Shame (Shameless) Page 4

  No. Lucia needed a nice guy, but someone more interesting than a records keeper.

  Okay, if he was going to give her the chance to send Brent packing by herself, he needed to wait somewhere other than the living room. If she caught sight of Noah first, and if she was carrying that Taser he'd given her for Christmas, he might end up as fried toast. He jogged down the hallway and turned left into her bedroom, gently closing the door behind himself.

  He hopped onto her bed, bouncing slightly and leaned back against the pillows. I’ve always loved how girly she is, he thought, enjoying the scent of her perfume in the room and looking around at the four-poster bed, the soft colors, and all the ruffled pillows. He also loved that when she completely lost her temper her curls went flying and her eyes snapped with anger.

  It was probably why he enjoyed pissing her off so much.

  Something caught his eye as he lay back against the pillows, readjusting them for his comfort. Her bottom drawer was open.

  Do not open it. Leave it be. She won't appreciate — Oh fuck it.

  He pulled it open and took out his phone, shining the flashlight directly inside.

  "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

  This is a date. You should be having fun.

  Lucia fixed her lipstick in the mirror at Benny's. She didn't need to use the bathroom. She was stalling. Stalling for time. Stalling for composure. Whatever. She wasn't sure what she was doing. Brent was really trying, but she was giving him a half-assed effort.

  It wasn't like he wasn't interesting. He was. Yeah, okay, maybe he had no edge. But, there was more to life than edge, right? The guy skydived for the love of God. She should be totally into this. He ran triathlons, so that meant a great body. In theory, anyway.

  Then why are you stalling? She swallowed hard.

  She fluffed her curls, gently winding a couple of the loose strands around her finger to give them more bounce. Next, she fixed a nonexistent smudge of her lipstick.

  Stop stalling. Go back to your date. He won't bite.

  Maybe if he did you'd be more into this.

  Stop it. Good Catholic girls don't want to be bitten.

  No, but fun Catholic girls do.

  What was wrong with her? He was cute. And God knew she needed a life. Hell, make that a sex life. It wasn't like she never had any other takers. She'd dated some. But no one who interested her in that deep primal way.

  Except for Noah.

  And go ahead and mark that under, Never. Going. To. Happen. Noah had been her brother's best friend. Noah fashioned himself responsible for her. Noah was also the biggest pain in the ass she'd ever met. He was always there, invading her life, her mind, her decisions — her family.

  She couldn't throw a stone without running into him or one of the men who worked for him. Ever since Rafe had died, he'd made himself her surrogate big brother. Problem was, as sexy as he was, most of the time she found it hard to look at him in a brotherly way.

  Not going to happen so she needed to get that out of her head.

  Besides, Brent was...great. He was the kind of guy she should want. He was the kind of guy she should be thinking about. Not some guy who was too sexy, too cocky, and too damn good-looking.

  Everything about Noah Blake screamed, Danger, Will Robinson, danger. He was the kind of guy that she didn't know how to handle. The kind of guy who wanted a woman who knew what she was doing. And she was not that woman.

  Forget about him. Focus on the guy who wants you. The guy sitting outside.

  With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. She could do this. She could play sexy vixen. For once, she didn't want to be the good girl. For once, she didn't want to be the one who was overlooked.

  She wanted to feel sexy. She wanted to be wanted.

  Lucia slid her gaze down to her purse and the manila envelope sticking out of the corner. Are you sure you want him? Or do you just want what he can give you? She shook her head. Yes, she'd agreed to go out with Brent, because well, he’d helped her. But he was good-looking. And interesting.

  Who are you trying to convince?

  Yes, she needed the information he'd gotten for her. If it would help her track down who owned that house, and eventually her brother's murderer, then she was going to take it. Because that was all she'd ever wanted. Some answers about what happened to Rafe. She deserved those answers. More importantly, her grandmother deserved those answers.

  Rafe had always looked out for her. And if something had ever happened to her, she’d known that he would tear the world apart looking for answers. And looking to make someone pay.

