Eternal Brand (19 page)

Emily turned and walked on jellied legs, undoing the buttons at the waistband of her black pants on the way. She kicked off her heels and stripped out of her pants, bending over so Brand would get a perfect view of her black lace G-string as he followed her into the room.

Playing with fire, Emily.
The spark of fear that ignited at the thought only added an edge to her arousal. When her trousers were gone, she placed her palms flat on the bed and propped one knee on the mattress well.

“Don't,” Brand hissed from the doorway.

Emily looked over her shoulder and saw him standing there wearing only his jeans and a thunderous scowl. “I thought this was what you wanted. A screw, no foreplay.” It was an outright challenge. He'd never wanted sex like that from her. Would he go through with this?

He stalked toward her, his belt buckle jingling as he undid it. He grasped her hips and twisted her so she was forced to turn. She fell onto the bed with a plop. He watched her breasts bounce as he unzipped his fly. “First your mouth. Then your cunt, and maybe your ass too.”

Emily's pussy clenched. She wanted all of it, even though Brand's behavior seemed designed to induce the opposite response. Was he trying to piss her off? Scare her? He was doing a little of both, yet her overwhelming reaction was arousal. And determination not to cower.

If he was trying to push her away, she had to show him she wasn't so easy to shove. She kept her gaze steady on his face. “Whatever you want.”

There was a subtle hitch in his breathing, a telltale sign that he wasn't as in control as he appeared. But the momentary weakness was gone quickly. With coldly efficient movements, Brand shucked his jeans and underwear. He held his erection in one hand and sank his other into her hair. An instant later Emily's mouth was full of him.

She grasped Brand's thighs to steady herself against the shock of having him plunder her so thoroughly, so quickly. Usually he loved the way she licked and stroked him first, drawing out the pleasure before he sank into her fully. Not this time. He pushed into her, past her tongue to the back of her throat, and set a purposeful rhythm right away.

Emily fought the reflex to gag. She relaxed her muscles as best she could, letting him in because when his free hand was on the back of her head she could do little else.
He's using you, Emily.
Brand had never been a selfish lover before, but he used her mouth as though he didn't care for her pleasure, only his own.

She looked up at him. He was watching the way his cock sank in and out of her mouth, but if he was gaining any pleasure from what he was doing to her, it wasn't revealed by his scowl. If anything he looked deeply unhappy.

It was that thought that finally made her gag reflex kick in. Emily choked and spluttered, pushing against Brand's hips. He swiftly withdrew, released her hair from his tight grip. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, a comforting gesture. Or so she thought. She glanced up, expecting to find remorse or concern on his face.

Instead there was nothing but unadulterated pain. “Tell me to stop, Emily. Tell me to go, and I'm gone.”

A shudder moved through her, a premonition that he meant what he said in a permanent way. That if she asked him to leave, he would leave forever. That all along he'd been waiting for her to reject him so he would have an excuse to disappear. “No,” she gasped. “I want you here with me—with me and Jet. I just wish…”

“What? What do you wish?”

“I wish you'd be honest with me.”

“Honest?” He scowled as he pushed her back on the bed and leaned over her. “I
honestly
want to fuck. How's that?”

There was more going on, obviously. But Emily's body didn't care so much about the more. It grew damper when Brand's erection prodded her opening. Her body wanted him, and her heart was desperate to make him understand she accepted him on every level. She held his gaze and tilted her hips. “Do it. I want you to.”

Something primal flashed in his eyes. Something dangerous. Emily didn't even have a moment to process what was going to happen before Brand was on her, his hips between her splayed thighs. He tore her panties, the fine lace coming apart easily in his fisted hand. He grabbed her thigh, held it open. Then he entered her in one plunge.

She was wet for him, despite everything. Still, his first brutal thrust pushed a shocked gasp from her lungs. Brand didn't falter before he drove into her again, imbedding himself even deeper, tunneling straight to her womb. He set a furious rhythm, taking her over and over again as she clutched his shoulders and held on.

