Edge (Gentry Boys #7) (9 page)

Roslyn was getting comfortable, but part of her was still cautious.  Either because of who I was or because casual hookups weren’t her thing, or maybe a little bit of both. If I went at her too hard and too fast there was a good chance she’d back off.  That was the last thing I wanted. 

I started off much slower than usual, gently kneading her hips as events escalated onscreen. The boss argued with his secretary.  She called him a fucking pig.  He called her a teasing bitch.  Then they started tearing each other’s clothes off and he pushed his head between her legs right there on the mahogany desk.  After he’d finished her off he loomed over her, straddling her naked chest, and came all over her face. 

The actors were hardly finished gasping with pleasure when I moved my hands down Roslyn’s legs.  For a second she pressed her knees together like she was going to deny access, but when I gradually worked her thighs apart she didn’t object.  I could feel how hard she was breathing, how fast her heart was beating. 

As I got bolder and cupped her in my right hand she arched right into my fingers with a moaning sigh.

When was the last time she’d been touched?  She was fucking burning for it. 

Oh, yeah. 

This was it.  Everything was coming off and going down.  Right fucking now.  

Unsnapped. 

Unzipped. 

Beautiful. 

She’d twitched with surprise when I got her shorts open but made no move to stop me so I felt free to ease my hand down.  My fingers knew how to search for the right spot.  Once I found it she let out a soft groan.  That encouraged me to explore deeper, more insistently while my other hand loosened my pants.  

Whatever inhibitions she’d had when we sat down were now gone.  The combination of the alcohol, the darkness, and the roiling sexual tension was too much for her.  She was the type who would probably regret it all the next morning but right now that didn’t make a damn bit of difference because in a minute she was going to be willing to let me have her however I wanted. 

Eli’s eyes glittered in the darkness as he silently enjoyed the show with one hand working between his legs.  Then Kilt stirred and belched in his sleep, startling Roslyn enough that she jerked and sat up straight.  She hadn’t shoved my hand away yet but I could practically hear the wheels spinning inside her head as her more sensible side realized where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with. 

I acted on instinct.  I withdrew my hand, waited for a single heartbeat, then abruptly plunged both hands down inside her open shorts and into her panties. 

“Oh, fuck,” she breathed, shuddering as her body reacted by leaning back and curving her hips upward so I could get a better reach.  One finger penetrated, then two, as hot flesh quivered over the invasion. 

“Fuck,” she moaned again and oh my ever loving god
this was hot
, hearing her gasp and utter foul words that probably only passed her prissy lips once in a blue moon.  Dirty talk had never done much for me – I was all about the action – but I badly wanted to hear her drop more language like that. 

Meanwhile my eager dick was begging to join the party and threatening to take the first opening he could get to. Thirty more seconds and I’d have Roslyn bent over on the floor, pounding her hard right here in the open with Eli looking on and Kilt now starting to wake up and take interest.  Hell, they’d seen me fuck before and I’d seen them fuck before.  It was no big deal. 

Then Roslyn’s head rolled back onto my shoulder.  A breathy moan escaped her soft lips and something clenched inside my chest. 

I’m not sharing this. 

With an impulsive surge of possessiveness I stood and swept her into my arms. 

My dick was halfway out of my pants but that didn’t matter.  I was going to carry her to my bed and have every inch of her all to myself all night long. Tomorrow she could be ashamed if she felt like it but tonight she was going to come so hard and so much she’d forget that there were any other dicks on the planet besides mine.

“Conway?” she asked tentatively, her eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around my neck and let me carry her.  I didn’t feel like talking right now though, not unless she was going to say filthy words again.  She looked down the hallway where we were headed and bit her lip but held on tight. 

“Are we-“ she started to say and I silenced her by giving her my mouth. 

It was the kind of kiss that you could dive into and not care if you lost your tongue.  Fucking intense.  She responded with every bit as much passion as I gave her while we paused just outside the door to my room. I swung her down and backed her against the nearest wall, my hands everywhere as her legs circled my waist. 

She had strong legs, perfect legs, a dancer’s legs.  Did she used to be a dancer?  Somewhere in my head was the answer to that question and the answer was yes. I knew it because someone had told me so a long time ago.  Even though I hadn’t thought about Roslyn at all in the years between then and now I still remembered a few details about her, just like she probably remembered a few details about me. 

