Beast Brothers 2

Something has changed in the last twenty-four hours. The men I was furious at a day ago are just as bossy and controlling as ever. But their dominance has somehow gone from intolerable to sexy.

It feels as though some sort of alchemy happened last night, while Alex and I slept, or didn’t sleep. Like our breath mingled in the air of the apartment, and then went back into us mixed together, so that he — and via him, his brother — are inside me. Part of me.

I can’t resist them any more than I could rip myself in two.

Lucas’s pronouncement is made with absolute conviction, as if it’s already happened. There are no alternate paths, no roads that do not lead to the destination he’s mapped out for us. He’s not angry. It almost feels like it, because the emotion coming from him is so unyielding, but no. He’s confident. He is pure alpha male at this moment, determined to master me.

And some part of me I didn’t even know existed is not just willing, but eager to submit. Because if I do, I’ll find out just what he’s capable of — and after what he’s already shown me, curiosity and hunger are a potent mixture.

I’m transfixed by the promise in his eyes. Part of me wants to goad him into action. Close the tiny gap between us, and brush my fingers against the sinews in his forearm. Or say something defiant. It wouldn’t be that difficult to push him over the edge into what we both want.

But I have just enough sanity left to resist that impulse. Swallowing hard, I say, “I … uh … I should get ready for work.”

My voice trembles. We’re so attuned at this moment that he doesn’t mistake it for fear. A muscle flexes in his jaw, and for one long, simmering moment I think he’s not going to let me go.

Then he steps back, and I slide past him and hurry off to my bedroom and then the bathroom. As soon as I’m away from him, and the gravitational field of his presence, I can think. While I hurry through my preparations, I’m cursing myself.

The Wolf brothers have turned my life upside down and they’re just getting started. Part of me still can’t be sorry for the amazing night I had with them, but another part wishes I’d never met them.

One thing I’m sure of. If they think they can run roughshod over me, they’re going to learn that Zoe Kelleher is no pushover.

19

A Simple Matter

Lucas

Damn this assignment.

If we’d gotten it before we met Zoe, this would all be manageable. She’d still be tempting and sexy as hell, and probably flirting with both of us. But we could handle it if we hadn’t already tasted her. If we didn’t know exactly what it’s like to have her.

Knowing that — and knowing she’s determined to deny us more — makes this sheer hell. But I’m keeping my head in the game, because it’s the job and I’m damned good at what I do. And because letting anything happen to her is out of the question.

While she gets ready, I block out the image of her in the shower and the games we could play if I joined her there, and I check in with our team on their assignments. Kelleher’s other kids all live at home with him and his second wife, so it’s a matter of securing their routes to and from school and extracurricular activities.

Zoe’s the wild card — both the least logical target and the most vulnerable one. I’m glad her father included her in the job. He may be a bastard, but at least he cares enough for that. Of course, if he hadn’t included her we’d be protecting her anyway.

Two of our guys are at the boutique now, and the manager is giving them trouble about putting in the security. I’m going to have to go in there and explain the situation. Alex is on his way back to handle the installation here.

The sounds I hear from the bathroom tell me she’s nearly ready. I get a bowl from her cupboard, and some yogurt and fruit from her fridge, and fix her breakfast. When Zoe comes out from the bathroom, coffee mug still in hand, I’ve got it sitting on the counter that edges her kitchen island.

Even though she’s put on makeup, I can still see the shadows under her eyes. I don’t like seeing what this is doing to her, and I like even less that I’m partly responsible for the stress she’s under. But she’s in my blood now, and I can’t just walk away.

“We should get going.” Her voice is brittle and she doesn’t meet my eyes. She’s put her armor back on, but I know how easily it cracks.

“Eat first,” I say, gesturing to the bowl.

She looks at it and blinks. Goes up to the counter, looks at the contents, and blinks some more. Clears her throat. “Thanks. But … I’m just going to grab a pastry at the coffee shop later.”

“You need real food, not crap.”

Her eyes narrow. “Really, Dad?”

I close the distance between us and she stiffens, her muscles locking with the effort not to back away from me, like she did earlier. Stopping when I’m well inside her personal space, I watch the change happen. When I’m this close, she can’t lie to herself anymore.

Her skin flushes, her lips part, and her pupils dilate. Her chest heaves with her uneven breathing, her nipples poking against her dress. And just like it did the first time, it gets me hard as a rock.

“Eat the food, Zoe,” I say softly. “You can always have a pastry later.” If you’re good, I want to add, just to push her buttons, but we’re not there yet.

“I already brushed my teeth.”

I lean in, until our lips are just a hair’s breadth apart. “Brush them again.” She actually closes her eyes, then, and it takes all my self-control to pull back instead of kissing the hell out of her.

When she looks at me again it’s to say, “I’m going to be late.” She’s just making excuses now, any flimsy reason she can think of not to do what I’ve told her. If she really understood the games she’s playing, the way she’s baiting me, she’d pick her battles more carefully.

“You can eat it in the car,” I say, because we do need to get there. “You’ve got a toothbrush at work, right?”

Out of arguments, she starts to speak, then stops. “Okay, fine,” she says at last. “But for future reference, I’m perfectly capable of making my own food choices. I’m just eating this so it won’t go to waste.”

I hold back a smile. “Whatever you say,” I agree, with impressive solemnity and not a single remark about pastries. She shoots me a suspicious glance before she grabs the bowl and we go out to my car.