Picture This (Bryant Brothers Book 4) Page 17

  She stared at him. Her eyes were probably the size of saucers.

  “We’d be a great team,” he continued, hastily. “I can practically see it.”

  “That’s a fantastic idea.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded relieved.

  “Only one requirement, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No no-fraternizing policies.”

  He laughed and kissed her. “You got it. Now, take off your shirt.”

  “Ohhh…” Her heartrate kicked up, this time for a whole different reason as she hurried to comply. “Now what would you like?”

  His grin was wicked. “Your bra. Take it off.”

  She thrust her chest out as she reached behind her to unclasp the article of clothing and then slide the straps down her arms.

  “Cup your breasts,” he commanded, sending a shiver slithering through her body. She had no idea she’d love being bossed around during sex, but Lord above, his demanding tone, laced with lust, was enough to cause her to combust even without penetration.

  She lifted her hands and wrapped them around the underside of her boobs. He wiggled one finger and she leaned closer, until he sucked her right breast into his mouth while using his hands on her hips to grind her against his erection. After a few moments’ attention that left her squirming and panting, he nibbled his way from that nipple, dipping into her cleavage and across so that he could pay an equal amount of attention to her left breast. She whimpered and shifted on his lap, his fingers digging into her skin, until he finally pulled away, gasping for breath.

  “I need you,” he rasped. “I need to be connected with you.”

  “Me too,” she whispered.

  He flipped her gently onto her back and made quick work of getting the rest of their clothes out of the way, and then he produced a condom, which he handed to her. Elliot rolled onto his back and crossed his arms behind his head, as if he were relaxed and not in the least strung as tightly as a guitar string.

  Hmm, she needed to do something about that.

  Mindful of her injured knee, she knelt between his legs and tore open the condom wrapper. Instead of putting the protective covering over his erection, she leaned forward and took him into her mouth. His body bowed and he hissed out a breath as he tugged his hands out from behind his head and threaded his fingers in her hair. She chuckled, knowing full well the vibrations would only enhance the sensation for him.

  He sank back against the bedding, his hands still in her hair, gently squeezing occasionally, as she licked and suckled him while stroking his balls, until he abruptly grasped her shoulder and pushed her away.

  “So damn amazing.” His chest rose and fell rapidly. “I want more, so much more. But I need this.”

  He rolled her onto her back, one hand pressed into the comforter while he slid the other one up her leg until he was squeezing her ass, and then he pushed into her, staring into her eyes and practically growling as he filled her.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice breathy, but she gasped when he pulled out without warning.

  Sitting back on his heels, he grabbed the condom she’d dropped on the bed and quickly sheathed himself before pressing into her again. “Sorry,” he said through gritted teeth as he continued to pump at a steady pace that was sending her climbing higher and higher toward nirvana.

  “It’s okay. Just don’t stop again. Not yet. Not yet. Not…”

  “Yes,” Elliot shouted, the tendons straining in his neck. “Now. Come for me, Amelia!”

  Oh, she was more than happy to comply with his demand.

  ***

  As they lay side by side, sipping wine and basking in the afterglow, the doorbell rang. A scant second later, Amelia’s phone started vibrating. Elliot reached over, dug it out of her purse, and handed it to her. She read the message on the screen:

  Answer the door. I want to say goodbye before I leave.

  Amelia turned her head to give Elliot a questioning look. He was lying next to her, reading it as well. “Do you think it’s a ploy?”

  Elliot frowned. “I don’t think so. I mean, he won, right? So where’s he going?”

  Amelia sighed and sat up. “I guess we should go find out.”

  When she opened the door a few minutes later, Duane stood on the threshold, a frown on his face. Other than his hulking body, which had come from their mother’s side, he was the perfect combination of their two parents; the rest of his features were gentle like Mom’s while his mouth was severe, just like their father’s.

  His gaze swept over Amelia and Elliot, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus, is that all you two ever do?”

  Amelia glanced over her shoulder at Elliot, whose cheeks went dusky red.

  “I may have implied that we were, um, indisposed together the last two times he showed up.”

  Amelia tried to keep her lips from twitching but completely failed, at least for a few seconds. But then she, too, frowned. “What are you doing here, Duane?”

  “Like my text said, I wanted to say goodbye. I hate that we haven’t spent any time together since I’ve been back.”

  “We’ve both been busy.”

  “You’ve been busy. I’ve been trying to figure out whether I should move back home. Congratulations, by the way, on having the biggest balls of the family.”

  “Erm, thanks?”

  He waved at the open door. “Can I come in for a bit? I don’t have to be at the airport for another hour.”

  She and Elliot moved out of the way so he could step into the house. “Wait, you really are leaving? Where are you going?”

  “Back to Europe. Greece, specifically. Love the southern part of that country.”

  She stared until Elliot nudged her, and then she said, “Do you want to sit? Do you want something to drink?”

  “We have an open bottle of rosé,” Elliot added, and she had to swallow a snicker.

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Duane said.

  “You two go outside and have a seat, I’ll grab the wine,” Elliot said. She started to limp toward the patio; Duane wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her along.

  “What happened?” he asked after they’d seated themselves on the two chase lounges.