I got the door open and carried her with me, switching on the light an instant before I dumped her on the bed.  I locked the door behind me in case one of the boys felt like being cute and sneaking a peek.  If I wanted an audience I would have stayed out there in the lounge. 

She was down on her back and breathing hard.  It was quite a sight and it would be even better when I got all these clothes out of the way. I just needed to check on something first.   

I got between her legs and rubbed my swollen cock against her, lightly grinding. 

“You sure, baby?” I asked, low and sexy as I pressed on the heated core just on the other side of her panties. 

Roslyn didn’t seem out of her head to me and outside of one beer she hadn’t had anything to drink but I still wanted to make sure she wasn’t messed up.  I could decode women pretty rapidly and this kind of thing was definitely out of the ordinary for her.

Roslyn opened her eyes and looked right at me, lust and rebellion stirring together in her big brown eyes. 

“Yes,” she said with stubbornness and then boldly slid her hands underneath my shirt, pulling it up.  I obliged by tearing the thing right off my head and then enjoying the way her eyes flickered over me.  It was true that I logged countless hours at the gym for practical reasons and not for show but when a moment like this came up I was awful glad the show was available. 

Now it was fucking
on
. 

My pants were down, her shorts were off and a handy condom was clenched in my right hand. 

We kissed again and she teased my lip with her teeth in a way that drove me wild.  I got rid of her shirt and started working on her neck, sucking the skin, while she clutched at my back and bucked against me with a hiss.  Then my mouth went lower, tongue trailing over the mound of her right tit, which was about to be freed from the confines of its lace captor.  My fingers found the clasp, releasing, and I buried my face in all that soft skin.   I wanted to take a moment to suck on that prize like nobody’s business but there was something in my way.  It was hard and got caught in my teeth. 

As I backed up the light caught the silver chain around her neck.  My first thought was just to rip the damn necklace off but I figured she might get pissed so I decided to just shove it to the side for the moment. 

Then I blinked. 

I rose up on my elbows and stared. 

I blinked again and reached for it.  Then I pulled back before my fingers could touch it.  The clear piece of crystal hanging from the silver chain sat there innocently between Roslyn’s breasts and threatened to undo me. 

“Conway?” she asked, touching my face. 

“It’s you,” I said and in a voice that didn’t even sound like mine.  It sounded bewildered, hurt.  

Her eyes clouded with confusion.  “What do you mean?  What’s me?” 

I swallowed.  I took a good look at the girl lying nearly naked underneath me.

Why hadn’t I remembered before?  Maybe I just didn’t want to.  I remembered now though. 

“Do you think she’ll love it, Con?  Her birthday’s next week.  I think she’ll love it.” 

I knew who had been Erin’s faithful visitor, perhaps her only faithful visitor over the years.  With Erin’s family gone, Stone in prison for so long and me avoiding the very sound of her name, Erin’s devoted best friend might have been the only one who’d regularly set foot in the Emblem Memorial Cemetery to pay her respects.  Ever since I’d started visiting now and then I’d noticed the things that were left behind and I had wondered who the mysterious visitor was.  I understood that whoever it was had loved her too. 

More importantly, I knew why Roslyn – a privileged rich girl – wore this dime store trinket around her neck.  After all, I’d been there when Erin had bought it. 

With a sigh of old, never ending agony I closed my eyes and rested my cheek on Roslyn’s bare breasts.  She must have been surprised by the sudden attitude change.  She didn’t show it though.  Instead she reached down and caressed my face, then gently ran her fingers through my hair.  We stayed that way for a little while until I could trust that the fire between my legs had cooled.  Then I propped myself up on my elbows again and stared down at her. 

“Are you okay?” she asked and I saw the worry in her eyes.  She might think this was all her fault.  She shouldn’t think that. 

“You’re beautiful,” I told her, then kissed her quickly.  “And believe me, I want you so fucking bad.” 

“Then why...” Her voice trailed off and her brow furrowed as she tried to understand. 

How could I explain something to her that I couldn’t even explain to myself?  It had been a long time since I got regularly jacked up over feelings and heartache. My brother Stone had managed to get through to me a little bit but even he was kept at a distance, and not just for his own good.   Every once in a while, when the old wounds split again, I had a bad habit of patching them over with speed and sex and sometimes drugs as I strolled close to the edge of the abyss. 

