Walk On The Wild Side Read online

  “Why didn’t you call first? How did you even get in?” She yawned and shoved a tangle of blond hair out of her face.

  “I did call, you didn’t answer.” he said as he stripped off his long sleeve shirt. “And you left your front door unlocked, which made getting in easy for me or anyone else who wanted to get in here.”

  “Excuse me, I’m not used to men sneaking into my house at”—she squinted at the clock—“twelve eighteen at night.”

  “Well get used to it,” he said, flicking open the button on his jeans, “because as long as Jordan’s around, cramping our style, we’re going to have to make do.”

  “You’re very sure of your welcome,” she said in a prissy tone that never failed to make him grin as he fished a condom out of his wallet and set it on the bedside table.

  “You want me to go?” he said, his fingers pausing on the tab of his zipper.

  Based on the way her eyes were hungrily glued there, he was pretty sure of her answer. “I should say yes, just to make a point.” Her voice was all husky, and he felt his dick strain harder against his zipper.

  “But you’re not going to.” The buzz of the zipper echoed in the quiet room as he lowered it, then shoved his jeans and shorts down his legs in one smooth motion.

  She shook her head, already on her knees, reaching for him. “Not when I’ve missed this so much.”

  This. Not you. He shoved the thought out of his head. He was becoming a total chick over her, analyzing every word she said looking for deeper meaning.

  He pulled her against him, his hand fisting in her hair to tilt her head back to take his kiss. She eagerly sucked his tongue into her mouth, stroking it with her own, and the throaty little sounds she made sent an explosion of need sizzling through every cell.

  He yanked the tank top over her head, groaning at the feel of her soft tits with their rock hard nipples straining against his chest. His hand slid down her back, beneath the elastic waistband of her little red shorts. His palms closed over her round ass cheeks and gave them a greedy squeeze. “I missed you too,” he growled into the curve of her neck.

  “I can tell.”

  His breath hissed between his teeth as he felt her hand circle him, stroking him in a teasing, feather light touch that had him thrusting into her fist.

  He bent his head and captured a nipple between his lips, sucking hard, groaning as she stroked him harder, faster.

  He slid one hand around to the front of her shorts, sliding down and finding her, hot and slick with the evidence of how much she’d missed him. His fingers grazed her clit and she let out a sharp cry as her hand instinctively tightened around his cock.

  Unable to wait, he pushed her back against the pillows and reached for the condom, suiting himself up in record time.

  Then he was there, kneeling between her legs as she guided his cock to her tight, wet entrance. There was no gentleness, no finesse as he shoved deep in one hard thrust.

  Their groans echoed up to the ceiling as he sank so deep he could feel the soft curve of her ass against his balls. So hot, so tight. He squeezed his eyes tight against pleasure so fierce it made his arms shake and his eyes sting.

  She was squeezing around him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she squirmed to take him deeper. So good it made him almost frantic with need, pleasure thundering through him like a freight train, so out of control it was all he could do to simply hang on for the ride.

  His hips started to move in hard, heavy thrusts, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. But it didn’t matter because the way she was rocking her hips and moaning so loud he was afraid the neighbors were going to call the cops told him she wasn’t either.

  He hooked his elbows under her knees and pressed them up against her chest so he could take her harder, deeper. He looked down at her face, saw her watching him with heavy-lidded blue eyes. He tracked her gaze as it slid down his chest, his stomach, until it landed on where they were joined.

  He’d never seen anything more erotic than the sight of her pretty pink pussy stretched tight around his cock.

  He could feel her stomach muscles clench, knew she was close. He slid one hand down, found her clit with his thumb and felt her convulse around him. He watched himself sink all the way in, then out, riding her through her orgasm until it all became too much and he joined her in oblivion.

  As he collapsed on the bed and pulled her tightly against him one single thought crashed through his brain. Come hell or high water, he was never going to go another night without Molly.

