Escalation Clause (6 page)

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Authors: Liz Crowe

BOOK: Escalation Clause
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“God, help me,” he said, his voice quaking, before tugging her close, plunging his tongue between her lips. His hands slid down her waist, cupped her ass. She groaned into his mouth at the feel of his erection pressed against her stomach. She was like a live wire, thrumming and buzzing, even if only between her own ears. He back walked her a few steps, propped her against the tall fence. She raised one leg, and he gripped it, pulling it up his tall firm body. His desire was a living thing, centered in the amazing press of his sex against her.

She ran a shaking hand down to his hip, then back up, loving the play of muscles under her touch. He broke away, his breathing heavy, and cradled her face between his large hands. His eyes shone in the firelight. She smiled, tilted her hips as she leaned back, wanting something so badly she was about to explode, unable to name, or even fully understand it. She simply dropped into the void—let it take her to a place she was more than willing to go. Her hips moved against him, making him moan and kiss his way up her neck. He cupped a breast, ran his thumb across her nipple. She shuddered as her skin flushed with blood. “Oh,” she gasped as he shoved a strong thigh between hers, bringing a blessed contact against her sex.

Then as if a switch had flipped, he stopped, dropped her to her feet and stepped away, looking around into the gloom. The noises had only grown louder as the party got a little more drunk, high or whatever. She didn’t care. She glared at him. “What?” She demanded, a little too loudly.

“I…I can’t do this.” He took another step away. The look in his eyes was alarming, but he’d ignited a fire in her she refused to ignore.

“I want it, Brandis. I mean…I want you to, you know….” Blood rushed to her face when he grimaced. She’d obviously misread him. “Oh, sorry. I get it.” She started to shove her way past him. He caught her arm, the connection sending a shaft of lust straight through her. “Don’t touch me. I mean it.”

“No, you don’t,” the sound of his voice made her shut her eyes against the urge to jump him, to force him to take her in the corner of his family’s lawn. “But I won’t do this Mo. At least,” he tugged her close, making her bite her lip to keep from groaning at the feel of his body against hers, “not yet.” He nipped her earlobe, brushed his lips over hers. “And not here. Don’t get me wrong.” He cupped her chin, stared deep into her soul. Her heart did a scary flip in her chest. She made herself look away.

“About what? C’mon, Brandis, I know you’re an expert at the deflowering thing.” Maureen glared at the tall, handsome guy—once just her brother’s friend, now the star in her most fevered erotic fantasies.

He frowned, and stepped away from her again, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s all you want?” He stared at her. Her teeth started to chatter, her knees shook but she stood tall, meeting his gaze.

“Maybe,”. The straight forward young woman in her ached to tell him what she really wanted—his arms back around her, his lips on hers…forever.

“Fine.” He stepped close once more, looming over her. One hand gripped her neck as he lowered his lips to hers. She trembled in anticipation.

“Taylor!” Her brother’s sharp voice broke through the lusty fog making them leap away from each other. Mo repressed a nervous laugh at how guilty they must look. “Where the hell is….” He pushed the curtain of the weeping willow tree aside as Brandis  shoved her behind him. “My sister.” Jack crossed his arms, glaring at them both.

“I’m fine, Jack. Jesus.” Mo stepped out from behind Brandis, wiping at her eyes. “I was just…you know, upset about the jerk in the pool. Brandis got me a beer and, um….” She watched her brother’s eyes narrow at her, then at his friend. Brandis shrugged and handed her a cup he picked up from a nearby chair, trying to sustain the illusion. A wild hysterical laugh nearly escaped her, but she forced it down under a solid layer of angry. She still hummed with need but knew the moment was over. She stomped away, into the house, ignoring all the partiers and hid in the bathroom for twenty minutes; mortified at herself, aggravated at her brother and flat out horny.

By the time she emerged, the party had taken on a coupled-off vibe. Almost every corner of the Taylor house provided refuge for making out. Blind with lust for the one guy she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—have, she shouldered past a few straggling people in the kitchen and headed for the basement. The extra Gatorade and other drinks were in the fridge down there and she needed to hydrate if she was going to make it to work the next day. She heard Jack’s low chuckle and a corresponding female giggle somewhere near the stairway.

