Brianne St. Clare sipped on her second glass of wine, the warmth of the liquid causing a nice buzz to fill her body. She loved wine, cherished the way it helped her to relax, and usually had one glass a night. But today was different, and though she wasn't accustomed to drinking heavily, the wedding between her best friend, Jolie, and Mac was a good reason to indulge in the beverage. That and the fact that one particular man at the reception had been eyeing her all evening. Even now she felt the burn of his gaze on her flesh.
“You look beautiful tonight. Would you like to dance?”
She didn't have to turn around to know the voice belonged to Clint. She sure as hell didn't want to admit that his deep tone sent shivers through her body. She could've ignored him and continued to sip her wine. But she turned around because she was no coward and she would never want him to think she was.
She knew she looked damn good tonight, having lost about twenty pounds in two months. The weight loss had been caused by stress and exercise, but she wouldn't tell him that. The mini-makeover she and Jolie had treated themselves to had helped her looks, even though it put a dent in Brianne's very tight finances. But she couldn't help but be happy with the results. Her hair was still long but in layers, and with the expertly applied makeup that Jolie insisted on, she'd probably say she even looked great. She took another sip of her drink before answering. “And you're looking a tad overconfident.” Sexy and mouthwatering as well, but she left those two words unsaid.
Clint was dressed in a tuxedo, looking every bit the handsome, arrogant man she had pegged him to be when she'd first met him. He resembled a wicked pirate with his goatee gracing his chin and his shoulder-length blond hair tied back. Her insides melted into a puddle of desire at the thought of having those bristles brush against her flesh. His lips were wide and appeared soft. She wanted to kiss him just to find out. And those sinful, dark brown eyes that seemed to caress her body as his gaze slowly traveled from head to toe. She grew wet beneath his stare, her cream dampening the thong she wore. What would he do if he saw how much she desired him?
Clint reached over and captured a few strands of her hair and brushed his thumb against them. A gasp escaped her lips, and her nipples hardened, pressing against the strapless beige dress she wore. She fought the quiver that started from within. She hoped to hell he hadn't noticed how his touch affected her. She had a feeling he'd use it to his advantage.
“It's as soft as I thought it would be,” he whispered, still watching her heatedly. “Now to feel it all over me.”
She managed to grab his wrist, and she was sure it was he who allowed her to pull him away from her. “Like I said, arrogant.”
He smiled. “Why can't it be simple, Brianne? A thank-you and a yes would have sufficed. Then we could have danced with your body pressed against mine, your nipples tight with arousal, and my cock pressed against your belly. It would have been pure heaven.”
God, but he was a sexy man, one she wouldn't mind sinking her teeth into. But she doubted a one-night stand would be enough. And that was one of the things she wasn't willing to risk with him. “Are you on the prowl tonight, Clint? Have all the other single ladies turned you down? Or did you simply think I needed your attention tonight?” She released his wrist; he then grabbed hers, and she gasped. He used his thumb to brush against her pulse point, and this time she did tremble. She'd never reacted to another man with such intensity. It made her nervous, and she fought the need to run and hide from her feelings and from him.
“There's only one woman I'm interested in, and I have my hands on her as we speak.”
Interested? She doubted that. She didn't need him to be polite, and even if he was attracted to her, she didn't want to be another notch on his belt. “Then you should remove your hands. I'm not one of your bimbos; I won't fall for such lines. Answer me this, though: did your supposed interest arise before or after you had your threesome with Jolie?” Shit! If I had a gun, I'd shoot myself with it
. That wasn't supposed to ever come out of her mouth. Jolie was going to kill her. But she'd happily risk death, because the look on Clint's face was priceless.
His mouth pressed into a thin line as he released her. But instead of walking away, he took a step closer. He was so close, she felt his body heat, and she fought the need to retreat. Perhaps mentioning the threesome was more of a mistake than she'd thought. Because he looked like a tiger ready to strike. And she had to still the urge to run from him. It was either fight the need to beg him to take her or pretend she didn't care.
“Jealous, Brianne? There's no need. I can easily call my brother and have him watch while I fuck you. Or better yet, he can even join us.”
! She swallowed, took a step back, and dropped her gaze to his cock. She could see the outline of his dick pressed against his pants, his shaft as hard as a hammer. She was 100 percent sure having sex with him would be nothing like she'd ever imagined. But double the pleasure? She wouldn't survive it. More importantly, this man would have the power to break her heart. She suspected he was not the type to hang around, and she wasn't keen on testing that theory.
