SECRET IDENTITY (13 page)

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Authors: Linda Mooney

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BOOK: SECRET IDENTITY
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Lorne winced. “Ouch. But it wasn’t really me.”

“We know that. She knows that, too. Listen, Lo. I think
Brenda’s turned on by your secret identity, but she probably inadvertently
compared you to some of her past sexual encounters. And when she did, you came
up…uhh…lacking.”

Lorne silently cursed himself for the flush that came over
his face. “So, what are you suggesting? That I seduce her as The Defender and
prove to her I’m not ‘lacking’?”

“It’s up to you. After all, Lee and I know how long you’ve
been trying to get her to look at you as more than a pseudo-brother. Maybe now’s
the time to get closer to her, but as your superpowered persona. Take it a step
at a time. Slowly let her know you care for her in a romantic way. Hell, if
Lorne Palmer can’t catch her, there’s a good chance The Defender can.”

“Is this one of those inevitable or consequential events?”
Lorne asked.

Again, Luke shrugged. “Sometimes I can see things as clearly
as if I’m watching it live. Other times, it’s fuzzy and filled with static. I
think the fact that the four of us grew up together like one enormous family is
why Brenda is coming across in hazy bits and pieces. That, and her proximity.
After partially witnessing what she was going through, I thought you’d want to
know what happened last night.”

“Does this have anything to do with the warning you gave me
the other day?”

“It may. It may not. Right now I can only catch a thread
here and there. Nothing really screams out at me.” He smiled. “You know, Lo,
Lee and I would be thrilled if you two ever managed to hook up permanently.”

Lorne stared down at his empty plate where he was making
tracks in the leftover syrup with his fork. To say he had been pining after
Brenda all these years would be putting it mildly. Once he reached puberty, the
majority of his dreams had been about her, and all of his wet dreams had
included only her. “Luke, I just came out as The Defender. How can I juggle
that career and woo Brenda at the same time?”

“Easy. She’s under orders to find out the cause of that
explosion. So are you. Just combine the two. Let her in as you investigate. Her
bosses have called in to the PD to up her credentials. That woman has more
brains than we give her credit for. She’d make a great ally.”

“But what if I still want to be with her as myself?”

“Still easy. Of the three of us, she opens up to you. And
there’s still that house of hers she’s thinking of selling. Damn it, Lorne,
short of duct taping the two of you together, what’s it going to take for one
of you to make the first move?”

“What are you saying? That I make a move on her as both
myselves? Myself and I?” He laughed at the absurdity. “However you say it?”

“Why not?”

“But why now? Why not a week from now? Or a month from now?
Give her a chance to recover from Mr. Mac’s death, and for this whole thing
with the factory to be resolved? Even if she goes back to the city, it would
only take me a few minutes to fly up there.”

Luke sighed loudly. It was then Lorne felt a streak of ice
go up his spine. “Don’t answer that,” he hurried to say, already suspecting the
truth.

Luke nodded and replied anyway, as Lorne knew he would.

“If not now, there will never come another time. Ever.”

And Luke was never wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

First Base

 

Her parents’ bedroom was the way she remembered it. Her
father had never removed her mother’s things after her death. Dresses still
hung in the closet. The hairbrush sat on the white doily on the dressing table.
Brenda bet herself her mother’s undies and all would still be in the bureau
drawers.

Do I begin clearing everything away? Or do I go back to
the labs and hope to find out something about the explosion?

Her stomach clenched, reminding her that she hadn’t had
breakfast. Time to raid the refrigerator and larder to see if there was
anything she could whip up. She was passing through the living room when
someone knocked at the front door. She didn’t need three guesses to know who it
was after seeing the familiar figure. She was already grinning when she opened
the door, only to be met with a cardboard box with a smiley face drawn on it.

“What are you doing?” She laughed.

“Good morning! My name is Box. I’m here to help you pack up
the things that make you unhappy.”

The voice was squeaky but unmistakable as the box jiggled
from left to right.