Whether Stone’s influence had finally gotten to me or whether coming eye to eye with old memories had shaken something loose I couldn’t do this tonight. I just couldn’t. I’d hate myself for it tomorrow. 

When I tried to discreetly yank my pants back into place Roslyn scooted out from underneath me, sitting up, her long hair falling over her soft skin as she quietly hooked her bra and stared down at the bed. 

“I think I should go,” she said quietly.   

I closed my eyes.  “Don’t.”    

She looked up, startled.  I’d said it too loudly, almost desperately.  I wouldn’t fuck her right now.  But I didn’t want her to leave either. 

“Just stay.  Please?” 

She tilted her head, shrugging.  “Why?”

“Because I want you to.” 

Before she could say no I hopped up and turned out the light.  She stayed hunched right there in the middle of my bed, watching me in the dark, her lovely, soft profile making my heart ache almost as much as my balls did.  This would be a chore, being with her and not sliding into that hot body until we both got lost in temporary ecstasy.  I could do it though. For once I could act better than an animal would. 

Roslyn didn’t move as I crossed the room and crawled into bed beside her. When I pulled her back to settle down on the pillows she didn’t resist at all.  This was the closest we were going to get, at least for tonight.

“Just sleep,” I whispered as I curled her into my arms and covered the both of us with a loose comforter I picked up from the floor. 

She rested her cheek on my shoulder and let out a tiny, contented sigh that made my chest feel strange again.  I propped my chin on the top of her head and closed my eyes. 

Another time, another place, and maybe things would be different but not tonight.

Tonight I was tired.

Tonight I just wanted to hold her. 

Tonight, for the first time in a long while, I was letting my heart win a small battle.    

ROSLYN

“It’s you.” 

I awoke with the echo of those words in my ear even though they’d been spoken hours earlier.

Sometimes when people fall asleep in unexpected places they lose their bearings.  The brain clicks back to awareness and struggles to recall the name of the planet it lives on.  I still remembered waking up my first morning as a college freshman in my dorm room and wondering if my mind had been transferred to someone else’s body during the night.

That wasn’t the case this morning.  Before I even opened my eyes I knew that I was in Conway’s bed. 

I also knew without looking at the empty space beside me that he wasn’t here.

My stiff joints creaked in protest as I sat up and I figured I must have been in the exact same position for quite some time.  Everything else was a mystery though.  The night hours had passed deep and dreamless and I had no idea at what point Conway had loosened his embrace and slipped out of bed.  He’d left no note. 

Sitting up, I swung my legs around to dangle over the side of the bed.  All I wore were the bra and panties I’d slept in. 

Slept. 

In the end that’s all we’d done, although we’d come close,
so close
.

My face burned and a lick of desire rolled through me as I recalled just how dangerously we’d skated that edge.  In the hard light of morning I could only plead temporary insanity helped along by alcohol, an embarrassingly long sex famine, and a very powerful physical attraction.

Yet I couldn’t take credit for being the sensible one, the one who paused and zipped up before things escalated past the point of no return. 

I hadn’t been the one to stop.  He had. 

Why?

Conway didn’t seem like the type who would be ethically troubled by an impulsive one night stand.  He had to have a different reason. 

I felt a frown cross my face as I recalled the stricken look in Conway’s eyes, how he’d released an odd noise and then gently rested his head on my chest in a way that activated an odd, protective sense that I wanted to hold him, comfort him.

How strange that seemed, especially given everything I’d seen of him lately.  This was Conway Gentry, the same brash, arrogant man who lived in this circus of a hotel obviously filled with addicts, hustlers, and other exotic members of his dark world. 

Conway Gentry, who was sexy and gorgeous even as he radiated danger and ruin.

Conway Gentry, who at first seemed like he’d grown so strong and remote these last six years that he was barely recognizable. 

Conway Gentry, who had once worshipped his high school sweetheart so much he never even slept with her.   

Conway Gentry, who’d reportedly screamed with anguish when he’d learned his girlfriend was dead and then smashed his hand into a Main Street light pole to send the pain elsewhere.  I’d long forgotten who had told me how he’d reacted upon hearing the news of Erin’s death but I was sure it was true. 

And lastly, Conway Gentry, who had turned off the light and crawled into bed beside me merely to sleep. 

Somehow he was all of these versions of the same person and they were all him.

