There was something to be said for waking up under the hands of a man who knew what to do with them.
“Yes. Oh, my...yes.”
That was what had to be said, and Celia couldn’t stop saying it.
Lucky, lucky her.
She was facedown on her bed, her head partially buried in a pillow that now smelled like Ry. With her ass up, her lower back was arched as she pressed her bare chest against the sheets.
“God...yes.”
Her knees sank into the mattress, spread wide and gently bouncing with every energetic thrust of Ry’s cock, his hips colliding with her ass with impacts that were heard as well as felt. His strong fingers gripped her hips, jerking her back hard to meet each and every surge of his pumping hips.
Filling her.
Drilling her.
It was amazing.
“Mm.” She bit her lip, closed her eyes, and let the shivers of pleasure swallow her. “Yes. Yes, Ry.”
This was fucking.
Thorough, animalistic, straight-up fucking.
And she loved it.
“So tight. God, you’re so fucking tight, darlin’. I love this tight pussy so much. Never gonna get enough of it.” The words growled out through short breaths moments before he pulled her ass up higher, deepening his angle of penetration. His rigid staff thrust deeper, and that kicked the pleasure into overdrive. She whimpered into the rumpled bedclothes as the building rapture sharpened inside her, tingling her nerves and tightening every muscle with exquisite tension. She reared back urgently against him, chasing that building sensation that would surely kill her once it broke.
“That’s it.” His ragged voice vibrated through her to hit her right in her throbbing cleft. “Ride my cock, Celia. Ride my cock so fucking hard. Take me in. Feel me all the way inside you.”
“Yes.” It came out as a half-moan, half-cry, but she couldn’t help it. The stretching of her interior walls and the sweet spot his cock hit with increasingly powerful thrusts had the promise of bliss ballooning inside her.
“Help me finish you off, baby.” With the surging of his hips never breaking rhythm, Ry bent over her back, grabbed her hand fisted on a pillow and brought it underneath her. His fingers slid with hers down her stomach and into her cleft before his hand left hers to return to holding her at her hip. “Finger-fuck yourself and come when I do, Celia. Nothing hotter than feeling you and hearing you when you come... God, fuck.”
“Yes, yes, yesss!” It took no more than a couple swirls of her finger around her clit to snap the sweetly agonizing tension. The release of it was immense, an explosion of mindless ecstasy that shattered everything that she thought she was, and put her back together as something new. Something different.
Something his.
With two, three, four massive thrusts, Ry groaned as if tortured as the same pleasure overtook him. She reached back for him even as he collapsed onto her, turning them both on their sides as he did so. For long, breathless moments they lay there spoon fashion before he gently slid out of her and kissed her bare shoulder.
“Told you it’d be worth the wait.” She could feel him smile against her, the scrape of his morning whiskers pleasantly abrasive against her skin. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”
“As if I could,” she managed to say, but he was already gone, heading into the bathroom to deal with the condom and wash up. Minutes later he was back and pulling her against him as he settled back against the pillows. “That was... I’ve never...ever...like that. Wow.”
“Damn, I think I broke you.” Sounding inordinately pleased with himself, he kissed the crown of her head. “You don’t seem to be able to put together a complete sentence.”
“I didn’t know.” She couldn’t stop herself from rambling on, because he needed to know that whatever he did just now, she fully expected him do it again, and as often as possible. “No wonder people become addicted to sex. If it’s going to be that good between us, I’m an addict in the making. For real.”
His chuckle was a masculine work of art. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“I’m serious, Ry. It’s like you’ve got magical penis powers or something.”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “Oh no, you’ve discovered my secret. I have the mutant power to make you come so hard you lose your mind and make you my willing sex slave.”
“Willing is right.” She snuggled against him and tried not to fangirl-squeal over the sensation of his skin against hers. God, he felt good. “We need more condoms. After a nice, long nap your mindless sex slave’s going to want more of that mutant Brody action.”
“Mutant Brody action,” he repeated with another laugh, though unlike the last time, this laugh sounded like it had very little to do with humor. “Maybe that’s the reason why we Brody men get things all fucked up. Maybe we’re mutants. Or cursed.”
