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Authors: Candace Vianna

Tags: #contemporary romance

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BOOK: The Science of Loving
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Ashley raised her chin as if she were about to argue, but he just stood there like an impassive mountain, stonily silent. Finally, she relented, shooting me an arsenic glare. “Fine. Come on Pauly.”

My breath remained trapped long after she flounced out of sight. I was very much aware of the meaty arm coiled around me. It was vibrating with leashed power that could turn on me at any moment, and a delicious fear shivered from the tips of my ears down my spine. This was why serial killers got fan mail, this dark thrill. Just as my vision began to grey, I heard him murmur, “Breathe.”

 

 

 

It figured Ashley brought the troll. My eyes angrily followed them out of sight. The girl had been frightened and that sick fuck was getting off on it. Although she hadn’t moved or made a sound, I could still feel her trembling. Hell, I was probably scaring her.

“Breathe.” I told myself, taking a deep breath then letting it out slowly, forcing myself to relax. I gave her one last squeeze then released her.

“Hey,” I said softly. She looked away when I tried catching her eyes.
Yep, definitely scared.
“I’m Mathew, Mat, Danny’s brother.” Her dark, lost eyes flitted over my face, and I was thunder struck, wanting only to hold her until the fear was gone. “Are you Angie?”

She nodded, blushing.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get a drink then we’ll see what trouble Danny’s cooking up.” I smiled—trying, but most likely failing, to look harmless—and offered her my hand, hoping she’d take it again. I exhaled when her smaller one disappeared inside my grasp. She was so tiny.

“Okay,” I said, after leading her to the coolers, “We’ve got Bud, Coors, Coronas… Some sort of wine coolers. What’ll be your pleasure?”

She cleared her throat. “Um… A Coors please.” Her voice was so soft I had to strain to hear it.

“A Coors it is.” I snagged a can, brushing the ice off of it before cleaning it with my shirttail and cracking it open. I handed it to her with a flourish then plucked out a Corona, popping its cap off on the side of the cooler. I took a long drink, studying her out of the corner of my eye. I don’t know why it surprised me when she took a healthy swallow herself, I guess I assumed she’d be a sipper.

“Come on, let’s find D.D.” I reached back snagging her hand.
No, sweetheart you’re not getting away just yet.

“D.D.?”

“Demented Danny.” A shy smile flitted far too quickly across her face as our eyes meet. You’d better believe Danny was going to hear about the troll later. I couldn’t believe that fucktard thought it was okay to put his hands on her like that.

The kitchen was blessedly empty, but bad karaoke floated on the air—
well hell, Danny’d found it
—I might’ve accidentally misplaced her karaoke machine on purpose after she plied me with tequila one night, then posted videos of me singing show tunes on Facebook. Although, my “White Lightening” rendition wasn’t too bad, posting my cover of “Hopelessly Devoted” was just plain cruel.

“Shit, Danny found the karaoke machine. Please tell me you’re a fellow hater.”

“There’s not enough booze in the world.”
Yea, an ally.
“But from what I saw on Facebook, you didn’t seem to hate it all that much.”
Motherfucker.

“Yeah, tequila makes me stupid.”

“That’s why I only drink it under duress,” she said seriously.

“Well, unfortunately, Danny has the same effect on me, hence, the tequila.”

“She said as much earlier. I guess we endure a lot from the people we love.” She looked sad, even though she was smiling.

“Okay, here’s the plan. You go in there, and throw yourself on the grenade while I run and hide. We go on three.”
Hey a real smile.
“No dice, huh?”

She shook her head, blushing. “Maybe you should try hiding the tequila instead.”

“I can’t do that. It would be unfair to make Danny take the fall for all my stupidity.”

I’d just finished rinsing my empty Corona bottle when this drunk chick stumbled in. She flung her arms around my neck, falling against me. “Hey you… I just want to lick you all over.”
Booze breath. Nice.

“No you don’t, I’m icky.” I untangled myself, reaching out to steady her when she began to sway. “Where’s your car?”

“You wanna go for a ride?” She smoothed her hands down my chest, and I grabbed her wrists when she tried slipping under my shirt. “We don’t need a car for that. C’mon baby, there’s gotta be a bed around here somewhere.”

“Not happening, darling. I just don’t want you driving.”

“Bet I can change your mind handsome. I can be a lotta fun.” She was having trouble focusing her eyes—uh oh, I knew that look—I spun her around in time for her vomit to mostly land in the sink, right on top of my freshly washed Corona bottle.
Motherfucker.

I held onto her until she was puking up nothing but air and spit. “All done there?”

She nodded weakly.

Shit, Angie’d escaped while I was busy with puke girl. After I helped her to a kitchen chair, I got a washcloth from the drawer by the sink, the stench of alcohol laced vomit making me gag—
dammit, I’m not cleaning that up… Shit, yes I am. Fuck—
she’d just taken the cloth from me when Angie returned with a sweating bottled water.

“Thanks girlfriend, even if I don’t know who you are.” At least that’s what it sounded like. She was slurring so much it was hard to tell. Then her eyes started to fill. Shit, I hated when they cried. “I’m sorry.”

I knew with a glance that in a few minutes semi-conscious-drunk-girl would be passed-out-cold-girl, so I let Angie handle her while I held my breath, and quickly hosed out the sink, hoping I wouldn’t add to it. “Here, let’s get her to the guest room then we’ll let Danny know.”

“I’ll go tell her,” Angie said.

