Karyn Gerrard - Heart of Rock

She stepped out on the large deck and closed the door. Carly inhaled the brisk sea air. She wished they could stay here a month and not just a few days. She headed down the steps leading to the beach area. The gentle waves lapped on the sand, but above the melodic sound of the ocean, Carly could hear female giggles.

Carly couldn't believe this. She glanced at the small boat bobbing up and down in the water by the shoreline. Did these bimbos have radar? How in hell did they know where to find him? She never dreamed she would have to put a guard on the beach, for Christ's sake!

She walked toward the giggles. Tucked away in a secluded area by the sand dunes were Byrne and two nearly naked women. She glanced down at Byrne stretched out on the beach like he was a picnic lunch with those bitch ants crawling all over him. She was about to say something sarcastic and snippy, but her throat closed over. It hit her then and there. She wanted to be one of those women. Hell, she wanted to be the only woman to crawl all over him like a cheap rug. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Feelings of hurt and disappointment roared though her, but why? For close to two weeks she had been fighting her attraction to Byrne and denying her emotions. The raw jealousy roaring through her body couldn't be denied. She did something against her very core. She turned and ran. Carly's stomach churned about this whole scenario and her surprising reaction to what she witnessed.

She heard one of the women say, "Did you invite another woman to join us?"

She glanced back to see Byrne scramble to his feet. Lord God, he was naked and fully aroused. Wow, he could strap his dick to his leg. He told the women to leave in not very friendly terms. They gathered their clothes, grumbled, and got back in the boat and headed farther down the shore. She looked away and kept running.

"Carly!"

Escaping the scene was difficult. Her high-heeled boots were sinking in the sand and slowing her progress. She could hear him chasing after her. Byrne caught her and brought them both down to their knees in the wet sand as the tide swirled about them. Carly struggled at first and then, without thinking, she lifted her hand to touch the back of his head. He was behind her, and she was wedged in between his muscular thighs and his huge erection. Byrne's hand cupped her breast, and his cock grew harder and larger at her back. He nuzzled her neck, and his tongue swirled her ear lobe.

"Carly," he whispered."I didn't drink anything,"

Like that would make everything all right. She didn't smell any booze on his breath, just hot, spicy, aroused male. He kissed her neck again, turned her head slightly, and then nibbled along her chin. Oh, God, she was turned on. His naked skin had a life force of its own. The heat he radiated. The sizzle of desire made her dizzy like she'd had those drinks herself. Byrne moved his hips in the sand and rocked her back against him. All she had to do was lift her short skirt… What the hell was she thinking?

Brogan was naked, hard as stone, and he didn't care. He moved in front of her. He was still on his knees, as was she. His hand gently caressed Carly's face and her glorious hair.

"Beautiful—" He meant what he said, really meant it. Not the fake verbiage he had been spouting for ages to nameless women. He loved her freckles. Didn't even know she had freckles until the night he saw her with all the makeup off. He loved the way her full mouth curved in annoyance at him and the way her eyes flashed all manner of emotions even though she struggled to hide them. She was magnificent. He lowered his head. Just a taste.

The kiss was terrifyingly tender, slow, and languid. He did not force himself on her, just savored. Carly Montgomery tasted as no other woman before in his life. This was a revelation. Not even Tarrah, Abbie… none of them. Ever. She opened her mouth tentatively, and he slowly licked every corner of her sensual lushness. A small moan escaped her lips.

Carly pushed him to the sand, her hand firm on his bare thigh. She glanced down at his erect cock and then up to his face. They both stared at each other for a long time, their gazes fused with untold passion and want. He let her take the aggressive role. Brogan waited. Her hand was like a branding iron on his skin. She started a slow circular motion on his hip. He groaned. Take my cock in your hand, your mouth, your pussy, anywhere, I don't care. He could see the desire smoldering in her gaze. Jaysus, he wanted her. Just as he leaned upward to kiss her, she pulled back.

Carly stood shakily to her feet and turned away from Byrne. She wanted him like a kid wants her favorite toy on Christmas morning. She couldn't do this. She was seconds away from lifting her skirt and impaling herself on his huge cock. Sure, people had on-the-road flings… hell, she'd had one or two over the years. They meant nothing. When she gazed into those whiskey-and-grass-colored eyes of his, she knew it would mean everything. He was hopeless. No, he hadn't drunk anything, but he'd let those women have their way with him. He was a whore, and she couldn't figure out why.

She heard him say, "Carly?" in a voice so raw, so emotional she almost ran back to him. But she didn't, she kept walking.

Nevan cooled his heels in Brogan's private suite. The concert was tomorrow night. He had called Carly, and she'd reserved him the room across the hall from Brogan. She wouldn't tell him much about his brother, which had him guessing a lot had happened. She said, "Ask your brother." The girlfriend dropped him, Reese had told him as much. What else had happened since Philadelphia, he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

He crossed his arms and leaned back into the plush sofa. Brogan was a funny bloke, like he was one to talk. He certainly was the prettiest of all the brothers, which attracted the ladies. But Nevan had the feeling Brogan was broken inside and had been for a long time.

He wouldn't ask him any questions about whatever he carried inside him. Nevan had enough of his own secrets. Pity was the reason he'd decided to make the trip to Newark. Pity for Brogan, the rich rock star. Since Reese had washed his hands of him, and deservedly so, he couldn't abandon his older brother as well. He had to see for himself how Brogan was faring.

* * * *

Brogan walked into the suite. There was Nevan lounging on the couch. He had mixed feelings about having anyone from the family here. He was even more vulnerable, if it were possible. Growing up in Dublin, the Byrnes didn't have much. His father, Seamus, was a laborer, who barely kept the wolf from the door. In a family of seven children there wasn't much privacy either. The five boys were in one room and the two girls in another. Stacked like bleedin' cord wood. They had hand-me-down clothes, and it was a struggle to keep food on the table. With his first big royalty check, Brogan bought his parents a good-sized home on Marrowbone Lane. He gave all his siblings money. He brought Nevan and Reese over to the States and gave them high-paying jobs as his assistants. Times were tough in Ireland, so he was glad to help. Say what you will, he loved his family.

Brogan's thoughts drifted back to his parents. To this day they still loved each other deeply and made sure their home was alive in laughter and affection, then and now. So what was wrong with him or Nevan, for that matter? Neither of them had any lasting, meaningful relationship like their parents.

Nevan, who was eighteen months younger, never let anyone get close. He still didn't. Maybe Brogan should take a page from his book, but really who had he let close lately? Not even Abbie had understood him. He kept a part of himself removed from her and from everyone. The closest he'd come to opening his heart was when he kissed Carly on the beach. He thought about the devastating kiss constantly and thought about her. She acted as if the whole incident didn't happen. The women on the beach—what possessed him? He knew. The demon. He took a seat opposite Nevan.