  ###

  He was holding her tight, like he was afraid she was going to disappear. Which was fine with Molly, as she had him locked in her own death grip, arms and legs wrapped around his shoulders and hips. She buried her face in his neck, breathing in his soapy, musky scent, filling her lungs like it was oxygen. It was only because they’d had a break, she told herself, that she felt like she couldn’t get enough of his smell, of the feel of his silky skin under her fingers, the salty taste of his skin on her tongue.

  Of the feel of him still buried deep inside of her.

  It’s only been five days. Not nearly long enough to make you feel this desperate.

  But the truth was, she’d been going crazy without him, crazy enough that if he hadn’t shown up tonight, she wasn’t positive she wouldn’t have shown up at his place and thrown a handful of pebbles at his window to lure him out.

  Only the thought of Jordan catching her and the ensuing humiliation of being caught acting like a teenager by a teenager had kept her home. Barely.

  Speaking of…“So you’ve decided it’s safe to leave Jordan alone?”

  “It’s definitely a trust experiment,” Brady said as he propped himself up on his elbows. “And since he was asleep when I left I figure there’s less chance of him getting into trouble.”

  He bent and kissed her, long and deep, then lifted is head, grinning. “He likes you, by the way.”

  Molly arched an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “Thinks you’re hot too. Told me I should, and I quote, ‘tap that.’”

  She gave him a playful swat on the shoulder. “That’s terrible. He’s a kid.”

  “He’s sixteen, and I doubt he’s a virgin, and he’s got good taste like his uncle.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s a heartbreaker like his uncle.”

  “I’ve broken a lot fewer than you seem to think.”

  “I guess we all know better than to give you our hearts.”

  His teeth bared in a grin that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. Behind it, he looked angry, maybe even a little hurt.

  She wanted to apologize but she wasn’t sure what for. Instead she brought her hand to his cheek, felt him relax a little as she traced her fingers against the rasp of stubble. As she traced the hard lines and angles of his face, she remembered the conversation she’d had with Jordan. “It’s hard to imagine you changing diapers.”

  “What?” His head recoiled and his eyes widened in a semi-panicked look.

  “Jordan said you took care of him when he was a baby.”

  His breath whooshed out of his chest. “Oh, that. For a second I thought you were hinting at something.”

  She couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Ha! No. I was just looking at you, all big and hard and fierce looking, and it’s hard to imagine you as a baby person.”

  He shrugged. “I wouldn’t exactly call myself that, but yeah, I did a fair share of babysitting him when he was little.” He skimmed his palm down her back.

  “That’s so sweet.”

  “I didn’t have much choice. My sister sure as hell wasn’t interested in taking care of him and neither was anyone else. Wasn’t Jordan’s fault he’d been born into our family. Someone had to get him a bottle, change his diaper, shit like that.”

  An image of fifteen-year-old Brady cradling his infant nephew flashed in her mind. He would have looked exactly like Jordan did now. Tall and a little gangly, his face boyishly handsome.

  “
It wasn’t too bad. Jordan was a happy little kid. Fat, smiley.”

  His lips curved into a half smile and Molly felt her heart roll in her chest at the almost wistful look on his face. “Anyway, it was good training for when I eventually have kids of my own. I won’t be totally clueless.”

  Considering what she’d learned about his relationship with Jordan, hearing him say it shouldn’t come as such a shock. Nevertheless, her body jerked in surprise. “You want kids?”

  He frowned at her. “Sure. Doesn't everybody?”

  “I guess so,” she said. Now the image in her brain morphed to an adult Brady, in all of his grown up big bad assed-ness, holding an infant with that same wistful expression. She felt a twisting sensation low in her core and was pretty sure she’d just ovulated.

  She gave herself a mental smack. Brady’s revelation that he wanted kids someday should not be turning her insides into a warm pile of goo. “Knowing you, you’ll be one of those guys who holds out until he’s seventy and then knocks up a twenty five year old.”

