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He’s my best friend’s older brother. He’s off-limits. But when I find the brooding tattoo artist’s sketchbook full of dirty drawings—drawings of me—I can’t resist.
Chapter 1
Brendon
Get Tempting Now
Kaylee plants her palms on the table. Her cheeks spread to her ears. They're pink. Then red. She's laughing so hard her tits are shaking.
Damn, that tight blue dress, the same blue as her glasses.
She looks amazing, like the sweet, innocent angel she is and like the sex goddess I'm desperate to unleash.
But I still hate that scrap of fabric with every fiber of my being.
I hate every ounce of air between us.
Every flint of wood in this table.
Every guy here looking at her the way I am.
Fuck, if I don't get ahold of myself, I'm going to break a few arms. And maybe my hand. And I can't exactly finish Alex's back piece at nine a.m. tomorrow with broken fingers.
Em wraps her arms around Kaylee.
Kaylee laughs, pushing her long blond hair behind her ears and gathering it at one shoulder.
Her eyes flit around the room.
They catch mine.
They scream I'm about to wish for you to take me to your room.
Or maybe that's in my head.
Today is the day.
She's no longer a temptation that can get me locked up. Just a temptation that can rip away everything that matters to me.
Em leans in to whisper in her ear. I know my sister. I know exactly what she's saying. Wish for someone to fuck tonight.
Not happening.
Not as long as I'm here.
I hate to be a cunt-blocker, really, I do, but there's no way Kaylee is taking home anyone on my watch.
I have no idea how she's managed to stay single this long.
She's beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. And innocent... fuck, the way her cheeks are blushing.
The way she's leaning over the table, letting her eyelids fall together, parting her lips...
I could teach her so many things.
I could teach her everything.
But I can't.
She's my sister's best friend.
And as much as Em is a brat, she's all the family I've got.
These two are the most important people in my life.
My cock is going to have to cool it.
It's not getting anywhere near Kaylee.
I sit on the Kelly green deck chair, the one under the old lamp with the too yellow bulb.
Even though we're in one of the most crowded cities in Southern California, the beach is empty. Still. All the voices and laughter are coming from the house. The roar of the ocean isn't enough to muffle the party.
I should head inside and kick out Emma's friends. Insist on driving Kaylee back to her place. Lecture both of them about drinking too much.
But I'm not in the mood to play Dad today. I'm tired of playing Dad, period. Emma and I never got along, not exactly, but we used to have a rapport. We were a team. A you're annoying, but not quite as annoying as Mom or Dad team, but we were still a fucking team.
Now, the majority of my relationship is lecturing her and yelling some equivalent of go to your room.
And her yelling back you're not my dad.
I force myself to look out at the ocean.
It's beautiful. Dark water. Soft sand. Stars bright enough to shine against the black sky but dulled by light pollution all the same.
None of it distracts me.
None of the eight million things going on in my life distract me.
I need a way to get Kaylee out of my head. I've tried everything—work, play, other women, fucking myself, not fucking myself.
Nothing helps.
I pull out my sketchbook and flick my pen a few times. A few more. My warm up sketch is a messy abstract shape. It means something, I'm sure, but I don't have a clue what that is.
I turn the page. Outline the octopus going on Will's bicep tomorrow afternoon. Attempt to fill in the shading.
The details don't come. The only image in my mind is Kaylee. The brightness in her green eyes, the smile spreading over her pink lips, that coy hip tilt. Like she knows how badly I want my hands on those hips.
Like she's going to roll that dress up her thighs, plant her palms on the table, and shoot me a please, fuck me now look.
I don't need a tattoo mockup.
I need her naked in my bed.
"Hey." The side door slides open and Kaylee steps outside. Her steps aren't soft the way they normally are.
They're messy. Quick.
Her eyes are brighter than normal.
Bolder.
She sits on the lounge chair, next to me. Her thigh presses against mine. Her fingers skim the edges of my sketchbook.
She leans over my shoulder, pressing her chest against my arm, looking up at me with those doe eyes. "Can I see?"
Not the sketchbook. The shit I have in here, of her, will terrify her. Kaylee is sweet. Innocent. I haven't asked, but I'd bet—I have bet Dean—she's a virgin.
My cock rouses at the thought of being the first inside her. Fuck, my lips, my tongue, my fingers—every part of me wants to be her first.
Not happening.
"You looking for a nautical tattoo?" I shoot back.
Her smile spreads over her cheeks. "Maybe. What do you suggest?"
I drag my fingertips over her shoulder, drawing the shape that best suits her. It's a bad idea, touching her like this. It's doing shit to me.
And from the way her eyelids are pressing together and her lips are parting with a sigh, I'm pretty sure it's doing shit to her.
Fuck, I need a thousand cold showers.
Even if Kaylee wasn't Em's best friend, she's a sweet girl. Someone who deserves a nice guy. A guy who can give her a normal life. Not an asshole who destroys everything he touches.
Even so, I trace the outline of a would-be tattoo up to the tip of her shoulder. "A mermaid."
"I like it."
"I know. You've seen The Little Mermaid a thousand times."
"At least two thousand." She looks up at me. "What do you say? Right now? I'm finally old enough to sign the form."
"Okay." I take her hand and pull her to her feet. "Let's walk to the shop. One topless mermaid."
Her eyes go wide. She stammers, presses her toes together. The plastic of her heels clicks. Her teeth sink into her lip. "I, uh..."
"Hate having your bluff called?"
"No, I just... I need to think about it a little more."
"Bullshit." I can't help but smile. She's adorable flustered.
"No, just regular... uh... that isn't why I came out here."
I arch a brow.
She scoots toward me. It's a tiny movement. Soft. More like the Kaylee I know. The sober one.
"Well, it's my birthday." Her fingers curl around my wrist. "And I want a birthday kiss."
How about a birthday fuck? How about a birthday coming on my face until my lips are numb?
"I only give birthday spankings." My voice is steady even though my heart is pounding against my chest. Fuck, the thought of bending Kaylee over that table and—
"Okay." She presses her lips together. "Let's go. Right here, right now."
"You can handle eighteen?"
She nods.
She can't, but it's tempting anyway...
"Let's go, Brendon." She takes my hand and places it on her hip. Her eyes meet mine. They bore into mine. They demand every thought in my head. Or at least all the ones about stripping her naked. "Or did I call your bluff?"
"Bend over and plant your hands on the glass if you want to find out." She is calling my bluff. And now I'm calling hers.
Only this is one time—
My sister saves me from my filthy thoughts. She bounces out the door, throws her arms around Kaylee, and pulls her from her seat. "Stop hiding from all the guys at the party."