Emily looked up into his eyes and saw…nothing. Brand was staring at her, holding her gaze, as though ensuring that she would see the emptiness there and know how completely he was closed off to her in this moment. The cadence of his thrusts generated an instinctive, explosive heat, but the cold gray steel of his eyes lodged in her chest like ice. She was losing him. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but he was retreating, and it left her feeling cast off even as he was joined with her in the most intimate way possible.

Her eyes stung, but Emily met each of his thrusts with an acquiescent tilt of her hips. Desperation tightened her chest. She put her heart in her eyes, wanting to match Brand's emptiness with the fullness of her love for him.

“I love you,” she rasped.

For a moment light bloomed in the darkness. Before Emily could dare hope, Brand evaded her, staring somewhere over her shoulder as he continued to fuck her in silence.

Emily grasped his face and dragged his gaze back to her. “Brand. I love you.”

His eyes bore into hers, and there was so much fury and pain in them Emily lost her breath. “You know this isn't working. Tell me to leave.”

Emily shook her head, her eyes growing damp. “No.” Somehow she knew Brand's rage wasn't directed at her, but at himself. But that was so much worse. A sob choked her throat, strangling her words as she tried again to reach him. “I love you.”

“Stop it.” He ceased the motion of his hips. Resting his weight on his elbows he glared down at her. “You and Jet are both the same. So fucking deluded. You think you know me, but you don't. You don't fucking know anything.”

“Then tell me,” she cried. “Please.”

“Tell you what? That my mother was a drug-addled whore and my father was a drunk who used to beat on women? Or would you rather know about the people I killed in the war? I killed people, and I did it without a second thought. I put bullets into their heads, scattered their brains in the dust. Is that what you want to hear?” He pounded the heel of his palm into the mattress beside her head. “Tell me what would satisfy you, Emily.”

She shook her head from side to side. “I love you, Brand. I love you.”

He swore violently and covered her mouth with his hand, smothering the words. His voice seethed. “Shut the fuck up.”

Emily couldn't stop the tears from flowing. They seeped from her eyes and ran down her cheeks, wetting Brand's hand. He didn't lift it from her mouth as he began to fuck her once more, pounding into her with frenetic motions, rutting with her like a mindless animal. He was intent on shutting her out, pushing her away even as he took her, branded her, punished her. Punished her, she assumed, for making the mistake of loving him.

He didn't want her love. That's what he was trying to tell her. He didn't want her to love him.

When Emily's body responded, it was a purely base reaction to the physical joining. Her muscles contracted without her emotional consent. Her body climaxed, even as her heart bled and a sob tore from her throat to be muffled by Brand's palm. He pushed inside her one last time and filled her with his essence. No, he filled her with his come, nothing more. He took from her even as he gave. He took her beliefs about their relationship and shattered them like rose-colored glass.

She'd been such an idiot. She suspected there was a measure of self-loathing in Brand, but she'd had no idea how soul-deep it ran until he looked into her eyes after his climax and it was all written there—carved there as though it could never be erased. He hated himself for doing this, hated the life full of rough experiences that that had left him emotionally shattered and unable to understand her love. She'd been a blind fool to think two years of her softness could smooth out the rock-hard pain inside him.

Brand withdrew and rolled away from her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders stooped. He made no attempt to comfort her as she cried, although he could surely hear the shuddering sniffles she couldn't quell. Emily sat up, hugging her knees to her chest to ward off the chill of isolation. Of loss.

She was losing Brand.

Eventually, Brand spoke. His voice was devoid of all emotion. “I'll take a shower and be ready in five.”

Emily didn't even care to ask why he planned to come with her to Penny's party. He was only doing it for her, and it seemed glaringly obvious now he couldn't give a stuff if she was happy or not. She was as silent as he was when he left the room. Then, with shaking fingers, she gathered her clothes together.

It wouldn't be so easy to reassemble the pieces of her broken dreams.

Chapter Twenty

Jet took the scenic route to Leyton's Headland, and had to cool his heels outside Briscoe's
for a good twenty minutes before Brand's truck pulled into the parking lot. He leaned on his bike and watched Emily alight from the passenger side of the vehicle.

