Page 54 of Memories of Us

Rebeka

THE HEM OF THE DENIMskirt grazed along the backs of my upper thighs as I smoothed it down with both hands. With a scowl, I glared at my reflection. Last time I wore this skirt, it was looser—damn donuts—but it was the best and only option I had. Paired with a loose white V-neck T-shirt and brown wedges, I was ready for a fun night out on the town.

Which I was. Especially since Brenton was coming too. Somehow while repairing a small section of mangled fence, I’d mentioned the fun plans for tonight with Ryder and Kyle. It must’ve been the effects of heat exhaustion to mention it, and for Brenton to ask if he could join us.

Okay, he didn't ask. Brenton Graves doesn't ask—he tells.

The mental image of Sir Fancy Pants in Dos Amigos mixing and mingling with all the roughnecks and ranch hands made me internally cringe every time I pictured it.

I shot a worried look to Ryder, who was focused on freshening up her bright red lipstick. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and stayed there.

“Listen, don’t worry about me. I'll be nice to the guy, promise. But don't let him being there prevent you from hitting on other guys.” Right, like possessive Brenton would let that happen. I already felt bad for any guy who breathed too close to me. “Because those other guys aren't leaving and could be more than just a fun four-day fling.”

Ouch. But she was right, even though what Brenton and I felt for each other was deeper than a fling.

I cringed at her brutal honesty and turned back to the mirror. “I know.”

“Do you?” she said with an annoyed tone that was rare for her to use toward me.

“No.”

“That's what I thought. Does he know that?”

Looking at her sitting on the edge of the bed through the reflection, I gave a noncommittal shrug. “I told him I know he's leaving, and at least this time it wouldn't be a shock. I begged for what happened last night between us. Begged him. Don't make him out to be the bad guy. Before, yes, when he chose his inheritance over the baby and me, he was the bad guy. But now I'm older, he's older, and we're two adults who know what's on the table.”

The bed squeaked when she pushed off the mattress. Tiny arms wrapped around my waist, and her warm cheek pressed against my bare bicep. “I don't want to see you get hurt again is all.”

“I missed it.”

In our reflection, her eyes flicked up to mine. “Missed what?”

“Being someone’s. I love being in his arms, protected and cherished. It might be a short-lived thing, but it’s amazing feeling this way again. I feel wanted, desired every time we’re together. I never want it to end.”

My vision blurred as I stared unseeing at our reflection.

Was I an idiot for playing with the same fire that burned me before?

The sun had already set, the heat from the day less brutal, when we stepped through the front door out onto the porch. I paused to watch Brenton and Kyle in an in-depth discussion. Both the men’s brows were furrowed, scowls of concentration on their faces. Brenton's eyes flicked over to where I stood just outside the door. Warmth bloomed in my stomach, twisting and turning at his unabashed perusal up my bare legs.

“We're driving separate,” he announced to the other two, keeping his heated gaze locked with mine. Each stomp of his boots made my heart skip, inching up the anticipation of what naughty things he had in mind. A callused hand wrapped around mine as he passed to tug me along with him.

The passionate heat between us blazed hotter the moment the doors to the truck slammed closed. Instead of pulling me to him like I expected, Brenton pressed the Start button and kept his attention out the windshield.

“You look nice,” I said to the window as I stared out into the darkness. It was a complete understatement. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a sexy cowboy calendar. The way his dark denim Wranglers hugged his ass was almost sinful, and the crisp, white, pearl snap shirt somehow brightened his already striking green eyes.

The corners of my lips dipped when he didn't respond or return the compliment. I cut my eyes to the driver side and found him gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

Whatever. I looked cute and wouldn't let him dampen the fun night ahead.

The second the thought crossed my mind, Brenton whipped the truck down an old county road and slammed on the brakes. He snapped off the headlights, dousing the entire area in darkness; only the faint glow from the navigation screen and controls on the dash highlighted the inside of the cab.

“If you don't want your panties ripped off your fine ass, I suggest you take them off. Now.”

My shocked gasp sounded over the arctic air conditioning blowing through the cab. Through the soft glow of the lights, he kept his eyes locked on mine while his hands blindly worked on his belt.

“I won't ask again, Rebeka.”

Not a single muscle responded. All I could do was watch his hand wrapped around his massive cock, squeezing so hard it looked painful. Wetness pooled between my legs at the sight. In a dense lust fog, my fingers fumbled with the seat belt latch, eager to get closer to him. The center console pushed into my ribs as I leaned over to the driver side.

---