  “Oh, on Monday, when you showed up at the office, I thought you were going to try to bully me into giving up my position, so I jumped out of my seat and slammed my knee into the underside of my desk.”

  He winced. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. It’s a bone contusion. Ever heard of that?”

  “No, but it sounds painful.” He glanced at the door leading into the house. “This guy treating you all right?”

  She smiled. “He is, actually. More than. He’s pretty amazing.”

  “Nothing like Mom and Dad, I hope.”

  “Not at all,” she assured him. “In fact, he thinks I deserve to keep the job purely based on my track record. My sex wasn’t even a factor.”

  “Yeah, right,” he drawled, which made her gasp and swat at his arm.

  But then she paused. “Is this weird?”

  “What? The fact that I know how many times you’ve had sex in the last three days? Yes, it is.”

  She shook her head. “No. I mean us, talking. Teasing. Getting along.”

  “Why do you think that’s weird?”

  “Duane, beyond merry Christmas and happy birthday texts, we haven’t spoken in five years. I thought you’d returned to steal my position at the company. I don’t even understand what’s going on right now.”

  He looked at his folded hands. “I could really use that drink your boyfriend promised.”

  As if he’d been hovering just inside the door, Elliot suddenly appeared, carrying the bottle of wine in a chiller and three glasses. He passed out the glasses, placed the bottle on the small table between the two lounge chairs, and poured wine for each of them.

  “I’m going to head back inside,” he said, pointing over his shoulder.

  Amelia reached out and snagged his hand, gently tuggi
ng, trying to get him to sit on the edge of her chair. “You don’t have to. I’d like you to stay.”

  He glanced at Duane and sat next to her bad knee.

  Duane took a couple of gulps of wine and then blurted, “I needed to cut off all contact for my own sanity.”

  Amelia waited for him to say more, but he stared at the pale liquid in his glass like he was in a trance.

  “I don’t understand,” she finally said.

  He blew out a breath. “I even had to cut off contact with you, which killed me. But all those years of Dad relentlessly trying to push me into that company, despite me telling him over and over again that I didn’t want to do it…and then Mom dying, and realizing that Dad didn’t love us and the only reason we were even in existence was because Mom wanted kids…it really messed me up.

  “Therapy was helping, once I finally started going, but eventually I hit a brick wall and couldn’t seem to get any further in my recovery. My therapist suggested I physically distance myself from the trigger, which was both Dad and the company, and you, too, a little bit.”

  “Me? But I didn’t—”

  He lifted his hand to cut her off. “Not on purpose. But as much as I wanted nothing to do with Gerard Glass, you wanted everything to do with it, and every time I told Dad he should be training you instead of me and every time he said, ‘A girl can’t run a company like this,’ it was…I was so afraid that I would become like him despite my best intentions. So when my therapist suggested that, I took her literally and moved to Europe.

  “I told myself I’d give myself one month of no contact at all just to breathe, to get myself oriented. And I started feeling better. More confident. Healthy. No more panic attacks.”

  Amelia gasped. She’d had no idea her brother was going through so many struggles. Elliot covered her hand, twined his fingers with hers.

  Duane shrugged. “So I kept doing what I was doing. Ignored Dad’s calls—and he called a lot in the beginning. I almost changed my number, but I wanted to make sure you had a way to reach me in the event of an emergency.”

  “Why are you back now?”

  He shifted his gaze, staring out at the flowers and lawn. “I missed you. And I thought, maybe, after five years, Dad might have changed. I Googled, found out how well you’ve been running the company—great job, by the way—and I thought maybe…maybe I could come home and we could have a relationship again. All of us.”

  “Oh, Duane.” She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, but he hasn’t changed.”

  He nodded. “I know. He started triggering me almost immediately, so I knew I couldn’t stay. But I wanted to talk to you, maybe hang out a little. I’ve been afraid to reach out to you and afraid to leave again for like a week and a half now.” He chuckled darkly.

  “Oh God, Duane, I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault. You’re as much a victim as I am.”

  “I almost became him. For the last week, I thought you were going to steal away my position in the company, so I’ve been fighting to keep it, thinking that was what I needed to be happy. And I almost gave up what I have with Elliot because of it.”

  “But you didn’t. You walked away. You’re nothing like him.”

  “Neither of us are, thank God.”

  She tugged on Elliot’s sleeve. “Help me stand, please.”

  He did, asking why as he lifted her to her feet.

  “I want to hug my brother properly.” She opened her arms, and, with a laugh, Duane hopped out of his chair and enveloped her, lifting her off her feet like he used to when they were younger. When they pulled apart, his eyes were as glassy as hers probably were.

  “So what happens now?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m definitely going back. Greece feels more like home to me anyway, these days. And there’s a girl…she’s really amazing. I’d love for you to meet her someday.”

  “I’d like that.” She glanced at Elliot. “We’ve decided to go into business together, but maybe, before we really get things ramped up, we can take a trip, come spend some time with you.”

  “That would be great.” He paused. “Do you think it’ll be okay? The other employees, I mean.”