Celia tilted her head back against his shoulder to search his expression. “You’ve mentioned that before.”
“I’ve mentioned a lot of things before.”
“Yeah, like shouting from the rooftops when you finally got rid of someone you hate.” She reached up to cup his cheek when he would have looked away. “What was that about?”
“I guess you could say it’s all part of the same problem. The Brody worship bullshit, the men who can’t seem to keep their damn cocks in their pants, the hatred that filled my growing up years.” He shrugged a dismissive shoulder. “It’s all the same epic ball of shit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want to bore you.”
She gave that a moment’s thought. “You wouldn’t let me get away with that dodge, pal. Or am I wrong?”
“No.” A corner of his mouth curled. “You can be a real pain in the ass, you know that?”
“I try. And you’re still dodging.”
“I don’t know, Cel,” he said through a long sigh. “It’s just hard as hell, admitting you hated your parents so much a part of you celebrated when they died. Not usually the kind of thing you talk about, you know?”
“I don’t know.” Repositioning herself so that she rested halfway on his chest, she rested her chin on her folded hands and looked him right in the eye. “Sounds to me like that’s something you need to talk about more than ever. Otherwise the darkness that comes along with something like that might swallow you whole.”
“The darkness.” He repeated the words absently, while his hand lifted to sift through her hair. “Yeah, that’s a good description of a large chunk of my life. Same goes for my brothers, especially Des. There are times when I look back on all the shit our parents put us through and I’m fucking amazed we’re all as well-adjusted as we are now.”
“It’s cute how you think you’re well-adjusted,” Celia murmured, then gave him a lazy wink when he shot her a speaking glance. “Though I suppose you could be a lot worse than you are, bossy man.”
“I’m bossy because I know how things should go in order for life to be one smooth ride, mainly because I grew up in a world where the ride was pure hell from dawn to dusk. I had no say in how things were, none of us did. So if that miserable shit-show made me bossy, that’s just something you’re going to have to live with.”
She couldn’t stop a sound of sympathy as she again touched his cheek. “Was it that bad, your childhood?”
He shook his head. “For the first nine years or so, life in the Brody household was my personal idea of utopia. My brothers Killian, Finian and I were best friends, my grandmother seemed as happy as she ever got, and my parents...damn, they were like the end result of a fairytale, you know? They had that happily-ever-after crap down—always kissing and laughing and cuddling whenever they were in the same room together. They sang together in the car and held hands everywhere they went. They loved each other enough to not care that they were corny as hell. The kind of love they had...you could fucking see it, you know? I look back on that time in my life, and all I can think is how the hell could they have thrown that heaven on earth away like it was nothing. How could they do that?”
She could only shake her head. It seemed like an awful waste. “What were they like?”
“You mean before they blew the hell out of our family?”
“Yeah.”
“Keir and Della Brody were like a complete set, if that makes any sense. They were fine by themselves, but when they were together, there was always laughter and music and stupid jokes. It’s like whenever they were together, and you were with them, it felt like a party. Did you ever meet them?”
She shook her head. “They died when I was around seven or eight, I think.”
“Whatever was inside them died long before that plane ever hit the ground,” came the flat reply. “They killed each other day by day, Cel. It just took a decade of that slow-creeping hell to catch up with them.”
She brushed a thumb over his whiskery cheek. “What happened to them?”
“Des happened, though it’s not his fault he got created on the side.” Again he grimaced before shooting her another glance. “Did you know Des is only five months younger than Fin?”
Her brows went up. “No.”
“Yeah. The math is brutal, because it doesn’t lie. My dad fucked around with another woman while his wife—the woman he was supposed to adore—was four months pregnant. You’re no man if you pull shit like that. You’re nothing but a poor excuse for one.”
“I can’t imagine how devastating that would have been, on so many sides,” she murmured, trying to picture his confusion when he was suddenly presented with a brother from another mother—literally. “I’ve always wondered how Des came to live with you and your family up at the main house when he was, what? Five? Six?”
