Free His to Possess by Opal Carew

relationship with his brother and he truly wanted him back.
    “I’m sorry. I’m not used to opening up about my family relationships. I shouldn’t
     have snapped at you.”
    He didn’t go on to tell her that this business with Brenhart and Saunders was exactly
     the kind of thing Rafe would want them to pursue.
    Her eyes filled with understanding and she placed her hand on his. Instantly, a spark
     of awareness sizzled through him. He saw it in her eyes, too, and she shifted her
     hand away and wrapped her fingers around the stem of her wine glass, then lifted it
     to her lips. He couldn’t help but watch as she sipped the burgundy liquid. Her lips
     glistened as she ran her tongue around them and he longed to lean forward and taste
     them. To slip his tongue inside her silky, warm mouth, then to kiss her while she
     melted into his arms.
    A waiter came by and collected their dinner plates, replacing them with martini glasses
     filled with chocolate mousse.
    “Sometimes it helps to talks about things,” she said. “Why don’t you tell me a story
     about you and your brother growing up? How did you get along?”
    He smiled. “Well, when I turned eight years old, Rafe was six, and he decided he wanted
     to get me something for my birthday. Our parents always arranged a gift from brother-to-brother
     on these occasions, but Rafe was adamant that he would arrange his own gift. Something
     he got himself. So on my birthday, he handed me a small box that he’d wrapped himself.
     There was tape everywhere and not all of the box was covered, but he was proud of
     his accomplishment. When I opened it up, inside was a gold watch. Just like the one
     my father had, that he knew I had always been fascinated with.”
    “Where did he get a gold watch?”
    “That’s the thing. It was my Dad’s. At that age, Rafe didn’t really understand the
     idea of ownership. He just knew I loved that watch, and Dad barely wore that one since
     he had several, so on the morning of my birthday Rafe retrieved it from my Dad’s dressing
     room, wrapped it up, and presented it to me.”
    She smiled, her green eyes glittering in the soft light of the candles. “That’s sweet.”
    She was right. Even at eight years old, Dane had been touched by his brother’s generosity
     and desire to make him happy. He had hated the fact that his father had only seen
     a child who needed a lesson in ownership and had beaten him with a belt. Their mother
     had not stood up for Rafe because she would never disagree with their father.
    “But enough about me. Let’s delve into your past, shall we?”
    “What do you want to know?”
    “Why don’t you tell me about this ex of yours. You said he’s incredibly handsome?”
     he said with a grin.
    She laughed. “Yes, he’s confident and handsome like you. But in every other way, he’s
     totally different.”
    “How so?”
    “For one, I could never imagine him in a business suit. He rode into Bakersfield—the
     little town I grew up in—on a big Harley, wearing torn jeans and a leather jacket.
     He’s tall, broad shouldered, and totally ripped.” She grinned. “Okay in that way he’s
     just like you, but his muscles are covered with tattoos, at least over his arms, shoulders,
     and back. And he plays guitar in a rock band.”
    “So that’s the kind of guy you like? A free-wheeling musician?”
    “Not necessarily. He just…” She shrugged. “I don’t know…”
    “Swept you off your feet?”
    “Yeah, I guess so.”
    “So why did you think he loved you?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “No, but your eyes did.”
    She drew in a deep breath. “He always looked at me like I was something special, and
     even though the other girls in town fawned over him, he only seemed interested in
     me.”
    “I can understand that.”
    She gazed at him uncertainly. “Thank you. You know, that’s another way you two are
     alike. He was very charming, too.”
    Dane wondered how this biker guitarist could