Pride & Pleasure (The KNIGHT Brothers Book 1) (8 page)

Avary shifted against the cool plastic. “I’m a bit taken back.”

“You probably don’t remember meeting me, but you left quite an impression with me.”

“That was before the attack. I don’t remember a lot before then.” She clasped her hands in her lap.

“Oh, sweetheart, that was such a tragedy, but to be brave and start all over again says a lot about your resilience.”

“I have a long way to go,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I don’t remember you.”

“It’s okay that you don’t. I’ve changed a little in the last few years.” Angelina laughed.

Avary searched her memory, wading through the fading memories. Then a flash of memory came to her. “I think I do remember. You were wearing a lovely red, sequined dress and your hair was in a chignon, and I was thinking to myself ‘what a lovely shade of red’. You were also with a tall gentleman…I think you introduced him as Dante.”

Her eyes shaded with something deep. “Yes, Dante.” She lowered her eyes momentarily, as if to gain her composure.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No, you haven’t. You see, when I first learned that I had cancer, Dante was fabulous, but I knew the diagnosis would be too much for him. It was Vic who was with me at my appointments, chemotherapy treatments, even would hold my hair away from my face as I threw up. Cancer is just too much for certain folks.” Her eyes glistened. “Oh, Dante has tried to contact me many times, but too much water is under the bridge. I’ve never hated him and have always wanted the best for him.”

Avary lowered her gaze to her hands.

“When I read that you’d been attacked outside of the theater, my heart broke. How horrible that must have been.”

Avary lifted her chin, seeing the sincerity in the other’s woman’s gaze broke some of the chains she’d built around herself to stay protected. “I don’t talk about it much…”

“I understand.”

“Yet, it changed my life…”

CHAPTER FOUR

Victor poured himself two fingers of scotch and knocked it back, clenching his teeth as it burnt all the way into his stomach. He liked the scorch, the one that only a good scotch could give. He needed something to try and ease the ache in his groin that was now painfully noticeable. Over dinner he’d caught glimpses of the tops of Avary’s pale breasts. The sleek line of her silken neck. The elegant way her long, slender fingers moved around the utensils and the stem of the glass. The way her lips curved as she drank thirstily, and when she smiled at him. She had no interest in him and her every seductive movement was unintentional. Was that the draw he had for her? Her innocence.

He’d never been this attracted to a woman before—one that didn’t seem to notice him in any sexual way at all.

He had to stay focused. She wasn’t his type. Her lips were a little too thin. Her eyes were too big. Her breasts were nice and…
oh shit!

No use. She was lovely.

The way the dress fit her showed off her lush curves. Although she was thin, she was built. Her hair reminded him of silk, perfectly smooth and soft.

He’d drunk her in like a fine wine, one he’d never sampled—a rare find.

He’d been a little disappointed when Angelina demanded time alone with Avary. He wasn’t ready for the evening to end and had looked forward to having dessert with her in one of his favorite spots—the dock. They could have chatted about nothing important or anything in particular—just good ol’ conversation he hadn’t had with a woman since—well—ever. He wasn’t known for his loquaciousness, and most women who were, he never saw again. Of course, he was turned off by a woman who couldn’t seem to stop sharing all of the details about her facelifts, fame, and fortune.

Yet, why did he suddenly have an ear for listening to a damaged cellist from the city? Because she was much more than that. She was mysterious and lovely, and her opinions were straightforward. She had no desire to please him by telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. Refreshing.

He wondered what Angelina and Avary had discussed. He hadn’t seen his sister this happy in a long time, which in turn made him happy. It seemed as though Avary Pine could do that to a lot of people.

Truth was, he’d been upset with his sister for six months now since she’d decided not to seek treatment. He understood the first time had been rough for her, and when it returned, this time in her ovaries, she’d denied the doctors’ efforts to prolong her life. She’d told them that it would only prolong her suffering. Victor had bitten his lip and supported her, yet a part of him wanted so badly to force her to stay here, with him, longer. That would only be selfish of him.

Hell, she wouldn’t even allow him to tell their brothers that she was sick again. She’d made him promise that he’d wait until she was ready. Angelina didn’t want them to worry, or feel as though they should be here watching her die. Victor had to believe that she knew what was right for herself.

However, it sure as hell wasn't right for him.

He was here, close to her, day in and day out. There was nothing he could do to help her. He’d prayed, time and again, for a way to ease her suffering. Maybe even ease his pain a bit too. Watching her so sick and frail was the hardest thing he ever had to do.