“Five. His mother dumped him on our doorstep because her husband found out Des wasn’t his. Poor Des,” he added, and his voice turned rough. “He’d loved the man he thought was his real dad, but when the truth came out, that asshole turned on him and demanded Des get turfed out to his ‘real’ daddy. I understand being pissed at your no-good bitch of a wife for sleeping around and trying to pass off someone else’s kid as your own. But to take it out on an innocent child who loves and trusts you...” He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. “It went from bad to worse for Des when he arrived at our place. If he thought he was hated by the man he’d called Daddy, that was nothing compared to the unbelievable hate my mother poured on that kid every fucking day for ten years. I’ll bet no one was happier than Des when we were told their plane went down outside of Corpus.”
“I don’t understand why your parents stayed together,” she said, focusing on what he must have gone through when his utopia had been pulled out from under him. “It wasn’t healthy for them to stay together, and it certainly wasn’t healthy for any of you, Des especially.”
“When the old man’s cheating was uncovered, rational thought flew right out the fucking window for my parents. Overnight my brothers and I became prisoners in that goddamn house. We were stuck in that hellhole with my mother and father, and it was like being on a battlefield with nowhere to hide. Even after all these years I hate walking into the main house. The moment I do, it’s like I hit a time warp and suddenly I’m back in the hell of it all—the screaming matches, things being thrown around, the threats to kill each other, depending on who had lost their mind that day—”
“Holy crap.”
“It’s like they became the bizarro world opposites of what they once were, you know? The laughter, the kissing and the holding hands...everything that was good withered and died for them. All that was left was this crazy-eyed rage that never ended. They’d go to their separate bedrooms screaming at each other, only to wake up to cut at each other some more. Then my mom started sleeping around herself just to get back at my old man.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. It only came to an end when my old man loaded her onto the Cessna he’d flown for years, and plowed it into a cotton field somewhere south of here.”
Her breath caught. “Not on purpose.”
“He got his pilot’s license when he was a teenager, Cel, just like his father before him, just like me and all my brothers. We’re experienced pilots and we know the ins and outs of every plane on this ranch from the time we’re out of middle school. That plane nose-dived straight down. There was nothing wrong with the instruments, no mechanical error. Maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe they got into another fight. Maybe it got physical and an instrument got knocked and they lost control. Who knows? All I know is that by the time they died, my three brothers and I hated them on some level. We were their captive audience, and they forced us to witness their self-destruction day by day for ten fucking years. I’ve only ever admitted this to Kill, but having them gone...it was an incredible relief to have their war finally come to an end.”
She had to fight to keep from tearing up. “That’s heartbreaking, Ry. They were your parents.”
“They’d stopped being parents long before they died. What’s truly fucking sad is that they were too busy trying to destroy each other to even notice they’d destroyed us instead.”
“You deserved better. You all did.” Gently she pressed a kiss over his heart. “I guess it makes sense now why none of you Brody brothers have settled down and started your own families. Family must equal war to all of you. Who in their right mind would ever voluntarily get back into something like that?”
“Don’t forget, I had solid nine years of good before it all turned to shit. I know family can be good. Better yet, I know something my hopeless screw-up of an old man didn’t know—hold on to the ones you love. There’s nothing more important than that. Hold on to them, and protect them with everything in you. That’s the key to it all, I think.”
“If only the people who claim you Brodys are unmarriable could hear you now.” With a sleepy chuckle, Celia laid her cheek against his chest and let the steady beat of his heart lull her into closing her eyes. “Holding on to the people you love and protecting them with all you’ve got...that’s how it is in my family.”
“Didn’t your folks move to Beeville a while back?”
“Yeah, but they moved there to take care of my abuela—my grandmother—when my abuelo died, and she didn’t want to move. So, they chose to go to her. You see? Family takes care of family.”
“Who takes care of you?”
She yawned as sleep crept ever closer. “I take care of me.”
“From now on, I’ll take care of you, too.” Again he brushed her hair with his mouth. “That’s a promise, darlin’.”
“Mm,” she murmured, and drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Was sex powerful enough to change the world?
