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My eyes narrowly avoid her ample tits, staring directly at her face instead.
“I’m glad you’re here, Noah.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, looking around. “You obviously have company.”
“No company, just you and me.”
It clicks, finally. And I’m at a loss of what to do. If you had placed me in this exact situation two months ago, I’d have bent her over the expensive marble hall table and fucked her pretty little ass. But she’s Morgan’s sister, and I’m failing to understand her eagerness to please me knowing what happened between us.
She places her hands on my chest, caressing my shirt, and releases a soft moan. “Noah,” she murmurs, her bright red lips teasing me. “I know you’ve fantasized about me. I know you pushed the book deal to get closer to me. Do you want me? I’m all yours.”
Scarlett pulls me by the hand toward the kitchen. Only the light underneath the cupboards is switched on, leaving the room quite dim. Sliding her robe off, Scarlett jumps onto the countertop, spreading her legs open, giving me a widespread view of her pussy. I stare, in shock, then shift my eyes nervously to the fridge.
What the fuck is going on here?
I’m never one to be rendered speechless, priding myself on my excellent skills in situations just like this, but I’m completely stumped right now. No different than a sixteen-year-old boy losing his virginity for the first time. Awkward Jim in American Pie would sum this situation right up.
Her hands find their way around my backside, pulling me in closer to her while my body stiffens on cue.
“Fuck me, here, on this bench. Make me scream your name,” she moans, tilting her head back.
Here, before me, is Scarlett Winters.
The most desired woman in the world.
Men want her, and women want to be her.
The same women who prompted this ridiculous bet with Charlie.
I grab Scarlett’s wrist and pull it to the bench, restraining her. Just as I’m about to ask her how she could betray her sister and expect me to follow, I hear a gasp behind me. I turn around, dropping her wrist to be met with Morgan’s hostile face.
“Morgan,” I call out as she runs from the room.
I sprint through the house, chasing her outside until I’m within reach and pull her arm, stopping her.
She begins to fight me, thrashing her arms about while yelling profanities. “Let me fucking go, Noah,” she cries as I try to restrain her
“Morgan, please. What you saw isn’t what you think.”
“You’re fucking my sister! I know what I saw!”
“I wasn’t fucking your sister. Please, Morgan. Look at me,” I beg,
bending slightly, so our eyes are at the same level.
I can see the pain in her eyes, mixed with anger and hostility seeping through her veins as I clutch onto her hard. She’s dressed rather casually in a pair of jeans and a white tank, yet still looks as beautiful as the first day I saw her. I’ve missed her so much and wish she’d understand that I didn’t touch her sister and would rather be touching her.
I am making sweet love to her for the rest of my goddamn life.
She refuses to make eye contact but stills her body enough for me to be able to talk.
“I didn’t fuck her. Would you just fucking listen to me?”
“Why, Noah?” She removes her arm from my grip. “You choose never to listen to me. Then you give me an ultimatum. Why should I even think about listening to you?”
“Because I love you.”
There, I’ve said it.
