Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6) Page 5

  Maybe he could find a local hookup while they were there. Just say he was running out for...

  It didn’t matter. He’d find an excuse.

  Not that he needed one. They were only pretending to be a couple.

  He also reminded himself they were on an assignment and the sooner they could find out the information they needed, the sooner this job would be over.

  He rolled out of bed and, since her eyes remained closed and she was still snoring, he didn’t even bother to go into the walk-in closet when he changed for a run.

  Her ass was dragging. It had taken her almost all night to finally fall asleep. But this morning she decided she’d wallowed in self-pity long enough.

  She was done with it. This assignment was supposed to be a fresh start, a new attitude.

  A new independent Londyn, free of men.

  No man was needed to make her happy. That’s what she told herself and what her sex therapist sister told her.

  Though, ironically, Parris had a man who apparently made her happy.

  Her lips flattened out as she came around the corner following the scent of freshly brewed coffee. A direct infusion of caffeine would be welcomed.

  Not that she needed to be perky this morning, she had nowhere to go. She wasn’t sure what their plans were for the day since she had no idea how to do the “spy” stuff.

  If it meant being a typical nosy neighbor, she could do that. But she had a feeling Brick would require more. He wanted to make contact and that would take more than peeking out around a curtain.

  The kitchen was surprisingly empty, the coffee pot full. She was tempted to grab a mug but something else caught her eye.

  Moving closer to the sliding glass doors, her eyes slid to the large round thermometer hanging on the pool shed. Low 70s. After living outside of Syracuse, New York, for the past four years, she was used to cooler weather. While the Florida heat would be overbearing later, she could live with the current temp.

  Her eyes quickly went back to what—or who—first caught her attention.

  A shirtless Brick was on the concrete, laying on a thick towel, doing sit-ups.

  Londyn pursed her lips. Should she stay inside and watch without being detected? Or should she go out and get up close and personal?

  That was a no-brainer. Outside, her view would be unhindered. She slid the door open and slipped out, closing it as quietly as possible behind her.

  As she studied him while he effortlessly did sit-ups—counting out loud, no less—it hit her that it was unfair some people were that naturally good-looking. Not the defined abs, which he definitely had, or the hard pecs, which hardly jiggled as his stomach clenched with each curl up to his bent knees before uncurling back. Those she knew he worked hard for. It was the whole package.

  No one should be so perfect.

  She was startled out of her thoughts when he said, “Come sit on my feet and I’ll knock these out faster.”

  What?

  First of all, how could he even talk while doing that? And second, did he say he could knock them out even faster?

  She moved around to the bottom edge of the towel, then let her gaze slide up his shins, over his knees, to his flexing, bulging thighs... to the silky fabric that...

  That...

  Those were the shorts he worked out in? Was it the eighties? They looked as short as her PJ bottoms.

  Though, he looked a lot better in his. Even at that angle. Hell, especially at that angle.

  His arms were crossed over his slick bare chest like a mummy and his eyes caught hers as he lifted and fell.

  No, if she was attempting to do sit-ups, she would be collapsing back down to the ground. He had that shit in perfect control.

  “Knees on my feet.” He didn’t even sound out of breath!

  “Can’t I just use my hands?”

  He rose, hesitated, said, “No,” and went back down.

  “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.” It wasn’t like she was the lightest woman she knew. She wasn’t a petite gym bunny who wouldn’t crush his toes.

  He rose, hesitated, said, “You won’t,” and lowered back down, waiting.

  Londyn shrugged and kneeled on his feet. Once she was settled, he began his sit ups again, almost knocking her off balance.

  “Hold on to my knees.”

  When she did, she noticed his legs only had a light covering of hair, the skin on his knees was smooth and warm. And every time he lifted up, his face came only inches from hers.

  He also hadn’t lied; he did start to do them faster. The ripples of his stomach muscles and the ease in which he counted them off fascinated her more than it should.

  “Seventy-four.”

  Seventy-four?

  He wasn’t even human.

  Up. “Seventy-five,” he whispered as his face once again came inches from hers. She sucked in a breath.

  Down.

  Up. “Seventy-six.”

  Down.

  Londyn felt a bead of sweat break out on her forehead. Anyone seeing it would think she was the one doing the sit-ups. In fact, her stomach clenched every time he came up.

  Her fingers dug into his knees as she held on and her lips parted. Then she noticed something. Something other than the single tattoo she noticed on his ribs.

  “I was wrong,” she breathed.

  “Eighty-two. About?”

  “You’re not perfect.” She jerked her chin towards his crotch. “You’ve got a scar. Right there.”

  High up, a thin, white line marred his left inner thigh. Just visible below the silky fabric of his navy shorts.

  Now that she noticed it, she couldn’t draw her eyes from it. “From when you were a SEAL?”

  “Eighty-six. No.”

  Before she gave it too much thought, she reached between his legs and traced her finger over the slightly raised line.

  All the breath loudly rushed out of Brick as his back slammed onto the towel-covered concrete. “Londyn...”

  Her fingers were so close to the radiating heat of the silk-covered mound. Now she wasn’t only sweating, breathing was becoming difficult.

