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Chapter 3
JAMISON
With a big yawnstretching my mouth open, I scratch my balls as I walk into the kitchen, then come to a complete stop when I find it already occupied. Not by my best friend and roommate, but by a woman. For a split second, I think it’s one of the women Reed randomly brings home, but the thought doesn’t fully form before I’m discarding it.
The woman in front of me can’t be mistaken for any other. Rayn Ledger is one of a kind. And she’s standing here in my kitchen cooking something on the stove. That’s not what surprises me though. She’s been in our kitchen plenty of times; has cooked for Reed and me more times than I can count. I’m not even surprised she’s here this early because she’s spent the night at our house on multiple occasions.
No, what has me frozen in place and fighting a sudden erection is what she’s wearing. A shirt that goes halfway down her legs—my guess is that it belongs to Reed—and a pair of thick socks that go up almost to her knees. That’s it. Her legs, what’s not covered by the shirt or socks, are bare. Her hair is swept up off her neck and pinned to the top of her head in some weird messy bun.
Fuck, but what I wouldn’t give to have the right to sneak up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist, and rest my lips against the back of her neck.
That thought has me shaking my head to try and get rid of it. She’s your step-sister, you ass, my mind screams.
I must make a noise because she suddenly whips around, the two-pronged fork she was holding slipping from her hand.
“Shit,” she mutters. Her eyes slip from me to the cooking utensil on the floor. “You scared the crap out of me.” Bending at the knees, she kneels and picks it up. “I didn’t expect you to get up so early.”
Giving my dick a firm mental talking to and hoping like hell it listens, I clear my throat. “I guess we startled each other. I didn’t expect to wake up with you in my kitchen.”
After she tosses the fork in the sink, she grabs another one from the drawer by the stove, turning to flip bacon over before she spins to face me again. I’m the opposite of her in just a pair of shorts. Her eyes linger on my bare chest for a moment before they move up to meet mine.
“I had a little too much to drink last night, so Reed brought me here. He’s taking me to get my car later. I hope that was okay.”
I lift one brow. “Since when has staying here ever been a problem?”
She quirks a grin. “Never.” A sizzling noise comes from behind her and she turns back to the stove, tossing over her shoulder. “I’m making breakfast. It should be ready soon.”
Of their own accord, my eyes move down her legs. I’ve seen Rayn in all manner of dress, but I have to admit, this outfit is my favorite.
Jerking my gaze away from temptation, I go to the fridge and open it. I don’t bother getting a glass, I just drink orange juice straight from the carton.
“Will your…,” she pauses for a moment, as if searching for the right word, “date from last night be joining us for breakfast?” She looks over her shoulder at me.
Was that a hint of jealousy in her voice?
I mentally scoff at the notion. Rayn would have to want me for herself to be jealous of another woman. She loves me, but in a purely innocent way a best friend or sibling would, no matter how much I may wish otherwise.
One side of my mouth lifts. “It just so happens I came home alone last night,” I inform her.
She jerks her head around so she’s fully facing the stove again then bobs it up and down. “Oh. I saw you with Marisa. I just assumed you brought her home. Or someone else.”
The thought had definitely crossed my mind. Especially after I saw Rayn come into Whiskey’s last night. The plan was for me and Reed to hit the bar, which usually means one or both of us bringing a woman home. Looks like neither of us scored.
“Wasn’t in the mood.”
Another head nod.
So far I’ve managed to keep my dick on a leash, but it all goes to shit when Rayn gets to her tippy toes and reaches for something out of the cabinet above the stove. Her shirt rides up, and I barely hold back a moan when I get a hint of the black cotton covering her ass. It’s no more than what I’ve seen when she wears a bikini, but something about her standing in my kitchen, wearing Reed’s shirt, that has my control nearly snapping.
Putting the carton of juice back in the fridge, I close the door a little harder than I mean to. Rayn whips around, one brow arched in question. Once again, her eyes move to my chest. I’m tempted to flex my pecs just to see what her reaction would be.