  But for the first time in a long time, she’d come to understand that she couldn't make Rafe her whole life. He'd been gone for six years. It was time to move on. The envelope could wait. Right now, she had a date and an ice cream waiting. Besides, Rafe wouldn't begrudge her a life. He may not be so thrilled about the kind of life she wanted, but he'd want her to be happy. And maybe Brent could give that to her.

  Not likely. He's not Noah.

  Dammit. She had to get Noah Blake off the brain. Lately it had gotten worse. She’d started to imagine heated glances from him. Whenever she was at his office, and she caught him looking at her, she would swear she saw...longing in his eyes. But that couldn't be right. Maybe more of an intensity? What the hell did she know?

  All she knew was every time she caught him looking at her like that, she thought about using one of those toys JJ got her as a gag gift. The ones in her bedside drawer that no one knew about. The same ones that she put in a shoebox under her bed every time the cleaning lady came by.

  She still flushed at the thought of the ridiculous party favor she’d gotten at that bachelorette party the prior month. The thing was insane. No one on earth was that big. It just wasn't possible. Though it wasn't like she had anything to go on.

  If you want something to go on, stop hiding in the bathroom and go on your date.

  Checking her appearance one more time, she forced a smile on her face. She was going to do this. She was going to go out there and have a good time and let Brent take her home. And then she was going to let him kiss her good night.

  And then, instead of overthinking this, she was going to see where it went.

  More resolute, she pushed open the door and grinned when she saw Brent standing there with two strawberry ice cream cones. He handed her one, and when some melted on her finger, he took her hand and gently licked it off.

  Oh god. She fought the immediate urge to snatch her hand back. Relax. He's trying to be cute. Not creepy.

  "Come on, let's head back," she said. They’d opted to park his car and just walk back to her place.

  As they walked and ate their ice cream, the balmy summer breeze lifting a few of her curls, he said "I'm glad you agreed to go out with me. Although you should know, I wasn't above begging."

  Lucia took another lick of her ice cream. "You're sweet."

  He shrugged. "Not that sweet. I've seen you walk by the Café on fourth before. You can imagine my surprise when you walked into my office. I had to take a shot and ask you out."

  Lucia wasn't used to quite so many compliments. Oh sure, at first guys were interested, but then something almost always happened to make them cool off. Most of her dates never went past date one. She was starting to think she was really bad at this. JJ said she just needed to date a few more frogs. Though, it seemed to Lucia that she’d had more than her fair share of them.

  In the five blocks it took to reach her apartment, Brent regaled her with stories of his last bungee jumping trip.

  "Okay, if I agree to go bungee jumping, where do you suggest I jump first?"

  His answer was instant. "Over the Zambezi River in Zimbabwe, hands down."

  She laughed. “Wait, I have to go all the way to Zimbabwe for my very first jump?"

  "There's nothing like it with Victoria Falls thundering behind you. It’ll be awesome."

  "Okay, maybe I’ll book that trip. But maybe, just maybe, we
could try something closer to home first. Maybe not as majestic, but still thrilling."

  They reached her apartment just as she finished the last bit of her cone. She shifted on her feet nervously. This was it. The moment she was waiting for. Do or die. Well okay, not do or die, but close.

  Brent stepped closer. "Thank you for agreeing to go out with me. And just so you know, I'm going to kiss you in a second. But first, I want to ask you out again. Don't worry we'll take it slow on the thrill rides. But I do want to see you. So what do you say…go out with me again?"

  No. "I'd like that."

  Despite everything in her body telling her that this was not the guy, she was deliberately ignoring it. He was nice. She couldn't wait for perfect. Sometimes nice and good-looking would just have to do.

  He leaned forward, shifting his hand to cup her cheek, and stroking it gently. When he dipped his head down, she had to force herself still. He gently brushed his lips over hers. His lips were firm but undemanding. As if he was waiting for her permission.

  He pulled back with a smile. "I'd like to be a gentleman and walk you upstairs if that's okay?"