He was royally ticked off that he'd been practically ejected from the house so she and Brand could do… Hell. He could guess what they'd done. It shouldn't have bothered him. Emily and Brand were a couple, weren't they? Yet the thought that he'd had to leave so they could fuck really stuck in his craw.

No, it was more than that. The truth was it hurt. He'd let himself fall in love with Emily. Then when he'd impulsively blurted his feelings she'd kicked him out the door less than five minutes later.

And now here she was, arriving with Brand as though the two of them were the couple and he was on the outer. Oh yeah, it hurt. It hurt like a bitch.

A sarcastic comment was on the tip of Jet's tongue, but as Emily drew nearer to where he stood leaning against the Harley, he detected something tense in her posture. The nastiness died on his tongue.

She carried a brightly wrapped box in her hands, and she was watching the ground as she walked, not looking at him. Had she even seen him?

Jet spoke, making her look up. “Em.”

In the illumination from a nearby streetlight, Jet identified sadness in her expression. Her smile was forced. “Hi. Thanks for waiting.”

“It's okay,” he said, although for the past ten minutes he'd been seriously considering leaving. What was he even doing here? “Let me have that.”

He reached out for Penny's present, and Emily let him take it. It was moderately heavy, and Jet wondered what the fuck was up with Brand that he wouldn't have carried it for her.

Brand's in a mood, that's what's up.
The man in question walked up behind Emily, and Jet felt the hostility coming off him in waves. “Ready to go in?”

“I've been ready for twenty minutes,” Jet pointed out. “Been waiting for you.”

Brand's top lip lifted in a sneer that let Jet know he wasn't going to apologize for being late. Or for waylaying Emily in the way he had. Tension filled the brisk night air with heat that fairly crackled.

“Let's go in. We're late.”

Emily walked off, not waiting for either of them to walk with her. Brand gave Jet an insolent look and then followed. The last thing Jet felt like doing now was going to a party with Brand, but for some reason the idea of leaving Emily to deal with Brand on her own didn't sit right with him.

They went inside more or less together. Emily was swooped on right away by an older couple Jet assumed were her parents. The woman with ash-blonde hair reached out to hug Emily. “We were getting worried about you, honey.”

“Sorry, Mum.” Emily gave no explanation for their tardiness. She stepped back to include Jet in their small circle. “Jet, these are my parents, Alicia and Walt. Mum, Dad, this is Jet Durante. He's a friend of Brand's who's been staying with us.”

Despite what Emily had said at the house about telling everyone the truth, Jet had never thought she would. They hadn't even discussed amongst themselves how a triad relationship would work in practical terms, or gotten Brand to agree to it. She could hardly blurt out the details of their sex life to her parents the second she walked in the door. It wasn't the friend explanation that stung, but the flatness with which she'd delivered the information. There was no hesitation, no apologetic glance his way or smile to soften the effects.

He was a friend of Brand's. Nothing more.

Smiling over his disappointment, Jet shook Walt's hand and kissed Alicia politely on the cheek. A second later a slender woman with straight pale-blonde hair and Emily's bone structure approached and took the brightly wrapped gift. Obviously Emily's sister, Penny.

The next few minutes were taken up with the introductions. Brand said a brief hello to a couple of people then took off to the bar. If anyone noticed his antisocial behavior, they didn't comment on it. Jet was surprised one of the people Emily introduced him to was Ty Butler, a household name in professional surfing circles.

“I've never met a world champion before,” Jet remarked as he shook the other man's hand.

“I've never met anyone who gets up close and personal with tigers for a living either. I guess we're even.”

Ty's jovial grin was contagious, and Jet felt himself returning it. When Ty introduced Jet to his girlfriend Summer Campbell, Jet kept his smile broad for the petite beauty with dark eyes and shiny black hair.

“So you travel around the world with him?” Jet asked.

“I have been.” Summer shared a look with Ty that held some secret meaning. “I think the next tournament might have to be my last though.”

