Unexpected Fight Read online

  “I need to see you,” he says.

  “No, just this. Just us here in the dark. Just feel, Ty. I want to feel you.”

  “This time,” he says, leaning in for another kiss. I don’t know how he’s navigating so well in the dark, but I’m grateful for it. I want to see him too, but keeping the lights off, well, that will make this less real. Almost as if I’ve imagined it. I don’t know what happens after this, but I know that the memory alone will haunt me. Add in seeing all of him, and I don’t think I could survive it. I’ve longed for him, for this, for far too long. It’s best to keep things as simple as possible. It’s more than just the two of us that this will affect.

  Reaching behind me, I unsnap my bra and toss it as well. Leaning back on the bed, I pull my shorts and panties down and kick them off. “I won,” I say into the dark.

  “What did you win?” he asks.

  “Come here, and I’ll show you.” His large frame steps between my legs. The fabric of his shorts, rubbing against my bare thighs. Yeah, I definitely won. Reaching out, I grab in the darkness until I have his hand in mine. Pressing my lips to his palm, I then guide him to cup my bare breasts.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs, pinching and tweaking my already tight nipple.

  With my hands gripping the backs of his legs, I let him explore my breasts. When he leans in closer, I know what he’s about to do, and if he puts his mouth on me now, I’ll never get to finish my victory lap. Now that I think about it, it’s just as much a victory for him as it is for me. Reaching for one of his hands, the other continues to play with my breast as I flatten his palm between my breasts and slide his hand south. We reach my belly, and he takes matters into his own hands traveling down.

  We both suck in a breath when he guides his index finger through my wetness. “Is this for me?” he whispers roughly.

  “Depends?” I taunt him. I’m surprised I can form a coherent thought with his hands all over me. My senses are on full alert.

  “On what?” he says, his voice gruff.

  “Do you want it? Want me?” I meant to come off as seductive, but even I can hear the worry in my voice. What if he changes his mind?

  “Fuck yes, I do.” To prove it, he slides a single digit inside me. His lips find mine once again, but this time, it’s not a kiss that’s causing my mind to spin; it’s his words. “I want all of you. All the time. All mine,” he says while slowly stroking his finger inside me.

  “T-Too many clothes.” I need to feel him too. Gripping the waistband of his gym shorts, I tug until they fall to his feet. My hands roam, and I’m pleasantly surprised to find he’s wearing boxer briefs. My hands cup him through the thin spandex-like material, and he hisses a sharp breath. I make quick work of gripping the sides and tugging them down, and I’m rewarded with his hard cock brushing across my cheek. My face heats with embarrassment and I’m glad I insisted we do this in the dark.

  Encouraged by the fact he can’t see how he affects me, I grip his length, stroking slowing.

  “Jesus, Reagan,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers free only to return with two, causing me to moan and tighten the grip I have on him.

  I want him to feel what I feel.

  Wanted.

  Cherished.

  Burning with desire.

  Feeling brazen, I bring him to my mouth and trace his length from root to tip with my tongue. He wobbles, bracing himself with one hand on my shoulders. Exhilarated, I take him into my mouth, only to have him step back and fall from my lips.

  “No,” he says, his voice strained. “I-I can’t let you do that. Not right now. Fuck, Reags, I’m ready to come.”

  “Isn’t that the point?”

  “No. Not until you do, and I want to be inside you when it happens. Slide back, baby.”

  Who am I to argue with that logic? I scramble to slide back on the bed just as he asked. As I rest my head on the pillow that smells like him, I hear the nightstand drawer open, and the sound of a box being ripped open. I don’t know why, but the knowledge that the box is unopened makes me feel better. The bed dips, and his large calloused hand touches my knee. “Open for me.”

  My body is a slave for him. As my legs fall open, he settles between my thighs. His hard length rests just above where my body is wet and swollen for him. His lips find mine, his tongue leisurely tasting my lips. “Tyler,” I whisper his name. My senses are on overload. I’m surrounded by his woodsy scent, the feel of his hard, naked body hovering over me, and the way his kisses, even with the scratch of his beard, have my head spinning with desire.

  His hand works its way back to my pussy, and his fingers dip inside once again. “You’re ready,” he says, and his voice doesn’t sound like him. It’s rough and gritty. Raw. Before I know what’s happening, his hand is gone, and I hear the sound of the condom wrapper as he tears it open. With one hand braced on the bed beside my head, the other guides his hard length through my pussy.

  Touching.

  Teasing.

  It’s delicious torture.

  He gives me no warning as he aligns himself at my entrance and pushes forward. My nails dig into his back as a fullness like I’ve never felt takes hold over me. “You okay?” he asks as he stills with his body deeply connected to mine.

  “Yeah,” I whisper.

  He lowers his elbows to the mattress on either side of my head and lightly kisses my nose, my forehead, and finally my lips. “You feel better than I could have imagined,” he whispers hoarsely in my ear.

  His lips find their way to my neck as he begins to thrust. Slow and steady, igniting a fire inside me. My soul is ablaze as it cries out for him. I’ve wanted this for so long, this intimate connection with him. I’ve craved it. I’ve built the moment up in my head, was fearful that if I ever had the opportunity to be here, in this moment with him, it would fall short. I should have known better.