  Upstairs? As in, inside her apartment? Her heart thundered but not from desire. More like pure unadulterated nerves.

  She could do this, right? Just because she didn't feel anything when he kissed her, it didn't mean anything. Maybe she just needed more time to get into it. This was the kind of guy that most girls would be drooling over. What was wrong with her?

  She took his hand and smiled up at him. "Come on up."

  The elevator ride was tense. Or maybe it was just tense to her because she had no idea what was going to happen. More kissing probably. But she had no idea how to do any of what came next. All she had to go on were a few heavy make out sessions. Mostly high school though.

  JJ kept telling her she needed to have a one-night stand to just drop the V card already. And that way, she’d be a lot less nervous about it. And maybe she was right. Brent seemed to actually like her, so he was far better than a one-night stand.

  Except, you're totally not into this.

  Okay, that was beside the point. When the elevator doors chimed, a shiver stole up her neck, making the fine hairs stand on end. With a wan smile, she led the way to her apartment, pausing at the door. There were those shivers again. Like an alarm. Like a warning. Maybe just nerves?

  "This is me." Turning the key, she let herself in and went to turn off the alarm, but it was already off.

  She frowned. Her brain mentally rewound the day’s events. She could see herself arming it. Or had she? Was her brain just replacing a memory from yesterday for today?

  She closed the door behind them. "Would you like a drink?"

  Brent shook his head. "No. All I want is you."

  This was the part where Lucia was supposed to feel the butterflies right? Every brush of his fingers was supposed to feel as if she had electricity coursing through it? This was the part where she moaned into his embrace, right?

  Except none of that was happening. Not even when he pulled her close, pressing their bodies together.

  This was ... Nice. Perfectly pleasant. Maybe even a little warm. Warm was good, right?

  Head in the game DeMarco.

  She started slowly, leading him back toward the bedroom. Maybe if she got him there she’d get more in the mood. She’d have all the nice-smelling girly things in there which hopefully would feel more romantic.

  He easily followed her lead. He made a moaning sound deep in his throat, and she only wished she wanted to make such a sound. A tiny annoying voice spoke up from deep in the recesses of her mind.

  Are you sure you want to do this? You want your first time to just be ... fine?

  No. She wanted hot. She wanted sexy. She wanted to tingle. She wanted to feel like a supermodel who'd found her accompanying rock star. But not everybody got a rock star. Sometimes nice was good.

  She opened the door to the bedroom, and he continued to kiss her. But the more his tongue slid into her mouth, licking inside, the more she wanted to turn her head. She drew back, angling her head away slightly. He took that to mean that she wanted him to kiss her neck. With a little groan, he slid his lips along her jaw, then the column of her throat. But she was having a hard time getting into the mood.

  All she kept thinking about was if she was doing this right. And God, she wanted to get out of her shoes. They were pinching her toes. And those growling noises he was making were actually kind of funny. When had she left her blinds open? While she was at it, she really needed to get some damn groceries.

  This is not what you're supposed to be thinking about. There was something wrong with her. He was a perfectly nice guy wanting to rock her world. And she was thinking about her damn blinds and groceries.

  I bet you wouldn't feel this way with Noah.

  And just like that, heat raced through her bloodstream and her breath caught. Just thinking about him was enough to make her skin tight and itchy. Those butterflies she’d been concerned about, there they were, fluttering rapidly inside, making something deep in her core pull tight.

  Still, Lucia fought it. There was no way she was going to think about Noah at a time like this. But, maybe that wasn't the end of the world. It was just a fantasy. Her brain latched on to what her body was craving. And the image of him in her mind formed and solidified.

  Suddenly, it wasn't Brent kissing her throat, it was Noah. But his lips weren’t quite as soft. They were firm. Sure. Knew exactly what he wanted and exactly how to get the right response from her.

  There was no thinking about anything else when she was with him. Only the sensation of being in his arms. The sensation of her heart hammering so fast it nearly beat out of her chest. The feeling she sometimes got when he looked at her and all her bones felt like jelly. That was how it was meant to be with Noah.

