Ready For It (MacAteer Brothers Book 2) Read online

  I think Owen sensed the panic attack battle that brewed inside me, because he took over. He jerked a nod at my parents and took my arm. “Food.”

  That was enough to break me out of the downward spiral. I smiled up at him. God, it’s so nice to have someone taller than me! “Okay, O-man. Buffet is right over there. Gotta feed my big man and my little one.”

  Deloris gasped at the pregnancy reminder and plastered a big smile across her pained face to cover up her slip. My father didn’t react. Too far beneath him.

  The buffet contained lots of artfully prepared food bits that were more show than substance. More cucumber stars, stuffed olives, cubes of different cheeses, tiny rounds of mini quiches, triangles of stuffed spanakopita, everything light and pretty, and no bigger than a bite. Owen eyed the offerings and said nothing. He handed me one of the small party plates and started filling one for himself.

  “We can go for burgers later if you want. My treat.”

  He shrugged and popped a quiche in his mouth. “Won’t starve.”

  His short answers bothered me some. He’d been talking more and more to me in the last weeks but hadn’t said much since we got here. I hoped it was only his nerves from being at the party and not nerves from being at the party with me.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” The loud, cutting voice startled me enough that I dropped the bite I’d picked up. Shit, Magnus had decided to make an appearance.

  “I’m here at Mother’s request. She left me four messages just yesterday telling me I had to be here today, so I came.”

  “Yeah, right. Any excuse to embarrass the family further, eh, Melanie?”

  “I’m not embarrassing anyone. She won’t let up when she wants something. It’s better to be here than deal with the fallout next week. You know that.”

  “All I know is you have no business showing your face. I talked to Peter, and he filled me in.”

  That panicky feeling came racing back up my spine. “I haven’t seen Peter in months. He has nothing to do with anything.”

  A waiter came up with a tumbler similar to my father’s. Magnus grabbed it without looking at or thanking the man and took a long drink. From the glazed look in his eyes, this wasn’t the first one. “He told me about your bitch fit in a public place and how you tried to pawn your bastard off on him.”

  “You weren’t there and didn’t see what happened. He insulted me enough to deserve a face-full of coffee.”

  “Insulted you? You’re the one who got knocked up.”

  “I didn’t do it by myself.”

  “That’s your problem, Melanie. You always blame someone else for your shortcomings. You never take responsibility for anything. You were a burden as a child and a burden now.” He took a big sip of his drink. “Christ, when I think about the trouble you’ve caused this family, I want to vomit. You’re nothing but a goddamn slut. Makes me sick you’re such a waste of space.”

  My gut churned, making me want to vomit myself. My older brother had considered me the ruin of his life since my birth. I couldn’t recall one happy brother-sister moment, only memories of his constant criticism and abuse. Not pretty enough. Not smart enough. Not talented or special. Too tall. Too skinny. Too emotional. Waste of space. Waste of space. Waste of fucking space!

  A memory flashed before my eyes. One I’d rather forget.

  I floated in the pool on one of the air-filled lounge chairs, my eyes covered in Oakley Wayfarer sunglasses, and a cold glass of iced tea in the cup holder. The sun beat down on my dozing twelve-year-old body. This year there had been many changes in me, both physical and mental, and they happened fast. My height shot up five inches, making me clumsy when I moved. I bumped into doors or rails, spilled glasses at the dinner table, and knocked over things while trying to control my longer legs and arms. Magnus sneered at me with disgust most of the time at my awkwardness, which made me more self-conscious. I grew breasts almost overnight, two big fleshy balls that hurt a lot and were still getting bigger. Bee-Dee helped me get bras that fit and kept them contained, but I still had other kids at school stare and make fun of me. Worst of all, I had my first period. Thank God that started here at home one weekend with no one at home but Bee-Dee and me. The bloody mess and pain had me thinking I was dying, but Bee-Dee explained what was going on with my body and showed me what I needed. Mom shrugged when I told her about my experience. I didn’t really expect any other reaction.

