I’m too shocked to move. The press of her lips on my flesh, as fleeting and gentle as it is, stops my heart in my chest.
She pulls back, and our eyes lock.
My brain short-circuits, my body taken over by impulse and reflex and desire and instinct. I can’t blame the wine. We didn’t have any. I can only blame my own lack of restraint and the fact that she is clearly irresistible.
I lean down and press my lips against hers.
The world shifts under my feet and then disappears. Everything distills down into the pressure of her lips against mine, the warmth of her fingers clutching my shoulder, the smell of her perfume, light and bright and floral. I lose all sense of time, of my limbs. My arms have a will of their own, one hand sliding down her back to the curve at the base, the other lifting and cupping around the soft skin of her neck.
Her tongue brushes mine, and her grip on my shoulders tightens and then runs down my chest. “I love these sweater vests,” she murmurs.
“What?”
But instead of answering, she kisses me again. What were we talking about?
She tastes like violets in spring.
She moans into my mouth, and a rush of pure lust shoots through my veins.
A loud knock breaks through the fog of desire, like jumping out of a sauna and into an ice bath.
We release each other at the same moment.
I glance around. What happened?
There’s another knock.
We both turn toward the sound. Someone is outside, peering through the glass of the door.
The surprise visitor is young. Early twenties, maybe. She has golden brown hair, and is wearing a long, cream-colored, thick coat.
She waves frantically.
My mind is too frayed to grasp what is happening.
“Oh, shit.” Vivien’s eyes meet mine. “It’s my sister.”
Chapter Thirteen
Vivien
* * *
Spencer opens the door.
Audrey tosses him a smile as she enters, a flirty flash of bright teeth while simultaneously flipping back her glossy, dark golden hair like she’s walking onto a red carpet instead of old polished hardwood in an attorney’s office.
My fingers itch to push her back outside.
Instead, I ask the most important questions. “What are you doing here? Is Mother with you?”
She presses her manicured hand to her chest, her lips turning down. “Is that any way to talk to your baby sister, in front of your . . . friend?” She bites her lip. Her perfectly tinted, moisturized lip. She’s always put together, eyebrows perfectly shaped, makeup flawlessly natural. Her hair is darker than mine, but we have the same blue eyes.
Half sister. Although once upon a time she was my baby sister and I loved her more than life. “I’m just surprised. Sorry. It came out harsher than I intended. Uh, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my sister, Audrey.”
“Hi there.” She reaches out to shake his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you.” He grips her fingers for a split second and releases. “I’ll let you two talk. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” He raises his brows at me.
