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Griffin rattles off an address. I turn around to grab a pen when the open door shocks me. Darcy stands there, staring at me—more so at my cock. It’s hard as fuck with precum dripping off the tip.
Just the tip.
Those words in my head slam into me. I said those words to someone. I hear them echo in my brain. When? I don’t remember.
Darcy doesn’t move. She’s transfixed, looking at me.
I glance down in case she’s not seeing what I think she is.
Yep, still hard, and her eyes on me makes my cock twitch. When I grab it, she jerks back.
“Shite, I’m sorry.” She looks away. “I can make you breakfast.”
“Okay.” I’m still holding my dick, making no attempt to cover up. The shocking wave of taboo lust hits me. The beast I try to tame roars to life, and I see myself pulling her into this bed behind me and fucking her into the mattress. She’s meant for Kieran, and she’s my kin. How fucking sick am I?
“Is there something in particular you want?” she asks with that lilt again.
You. Naked on that bed.
“Whatever you have,” I say, and she boldly meets my eyes.
Our gazes lock, and the thought that I was alone in this freak attraction to a relative vanishes. I feel her stare on my chest, and I walk toward her, out of my mind at this point.
But a noise has her gasping and slamming the door shut.
Fuck.
What the hell is going on here?
I rub one out rather than be hard all day, dress, and head downstairs. Amelia rushes around the living room, shoving papers into a large tote bag.
“Everything all right?” I worry they are planning a getaway for Darcy. And Sadie.
“The Caseys’ baby is early!”
Rian stands at the door. “We’ll miss the ferry, Mel.”
“You’re both going?” The idea of being alone in the house with Darcy worries me.
“I’m dropping her off and coming back,” Rian answers.
Whew…
I’m also glad Rian will be back tonight, so we can get to know each other better.
“Eggs and toast?” Darcy asks from behind me.
Her rose scent hits me. A buried memory surfaces, triggered by the sweet smell, but it’s blurry, and I can’t draw it in.
“That’s great. Thanks,” I say, thinking she’ll avoid my gaze when I turn around.
No such luck.
Only now do I see what she’s wearing, and my heart starts to pound. “Why are you in scrubs?”
“I have a job.” She pulls a sweater up one arm quickly. “I’m a nurse, remember?”
“Aye. But you’re going to work?”
