Recklessly Devoted
(Bennett Brothers #3)
Chapter 1
CASSY
One year ago
“Heellloo.” I drawl out each letter, watching a fine specimen of a man walk into Nelly’s pub. I’m sitting perched up onto a stool at Kat’s and my table. My head following the man walking in. I allow myself to shamelessly look him over. His body is stiff, yet his swagger has an air of cockiness. It holds discipline, strength, and confidence. He’s wearing a gray V-neck T-shirt, and faded blue jeans. His shirt cuts off half of his tattoo, just showing the start of black Roman numerals. My eyes rake back up his body once more before I really take notice of what limited facial features I can see. He’s not pretty, but is handsome. His features look hardened, and his short brown hair just sits on his head like he never bothered to do anything with it.
He sticks out of the crowd loudly, tourist.
I turn around to Kat. “Cheers to a good night!” I raise my glass to hers while my mind stays on the stranger.
For one night I don’t want to care what his family name is, or his background. I want him for me, just one night to allow myself to throw my father’s voice out of my mind. To act on impulse, desire, and lust.
Now I’m no saint. I love a good fuck and a better tongue lashing. But it’s always been calculated, measured. These thoughts have been engraved into me since I can remember.
To be successful I had to find the right husband, with the right pedigree and the right money. My father could never handle if my life turned out like his did. I have to do this for him, because he is all I have.
I could never judge him for this, I couldn’t possibly understand losing one’s wife with a month-old baby, living in poverty, until finally saving enough money to build your wife’s dream house—the only thing is, it’s too late. She is gone. But you do have one daughter to make right by.
I give my head a shake, as if to remove myself from those thoughts and find myself glancing toward the back where the pool tables are located.
“Kat, isn’t that Chase over there?” I ask her, trying to give myself a reason to wander over there.
My best friend turns her head, her long brunette locks being tossed behind her back with her sudden movement.
“It looks like the one and only.” She sips her drink, refusing to meet my gaze, but it’s obvious she has a thing for that man. Being the greatest best friend, I’ll make this easy on her.
“Let’s go check out the game.” I’m slipping off my stool, grabbing her hand and leading the way. For her sake, not mine. That’s the type of friend I am.
I watch as the tourist steadies his eyes on the table, calling out the pocket that the ball will land in. It is mesmerizing. I find myself stepping closer, situating myself amongst the small crowd that has gathered.
I’d love to pinch his ass, as it lifts up from him leaning over the table. I hear the crowd clap as he sinks the last ball, still with Chase’s balls left on the table.
I can’t help myself, I saunter up to him. “Hey, cowboy,” I greet him even though he looks nothing like a cowboy. I allow my hands to rest on his pool cue. I watch his eyes sweep up and down my body before an appreciative smile graces those lips I want to taste. My hand glides up and down slightly. “You’re pretty good with this stick.” Corny, I know, but he’s a dude. You have to be as forward as possible otherwise they can miss the mark completely.
“It’s not the only thing I’m good at, beautiful.”
Good boy, he knows what I’m up to. The best part is that he will be out of this town by the end of the weekend.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks. Polite, too.
I shrug coyly. “Sure.” And allow him to take my hand to lead the way.
The bar is overcrowded so he wraps his arm around my waist to keep us from getting separated.
“What do you want to drink, sweetheart?” His voice hits my ear and it’s sexy.
“I’ll get a beer.” I wait a beat then continue. “Then how about you show me what type of truck you drive?” I’m moving a little fast, totally not my style. To be truthful, I’ve never had sex until after the third date. No man wants to marry the girl who gives it up on the first date. Like I said, I’m always calculating. But I have no vision of me marrying this man. I just need him to show me a good time. I need this escape from my reality.
The family reality that I try to hide from everyone. I’m carefree, happy Cassy Campbell, life of the party. No one likes a Debbie Downer.
He stares into my eyes, and I begin to wonder if I’m being too forward and scaring him off. My heart is pounding, wondering if I am going to be rejected. The way he looks at me has my hands shaking with vulnerability. I go to open my mouth to tell him to ignore what I just said. I was stupid to try this in Three Rivers anyway. But then his mouth crashes on mine. His lips mold perfectly into mine and it takes everything in me to not melt against him. The rhythm is perfect against mine. There are no awkward moments, where he goes right, I go left. I want to pour my feelings into this kiss, it seems that intimate, even in a crowd with beer lingering in the air. But I hold myself back. I refuse to let my heart play a part in this.
I refuse to believe the chemistry is anything more than physical. The kiss slows and softens before I pull away. Wow. That was one hell of a first kiss.