“Is that true?” Penny Irving asked. “Are you moving back to work at Summer's Retreat again?”

Summer nodded. Then smiled ruefully. “I don't want to travel too far away from my doctor in the second trimester.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Penny let out an excited squeal. “Oh my God, you're pregnant? That's terrific. And you're coming back to the business.” Penny enveloped Summer in a warm hug. “Thank you, boss!”

Summer laughed and hugged Penny back. Emily offered her own congratulations to Ty, who beamed with obvious pride. As soon as Penny released Summer, Ty gathered her close to his side, as though he'd loathed the moments when he wasn't touching her.

The few inches between Jet and Emily felt like a chasm. Needing to breach the distance, Jet reached over and put his hand on Emily's back. “Can I get you a drink?” he asked, just to have an excuse to say something to her.

She turned to look at him, and with a close-up view, he saw what he hadn't seen outside. The subtle tinge of red that imbued the whites of her eyes with color and the absolute devastation in her green irises.

“My God, Em,” Jet husked. “What the hell did he do to you?”

Emily blanched and turned away so he couldn't scrutinize her face anymore. She tried to leave his side but Jet pressed his hand into her hip, keeping her where she was. “Talk to me. What's going on?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

She said it with a note of irony that made Jet want to follow up. Before he could, a woman with short blonde hair approached her. “Sis, glad you could finally make it.”

“I was only half an hour late,” Emily responded tautly to her sister's sarcasm.

“Thirty-five minutes to be precise. It was your job to take delivery of the cake, but I had to do it. So…there might be a minor crisis with it because I didn't check in the box before the guy left.”

“What crisis?”

“Em.” Jet flexed his hand on her hip to get her attention, fearing she was going to use the interruption to evade his questions.

“I'm sorry, where are my manners? Jet, this is my sister, Hope. Hope, Jet is a friend of Brand's.”

Jet was forced to go through the motions of acknowledging Emily's sister. He put on his best smile for Emily's sake. “Nice to meet you.”

She gave him a crooked smile and a very thorough once-over. “Likewise. A friend of Brand's you say?”

“That's right. We go way back.”

Already Jet could tell pretending he and Brand had never been lovers was going to be as difficult as resisting the urge to put his arm around Emily's shoulders and squire her around the party like she was his girlfriend. He shouldn't have come tonight, but it was too late to change it now.

“About that crisis, Hope?”

Emily gave her sister a not-so-subtle nudge so she was forced to stop eye-fucking Jet. Hope wrinkled her nose at her sister in annoyance. “The cake says
Happy Birthday Phoebe
.”

“Oh, crap.” Emily sent Jet the briefest glance. Her eyes didn't quite meet his. “I have to deal with this. Will you be okay?”

“Sure.” Jet saw no way to keep her with him without it appearing odd.

“I'll be back.”

An instant later she was gone. Jet had a feeling she'd do everything she could to avoid him all night.

“You look like a Heineken man.”

Jet turned toward the voice and saw a good-looking guy in a suit proffering a bottle of the Dutch beer. Jet accepted the bottle and took a long pull. “Thanks.” He put out his hand. “Jet Durante.”

“Aaron Sanderson.” The two men shook. “If you want me to keep 'em coming, I'll arrange it. I'm sleeping with the manager.”

A woman walking by with a tray of drinks said, “I heard that.”

Aaron grinned. “You were meant to.”

The woman bumped Aaron's hip with hers and sent him a wink. “Cheeky.” She turned to acknowledge Jet. “I'm Jasmine. I'm running the show here tonight, so if you see anything that needs doing you let me know.”

“Will do.”

Jasmine moved on, and Jet fell into conversation with Aaron, who was a local realtor and Ty Butler's best friend. The guy had great eyes and a confident aura Jet appreciated. In another time, another place, and if Aaron wasn't so obviously straight and wrapped up in the bar manager, Jet might have flirted with him. Now his gaze kept wandering through the crowd, hoping to land on Emily. Or straying to the bar to watch with wary eyes as Brand stood alone staring into a glass of neat scotch.

