Edge (Gentry Boys #7) Page 10

  Red Beard chewed his donuts and watched me silently as I pawed through my purse. One glance at my phone told me two things; it was eight o’clock on Sunday morning and there were no new calls or texts.

  I tapped out a ‘Where are you?’ text to Emily.

  “Don’t worry,” the man said. “He’ll be back.”

  I slipped the phone into my back pocket. “What?”

  Red Beard folded his newspaper and studied me. There was that grin again; impeccable white teeth flashing beneath a mutinous beard. He might be a little handsome beneath all that wild hair and menacing muscle.

  “Con,” he explained. “Hustled out of here about twenty minutes ago but told me to keep an eye out in case you wandered out here.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Fuck if I know. Your boy’s not into explaining himself. Haven’t you figured that out yet? By the way my name’s Brian but only because my mother lost a bet. These days anyone who needs my attention calls me Kilt or they’re wasting their time.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  It wasn’t overly warm in here yet somehow I felt stifled. I needed either coffee or fresh air. A combination would be nice.

  Kilt separated his newspaper into two sections and tossed one on the coffee table. “There’s a pot of coffee back there on the counter, extra cups lying around somewhere. If you want to take a seat out here and wait around for Con I don’t mind. Feel free to change the channel.” He raised a bushy eyebrow. “Unless you prefer to hang out in my lap and share the newspaper?”

  I took a step back. “Uh, thanks for the offer. I think I’ll stick to coffee though.”

  “Ouch. I feel rejected,” Kilt laughed. He didn’t seem especially put out.

  “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “Your loss,” he said with a wink. “But I feel like I ought to mention that we’d make some mighty cute red-headed babies together if you ever change your mind.”

  It was an absurd line but I found myself smiling anyway. “If you say so.”

  Kilt returned to his donuts and I poured a cup of coffee into a mug with the Arizona Cardinals logo. “Hey, have you seen a girl around here?”

  “Girls?” He frowned. “They’re in and out of here all the time. You looking for one in particular?”

  “I was wondering about my friend. Emily.”

  “Nope, haven’t seen anything that looks like an Emily.”

  “She was here last night with one of Conway’s friends. You must know him too. Name’s Jackson.”

  Kilt snorted. “Thought I heard some pounding coming from somewhere. Don’t worry, kid. Jackson’s almost as much of a fine, upstanding gentleman as I am.”

  I sipped my coffee. “I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

  “Then you’re every bit as smart as you are beautiful.”

  “Nice of you to say.”

  He winked. “Still holding out hope for those red-headed babies.”

  This Kilt character had a gruff kind of charm and I didn’t mind the flirting. He obviously knew Conway pretty well and he seemed harmless enough.

  Speaking of Conway...

  The stairwell door opened and Conway busted through it, all abs and broad shoulders and tattooed sweaty skin.

  He noticed me with a nod. “Well, look who finally woke up.”

  It took me a few seconds to untie my tongue and force my eyes away from his muscled chest. I tossed my hair and cleared my throat, aiming for a nonchalant tone.

  “Usually I’m an early riser,” I said. “Apparently not as early as you though.”

  Conway yawned. “Actually I hate mornings. Just dashed out for a run to blow off some steam.”

  Kilt laughed from his armchair. “Since when do you run for fun, Con-man?”

  “Since always.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Wanna race?”

  “No.”

  Conway grinned. Then he jerked his head, motioning that I ought to follow him. He didn’t look back to see if I was coming. He just expected I would trail after him like a pet. He was right.

  “Sorry, I guess I left your room unlocked,” I said when he tried the handle.

  “It’s fine,” he shrugged. “I only locked it on my way out because I didn’t want to risk anyone busting in there and bothering you.” He arched an eyebrow and surveyed me. “You sleep like the dead you know.”

  “Not usually.”

  I tended to be a fitful sleeper, a periodic insomniac. I didn’t know how I’d been able to fall into such a deep rest in a strange bed.

  He held the door open for me and I stepped inside the room. I wished I’d made the bed earlier. The wrinkled sheets beckoned suggestively. I swallowed, remembering a few key moments from the night before.

  Conway didn’t seem like he was about to jump on me though. He wiped his face off with a stray t-shirt and headed for the bathroom.

  “About last night…” I started to say and then didn’t know how to continue.

  What about last night?

  It was nuts. And erotic. And tender.

  And despite the fact that I’ve known this guy’s name ever since I could remember I didn’t actually know him.

  So it was also foolish. And stupid.

  Conway tossed the t-shirt in a corner. “You like that movie too?”

  “What movie?”

  “About Last Night.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “The original or the remake?”

  “I didn’t know there was a remake so let’s chat about the original.”

  “Actually I love it. I make it a point to watch it at least several times year.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It’s part of my personal collection of classic eighties cinema.”

  “Funny. Every time I’m channel surfing at three a.m. it always seems to be on. That or St Elmo’s Fire.”

  I laughed. “Another one of my favorites.”

  Conway was watching me from across the room. “So what else are you a fan of, Roslyn? I mean besides the era of feathered bangs and stonewashed jeans.”

  I thought for a moment. “The ocean. I love the ocean.”

