The time they spent apart was enough to numb the memories of high school and point out there were a lot worse things in life than an asinine stepbrother. When she was accepted into the Stanford Masters’ program and he offered to help her find a place to stay, she figured he’d changed.
She was right; he’d changed. He wasn’t the cute senior from high school anymore. He was oh-fuck-me sexy, and he was kinder than she remembered. Until he pulled shit like this morning, going out of his way to point out she wasn’t good enough for his friend.
She glanced at the clock on her tablet. Shit. Time to get to class. And she’d wasted her study time brooding over Logan. She must be more exhausted than she realized. He shouldn’t be able to throw her off her game like this.
Class was only a few minutes’ walk, so she gathered her stuff and hurried to take her exam. She didn’t need to ace her exam, but she’d prefer a top score.
She managed the test marginally better than she managed last-minute studying, but it felt like she was digging though molasses in her brain to find each answer. When it was over, a strange sense of relief settled in with her dread. There was no point in worrying any more; she’d done what she could. She had the practical part of the exam on Monday. That gave her the weekend to refresh everything, and she always did better with the hands-on portion.
And once she aced that, and had finals out of the way, she could go back to worrying about the baby, and how to handle that situation.
Except, when Friday night rolled around, Noah had friends over, and her earbuds weren’t enough to block out the noise. She retreated to the library for as long as she could, before they kicked her out. Saturday night was a repeat, but she didn’t have anywhere else to hide out.
A couple hours into the loud music and overlapping voices, she set her studies aside in frustration and went in search of Noah. How the hell did he fit this many people in their apartment? She found him in a corner of the living room, with a couple of girls and a guy.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” She definitely wanted privacy for what she was about to ask.
“Sure.” He broke away from the pack and joined her in a quieter spot in the hallway. “What’s up?” He stood close enough that each time he spoke, hot breath and alcohol caressed her face.
Jodie suppressed a wince. “Do you think this will go on much longer? I hate to be the party pooper, but I’ve got studying to do.”
“On a Saturday night? Even you’re not that boring.” Noah draped an arm around her shoulders, and guided her back toward the party.
She twisted away from him. “As beautifully cliché as this is, I am that boring, and— Never mind.” The last of her words landed against his back. She rolled her eyes and returned to her room.
She did her best to block out the chaos. Every time she found that perfect zone, where she could lose herself in the books, someone shouted or something shook the floor, and her focus shattered. A couple barged into her room, looked at her, giggled, and retreated again. She left the door open. It wasn’t as though it blocked out noise, and this way people would know the room was occupied.
A palm settled on her shoulder blade, searing through her shirt, and her body reacted to his familiar scent before her mind caught up. Logan.
“Only you would try to study through this.” His tone was playful but kind.
She whirled in her swivel chair to face him and saw he held up a key on a ring.
He clasped her wrist, and a shock of temptation raced over her. This was new. As much as she shouldn’t enjoy it, she did.
He pressed the key into her palm. “Go back to my apartment,” he said. “No one’s there. I’ll stay away tonight. You can get as much studying done as you need.”
“Are you sure?” Gratitude flitted inside.
He tugged her to her feet. “Completely. Go.”
“Thank you.”
“Logan.” The female voice carried over the other bedlam, and a second later, Phoebe Benjamin joined them in Jodie’s room. Phoebe intertwined her fingers with Logan’s and pulled him toward the living room. “Party’s out here, sexy.”
He looked at Jodie. She held up the key, forcing her smile to stay in place. “Go. Have fun. Thanks for this.”
As he left with Phoebe, she swallowed every last bit of disappointment and buried it deep. His life was none of her business.
Chapter Four
Every instinct roaring through Logan wanted him to go after Jodie and apologize for whatever caused her flash of a scowl. Which was why, instead, he let Phoebe lead him to an empty corner of couch and position herself in his lap.
