Lace and Lies (Brooklyn Brothers #1)
Scars and Sins (Brooklyn Brothers #2)
Excerpt of Scars and Sins
“You know how I couldn’t figure out what to do with the dining room?”
“Well, I think I found a solution.”
I dropped my hand and instantly felt her jaw drop along with it.
“Oh, Ace,” she breathed, her hand over her heart. “It’s… It’s beautiful, I… I can’t believe you did this.”
I watched, transfixed, as she slowly walked over to the shiny white piano in the middle of the room. She stroked her fingers over the keys, appearing mesmerized.
“I don’t know anything about pianos, but I was told this is one of the nicest ones on the market?”
Her eyes shot to mine. “Are you kidding? This is a 1916 Steinway Grand M. It’s one of the finest ones ever made. When did you even have time to do all this?”
I shrugged. “I may or may not have had Gia’s help.”
She smiled brightly for a second before jerking her hand back as if the instrument had bitten her.
I frowned. “What is it?”
“You shouldn’t have bought this for me, Ace.” She shook her head. “It’s way too expensive. You have to take it back.”
I strode over and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at me. “This is a gift for you, Rox. Voglio che tu l'abbia.” I want you to have it.
We’d been speaking a lot of Italian in the last few weeks. She said it reminded her of her parents because they’d spoken to each other more often in Italian than in English.
“È troppo,” she whispered. It’s too much.
“Believe me, I’ll get just as much enjoyment out of it as you, if not more so.”
She tilted her head to the side. “How so?”
I gave her what I knew was a wolfish grin. So glad you asked, baby.
I nodded toward the piano. “Go sit and play and I’ll show you.”
Her eyes gleamed with curiosity as she silently obeyed and took a seat on the bench.
I crossed the room to the white settee I’d purchased expressly for this purpose and sprawled out on it. I had the perfect view of her profile from this angle. It was exactly how I’d imagined this tantalizing scene when I’d first come up with the idea. Watching her play while I lounged back from here.
Looking like she still didn’t get it, I dipped my chin down at the instrument. “I want to watch you play.”
Her luscious mouth curled upward, the dimple in her lower lip smoothing out. Then she placed her feet on the pedals, her fingers on the ivory keys, and began to play. I didn’t know anything about music, so I had no idea what the piece was called or who had composed it. But the notes were slow and sensual and began to take on life as they drifted through the room.
The higher notes were almost romantic.
The lower notes were seductive.
The whole thing was one intense aphrodisiac.
As the melody sped up, she hit the keys with more force, more power. There was passion in the way she played, a sultry air about her movements. Her eyes were closed, her head lolled back on her neck. Her body moved with the music, swaying to the rhythm, almost as if she were unconscious to it.
I never thought playing a piano could be so sexual.
That was, until she glanced down at my lap.
“Open your shorts,” she said in a husky voice. “I want to watch you play…with yourself.”
I fucking loved it when she went all saucy like that. All take-charge. Over the past few weeks, she had blossomed into a sexually confident, self-possessed woman.
It was a gorgeous thing.
Without taking my eyes off hers, I pushed my shorts and briefs down past my hips. Even over the music, I heard her indrawn breath when my cock sprang free and smacked against my abs. Her gaze lowered to it, glazing over as I wrapped my hand around the rock-hard shaft. Then I gave it a slow pump with my fist.
She hit a wrong note.
Let’s play, baby.
Copyright © 2020, Melanie Munton. All rights reserved.