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Wait. Nope, that’s wrong.
Cade Bryant doesn’t do a damn thing for any man if she doesn’t want to. No, she was doing that for herself. And my God, it was fucking hot.
My cock thickened, and my throat choked while I couldn’t tear my eyes away. How she was fingering herself and getting off in a room full of people. How Silas was whispering to her and making her come with everyone around, and heat shot through my veins. Not furious heat, aroused heat like I wanted to sit across the table and watch them together.
What the fuck?
And then I felt it on his hand—her slippery cum, and I swear I could smell her sweet musk on his skin, and my brain didn’t work. Only my body responded, which messed with my head and heart, and I only made it worse by going home and jerking off about it late that night…twice… and the next morning.
See, it’s bullshit.
I can’t forget Cade. Or that she’s with Silas.
But I can do this. Focus on someone else, not me and my drama.
I focus on my nephew.
Nicolas searches for the blue LEGOs that look like captain’s chairs while I just watch. Usually, his mom, my little sister Renie’s here too. But for the first time, she asked me to babysit so she could go on a date.
I try not to be the protective big brother. Renie’s twenty-four and an adult, but she’s had it rough. She got pregnant with Nicolas at eighteen. I was twenty-three at the time, living in LA, and had my own drama case, but I remember my mama calling me about it.
But who was I to judge Renie?
Teens have sex. I told my mama to support her. I did. I sent her money. I bought her this beachfront condo, and Renie’s kicked ass. As a single mom, she went to college for an accounting degree and now works at a small firm. As far as I know, she doesn’t date around. She’s too protective over Nicolas.
Just like me.
“Argh!” Nicolas throws the LEGOs down. “This is too hard! Uncle Red, it’s too hard!” He flops down on the floor beside me, “I can’t do it,” and starts to cry.
Maybe the Space Shuttle was ambitious for six.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I smooth his hair. “Come here.”
I lift him into a hug. He’s also tired. It’s ten o’clock and past his bedtime, and I should’ve listened to Renie’s strict eight o’clock rule. This is why. Nicolas melts into a heap of frustration in my arms, and I love him.
“It’s okay, little man. We don’t have to finish, and it’s just a toy. We’ll go putt-putt tomorrow, and if you want me to help you again, I will. Okay?” I wipe his cheeks, and he nods with his teary blue eyes. “Let’s get you ready for bed, and I’ll read you some more Danny Do’s. Sound good?”
An hour later, I finally have him asleep. He’s the cutest kid in Superman pajamas, and I watch him for a while before plopping down on my sister’s sofa, flipping on the flatscreen, and scrolling.
The click of the front door turns my head to Renie entering, and I can tell… she’s crying.
“Hey, hey, hey.” I jump up and rush to her. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“No.” She won’t look at me.
“Renie, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She lies, and I pull her into a hug.
“Was it your date? Did he hurt you?”
Because I’ll kill him.
That sudden impulse humbles me.
“No, I’m fine.” She pulls away, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “He’s just an asshole, that’s all.”
“Renie, so help me God, if a man hurts you—”
