. . .
I’m lying on my bed staring at a paused video frame of Reed Hayes like an obsessed woman.
He’s behind his bar in the clip; shoulders flexing under his flannel, forearms moving smoothly in circles across the polished wood, jaw clenched with focus.
The warm amber lights soak into every line of his body, turning him into trouble carved out of shadow and bourbon.
He glances up toward the camera, toward me.
The memory of his hand curling in my hair, the heat of our kiss, hits me with full force.
I snap the laptop shut before I do anything embarrassing, like lick the screen.
My phone buzzes.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Snatching my phone off my comforter, I press the side button to preview the incoming message.
Reed
Every mile between us is pissing me off, because I can still taste your lips and I’m nowhere near finishedwith you.
The way you broke that kiss like you needed air? I want to steal every breath you take when you get back here.
My brain short-circuits. My soul leaves my body. My toes curl so tightly I might never walk upright again.
It’s so bold of him to message me like this. I mean, I initiated it last time, AND we did have phone sex.
Layla? What are you babbling about?
Layla
So you admit you’re thinking about my mouth right now?
The typing bubbles appear without hesitation, like he didn’t even put the phone down.
Reed
I haven’t stopped thinking about your mouth since the second I walked away from it.
And I’m done pretending I didn’t want more.
That phone call shattered every shred of restraint I had left.
Heat surges through my veins, and like clockwork, my pussy throbs, and I can feel myself getting wet.
Before I can respond, Catalina blows up my phone, her messages flooding in.
Catalina
FAMILY DINNER NEXT SATURDAY HOE
I have a HUGEannouncement
Like you’re going to freak out
I want EVERYONE there, including you, because you’re family