And what about Erin?  Hardly a day had gone by in the last six years that I hadn’t thought about her, missed her, mourned her.  Once, right after I’d received an unexpected letter, it had occurred to me to reach out to Conway.  After all, she’d loved him.  She’d loved him so much.  And losing her had crushed him. I could have found him if I’d wanted to.  Why didn’t I?  Selfish reasons maybe.  At the time it was hard enough to think of her without crying.  I knew in Conway’s face I would see my own grief magnified. 

I sighed and stood up, searching for my discarded clothes. So much time had passed.  We weren’t kids now, weren’t the same people we’d once been.

As I dressed I wondered how the surreal events of last night would play out today.  Probably the best idea would be to get the hell out of here and back to the security of my apartment before I had a chance to examine the way my heart started to race and my knees went funny every time the memory of Conway’s blue eyes flashed through my mind. 

My clothes were still in a limp pile on the floor and I gathered them up, hastily dressing as I made mental plans to escape before Conway could come back and change my mind about it.  He’d probably have no trouble forgetting about this. I could do the same.

Then I stiffened. 

“Dammit,” I said aloud to the empty room because I’d just remembered Emily was in here somewhere.  Presumably she wouldn’t need my help disentangling from her new love interest but she’d sure be curious to know what I’d been up to last night after she waltzed away with Jackson. 

Whatever.  I’d worry about Emily and explanations later.  Right now I just needed to find my way out of this decrepit old eyesore without attracting any attention. 

Wait.  My phone.  Where was my phone? 

With my keys.  In my purse.

And where’s my purse? 

I’d dropped it behind the couch out there in the lounge before crawling into Conway’s lap.  Once he’d gotten his hands on me all practical thoughts had flown out the window.  It had been so damn long since I’d been touched like that. 

In fact, if I was being honest then I’d say I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been touched like that, with such hunger and skill.  Conway was well versed in the art of seduction and it must have come from practice.  While I was no virginal blank slate myself, I had to admit his raw charisma had sent my head spinning.

Which was exactly why I needed to high tail it out of here before he returned and decided to be less gallant than he was last night.  I knew very well I wouldn’t be able to say no to him. 

For a few seconds I stood still, listening.  A pair of muted male voices sounded like they were coming from somewhere down the hall.  They spoke quietly, one briefly erupting into hoarse laughter, before they continued talking.  I couldn’t tell if either one belonged to Conway. 

But then an uncomfortable spasm reminded me I had a more immediate problem than Conway or keys or the unknown inhabitants of the Hotel San Gabriel. 

I needed to pee.  Badly. 

Luckily the room had a private bath and the door was wide open.  Once I took care of business I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping the world would make a little more sense, hoping I wouldn’t be hiding in the bathroom of my dead best friend’s boyfriend. 

I dried my face on a Spiderman beach towel that was hanging over the shower rod and visited my reflection in the mirror, tucking my hair behind my ears. I looked pale and wide-eyed, altogether washed out.  There was a nasty taste in my mouth so I took a mouthful of Listerine and spat, reasoning it was probably okay to borrow a guy’s mouthwash without asking if you’ve almost had sex with him. 

Alas, although my bladder was grateful for the relief, things weren’t any clearer than they had been a moment ago. Conway hadn’t returned, my heart still raced at the thought of him, and now an unearthly silence prevailed. Moreover, I had no idea what I’d find out in the hallway once I opened that door.  There might be an orgy or a meth party or the zombie apocalypse or nothing at all. 

The door was locked, which meant Conway must have locked up when he left.  I eased it open slowly, wincing over the loud creak of unoiled hinges before cautiously peering into the hallway.  It was empty.  There was nothing to see except some shabby green carpeting that might have been a good idea in 1973 but looked just horrid now.  The whole place was permeated with the musty odor of age but I caught a brief whiff of incense, reminding me of my college days. 

I closed the door at my back and warily stepped in the direction of the lounge where I’d been sitting with Conway last night. 

What had he told me about living here?  Very little.  But then, we hadn’t had much of a chance for in depth conversation.  We’d had time to argue, banter, flirt, almost hook up in a rage of fiery passion and then sleep.  A leisurely exchange of ideas hadn’t been a priority. 

As soon as I rounded the corner I breathed a sigh of relief.  The brown leather Coach bag I’d had since high school was exactly where I’d left it. 

That little bit of relief was short-lived.  I wasn’t alone after all. 

“Hello there,” boomed a cheerful voice. 

