Choices, Loyalty, & Love (Men of NatEx #3): A Package Handlers Novel Read online

  Finally, she sniffles and pulls herself out of my embrace. “Sorry,” she mutters, ducking her head. “I shouldn’t have…” Then she trails off. With her arms, she tries to shield her body as she picks her clothes up off the counter.

  That’s ridiculous to me. “Hey.” I snatch her wrist in a gentle hold.

  She faces me, wiping her eyes with her free hand.

  After grabbing a tissue from the box by the door, I dab at the tears running down her cheeks and swipe at the mascara streaking across her face. “You don’t ever have to hide from me. There’s nothing you can’t show me. Nothing you can’t tell me.”

  She hiccups before speaking. “But you said—”

  “I know,” I tell her, soaking up the last of her dark makeup with the tissue. “I shouldn’t have said that, especially if it’s made you this upset. Whatever you wanted to tell me, I’m all ears. You shouldn’t have to hold it in anymore.” Then I toss the tissue in the trash. I think. I can’t look away from her, so I don’t know if it made it. Nor do I care.

  Her eyes shine up at me like she wants to latch onto that statement and see how far she can get with it. But her body language tells another story: that this secret hurt won’t be given up so easily.

  Her bottom lip trembles as she says, “I don’t want to hold it in anymore.” On the last word, her voice breaks.

  So does my heart. “So don’t. Tell me what has you so upset.” With my thumb, I catch another loose tear under her eye.

  Nic leans in against my palm, squeezing her eyes closed again. “I haven’t told anyone.” She sucks in a deep breath and releases it with purpose. “I tried to tell you, but you didn’t re”—she hiccups—“respond.”

  I squint at her for a moment, but then I remember. “That text?”

  She nods against my hand and then looks at me again.

  Inhaling through my nose, I try to formulate a response, but I don’t have a good enough answer. Instead, I fight the way my body is turning to stone against her—and not in a good way. Just the thought of whatever that text said sends my blood into a cement-like state.

  Because she came to me when she felt like she had no one and I ignored it.

  “There’s no excuse, Nic. I just couldn’t—”

  That’s all of the explanation I get out. Because she cuts me off with words I’ve said to her in the past, before I kissed her the only time we’ve ever been that intimate.

  “I just have to know,” she whispers in a rush.

  Then she stretches up onto her tiptoes.

  And she plants her soft lips on mine in a kiss that steals the breath right out of my lungs.

  Chapter 6

  Nic

  This is what this feels like. To kiss Aidan the man, not Aidan the kid in his early twenties. To kiss the man who’s been on my mind since before he moved away. To kiss the lips I’m meant to kiss for the rest of my life.

  It feels just like it did the first time, when I shouldn’t have pushed him away.

  But everything with Aidan has always felt like too much. He’s overwhelming, which is scary as hell. He’s intense now, which freaks me out. He’s passionate, which is more than I can handle sometimes. Yet I’ve never allowed myself to try. I couldn’t even think about trying before.

  Now?

  I can.

  He won’t let me though. “What the fuck?” he hisses as he pushes me off him—but only an arm’s length away. He still has his hands wrapped around my upper arms. It’s like he can’t have me kissing him but can’t quite let me go, either.

  I won’t apologize. I shouldn’t have to. I’ve done nothing wrong here, but he doesn’t know that, and I don’t know how to tell him without him wanting to kill his brother. While I don’t think he actually would, he’d want to come close. And it’s my fault they’ve spent so much time apart already. I can’t be the reason they never speak to each other again.

  “What was that?” He stares at me, the intensity in his gaze drilling a hole right into my soul. “You can’t just do that. That’s not fair.” Then he lets me go and wipes a frustrated hand down his face as he paces to the door.

  “Not fair to who?” I mutter as I watch him.

  He pauses, one hand propped on his hip. The other’s frozen in midair as if he were going to run his fingers through his short hair. But I shocked him with my words.

  “Who isn’t that fair to?” I ask again. “Me? You? Why wouldn’t it be fair to you?”

