Exposed (VIP, #4)

by Kristen Callihan

I want to be wanted. Craved above all things. Needed with a breathless devotion. I want to be seen, not just as a quick fix—but as something essential.

Every man has a weakness. Every dog has its day. Those two truths collided in spectacular fashion the second I learned that Brenna James—my one true weakness—is in desperate need of great sex. She aches for it. Every night. Goddamn, I’m still hard at the thought.

Her heels strike a click-click, clickety-click on the pavement. I hear that rhythm in my dreams sometimes. She’ll never know it, but that rhythm is the bass line for “Forget You.” No one will ever know that but me, though. A man has to keep some things to himself.

“Nothing is settled until you find what you need.” Red suffuses her cheeks. “Damn it, Rye—” “I want it to be me,” I blurt without any finesse. I breathe deep and say more calmly, “I want to be the one you use.”

“Blushing isn’t a flaw. It’s cute. Sexy.” And then he blushed. A soft wash of red across the tops of his cheeks and along the curve of his ears.

“Your pulse is racing,” he says. I can’t speak. Can’t move. Callused and warm, his big hand finds my smaller limp one. He gently presses my palm into the center of his wide chest. His heart pounds a frantic rhythm that matches my own. “Feel that? That’s just from standing close to you.” His voice vibrates against my neck, tickles along my nerve endings. “From me thinking about all the ways I could figure you out, find all the little things that will make you come.”

God. He isn’t supposed to say these things. We have a silent but very clear deal based on mutual loathing and avoidance.

“What bothers you more?” he murmurs idly. “Accepting that I might not be a total asshole? Or the possibility that we might start being nice to each other?”

“I’m not drunk,” she protests, taking the bait. “I’m simply…cocktail-induced happy.”

I gonna take my man home and ride him like a wild pony.”

“How the fuck…?” “Because I know you,” he says softly, firmly. “I’ve spent years trying not to learn you, and failing.”

“I’m good, Bren. I’ll do whatever you want, for as long as you want. I’ll make certain you’re taken care of, and I won’t tell a soul.” Jesus. I can’t breathe. “So selfless,” I murmur. “And what do you get out of all of this?” “You.” His fingers stroke my braid. “I get you.”

This big, beautiful man who has the power to both rock my world and destroy my peace of mind. “Tonight,” he says again. “I’m yours.” For the first time in my life, not only am I tempted to run toward my ruin, I’m anticipating it.

“I’m holding my skirt up. You’re going to have to put that big dick in me, buttercup.”

Everything is different. In the words of “Amazing Grace”: “I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.”

“It’s clear something is going on between you two.” “Plus,” Jax says. “And this is just a suggestion. If you don’t want anyone to know, you probably shouldn’t suck face in the kitchen during family dinner night.”

“So, yeah, I know. I know the risks better than you chuckleheads. But she’s finally let me in. And I’m going to take the chance, for however brief it might be. Even if I crash and burn and don’t survive the wreck. Because I can’t do anything less and still comfortably breathe.”

it’s like when Chris Evans went from wholesome, cute ‘how do you do, ma’am?’ Captain America, to ‘who’s your daddy, you’re gonna like the spanking I give you’ Cap.”

“When the stage lights go off, when the music stops, what am I? Where do I go?”

“We said we could have other days if needed.” His grip tightens on my sweater. “And, Bren, I fucking need.”

“Don’t baby me, Bren. I can’t handle your pity.” I’m already pulling down his half-open zipper. “I’m not going to baby you. I’m going to wrap your hands in a heating pad, then I’m going to trim that damn scraggly beard. After that, I might sit on that massive dick of yours and ride it for my pleasure, but we’ll have to see if you’re still being a grumpy ass.”

It will hit me that someone might listen to my music when I’m dead and gone, and I feel so fucking empty. Because I know my life will be over, and I wonder if I will ever…” He trails off, swallowing hard. My fingers toy with the short, silky strands of his hair. “Ever what?” A gust of breath tickles my neck. “Ever fill it with something more than just music.”

Sir Ryland, the noble sex knight. Able to tame the savage Brenna beast one orgasm at a time.” “That is painfully bad.”

“I wanted you,” I say. “Jesus, Bren. I wanted you so badly, it scared the hell out of me.”

“Do what you’ve got to in LA,” he says against my mouth. “And then come back to me.”

“Everything worth having is a risk.”

“You pay more attention than I thought,” I whisper thickly. The blunt, callused tips of his fingers caress my jaw. “When are you going to believe me? I notice everything about you, Berry.”

“Never be afraid to fly, Bren. Even if it takes you from all you know.”

“Music is part of your heart and soul, Rye. Whether you play or not, that will never change. You will always be able to express yourself through it and move people with your love of it.”

“I went to Chicago to try and distract myself while you were gone,” he says in the face of my silence. “I tried and failed. Because it hit me that where you are is where I want to be.”

Maybe we should take a step back and…and…” “And what?” “And evaluate things!” “It’s a relationship, not a marketing plan!”

You’re free and clear to…” His breath hitches, harsh and loud. “You’re free.” “Rye—No. Don’t. It can be a small break. I’ll go to LA, see how I feel—” “Bren. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be the one who holds you back. Not after all we’ve been through. You’re right. We should end this now before it hurts too much.”

“I told him some things were worth the risk of losing them. He thought you were worth it.”

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, almost lightly, like he’s not slicing into my heart. “I’ve spent my entire adult life either wanting you or wanting to forget you.”

“You and Rye are together now?” I hadn’t expected that, and it takes me a second to answer. “We’re friends.” “Brenna, the way that man looks at you is not that of a friend.” “We barely look at each other.” “And in those non-looks, everything is exposed. He is either in love with you or falling fast.”

“It’s simple. Do you want this man as your friend or as your everything?”

“I thought loving someone was supposed to be easy.” Isabella shakes her head slowly. “My dear, I was talking about loving yourself. If you don’t do that first, you’re always going to push away those who try to love you.”

“You once thought I was worth the risk—” My voice breaks then finds strength. “You’re worth it too. I don’t want to just be your friend, Rye. I want…I want to be yours. I want you to be mine. Wherever I land, whatever I’m doing. Because I…I adore you, Ryland Peterson.”

“I’m saying it here, in front of everyone we love, because you deserve that. I forced you to hide our relationship from them, like a dirty secret. When you’re…You’re the best man I know, and I’d…I’d be honored to be even a small part of your life. Though, you should know, I want everything. If you’ll…if you’ll have me.”

“I always was.” I can’t quite make my mouth work correctly. “Always was what?” “Yours.” Tender hands cup my cheeks. “I’ve always been yours. And you…You already are my everything. You’re my music, Bren.”

I’m his music. And he’s my wings.

Faintly, I hear Killian mutter, “And the world was never the same again.”

“I bumbled through the first half. I’m sorry.” “I’m not. Thank you.” Her lips quirk with an uncertain smile. “You’re thanking me for a badly worded public confession?” “Yes. My heart was broken. You made it whole again.”

“No ass for you, big guy.” He grabs said ass and gives it a fond squeeze. “Now, Brenna, you know we both win when you give me this fine ass.”

“Wings, Bren. So you’ll never forget how far you can fly.”