Baby Bargain (Winston Brothers Book 3)

  Chapter One

  Mel

  Every unattached woman – and even some of the attached ones -- turn to watch the three extremely attractive men walk through the bar. In my head, all I can see is heart-eye emojis all over the room. The image has me snickering, but I can’t blame them all for swooning. Two are the epitome of tall, dark and handsome, while the third has light hair and dark eyes. He’s the one that draws my attention whenever we’re in the same room.

  Unlike his brothers, who have super serious, brooding looks on their faces, he’s sporting a huge grin. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s almost three years younger than me, I’d jump him in a heartbeat. I mean, you can tell just by looking at him he knows exactly what he’s doing when he takes a woman to bed.

  I’d kill for even one night with a guy who can find my clit without needing Google Maps and a freaking neon sign.

  The three of them step up to the table, and I swear I can hear sighs from every other woman in here when they realize they aren’t the ones the brothers are after. Naturally, Reed goes straight to Fallon, wrapping his arms around her and engaging in some serious PDA. I kinda want to warn him that getting naked in public is against the law, and not something the rest of us at the table want to see. I love my best friend but have zero interest in watching her have sex… no matter how hot the guy she’s screwing on a more-than-regular basis is.

  Brother number two, otherwise known as Ryker, heads straight for Fallon’s new friend from work, Ava. Considering Fal was just telling her earlier how much Ryker likes her, I’m not at all surprised. The look on her face says she more than likes him, but lucky for her his face says he feels the same way.

  If love were something I believed in, I’d pray for a guy to look at me the way these two are looking at their women. It’s obvious they don’t notice anyone else in the room and seeing that is such a turn on. I’ve never had a guy be so completely into me everyone else fell away. Most of the guys I meet are all about themselves and screw me… literally. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ended up with some douchebag who can’t manage to get me off or tell my orgasm is more fake than the watch he believes is a Rolex when it’s not.

  My attention is so focused on the two taken brothers and the way they are with their women I don’t notice the younger one coming over to stand beside me until he speaks.

  “Hey Melody.” Even his voice is attractive, in a way that’s unfair to other men everywhere, and when I turn to face him, he’s grinning down at me.

  When did he get so tall?

  I swear the last time I saw the youngest Winston he was the same height as me or maybe even shorter. Granted, I have been avoiding him for a few years, and obviously for good reason. It’s not smart for a girl to be infatuated with a boy who isn’t even legal. Pretty sure I’ve seen that Lifetime movie more than once.

  Now, don’t get me wrong. Not being as tall as I am isn’t a bad thing… though it does make finding a guy I can be with and wear heels around difficult. I’m five-nine, and somehow most of the guys I meet are around that height too even though they swear they’re inches taller. I still haven’t figured out why all the six feet or taller guys gravitate towards the short girls. Is being with a girl who’s a foot shorter than you are really that much better? It explains why they also think they’re hung like a horse instead of a mouse.

  My silence doesn’t go unnoticed. I don’t even realize I’ve ignored him until he asks, “You okay?”

  Jeez. Staring at him like an idiot isn’t making a very good impression. Mentally shaking myself out of my idiotic thoughts, I smile up at him, hoping it looks more genuine than it feels. Smiling about anything these days is hard, which is why I’ve had more than my share of alcohol tonight. I’m looking for anything that will numb the pain, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

  “Hey Remy. I’m good, just really buzzed.” Maybe if I play like I’m drunk he’ll buy the excuse.

  Laughing, he takes the almost empty cup from my hand and sniffs. When his eyes meet mine, the amusement in them is clear. “There’s barely any alcohol in this. It smells like straight cranberry juice.”

  “There is definitely vodka in there.” At least, there better be. I’ve been paying cranberry and vodka, so the bartender better not have been cranberry-ing it down. Is cranberry-ing even a word? Eh, who cares?

  Remy looks skeptical. “Maybe there was when you first started drinking them, but there’s not much in it now.”

