is a safe place, and I want to do this for him.
Once he’s lubed up with my saliva, I add my hand to increase the friction.
Slowly, a painful tease, I’m sure…
Until he pushes my head away.
“Need you. Now.”
I stand and remove my clothes. Then I turn. “Where are your condoms?”
“Forget the condom,” he says through clenched teeth. “Get back here. Now.”
I obey him.
I obey him because even if I’m not pregnant, I’m at a point in my cycle where it’s unlikely I could get pregnant.
I obey him because I want him now, sans barrier.
I obey him because, even though I never thought I’d obey any man, it feels right to obey Brock Steel in the bedroom.
I climb on top of him and sink down on his hard cock.
And I’m filled. Filled to the brim, and my God, he stretches me so exquisitely.
“Brock…” I breathe.
He captures my lips in a kiss. This is no sweet kiss like before. This is a patented Brock Steel kiss. Harsh and passionate, and I feel it through every part of my body, all the way down to the tops of my toes.
But mostly I feel it in my pussy that’s full of his cock. I position my knees and begin moving around on him, savoring the delicious burn, the flares of fire as he tunnels into me.
He groans into my mouth, into my whole body, and I quiver as lightning strikes me.
My mouth is still fused to his, and my groans…my screams… They’re muffled, but they’re there.
My whole world becomes my body, my pussy, my heart joined to this man.
I move quickly, letting the orgasm flow through me because I want him to join me.
Up, down, up, down… I fuck him hard, fast, and with each stroke, my orgasm plummets me further within the cocoon that is protecting me, enveloping me.
He breaks the kiss then and lets out a long groan. “Coming… Coming so hard…”
He presses me down on his cock, and he’s buried in me balls deep, the end of my orgasm still flowing through me as I feel his release pump into me.
We sit there, my head embedded in his shoulder, our chests clamped together with perspiration.
We stay that way.
For a long, long time.
Chapter Thirty
Brock
Just what I needed.
Rory can read me like no other. She knew exactly what I needed, and she gave it to me.
I hope someday I can do the same for her.
I have no idea how long we stay joined together, her on top of me and my dick embedded inside her.
But it’s a long time.
“I love you,” I whisper against her neck.
“I love you too.”
I maneuver us gently and pull the covers over us. I kiss her on the top of her head. “Stay. Please.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I wake before my alarm, which is unlike me. Rory has moved to the other side of the bed and is softly snoring.
Yes, the most beautiful woman in Snow Creek snores.
I won’t tell her. It’s too cute.
I pull her close to me, and she lets out a soft sigh without opening her eyes.
And I’m thinking…
I move downward, taking the covers with me.
I think I want pussy for breakfast.
I lick her softly, slowly. Sweet, sweet Rory.
Above me, she moves, making the soft noises of someone waking up relaxed.
I nibble on her clit, and her hands thread through my hair.
“Morning…” she murmurs.
“Morning,” I say against her wet thigh.
“Feels good…”
“Tastes good…” I growl. And then I continue my work.
Within a few seconds, she’s coming, and I crawl forward and push myself into her wet heat.
Slowly we make love as the morning sun begins to rise.
Afterward, we lie in each other’s arms, until Sammy rustles me up.
“I’ve got to let the dog out,” I say.
“Okay.” Rory rolls away from me.
I rise, throw on my jeans from last night, and make my way to the kitchen to let Sammy out the back. Then I put on a pot of coffee and make Sammy’s breakfast. Once she comes back in and is eating, I pour two cups of coffee and go to get Rory.
I nudge her. “Sweetheart, I have to get ready. Do you have lessons today?”
“Mmm-hmm. Not until ten, though.”
“Do you want me to set your alarm for you?”
“No. I’ll get up with you.” She doesn’t open her eyes, though.
“You’re so cute,” I say.
That gets her eyes open. “I’m not cute, Brock Steel.”
“Did I say cute? I meant beautiful. Breathtakingly beautiful.”
“That’s better.” This time she stretches her arms above her head and actually pulls herself into a sitting position. “I should go home. I’ve been neglecting my poor dog.”
“Why don’t you bring your dog over here?”
That gets her wide awake. “What?”
“Move in with me.”
Her jaw drops.
And I have to keep my own jaw from dropping. Did I really just ask this woman to move in with me?
“Brock…”
“I know. Crazy, right? But I really want you to.”
“I…”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I mean, you just sprang this on me.”
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you too, but moving in… That’s big, Brock. Really big.”
Yeah, it’s big. Part of me can’t believe the words came out of my mouth. Me. Brock Steel. Infamous Steel playboy.
But I don’t regret the words. Not at all.
“Maybe I want big with you, Rory.”
“But we haven’t talked about the future…”
“No, we haven’t. Why do we need to talk about the future? We’re happy today. We love each other today.”
“Moving in is a big commitment.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
“Are you kidding me?” She stands, paces around the room in her glorious nakedness.
“I’m not kidding about anything,” I say.
“Brock, we’ve been in love for…what, a day? Two? Moving in is a big step.”
I’ve heard the stories about my parents and all my aunts and uncles—the stories about how we Steels fall hard and fall fast. Then I watched it happen to Dale and Donny.
I never believed it would happen to me. Never in a million years. But it has. It has totally happened to me.
“It doesn’t have to be such a big step, Rory.”
“How can you not see this?” She shakes her head as she shimmies into her jeans. “Moving in together is one step below marriage.”
“Then marry me,” I say.
The words are as big a surprise to me as they are to her.
But I can’t unsay them. I don’t want to unsay them.
“For God’s sake, Brock.” She steps into her shoes. “I’m not marrying you or anyone.”
“Ever?”
“Not today, anyway.”
I rub at my jawline. Has she forgotten she may be pregnant? Why isn’t she all over this? “Rory, where is this going, then? I mean…” I glance at her abdomen.
She sighs. “I just got out of a relationship, Brock. You know this. And I love you. I love you more than I loved Raine. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. But it’s too soon. How can you not see that?”
“How can you say it’s too soon when you might be pregnant with my kid?”
Her eyes widen.
I went a step too far.
“Rory… I’m sorry.”
“Oh, God…” She walks into my arms. “I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“You haven’t done anything to be sorry for.”
“The truth is, I love the idea. I just don’t want to love the idea.”
“Moving in? Getting married?”
“Both.” She sighs. “I love them both.”
“How long did it take Donny and Callie to fall in love?” I ask.
“Not long.”
“It didn’t take us long either.”
She pulls back and looks at me. “I feel like it’s not fair to you, to be honest.”
“How can it not be fair to me? It was my idea.”
“I know, but I don’t want people to say I married you on the rebound.”
“Who gives a fuck what people say? I don’t.”
“I really don’t either.” She shakes her head. “I gave up giving a fuck what people said years ago. You kind of have to when you’re bisexual.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“It’s just too soon.”
“Rory, look at me.”
She meets my gaze, and my God, her eyes are beautiful. So loving and tortured and beautiful.
“Do you love me?” I ask.
“More than anything,” she says. “You know that. I love you so much, Brock.”
“And I love you. I’ve never been in love before, Rory. It’s all new to me. But I can’t imagine, for one moment, ever not being in love with you.”