  “Just feel, baby,” he whispers from where his face is still buried in my neck, kissing, licking, sucking, and effectively driving me crazy with want. With need for him.

  “I—” I have to bite down on my bottom lip as he swivels his hips. My nails dig deeper into his skin as my body pulses around him. Damn. “I feel everything,” I manage to say.

  “Good.” He kisses my lips quickly, before lifting himself off me. His hands grip my hips as he pulls me into him. He’s on his knees, thrusting as my hands grapple for the sheets for something to hold onto while I settle in for the ride.

  “Ty—” I can’t seem to form complete words.

  “I feel you,” he says, not even out of breath even though he’s doing all the work.

  I’m just lying here, holding on for my life, if my grip on the sheets is any indication. He wants me to feel, and that’s all I can do. With each pump of his hips, he sends shockwaves throughout my body.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, lifting my hips and meeting his thrusts. I need more. “I-I’m close,” I say, my head moving from side to side. The ache is there, building. Higher and higher. Tyler does that swivel thing with his hips and hits that spot. The one that seems to be a detonator for my orgasm. I cry out his name as I spiral out of control. It’s by far the most intense orgasm of my life. I see spots behind my eyes. My entire body is on fire. An intense yet satisfying burn in my core, flooding through my body.

  “Fuck,” he murmurs as he stills.

  Forcing my eyes open, I watch in the glow of the moonlight as he shudders, his release racing through him. A few lazy pumps and he’s leaning down to kiss my lips. My hands stroke his back that is covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He pulls out and lies down beside me, tugging me into his chest. I immediately feel the loss of being connected to him.

  His lips press against the top of my head. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” How could I not be? He just tilted my world on its axis.

  “Why were you apologizing?”

  “What?”

  “You said, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh.” My face heats, and I’m once again thankful for the
dark room. “I was just kind of lying there,” I explain, and I know my face is blood red. I can’t lie to him, though.

  “What are you talking about?” He pulls away from my body, discarding the condom and tossing it in the trash. I already miss the warmth and the connection of having him inside me.

  “All I could do was hold on.”

  “Baby,” he says softly. “That’s nothing to be sorry for. I liked that I was doing that for you.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “We shower. Then we cuddle like this until we fall asleep. In the morning, I’ll make you breakfast, and we can decide what to do with the rest of our day.”

  “About us, Ty.”

  “Tell me what you want, Reagan.”

  “This. Us. It complicates things.”

  “Explain.”

  “My brother. Our friends. Our families.”

  “Will still be your brother, will remain our friends, and will love us no matter what.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I didn’t ask you about them. I asked you what you wanted.”

  I don’t think before I blurt the truth. “You, Ty. I want you.”

  “Thank fuck.” He squeezes me a little tighter. “The rest will work itself out,” he assures me.

  “Tyler.” I roll over to face him. I can’t see his face, but I need to know he’s hearing me on this. “There’s too much at stake to just leave this to chance.”

  “Chance is what we have, Reagan. Chance led me to this moment with you. For you, I’d risk it all.”

  “We need to take some time,” I tell him, my mind racing with how to handle this. “We could still be coming off the thrill of our orgasms. We need time to think about it, to process and see where we are after.”

  “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?”

  “I don’t need time. I don’t need to process anything. What I need is you. In my arms, in my bed, in every facet of my life.”

  “I don’t want to lose you or cause a rift.” I don’t know why I’m saying the words that are escaping my lips. Hearing him saying those things, after wanting exactly that for so long is like a dream come true. Yet, I’m in disbelief that it’s really happening.

  “Let’s just do us, Reags. Me and you. The rest will fall into place.”

  After taking in a deep breath, I slowly exhale. “Okay,” I whisper.

  “Good. Now, let’s shower and then more of this,” he says, kissing my bare shoulder. He climbs out of bed and turns on the small bedside lamp. “Jesus,” he murmurs.

  I blink my eyes against the sudden light and immediately cover myself.

  “No.” His voice is stern. “Never. Do not ever hide from me. I want all of you, Reagan.” He offers me his hand and helps me stand from the bed. His eyes roam over every inch of me, not leaving a single inch of my body untouched by his wandering eyes. “Lights on from now on.” He steps into me, wrapping me in his arms. His hard length is pressed against my belly, while his hands rest just above my ass. “Never again do I go without laying eyes on you.” He leans in and buries his face in my neck. Naked. Skin to skin, he holds me. This moment feels even more intimate than when he was inside me. “Let’s shower.” He pulls away only far enough to stand beside me and guide us to the shower.

  Chapter 8

  Tyler

  * * *

  I barely slept last night. How could I? I held a naked Reagan in my arms, running my hands over her silky-smooth skin while she slept peacefully. How could I close my eyes and miss something I’ve dreamed about far longer than I can really admit? Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I see it’s just after seven. The sun is starting to peek through the blinds as my girl stirs in my arms.

  “Morning, beautiful.”

  “Hey.” Her sleep-laced voice greets me. “What time is it?”

