Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

“That wasn’t a nibble,” I say. “It’s like you were trying to suck my blood or something.”

“I’ll suck on something,” he says, as his hand comes up to cup my breast.

I can’t help it. I slap him. I slap him directly across the face. I hit him so hard that I have to shake the sting from my hand.

It’s in that second that I realize my front door is open, and then Logan charges across the room like a bull and hits Trip in the side, tumbling with him to the floor.

“Logan!” I cry, tugging on his shoulder. He has his hands around Trip’s throat and noises are coming from his mouth that I don’t understand. I’ve never seen him this angry, but apparently intense emotion affects his speech.

Trip grunts from beneath him, and I see what’s going to happen before it ever does. Trip reaches for an urn that’s on the floor by the couch, and he picks it up to hit Logan over the head with it. It bounces off his back, though, and just tumbles to the floor. It’s plastic, so I don’t know what Trip thought he was going to do with it.

“Let him up, Logan,” I say, getting my face down near his. “Let him up. He’s drunk.”

He doesn’t let him up, though. He keeps his knee on Trip’s chest. He’s not hurting him, but he’s holding him there. “What the f**k was he doing to you that made you slap him?” he asks.

“He’s drunk. Let him up so he can go to bed.”

Logan takes his thumbs off Trip’s windpipe, and Trip draws in a huge gulp of air. “Call the cops, Emily,” Trip starts screaming. Logan tightens his grip again.

“He has to shut the f**k up if he wants me to let him up.” He looks down at Trip. “I hate a f**king drunk,” he says. “I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to go to your room. Do you understand?”

Trip nods. Logan steps back, and Trip scrambles to his feet, nearly falling over in the process. “I should call the cops.”

“So I can tell them how you were assaulting me?” I ask.

He looks confused. “I just wanted to kiss you,” he whines. He’s not pretty when he drinks. Not at all.

I shake my head. “But I didn’t want to be kissed.” I blow out a huge breath. I feel as though someone pulled the stopper on a big balloon inside me. “Go to bed, Trip. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Trip nods, unsteady on his feet. He goes into his room and closes the door.

I draw in a deep breath, and Logan pulls me into him. I let him hold me because I think he needs it even more than I do. I step back and shake out my hand. I really hit Trip pretty hard, and my palm is still stinging.

“What did he do?” Logan bites out.

I shake my head. He’s not going to stop asking until I tell him. “He tried to kiss me. That’s all.” He lays his thumb on my lips.

“He kissed you?” he asks, his voice soft and reverent. His eyes search mine and I know he’s watching all my nonverbal cues.

“No,” I clarify, shaking my head. “He tried to kiss me. That’s a very different thing.” I unclip the barrette from my hair and brush it out with my fingers as I kick off my shoes. “What are you doing here?” I finally ask.

“I was worried about you,” he admits. His face is stony. “With good reason, apparently.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.” He helps me shrug out of my coat, and his hands on my arms are freezing. “Why are you so cold?” I ask.

“I rode the bike over here,” he admits.

“A bike?”

“A motorcycle, really,” he goes on to explain.

“You have a motorcycle?” I had no idea he owned a motorcycle.

“It’s Paul’s. He let me borrow it.” He tips my head to the side to look at my neck. “What the f**k is that?” he barks.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Emily.” He growls, and I expect to see him pound on his chest like an ape any second. That would be kind of hot, actually.

I don’t want to talk about it anymore. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say. “Can you help me get out of this dress?” I ask because I want to take his mind off my neck and the mark Trip left there.

He points me toward my room and pops me on my butt. “In the bedroom,” he says. He glares at Trip’s door.

“He’s out for the night. He won’t bother us.” I have seen Trip drunk enough times that I’m certain of it. “Can you stay the night?”

He follows me into the bedroom and closes and locks the door behind us. With a pensive look, he pulls my lower lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. I hadn’t even realized I was biting it.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to kill him when I saw his hands on you,” he says.

“Not nearly as much as I wanted to.” I turn my back to Logan, and he slides the zipper down slowly. He pushes my hair over my shoulder and presses his lips to my shoulder, making me go all quivery on the inside. “What made you come here?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I didn’t want to sleep without you.” He tweaks my nose as he starts to unbutton his shirt. He hangs it over the back of a chair, shaking the wrinkles out of it. The racks holding the clothes my mom sent over are still in the corner. “You know,” he says. “I was talking with Henry downstairs. Did you know his wife is so ill she’s in a nursing home?”