  I angrily jerk the cup out of his hands and down the small amount of liquid left. Now that he’s pointed it out, I realize he’s right. I can’t taste much besides cranberry juice at all. Maybe there’s a splash of vodka, but it’s more like a drop. Spinning around in my seat, I glare hard at the bartender who’s been slowly but surely weakening my drinks, tipping slightly to the side and having to reach out for something I can grab to steady myself.

  And, of course, what do I grab? Remy’s arm... his very, very firm arm, which tells me he spends a lot of time in the gym. Squeezing gently, I bite down hard on my lip in a poor attempt to keep from moaning out loud. I don’t know what it is about a guy having muscular forearms, but it does it for me in a major way.

  A guy with rolled-up shirt sleeves, the veins on his arms standing out when he flexes? Yum and yes, please.

  His laugh has me spinning back around. He’s not even attempting to hide his laughter, and at my questioning look, says, “I don’t know what it is either, but I’m damn sure not going to complain.”

  Holy. Shit. I did not just say that out loud, did I? Bad Mel! Subconsciously, I’m slapping myself. I swear, I have no filter when it comes to this man, which is a horrible thing for someone who’s as attracted to him as I am.

  Trying to ignore the bolts of lust coursing through my body, I turn and head for the bar, gesturing to the bartender with my empty glass when he walks past, though now that Remy’s standing here beside me, he doesn’t seem very interested in getting me a fresh, less watered-down drink.

  “Don’t tell me you’re ordering another one. Haven’t you had enough?” The amusement in his voice is gone, and the censure I hear now has my gaze swinging back to him, my stomach fluttering in a dangerous way when our eyes meet.

  Remy’s smile before was warm, like the sun shining down on you after weeks of rain. It made me feel fuzzy, happy… two things I haven’t felt in what seems like years. But the frown on his face and the furrow between his brows signaling his displeasure at the fact that I’m trying to order more alcohol makes those fuzzy feelings disappear. Now, they’re a weight in my throat that has me wanting to tell the bartender to forget it, but I’m not about to let my feelings for Remy dictate my actions.

  The stupid bartender finally brings me another drink, but I’m so focused on pretending Remy’s frown doesn’t affect me, I forget to mention the watered down crap he’s been charging me for and push away from the bar so I can return to my friends.

  My legs are shaking, so I wobble like a damn newborn foal taking her first steps, my hand once again reaching out and landing on Remy’s flat, muscular abs. Electricity zings through me when I touch him, sparking a fire low in my belly. Remembering the question he asked me at the bar, I mutter, “If you lived my life you wouldn’t just order one drink, you’d buy the whole damn distillery.”

  He helps me steady myself. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?” The endearment leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and I shake off the feelings stirring inside me

  “Hell if don’t do better”—the cliché saying makes me snicker— “but if you mean right now? I’m going home before I do something stupid.” It takes every bit of my waning concentration to walk slo
wly towards the exit leaving him behind and purposely ignoring the fact that he’s saying something to the bartender as I do.

  “For someone who’s had as much to drink as you have, you would think you’d be slower at this whole walking thing.” Remy chuckles, his hand wrapping around my elbow so he can lead me back to the table, the one where his brothers and my best friend are all watching our interaction closely…

  His hand doesn’t leave my skin, and I try to convince myself that the warmth it fills me with is unwelcome. Remy is way too young for me, and I need to shut whatever this is down before it goes too far.

  I’m so busy obsessing over his body and lamenting the fact that I can’t have him, no matter how much I want him, I almost miss his short conversation with Reed.

  “Mel needs to get home.” The way he says my name sends shivers down my spine. His voice is deeper than it was when he was talking to me at the bar, and in my semi-drunk state, I swear I can feel the vibrations ripple through me.

  Then, his words penetrate, and I yank myself out of his hold to glare up at him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Finding you a way home.” He says it slowly, like I’m too wasted to understand something simple.

  High-handed prick. “I don’t need you to coordinate a ride. I’m perfectly capable of ordering one on my own.” Reaching around his body, I grab my purse off the table and pull my phone out. Once it’s unlocked, I pull up my ride-share app and practically shove the screen in his face. “See? All it takes in the press of a button, and voila! Almost instant ride.”

