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Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6) Page 14
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That was exactly why he used a broker to invest his money, even though he told Kramer otherwise. All that stock market jargon made his brain hurt.
But he stood there listening with feigned interest, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t scream, until finally the women coming back out with items to set the table in their hands distracted Kramer, causing him to switch topics when he asked the women about their day.
Thank fuck.
His relief was short-lived because then he had to hear about shopping, shoes, accessories and outfits for another ball-shriveling twenty minutes.
Fuck. How the fuck did people survive that “domestic bliss” shit?
His cheeks started to cramp from keeping a smile plastered on his face and faking his interest. He’d rather be treading water for thirty minutes in full gear and frigid, rough surf than take part in all the mindless chatter. But he needed an opportunity to get inside the house unescorted. That was the whole point of this fake friendship in the first place.
When Kramer began to put the grilled burgers on a platter, the women went back inside and the two men settled at the table in blessed, companionable silence, sipping the fresh beer Barb had brought them minutes earlier.
Brick sat where he could watch both the women coming out of the house and Kramer at the same time. As the two women carried out the dishes of food, out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed Kramer raking his gaze over Londyn, pausing on her feet, then giving Barb an innocent smile as she approached the table.
Fucker.
Brick hadn’t paid much attention to what Londyn had been wearing when she left the house this morning, but he realized she wore those red heels she had worn when he first met her in Shadow Valley.
Those fucking heels.
He was going to make her keep those on tonight.
He was also going to make her get totally naked except for those, and then he would slip them off her feet one at a time, licking from her toes all the way up to her wet, slick pussy.
Brick shifted in his chair, his hand diving below the table to adjust his sudden semi-erection. Which quickly deflated when her heel got caught on the edge of a deck board and she almost fell forward.
Before Brick could scramble from his seat to catch her, Kramer’s arm shot out and he caught Londyn, keeping her upright.
“That was a close one.” Londyn laughed, still hanging onto the bowl of macaroni salad.
As her eyes tipped down to where Kramer’s hand still held onto her tightly, her face changed and Brick dropped his gaze to where she was staring.
A bit of mayonnaise dotted Kramer’s forearm.
“I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, glancing around. “I don’t have a napkin.”
Their eyes lifted from the spot on Kramer’s arm to each other. He seared her with a don’t-you-dare glare.
She smiled. A real one this time.
Fuck me.
He narrowed his eyes even more and shot daggers at her.
“Not a problem. I have a napkin,” Kramer announced quickly with a stilted chuckle, letting her go to grab it and clean off his arm.
Brick finally breathed. When Londyn settled in the chair next to him, he leaned over, pretending to give her a kiss at her temple, but instead whispered in her ear, “Those fucking heels will be the only thing you’ll be wearing later.”
Her lips twitched as she placed her mouth to his ear, pretending to return the kiss. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Twelve
The evening couldn’t end soon enough so they could get down to some real business. However, the whole plan tonight was to get a chance to explore some of the house to at least learn the layout.
His attention was pulled from the woman, whose lips had done some amazing things to him, to Barb when he caught the woman rubbing at her temples and wincing.
Fuck. That meant Barb was probably getting one of her migraines and would be heading inside soon. That also meant it might screw up Brick’s plan.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“Are you okay, Barb?”
She gave Londyn an apologetic, but pained, look. “Seems like the day is catching up to me.”
“Migraine?”
Barb squinted as if the light was causing her discomfort. “Yes, I’m sorry to cut the evening short again. I’m going to go upstairs, climb into bed and take a pill.”
Londyn and Brick exchanged looks and he slightly tipped his head, hoping she would read into the gesture that the plan would continue. He’d just need to work around that hitch.
Kramer helped Barb from her chair, and she gave him a quick kiss before going inside with a last “goodnight,” leaving just the three of them.
Hopefully, Barb would go directly upstairs and her migraine was debilitating enough she’d stay in bed and wouldn’t catch Brick sneaking around their house.
He snuck a glance at his watch. It was getting late and he needed to do something soon. With Barb done for the night, there wasn’t a good reason for the two of them to remain at their house. Especially if Kramer decided to bring the evening to an early end.
As soon as Kramer went inside to grab another round of beers, Brick leaned over to Londyn and whispered, “Keep him entertained while I go snoop. If he wants to go inside, stall as best as you can.”
As soon as Kramer returned, Brick quickly rose from his seat by the pool, where they had migrated after dinner. He pressed a hand to his stomach with a frown. “Excuse me while I use your facilities. You don’t mind keeping my muffin company, do you, Chris?”
The man gave Brick a predatory smile that he wanted to smack off his face. “Not at all.”
Of course he didn’t. It took everything Brick had to go inside and leave Londyn alone with him.
He moved quickly through the house, sticking to the first floor since it seemed Barb had done what she’d said and went upstairs. At the rear of the house, he found a room that appeared to be Kramer’s office. Brick rifled carefully through the paperwork strewn across the large wooden desk and turned on the computer only to find it password protected.