  Through his nose, he huffs a breath out. Then, through gritted teeth, he tells me, “I meant my brother.”

  His words give me pause. I hadn’t considered Mason when I asked that question. Probably because he didn’t consider me when he did what he did. Instead, I was hoping for a different reaction from Aidan. And I didn’t get it. So we’re back to square one.

  Where I have to tell him the truth and hurt him again.

  “Mason’s out of the picture,” I admit as I start to shiver. The tile is cold against my feet, and the warmth in the room has vanished now that Aidan’s no longer holding me.

  He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. “Excuse me? I just saw you two and—”

  “Yeah,” I say, holding a hand up to cut him off so he can save his breath. “I know what you saw, but it’s all for show.”

  With a scoff, he shakes his head and rubs his mouth with his hand. A disbelieving smirk lifts his lips. “No. I don’t think you know what I saw if that’s what you have to say about it. If that’s what you believe.”

  I cross my arms over my chest—and don’t miss the way Aidan’s gaze goes straight to my cleavage before he looks away just as quickly. “I’m sure you really did see what you think you did,” I tell him, holding his stare now, “but it’s one-sided and he knows it. It’s been over for months.”

  As Aidan’s brow furrows, he shakes his head again. “I don’t understand. Why?” he asks. “And why doesn’t Mason seem to know that?”

  “Because I haven’t said it outright,” I admit, shifting my weight. “It’s…complicated.”

  “Sounds like it.” He releases a deep breath and folds his arms over his chest too. “Sounds like something I don’t need to get in the middle of. I’ve learned my lesson since we last talked, you know.”

  It’s my turn to take a deep inhale. I don’t know if he’s purposely pressing my buttons or just trying to protect himself, but I honestly can’t blame him for either tactic. All I know is I need to tell someone the truth already, and Aidan’s one of the worst choices.

  “I’m not asking you to get in the middle of anything, but I have no one else to talk to about this. Your mother doesn’t need to know, and it doesn’t feel right to burden anyone else with my shit. All the women in the knitting club will just…” I search for the right word to describe the smothering I’d receive if I told any of them. “They’ll overreact, you know? I just can’t deal with telling them and then deal with their reaction to it.”

  For several beats, he stares at me. He’s probably trying to puzzle the truth out himself from what I’ve said. Then his eyes grow wide and he rushes back to me, pulling my arms away from my body.

  “Did that motherfucker hurt you?” he spits out, frantically searching over my skin. He spins me around to check my back, and I’m too shocked to respond for a few moments.

  “Oh my god, no!” I whirl back around. “He’s never laid a hand on me like that.”

  He throws his arms out to his sides, palms out. “Then what the fuck are you talking about? What happened?”

  I take a few seconds to breathe and gather the words. They land right at the tip of my tongue, dying to unleash themselves on a willing ear. But, in the end, I can’t. I swallow them down, past the lump in my throat, as tears well in my eyes again.

  “I want to tell you, but it needs to come from Mason,” I say instead. “Just trust me that—”

  “Trust you?” he roars. “You don’t even tell me the truth!” His hands go to his hips as his chest rapidly rises and falls with each he
avy breath.

  Maybe someone else would be scared of how he’s acting, but I’m not. I’ve never been scared of Aidan’s actions—just his promises. Only his words and what they mean. How much I want them but can’t have them.

  After I take a step forward, I reach a hand out and touch his arm. “I know,” I reassure him. “But I need you to do that for me, okay? This is Mason’s story to tell. His fuck-up. Not mine.”

  He twitches out of my grip. “If I find out he hurt you—”

  “He hasn’t done that. Ever. I swear.”

  His eyes lock on mine as he searches my gaze for the truth. “But you’re not together even though he clearly thinks you are?”

  Reluctantly, I shake my head.

  “This is why I don’t believe you,” he says, backing away from me. “He never stopped touching you at the restaurant, and he watched you leave the table like he was scared you’d never come back. He’s head over fucking heels for you, Nic. So what the fuck are you talking about?”

  “It takes two, Aidan.” I use his name since he used mine. “Two people make a relationship, and when one of them is no longer in it, it’s over.”