The question rattled around Celia’s head as she headed into Abel’s Market, the one and only full-sized grocery store in Bitterthorn. Technically speaking, nothing had actually changed in her life; she was still persona non grata, and she still believed that if she were bleeding to death somewhere in public, the so-called gentlemen in town would simply step over her as if she were nothing more than a speed bump.
But...
The town seemed a lot less offensive today than it did yesterday. And the only thing she could think of that was different was the fact that she’d experienced the most extraordinary night of sex in the history of everything.
Not that she had a vast amount of experience to compare it to. Her first time—near the end of her senior year in high school with a teenaged Lothario—had been utterly forgettable. Then there’d been her semi-serious boyfriend a couple years back. Like her, he’d been studying digital art and they’d had some decent chemistry together. But before she could get around to thinking he might be The One, he’d “borrowed” some of her designs and gotten himself a job in Hollywood making animated features.
Good riddance.
But even if she’d had a dozen lovers instead of just her measly two, she still would have known what Ry had given her last night was beyond compare. The man was a freaking rock star in the sack, and she couldn’t wait to get him back there to see what else he could do.
So naturally, they needed more condoms.
Small town shopping was never fun when it came to personal items, but for the first time since she’d goosed Ry in public, Celia was grateful for her near-invisibility. All she had to do was go in, pick up a box, and no one would even notice her.
Easy peasy.
“Well, well, fancy meeting you here. Maybe we should have carpooled.”
Celia whirled and found Willard and Pauline bearing down on her, all smiles.
While she stood in front of the display of condoms.
Shit.
“Uh, hey there.” Covertly casting around to see what else was stocked in that aisle, Celia blindly grabbed up some deodorant. “If I’d known you two were going to hit Abel’s, I would have been happy to do some shopping for you.” Not to mention it would have been so much easier to slip a box of condoms in with a bigger shopping.
“What, and cheat us out of an opportunity to get out of the house? For shame.” Seated on one of the store’s motorized carts, Pauline tipped her a wink. “Trust me, hon. When you get to be our age, a trip to the grocery store becomes a major event.”
“It’s definitely going to be a major event now that you’ve decided to be the internet’s answer to Julia Child. Our grocery bill’s going to go through the roof.” Leaning on a half-filled grocery cart, Willard rolled his eyes heavenward. “Do you know what this madwoman wants me to do? She wants me to build her a movie studio right in our backyard, can you believe it?”
“It’s not a movie studio, and you love it.” Pauline gave his arm a playful swat before beaming over at Celia. “Willard isn’t quite sure about what I’m asking him to do, because he doesn’t get video blogging—”
“I do, too. Sorta. I think.”
“—so today I’m going to video myself making my famous praline ice cream, as well as a few other dishes.”
“And by a few, she means half her recipe index,” her husband groused, looking put-upon. “That’s why we’re here. Apparently we’re buying out the store today.”
Pauline made a face at him. “We are not buying out the store, so you can just hush.”
“I’m pushing a cart, and you’re driving one, so that means we’re buying out the store. Celia doesn’t even have a cart, just one of those handbasket things. What are you here for, Cel?”
“Deodorant,” she said promptly, holding it up.
“See?” Willard said to his wife. “That’s how to shop right there. Bam, one item. Plain and simple.”
“Uh, honey, that’s men’s deodorant.” Pauline’s sharp eyes were trained on the item she held aloft. “A men’s deodorant with a scent that drives women wild, if you can believe their stupid commercials.”
“I love those commercials,” Willard announced. “Hey Cel, can I borrow your deodorant when you’re done with it?”
“Whoops. Grabbed the wrong one.” Mortified and wishing she could find a way out of both the conversation and the store in the next five seconds, she shoved the deodorant back into its slot and searched for her own brand. “Guess my mind was elsewhere.”
“Mm, it was probably focused on why Ryland Brody’s truck was parked outside your place all night,” Pauline said, nodding. “And of course, the rows and rows of rubbers behind you.”
“Do they still call them rubbers?” Willard wanted to know while Celia made a choking sound and her face grew so hot she thought it might go up in flames. “Kids these days, they come up with all sorts of slang for things. What do you call rubbers nowadays, Celia?”