Scotch. The last time Jet had seen Brand touch hard liquor was in Sydney. He'd had the same dark cloud over his head then that he seemed to have now.

Jet had a bad feeling this night was not going to end well.

“So what's the story with Jet?”

Emily tensed at Penny's question. She'd been running around all night overseeing the service of the finger food and drinks, arranging to have the stuff-up with the cake fixed and mingling with as many people as possible. The flurry of activity required to make sure the party ran smoothly was a welcome distraction from her concern that Brand was spending more time glaring into a glass of scotch than socializing. It also helped her avoid questions about Jet.

“I think it's about time the cake came out, don't you?”

Emily shot out of her chair but a hand on her shoulder swiftly pushed her back into it. “Not so fast.” It was Hope. “I'd like to hear Jet's story too. And you've been avoiding telling it all night.”

“I have not,” Emily lied. “I told you he's a wildlife photographer who came here to take some pictures of the landscape. He looked Brand up, and I suggested he stay with us instead of paying for a hotel.”

All of which was true. But her sisters weren't satisfied.

Penny asked, “Is he single?”

Emily avoided answering directly. “What do you care? I thought it was back on with Bryan.”

“It's not.” Penny sobered. “It's definitely off. Well and truly.”

“Oh, honey, I'm sorry.” Emily rested her hand on Penny's. “I know you liked him.”

“Liked past tense. Turns out Bryan wasn't anything like I first thought.” Penny waved a hand. “But it's my birthday, damn it. I don't want to talk about my depressing love life.”

“We could talk about mine,” Hope offered dryly.

“What? I figured you must be back together with Dylan,” Penny said. “He owns this place, right?”

“He let me have it because he feels guilty. The truth is, we're not seeing each other anymore, and I think this time it's going to stick. Do you know he actually gave me the let's-be-friends speech?”

“Oh, no,” Penny said. “I
hate
that one.”

“I know, right?” Hope put her half-empty vodka and lime on ice down on the table. “After all the hot and heavy, he pulls the friends shit on me? No way. We're
not
going to be friends. That didn't stop me using his venue for your party, P. I'm not stupid.”

“And thank you for it.” Penny raised her pina colada. “Thanks to both of you for organizing this. It was just what I needed.”

Emily added her white wine to the mix, and the three women touched glasses. “Happy twenty-fifth birthday, Penny.”

They each took a drink. Emily was just congratulating herself on managing to steer the conversation away from her when Hope said, “If I'm going to get over Dylan, I need to get laid. By Jet Durante, preferably.”

Emily's stomach plummeted. It sank even further when Penny protested. “Hey, I saw him first.”

“Perhaps we could agree on shared custody?” Hope suggested.

Penny screwed up her nose. “Gawd, Hope. That's gross.”

“Just trying to help you out. I'm not rolling over and giving him to you.”

“Who says you have a shot? I saw you try to talk to him. He didn't look interested.”

“He wouldn't be,” Emily blurted. “He's gay.”

Emily couldn't think of a better way to divert her sister than using the excuse Jet himself had suggested earlier today. But Hope merely laughed. “No he's not.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know. He's giving off too many hetero vibes.”

“Oh hetero vibes.” Emily arched a brow and took a sip of wine. “You have the scientific research to back up the existence of hetero vibes, do you?”

“I have anecdotal evidence. I've seen him checking out at least one woman here in a way that did not suggest he was wondering if her heels were genuine Jimmy Choos.”

Emily's heart slammed into her throat. Jet had been checking some woman out? “Who was it?” she demanded, more stridently than she meant to.

Hope turned to look at her, her blue-green eyes watchful. “You.”

Emily swallowed, but her heart did not dislodge from its new place in her esophagus. “I'm sure you were mistaken.”

“I wasn't,” Hope said in her familiar, stubborn way. “The man likes women. Or at least he likes you.”

“Hope.” Emily sent her a warning look. “He's Brand's friend.”