Page 39 of Played
“Please, Malcolm. Cut the man some slack.” I wave him off. “After a few days, all of that drama died down and people moved on to the next story. Besides, the man put an actual bodyguard on my ass. What more did you want him to do?”
“Since he was responsible for them being on your ass in the first place? Be here himself to protect you.” He mugs Solomon, who slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and arches an eyebrow in reply.
What that man can say with one eyebrow lift is dissertation worthy.
“Listen, Malc—”
A large hand cuffing the back of my neck cuts off the you-doin’-too-much tirade on the tip of my tongue like Jason Voorhees in the middle of a summer-camp session. I know Malcolm’s protective, and that’s just one of the things I love about him, but damn! Doesn’t matter though. That heavy, firm grip on my nape has my thoughts playing a fucked-up game of Telephone. By the time theMove away!andTouching is bad!messages from my brain reach my nipples and pussy, they’ve morphed toSqueeze tighter!andWhat else those fingers do, tho?
My thirsty-ass body doesn’t give a damn that Solomon doesn’t want us like that. Just shameless.
“You don’t need to defend me, ma,” Solomon says. Goddamn. That deep voice should be packaged with batteries and stored in a bedside dresser drawer. “Ay, Malcolm, I get you wanting to protect your sister, and I commend that. And we can disagree on sports and anything else, but don’t ever accuse me of not covering one of mine. I couldn’t be here because I had away games. But she had one of the best in the business guarding her. She’s gonna always be good when it comes to me.”
Covering one of mine.
Always be good when it comes to me.
Most of my breath evaporates in my throat, and what’s left scorches the lining right off.Mine.Why that particular word echoes in my head and ping-pongs off my rib cage, I don’t even want to attempt to analyze. I don’t even want to touch on what it’s doing to my poor vagina.
The charade. It’s all for the charade,I remind myself with a ringing bitch slap. Don’t read anything else into it. He’s not busting me out, and I should just be thankful for that, since there’s nothing about Solomon Young that readsmagnanimous.
Still, Malcolm is Malcolm. And God love him, but it doesn’t take much to set off this man’s temper. He’d never put his hands on me—or any woman, for that matter—but Solomon is neither of those. And that mouth is reckless as hell.
Knowing this, I shift forward to place myself between Solomon and my brother.
Well, Itryto shift forward.
That hold on my neck tightens, preventing me from moving, andholy shit. I clench my teeth against the moan that trembles up from my stomach to the back of my throat, ready to spill out between my lips. While I trapped the audible sound, I can’t do a damn thing about the shiver that shudders through me. With his narrowed gaze fixed on Solomon, my brother doesn’t notice my body’s involuntary response. But no such luck with the man responsible for it. Next to me, his big frame stiffens. I’m so attuned to him that I pick up the nearly indiscernible reaction. He shifts behind me, coming closer to me so his chest grazes my shoulder blades. And there’snothingsubtle about the hard, thick length that nudges my lower back.
No. Nope. Uh-uh.
Not possible. Even as flames lick at the soles of my feet, the backs of my knees, and the sensitive lips of my pussy, I stand firm on my denial. Right now it’s not only the hill I’m willing to die on but the pyre I’m prepared to throw my carcass on and burn, Viking-style.
He doesn’t want me.
Solomon made that abundantly clear.
Thatthinghiding out in his jeans is a biological response. A fluke. Dicks gon’ dick, and they get hard for anything and everything.
“You’re lucky we’re in this firehouse,” Malcolm growls, anger flickering in his dark-brown gaze.
“We don’t have to be,” Solomon returns calmly.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
The arousal toying with me doesn’t take a back seat to annoyance; it just moves over.
“Okay, fine. You both have big dicks. Now, would you mind putting them away? Malcolm, stop antagonizing this man. He didn’t leave me high and dry, and you know that for yourself since you met Graham. And you.” I shoot a glance up and over my shoulder, meeting Solomon’s emerald eyes. “You will not invite my brother outside to fight like it’s three o’clock in the schoolyard. Your son is right over there, and something tells me he’d be mad as hell at you if you hit the fireman.”
Both men snort, and I shake my head.
“Malcolm, can you tell Jared I’m going to grab a couple of things for Khalil?” With one last death glare at Solomon, my brother gives me a nod, then heads off toward Jared. Turning around, I tilt my head. “You want to come with me or stay here?”
He mimics me, cocking his head. “I can play nice when I want to, li’l mama.”
Who wants that?
Please God save me from my inner heaux.