Her mind still spun with combined embarrassed mortification and overheated libido when her feet hit the basement floor. A sound made her stop dead in her tracks and look to the left where three large leather couches dominated a room stocked with a TV and pool table. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the vision of Brandis’ deep brown skin away. She tucked herself under the steps, realizing if she made a move in any direction, they would see her. The unmistakable sound of his breathy next words made her blush to the ends of her hair.

“Come for me.”

At the sound of his whispered command, she very nearly did exactly that. Gripping the tread of the step, she tried not to watch, but the scene unfolding in front of her eyes made her weak-kneed, even more wet in the bikini, and dangerously jealous.

The girl moaned, and Mo caught a flash of the creamy white skin of the girl’s leg as she draped it over Brandis’ dark shoulder. Her red toe nailed foot dug into the muscles of his back. One of his large hands clutched the girl’s ass, as he lowered his lips between her legs. A shaft of moonlight caught the couple, just as the girl raised her hips high and cried out, her hand now on his short hair, holding him in place. Mo’s eyes widened and she put a hand over her mouth, but kept watching as Brandis rose up over the mewling, writhing girl, his lips wet. She stared at his hand tugging a condom down over his…
holy shit
. Mo slammed her eyes shut, the memory of the sight of his long, thick cock burned into her retinas.

“Ready, baby,” he growled as he licked his way up every inch of her skin. The moonlight caught his eyes. Mo had to bite her palm to keep from groaning aloud at the raw lust she saw there. Lust, not for her, the silly teenaged, besotted virginal sister of his friend, but for the lush, sexy woman who’d come all over his face.

The girl wrapped her legs around his waist and they moved together in an ancient dance of eroticism. Their hips shifted, rolled and the girl started to pant and beg, “Harder, faster.” Mo tried not to watch anymore, but could not resist. The play of the muscles in his shoulders, back and ass as he thrust in and withdrew, as he leaned down to suck her nipple then capture her lips at the last minute hypnotized her. He moved fast, pounding into the girl. Mo put her hand between her legs, could feel herself pulse, her own need so great she wanted to cry at the force of it. “Gonna come, Brandis!” The girl yelped, ending in a moan of pleasure that matched the speed of his thrusts.

“Me, too, baby…ah….yes!” He hissed. Mo tore her eyes away, unable take another minute of it. In her clumsy haste to escape, she knocked over a towering stack of plastic bins. Brandis jumped off the couch, grabbed a towel to cover himself. “God damn it, who’s there?” He growled, his voice still rough. Mo stopped at the foot of the basement steps and stared at him. His gorgeous v-shaped torso gleamed with sweat. The deep brown of his sleek skin, the distinct outline of his abs and chest made her want to lick her lips. He frowned, still squinting in her direction. She remembered he was woefully near-sighted but hated to wear his glasses. His lush lips turned down even further when she emerged into the dim light.

Without a word, she turned suddenly and ran up the steps before she did something stupid, like cry or throw him down on the floor in front of the girl he’d just fucked and make him do the same to her. Realizing the summer still stretched out without an end, and that she’d better get the hell over her newfound sex obsession regarding Brandis Taylor, she wiped the unwelcome tears from her eyes, grabbed a cup out of some guy’s hand and downed whatever was in it. Shuddering as the harsh brown liquor seared her throat she shoved her way out to the patio and dove into the deep end of the pool hoping something would quell the nearly unbearable heat building inside her.

Stupid, childish, immature, girl. That’s what you are to him. Nothing more or less An annoyance, like a mosquito, with your pushy groping and…Jesus, did you actually say “the deflowering thing” to him? Oh, God, you really are pitiful.

She emerged at the other end, leaned her chin on her hands and watched the couples move in and out of the flickering light. She glanced at the large clock over the sliding glass door. It was nearly two a.m. She had a long shift of work at the coffee shop the next day starting at noon, plus a full day on Sunday at the garden center. She spotted him then, his deep mocha torso moving through the crowd still gathered in the kitchen. He laughed, joked and made his way to the back door. The girl from the basement was no where nearby. Mo slipped under the water and swam back to the dark end, unwilling to see or talk to him, not after that scene.