Out of pure necessity, he’d mentioned the subject of Angelina and her cancer to Selena one evening months ago. She’d turned the conversation back to herself, and he’d never talked to her again about his sister.

He placed his empty tumbler on the bar and headed for the stairs, ready to call it a night. Not that he was really tired, but it meant that the morning would come sooner and he’d see Avary quicker, not for any other reason but to talk to her about the party of course. He hadn’t gotten the chance to fill her in on the details.

Angelina wanted the party, but Victor thought it was saturnine. He didn’t want all of her snobbish friends in his house making over her, telling her lies about how they’d been too busy to come and see her over the last three months. They certainly had the time when she was healthy—when she was inviting them to fancy dinners and vacations. Yet, he’d made another promise to his sister to behave himself.

Stomping up the stairs, he stopped at his mother’s portrait and sighed. He remembered how horrible her death was. One minute she was fine, exuberant and outgoing, and the next she was bed stricken and frail. Victor and his siblings had been sat down by their father and told dryly that their mother had only a few months to live.

Some of his brothers were young enough that they didn’t quite understand, but Victor was heartbroken. So, as his mother grew sicker, eventually dying one early spring morning, he’d cried, begging God to give her back. She’d been the only one who’d comforted him during storms. Bandaged him up after falls. Read him stories of knights in shining armors, and assured him he was smart and could be anything he wanted.

Victor had been so alone, even now he missed her so much it hurt to breathe.

Then when his sister had been diagnosed with the same cancer, he’d believed it was the hand of the devil. He was close to her, just as he was his mother, and there was nothing he could do to prevent their suffering. Soon he would be alone—all alone.

Inside of his bedroom, he dragged off his clothes, dropped them onto the end of the bed and climbed naked between the sheets. He closed his eyes, but sleep wasn’t easy to come. He tossed and turned for a good hour before he finally drifted, only to be awakened by the soft purr of a female and a touch on his cock. At first he believed he was dreaming of warm lips wrapping around his tip, slowly easing down his shaft, and the constricting of a throat as he was suckled. He even moaned, an image of Avary on the back of his eyelids, fantasizing that she was the one giving him pleasure.

When a tight grip came on his balls, he realized this wasn’t a dream.

He fluttered his eyes open. The room was dark, but he wasn’t alone. He grumbled, but the soft body snuggled closer, fingernails dragged over his stomach and stopped at his pelvis. He drew in a deep breath, his nostrils filling with a scent of Jasmine. Only one woman he knew wore Jasmine. “Selena?”

“I’m flattered that you know my touch even in the dark.” Her breath scorched his moist cock.

Growling, he reached over and turned on the lamp. The golden light flooded the room and the smile on her face reminded him of the devil’s spawn caught in the act of evil. “What are you doing here?”

Her crimson lips dropped into a dramatic frown as she looked at him over his moist tip. “You didn’t show up so I thought you were playing hard to get. I wouldn’t just come after any one, you do realize that?” Her sultry words should have had him hard as a rock, but his dick turned flaccid.

“Something came up,” he muttered.

“It’s not nice to stand a woman up, Victor, especially one like me.” She shifted and the sheet fell off her shoulder, exposing her large breasts and perky, pink nipples that he used to love suckling.

“How did you get in?” He was still trying to wrap his brain around the finer details. He’d never been with her, or any woman, here in his bed.

“You gave me the security code and keycard, remember?” she slurred. Had she been drinking?

“I gave them to you?” He’d never given anyone the code and card. And then it struck him… “Are you talking about the time when you were picking up the bottles of wine that I gave you for your party? I didn’t give you them to have you sneak in here in the middle of the night.”

“What’s the difference if I’m here or you’re at my place?” she whined.

“You know I don’t bring women here.”

“You mean you don’t invite
me
here,” she snarled.

“No, I don’t have any women here in my bed.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t explain to her that this was his safe haven, away from everyone and everything. He knew telling her that he thought of their relationship as more of a business association than an intimate one would only hurt her feelings, so he always kept it to himself.

“Are you complaining that I’m here? When have you ever rejected me blowing you off?” She slid her tongue along her lips. “I’ve given you a blow job while we’re driving down the highway and you didn’t say no.” When she was angry, her accent became heavy, or she interchanged between English and French, but thankfully he spoke the language fluently.