I lunged, grabbing the back of her shirt when she made a break for it. “Nice try, sweetheart, but there’s no way you’re leaving me alone with a barely aware drunk chick. Who knows what she’ll accused me of later? This time tomorrow, the cops could show up at my door, and before you know it, I’m rocking an orange jumpsuit, singing “Summer Loving” with a guy named Snake.”

I would’ve tossed Angie’s new bestie over my shoulder if she hadn’t stopped me. “I wouldn’t carry her like that, not unless you want sick down your back.”
Good point.

When we got to Danny’s guest room, Angie squeezed around me to open the door. She turned down the bed then stepped aside so I dump Miss Lotta-Fun on it. After tugging off her shoes and arranging her limbs more comfortably, Angie set the half-finished water on the table beside her. She really was sweet.

“Come on, sweetness.” I held out my hand. “Time to let Satan know she has a fallen soldier.”

Danny’s face lit up when she saw us together. “Angie, I see you’ve met Mat.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “And baby sis, we need to have a long, long talk about the company you keep.” She just snorted at me, scratching her chin with her middle finger.
Motherfucker
!

 

 

Mat’s hand engulfed mine as I followed him through the crowded home. Ink peeked from the neck of his strained tee shirt, and I was hypnotized by the way the loose jeans riding low on his hips, alternately hugged and released his behind. I should’ve known Danny’s brother would be every bit as cool as she was. “—and baby sis, we need to have a long, long talk about the company you keep.”
Wait, did she just flip him off?

Oh, he wasn’t happy. Now that he no longer needed a chaperon, he was probably looking for a graceful way to ditch me. “Well, it was nice meeting you, but… Umm… I really need to get going,” I said, letting him off the hook. “So thanks for inviting me?”

I tried disentangling my hand, but Mat wasn't letting go. If anything, his fingers subtly tightened, and I flushed as he studied me. “It’s only seven-thirty, sweetheart.”

Danny was looking at me like I’d gone nuts. “No, girlfriend,” she said, hooking an arm around my neck. “What you
need
is a blowjob.”

“Oh, hell yeah!” Mat grinned, tugging me from his sister, And somehow, I found myself back in Danny’s small kitchen, pressed against the refrigerator as a mob crowded in behind us. Mat had laid out a line of shot glasses, and Danny was wielding a couple liquor bottles like a ninja; pouring an equal measure into each of them until they were almost full before setting the bottles aside.

Danny went to open the refrigerator, but I was hemmed in by too many bodies to get out of the way. I stumbled. Suddenly everything was too bright, too loud; voices, laughter and music coming together in a dizzying jumble. Growing frantic, I broke out in a clammy sweat even as I froze. I couldn’t get enough air. Dark flickers danced before my eyes and a detached part of me wondered, not for the first time, if this was what a heart attack felt like. I began to fold. The world tilted as my feet left the floor, and the large hands encircling my waist, deposited me on the island in the center of the kitchen.

“Breathe with me.” A rumbling voice brushed against my ear, and I took a shuddering breath. “Again,” it demanded. Burrowing into a warm neck, I forced myself to take measured breaths as strong hands slid up and down my arms. My heart slowed. And my next breath came more easily than the last, and the one after that, easier still.

My senses returned before reason, tasting a hint of salt on the smooth skin that rolled and flexed with every brush of his palms, my aching fingers clutching fistfuls of soft cotton. Awareness slowly crept back and I wanted to disappear. God, I should have stayed on my medication, but it had been so long since my last episode, I thought I’d finally outgrown them.

While I prayed for a sudden, idiopathic heart attack that failed to appear, Danny had been busy. After topping all the shots with whipped cream, she began filling mouths directly from the canister. When it emitted nothing but air, she toss it into the sink and begin distributing the drinks.

Mat leaned back as she slid a couple shots over to us, and mortification set when I realized I was still trying to climb inside him. Keeping my eyes glued on the dark brown, cream topped confection, I withdrew with as much dignity as one could, after mauling a complete stranger—
this is Danny’s big brother—
I couldn’t bring myself to look at the man standing inches away guarding my calm. I’d already made a big enough fool of myself. I could only hope that if I pretended to be normal, good manners would force him to do the same until I could make my escape.

Danny said raised her shot. “To those that swallow and the ones chasing after them,”

“Amen.” Mat agreed tapping glasses.

Throwing back his head, he downed the shot whipped cream and all, his throat undulating in one smooth swallow. A leftover trail of thick white foam appeared on his upper lip begging to be tasted, and it wasn’t until his tongue finished swiping it away that I glanced up into darkening grey eyes. One winged eyebrow lifted, and my face grew hot.
Oh, God, please just take me now.

“Drink up sweetness,” he said with a Vin Diesel rumble. I knew he was toying with me, trying to get me flustered—
trying? Who was I kidding? I was beyond flustered
—with a great deal of effort, I managed to look him in the eye as I tipped back my shot. It was surprisingly sweet, like a dessert, coffee and almonds. I tilted my head further back when the whipped cream clung stubbornly to the bottom of the glass. It released in one big glop, some of it going up my nose, and just when I thought I might pull it off, I heard him murmur, “So, is this your first blowjob?”

I paused—
is he flirting with me
—How I swallowed the rest without choking, I’ll never know. When I realized he was studying me with the same intensity I’d given him, I briefly considered swiping my tongue across my lips the way he’d done, but I chickened out. Glancing down, I wiped my mouth with the tip of my finger. My eyes shot up when his fingers braceleted my wrist. Pinning me with his gaze, he sucked my finger into his mouth, lazily swirling his tongue around it far longer than necessary as humor danced in his eyes—
oh, my God, he is flirting with me.

BOOK: The Science of Loving
7.09Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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