Chapter 5

Matt

I slept like shit the night before, but it was a common theme when I knew the next day might include running into Erica Hall. She was the epitome of sex incarnate in a power suit. From her shoulder-length blond hair that framed her regal features perfectly to the thick swell of her tight ass in her business skirt.

She left me aching all over and wanting to give up my fast from sex. She was the only woman that left me feeling that way, which was all the more of a reason to tuck tail and run. I was just like every other alpha asshole in the bedroom, and therefore avoided it. I couldn't find a woman who understood that my appetite in the sheets had little to do with my devotion and adoration outside of them.

Being someone who craved love like I did, it was just easier to play it safe and keep my relationships more familial and friendly. Anything more than that, and I'd have to explain myself. My passions bled out in my art, but there was so much more trapped inside of me, begging for the opportunity to bleed out across the soft tight body of my father's lead advertising executive. It wasn't something I was willing to let my guard down about, which meant staying away.

The phone buzzed in my lap as I sat on the private jet alone. Jonathan Luntz's name popped up and I breathed a sigh of relief. I could handle just about anyone but Erica. Why she unraveled me so fast was something I needed to figure out and conquer. It wasn't like she was going anywhere anytime soon.

"This is Matt."

"Matthew. It's Jonathan. I take it you're headed into the city this afternoon?"

"I sure am. I'm sitting on a plane now, waiting to take off. What time did you want to get together?" I glanced up as the flight attendant closed the door and nodded toward me.

"Let's have dinner at six at Landralla. It's in the heart of the art district. Very eclectic place. My wife loves it."

Surprise rolled over me. I'd assumed he was gay, which was asinine of me.

"Is your wife coming with you tonight?"

"Yes, so make sure you bring a date, if you're able to. She'll feel out of sorts being the only one not blabbering on and on about art."

"What does she do for a living?"

"She's a real estate agent." I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Great. I'll be there at six and will bring a friend with me. I know just the girl."

"Excellent. Well, safe travels and I can't wait to share with you some great news."

My turn to smile. "Perfect. See you then."

I leaned back in my seat after dropping the phone in the empty seat beside me. Erica was probably busy for the evening, at least she should be. A woman as beautiful as her probably had a million things to do, including a man.

"We're about to prepare for take-off. Feel free to use your cell phone once we're up in the air, Mr. Bryant." The flight attendant smiled and worked to buckle himself up.

"Great. Thanks." I let out a soft sigh and closed my eyes as Erica's pretty face made a guest appearance in my mind. How long was I going to have to keep up pretenses with her? With everyone?

My jokes and silly references to her as a scary bitch were just that. She was honestly everything I could imagine desiring wrapped into one package, and that alone made her dangerous.

My father had been head over heels for my mother, completely taken with her. So much so that he was either ignorant or blind to all the shit she had pulled over the years. The one thing I didn't want to do was end up like him. Completely in love with a woman who was spending her afternoons in the arms of the man she really loved, which wasn't me.

The phone buzzed and I half expected it to be Jonathan again with some small detail he forgot to include. I was pleased to see it was Bethany instead. I waited until we were in the air to call her back.

"This is Bethany."

"Hey Sis." I forced some energy into my voice.

"Hey you. I just wanted to wish you a safe trip. I wish I could go with you. We're headed down to Florida again this weekend, and you know I work for a slave driver." She sounded better than she had in a while, but the sadness still lingered in her voice.

I forced a chuckle. "I understand. I'm excited about meeting up with Jonathan tonight, but he's asking me to bring a date. I didn't want to tell the poor guy that finding a date in three hours in a city I'm not familiar with would be almost as hard as trying to walk up Mount Kilimanjaro, backwards, barefoot, naked."

"Oh Lord." She laughed softly. "Just ask Erica. You guys will have fun, and you know how much she loves art. Give her a chance Matt."

"Easy for you to say. It's not your delicate flesh on the line." I shivered and responded verbally to let her know I'd done it.

"You're so ridiculous, and the funny part is that you know it."

"Yep. You guys just see what you want to see, but your vantage point is a little different than mine. I'm on the ground floor with the troops. I'm in the trenches and you guys are-"

"Watching from lofty towers?"

I smirked. "Exactly."

"Just ask her, you silly thing. You guys could be friends if nothing else. You were meeting up with her today anyway, right?"

"I need to for sure. I don't know about tonight, but I'll think about it. You doing okay?"

"I'm hanging in there."

"Right. It sounds like it. I'll talk to Damon for you this weekend and see what's going on."

"No! I don't want any help."

I pulled the phone from my ear like she'd slapped me. "Okay."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I just want this thing between us to work out the way it should or be over. That's all."

