Page 6 of Stone Cold Bad (Stone Brothers #1)

FIVE

JADE

T he evening had been a blur, the nightmarish events swirled in with a green eyed stranger who was anything but a nightmare.

The same man was stretched out next to me under the blanket.

The drop in body temperature and shots of whiskey had knocked me nearly senseless.

I’d slept soundly in his arms as the fishing trawler crept back to their hometown marina.

I vaguely remembered lifting my head to look around, only to be met with the same thick fog we’d traveled through.

But the town smelled different. It smelled lighter, less oppressive, but I was sure that was only because I was now a good distance away from Ray.

I stared over at the man. I still hadn’t even learned his name.

He had a beautiful profile to go with the rest of his beautiful self.

The night before, he had carried me all the way from the marina to their truck as if I weighed nothing more than the crinkly silver blanket I was wrapped in.

After I’d nearly frozen to death in the ocean, his body heat had felt like the greatest, most luxurious blanket, and I couldn’t bear to part with it.

I’d clung to him like a barnacle on a ship hull.

And after he lowered me onto his bed, in the shadows of his room, I watched him strip down to his boxer briefs.

Heat had swirled through my body then too, but a different kind of heat, like the kind that had washed over me in the utility closet when he’d boldly pressed his hand between my legs.

His finely chiseled arms, shoulders and stomach had become part of my dreams. I had been weak and out of it, but he hadn’t tried anything.

Instead, he’d stretched out under the cover and wrapped me in that same delicious body heat, making me feel as if I’d never be cold again.

Daylight was pouring in through the tattered curtains covering his window.

It was a sparsely furnished room, with a single, equally tattered dresser.

There was a chair that looked as if it had seen better days sitting in front of a desk that had a laptop and nothing more.

Dirty clothes and socks on the floor made me pretty confident that he didn’t have a woman living with him.

But I was sure plenty of them had passed through his bedroom door. Possibly even fifty-two.

The bed creaked as he turned, and his big arm came down across me. His eyes popped open as if he’d suddenly remembered I was there. His eye color changed according to the light shining on them. This morning they were more green than gray, and they were spectacular.

“Hey, it’s my saltwater soaked angel. How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks to your body heat.”

“Happy to share.” He grew quiet. We both did.

A warm tension filled the small space between us.

Beneath the covers he reached across and trailed his callused fingers along my side.

My breath was immediately ragged as I thought about the night before when, in the middle of my stressful evening, he’d so deftly made me come.

And in a utility closet, no less. Now those magical hands and fingers were under the covers with me, and we were dressed only in our underwear.

There was no way to tell myself anything different. I wanted him to touch me again.

He must have sensed it. He watched my face over the pillow, either for my reaction or a sign that I wanted him to stop, as his fingers slid my bra strap off my shoulder. He pulled it down to expose my breast. Then his gaze dropped from my face to my chest.

“Hmm, had a feeling they’d be as hot as the rest of you.

” He teased my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I drew in a stuttering breath.

All I could think about was the way those fingers had strummed my pussy so perfectly; I could think of nothing else but reaching climax.

Even when his brother had walked in on us, my mind had been too set on finishing to care.

He leaned over and pressed his mouth against my nipple, still teasing it but now using his teeth and tongue. From the way my body reacted, it was obvious that his magic skills went way beyond his hands. I reached up and tangled my fingers in his long black hair and held his face closer to me.

Heat swirled through me, and my pussy pulsed with moisture.

The entire thing was surreal. I was no longer in Ray’s control.

I knew I wasn’t free of him, but for the moment, I was away from him.

And now I was in a strange room, in a strange town, and I was readily submitting to a guy whose name I didn’t even know.

That thought suddenly struck me as funny. I laughed.

He pulled my nipple between his lips before releasing it. He looked up at me. “Have to say, I don’t usually get that reaction when I have a nipple between my teeth.”

“It’s just— I don’t even know your name. It seemed kind of comical. Or maybe it was just a nervous laugh.”

“I’m Colton but people call me Colt.” He reached up to shake hands.

I put my hand in his. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jade.”

He gripped my hand and pulled me against his hard body. “Very fucking nice to meet you, Jade.” He leaned his mouth toward mine.