  She nodded. “He may be a lousy father, but he’s good at hiring solid, competent employees. The company will be fine. It just won’t be run by a Gerard. Unless…”

  Duane and Elliot both arched their brows.

  “He’s having an affair with Chelsea,” she explained for her brother’s benefit.

  “No shit?”

  Amelia nodded. “I’m going to call him. I’m going to act like a corporate executive one more time before I close this chapter.”

  “What are you planning?” Duane asked.

  “I’m going to threaten to tell the board about his affair. He won’t want the scandal, of course. And then I’m going to suggest he decide what he really wants out of that affair. If he’s truly determined that a Gerard be in charge, he could marry Chelsea and give my position to her. She’d be great at it.”

  “As long as she’s fully aware of what she’s getting into by marrying him, I think Chelsea could handle it. If she wanted to, of course,” Elliot said.

  “I’ll call her first. Lay it all out there for her. Let her make the decision before calling him.”

  “In a sick and twisted way, that could actually work,” Elliot noted.

  “Enough about that place,” Duane said, waving his hand like he was brushing away the topic. “Tell me about this business you plan to start.”

  Amelia smiled and sat back down and laced her fingers with Elliot’s again. “Well, my sweet and wonderful boyfriend here happens to be an amazing photographer, and I happen to love PR, so we were thinking…”

  EPILOGUE – 9 MONTHS LATER

  “Honey, are you okay?”

  Elliot stopped jogging when he noticed Amelia had bent at the waist, her hands pressed to her knees while she gulped air.

  “Are you nauseous?”

  She shook her head. “No. I just don’t have the stamina I used to have.”

  He rubbed her lower back. “You’ll get it back. Come on, let’s go inside and take a shower. We need to get over to Tommy and Camila’s. I promised I’d help with dinner prep.”

  Just as Amelia had suggested, she and Elliot had taken a trip to Greece, had stayed for a month so that she and Duane could rebuild their relationship. Then Amelia and Elliot impulsively had a quiet wedding ceremony on the beach, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea—a decision his mother had been furious about until he’d explained Amelia and Duane’s past.

  They’d finally come home in August so they could begin their lives together.

  Their PR and photography business had taken on a single client: Rogers Speedway. Tommy’s PR manager had abruptly quit just before the end of the season, and he’d begged Amelia to step in and fill her shoes. Amelia, of course, insisted she and Elliot were a package deal, which had delighted Tommy, who apparently never understood why Elliot had not gone into photography as a profession sooner.

  So they sold Amelia’s condo and moved closer to the track, which was convenient for family gatherings, which happened a lot in the Bryant family. Especially now that there were two grandchildren to dote on.

  They showered, together of course. Conserved water that way. Although anytime Elliot was able to get his hottie of a wife naked, he got distracted by her body, which led to a shower that took a lot longer than simply getting clean.

  But they sure were happy when they were done.

  They made the short drive to Tommy and Camila’s house. That was where everyone was gathering for Easter dinner. As they headed up to the front porch, Amelia asked, “Next year, do you think Samantha will be old enough for an Easter egg hunt?”

  Elliot shrugged. “Maybe. She’ll be almost two, right?”

  Another vehicle pulled up, and they paused to see who else had arrived early for Easter dinner.

  “It’s Maecie and Philip and your
parents with the baby,” Amelia said, grinning as she backtracked and headed down the front walk. His parents had driven over yesterday and insisted on staying with Maecie and Philip so they could get in one-on-one time with the latest grandchild.

  Elliot stayed behind her so she could get in her hugs first, and then he got his fair share before they both cooed over the two-month-old baby sleeping in her carrier.

  “I just fed her,” Maecie said, “so we have about four hours reprieve.”

  “Has it been hard?” Amelia asked, taking the carrier so the new parents could grab the myriad other items necessary for an afternoon spent away from home with a newborn.

  “It’s definitely an adjustment getting used to not sleeping,” Maecie said with a laugh. “But it’s been pretty amazing too.”

  Elliot squeezed Amelia’s shoulder, and the four of them headed toward the house.

  “Hey,” Tommy said, greeting them at the door, little Samantha on his hip. As soon as she saw her grandma, the nine-month-old squealed and reached for her.

  “Oh, come here, you sweet angel,” Mom cooed as she took the little girl into her arms.

  “I knew Elliot and Amelia were coming early, but I didn’t realize you guys were too,” Tommy noted as he stepped to the side so the crew could get in out of the cold.

  “I just finished feeding Willow, so we decided to head over. Figured it would be easier if we were already here and settled the next time she needs to be fed,” Maecie explained.

  “Cool,” Tommy replied. “You can take all her stuff up to Samantha’s room, if you want. There’s a rocking chair and soothing music and all that stuff Camila uses when she’s nursing.”

  “Thanks,” Maecie said, and she and Philip headed that way.

  Elliot had just gotten settled at the counter between his mom and Camila and was chopping vegetables for the salad when there was a commotion at the front door. “Hey, you guys are early too,” he heard Tommy say.

  A short time later, Kyle, Maddy, and Grandma Bryant were crowding into the kitchen. Amelia and Dad were seated at the counter, and they both stood and headed over for hugs while the three chefs wiped off their hands and did the same.