  His hand grabbed hers, pulled it away from his thigh and squeezed her fingers tightly. “Are you always so impulsive?”

  “It’s a bad habit,” she murmured, raising her gaze from their hands to his eyes.

  “That’s not keeping your hands to yourself,” he reminded her, placing her hand back on his knee.

  “It just... drew me. How did you get it?”

  “Can I finish my sit-ups first?” With that, he whipped through the last of them, finishing when he counted to a hundred.

  A hundred freaking sit-ups.

  He was not a man; he was a machine.

  Her name murmured in his low, deep voice got her attention.

  “Yes?”

  “You can get off my feet now.”

  She scrambled to get up, but before she could, he had curled his body up again and snagged both of her wrists, keeping her from moving away. Their gazes locked and neither said a word for a few seconds.

  What the hell was happening? Why, with just a look, did her nipples pebble and her pussy clench?

  She needed to break free of whatever his hold was. And not the physical hold he had on her wrists. “Does Mercy have a pair of those?”

  He tilted his head and a smile spread across his face, and every time that happened, she had to catch her breath. “My guess? Yeah. We all do.”

  “I get it now. I’m going to high-five Parris the next time I see her.”

  His eyes held amusement for a second, then became serious, his smile disappearing.

  He pulled her right hand back to his thigh where the scar was, sliding her fingertips lightly along the six-inch line. When he began to talk, a shudder swept through her. “I was seven and thought I was a daredevil. I raced through the woods on my bike and tried to jump a fallen tree.”

  “I take it you weren’t successful,” she whispered, mesmerized by the way he
was moving her fingers back and forth over the scar.

  How could a childhood story, not even a good one, turn so erotic?

  “No, I crashed, and the pedal sliced into my thigh.”

  “You were lucky you didn’t crack your skull open.”

  “It’s pretty fucking thick.”

  “Your only scar is from childhood? You escaped your service without any?”

  “It’s not my only scar.”

  The way he said that drew her out of her daze. “Where are the rest?” He only wore tiny shorts and nothing else; it wasn’t like he could hide much.

  “Those are the ones you can’t see.”

  Ghostly fingers slid down Londyn’s spine and the hair at the back of her neck stood.

  When Parris hooked up with Mercy, her sister had told her that his team at In the Shadows Security was made up of men who were all former special forces. She also mentioned that they all were broken in some way. Some more than others.

  At the time, Londyn hadn’t thought much of it because anyone—not just men or women who’d served in the military—could be broken. In fact, a lot of people were dealing with issues.

  But the first time she met Mercy, she realized what Parris meant. His scar, his demeanor. He was not open and warm. The man was almost not even human unless he was looking at Londyn’s sister.

  However, the man still sitting on the towel in front of her, watching her closely, had been anything but that. He also had a sense of humor, totally opposite of Mercy.

  Because of that, she wondered what invisible scars Brick was dealing with.

  Not that it was her right to know. It wasn’t. And, hell, they didn’t even know each other well enough to ask. She had to fight the impulse to do just that.

  However, they needed to get to know each other and soon since they were playing a married couple to fool another couple who could possibly be murderers.

  That was some serious shit.

  But whatever was in Brick’s background, whatever had left a mark, couldn’t be enough to worry that he’d hurt her. Otherwise, that would have been Parris’s objection, not because he was a player, which was what her sister flat-out said.

  She also reminded Londyn—as her concerned sister and not a sex therapist—that jumping into bed with anyone right now would just be on the rebound and could make dealing with her situation with Kevin worse.

  However, as she stared at the man who stared back at her, she wondered if “only sex” would still be considered rebound. Going in with eyes wide open, no expectations of a relationship at all, simply using it as an outlet to help push her toward her fresh start... in a fun and satisfying way.

  Again, she wasn’t a gym bunny, not even close, so she wasn’t even sure if a man like Brick would be interested in a woman like her.

  “Plush,” Kevin had called her once. As if she was a stuffed animal or something.

  But, even so, Kevin had liked the way she was and so had plenty of other men in the past. Though, none of them had stuck. Most of her relationships had been short-lived. Kevin had been the longest, and, until she learned the truth, Londyn thought he’d be the last.

  She stretched her fingers along the warm skin of Brick’s inner thigh, halting the movement he was making. “We said we’d keep our hands to ourselves, but...”

  He lifted a brow.

  “But did we sign anything?”

  Even his laughter was... orgasmic. Low and smooth as it lit up his face. Which made her wonder just how deeply held his “scars” were.

  “I like the way you think.” Brick released her hand at his thigh and surged to his feet, hauling her up with him using her other hand.

  And when they stood face to face, he tipped his down to hers...

  Her tongue swiped her bottom lip. Was he going to kiss her?

  Should her “outlet” include kissing?

  Kissing was so... intimate.

  “Londyn...”

  “Yes?”

  “I can see your mind spinning like a fucking top.”

  “I’m wondering if this would be a bad idea.”

  “It’ll be a bad idea,” Brick confirmed with a grin. “But life is full of bad ideas.”

