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I dress up for dinner just to get under Johnny’s skin. A denim skirt that shows off more thigh than necessary, and a yellow off the shoulder top. It’s not my style to dress up to impress a guy, but Kelly is hot as sin. I fully intended to flirt with him over dinner tonight. His friends too. Anything to piss Johnny off.
I’m not sure what made me more mad, finding out he warned his friends to stay away from me, or him hiding my existence like some dirty little secret. Screw him.
I give my hair a quick blast with the dryer, put on a slick of lip gloss, toss my phone and wallet into a smaller bag alongside Johnny’s keys, and I’m ready to go. I slip out of the guest room and into the lounge, where Kelly is dressed and sitting in my seat from earlier.
“You’re in my spot,” I tell him with a wink.
“Actually, you were in my spot, but I didn’t say anything.” He smiles at me, and it lights up his entire face. He really is sexy.
“Snooze, ya lose,” I tell him with a laugh.
“On top of stealing my tea, my favorite mug, and my shower gel,” he points out, pretending to sulk, but I simply shrug. I’m not bothered by his accusations. Johnny said to make myself at home, so I did. It’s not my fault the giant ass-bandit failed to tell me he shared his home with other guys, who might not be so happy to have me getting comfortable in their space.
Damn, Kelly looks good enough to eat. He’s redone his long brown hair into a slightly tidier topknot, and his beard looks freshly trimmed. He’s wearing torn faded Levi’s and a short-sleeved gray tee that’s molded to his chest like a second skin. His arms are seriously pumped, and I take a moment to admire the ink on them. His entire left arm is covered in a colorful sleeve that looks phenomenal. Just above his wrist, there’s a bright red rose which keeps catching my eye. It’s similar to the rose I have on my thigh. I want to tell him this, but for some reason I don’t say anything because it seems a little too…intimate, maybe?
“Is the restaurant far?” I ask instead.
“Nah, it’s not far to walk, but there’s going to be a storm later, so we’ll take my truck if that’s okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Shall we head out?”
“Sure,” he tells me, getting to his feet and ambling toward the door. He slips on retro Adidas Campus trainers — the navy suede ones that I adored as a kid — and grabs his keys off the console table by the door. I watch him lead the way and lick my lips at the delicious way the Levi’s hug his ass. I want to bite it…or, at the very least, squeeze it. And not just to piss my brother off this time. Kelly’s really that hot. Ten out of ten, would kiss, given the chance.
It doesn’t take long to get to the restaurant, as he said, and we travel mostly in silence, listening to the local rock station on the radio. I’m enjoying the tunes, and it seems like Kelly has a pretty similar taste in music to me.
We both like classic rock, can’t stand screaming heavy metal or emo crap. He seems to be laying off the getting to know you questions, obviously anticipating that they’ll be asked over dinner with the others around. I appreciate his thoughtfulness. That means I won’t have to keep repeating myself. Or maybe he just isn’t interested in talking to me? Although, he seemed interested? I seriously need to stop overthinking everything.
As we walk into the restaurant — a place called Hurricane Grill, which smells delicious — I turn to Kelly and ask, “Did you text Johnny where we’re eating? He told me to, but I forgot once I handed the planning over to you.”
“Don’t sweat it, beautiful. I got you covered,” he says with a reassuring grin.
I smile because he thinks I’d be worried. Honestly? Johnny not joining us for dinner right now would be awesome. Then I smile even wider when he laces his fingers through mine. Maybe he has the same idea as I do about pissing off my brother. His grip is firm, and I can't help but notice how much larger his hand is compared to my own. His skin is soft and warm, and instantly makes me more comfortable.
Holding hands, I let him lead me through the crowded restaurant to our table. I pout when he releases my hand to allow me to slide into the booth seat. But when he slips in next to me, close enough that our thighs touch, I bite my lip. He seems to want to touch me in some way, at all times. Maybe the distance in the car was all in my head, and he really was being considerate.
