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Talon
was around somewhere. Probably close. The boys were out back.
Anyone could walk by and see us making out by the front door.
Anyone.
I didn’t care. Not in the slightest.
Every part of me became hypersensitive and tingly as Bryce swept his tongue into my mouth. He tasted of vanilla, oak, a touch of caramel. Peach Street bourbon. Of course. Talon had given him a drink of his favorite.
I wasn’t a bourbon drinker, but mixed with the essence of Bryce, this whiskey was my new passion. An elixir I wanted more and more of.
When Bryce deepened the kiss, I groaned. It wasn’t the bourbon at all. God, no. It was all Bryce. The intense flavor, the fragrance of cedarwood and spice, the powerful pressure of his firm lips on mine…
All Bryce.
All me.
All Bryce and me.
No wonder I’d yearned to complete our earlier kiss. This was heaven. Pure heaven.
Reality hit me like a brick, and I broke the kiss with a smack. Bryce’s blue eyes widened, but I didn’t explain. I grabbed his hand, looking around quickly, and pulled him out of the foyer, down the hallway to my bedroom. Once we were inside, I closed the door quietly and locked it.
“Marj—”
I quieted him with a touch of my fingers to his lips. “Shh.” Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him toward me, our lips meeting once more.
I’d been ready to take the lead, but I didn’t have to. He thrust his tongue into my mouth and kissed me deeply. Passionately. I eagerly returned his enthusiasm, our tongues dueling and twirling.
I’d dreamed of this for so long. So, so long.
Watching all my brothers find love.
Love?
Why was I thinking about love?
This was just a kiss with a man I was very attracted to, a man I’d known since…
Oh, God…
Stop. Need to stop.
Don’t want to stop…
I didn’t have to. Bryce pulled away, breaking the suction of our mouths.
His eyes seared into mine. They were dark blue and smoky with desire. I touched his cheek, his sandy stubble rough under my smooth fingertips. Rough. Perfect.
He grabbed my wrist, gently removing my hand. “Don’t,” was all he said.
I bit my lip. The word “sorry” hovered back in my vocal cords, but I couldn’t bring it forth. Simple. I wasn’t sorry. I wasn’t sorry at all.
Finally, I said, “Why?”
He turned away from me, saying nothing.