  His eyes narrow. “It’s way too late, and you are way too tipsy to be getting in some strange guy’s car.”

  “Excuse me? It’s just a ride. One that isn’t much different from a cab. They’re perfectly safe. If you’re that opposed, I can just have Reed and Fallon take me home when they leave. See? Problem solved.”

  Reed and Fallon are both watching us, their eyes bouncing back and forth between us like they’re watching a ping pong match. Remy shakes his head, but when I start to protest again, he cuts me off. “No. Fallon and Reed need to get home to Mav. If anyone’s gonna drive you home, it’ll be me.”

  Without giving me the chance to protest further, he grabs both my phone and my purse out of my hands. “I already promised Fallon and Reed that I’d get you home, safe and sound and that’s what I’m doing.” There’s a sincere look in his eyes, one that makes my body want him that much more.

  “Damn, why do you have to be so young, and attractive, and gentlemen-like?” The words fall from my mouth without warning, and I realize I’ve just said all those things out loud. Goddammit, I’ve done it again.

  “I’m not that young,” he snaps. “And thank you for the compliment, you aren’t that bad to look at either. As for being a gentleman…” His voice trails off, and the look he gives me sends shivers down my spine. “Let’s just say I’m the kind of man that will open doors for you in public but fuck you senseless in private.”

  My mouth drops open, but no words come out. What do I even say to that?

  “You’re too young for me, Mr. Winston. I don’t date or screw anyone who isn’t at least a year older than me.” Even as I say it, I let Remy loop his arm back through mine and guide me towards wherever he parked on the street.

  “I’m not like the others you fucked or dated in the past. I can guarantee that.”

  Why is the way he’s talking to me right now so hot? I lick my lips, thinking about the possibility of what his words can mean. I’m always up for a challenge, since there’s nothing like proving a man wrong.

  “How so? You have a magic dick or something?” I giggle as I say the words and notice the way that Remy’s lip rises slightly. He thinks I’m funny. That’s fucking cute.

  “Nope. There ain’t nothing magical about me. I just know how to get a woman off, and I’m damn good at it.” The way he talks with so much confidence, and alphaness, has my lady bits tingling.

  “Well, why don’t you prove it then.” I dare, not because I want to test him, but because deep down in the pit of my belly I want to see if he can actually live up to his word. In my had-to-much-to-drink brain, it doesn’t matter that he’s sweet as hell, and a gentleman. I just want him to fuck me like he says he can.

  “What happened to you don’t fuck guys younger than you.” His voice is so low it’s almost a whisper. We reach his car just as he says the words, and I have half a mind to turn around on my trembling legs and run back inside. I’ve got too much going on in my life, too much hard shit and not enough good shit. Adding Remy to the mix would only complicate things, and yet, the temptation to see what could happen is swirling around in my drunken mind.

  “I might make an exception if you can prove you know your shit and you aren’t all talk.” He opens the door, and the look he gives me makes me feel more drunk than I already do. I’m fairly sure it’s not from the vodka I’ve been drinking but from something entirely different.

  “If by shit, you mean can I locate the g-spot and clit without needing a road map? Then yeah, I’ve got you covered. I’m a pro, Melody, not some teenage boy only wanting to get off.” There is a roughness to his voice, and I want to sink deep into it, letting it wrap around me, just so I can forget about my fucked-up life for a while.

  My stomach knots when he helps me inside the car, his hands gripping me in a way only a man can really hold a woman, though he’s doing nothing but keeping me steady. I’m thinking about all the things this man can possibly do with his hands, my imagination running wild with thoughts of what he might be able to do with another appendage on his body.

  Chapter Two

  Remy

  After helping her into the car, I walk slowly around to get in on the driver’s side. Her perfume mixes with my cologne when the door closes, cutting off any fresh air and the mingled scent has me clenching my hands into fists to keep them to myself. I like the idea of anyone coming near her knowing I was the one who touched her. That they’d be able to smell me on her.