"And what's the way it should work out?" I couldn't help but ask, though I already knew what Bethany was hoping for, but it was a fantasy. My brother had been the way he was since coming out of the womb.

"It should be Damon that puts forth some effort in trying to adjust his go-to response every time something goes wrong between us."

"Sex and touch are his love language. There is nothing to adjust. He's a dick, and he could work on that for sure, but would you really like him if he were a different man? That guy you fell in love with is still the same guy that's hurting just like you are."

"He's hurting?" Her voice softened.

"Duh. I swear for a brilliant girl, you sure are being dense about this."

"Thanks, butt-hole."

"Anytime. You know I care about both of you."

"I do. Let's not talk about my shit anymore though. You need to get emotionally and mentally prepared to meet the woman of your dreams this weekend."

"Oh yeah? You think I'm going to run into her while I'm in Seattle? Did you have a vision or something you want to share?" I was being cheeky, but I loved goading Bethany more than anyone else.

"Really? You know Erica is perfect for you, Matt."

"I know. I've heard it a million times. No is my answer. I don't want a woman like her. Honestly. She's beautiful and leaves my insides shaking with white-hot need, but she's not the kind of woman I want to emotionally tie myself to."

"Why is that? It makes no sense to me."

"Because, my nosy new sister, she's just like Damon. Strong, confident, a bitch and a half, and I love it. I would become her lap dog in public and put a collar on her in the bedroom. She would bring out the worst parts of me. Kinda like Damon's doing to you."

"You think he's brought out the worst of me?" Sadness swept through her tone and I realized the error of my statement.

"No and yes. You're miserable and yet you're waiting on him to come grovel at your feet. Where I think it is quite possible that he would, you're going about this all wrong. My brother works best under the guise of jealousy."

"Oh, hell no. I'm not working to make him jealous. That's dangerous for everyone involved."

"True, but it works. Just something to think about. If we're looking for effective here, then you gotta make a move. He doesn't feel like he's done anything wrong."

"He told you that?" Her voice gained back some strength. I'd hit a nerve.

"No. I'm just telling you his normal MO. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong, but he is my brother. Start working on a plan to get him back or walk away."

"You're right. When you get back, let's devise a plan."

"Not willing to give up?"

"On Damon? Never. I love him with this fiery passion that leaves me breathless just thinking about him. Hell, no. I'll never give up."

"Then stop sitting on the sidelines and go get him. You're leaving the door open for any other woman who's wanted a shot at him to slip in by waiting on him to make a move. He'll grow up eventually, but don't lose him in the process, and keep your eyes on that bitch, Delilah. She's wanted Damon since they were kids." I shivered again, this time without forcing it.

"I knew it! She's so damn mean to me."

"Yeah, there's a reason for that. You have, or had, something she wants." I ran my hand down the front of my face.

"All right. When you get back, we'll figure it out."

"Sounds good. Have a great weekend and wish me luck. I'm going into the viper’s nest."

"Oh brother."

"That's me." I smiled and dropped the call, enjoying the lingering effects of talking with my new stepsister. She was good for all of us, and her mother was the best healing for my dad's heart. He still wasn't over my mom's death, not that any of us were.

I closed my eyes and tried to relax as the plane turned slowly. The movement and the hum of the engine lulled me into a daydream state where everything was warm and cozy, safe and welcoming.

The living room wasn't mine, but someone who had taste, no doubt. The colorful painting that hung on the wall behind a brilliant red couch caught my attention and I walked toward it, stopping to let my eyes take in the emotion trapped behind the textured paint.

Passion.

"You like it?" Erica's voice was soft and startled me a little.

I glanced over my shoulder and almost swallowed my tongue.

"Love it," I whispered hoarsely and turned to face the beautiful vixen.

She stood in the doorway to what appeared to be a bedroom, her shoulder pressed to the doorframe and body clad in nothing more than a translucent nightie that brushed the top of her thighs. There wasn't a part of her that I couldn't see. From the smoky rose color of her nipples pressing against the fabric to the dark patch of hair between her thighs. Every part of me woke up and screamed for connection.

"Come here, Matt."

"I can't." I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to breathe past the burning desire lodged in my stomach.

"Why?"

"Because you scare the fuck out of me."

"I won't hurt you." She lifted her arm and tilted her head to the side, stealing my heart if it wasn't already hers. It had been for the last few years as much as I hated to admit it.

"I'm not worried about you hurting me."

"What are you worried about then?" Sadness brushed across her face, and I dropped my arms and moved toward her.

"I'm worried that you'll wake me up from the deep sleep I've been in."

My eyes fluttered open as I crashed into her. A groan left me as I clenched the handles of the seat I was sitting in and the flight attendant walked toward me.

"Mr. Bryant, are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Just need a glass of whiskey. Now, please."