He looks down at me, with a soft, knowing grin. The type of grin that can melt panties off a nun. “Well, I think I am going to enjoy you seducing me tonight, sweetheart,” he purrs into my ear, his body is so close to mine it is hard to see his face. Excitement rushes through me.
“Cowboy, you have no idea. I am going to ruin you for all time,” I whisper into his ear before nipping his earlobe.
“How thirsty are you for that drink?” he asks me, my body still snug against his hard, muscular chest and thighs.
“What drink?” I reply, winking at him.
With one knowing glance at me, he turns, leading me out by my hand. My skin is hot with the excitement and my skin is already hot with the excitement of being with the mysterious, sexy tourist. The parking lot is full for being a weekend and vacant with everyone inside thrust for a drink.
He leads me to what I assume is his truck at the back of the lot. The light from the pub doesn’t quite reach this far back. He wastes no time before I am pushed up against the black vehicle and his hands are roaming across my skin. His touch is warm and passionate, with a needy edge. Taking control of the moment, he pushes my legs apart with one of his. I can feel my clit pulsing against our rough jeans. Grabbing ahold of my hair with one hand, he tilts my head back, peppering light kisses from my jaw down to my collarbone and back up to my lips. His other hand glides along my bra, roughly moving the cups down to gain access to my tits.
His hand molds them perfectly with light touches, then a strong, tight squeeze on my nipple, causing me to moan and arch into him. Greedily I rub against him, and I can feel his arousal. Another grind of the hips and I have a slight idea about how big he is. His lips leave mine and sweep across my neck. It feels amazing. Then I can feel the light breeze from the night dance upon my skin as he lifts my shirt up and his mouth clamps down onto one of my puckered nipples. It’s the right amount of pressure and tongue.
I feel his fingers playing with the button of my pants and I stretch out my hands to do the same to him. To only have my hands swept up with his left hand and gripped to allow them no movement. It takes him no time to unzip my pants, the breeze coasting along the edges of my cream-colored thong, as he tried to pull the material away with one hand. His lips have come back up and when they leave my skin he says, “When I let go of your hands, I want you to touch your tits.” I can feel his grip loosen on my wrists until they are holding themselves up and he is shimmying my tight pants down to my ankles. His fingers stroke my legs and he plants light kisses along the inside of my thigh as he moves up. My clit is throbbing, needing him to touch me more. His breath feels hot on my already wet, thin cotton strip. He kisses the material, causing me to want to jump him even more.
The feeling is so light on the fabric it’s infuriating, causing me to get even more hot and bothered. My hands knead my boobs, pinching my nipples as I try to replicate his touch from earlier. I can feel my panties slowly being pulled down and I am bare to him. I’m too aroused to care if anyone can see us. But I also know that being this far back into the parking lot, no one will see a thing.
Then a song cuts through the silence of the night. I hear him curse under his breath, just as I can feel the tip of his tongue. A tongue I want very much to lick me and to fuck me.
“One second, sweetheart.” Then his touch is gone. “Is this important?” I hear him ask.
I open my eyes to see him crouched near the ground with his cell phone to his ear. What the hell?
“I told you earlier that I will go when I have time. So the fact that I haven’t gone in means I haven’t had a chance yet.” I can see his jaw clench. He holds up a lone finger trying to indicate one second.
No fucking hell. I, Cassy Campbell, do not play seconds to a phone call. If this isn’t the biggest buzz kill I don’t know what is. Then I can hear voices enter the parking lot. Quickly, I bend down to pull up my pants, trying to put myself back together before stomping off to go find Kat. She is probably worried sick wondering where I had just wandered off to.
I can hear him call after me, but makes no move to chase me or hang up his phone call. What a waste of good talent. This is why I should have never broken my third date rule. Hell, my no one-night stand rule.
*
BRODY
I watch her march away from me and scrub my face with my one hand, as my cell phone is tight to my ear. Fucking hell. That did not go as planned.
I can still hear my Lieutenant Colonel disciplining me. I let him ramble on; interrupting will do me no good. They just don’t get it, no one does. It’s a lot more than my ego that is hurt. I put on a good face telling my brothers, Chase and Tyson, that I want to be in Three Rivers. But, in truth, I am ashamed and the damage done to me has killed a part of my soul. No one truly knows the depth of the accident. I can’t bring myself to accept it yet. Other than the army, no one knows of the doctor’s orders I refuse, or the mandated counselling appointments.
The only thing everyone knows is that I was promoted to Corporal then got hurt. I can’t face the people back home. I play it off like it’s nothing. But this is why I am in fact hiding in Three Rivers.