When she squirmed against him, his body reacted without permission. He wouldn’t mind if this were Jodie rubbing against him. No. Don’t go there. His brain caught up with reality, and he adjusted, to glide her off his legs.
“You’re not here, are you?” Phoebe slid to the cushion next to him. She was one of his best friends. They’d been fuck buddies in the past, but when he became a teaching assistant, they agreed it was safer to stop fooling around than risk being accused of breaking the code of conduct. That didn’t stop her from teasing him when she got a chance.
He pinched himself. “Pretty sure this is exactly where I am.”
“Nope. Half your brain walked out the door with your little sis.”
“Don’t call her that.” Or maybe Logan should let the nickname stick. It was a good reminder. “I’m just not feeling the fun tonight.”
She dragged a nail down his chest. “You haven’t really tried.” She was the only person he trusted with the knowledge he was attracted to Jodie. Phoebe teased him about it sometimes, but she was a sympathetic ear overall.
“Is this your way of helping? It’s not working.” An image teased his thoughts—Jodie next to him instead, pressed close and looking up at him through her lashes, hands tucked in her lap. He’d lift her chin, tangle his fingers in her hair, and crush his mouth to hers. Phoebe had a point. Half his brain did walk out the door with his sister.
Phoebe slumped back in her seat. “You’re right.”
“I’m glad we agree.”
“I’ve had too much to drink.” She dropped her gaze. “Give me a lift home?”
“Sure.” He stood and helped her to her feet, grateful for the excuse to get out of here. “And thank you.”
Fifteen minutes later, he dropped Phoebe off in front of her house.
“Go home. Or wherever Jodie is,” she said as she left the car.
“Not happening,” he called after her retreating figure.
Great. Now what? He’d promised Jodie a few hours of quiet, and it hadn’t even been one, so he couldn’t go home. She probably wouldn’t complain, if he left her in peace, but flickers of fantasy continued to tease him. Sliding up behind Jodie… Kissing along the back of her neck… Pressing her against the wall and gliding his hands between her legs…
He pounded the steering wheel with the side of his fist. This needed to be under control before he saw her again. He cranked the stereo, pointed his car toward the highway, and drove. With the windows down, the tang of the ocean helped cool his skin. He dove into the music, and with time, it painted over his out-of-control thoughts.
It was after two in the morning when he pulled into his apartment parking lot. Jodie’s car was in the visitor area. That was fine; he told her she could stick around. He repeated the assurance in his head as he made his way to his place.
Her shoes were by the front door when he stepped inside. He was about to call out her name, until he saw her sleeping on the couch. Her hair was draped over half her face, and her dark lashes stood out starkly against her pale skin. The way she lay on her side showed off the curve of her figure.
Apparently he didn’t stay out long enough. He dragged his gaze away from the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath. He crouched next to her and gently shook her shoulder. “Jodie.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she focused on him. “Hey. What time is it?” A so
ft smile tugged up the corners of her mouth.
Don’t stare. Definitely don’t think about kissing those lips. “Late.” He helped her sit up. “Come on. You can sleep in the guest room.”
“’Kay.” She leaned into him when she stood.
Logan had to wrap an arm around her waist, to keep her upright. Her weight against him was warm and deceptively innocent.
When they reached the bed, she whirled and kissed him on the cheek. Her lips scorched his skin. “Sometimes it’s not so bad, having you for a brother.”
She dropped into bed, and seconds later, her breathing evened out. She was already asleep again.
He forced his feet one in front of the other as he walked to his room. He wasn’t sure what fucked with his head more—the kiss or the fact that her comment didn’t kill his erection.
Chapter Five
Monday afternoon, Jodie stood in front of Logan’s apartment. She knew what she was saying Saturday night, when he put her to bed. It might have come out as a drowsy, innocent statement, but it was meant to cement facts in her head. For instance, that Logan was off-limits.