“Necessary. Vaguely mortifying. Take your pick.” It would be a mercy if she could die right there...
“At least we don’t have to have the birds and bees talk with you,” Pauline said with a Cheshire Cat grin. “That would be mortifying.”
She could feel her eyes bug out. “And this isn’t?”
“Not for us,” Willard confided. “Personally I’m having the time of my life. How ’bout you, Pauline?”
“Are you kidding? Shopping and teasing Celia until her head explodes? It’s like Christmas.”
Ugh. “So glad you’re enjoying yourselves.”
“Don’t let us interrupt your shopping,” Pauline added while that wicked grin of hers widened. Any second now her friend and neighbor would be squealing with glee. “Feel free to peruse the selection. Don’t mind us.”
“I’ve decided not to bother. You two are the best birth control there is,” Celia muttered, then glared when they both burst out laughing. “So, I guess the whole town knows where Ry, uh...parked his truck last night?”
“Nice euphemism,” Willard snorted, still chuckling. “If kids are referring to sex as parking your truck, who knows what they’re calling rubbers these days.”
“Honey, have you forgotten we live in the boonies? Why would anyone know besides us?” Pauline shrugged while her husband struggled to get himself under control. “More to the point, who cares? It’s your business and no one else’s.”
“If only that were true.” A hint of bitterness seeped in through the embarrassment, and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing around to see if anyone was watching them. “That’s the one great thing about big cities. Nobody cares if a truck stays parked in front of your house overnight.”
Pauline clicked her tongue. “Now, now, no need to get defensive. We don’t care what you do in the privacy of your own home. If anything, we’re happy for you and Ry.”
“Yeah,” Willard nodded, beaming. “After all, if you two are becoming an item, that’s got to mean you’re beginning to think it might not be so bad around here after all, right?”
“And,” Pauline added before Celia could respond, “if that’s the case, then maybe you’ll have second thoughts about taking that job up in Dallas.”
Celia loosed an exasperated sigh. “Swear to God, the grapevine in this town is better than the CIA. Did Lucy tell you about that?”
“It was either Lucy or Sully.” Pauline waved an airy hand. “Not that it matters. I think everyone in town knows you went up to Dallas for a job interview. Did you ever hear back from them? Velso and Company, or something like that?”
“Velni and Associates.” It took a conscious effort for Celia not to face-palm. She’d totally forgotten about that. “They sent me an email last night, which I was responding to when Ry showed up.”
Willard’s brows went up. “And? What’d they have to say?”
“They sent me a detailed package of all the benefits they offer to their fulltime employees, along with a lengthy contract. They’ve offered me the job,” she added unnecessarily while Willard and Pauline exchanged speaking glances. “It’s a decent offer. Full benefits, partial moving costs, that sort of thing. The pay isn’t great to start out, but there’s a lot of opportunity for advancement. I could do worse.”
“You could also do better.” Pauline’s mouth was a tight line, and the laughter was nothing but a distant memory. “Did you accept the job offer?”
“Not yet.” Her gaze went past them to the rows of condoms, and the memory of the night before—and this morning—shoved everything into the background. “I kind of forgot about answering that email until this very moment.”
“Do yourself a favor and don’t jump on the first job that comes along, Celia,” Willard advised. “That sort of thing is a life-changing commitment. You don’t want to rush it. Not to mention Dallas is so far away.”
“Exactly,” Celia said, but without conviction. “That was kind of the point when I applied for the job. Getting away from Bitterthorn was my number-one goal.”
Pauline’s gaze sharpened. “Was? Does that mean it’s not your number-one goal anymore?”
“It...is.” She couldn’t help the hesitation, because once again her brain kept insisting that having sex with Ry had somehow changed the world. It was crazy, of course, but it was a feeling she just couldn’t shake. “I wouldn’t miss this town if I left, that much I know.”
“You wanna know what I know?” Willard said, looking almost mournful. “We’d miss the hell out of you, hon. And I’ll bet we wouldn’t be the only ones.”
Ry.
Would he miss her?
Long after Celia said her farewells to the Padgetts and made her condom purchase, she still didn’t have a solid answer.