  “So why doesn’t he know that?” He crosses his arms over his chest again, taking up a looming, powerful stance.

  “Because I haven’t told him yet.”

  His arms fly out to his sides before slapping against his legs. “What am I supposed to do with that? Why does that make it okay for you to kiss me?”

  I close my eyes tight and pinch the bridge of my nose. “You’re right!” I yell too loudly in the small space. “You’re right, okay? I shouldn’t have done that, but I needed to know.”

  There’s silence between us for a few moments. Then his voice fills the room.

  “Know what?” he asks, his voice much lower and closer than it was before.

  When I open my eyes, he’s only a few inches away from me. Goose bumps rise all over my uncovered skin, and it’s clear he notices when his eyes trail down my face to my chest. Then he looks at me again, the force of his intense gaze sending a chill down my spine.

  “What do you need to know? That I still feel the way I did back then?” he questions, stepping even closer. “That I can’t sleep without dreaming about you? That I can’t look at another woman without thinking about you?” He brings his lips to my ear and whispers, “That I can’t fuck another woman without wishing she were you?”

  That chill down my spine turns into a ripple of lust skidding throughout my entire body. Did he really just say that to me? And why, oh why, do I find it so damn sexy when it was such an asshole thing to do?

  Oh, right. Because he’s Aidan and I’m inexplicably drawn to him, especially when he’s trying to get a rise out of me.

  “Yeah, Aidan,” I say once I’ve recovered enough from his words. Only enough because completely isn’t an option with him. “That’s exactly what I needed to know.”

  All too soon, he backs away from me and twists the door handle, opening the door. “Well, now you know. But as long as you’re with him,” he tells me as he leaves the room, “I can’t do this. If you want me, come and get me.”

  “It’s not that simple.” I follow him out to the main room as he heads for the door. I try to reach for him, but he’s quicker than I am.

  “I’m sure it’s not. But don’t use me as an excuse to leave your boyfriend.” Just before he reaches the door, he puts his hands up in a surrender position. “You have to do that shit all on your own.”

  ***

  Aidan

  Goddammit.

  That woman. She gets under my skin. Inside my bones. So deep in my head that I’ll never get her out. Especially now that I know how she feels.

  Wait. Do I know? She has me so fucked up that maybe I really don’t. Perhaps I have no damn clue.

  All I know is she’s well aware that I still want her—but nothing will fucking happen while she still has my brother wrapped around her pretty little finger. I don’t know what the fuck he did to mess shit up with her, but he’ll regret it. And he won’t need me rubbing his face in it by taking her right out from under him. She needs to figure her shit out on her own, without me as the reason or excuse.

  I’ll be here to help her pick the pieces up—and maybe I should have been clearer about that part. But she needs to figure out what she’s doing and let Mason know before knocking on my door.

  When I get to my Jeep, I have no memory of the elevator ride down to the lobby. Or the walk here. I’m so caught up in the fact that she kissed me—finally, after all these years. Even though she shouldn’t have, I’ll have that memory forever.

  And I almost can’t get home fast enough to relieve the ache it’s causing in my balls.

  During the drive, I have to rearrange my pants to alleviate the strain against my dick. It’s almost shameful that I’m lusting over her—a taken woman—this much, but fuck. She’s the love of my damn life. So sue me if I end up with a hard-on after seeing her in such a state of undress after this long.

  I park my car in my driveway, and when I get out, I realize how crooked it is. Oh fucking well. Before I explode, I need to get inside.

  After running up the stairs to my bedroom, I strip out of my clothes and get straight into bed. The last thing I need to do is beat off while thinking of her. She’s not available. Not my girlfriend. Not even my best friend anymore. She’s not anything but my brother’s woman until one of them says otherwise. But fuck. I might go off just from the light caress of my sheets.

  Maybe a cold shower will get me the hell over this.

  In the bathroom, I turn the water on and step in. It feels like ice pouring over me at first, which sends all the right “back the fuck down” signals to my dick. However, as soon as the water starts to warm up, the erection returns with a vengeance. So do thoughts of Nic’s lips on mine, her scantily clad body pressed up against me, her breasts spilling out of the top of her bra.