  School had ended for the year, and I had all summer to lounge in the pool, work on my tan, and go shopping. Mom might not want me around, but I had friends that did. More than likely because of my rich girl status and because they had crushes on Magnus. Whatever the reason, at last I found myself in a group. I’d also found Ms. Blessing, my math teacher. Most seventh graders hated math with a passion, but I loved numbers. Simple, exact, and structured. Two and two always equaled four. We studied pre-algebra in preparation for next year, and I couldn’t wait until fall for that class. English and social studies? Nah. Give me more math.

  My half-asleep mind floated along with my body, thinking about clothes and what the new fall trends would be, when a loud voice startled me, almost sending me into the water. I froze instead.

  “Damn, Magnus. When did your sister grow that rack? Bet you could shelve books on those things.”

  I kept still, hoping they thought I slept on, but opened my eyes to see Robert Corrigan, Archie Mayhew, and Magnus standing at the edge of the pool. The black of my sunglasses kept them from noticing I was awake.

  All three were dressed in golf clothes, and I guessed they were coming back from a game at the country club. Magnus got a brand-new car for his birthday, and he and his friends spent hours driving around in the gorgeous red Saab convertible. I never asked him to take me for a ride. I already knew the answer he would give.

  Robert spoke again. “She got hair on her pussy yet?”

  Magnus frowned at him. “How the fuck should I know? I try not to be around her any more than I have to.”

  “Just wondering how ripe that cherry is.”

  Robert laughed. The look in his eyes made me uncomfortably aware of my near-naked state. I wore my favorite pink bikini that showed a lot of skin to get as much of me tanned as possible. Now I wished I had donned my frumpy one-piece suit. I wasn’t stupid. Bee-Dee had explained to me about sex and boys and more changes that would be coming. I knew what pussy, rack, fuck, cherry, cunt, ass, dick, and cock meant from older kids at school. Lying there on the raft in the middle of the pool, I was conscious of my body being displayed. Hearing Robert use those dirty words in reference to me scared me. Fear bloomed in my bare stomach, and I had to concentrate hard to keep still and not tremble. I didn’t know what else to do. Go away, go away, go away, I chanted over and over in my head.

  Archie answered my silent prayer. “Fuck, Rob, she’s only twelve. Give her a few years before you go after that fruit. Let’s drive over to my place and play video games. My parents aren’t home from their cruise, and the liquor cabinet is full.”

  The raft started to spin away from them in the current. I held my breath as they faded from my sight. If I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me, right?

  Robert laughed again as they moved off. “What do you think, Magnus, old buddy? Mind if I bang your little sister sometime?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you do. She’s useless as it is. Fucking waste of space.”

  Right then, the universe decided to fuck with me some more. My head swiveled as if controlled by something else, and my eyes locked onto a figure on the other side of the fountain. Robert stood there with a model-thin blonde next to him glittering in a white sheath dress and heels more suited to a formal evening than an afternoon party. If this was Kiki, his third wife, whatever weight he claimed she had gained at the July festival certainly didn’t show much to me. Prick! Maybe I’d mail her one of my bottles of lavender body spray.

  Robert paid no attention to his wife or the man who spoke to him. His eyes were o
n me. Watching. He lifted his glass in salute and stared at me over the rim. He had the same smug look on his face he’d perfected years ago. One I wanted to tear off with my nails. The man speaking noticed Robert’s distraction and turned to see what held his interest. I barely recognized Archie. The years had not been so good to him. His round stomach stuck out, straining the buttons on his shirt and forcing his jacket to stay open. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost his neck and now sported a long sag of flesh that hung from his chin. The wispy hair left on his head attempted to cover his pink scalp with an artful combover. The effort was wasted.

  I tore my eyes away and clutched at Owen’s arm like a lifeline. “How ’bout not airing my private business in public, Mags.”

  “How ’bout keeping your legs closed for a change.”

  Direct hit. The world saw me as a kick-ass, take no prisoners, tough wonder woman. Within these walls, I turned back into that scared, vulnerable, tongue-tied twelve-year-old. My heart rate doubled as my head filled with a silent roar of white noise. The world condensed into a pinprick, and I broke out in a cold sweat. Fuck, Melanie, where are your fucking balls?