A little decent sleep and doing well on her practical exam earlier had her in her right-mind again. The sun beat down on her back, she was in a good mood, and she couldn’t put off this visit. She rang the bell.
Logan answered a moment later. His shirt was unbuttoned and his jeans hung low on his hips. She was grateful her hands were full, or she would have reached out and trailed a finger along the definition along his torso and down to the V disappearing into his waistband.
“What’s up?” His question snapped her out of her trance.
She shoved the small cardboard box she held into his hands. “Mom sent you this.” It wasn’t unusual. Her mother frequently included cookies for Logan when she sent Jodie a package.
“Nice timing. I’ve been craving.” He took the gift and turned away. “Come on in. What kind are they?”
She closed the door behind her and followed him to the kitchen. “Not a clue. It’s your care package.”
“What kind did you get?” When he turned to face her again, he’d done up a few buttons on his shirt. It didn’t do much to eliminate the temptation. She knew what lay underneath.
She looked at him, puzzled by the question. “I didn’t. She sends me things like new clothes. Today it was a little black dress she swore would look great on me.” Though, it was already tight around the middle, and wouldn’t fit in a couple of weeks. She really needed to figure out soon how to tell people. “She only sends cookies for you.”
“I can’t believe I never knew that. It doesn’t seem right, somehow.”
She shrugged. “It is what it is. I know how to make cookies.”
“But this way you wouldn’t have to.” Logan cut the tape off the outer box and pulled out a plastic container filled with lemon bars. He popped the seal on the lid and grabbed a bar. Powdered sugar fluttered to the counter. “I’m not eating these alone.” He grabbed a napkin from the holder on the counter, placed the pastry on it, and handed it to Jodie.
“If you insist.”
“The only downside to these? There’s no way to eat them without making a mess.” He took a bite off one corner. White floated down, dotting his fingers, shirt, and chest.
She could lick some of that away. Instead, she forced a playful laugh and stepped around him. She grabbed utensils from the drawer. “You’re not trying hard enough.”
“You’re going to eat these with a knife and fork?”
“You’re jealous you didn’t think of it first.” She made a production of sectioning off one piece, spearing it, then shaking the loose confectioners’ sugar off before popping it in her mouth.
“Show off.” He pinched a bit of lemon cream onto his finger and smudged it on her cheek.
This time her laugh was genuine. “You’re such an asshole.” She swiped at her face and brought her fingers away sticky. Her breath caught, and her throat went dry, when she looked up and met Logan’s gaze.
His dark eyes seemed to bore into her, making her pulse race.
“What?” She intended the question to be playful, but the waver in the single word betrayed her.
“You missed a spot.” His voice was gruff. He grasped her wrist, and electricity raced through her. “May I?” he asked.
“Yes.” Jodie’s thoughts were so muddled, she didn’t know what she was agreeing to.
He raised one of her fingers to his mouth, sucked in the tip, and traced his tongue along the pad. She whimpered.
“You like that?” he asked.
God yes. The best response Jodie could manage was a nod. In the back of her mind, a familiar voice reminded her this was wrong. She didn’t listen. Didn’t care to.
He licked her middle finger clean next. Each swipe over her skin drilled to her core. He dipped his head toward hers, and the tantalizing scent of soap and spice filled her senses.
Logan flicked his tongue over her cheek, where he’d smudged the lemon bar moments earlier, then kissed a line to her mouth.
She groaned against his lips. Don’t do this. She silenced the mental voice. This tiny taste wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She interlocked her fingers at the back of his neck and pressed her body to his.
His hard form, from his shoulders to his legs, was unyielding. He moved his hands to her hips and nudged her, until her back hit the counter. He lifted her to sit on the Formica and pushed between her legs. His hard length nudged her mound.
Jodie dragged her nails along his shoulders, needing something to grip. His tongue slid into her mouth and danced with hers. They broke apart with a gasp—his or hers, she wasn’t sure.
Logan rested his forehead against hers. “This is a bad idea.” His voice was breathy.