  “Like the beach?”

  “Yes. That tends to be where the ocean lives.”

  “Not a lot of those in Arizona,” Conway said and then headed into the bathroom. Two seconds later the shower blasted to life. He hadn’t closed the bathroom door.

  “Um, Conway?”

  He turned around, one thumb already hooked in the waistband of his shorts, as if he was on the verge of pulling them down. “What?”

  What?

  I should have answered with “I need to go,” or “Thanks for a strange, exciting and altogether confusing night,” but I just cleared my throat and said, “What are you doing?”

  He looked behind him. He turned back to me with a puzzled frown.

  “Taking a shower,” he said in a tone that implied I was an absolute idiot for not figuring that out.

  “Oh. Well. Okay.”

  He kicked his shoes off and pulled the shower curtain back. “You want in or what? I’ve got enough soap for the both of us.”

  “Thanks,” I said wryly. “You keep your soap to yourself. I’ll wait out here.”

  With the fire of lust melting my loins.

  “I was just kidding,” he called but I kind of doubted that. He still hadn’t closed the door when he pulled his shorts down. I averted my eyes, but not before I got a healthy glimpse of his tight, muscular backside. And damn it to hell, but my treacherous mind was fervently wishing he would turn around just for a second.

  “Jesus,” I mumbled, taking a seat on the bed because it was the only seat around.

  Conway whistled while he showered, a rather complicated tune I couldn’t place at the moment. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I exhaled with combined relief and exasperation when I saw who was calling.

  “Good morning,” greeted my sleepy, normally responsible roommate as she yawned, presumably somewhe
re in the bowels of the Hotel San Gabriel.

  “Em, are you here somewhere?”

  “Where?” She was confused.

  “The hotel.”

  “Sure.” Then she giggled as sheets rustled and a male voice murmured in the background. “Are you?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, I’m in a room.”

  She was instantly alert. “Really? Is there nudity involved?”

  “Emily!”

  “Sorry.” She whispered something to her companion and returned. “Roe, are you pissed at me? I swear I didn’t mean to ditch you last night but I thought you were getting along really well with Con and-“

  “It’s okay,” I cut her off because I didn’t want to talk about just how well I’d gotten along with the naked shower whistler. Baba O’Riley. That was the song. The shower was still going strong and it sounded like he was going to whistle his way through every freaking stanza.

  “Are you really okay?” Emily asked, a little sharper now, evidently snapping out of her post-coital fog.

  “I’m fabulous.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Sounds like you’re fabulous too. It’s just that I’m taking off in a little while and I wanted to make sure I wasn’t leaving you stranded.”

  More murmuring on the other end. Then Emily returned. “I’ll come with you,” she said firmly.

  “You don’t have to,” I said slowly, guiltily.

  “I’m coming. The universe is whispering in my ear that you need me.”

  “I don’t think that’s the universe whispering and I’m sure I can find my own way home.”

  “Just give me about ten minutes.” She giggled again. “Maybe fifteen.”

  Emily ended the call before I could ask how we’d find each other. As I tossed the phone into my purse I realized that the whistling had stopped and the shower wasn’t running anymore.

  Mercifully – or not – Conway had wrapped the Spider Man towel around his middle before exiting the shower. He shook water out of his short, dark hair and paused at the sink.

  I wracked my brain for something casual to say, something that would distract me from the mix of hope and fear that the towel would somehow slip off.

  I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “You dyed you hair.”

  He poked his head around the bathroom doorframe and looked at me, his gaze lingering on my legs, which were prudishly crossed at the ankle.

  “Some of it,” he answered with a smirk. “Some of it gets dyed and some of it gets shaved.”

  “Seriously?” I muttered, both irritated and turned on by the implications of that statement.

  “Seriously,” he said and strolled into the room, clad only in a superhero towel that appeared to be in imminent danger of slipping.

  Conway paused directly in front of me and idly scratched his belly. I couldn’t help but drink in every sip of that six pack. And even though there was something unseemly about remaining seated on the bed while he loomed over me half naked I stayed put, bending my head back to see his face. He continued to stare down at me thoughtfully.

  “I think this conversation might go to a weird place,” he said.

  I didn’t blink. “So far every conversation we’ve had has gone to a weird place.”

  He stroked his chin. “Fair enough. But if you’re searching for a reason behind my personal grooming choices, I was just trying to match my beard.”

  “You don’t have a beard.”

  “Not today. Every now and then I like to challenge Kilt to a facial hair competition.”

  “In that case I would put all my money on Kilt without hesitation.”

  He put his hand over his heart. “That hurt.”

  I giggled. “You take that much pride in your imaginary beard?”

  “Indeed.” Conway grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet. He studied me for a long moment. I studied him back. Then I withdrew my right hand from his grasp and tentatively touched his forehead, just below the hairline.

  “Looks like your roots are showing.”

  He grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. I’d noticed that he did that a lot, almost like a nervous habit, although on the whole Conway seemed about as nervous as your average shark.

  “I know,” he said. “I’ve got to take care of that before I go back to being as blonde as my brothers.”

  “Brothers plural? I didn’t know you had any other brothers besides Stone.”