A waitress comes to take our order and we both ask for a Corona with lime, making me smile. He rests his large palm on my thigh, and we sip our cold beers in companionable silence until the others arrive. The way he’s holding my leg is gentle, but also gives me this impression that he wants more. It’s sending dirty thoughts racing through my mind. I have to actively stop myself from reaching over and caressing his thigh. It’s so large, and having it pressed against me makes me want to…
Fortunately, we don’t have to wait long for a distraction from the building sexual tension.
I hear Johnny before I see him, and when I turn, he’s striding through the restaurant like he owns the place. It makes me cringe. Who does the cum-bubble think he is? There’s also two guys — and I mean jaw-dropping smoking hot guys — following him. How the hell did my lame-ass brother not only do so well for himself, but also manage to befriend such eye candy? I’m starting to think I live on the wrong coast. My weedy brother looks puny and pathetic next to the two guys beside him. They could be his bodyguards, and the thought makes me chuckle. It would be just like Johnny to befriend the biggest kids on the playground to stave off the bullies and to make himself look bigger. Some things never change.
The first guy that’s walking behind my brother is tall, maybe around six two? He has an athletic build, but his rolled-up shirt sleeves show off toned, muscular arms covered in monochrome ink. His skin is tanned, his dirty blond hair swept back from his face and just long enough for me to run my fingers through. Gorgeous bright blue eyes sparkle, and he beams at me with a wide, straight, white smile as he approaches. He looks laid back, friendly, and fun. The carefree vibe he gives makes me want to curl up with him on a couch while we binge-eat popcorn and drink all night, talking about our futures.
“Mica, this is my sister Belle. Belle, this is Mica,” Johnny says, introducing him to me. Mica takes my hand and kisses the back of it before sliding in on the other side of the booth and scooting in beside me. He’s so close, our thighs also touch. Suddenly I’m feeling like the filling of a hot guy pie.
“It’s nice to meet you, Belle.” Mica gives me a smile that almost feels like a dirty secret. I don’t miss the scowl Johnny throws at him, or the annoying way he clears his throat. Mica blatantly ignores my brother as he holds my eye contact and beams at me. His eyes really twinkle with mischief, and I like it.
Behind Johnny must be Linc. I can tell from the way he carries himself that he was most likely in the military at some point. It’s a signature posture that’s ingrained and never leaves. The alert way he watches the room, scanning it. He’s also taller than Kelly and Mica. He has to be at least six six. He towers over Johnny — who’s the smallest of the group at five seven — and even though I’m sitting, he makes me feel tiny.
I am instantly aroused and crossing my legs because he looks like he could throw me around like a rag-doll. Linc is built. He’s solid muscle with intense, brooding, black eyes. Wearing a sleeveless tank, I can see his tattoos span his shoulders, chest, and neck. There’s even a small tattoo on each cheekbone, just below his eye. I don’t normally go for facial ink, but his looks scarily hot. Everything I can see is inked in black, each design an individual statement piece — like mine — rather than anything that blends cohesively together. His ink is the opposite of Mica’s harmonious designs and Kelly’s riot of color. He has a closely clipped beard and short dark hair, and a scowl that says he’d rather be anywhere other than here right now. He has naughty bad boy written all over him, and I feel like letting him ruin my life might even be worth it for all the amazing, aggressive sex he seems to be promising. He’s trouble in the form of delicious, irresistible desire.
I swallow harshly. These men might be my undoing if I’m not careful.
“Linc, Belle...Belle, Linc,” Johnny mumbles, gesturing vaguely between us, clearly over the introductions already, and I resist sticking my tongue out at him. This is his doing, after all. He’s got no right to be sassy with me.
I give Linc a little wave. He doesn’t say hello back, but his gaze sears every inch of my skin, as he assesses me with a dangerous eye. Or maybe that’s just my soaked panties talking.
After Johnny and Linc join us at the table, everyone takes a moment to look over their menu. I’m lost in thoughts of being bent over this table and fucked senseless by Linc. Or fucked passionately by Mica, as Kelly teases me until I’m crazy. Two waitresses appear so quickly to take our order that I think my brother must have conjured them by magic. They’re literally tripping over themselves to serve him. I watch, bemused, as they bat their eyelashes and bend over unnecessarily low to flash their cleavage as they hand out waters and straws.