Her mind flashed to a time when she had given her heart to a man who had crushed it so easily. It had been years since she'd thought of Brady Wielder, and even more years since he'd packed up his things and left her. Oh, he'd had the decency to leave her a note the night before they would have married. It was a time when her mother wasn't ill and her father had been alive. The wedding would have been a small backyard affair with a few friends and family attending. All of that had been swept away when Brady told her he didn't love her.
She tried to keep that part of her past buried, but deep down she knew she wasn't entirely successful. She was a twenty-eight-year-old woman who rarely had sex and indulged more often with her favorite vibrator. A psychiatrist would have a field day with her. She shook the memories off.
“Did you call, bro?”
She stiffened at the sound of another male voice. She was not going to turn around. Nope. She was going to stay here, facing Clint, and ignore the fact that the man behind her called Clint bro, which probably meant he had heard their conversation. And more importantly, she was going to play dumb and pretend she couldn't feel his heat just inches behind her. She was also going to disregard the fact that she was nearly sandwiched between the both of them, and that all they had to do was take a few steps closer to reach her.
Clint smiled, displaying an even row of gleaming white teeth. “I was just mentioning to Brianne the pleasures of a threesome. I issued an invite, but she has yet to respond.”
! She narrowed her eyes and stifled the need to wipe that smug look off his face. A hand landed on her shoulder, and shit, now she truly had to turn around. She couldn't ignore him completely. Okay, she could, but then she'd be staring at Clint the whole time, and she wasn't sure which would be worse in the lust department.
Inhaling a deep breath, she turned, forcing Clint's brother to remove his hand.
And too late she realized her mistake. He was equally as stunning as Clint.
“My name is Zack.” His voice was smooth. She swallowed, and she realized she couldn't stop staring at him. Zack reached out and traced her jaw with his finger. “You are one beautiful woman.” She quivered and forced her eyes to remain open when all she really wanted was to close them and lose herself in her desires.
Both men would top the list for the sexiest man alive category. Why oh why could Zach not look like a toad? Or at least have a wart somewhere on his face? Wasn't one exceedingly hot McIntyre enough?
There were facial similarities between Zack and Clint. Both had similar lips, with the bottom being slightly bigger than the top, and their noses were practically identical. But she noticed the differences quickly. Their jaws were both strong, but where Zack was clean-shaven, Clint had a goatee. And oddly enough, Zack's hair was black. She appreciated the distinctions, but it didn't lessen his attractiveness. Zack was just as handsome as his brother, and the thought of being pleasured by both was too much to handle.
Instead of rubbing her body against his and pleading to Clint and Zack to take her, Brianne gave into the instinct to run and headed straight for the bathroom.
* * *
“What has you so scared?”
She turned around and tried to control the racing of her heart. Clint leaned against the wall, his gaze roaming over her slowly. She shivered and struggled to get a hold of herself. She'd never expected him to come after her.
“I believe the men's room is right across the hall.” She was proud of the fact her voice was steady.
He smiled. “You know perfectly well it isn't the men's room I was looking for. I apologize for frightening you back there. It seems I may have pushed a little too hard.”
She swallowed. “Apology accepted.”
“Great. Now you can tell me why you ran.”
She wasn't going to do anything of the sort. “Where's your other half?”
He took one step toward her, then froze. “Zack? He's enjoying the reception. If you'd like, I can call him in here.”
He was teasing her. She heard it in the sound of his voice, but she couldn't handle both of them right now, let alone Clint. “In case you haven't noticed, there's only one ladies' room in this place. I'm surprised no one's come in yet. You should leave.”
He tilted his head. “I will in a second, but I want to make something clear to you. Whatever has you so afraid, you'll overcome it. Because you're a strong, beautiful woman, and you have the will to fight. Do that, and you'll find happiness in the simplest of pleasures.”
His words touched something in her, and her eyes began to water. With just a few words, he'd cracked the barrier around her heart. He walked closer to her, and before she could instinctively take a step back, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her still against him. He bent his head and then brushed his lips against hers. Clint pulled back slightly, then pressed his mouth to hers once more, and she opened up, allowing him to brush his tongue against hers. The kiss couldn't have lasted thirty seconds before he was pulling away from her. She watched, stunned, as he turned and left, and suddenly she was feeling more alone than ever.