  He didn’t flinch, but there was a flash of something in his eyes. Sadness? Surprise? If I hadn’t been looking into them so deeply I wouldn’t have even noticed.

  “I don’t,” he said smoothly.

  I was confused. Maybe he’d just been startled to hear me mention his brother’s name because it reminded him that I wasn’t just some random girl he’d picked up. But something told me that wasn’t the reason. Conway Gentry had secrets, and he wasn’t about to share them.

  Anyway, before I could formulate an answer he covered my mouth with his. I didn’t protest, not even a little. I melted against him, feeling his towel fall as swiftly as my defenses. His hand circled the back of my neck and fingers twisted into my hair, tugging ever so lightly. He knew what he was doing all right. I let out a half smothered moan and eagerly wrapped my arms around his shoulders, sucking his tongue and getting hotter by the second, expecting he would push me back onto the bed. I waited for it. And despite all the mixed up confusion about the past and the present it was exactly what I wanted.

  Conway’s other arm surrounded my waist, pulling me close enough to feel right through my clothes how hard he was. Instinct took over. My legs wrapped themselves around him, the ache inside of me reaching a crescendo that would have to be dealt with one way or another. Instead of easing me toward the bed though, he backed up and then walked me toward the wall until I felt its smooth solidity at my back.

  He pulled away and gave me a penetrating look. “You’re making this really hard.”

  My lips felt swollen, my insides were raging. I looked down. There was a lot to look at.

  “I can tell.”

  He didn’t laugh. He stroked my cheek and looked almost regretful for a second.

  “I promised myself,” he whispered as he unbuttoned my shorts. I relaxed my legs so that he would be able to undress me. The shorts slid to the floor.

  My fingers trembled as I unbuttoned my own shirt. Being so forward was unlike me, but then again I hadn’t been able to think straight since I saw Conway sitting at Jackson’s table last night. I didn’t really believe in fate and I didn’t know what he meant, what kind of promise had made and what’s more I didn’t care.

  “Break it,” I whispered back. “Whatever promise you made yourself, break it, Conway.”

  He sucked in a breath, let it out in a hiss. I could feel him, rock hard against my belly.

  “Oh, I’m fucking breaking it all right.”

  There was no good reason to talk about this anymore, no good reason to stop. Well, no good reason except logic. And unbridled lust will beat that sensible fucker back almost every time.

  From the look in Conway’s eyes I could tell which side had won this round. My shirt fell. My bra was unhooked.

  Then three sharp knocks on the door almost startling me into screaming.

  “Roslyn, are you in there?”

  More knocking. Emily had chosen a very unfortunate time to emerge from her Jacksonian trance.

  “Roslyn!”

  I closed my eyes. Conway’s tongue slid into my mouth and his hand dove between my legs. One finger slipped inside of me. My hand eagerly closed around the solid muscle at the center of this mania and Conway’s lusty answering groan became my lord and master.

  “Jackson, you sure this is the right room?” Emily’s loud voice floated over, probably only ten feet away distance-wise, but it might as well have been located in another solar system for all the impact it had on me.

  “Babe, of course I’m sure.” Jackson sounded amused.


  “Where is she then? You think she left already?”

  I heard Jackson’s chuckle. “No.”

  It happened fast, so fast. I didn’t even notice how or when my panties had been abandoned. I just knew they were no longer there. I knew my legs were once more around his waist and this time there were no barriers in our way.

  I knew the wall at my back was the only solid thing on earth.

  I knew that with a grunt and a hard push Conway was buried deep inside of me but not deep enough. No, it would never be deep enough no matter how completely I gave in. There was something frighteningly powerful about this physical connection. I couldn’t imagine that I would ever get my fill of him as I strained and bucked, clutched and moaned in a frenzy while the world abruptly broke into ten thousand brilliant colors that were too intense to name.

  Conway came right after I did, shuddering and unleashing himself inside of me in a way that no one ever had before because no coupling had ever been like this, so furious and instinctive. Common sense was the enemy here. I quieted the distant alarm bells as I welcomed him with a shriek that was scarcely muzzled by sucking on the smooth skin of his right shoulder.

  Emily was no longer pounding on the door. Or maybe she was, but I found it impossible to concentrate on anything but this intense connection. I sighed as he slipped away from me. He pressed his forehead to mine as we held each other up and panted from the aftershocks.

  “Dammit,” was the word I thought he whispered under his breath but I didn’t have time to think about that because he hurriedly crossed the room, pulled clothes out of a battered old wardrobe and dressed with his head down.

  Slowly I put myself back together. Conway didn’t look up until I had my clothes back on and when he did there was confusion and maybe even a little bit of pain in his eyes. He watched me as I smoothed my hair, hoping that I wasn’t shaking as much on the outside as I was on the inside.

  In all my sheltered, well-planned twenty-three years, the last ten minutes had been the most careless ones I’d ever lived.

  “I need to go,” I said.

  It wasn’t what I really wanted. It was just what I needed to do. What I wanted was for him to ask me to stay like he had last night when we wrapped our arms around each other all through the dark hours.

  This wasn’t last night though. This was the stark light of day and a part of my mind was already panicking.