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The family photo had been taken the day we moved into our house in Charlotte. Well, technically, five of us were in the picture. Natalia was in the background. She’d been eight at the time and excited to have new neighbors.
I set a finger on the frame by Dad’s face. “I’ll keep Anthony safe for you. I promise.” I stuffed down the emotions rising to the surface and searched for something to wear. I swapped my towel for boxer briefs and a pair of jeans, avoiding the window with the blinds still open.
While grabbing a clean shirt from my duffel bag, there was a knock at my bedroom door. “I’m decent. Come in.”
When the door opened, I saw Natalia standing there instead of my mom.
How long had I been staring at the photos? Apparently, longer than I realized if Natalia had changed into a dress and made her way to my house in that time.
Standing tall now, I tossed a look over my shoulder toward the window. Did she see me? Come here to give me hell, assuming I’d spied on her?
“Your mom was on her way out. She told me I’d find you up here,” she explained, drawing my focus back her way. “You didn’t see me getting dressed, did you?” Her brows slanted in suspicion.
I pointed a finger at my chest with my free hand. “I should be asking you that. I was in a towel a second ago. Did you see me?”
Natalia folded her arms over the white and yellow sundress that went to her ankles, hiding her long legs. “Nice save.” She wet her lips and teased her tongue along the seam. And damn if that small movement didn’t do things to me.
“Now you’re just fucking with me.”
“Excuse me?”
Guess I wasn’t as great as I’d believed at keeping a lid on my thoughts. I sure as hell hadn’t meant to voice those words, and I needed to switch gears and fast. “Are you here to give me your final answer?”
Her shoulders visibly relaxed, but she kept her arms locked over her chest as she continued to stare me down. “I’ll tell you if you put on a shirt.”
I dropped my attention to my chest before slowly working my gaze back to her face. “Does my lack of shirt distract you?” I teased.
She kept her eyes on my chest instead of dignifying me with a response, and I repositioned my shirt in front of my crotch, worried Natalia would notice my pitched jeans. They were old and faded and nowhere near stiff enough to conceal what I was packing right now. But with her looking at me like that, well, damn.
Brother’s ex. Brother’s ex, I did my best to down-boy the less-than-stellar throbbing situation below the belt.
“I was planning to only show up at this coffee date and cancel, but on second thought, I better stick it out with the doctor.” Her nude-colored glossy lips pursed together as she walked her gaze up the hard planes of my abdominal muscles to my chest.
“What do you mean?” I frowned, worried I did know what she was suggesting, and I didn’t like it.
“Stress,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Tension?” The word popped out like a question from that sweet, luscious mouth.
I bit down on my back teeth, doing my best not to surrender my thoughts out loud. My actual thoughts. But I stupidly unleashed the question anyway, “You want to get laid?” I tore my free hand through my wet hair, mussing it up. Agitated as hell was an understatement.
“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” Her soft tone did nothing to alleviate my frustration. In any part of my body. “You’re Anthony’s brother, and I’m sure you don’t want to know who your brother’s ex is going to . . .”
“Going to what?” I hissed, forcing out a harsh breath. How do you always have the power to get under my skin like this?
“You’re half-naked, and I . . . it’s been a long time since I’ve seen . . . muscles so up close,” she tossed out, her tone nervous. “Don’t flatter yourself, like I said, it’s been forever.”
You’re going to kill me, woman. I put on my shirt and rolled the soft gray fabric over my abs, feeling the need to be fully clothed at her words. “I don’t recommend you deal with your stress with someone you don’t know.”
Natalia’s arms fell to her sides as she took one step closer, and I inhaled her scent again. She needed some new soap.
“Are you saying I should handle my tension with someone I do know?”
How many guy friends did she have? I knew of Enzo, the head chef at her restaurant. And I only knew about him because my mother liked to bring the man up on our calls. “You know, there are other ways to deal with stress. Like running.” She was only a foot away from me now, and I curled my fingers into my palms at my sides to keep from reaching out and offering to help ease her tension.
I couldn’t stop myself from mentally mapping out the plan I’d execute to do that. I’d lay her on my bed and bunch her dress up to her waist. Slip a finger beneath her panties to see how wet she was before pulling them down her long, shapely legs. Set my face between her thighs and flick her clit with my tongue for a taste, and then—
