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“Hey Josie,” he growls. “How’s your Friday night going?”
What kind of loaded question is that? Eyes wide, I stare at him as my mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Heat floods my cheeks when I remember how scantily clad I am. Quickly, I grab the sides of my robe and yank them together again before wrapping my arms around myself. Shit, I’m half-naked in front of my stepsister’s dad.
But the silence between us is electric. Cyrus is watching me, and those intense blue eyes don’t miss a thing. They rove over my sensitized curves, stopping to linger over the shadow between my thighs, as well as caressing the dark smudges of my nipples behind the sheer fabric. Shit shit shit!
“Um, hi,” I finally manage for the umpteenth time. “What are you doing here?’
That sexy smirk comes out again as he holds up a plastic bag.
“Alyssa said she was sick so I brought her some chicken noodle soup.”
Unfortunately, my brain can’t seem to compute right now. I stare at the thing in his hand like it’s a bomb. It’s as if I’ve never seen a take-out container of chicken noodle soup before, much less understand that it can help colds. Geez, Josie. Pull it together. You’re embarrassing yourself!
I try to lose my sudden case of brain fog, shaking my head.
“Um, what?”
Cyrus laughs, and it’s a deep, sexy sound that reminds me of the fantasy that just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had. But I shake my head again, trying to force those thoughts back into the deep recesses of my brain where they belong. I do not need to be thinking about X-rated images right now. Not when the man of my dreams is standing ten feet in front of me, in the flesh. He grins again, flashing even white teeth.
“I said I brought my daughter some soup, that’s all. When I talked to Alyssa earlier, she said she wasn’t feeling well.”
“Oh.” I pause and take a deep breath, trying to get myself together. Damn Alyssa because she’s such a little liar! This is my stepsister’s fault because she probably told her dad she was sick just to get him off the phone. But now look what’s happened! I smile weakly while wrapping the thin fabric of my robe even tighter around my body.
“Um, oh yes. Well, I think she might have been sick this morning, but she’s better now. In fact, she went out because she’s feeling so much better!” I say cheerily. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
But Cyrus merely shoots that dazzling grin my way again.
“So we’re alone, are we?”
Oh god. Something in his words has my senses prickling, and I smile weakly at him.
“Actually yes. How did you get in, by the way? I could swear that Alyssa shut the door on her way out.”
Her dad merely shrugs.
“Yes, but it didn’t close all the way because it was slightly ajar when I came by. Someone let me into the building when they were exiting, and you guys should be more careful about that because New York isn’t so safe for young women.”
Oh shit. So Cyrus came into our building, came up to our apartment, opened the door, and let himself in. He’s probably been sitting on the couch listening to my personal porn session the entire time. My heart thumps rapidly and in fact, I have to bite my lip so that I don’t cringe. Why is this happening? But I decide to clear things up in one fell swoop. It’s better to know than to be left wondering, after all. I stare into those gleaming blue eyes and ask in a stern tone, “Cyrus, how long have you been here?”
My voice comes out choked, but he just smirks again.
“Long enough,” he drawls.
Fuck. His voice is different now. Deeper, and there’s a huskiness to his tone I’ve never heard. And damn, but I can’t stop myself from eating him up with my eyes. He’s so gorgeous in that dark suit, and his broad form seems to fill up the entire apartment. Plus, he’s looking at me with a devilish smile that makes me quiver in places that I can’t deny. Why is this happening? With my stepsister’s father, no less?
But then again, does it really matter that we used to be related? Alyssa and I aren’t stepsisters anymore. Nor is he married to my mom. In fact, Cyrus and Marilyn were only wed for a year before divorcing, and that was a long time ago. The marriage barely even started before it ended, so is my attraction wrong? After all, he’s a virile older man, and one that I happen to fantasize about non-stop too.
I swallow heavily, and then shoot him a brilliant smile.
“Um, so did you see? Or hear what I was doing?” I manage in a steady tone.