  “Just after seven.”

  “I need to get going.”

  “That wasn’t the plan,” I tell her. If I had my way, we’d stay in this bed all damn weekend.

  “I know that’s not what you envisioned for us, but I have clients today.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She shrugs. “Caught up in the moment, I guess.”

  “Fine,” I grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll see you after?”

  “Yes.” She lifts her head, and I meet her halfway, pressing my lips to hers.

  “Where?”

  “I’ll come here.”

  “When?” I’m not letting her out of this bed until we nail this down.

  “So insistent,” she teases.

  “Damn right, I am. I’m already counting down the hours until I see you again, and you’re still here.”

  “Six? That gives me time to shower and do a few things around my place before coming over.”

  “Pack a bag.” She raises her eyebrows. “Or don’t. Naked is good too.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” She moves to climb out of bed, and I watch her as she quickly gathers her clothes and disappears into the bathroom. I jump out of bed, pull on some shorts and a T-shirt, and head to the kitchen to make her some coffee. In the cabinet, I find a Beckett Construction travel mug and can’t help but laugh at the irony.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “This.” I hold up the cup before sticking it under the machine and hitting brew.

  “Why is that funny?” she asks.

  “Because I’m making this for you.”

  She grins. “At least no one will know that it’s yours.”

  Wait. What? “Is that not something you want? People to know that it’s mine?”

  “No. Yes. I mean, I’m not sure. We’ve not really talked about what this is.” She motions between the two of us.

  “Really? Because I thought what this is”—I make the same motion—“was pretty clear.”

  She looks at her phone. “Can we talk about this later? I really need to get going.”

  Turning to the machine, I wait a few more seconds for it to finish brewing before adding sugar and cream. Done, I twist the lid and hand it to her.

  “You know how I take my coffee?”

  “Of course I do.” Leaning in, I place a soft kiss on her lips. “Have a good day, baby.”

  “Bye, Ty,” she says, unable to hide her grin. I love knowing that her smile is because of me.

  I walk her to the front door and out to her car. After another quick kiss to her lips, she’s driving away from me. I can’t help but wonder if she’s running scared. Regardless, I’m not going to let her. I know what we shared last night. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m not giving up. Not without a fight.

  Once I make my way back into the house, I grab a protein bar from the cabinet and set off to wash the sheets. I hate losing the smell of her, but if I have my way, there will be many more nights like last night. Two hours later, the laundry is done, the house is straightened up, and I’ve checked the time on my watch what feels like a thousand times. Grabbing my phone from where it’s charging on the counter, I send a text to Reagan.

  * * *

  Me: How’s your day going?

  * * *

  I wait, staring at the device as if it holds my only connection to her. She said she had clients, so I don’t expect an immediate reply, but it doesn’t stop me from waiting for one anyway. About ten minutes later, my phone pings.

  * * *

  Reagan: Busy. We’ve had a lot of walk-ins. Good for business though.

  * * *

  Me: Can I do anything?

  * * *

  Reagan: Look at you being all sweet. No, I think we’re good.

  * * *

  Me: Let me know if something comes up. Can’t wait to see you.

  * * *

  Reagan: Thanks.

  * * *

  Not exactly the reply I was hoping for, but I know she’s busy. Looking at the clock, it’s just before eleven o’clock. An idea pops in my head, and I run with it. Rushing to my room, I change c
lothes, this time putting on some underwear and a pair of cargo shorts. I grab some socks from my drawer and sit on the edge of the bed to put them on. My tennis shoes are by the door. Making sure I have my wallet and keys, I slide my feet into my shoes, lock up, and head out on my mission.

  Forty-five minutes later, I’m parking my truck in front of her shop. With the two large pizzas and two-liter pop in my hands, I stroll through the front doors. The chime alerts that someone is here, and suddenly all eyes are on me. That’s okay, but the only eyes I care about are the hazel-colored ones that are looking at me in disbelief.

  “You said you were busy, so I figured I’d bring lunch,” I say, holding up the pizza boxes.

  “I knew I liked you,” Carol says with a smile.

  “Take it on back to the breakroom,” Brenda tells me.

  One step, then two, I don’t stop moving until I’m standing behind her. “Hey, baby,” I whisper in her ear. I watch as goose bumps break out over her skin. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail, exposing her slender neck, and I want nothing more than to trace it with my tongue. Not giving her a chance to reply, I head on back to the breakroom and set the pizza and the pop on the small table.

  I barely take a step out of the room before a conversation catches my attention. I stand still and listen. It’s wrong; I know that, but I’m trying to win the girl, so desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “Oh, honey, he is a hunk.”

  “Mrs. Nichols,” Reagan scolds her. “You’re happily married,” she teases.

  “I’m married, not dead. That boy is a handsome devil. He’s yours, right? He’s the one Martha was telling us about last night at the spaghetti dinner.”

  My feet are already moving toward her, having heard enough. It’s time to put it out there.

  “Not yet, ma’am,” I say, appearing beside Reagan. “I’m working on it.”

  “Oh, you handsome devil,” she coos. “Reagan, you need to stop torturing the poor boy.”