  He gave her butt a playful swat. “Just like there’s such a thing as being too young to have a baby, there’s such a thing as being too old. There’s something fucked up about a parent going back into diapers just when your kid is getting out of them. I figure I need to have them while I can still run them down if I need to.”

  Molly forced a laugh, trying not to think about Brady and his future children and why the thought of the future mother of his children in particular made her feel a little sick. “Speaking of too young,” she said, forcing her mind onto a less nauseating topic, “how old was your sister when she had Jordan?”

  “Two years older than me. Seventeen.”

  “What about Jordan’s dad?”

  She felt the muscles of his chest flex as he shrugged. “She never said who it was—I don’t think she even knows.”

  Molly’s brow furrowed. “How could she not know?”

  His laugh rumbled out of his chest. “Because, goody two shoes, when you sleep with half a dozen different guys in a week, it can be hard to pin one down as your baby daddy.”

  She felt her cheeks heat. “She could have gotten a DNA test—”

  Brady cut her off. “The guys she was doing were a bunch of losers who wouldn’t have done any better than she did.”

  She was quiet for several seconds. “He’s lucky he has you.”

  He sighed. “I don’t know about that. I haven’t been around as much as I should have been, but…”

  “You don’t like to go home.”

  He didn’t say anything for several seconds, and she started to think that was the last glimpse she was going to get into Brady’s life before Big Timber. “No. I haven’t been back since I left for basic. I’ve only seen Jordan a handful of times since when I could afford a ticket and convince his mom to let him come visit.”

  “But you went back in August,” she said. “Why then?”

  “Jordan needed me,” he said simply.

  After a long moment of silence it became clear he was going to offer no further details. “Then you shouldn’t beat yourself up so much for not being around. You did what you could, and when it came down to it, you were there when he needed you, and you’re here for him now. You do a lot more than some people,” she said. A hazy memory of her father, standing on the front steps with his arms folded as Adele drove Molly and Ellie out of his life crept into her head.

  His lips quirked in a half smile, his expression uncharacteristically soft. “You let people off the hook too easily.”

  She pursed her lips ruefully. “Probably because I learned early on to have low expectations of everyone but myself. Or because I’m so scarred by my father’s abandonment that I’m afraid if I challenge people they’ll leave me.”

  “You challenge me all the time.”

  She smiled, but her throat felt oddly tight. “It’s different with you.” I know better than to have any expectations.

  His silver gaze narrowed but he didn’t probe further.

  Her thoughts drifted back to her father. “It’s weird. I barely thought about my father before my therapist brought him up.”

  He stiffened against her. “You have a therapist?”

  “Sadie thought it was a good idea, after everything with Josh went down. She’s probably right—anyone who clings to a relationship for ten years when the other person is barely interested clearly has issues, right?”

  “What do you tell her about me?” he asked warily.

  She rolled her eyes. “God, you sound like Ellie and my mom. All they care about is if I’m badmouthing them to Dr. Stewart. But you don’t have to worry,” she leaned up and pressed her lips to his in a gentle peck. “I don’t talk about you.”

  “Why not?” Now he sounded offended rather than wary. “I don’t at least warrant a mention?”

  She laughed softly. “You are the only part of my life I don’t need to pick apart and analyze to figure out what’s going on. That’s a good thing, by the way,” she said when his lips tightened in a frown. “But we do talk about my dad a lot, and how that relationship made me glom on to Josh and his family like a remora on a shark and refuse to let go.”

  “So have you used that address you found yet?’ His hand came up to cradle her cheek and she leaned into it like a cat.

  “Not yet,” she replied, loving the feel of his callused palm against her skin. “He’s had no interest in seeing us up to this point, so there’s no reason he would be open to it now. And there’s only so much rejection I can take. But at the same time, I feel like as long as I have realistic expectations, I don’t want to let this go completely without giving it one last chance.”