If he got a chance he’d come back and get Walker on the phone to see if they could hack into it. But for now, he didn’t have the time. Tonight was simply for recon.
He pulled each desk drawer out, finding typical office-like things. Nothing suspicious. In fact, all very boring, normal stuff.
In one corner of the room, a large four-drawer file cabinet was unlocked and included normal files for a household and someone who played the market, like utility bills along with tax returns and other business type papers. However, a smaller file cabinet sat next to that one. And, curiously, both drawers were locked.
He went to the closet next, hoping to come across a set of keys hidden inside. While he didn’t find any, he did find a safe. Which meant important paperwork could be held in there. More than the typical birth certificates, car titles and property deeds.
Damn. He had no experience at cracking safes, nor did the rest of the Shadows.
Before closing the closet door, he spotted something propped in the back corner. It looked like a Mossberg 500, a shotgun used for home defense. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was loaded, but there was no way he was checking and getting his fingerprints on it.
He closed the door and twisted his head to stare at the smaller locked file cabinet again. The keys had to be somewhere in the office. He doubted Kramer carried them on his person and if he was like a typical homeowner, he’d hide them nearby out of convenience.
However, Brick really didn’t want to spend too much time looking. While he had confidence Londyn was doing her best to keep him busy, he didn’t want Kramer getting concerned with him being gone too long and have him come searching.
His eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on a cabinet with glass doors that held books. He checked a few of them and it didn’t take long to find one of those hollow ones, good for stashing shit.
And, thank fuck, inside that book were
a set of smaller keys that would fit a desk drawer or a file cabinet. He blew out a breath of relief when they fit the cabinet lock.
He yanked the top drawer open and stared at a compact handgun. He didn’t recognize the manufacturer and he certainly wasn’t touching that gun, either, but from the open box of ammo next to it, it appeared to be a .40 caliber. There were also a couple boxes of double-aught buckshot for the Mossberg.
While it was good to be aware the man had a gun, owning one wasn’t uncommon. And keeping it locked up—at least the handgun—was smart. However, that wasn’t what he was looking for since Teresa wasn’t killed by a bullet.
He quietly closed the top drawer and opened the one underneath it. More file folders. Only a few of them were marked. He thumbed through the ones that weren’t.
And just as he suspected, Kramer had copies of Teresa’s life insurance policies along with copies of the correspondence about the payout and more. However, having them didn’t prove guilt.
In another folder, Brick found Kramer’s current policy on himself which was for a measly—compared to Teresa’s—two hundred grand in coverage. When he looked at the start date for the policy, he compared it to Teresa’s. Same time. However, the beneficiary had been changed to Barb after his wife’s death. In fact, not long after.
He lifted his head and listened for voices or footsteps. Nothing.
So far, so good.
He pulled out another folder and found something interesting but not unexpected. Two more policies, also taken out after Teresa’s death, but these were on Barb. And fucking lo and behold, were they not for a million each, too.
What. The. Fuck.
Was the man crazy enough to try to pull the same stunt again? To murder his current woman just to cash in?
Nobody was stupid enough to take that risk, were they? Unless, again, money was more important than life. But how would Kramer spin it the second time?
It was time he and Londyn left, and now that he knew where Kramer’s office was, he’d have to figure out another time to break in to search through paperwork much more slowly. Along with hacking into that computer.
He locked the cabinet back up, returned the key to its hiding spot and on his way past the guest bathroom, he quickly went in, flushed the toilet and ran the water, before heading back to join Kramer and Londyn outside.
But as he approached the kitchen, he heard low voices. Kramer must have come inside and Londyn followed to distract him.
Thank fuck.
But his head just about exploded when he heard Kramer practically purr, “I can’t eat prime rib every night. But once in a while I like to sink my teeth into a nice fatty cut of meat.”
What the fuck? Nobody was eating her meat except for him.
He waited to hear Kramer cry out when Londyn kneed him in the nuts for calling her a fatty cut of meat, but he only heard her giggle.
Giggle.
What angle was she playing?
A dangerous one, that was what.
It was one thing to have Kramer caught on her hook, it was another to encourage him for more.
He relaxed the muscles in his jaw, which had been popping, and stepped around the corner into the kitchen, where he paused.
Londyn, pressed against the sink, had her hands in soapy water and Kramer had her caged in.
His dick wasn’t pushed into her back, but it was damn well close enough.
Son of a bitch.
She had her head turned to look at Kramer over her shoulder and she was smiling—not telling him to go pound sand—until she spotted Brick. “Oh, hey, honey! Chris is just giving me a hand.”
Sure, he was giving her a fucking hand.
Kramer moved back quickly, his eyes becoming wary as he turned toward Brick. “Gertie was kind enough to help me clean up since Barb is down for the night.”
Londyn nodded. “I didn’t want her to come down in the morning and have to face this mess.”
Right. Barb probably wouldn’t want to face the “mess” of her man trapping Brick’s wife against the counter, either.
Fuck. Seamus’s wife.
Brick sucked oxygen through his nostrils and once he was capable of keeping his voice at an even level, he choked out, “That’s my muffin. Always so helpful.”