  I didn’t have to find them. Owen brought his to the party. The plate he held dropped and shattered on the decking, and my grip broke as both his arms shot out. One hand grabbed Magnus’s shirt in a tight fist and the other his throat. Owen was both taller and wider than Magnus and had no trouble body-slamming my brother onto the buffet table. Food trays flew everywhere, splattering the surrounding people. Gasps and screams erupted from the crowd, and the quartet stopped playing. Neither Robert nor Archie moved to help their friend, perhaps too stunned that anyone would dare call him out on his actions.

  Magnus choked and pulled at the iron-band arms that held him down. Owen didn’t seem fazed at all by the struggling man beneath him.

  “Stop.” The word exploded from Owen, even startling me. I’d never heard this gentle giant raise his voice or even get annoyed. The volume of that single word showed the amount of anger in the man. Magnus stilled and waited under Owen’s grip.

  “Apologize.”

  A red-faced, food-covered Magnus tried to brazen it out. He thrashed again on the table and sent more plates, canapes, and garnishes to the littered floor. “You fucking bastard,” he garbled, “I’ll fucking have you arrested for assault. I’ll sue you for every penny you have and will ever earn!”

  Owen smiled. “Bring it.”

  My parents showed up. Mother stood there crying and ringing her hands. “Oh my, how could you, Melanie? Why do you bring such destruction everywhere you go?”

  “Let go of him, or I’ll call the police.” Why did my father’s threat seem so empty?

  Owen’s grip around Magnus’s throat strengthened, and my brother stopped fighting. He stilled and glared at Owen with pure hatred. Owen didn’t move. “Apologize. Now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Fuck me, Magnus gave in. My brother, who never in his life got held accountable for his words or actions, apologized to me. Yes, it was under duress and he probably didn’t mean it, but the fact he did it shocked me. A weight lifted from my shoulders, and I straightened my back. I couldn’t remember another time in my life someone stood up for me against my family. Bee-Dee tried to protect me as best she could, but no one had ever taken on my brother and won.

  Owen let go of Magnus and moved back as my brother rolled off the table. His immaculate designer suit was covered in colorful bits of food. He coughed and staggered upright, stumbling and slipping in the mess as he tried to regain his composure. “You’re gonna regret this.”

  Somehow Owen had remained clean throughout the drama. “Useless prick.”

  He took my hand and started walking away, leading me gently. As he approached my parents, he paused. Mother whimpered in fear and hid behind my father. He stood stock-still with his usual stone face. I had no idea what emotions flowed behind that rigid mask of his.

  Owen looked him in the eye with barely a glance at my mother. His hand came up and a finger pointed at my father. “Your daughter. Shame on you.”

  The only reaction from my father was a slight tightening of his lips. Deloris gasped and clutched at her neck. Drama queen all the way.

  The weight of a hundred eyes rested on me in silent judgement as Owen led me from that place. Some pain infused my heart, but for years, I’d taking verbal abuse from my brother. My mother never had been the classroom participation mom, so there was no maternal closeness between us. My father? I might as well not have one. The numbness in my brain flowed through my nerves. No thoughts. No anger. No regrets even. That lack of emotion brought me resolution. I. Was. Done.

  We got to the truck. Owen still vibrated with fury as he lifted me into the cab. Rage poured off him in waves, and his face stayed taut. He climbed in on his side and slammed the door shut. His hands grabbed the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip.

  “Owen?”

  “Need a minute.”

  Silence filled the cab of the truck. I fidgeted for a few moments before trying again.

  “Owen? O-man?”

  He brought his eyes to mine, and I would swear I heard the crack of the lightning that zapped between us. His body leaned toward me, but he didn’t have to go far, as I met him halfway, my mouth slamming on his with sheer need. Our positions in the cab made the kiss awkward as hell, but the passion behind it eclipsed any difficulty. I sucked at his lips, and his tongue plunged between mine, licking and taking over. My heart raced, and I grabbed at his shirt, fighting the pull of the seat belt. Fuck, if we were anywhere else, I would have mounted him right then and there.