“Supremely.”
“You’re my sister.”
She’d cringed in the past, hearing that, but never like this. “Stepsister. We’re not related by blood.”
His chuckle was strained. “You’re a wicked temptress.”
“Me, Mr. Sin-in-a-Sexy-Wrapper?” She flushed as the words passed her lips. Where did that come from?
“Excuse me? No, wait. Don’t take it back or explain. I like it.”
Jodie did too. So help her, with every tingle and spark spilling through her, this was a hundred times better than her fantasies, and it was only a taste.
Logan nipped her ear, his breath hot on her cheek. “So just this once? Get it out of our system? See what it’s like?”
“God yes.” This time she spoke the words. When he kissed her again, hard and hungrily, any remaining reservations evaporated.
He dropped one hand to her breast. When he dragged his thumb across her nipple, she groaned against his mouth. He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and pulled away with a chuckle. “What else”—he kissed her jaw—“can I do”—he traced a path down her neck—“to hear more of those incredible noises?”
“I guess you’ll have to get creative.” She heard herself say the words, almost as if she was watching this from a removed perspective, and in the middle of it at the same time. She was making out with the man she’d tried for years to see as nothing more than her brother, while she was pregnant with someone else’s child.
It was surreal, but at the same time she didn’t want to stop.
It only took a deft flick of his wrist and a twist of his fingers, to undo her jeans. He glided his hands along her bare skin and under her waistband, until he reached her back. “Hmm… Sounds hard.” He wedged his palms under her ass, and pulled her closer. His erection dug into her, insistent, emphasizing his point. He dragged his mouth along her jaw. “See what kind of bad puns you drive me to?”
“They’re fun, but they’re not very creative.” Jodie didn’t know where she wanted attention the most. Her nipples tingled from the brief tease, and focusing on them would draw this moment out, but the throbbing between her legs was more insistent.
“I can fix that.” He shifted his hands l
ower, and she adjusted her position to let him push her jeans and panties down.
She let out a squeak when her bare ass hit cold Formica.
He didn’t pause, dragging the clothing down her legs, knocking her sandals off, and tossing her pants aside.
He kissed her leg at the knee, she gasped.
“Like that, but more of it.” He licked up the inside of her thigh, a millimeter at a time.
The agonizingly slow journey made her wet with anticipation. By the time he reached her sex, it took the last of her restraint to keep from squirming with need. When he trailed his tongue along her slit, she whimpered. He closed his mouth around her clit, and her hips bucked. His tongue tracing circles around the swollen nub drew a loud cry, and she tangled her fingers in his hair, needing something to cling to.
Her thoughts no longer raced. A teensy bit of her said she should question this or stop it, or at least hesitate a little more. That voice was shoved in a closet by the way Logan licked her toward ecstasy. Her hips bucked with each pass, and climax built inside, stealing her air and making her head swim.
Her every sense flared to life, as pleasure snaked through her. The rough texture of his tongue. His familiar scent mingled with her arousal. The sharp, lingering tang of lemon on her tongue. And the way his groans mingled with her gasps, telling her he enjoyed the giving as much as she was the receiving.
She screamed when her orgasm crashed over her, blurring the lines between sensation until the world glowed behind her eyelids. When his touch became too much, and she jerked away instinctively, he stood and pressed his mouth to hers.
Tasting herself—enjoying the tang of her juices—was a new layer of wrong-but-oh-so-right. This was too amazing to deny herself.
Chapter Six
Logan was enjoying this far more than he probably should be. With his mouth crushed to Jodie’s and her rubbing against his torso, he didn’t have the brain power to put the why into words. Maybe it was the forbidden aspect of things—he grew up with this woman, for hell’s sake. Or that she was as into it as him. Each new sound she made flooded his thoughts and rolled over his skin. Or maybe—
Passion, Vows & Babies: Reluctant (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Your Ad Here Book 5) Page 2