Still laughing, Brenda peered out onto the porch where she
saw at least a dozen or more empty boxes. “Lorne! What are you doing here?”

He dropped the box to grin at her. “Delivering coffee.”
Today he wore a black t-shirt with a Fender Stratocaster guitar emblazoned on
the front. Although the shirt was well-worn, the jeans looked brand new, right
down to the neat creases in the legs. Red high-top sneakers and a lightweight
navy blue windbreaker completed his typical scruffy but incredibly handsome
look. To her surprise, he reached down where he had set a travel mug, and
handed it to her. “One artificial sweetener and just enough milk to turn it
from black to a gross-out diarrhea brown, just the way you like it, madam.”

Brenda stepped back to let him enter, bringing the boxes
with him and dumping them in the living room as she sipped her coffee. “Mmm.
Thanks. I don’t suppose you brought breakfast with you, too.”

Lorne reached inside the pocket of his windbreaker to pull
out a foil-wrapped package. “Scrambled egg on toast was the best I could do. It’s
Lee’s turn to get groceries, and you know much he
loves
that task,” he
remarked with exaggerated irony.

Brenda peeled back the foil and pinched a bit of the
sandwich, stuffing it in her mouth. He’d even buttered the bread. “Oh, God,
Lorne, you’re going to make some woman a great husband some day.” She giggled. “Now,
the truth. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?”

“Still on bereavement leave,” he said.

She could understand that. Nearly everyone in town knew how
close the two families had been. “And speaking of, I didn’t like the idea of
you having to remove all of Mr. Mac’s things all by yourself. That’s what
family is for.”

Before she could protest, he snatched up two boxes and
strode down the hallway toward the master bedroom. Dutifully, she tucked her
coffee in the crook of her arm, grabbed a box with her free hand, and followed.

For the next two hours they packed nearly all of the empty
boxes with clothing and odds-and-ends, folding the four lid flaps inside one
another on top like an envelope, rather than taping the box shut. Every so
often Brenda would come across an item she couldn’t bear to part with, and she’d
add it to the small pile on the bed.

“You know, if you plan to stay here or keep the place, I
have a suggestion,” Lorne commented as they took a break.

They were seated on the bedroom floor, enjoying the last of
the coffee she had fixed an hour earlier.

“What’s that?” She looked around the room, now devoid of
everything except the furniture. The packed boxes were waiting in the living
room for him to cart off to Goodwill.

“Keep the bedframe, but buy a new mattress, and use this as
your bedroom now.”

“Oh, I can’t.” She shook her head. “This is where Mom and
Dad slept. I couldn’t use it.”

“All right. Buy a new mattress anyway, and let guests use
it. Would you have a problem with that?” he gently asked.

“No. I can handle that.” She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks,
Lorne. For everything.”

“Hey, what are best buds for?” He grinned back.

“No, I mean it. You…you’ve been there for me every step of
the way. I don’t know if I could have done it alone.”

“Yeah, you could have. You’re intelligent and strong, and I
don’t mean just physically. You’ve got grit, as Luke would say. Look at how you
kept our butts in line while we were growing up! Took a lot for a measly girl
to hold sway over us three guys!”

She was laughing again, remembering all the times in the
past when she’d go one-on-three over some issue or another. Leaning over, she
gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Or rather, on the stubble. Although it was
scratchy, she caught a whiff of his scent, familiar and heady. Reluctantly, she
pulled away.

“Thank you,” she started to say.

Lorne caught her arm, stopping her face mere inches from
his.

A moment became two, stretching into timelessness as they
stared at one another. Brenda could see herself reflected in his smoky gray
eyes which seemed to soften with every passing second. Breathing stopped, and
then Lorne moved forward, closing the distance. The next thing she knew, warm
lips closed over hers, taking away every thought as she sunk into his embrace.

The room disappeared. The day disappeared. Every atom of
sadness that had been hanging over the room and their chore vanished in the
strong warmth of Lorne’s arms. She moved slightly, and without having to ask,
he picked her up and set her in his lap where she could nestle under his chin.
She dug her fingers into his t-shirt and relished the sweet movements of his
lips on hers.