  “Take me home.” I managed to pant. His eyes were shining with his own need, and his breath labored heavily. He pulled back and, without a word, started the truck.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Owen watched as Melanie fumbled at the lock. His breath sawed in and out of his chest, making it ache. On the drive from her parents’ place to her home, she’d scooted as close to him as possible on the bench seat of his truck, her hand on his crotch keeping his dick at rigid attention. He’d thought she would crawl in his lap if there had been enough room. When she pulled down his zipper to free him, he’d almost driven off the road.

  “Easy, Mel.”

  “I don’t want easy.” Her throaty voice had sent his body into overdrive.

  She finally got the door to her condo open, and both of them stumbled inside. Owen barely got the door closed before she launched herself at him. Her hand hiked the long skirt up around her hips, and she wrapped her legs around him. He caught her with his hands under her ass, and she leaned in for a long kiss.

  “Mel, slow down.”

  “I don’t want slow.”

  She wants this. She wants me.

  He got them over to the granite counter and planted her on it. She pulled at his shoulders and tightened her thighs to keep him from moving away. As if he wanted to. He focused solely on the woman pressed against him, hyperaware of everything. Her stiff nipples, her writhing body, her stroking hands on his back. She was turned on big-time and not afraid to show it to him.

  She bit his lower lip and drew it into her mouth, and he groaned at the electric line that shot straight to his dick. Her hand came up and yanked down one dress and bra strap, baring herself to him. The rosy nipple beckoned. He took the hint and lowered his head, drawing that tight peak into his mouth and pressing it with his tongue. He heard her gasp and felt her arch as she leaned back, pushing her breast further between his lips. She bared her other breast, and he switched sides. His hand came up to pull and play with one nipple while he sucked and stroked the other. His dick was so hard it hurt.

  I need to taste her. I need to go down on her and feel her come.

  “Fuck me, Owen. Just fuck me.” Her breathy demand sounded in his ear. She reached down to cup him in her hand, and he almost came in his pants.

  He pulled back from her grip and pushed his hand between her legs, feeling the wet crotch of he
r panties. His thumb pressed against her distended clit, and she cried out at the contact. She writhed against him like a cat in heat, demanding his attention. He took her wrists, pulled them away from his hard dick, and gently pushed them behind her back. This made her arch backward, presenting her bared breasts higher. Her whimpers of need shot straight to his dick. He didn’t know how much more he could take.

  He leaned back in so their mouths were just inches apart, and his eyes locked with hers. She panted as the heat between them ramped up. There were words he wanted to say, wanted to ask, but the intensity of the moment was too much, and he couldn’t find the right ones. He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t fuck her. Not like this. Maybe tonight was his one shot, but he wanted to be more than a scratch to her itch.

  “Do it, Owen. I need this. I need you, baby. Don’t leave me hanging.”

  He transferred her wrists to one hand, and the other hand moved back between her legs. A finger hooked in her panties and pulled the material away, exposing her hot core. This time when he touched her, nothing sat between his skin and hers. He stroked between the drenched folds and found the hard nub of her clit.

  “Yes! Fuck, yes!” She arched further, leaning back and granting him open access.

  He slid a blunt finger inside her channel, and she shuddered as his thumb circled her clit again. Her knees spread farther apart, and he looked down to watch his digit enter her body. Her hips flexed, and she ground against his hand as he brought her higher. He pushed in as deep as he could and felt the waves of her orgasm as she came. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to feel this around his dick. He imagined what it would be like. To be in a bed, their bed, making love as many times as they could. Then taking a break for food or something and going back for more.

  He released her wrists and stepped back. The hard outline in his pants wasn’t going away and the soft look of satisfaction on her face made it worse. He mumbled, “Excuse me,” and walked to her bedroom in search of the bathroom, hampered by his heavy erection. Once he found the bathroom, he closed the door and opened his zipper, letting his dick spring out in relief. Déjà vu struck him as once again he stroked himself to release. Blood rushed from his head, and he gulped in huge amounts of air as his balls tightened up and his spine tingled. It didn’t take long for him to come, spraying into a wad of toilet paper.