“You didn’t have another cock you could have sucked off tonight? The rich lawyer wasn’t available?” He didn’t like being harsh, but he’d known for some time she and the attorney-to-the-stars had been cozying up at social events. The thing was, Victor didn’t care one damn bit. He’d come to the conclusion that he needed to make changes so that Selena could have the life, and the bank account, that she desired.

She blinked, but recovered quickly, then crawled up his body, nestling herself against him. He couldn’t deny that she had a luscious, tight body, and usually wore slinky outfits that left little to the imagination. Hell, he’d never been one to judge a woman for having confidence, and wouldn’t start now, but he admired how Avary had looked tonight—she didn’t show off anything, but the accidental glances of her breasts above the cups of her bra, her slender shoulders and her long legs had turned him on more than he’d ever been in his life. He knew these emotions had nothing, and everything, to do with Selena. And it didn’t look good for whatever it was they had between them.

Selena rubbed her moist, warm pussy against his thigh. His cock jerked and he cursed that part of him that undeniably liked soft curves way too much. “Don’t be grumpy, Vic.” She slid her finger along his jaw. “I drove all this way just to pay a friendly visit.” She slithered her fingers down his chest, over his stomach and to his groin, taking his shaft into her palm and lightly squeezing. “It seems this part of you isn’t disappointed in seeing me.” She chuckled. “I brought my handcuffs. I’m feeling a little naughty tonight.”

He gritted his teeth.

“Why don’t I pretend that I’m the rich mistress and you’re my lowly servant?” She licked one flat nipple and he moaned.

His cock grew in her palm, and he couldn’t control it. He needed a release, but this wasn’t what he’d planned. She continued to slide her hand up and down, flicking her thumb over his head that ached something horrible.

A petite blonde with too big of eyes and pale skin came to mind.

Sensations tripled in his gut. He couldn’t tell if it was heat from the spiraling need or guilt. Selena continued to roll her fingers skillfully along his shaft. His dick jerked and his ass clenched.

His mind again conjured images of Avary.

Damn. His mind and body were at war.

He laid his palms on Selena’s bare shoulders and gently pushed her back. Her eyes widened. “Selena, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t or won’t, because it sure seems that parts of your body certainly can and that’s the only part I care about.”

“Okay, I
won’t
do this.” He pushed away from her and slid from the bed, grabbing his boxers and jeans from the chair and dragging them on. When he turned back to her, she was sitting up at the waist, her large, beautiful breasts visible, her thick nipples hard and inviting. Her hair tumbled across her shoulders, her mouth was perfectly full and he knew what they could do to his body. He gave his head a shake and growled deep in his chest. How the hell was this happening to him? Every time he started to even think of sinking his body in Selena’s pussy, an image of Avary came to mind. Sure, she was pretty in an innocent sort of way, but he wasn’t interested, at least not in sleeping with her. Innocence had never been his thing. He liked vixens, like Selena, who liked taking things to the next level, understanding his needs.

“Are you sure, Victor?” She pushed the blanket further down her soft hips and thighs, exposing the bare treasure that once gave him much pleasure.

He hesitated. He could so do this…do her. No one would know. One last tryst as a goodbye. He scrubbed a hand over his head. Hell, he’d know. He wasn’t sure where all of the morals and ethics were popping up from, but at this rate he’d be a damn gentleman before long.

“I’m very sure,” he muttered.

With an irritated sigh, she climbed out of bed and very confidently sashayed her way over to where her clothes were dumped in the middle of the floor. She slowly dressed and he stood there watching, not because he wanted her, but because he knew this would be the last time he’d see her, at least this way. Nothing would have ever come of their relationship, and he was okay with that. He still couldn’t forget that she’d been his go-to girl when he needed a soft body to hold.

Once she was dressed, she turned to him, flashing him with a laser glare. “I hope you’ve made the right decision because hell will freeze over before you touch this again.” She smoothed her fingers along the curve of her voluptuous hip and slid her fingers up her inner thigh, touching her crotch, then she glided toward the door, carrying her heels.

“Fuck!” He tore his hand through his hair. “You’re staying, Selena.”

One corner of her mouth lifted. “Change your mind? I knew you would.” One corner of her mouth popped up.

“Not about that, but you’re two sheets in the wind and I won’t have it on my shoulders if you wreck and kill yourself,” he grumbled.

“Your bed is big enough for two.” She moved for his bed and he gently took her elbow, guiding her to the door. “What are you doing?” she squealed.