She felt his hand cup her cheek as he delved deeper, lightly
tonguing the edges of her mouth and licking the center of her lips to open
them. She let him part them, waiting to see what he would do next. She could
taste and breathe the sweet coffee he’d drunk, and it left her craving for
more.

This was not the Lorne Palmer she knew, but it was the Lorne
Palmer she’d dreamed she’d discover. He was still the caring, insightful human
being she’d always known he was. Grown up, he’d added strength and character.
She had never seen him lose his temper, unlike his other brothers. Maybe that’s
why she had come to love him, because she knew he would never condemn anything
she said or wanted to do. Make fun of, yes. Tease almost mercilessly, most
definitely. But not get upset or angry.

His tongue touched her teeth, moving further past them to
find hers. When he did, he began to suckle on it with gentle, rhythmic pulls.
The sensation sent shivers through her, like titillating bubbles of lust and
desire popping in her bloodstream, making her moan in response. She wanted this
to last and go as far as they both dare. All the way to home plate, if he
would. But first, they had to take it one base at a time.

Taking his hand from her face, Brenda placed it on her
breast. She felt his gasp of disbelief, and he lifted his mouth from hers.

“Brenda, are you sure?”

“Shh.”

“Bren—”

“Shh,” she hushed him again. “Don’t stop kissing me. Don’t
ever stop,” she whispered.

He answered by holding her tighter and claiming her mouth
with greater ferocity.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 16

Promise

 

Her kiss made him dizzy. Her mouth was paradise. Her body,
snuggled against and clinging to his, was his greatest dream come to life.

She wanted him. He wanted her. He knew how far he was
willing to take this moment, but there was still the smallest shred of doubt
whether or not she’d let him.

His heart was beating so hard in his throat, it nearly
choked him. Her breast filled his palm with firmness and warmth, and when the
taut nipple scraped across his skin, it was like a match being drawn across the
striker, setting every cell aflame.

His jeans were too tight. His dick was caught next to the
seam, but it would be the jeans that would give first if he didn’t do something
about it, and soon.

It was costing him to keep his movements gentle. With his
increased strength, he was afraid of hurting her, possibly injuring her.
Groaning softly, Lorne massaged her breast as he removed his lips from hers,
and began to nibble the side of her neck, trailing down to her shoulder.


Lorne.

Her hands were tangled in his shirt, holding on with
desperation. With every little wiggle of her butt, his hard-on increased,
sending him spinning closer and closer to perfection.

They had made that critical first move. It was like
unlocking the door and leaving it open to the future. A door either one of them
could pass through to reach the other whenever they needed to. When they wanted
to.

Gradually, he laid her on the rug, sliding his body across
hers, next to hers. Almost cradling her between his thighs and shoulders.
Pulling up her pullover sweater with one hand, he managed to pull down the bra
cup enough to reach her warm breast. The sweet pink tip beckoned like the
cherry on a sundae, and Lorne closed his mouth over it with relish.

Brenda arched her back against this new onslaught and
moaned. The fingers of her free hand threaded through his hair. But the one
underneath his shirt continued to tease his sensitive nipples, tweaking them
unmercifully.

He could suckle on her hard little raspberry nipples for
hours if she’d let him, but the musky scent coming from between her legs was
beginning to drive him crazy. Releasing her breast, he scooted down, hooking
his fingers inside the waistband of her jeans.

He pressed his face into her lower abdomen and breathed in
deeply. She was wet and squirming underneath him. Her breathing had become
quick, shallow gasps. A glance up at her revealed she was clutching her
breasts, manipulating them, and bringing herself closer and closer to her cusp
of completion.

Gentle urging made her spread her thighs. Lorne carefully
teethed the moist juncture. Her scent called to the most primitive part of his
brain, bringing forth the raw male instinct to forego the foreplay, and tear
her clothes off and claim her. Subconsciously, he rubbed his aching hard-on
against the floor as he snagged the zipper on her jeans with his teeth.

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