  I will myself to remember she was crying. She was upset. So I have no right to recall these images of her in a sexy way. It’s wrong to picture anything more happening between us as if I hadn’t done the right thing and pushed her away.

  Yet I still do.

  I just can’t help myself now that I’m alone. Wet. Naked. Hard.

  So I close my eyes and let the images overtake me, gripping my dick and sliding my hand up and down at the same time. With one hand braced against the wall of the shower, I pump into my fist and picture what could have been if I’d let her keep kissing me.

  In my new version of events, my hands go to her back so I can unhook her bra. It falls to the floor while I caress her soft skin and deepen the kiss. After that, I press her to me, her nipples hardening as they rub against my chest. My hands go into her hair as I kiss down her neck, and I tug on the long strands of her ponytail to find better access to her skin. When she moans, I nearly lose all semblance of control and suck too hard, almost giving her a hickey. But she squirms away just in time and darts her hands to my pants.

  Before she can take them off, I grip her hips and lift her up onto the bathroom counter. There, she sits, wraps her legs around me, and squeezes me so hard that my erection digs into her panty-covered folds. But I don’t want anything between us anymore, so I tug her panties down her legs and drop them on top of her discarded bra. This time when her hands go to my zipper, I let her finish the job.

  Once I’ve kicked out of my pants, I slip my shirt over my head and go back to kissing her. Five seconds was too long to be away from her, even though there’s no brother possibly on his way back to her in my vision. It’s just the two of us, and we can’t get enough of each other.

  I press wet kisses all down her neck until I reach her breasts. When I suck a nipple into my mouth, she moans and throws her head back, just missing the mirror behind her. Which gives me an idea.

  Gripping her hips again, I pick her up off the counter and spin her around so she’s facing the mirror. So she can see who’s about to fuck her. So she
can watch the pleasure wash over her face and know just who’s making her come. And so, when I’m finally inside her, I can watch her soft breasts bounce with each thrust.

  Which is exactly what happens.

  I remove my boxers, spread her legs, and find her dripping wet and ready for me. Then I trail one hand up her back and press her forward just enough so her bottom sticks out and I can access her better. That hand goes to the counter to brace myself, and once I’ve lined myself up with her opening, I easily slide inside her. Her warmth envelops my dick, and she clamps down on me when I pause, fully pressed within her. When I wrap my arm around her middle and thrust again, she finds my gaze in the mirror, holding it while I fuck her from behind.

  Her moans spur me on, and her eyes often flutter closed and then open again as pleasure overtakes her. She keeps herself upright with both hands gripping the counter, but one slips after a particularly hard thrust. Then she finds her grasp again.

  As I pump into her, the fingers I have against her skin drift down and find her clit. The moment I start rubbing, her breath comes faster and faster. So I play around with rhythm both inside her and within her folds, finding the one that gets us both there at the same time. In a frantic, powerful explosion, we both climax. She screams my name, and I duck my head and grunt against her back, stilling my thrusts and my finger right on her clit to ride the orgasm out.

  But, in reality, I’m coming all over my shower faucet, not inside her. In reality, there’s no Nic with me. In reality, she’s still with my brother, still unavailable, and still not mine.

  In reality, I’m alone and ashamed of what I’ve just done.

  So I stay in the shower until the water runs cold. Then I dry off, put pajamas on, and stare at the ceiling for half the night. When I close my eyes, I see her. Either she’s naked and riding my cock or she’s crying in my arms. And I can’t bear the thought of letting my mind wander off on its own and dream.

  At some point, sleep wins. I drift off and don’t even see her in my dreams. Instead, I see my brother, who’s mad at me for fucking his girlfriend. The news gets back to my mom, who is so disappointed in me that she cancels our regular Thursday calls forever. Then Jeremy and Matt find out and the only friends I have here don’t want me hanging around with them anymore for fear I might fuck their girlfriends. Which is absolutely absurd in real life, but this dream feels so damn real.