Kramer’s gaze slid from Londyn to Brick. The fucker didn’t even have the decency to act embarrassed for getting caught hitting on Brick’s wife.
Seamus’s wife.
Goddamn it.
“I’ll head out to clean up the grill and grab more trash. Will you be all right?”
Would she be all right?
Maybe right now Kramer should be worried about if he would be all right.
Londyn patted Kramer’s chest, giving him a small smile, and said, “I’ll be fine.”
With that, Kramer gave Brick a little nod and headed back out onto the deck. But from where he stood by the grill, he could see into the kitchen and Brick did not miss the fact Kramer was watching them with interest.
Whether the man was afraid of Brick punishing Londyn or whether he was excited about that prospect and wanted to watch, Brick didn’t give a shit.
What he did give a shit about was Kramer putting his hands on Londyn.
Instead of approaching her, he said, “Muffin, I think you need to go to the bathroom.” Londyn went stock still for a moment and when she lifted her eyebrows, he said under his breath, “He’s watching.”
Shaking her head, she slowly wiped her hands off with a dishtowel and whispered back, “Then you better come get me.”
He took long, determined strides across the kitchen, his jaw tight, his nostrils flared, playing the part of a pissed off husband.
The only problem was, it wasn’t all acting.
Snagging her wrist, he dragged her out of the kitchen into the hallway and pinned her against the wall, his chest to hers, holding her wrists restrained within his hands.
“You wanted me to distract him so that you could do what you needed to do. You were taking forever.”
A growl rose up Brick’s throat and he got in her face. “He can look. He can hope. He can even fantasize. But what he cannot do is fucking touch.”
Her blue eyes widened and then her eyelids got heavy and a smile curled her parted lips. Her warm breath mingled with his when she breathed, “You just made me wet.”
“Was it me or Kramer?”
“It was you going all growly. All ‘Me, caveman,’ ‘you, woman.’ That was so hot.”
The anger rushed out and the desire to fuck her against that wall, right there in Kramer’s house with the risk of the man catching them, rushed in.
“How wet?” he murmured against her lips. Taking both of her wrists into one hand, he pressed them against the wall above her head and skimmed his knuckles over one, then the other, of her peaked nipples before going lower.
Keeping their gazes locked, he thumbed open the button on her skirt and slid the zipper down enough to slip his hand inside. She had not only worn the skirt he’d insisted on, but she hadn’t worn any panties.
Just. Like. He. Had. Told. Her.
He never expected her to go all day without them, never expected for her to listen to that demand since it had been part of their acting.
But she did.
And now, her breathing became ragged as the tip of his finger found her clit and circled it. Then he took her mouth to capture her groan as he slid his middle finger inside of her.
Fuck yes, she wasn’t lying. She was wet as fuck.
Their kissing became frantic as Londyn began to buck against the wall, riding his finger as he pressed his thumb against her clit.
It didn’t take minutes. It took seconds. For her to explode. For him to feel her heat pulsing around him. For him to muffle her cry within his mouth.
When she settled back against the wall, he cautiously broke the seal of their lips and slowly slipped his hand from her skirt. Before he released her wrists, he raised his hand and slid his middle finger into
his mouth, sucking it clean.
When he was done, he leaned close, growling against her ear, “He can never have that. That’s mine.”
Her body twitched against him and he released her before he took it further. “We’ll say our goodbyes and then we’re heading home. No delays, no excuses. And when we hit that door, you go right upstairs, and take everything off except for those heels, get on the bed and you wait for me.”
When her legs wobbled, he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her to him. “Need me to help you?”
She nodded and breathed a shaky, “Yes.”
Brick let his grin grow as he helped her fasten her skirt and escorted Londyn back out to the deck to let Kramer know they were leaving.
With one arm wrapped around Londyn’s waist, he extended his hand and Kramer shook it.
Then he took his woman home.
Brick was being the big spoon as he curled around her, his heat warming her from the outside in.
The sex, after they’d returned from the neighbor’s, had been explosive and she might have even blacked out a couple of times with some of the things he did with his tongue and other digits.
He had demanded that she keep her heels on. She had.
After fucking her the first time rough and fast, when he slowly slid them off one at a time, she just about orgasmed when his mouth did all kinds of things to her feet, her ankles, her calves, behind her knees...
Everything clenched on her again from the memory.
She turned in his arms to find his eyes closed, his lips parted slightly, and him breathing evenly like he was asleep.
She wasn’t sure if he was or wasn’t since usually after she fell asleep, he moved away from her to give himself some space.
She traced her fingertips over his relaxed features. Across his forehead, down his nose, across both cheekbones, and along the short wiry hairs that covered his upper lip and sharp, strong jawline.
She was lightly outlining his lips when his tongue came out and touched her finger, but his eyes remained closed.
She felt sorry for all the women he’d had throughout the years, who only got to enjoy him for a sliver in time, who didn’t get to experience all of him. They only got a small piece, even though, in truth, the “piece” they got wasn’t that small.