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“I can’t explain. It would involve breaking promises that involve my sister and my nephew. If I can tell you, I will.”
She tilts her head, looking like she might argue, then her shoulders slump. My savage mind guides my gaze to her breasts again, over her belly, to her hips. When her shoulders slump, her whole body shakes seductively for only me.
“I’ll get you some blankets,” she says, walking away.
How will I survive a night in the same house as her without caving to temptation?
* * *
I lie on the couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how completely insane this is. I’m sleeping—or trying to—in the living room of the daughter of the man… I can’t even finish the thought. It’s too deranged.
Yet there’s something that’s niggling at me even more. It’s the fact I’m down here instead of in bed with my woman. I should be with her right now, my arms wrapped around her curvy body, feeling her lust, her desire for safety and steaminess, hereverything.
I sit up, rubbing my hand over my face. I can see the clock from the moon shining and streetlight filtering through the curtains. It’s two a.m., and sleep feels a long, long way off. The downstairs toilet is busted, so I head upstairs, but that’s just an excuse.
Honestly, I don’t even need to use the toilet. It’s more like this hunger inside me, directing my movements, guiding me just outside her bedroom door. I pause there, breathing slowly, placing my ear against the door, and then almost fall over when she pulls the door open. I stumble into her bedroom. Guilt cuts into me when she reflexively yells, shock capturing her young curvy body. When I catch my balance, I see her staring at me. Her hair’s even more messy-sexy than it was earlier.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
There’s something in her tone. It’s as if sheknowswhat I’m doing and doesn’t completely disapprove.
“Jamie?” she murmurs.
Stop. There’s a voice in my head. Maybe my sister’s, maybehis. Maybe fate. I don’t know, but it’s telling me to stop, and I should listen, but I keep walking right up to her.
“You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are, do you?”
She bites down and gets all wide-eyed again.
“I can tell by looking at you. You don’t know how perfect you are when you pout or run a hand through your messy hair. You don’t know how difficult it’s been for me to stop myself from kissing you.”
“Jamie,” she whispers, and I can’t tell if she’s going to ask me to kiss her or stop.
It’s too late. I lean in and press my lips against hers. There’s a brief moment of hesitation, as if she knows she shouldn’t let her dad’s killer do this, but then I feel her responding. Her body shifts against mine, breasts rubbing against me.
I groan as our mouths open, tasting her, experiencing her warmth, want, hunger, need, everything. My hands glide down her hips, and that’s when I know I will wake up on the couch, but no. This is real. I squeeze onto her hips, claiming her curviness.
“Don’t do that,” she whispers, leaning back and staring at me.
“Why?” I growl, claiming her hips harder.
“Do you…likeit?” she whispers. “Touching me there?”
“Don’t you?”
“Ido, but…”
Suddenly, I get what she’s aiming at. She thinks her juicy, perfectly thick hips are something to be ashamed of. With a groan, I hold them even tighter, pulling her right up against me so she can feel the solid outline of my dick.
“You can feel how badly I want you,” I groan. “You can feel how hot this makes me.Youmake me. You’re curvy in the best way, Lucy. You’re not allowed to doubt that when I’m around.”
She blinks, a rush of emotion claiming her features. She looks like she wants to celebrate, thensheleans forward.Sheinitiates the kiss. I snarl as we sink back into the kiss. Her tongue darts around my mouth excitedly, like my woman doesn’t have much experience. That’s what I hope, what Ineed. She’s just mine: every inch, every breath, every experience.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she gasps, her hands clawing against my back. “You know that, right? After what you did?”
“I know.” I lean down and brush my lips against her cheek. “It’s wrong. Maybe there’s something wrong withus, but I can’t stop.”
I smooth my hands around to her ass, then push against her, guiding her toward the bed.Stop, the voice says again, but I can’t. No, that’s not fair. That’s pushing away responsibility. The truth is, I won’t.