The bedroom door burst open, and a girl with short copper hair and a pretty face, who looked as if she’d lived a hard life and weathered it all with confidence, strolled in. She had a tiny gold hoop in her nose and a tattoo of a dragonfly on her neck. I pulled away from Colt’s arms.

Colt rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his forearm. “Fuck, Street, why the hell are you in here?”

She winked at me as she crawled on top of him straddling his hips with long, suntanned thighs. Her midriff top barely covered the bottom of her bra. “Come on, Colt, you always love to see my bright smiling face in the morning.”

He lowered his arm. “No, I fucking don’t. Especially this morning.”

His words didn’t make her leave or even take pause for a second.

“Hunter said you had a new friend who might need some clothes to wear.” She reached over and held out her hand.

“I’m Amy, by the way. Not Street.” She smacked Colt’s chest, and he flinched.

“They’ve called me Street Corner Girl since I was twelve.

I used to sell lemonade on the street corner to try and earn a little cash.

And when nobody bought lemonade, I started selling kisses.

Earned enough for a bicycle. But the Stone brothers have never let me forget it.

Even though they were my best customers. ”

I pulled my arm from the covers. “I’m Jade.”

Amy’s brow creased. She wriggled her ass on top of Colt. She reached between her legs and rubbed her palm over the blanket. “Oh wow, Colt, you should do something about ole Mr. Woody here.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was working on before you burst in here with your annoying sing-song voice.”

Amy was bold and funny and I already liked her. She reached down and grabbed the blanket. Before I could protest, she yanked it back and surveyed my body. “Yep, looks like we wear the same size.”

“Yep, you’re fucking identical,” Colt said. “Only she has tits in a place where you just have two dots like someone drew them in with a pencil.”

“Someone is extra mean and grumpy this morning.” Amy released the cover, and I pulled it back over me.

“I wonder why. Now get out,” Colt said.

“Yes, sir.” Amy looked at me. “I stuck your boots out in the sun to dry. Those are cool. I’ve always wanted a pair like that.”

“Thanks, that was really nice of you. They’re my favorite.”

Amy climbed off and sifted through some of the dirty clothes on the floor. She pressed one t-shirt to her face, breathed in and scrunched up her face in disgust. She tossed it at Colt. “Shit, you need to burn that one.”

“Street, I swear to god I’m going to?—”

She totally ignored him and picked up another shirt. She pressed it to her face. “It’ll have to do.” She tossed it to me. “Put this on. You look hungry.”

“I could eat,” I said.

“Good, I brought some muffins. Do you like blueberry muffins? These guys don’t. They don’t like anything that isn’t covered in bacon grease and hot sauce.”

“I like muffins.” I sat up to pull on the shirt.

Colt propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Amy. “I need to put a fucking lock on that door.”

I pulled on the t-shirt.

“Looks good,” Amy said. “Let’s go.”

Colt looked up at me. I shrugged and kissed his forehead. “Thanks again for the body heat.”

“Fucking great.” He collapsed back.

I followed Amy out to the kitchen. The kitchen was smaller than Ray’s walk-in closet.

Of course a primping rooster like Ray had an unusually big collection of clothes.

He’d had an extra large closet built to accommodate his fashion obsession.

That was something that had always made me cringe— his time in front of the mirror.

Once I’d told him he was like a thirteen-year-old girl with the way he was always standing in front of the mirror.

He’d backhanded me before I had a chance to move out of his reach.

My lips swelled up, and I’d never teased him again.

But inside my head, I was always having a good laugh.

Four mismatched chairs, one with a leg that was duct taped in several places, sat around a plastic table, the kind you’d find out on a patio instead of inside a kitchen.

Dishes were piled high, and rather than wash them, someone had bought an extra large package of paper plates.

There was a white bakery bag in the center of the table and a Styrofoam cup with steaming coffee.

“Pull up a chair, but avoid that one.” She pointed to the one with tape. “Do you want some coffee?”

“That’d be great.”

“Don’t be shy. Grab a muffin. You’ll find in this house, if you don’t get grabby with the food, you’ll end up with crumbs.” She turned to the sink and rinsed a cup out. She sat down across from me and poured half the coffee into the cup.