  As the words spilled out of her mouth, she wondered why it was so easy to talk to him about this when she hadn’t discussed it with anyone outside of her therapy sessions.

  Probably because Brady had so many secrets of his own that deep down she knew she could trust him to keep hers.

  “Sounds like you have your answer.”

  Molly bit her lip, wishing it felt that cut and dried. “Ellie has no interest, and I’m worried that if I contact him, I’m bringing him back into everyone’s life, not just mine.”

  Brady smiled and threaded his fingers through her hair. “You’ve spent too much time making sure everyone else gets what they want and need. You need to do what you need. What’s going to make it better for you?”

  “I need to contact him. I need to ask him why.”

  Chapter 10

  Brady returned from his run the next morning to find Jordan at the kitchen table slumped over a bowl of cereal. He gave his nephew a good morning nod as he walked into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water and chugged it. Jordan mumbled a greeting and shoveled a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. He paused, then reached for the sugar bowl in front of him and dumped in a half dozen spoonfuls before Brady could snatch it away.

  “Lay off. I don’t have dental insurance.”

  “You have to put a lot of sugar on Cheerios or else they taste like cardboard,” Jordan grumbled, but continued to wolf down his breakfast. “Can’t you get some better cereal? Like Cocoa Puffs or something?”

  The mere thought made Brady’s teeth ache. It wasn’t the first time this week Jordan had complained about the food Brady chose to stock. So far, Brady had gotten an earful about the ‘gravel bread’ (whole wheat) and ‘hippie peanut butter’ (all natural, sugar free).

  “I already told you, you want to buy the groceries, you can buy whatever you like.”

  Jordan rolled his eyes and emptied the bowl while Brady went to the refrigerator. He pulled out eggs, cheese, bell peppers, and green onions, and set to work making himself an omelet.

  “I don’t want onions in mine,” Jordan said.

  “Who says you get one?”

  “Come on, I’ll do the dishes,” Jordan said as he got up from the table and started over to where Brady was chopping onions on a cutting board.

  Brady shot him a gl
are and looked pointedly at the empty bowl on the table, surrounded by dribbles of milk.

  He felt a mild shot of triumph when Jordan stopped in his tracks and turned to retrieve his dishes. A vast improvement from two mornings ago, when Brady had had to tell him four times to clear them.

  “Deal. Grab me another omelet pan from the cabinet.” He poured some oil into the pan he already had going and went to work on the bell pepper.

  Jordan set the pan on the burner next to the other pan as Brady added the onions to his and divvied up the bell pepper between the two.

  “So you have fun last night?” Jordan asked as the smell of cooking onions filled the kitchen, making Brady’s stomach growl.

  His hand holding the spatula froze for a split second as he stirred the cooking vegetables. “As fun as any night I fall asleep in front of SportsCenter,” he replied blithely.

  “Uh huh, riiiiight,” Jordan said.

  Brady looked up and met Jordan’s knowing, cat’s who got the canary look.

  “Something you want to talk about?” Brady asked as he scraped the vegetables back onto the cutting board.

  “Just wondering why I heard your truck pulling in around two.”

  “What were you doing up at two?” He cracked the eggs into bowl, added a dash of milk, and whisked it until it got frothy. Damn it, he’d counted on Jordan being a deep enough sleeper to miss the sound of his truck and its loud American engine.

  Maybe it was time to trade it in for a Prius.

  “I had to pee.”

  Brady grunted and poured the eggs into the two pans, swirling one, then the other.

  “So where’d you go?” Jordan prodded.

  “Out,” Brady looked up and hit him with a stony gaze that would have shut up anyone else on the planet.

  “Who is she?”

  “What makes you think there’s a she involved?”

  “Are you suddenly into dudes?”

  Brady gave him another glare. Jordan kept on going. “You left after midnight and didn’t want me to know. Figure you’re either getting laid or doing something illegal. I know you’re not going to do anything illegal so…”