“You want it?” I extended my arms. “Come and get it.”
She took the bait. Shay grabbed my hand and tugged, unsuccessfully pulling me from the bed. I resisted only enough to toss her off-balance. She tumbled forward, falling into my arms.
Then I did what every red-blooded American patriot would do.
I tucked her under me, wrapped one hand in her hair while the other caressed her cheek, and I lowered my lips to hers.
What she squealed in protest silenced with the flick of my tongue against hers. Shay’s full, perfect lips surrendered within moments, softening and nibbling with the intensity of my kiss. I devoured her, worshiped her, and promised to replicate every single flick, bite, and suck on her other, equally-deserving areas.
I wanted more than a kiss.
I needed more than a kiss.
Christ, after everything I had gone through—the injuries and recoveries, dealing with Mom’s bullshit, hiding her cocaine-induced death that the cops kept silent out of respect for the family’s money—I deserved more than R&R. T&A was more like it, and the only one I wanted to recuperate with was Shay.
She warmed beneath me. I broke my hold on her lips to kiss the cocoa perfection of her neck. I nibbled over the delicate hollow at the base of her throat.
She had liked that before.
She shivered.
She still did.
Shay hid nothing from me, not while she writhed in full-body shudders from just the barest hint of my touch.
And I planned to do much more than touch.
I gripped her hips, hard and fierce, just like before. Her low purr surged my blood to my cock, and I pressed that promise against her.
She remembered that too.
Gasped. Scowled.
Pushed?
“Get off of me.”
Whoa.
I did as the lady commanded, backing away as she burst off the bed. She covered her face, placing as much distance between her and my petty officer as she could.
“Easy.” I raised my hands. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Shay’s voice shrilled. “What’s wrong is that we are brother and sister.”
“Not…really.” I shrugged. “Technically, I guess. Is it that big of a deal?”
Apparently it mattered to her. “I can’t believe I kissed you.” She glanced down. “You unbuttoned my shirt? How! When?”
I wiggled my fingers, catching a glimpse of a lacey bra stacked with cocoa secrets. “It’s a talent.”
“Oh my God!” She turned to fix her blouse. “This absolutely, positively can’t happen, Zach. It can’t. This is so wrong.”
“Calm down.”
“We’re family.”
“And we didn’t do anything.” My throbbing cock could attest to that. “We’re fine. Look at us. Brother and sister. Perfectly legit. Not fucking.”
“Not fucking. Right.”
I’d come just from hearing her say the word. Damn it. I hoped the mansion had the coldest goddamned water running through its pipes. I suffered in the purest fantasy of the press of her lips, the tightness of her slit, and the perfect breathy gasp of her excitement.
Shay was worked up too, but not in the good way.
She paced, biting a lip swollen from my kisses and twisting her fingers in the long curls that deserved to be spread over a pillow, not tied within a low ponytail. I rose from the bed. I didn’t know what hurt more—my head or my fucking cock. I grabbed my shirt and duffle bag.
“Take the room,” I said.
Shay looked at me, still panting from the breathless excitement of what almost happened.
Should have happened.
Goddamn it.
“Really?” She said.
“Yeah. I don’t care where I crash. Take it.”
She nodded, swallowing her victory with the grace of a champion. “Thank you.”
“Yeah, enjoy it.” I tapped on the door frame, catching her eye with a sworn promise. “But remember one thing.”
She crossed her arms. “What’s that?”
I savored her form one last time, searing it into a memory I’d have to use up later. “The next time I step foot in this room, it’ll be cause you invited me. And then?” I winked. “We won’t be getting much sleep.”
Chapter Eight - Shay
“Your call is important to us. Please stay on the line. Did you know you can do all your billing by e-mail? Just log into your account via the login portal—”
That was it. I was done.
A girl could only take so many automated operators before snapping. I’d chuck the phone in the garbage disposal. I muted the call before shouting.
“How in the world am I supposed to log in when I called for internet setup!”
Two hours on hold just to get the internet switched into my name. The damn house was too big for one router, so we had a system of three linked up with triangulated signals and boosters and effects straight out of Star Trek. And we still couldn’t get anything to work because nothing had transferred to my name yet.
The ISP was only the latest in the line of uncooperative customer service agents. The power supplier was less than pleased by my father’s photocopied death certificate. The gas company insinuated I lied because no one living in a thirty thousand square foot mansion would be managing the transfer herself. And the municipality reminded me of the nastygram in the mail. Apparently, my father built his brick fence four inches too high and this somehow posed a threat to the township’s development ordinance.
If only the brick could grind like my teeth. I’d wear it down in only a couple nights.
I checked the time. I was supposed to be back at the college in less than an hour to deal with student teaching arrangements for the next semester. Since I was living at the mansion, I had to finagle a new assignment, one closer to home but out of my assigned school district.
That didn’t make my advisor happy.
Music pumped from the stairs. I stared over the kitchen counter as Zach strutted past me to get another Gatorade from the fridge. I averted my eyes.
“Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I asked.
Zach flexed as he drank. He showed off his perfect body, and it wasn’t an accident. Zach loved nothing more than teasing me with the one temptation I wholeheartedly denied.
I hated that he had no shame about it. What he lacked in humility, he packed in sheer, brute muscle. I never met a man more focused on fitness and strength than him. It must have been a SEAL thing. I tried not to imagine him in the gym.
Shirtless. Lifting weights. Grunting. Sweating.
“Like what you see?” Zach offered me his dimpled grin.
Great. I stared. I checked my chin for drool. No wetness there. Wish I could say the same about other places.
I put the phone on speakerphone while the company blared tinny music at me. I handed Zach a glass before he took another drink directly from the milk carton.
“Please,” I said. “That’s gross.”
His eyes revealed him—an impish green that promised only trouble, aggravation, and another night alone in bed, regretting ever sending him away.
“You’d had worse,” he teased.
And he’d never let me live it down. I wagged the glass. “You’re a guest, not a puppy. I shouldn’t have to housebreak you.”
“I’d love to see you get a collar on me.”
Nope. Wasn’t playing. Too aggravated with the phone call. I groaned again.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Life.”
“Care to be more specific?”
I ended the call. Those were two hours I’d never recover. “I’ve gotta go to the campus to rearrange my schedule, and I still haven’t sorted out the internet.”
Zach shrugged. “I’ll do it.”
Yeah, right. “I can do it when I get back.”
“Let me. I live here too.”
I arched an eyebrow.
He smirked. “For a little bit. Or, until you beg me to stay.”
“Unlikely.”