  That was certainly true. Which was why she was now in Florida instead of New York.

  With a man named Brick.

  Who she was thinking all kinds of dirty thoughts about right now.

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” she whispered.

  “You can’t say a word to Rissa.”

  Londyn made the hand movement at her lips of locking them by turning the key and tossing it away.

  “Londyn, seriously, not even a hint.”

  “Not even a hint,” she echoed.

  His eyelids lowered and his expression became soft.

  “Would you do me?” She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and waited.

  At her question, his face changed again, but this time his expression became hard. Maybe he misunderstood.

  She quickly followed up with, “I mean, not ‘would you do me?’ as a request, but would you do me? As in, someone like me?”

  His brow furrowed and his eyebrows pinned together. “Fuck yes.”

  “Because you’ll do anybody?”

  He stepped back, frowning. “Have you seen yourself?”

  “Yes. And I’ve seen you. That’s why I’m asking. I’m not sure why... I...”

  He reached up and drew his thumb over her bottom lip. “Who fucked with your head? Was it Kevin?”

  “Truthfully, it was society. I don’t know any woman who is perfectly confident with her body. Even if she acts like it, deep down, she worries. Am I too fat? Am I too thin? Is my cellulite a turn-off? Are my muscles too masculine? Are my boobs too droopy?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with your body.”

  “You haven’t seen me naked.”

  “Yet,” he added. “I saw you in your wet bathing suit and that doesn’t hide much.”

  She waved a hand in front of herself. “So, this doesn’t turn you off?”

  “Fuck no. If Mercy—” He quickly pinned his lips together, his jaw getting tight.

  Londyn’s mouth dropped open in surprise at his slip. “You would’ve dated my sister?”

  His blue eyes slid to the side. “Not dated.”

  “Oh... I see. You would have ‘tapped that.’”

  They slid back. “Your sister is hot as fuck.”

  Londyn took that as reassurance since... “We look a lot alike.”

  “And that’s what I’m saying.”

  “I take it if we weren’t stuck in this house together for the next... who knows when... and you saw me... wherever... you’d hit on me?”

  “If I saw your picture I’d swipe right so fast, I’d sprain my finger.”

  Her eyebrows pulled together. “Swipe right?”

  He raised his in surprise. “I thought you met Kevin on the internet.”

  “I did. There was no swiping involved.”

  “Well, now that you’ll be single, I’m sure you’ll be swiping.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t even know what that means.”

  One side of his very kissable mouth curled. “Welcome to the world of hookups. I have a lot to teach you, grasshopper.”

  “I’m not sure I want to learn. I need to be happy being single.”

  He jerked one shoulder up. “Being single doesn’t mean you have to be alone.”

  Hmm... that could play into her sex as an outlet theory. “You’re not helping.”

  Brick smiled, grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door. “C’mon. I need some fuel and a shower first.”

  Were they doing this?

  “Really? It surprises me that a man would put food before sex.” Especially a man who was familiar with the “world of hookups.”

  “I’m sure you don’t want me passing out when I’m in the middle of showing you how much I appreciate your body.”

  Hmm, food first might be a good idea, then.
“I can’t imagine some sit-ups would tax you much. Especially when you weren’t even breathing hard.”

  “It wasn’t just sit-ups. I went for a run—”

  She yanked him to a stop just inside the house. “Wait. You went running and did a hundred sit-ups?”

  He flashed his million-dollar smile at her. “You missed the hundred push-ups.”

  “Damn, I’ll have to get up earlier,” she whispered. She tilted her head. “I thought you said you were going to run past their house this morning. Did you?”

  “I did. I didn’t see them outside because it was early. So we need to get on that, too. We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

  Her lips twitched, as did her fingers in his. “Sex and spying?”

  He dropped her hand, turned toward her and cupped her face, tipping it up. Once again that smile was gone. She mourned its loss.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  She asked, “The sex or the spying?”

  “The sex. You’re stuck with spying.”

  “It’s probably not the best idea,” she answered, truthfully.

  “We already covered that.”

  “But... what could it hurt?”

  He didn’t say anything for the longest time. And she didn’t like how serious his expression became as he brushed a thumb back and forth along her cheek. “What happened with Kevin hit you hard last night. I watched you retreat. As much as I’d love to have sex with you, I’m not sure you’re ready.”

  “It’s just sex. We’re not shacking up together.”

  “Aren’t we?” He released her and stepped back, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I’m turning down sex. What the fuck.” He turned away from her and raked fingers through his hair.

  In one way, she was thrilled he wanted to have sex with her. In another, she was disappointed he was turning her down.

  She took a quick step back when he spun on her suddenly. “We need to spend the next two weeks, if not longer, together. If something goes wrong, it’s going to make this job even more difficult. You do get that, right?”

  “A lot of spouses don’t like each other,” she reminded him.

  “I don’t want you to hate me. Let’s give it at least a few days before you do.”

  “You think us having sex will make me hate you?”

  He took a visible breath and she watched every muscle in his body go solid, like he’d just stepped into a suit of armor. “You might not like me saying this and this might change your mind. I rarely have sex with the same woman more than once.”