Home > Dirty Tricks (The Burke Brothers, #4)

Dirty Tricks (The Burke Brothers, #4)
Author: Emma Hart


 


Kye

FIVE WEEKS EARLIER

Chelsey slams the door of her apartment and turns to me, her blue eyes blaring in the low light from the lamp on the side table. “Take off your clothes.”

I raise one eyebrow. I’ve had the hots for this girl for at least four years, and she thinks that she can tell me what to do? Hell fucking no. I take two steps toward her, closing the distance between us. “No, babe. That isn’t how we do this.”

She shakes her head, her giggle a little drunken. “No, it is. We take off our clothes and then we fuck. And then you fuck off.” She giggles again.

At least we’re agreed on that point.

“Then why,” I whisper into her ear, ghosting my lips across her cheek, “are you still dressed?”

She shoves me away and bends forward. She grabs the hem of her dress and pulls it up her body, over her head. It flies across the room and lands on the arm of the sofa. “I’m not.”

The words have barely left her lips when she grabs the front of my shirt and yanks me toward her, hesitating for a second before kissing me. She tastes like the cranberry vodka she’s been drinking all night, and the kiss is a useless distraction from her attempt to remove my shirt.

I break the kiss, tug off my shirt, then with my eyes burning into her, I wrap my hands around the back of her neck and pull her into me. She melts under the force of my mouth, her nails digging into my arms as I push her back against the door.

My cock strains against my zipper, begging me to set it free. She gasps as it pushes against her lower stomach. Hell, I gasp, too. She feels so soft compared to me. Her skin is so smooth, and when I’m done with her, every inch of it will be slicked with sweat.

She nips my lower lip and grins. I swing her around and yank her across the spacious apartment to where I assume her bedroom is. She guides me toward the right door and reaches behind her to open it, keeping her eyes on me. She’s surprisingly focused, and when she runs her tongue along her lower lip, there’s no more time for playing.

I throw her onto her bed and kiss her feverishly. I guess this is what happens when you’ve lusted after a chick for a long fucking time and finally get her under you in nothing but lacy black underwear.

Underwear that’s about to be gone.

I kiss, lick, and nip my way down her body, exploring the curvature of her neck with my tongue, teasing her nipples with my lips, until my mouth is level with the waistband of her panties. She gasps as I remove them, sliding them down her long, smooth legs and dropping them to the floor.

Her lips part in a gasp as mine make contact with her wet pussy. She writhes beneath me as my tongue explores the heart of her. Her hands scratch at the bedding, grabbing desperately, her moans getting louder and louder as I edge her closer and closer to orgasm.

Fuck, those little moans are driving me insane. I’ve looked at her so many damn times and wondered how she’d sound with her body at my mercy. So many times I’ve wanted to hear the sweet yet desperate cries fall from between those lips because of me.

I’m certain she’s on the brink of her pleasure when she abruptly jerks away from me and slides down the bed. Her fingers are at my pants and undoing the fly before I’ve had a chance to comprehend what’s happening.

I can’t hold in my sigh of relief as she frees my cock from the restraint of my clothing.

I sigh even fucking harder when she closes her sweet mouth around it and sucks.

My hands go to her head as she swivels her tongue around the tip of my cock. Fuck, if I’d known this was how my night would end when I approached her in the bar, all brooding and angry, I wouldn’t have spent half an hour weighing the pros and cons. If I knew a blow job was guaranteed, I’d have gone to her sooner.

Not that I have a single fucking clue why she was pissed off, mind you. Just figured she needed some cheering up. So here I am. Cheering her up while she sucks my cock like a little champ.

Her hand wraps around the base, and I close my eyes as pleasure weaves its way through my body. My dick throbs in her mouth, and I let her continue until every muscle is tight and I can’t take it anymore.

I pull her mouth away and reach into my pocket for a condom. Once I’ve got it from my wallet, I roll it on, kick my pants off all the way, and push Chelsey back up the bed. I knee open her legs as she moans “finally” and position myself against her wet pussy.

I look into her eyes as I push into her.

She’s so fucking tight and wet, and I know this: the way it feels to be hugged by her is like nothing I’ve ever felt.

And as I pound into her with my jaw tight and she grabs at me as her back arches, I know this is the kind of fuck that’ll haunt my dreams.

 

 

Chelsey

“Johnny, I swear to God, I don’t give a shit if you’re shipping off to the Middle East or to your nana’s backyard, you make one more comment about my tits and I’m going to shove your beer bottle so far up your ass you’re gonna be shitting it out next week.”

The black-haired marine holds his hands up and laughs. “Now, Chels, you know me, darlin’.”

I give him a pointed look and pause while wiping off the glass. “Exactly. Now y’all take your beers and behave.”

Like Johnny Evans and Co. could ever behave themselves. I’m almost certain that he deliberately screws around when he’s on leave to make up for how disciplined he has to be in his job.

“Behave . . .” Leila Burke muses, taking a seat on the stool just in front of me. I glance up, and her eyes flit from Johnny to me. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

I hold my hands up to signal my agreement, then reach for a wineglass. “Yeah, I know. But if he’s a prick later, I can remind everyone that I warned him.”

“If he’s a prick?” She raises a dark eyebrow. “When he’s a prick. The guy gives Tate a run for his money.”

Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Leila, no one gives Tate a run for his money. Not even your other brothers.” I pour her a glass of wine and set it in front of her.

“Yeah, I don’t know. Right now, Mom might be winning. She seems to be struggling with the fact that her last baby is looking for a place to live that isn’t his current bedroom.”

“Her last baby? Did she forget you?”

“Apparently,” she says dryly. “When I left, Mom had Kye cornered and was touting all the perks of living at home. Including home-cooked meals nightly, getting his laundry done, and not having to worry about all the bills. I think she’s trying to scare him into staying.”

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