  Melody turns to look at me and the tiny grin on her face tells me she’s about to say something that will both aggravate the shit out of me and make my dick rock hard. Sure enough, she tells me, “You have no idea what you’d be in for with me.”

  I grit my teeth, molars grinding together in my aggravation. The action causes my jaw to ache, but the pain keeps me from taking sweet Melody across my knee. The woman needs a nice hard spanking and a hard fuck too.

  Raising an eyebrow in question, I chance a look at her as start the car. “What I would be in for?” I don’t think Miss Sassypants is aware of the things that I can and will do to her. “Tell me more.” There are a few minutes of quiet, just enough for me to get us out of the parking lot and onto the road. I have no idea where she lives, but I don’t much care. It just means longer I’ll have her in the car with me.

  “Well first…” Her voice trails off, and I feel the heat of her stare on my body. She’s beautiful with her dark, almost black, hair. Mel’s gunmetal blue eyes pull me in, and I already know if I kiss her, she’ll melt into a fucking puddle on the floor at my feet. “If you weren’t so young, I would lean over and unzip your pants while you’re busy concentrating on the road. Then, once I pulled your dick out, I’d suck it all the way to the back of my throat and scrape the base lightly with my teeth.”

  Motherfucker. The mental image she’s putting in my head has me ready to blow in my pants like the teenage boy she seems to think I am. That’s cool though. Two can play this game. Keeping my eyes firmly on the dark road in front of me, I give her a taste of her own medicine. “Yeah? Would you let me hold your hair in one hand so I could look down every few minutes to watch you worship my cock? Watch you struggle to get it all down your throat?” I can see her thighs rubbing together out of the corner of my eyes, and I go silent, waiting to see what she’ll say next.

  “Oh, I would have no problem deep-throating every. Single. Inch.” Mel says it proudly, punctuating every word w
ith a fingertip poking my arm. I’m instantly jealous of any other man who’s had that sexy mouth wrapped around his dick. “And then, when you can’t take it anymore, I’ll swallow every drop.”

  That’s it. I’m done. I’m ready to pull this car over in the first empty parking lot I see and have her put her money where her mouth is. No pun intended. Before I can, she turns from seductress to sad girl and my head spins from the change.

  She starts talking again, mumbling so low I have to strain to hear what she’s saying. “What am I doing? I’m a mess. My entire life is a huge fucking mess. I’ve got a ton of shit going on and no time for a guy.” I turn to look at her when I stop at another light -- why am I catching all of them? -- and she’s staring at me, confusion swirling in her eyes. “You know, you’re ballsy for still wanting a piece of me even with all my chaos. I just hope you don’t regret it.” The last sentence is said in a low, sad voice, one that makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and take care of whatever it is that’s hurting her.

  “What happens when we’re together is just between us, Mel,” I try to reassure her. “If you don’t want to share anything about your personal life, I’m not going to make you. Yeah, I want you. I want whatever parts you’re willing to give me.” It’s true. I want her. But, unlike my words imply, I don’t just want to fuck her. I want her to be mine, for me to be hers. Maybe it makes me a bigger pussy than my brothers’, but I want us to be a couple. Whatever’s going on in her life, whatever made her think she needed to attempt to drink an entire bottle of vodka to cope, I want to fix it for her. I’ve never had these thoughts about a woman before, but all it took was one short conversation with her to make me crave more.

  Mel snorts, and normally that would be a huge turn off, but nothing about her turns me off. “Whatever you say, Winston. I’m not like Fallon. I can’t fall in love. I refuse. I have way too much baggage, and after seeing all the pain love causes, I don’t want any part of it. Me and love don’t mix. We’re like oil and water.” She sounds so sure of herself, but I see right through the hard exterior that surrounds her. Melody might say she doesn’t do love, but she wants a connection with someone just as much as I do. I want to ask what she means about seeing what love does to people, but I’m smart enough to know if I ask she’ll clam up, and any plans I have tonight will be over before they can start.