She reached for the sidewall of the pool and encountered flesh. A hand grabbed hers as she came up for air. Denise’s dark lovely face stared at hers. “Hey,” she said. “Brandis and Jack are helping me clear the place out. Can you start picking up all the empties?”

Mo wiped her face and climbed out. “Sure. No problem.” She grabbed a garbage bag and got to task. By the time she’d finished and dumped all the cans and bottles into the recycle bin, Jack, Brandis, and Denise sat on the patio, passing a joint between them. She swallowed hard and walked by the group, headed for the door.

Brandis grabbed her arm, but she jerked it back. Jack’s eyes darkened at their exchange. “Gotta work tomorrow. Nice party. Good night.”

“Yeah man, who was that with you anyway?” Jack asked as she headed inside. She looked back at him and caught Jack staring straight at her, one eyebrow raised. “She was hot. You score?” He spoke to Brandis but kept his eyes on her. She frowned at him.

Brandis sucked in a breath, glanced back at her. His eyes lost their hard look for a split second, and she saw something like regret in their dark chocolate depths. He turned away, grabbing the joint from his sister’s fingers. “What do you think? I always score, unlike some people I know.”

“Huh. So, just one girl tonight then, eh, loser?”

“You are a fucking liar, Gordon.” Brandis said, still holding in the smoke.

 “Fuck you, Taylor. I was on my A-game tonight. Two lovely ladies were the recipients of said game. That much I promise you.”

“Whatever,” Brandis glanced back and caught her eye once more. “Sure you don’t want….” he held out a hand but she had shut the door too fast to hear the rest of his question.

Chapter Four

 

The sunlight pierced the light haze of his sleep. Brandis groaned, rolled over seeking shade and found himself hand-and-kneeing it facing the brick pavers of his parents’ patio. “Christ in a sidecar what time is it?” He mumbled, flipping around so he sat, back against the chaise lounge that must have served as his bed for the night. Not that he recalled anything after the second joint. He groaned and ran a hand down his already sweaty face.

Jack walked out the back door, Mountain Dew in hand, dressed for work at his father’s construction site for the day. Brandis blinked at his friend. “How in the hell can you be so awake and non-hung over? I feel like three day old shit.”

“You look like it, too.” Jack slammed the remaining soda and threw the can into the returnable bin. “You taking those back today? We need food at the house while you’re at it.”

Brandis flipped him off. “I look like your personal shopper?”

“No,” Jack sat, laced his work boots up then leveled a deep blue stare at him. “You look like a guy lucky enough not to have to work on the Saturday after a giant pool party.” His friend leaned forward on his knees and gave Brandis an ominous look. “You also look like the guy who could possibly be messing around with my sister. I don’t recommend that at all.”

“I’m…,” Brandis started to say something, but he had nothing, so he stayed quiet. Jack stared him down, turned on his heel and left, letting the gate bang shut behind him. Brandis crawled to the edge of the pool, noted all the shit he needed to clean out of it including at least two condoms, then stuck his feet into the cold water, groaning when his temples started pounding to the beat of his heart. He put his head in his hands. Mo was the first thing he saw when he closed his eyes. Her bright blue eyes snapping with laughter, anger, and…desire …. God help him; he had nursed a crush on her for years.

She’d been such a tomboy, running with him and Jack, tagging along then joining in the baseball, basketball, soccer whatever they concocted, up to and including egg throwing at Halloween and snitching beers from the family fridge. Their easy camaraderie had always allowed them to wrestle, to tickle, to touch. After she’d shown up at his house last month, determined to escape her jerk-off father, he thought he could just ease back into it. But, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, and in that time, she had become a full-fledged, jaw-dropping woman. Her tall, athletic frame was lush, lovely, full-hipped and inviting. The deep blue of her eyes and inky black fall of her hair made him want to bury his hands in it, to kiss her until she begged for more.

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