An enormous creature with startling red hair erupting all over his face and head waved at me from an armchair. He was holding the New York Times while a box of donuts precariously balanced on his knee.  Somewhere in the sea of red hair a pair of green eyes blinked.  He looked like someone who’d accidentally stepped through a portal where marauding medieval barbarians lived.

I relaxed a notch when recognition kicked in.  This guy had been here last night, snoring on one of the couches on the far side of the room.  He must be Conway’s friend. 

Red Beard was grinning at me with undisguised glee.  Maybe he hadn’t actually been sleep last night, when I’d nearly parted with my dignity right here in front of whoever cared to watch.  My cheeks burned.  I’d never done anything remotely that dirty before.  What the hell was it about Conway that made me abandon all common sense? 

“It’s Roslyn, right?” the man said.  Then he stuffed two chocolate donuts in his mouth. 

“That’s right.”  I carefully shouldered my purse, looking around.

The television was on but the volume was muted, some sort of morning program featuring a bright-eyed, excessively chipper hostess who could have been discussing anything from the stock market to mad cow disease. 

Red Beard chewed his donuts and watched me silently as I pawed through my purse.  One glance at my phone told me two things; it was eight o’clock on Sunday morning and there were no new calls or texts. 

I tapped out a ‘Where are you?’ text to Emily. 

“Don’t worry,” the man said. “He’ll be back.” 

I slipped the phone into my back pocket.  “What?”

Red Beard folded his newspaper and studied me.  There was that grin again; impeccable white teeth flashing beneath a mutinous beard.   He might be a little handsome beneath all that wild hair and menacing muscle. 

“Con,” he explained.  “Hustled out of here about twenty minutes ago but told me to keep an eye out in case you wandered out here.”

“Where did he go?”

“Fuck if I know.  Your boy’s not into explaining himself. Haven’t you figured that out yet? By the way my name’s Brian but only because my mother lost a bet.  These days anyone who needs my attention calls me Kilt or they’re wasting their time.” 

“Nice to meet you.” 

It wasn’t overly warm in here yet somehow I felt stifled.  I needed either coffee or fresh air.  A combination would be nice. 

Kilt separated his newspaper into two sections and tossed one on the coffee table.  “There’s a pot of coffee back there on the counter, extra cups lying around somewhere.  If you want to take a seat out here and wait around for Con I don’t mind.   Feel free to change the channel.”  He raised a bushy eyebrow.  “Unless you prefer to hang out in my lap and share the newspaper?” 

I took a step back. “Uh, thanks for the offer.  I think I’ll stick to coffee though.”

“Ouch.  I feel rejected,” Kilt laughed.  He didn’t seem especially put out. 

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

“Your loss,” he said with a wink.  “But I feel like I ought to mention that we’d make some mighty cute red-headed babies together if you ever change your mind.” 

It was an absurd line but I found myself smiling anyway.  “If you say so.” 

Kilt returned to his donuts and I poured a cup of coffee into a mug with the Arizona Cardinals logo.  “Hey, have you seen a girl around here?”

“Girls?” He frowned.  “They’re in and out of here all the time.  You looking for one in particular?” 

“I was wondering about my friend.  Emily.”

“Nope, haven’t seen anything that looks like an Emily.” 

“She was here last night with one of Conway’s friends.  You must know him too.  Name’s Jackson.” 

Kilt snorted.  “Thought I heard some pounding coming from somewhere.  Don’t worry, kid.  Jackson’s almost as much of a fine, upstanding gentleman as I am.” 

I sipped my coffee.  “I’m not sure how to feel about that.” 

“Then you’re every bit as smart as you are beautiful.” 

“Nice of you to say.” 

He winked.  “Still holding out hope for those red-headed babies.” 

This Kilt character had a gruff kind of charm and I didn’t mind the flirting.  He obviously knew Conway pretty well and he seemed harmless enough. 

Speaking of Conway...

The stairwell door opened and Conway busted through it, all abs and broad shoulders and tattooed sweaty skin. 

He noticed me with a nod.  “Well, look who finally woke up.” 

It took me a few seconds to untie my tongue and force my eyes away from his muscled chest.  I tossed my hair and cleared my throat, aiming for a nonchalant tone. 

“Usually I’m an early riser,” I said.  “Apparently not as early as you though.” 

Conway yawned.  “Actually I hate mornings.  Just dashed out for a run to blow off some steam.”