Laid Bare Page 2

He knew they played in a band. He’d seen Erin walking in and out of the apartment with a guitar case, and her brother often had black equipment cases as well. And a woman couldn’t get away with looking the way she did without being in a band or something equally unconventional.

Still, it worked on her. The dreads, the tattoos and the piercings didn’t make her look hard. They made her look exotic and raw. She was a walk on the wild side and he’d always avoided that sort of thing.

He was a cop. He listened to country music and drove a big truck. She had belly tattoos and played guitar. He went out with nice, quiet women who wore pink dresses and let him open the door. Women who responded gently in bed. Todd bet Erin f**ked like the rockstar she embodied. He bet she was loud and demanding. Pushy, probably.

Not that he thought about what she’d be like in bed. Much. It was taboo, that had to be it.

Erin went inside, slamming the door in her wake. God, why did that cop have to look so damned good? All masculine and clean-cut in his jeans and snug cotton shirt. He was so earnest with his big, white smile and his good manners. Not her usual type at all, but he sure did fill out the aforementioned jeans. Right into her masturbatory fantasies.

The guy watched her every night when she got home from work. Sometimes she thought she saw interest in his eyes. Other times she thought he was just making sure she didn’t steal anything.

Tonight as he stood there in bare feet, his dark brown hair looking soft and sexy, still wet from his shower, she was pretty sure it was the latter.

In fact, he’d looked practically panicked when she impulsively invited him to their party. Stupid. It so was not his scene, but she wanted to talk to him. To hear the smooth and yet rough voice; to see that slight afternoon beard shadowing his jaw. There was something about him, just beneath the surface. An edge she was dying to expose and rub herself against like a cat.

“Oh for f**k’s sake! God, Erin, just do the man already. Watching the two of you circle each other pretending not to be interested has ceased to be amusing and now chaps my ass.”

“Evening, Adrian.” Ignoring his comment, Erin sauntered into the living room, where her younger brother sat re-stringing her guitar. A bottle of ginger brew sweated at his right hand, as Tool played in the background.

“I tuned it for you while I was at it.” He put her beloved Fender P-Bass back in the case and flipped the latches closed. “And I’m serious. What’s stopping you? If this guy was some dude at any of the clubs we played or the coffee shop, you’d have turned the full power of your magic on him and bagged him by now. What’s so different about the cop?”

“I don’t think he’s interested, Aid.” She plopped into a chair across from him.

“He think he’s too good for you?” His deep green eyes narrowed.

Erin laughed at how protective he sounded. “I think I freak him out. I invited him tonight and you’d have thought I asked him to eat kittens in puff pastry.”

Adrian shrugged. “Maybe so, but the dude watches you every night when you get home. And not like a stalker. Believe me, I’ve checked. I’d squash him like a bug if that were the case, cop or not. No, he likes to look at you because he’s interested. You want him, you take him. He should be so lucky to have a woman like you.”

“Aww, thank you.” For a man who had spent most of his life until adulthood and then some tormenting her, he could really be a sweetie pie sometimes. She stood again. “I’m gonna shower and get ready. Brody is due by with food and drinks in an hour.”

Adrian shook his head sadly and then raised his eyebrow in challenge. “I’ve never thought of you as a quitter.”

He knew her vulnerable spots. She’d never let him call her a punk and a quitter. It was on.

2

For the next week Erin tried to ignore the eyes watching her every night, but it was futile. Adrian knew exactly what to say to push her buttons. Quitter indeed! She wasn’t a quitter, damn it.

Finally, Friday night she took off her bra, smeared on some cherry red lip gloss and stomped downstairs, condoms tucked into her pocket.

Adrian waited for her at the bottom with a six-pack of beer in one hand. “Finally. Took you long enough.” He handed the beer her way. “Take it. An ice breaker. Invite him to the gig tomorrow.”

“You’re weird. I thought brothers were supposed to pretend their sisters were sexless.” She took the beer and kissed his cheek.

“I’m your brother, not an idiot. If he hurts you, I’ll crush him, but I want you to be happy. You want him and that’s enough for me.”

Warmth settled inside as she hugged him quickly. She’d lucked out with both her brothers. Good men. They’d saved each other after their parents had died. “Thank you.”

“Go on now. Let’s not spoil this by making me think about any details.” Adrian winked and she left.

Erin slid into her stage persona. Pulled it on like a costume and felt the confidence roar through her as she sauntered over to Todd’s front door and knocked.

He opened up and started a moment before catching himself. But not fast enough that she didn’t catch the perusal from toes to eyes.

She gestured toward him with the beer. “So, you know what? I’m thinking we live next door, and other than the few times we’ve spoken here and there around the neighborhood, we’ve never shared a beer and hung out.”

He opened his mouth to speak and settled for nodding. Ha!

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