  A little dangerous. Definitely bad for you. But oh so good.

  Lucia slid her hands into Noah's hair, tugging a little. He muttered a soft curse against her throat, his hands holding her flush against him. Through his jeans she could feel the pulse of his erection against her center.

  Yes. This was much more like it.

  His kisses grew more frantic. His hands less patient. They skimmed over her hips with a strong grip. Before sliding his thumbs up over her belly and over her ribcage, just under her —

  “Okay, Romeo. I think that's enough."

  Lucia squeaked, then jumped away from Noah — err, Brent. Right Brent. Her date. Noah, the idiot, was on her bed.

  "Wha–What the hell are you doing here, Noah?"

  Noah lay back against her pillows. His feet were on her bed with his shoes on, she noticed with irritation. He looked comfortable. Completely relaxed, as if he belonged there. Wouldn't you like that?

  "Well, it looks like I'm just in time to interrupt."

  Brent stared between her and Noah, then back again. "I thought you said you didn't have a boyfriend."

  Lucia turned her attention to him and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "I don't. The intruder on my bed is my wannabe big brother. And he was just leaving."

  Noah shook his head. "No such luck, princess. You don’t know this dude from a can of paint. We had a deal. You let me check out anyone you want to go out with. You seem to have forgotten that."

  "We never had a deal. You just seem to think that you can dictate to me. You can’t!"

  Brent interjected. "I should probably be going."

  Lucia gripped his forearm harder. "No. Stay. Noah is going. Aren’t you Noah?"

  Noah grinned, his devilish smile bringing a mischievous twinkle to his eyes. Looking at the two of them in close proximity, Lucia could see clearly that there was no competition. Noah had dark sooty lashes that framed those intense whiskey-colored eyes, high cheekbones, a straight Roman nose, and full lips that tilted crookedly when he smiled. The man was gorgeous and he knew it. Which was a problem, because he often used it to get what he wanted.

  Brent, in co
mparison, also had dark hair, but not as dark as Noah's. It also didn't fall in disarray where some parts looked styled and other parts unkempt, but mostly looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. Or he'd rolled out of bed with someone. Brent’s eyes were a pale blue. Kind. He was cute in that boy-next-door, all-American kind of way. He didn't look like he belonged in a fashion magazine, not like Noah did.

  Feeling a little uncharitable for comparing Brent so unfavorably with Noah, she had to concede that he was at least tall. Not as tall as Noah, but few men could compare to Noah’s towering height. Besides it wasn’t about looks, or height, or charisma, anyway.

  Annoyed with herself, Lucia closed her eyes, hoping maybe this was all a bad dream, but when she opened them again he was still there. With Noah in the room, it was hard to breathe. He dominated everyone and sucked up all the air, silently pulling her towards him with his gravitational force alone. It was like poor Brent wasn't even there.

  "Now, Lucia, I know you'd like to think you're in charge right now. But you're not. You don't know this guy. And you invited him back to your place? I thought I taught you better than that."

  Brent tried to make an escape again. "Lucia, why don’t you deal with this guy? And we’ll try this again later."

  "No. You're not going anywhere."

  Noah pushed himself to a seated position on the edge of the bed. "Oh yes he is. Because you and I need to discuss what the hell this is for." He held up the party gift from the bachelorette party.

  Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

  In that moment, Lucia prayed to every saint her grandmother had ever forced her to pray to. Prayed to the Virgin Mary then to Jesus. Heck, for good measure she added Buddha in there too. Just in case. But nothing happened. The ground did not open and swallow her.

  Instead, she stood with her hand on Brent's arm, staring at Noah as he held up the largest purple dildo she'd ever seen in her life.

  Brent’s mouth fell open but no sound came out. As mortified as she was, Lucia couldn’t really blame him. The stupid thing was over a foot long, and thick. Really, really thick. Like thicker than a cucumber. She'd certainly never used the thing. It was a gag gift.