One Night of Trouble

“When I was growing up I used to wish I was an only child,” Brett said, oblivious to his current state of turmoil. “I felt like my dad gave so much attention to my brothers, and not enough for me. I wanted him all to myse—”

“I had a brother,” he blurted out.

She froze. “What? But you just said—”

“He died,” AJ admitted, swallowing a lump of pain. “So technically, I don’t have any siblings. But I used to.”

Her voice softened. “I’m sorry. How did he die?”

It was difficult to answer when his throat had closed up to the point of suffocation. “Accident,” he mumbled. “And not something I want to get into right now.”

To his relief, Brett rerouted her line of questioning. “What was he like?”

Bitterness promptly joined the eddy of emotions in his stomach. “He was perfect.”

She offered a wry look. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“Trust me, Joey was. Football star, straight-A student, perfect manners, hero complex. He followed the rules, didn’t get into trouble, charmed everyone he met. My parents worshipped the ground he walked on.”

“How old were you when he died?”

“Eight. He was sixteen.”

“That’s a pretty big age difference.” She paused. “It makes sense that you think he was perfect. Little kids always put their older siblings on a pedestal. But your parents must be really proud of you, too. You own a successful club, you fought professionally, and probably made tons of money…”

His chest had gone so stiff he was surprised his ribs didn’t crack when he drew a breath. “They’re not too thrilled about Sin, and they were even less thrilled about the fighting.” Before she could respond, he rapidly changed the subject. “Why isn’t your mom around, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Brett’s expression went sad. “She died of breast cancer when I was seven.”

“Ah, shit. I’m sorry to hear that. Were you two close?”

“Yeah. I was her little girl and she spoiled me rotten. Said I deserved it since I had to grow up surrounded by those three idiots.” Brett raised her voice as she gestured to her brothers.

“I heard that,” Jordan shouted.

“You were supposed to,” Brett shouted back. Grinning, she reached for AJ’s hand and gave it a little tug. “Come on, let’s go see what these boneheads are arguing about.”

The second their skin made contact, heat spread through his body in long, pulsing waves. “Actually, I think I’d like another tour,” he drawled. “You didn’t show me the upstairs last time.”

Her breath caught when he rubbed his thumb over the center of her palm. “You wouldn’t,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Wouldn’t what? Keep tormenting you?” He chuckled softly. “But I promised you I would—and I always keep my promises. I’m going to tease you all day, angel. All. Fucking. Day.”

She visibly swallowed. “You’re evil.”

“Damn straight.” He stroked her wrist, then laced their fingers together and turned to address the Conlons. “Excuse us for a second. Brett wants to show me some of her old drawings…”



AJ stayed true to his word. For the next two hours, he found three more excuses to get Brett alone. Three more opportunities to coax her to the edge of orgasm before cruelly wrenching her back. By the time they were preparing to leave, she looked ready to explode, which would have been funny if he weren’t hovering over the same lust-filled powder keg. He just hoped her family hadn’t noticed how many times he’d had to rearrange the front of his pants. He doubted it, seeing as they’d been bickering about sports, cars, and tattoos the whole time.

Despite their three-track minds, though, he’d genuinely enjoyed hanging out with the Conlons. They were entertaining, interesting, and incredibly easy to talk to.

But AJ was tired of talking. It was time to put him and Brett out of their misery before they both went up in flames.

Since Brett had arrived in her own car, they drove to her apartment separately, and even the act of pressing his foot on the gas pedal made his cock ache. Miraculously, he managed to make it to Brett’s place without coming in his pants.

As he hopped out of the Jeep, he was greeted by the scent of garlic and ginger wafting from the Korean general store. The door had been propped open by a milk crate to let the fresh spring air in, the same warm breeze that brushed AJ’s bare arms like a teasing caress.

When Brett’s car pulled up behind his, his pulse took off in a gallop. Christ, he wasn’t leaving her side until both of them were sated and sweaty and limp from pleasure. The club didn’t open until seven and he’d already told his bartenders he might show up late, so he had nothing but time on his hands.

He planned on taking advantage of every damn second.

“Upstairs. Now,” he commanded when Brett met him at the curb.