by J. Daniels
Tori smiled proudly, lifting her shoulders with a little dance. Then she looked to Quinn, keeping the smile, and said, “Hey, I’m Tori. Your brother dragged me here, so I figured I’d offer my assistance instead of letting him handle it, since he can’t fight and all.”
“Can fight, just shouldn’t,” I corrected her. I jerked my chin. “Hop off.”
Quinn moved her hands up Tori’s back and licked her lips. “Wicked plan,” my sister told her. “I was totally into that.”
“I think it got the point across,” Tori replied. “I really like your hair, by the way.” She ran her fingers through it again. “The color looks great on you.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. It really makes your eyes pop.”
“I was thinking about going purple…”
“Have you tried bleaching the roots and just painting the color on the ends? I think that would look amazing with purple.”
Jesus.
“Legs,” I barked.
Both of their heads whipped around and faced my direction.
“You feelin’ like gettin’ up so we can get the fuck outta here?” I asked, thinking only about the food back at her place I was wanting to eat and not about how comfortable my sister’s hands looked gripping on to Tori’s body.
“She’s fine,” Quinn offered, keeping her hands locked around Legs. “Really. She doesn’t have to move.”
I shot a glare at Quinn, communicating how I felt about that suggestion, then shifted that glare to Tori.
“I was getting up. Relax. We were just talking,” she huffed, moving off Quinn’s lap and coming to stand beside me. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she murmured.
I ignored her mouth, for now, and watched Quinn come to her feet.
She was seven years younger than me, putting her at twenty-one, tall and thin, with the muscles of a track runner filling out her legs and giving her some meat, kept her hair short and her eyes green thanks to contacts, and ever since she was a kid, refused to wear anything besides all black.
Right now, she was wearing tight black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a black tank. Solid. No design.
Quinn kept the color to her hair.
“Hey, big brother,” she said with a smile, while fixing the pieces of hair around her face and making them spike out again. Dimples caved in her cheeks. “Thanks for coming to get me. I totally owe you one.”
“Let’s go,” I ordered, skipping pleasantries.
I’d tell her how good it was to see her when we weren’t in a fucking bar.
Quinn pulled her lips between her teeth after hearing me, blinked through wide eyes, and then quickly moved forward. She knew I wasn’t playing around.
“What the fuck are you doin’ here by yourself? Aren’t you stayin’ with Chante?” I asked when we made it outside. She always crashed with Chante, her ex, when she came to town.
“She’s working,” Quinn replied from next to me. “And I wanted to get a drink.”
“You couldn’t wait ’til she got off?”
“Jesus, Jamie. Ease up a little,” Tori said from behind me. “She just wanted to go out and get a drink.”
I stopped sharp on the pavement, causing Tori to bump into my back.
“What—”
“Not that this matters, ’cause either way I’d have a problem with it, but she ain’t here to get a drink. She’s here lookin’ to get laid,” I argued after twisting around.
Tori shifted her eyes between Quinn and myself.
“Jamie,” she whispered, sounding appalled as she looked up at me. “Why would you say that?”
“’Cause it’s true.”
“It’s rude is what it is.”
“Oh, it’s okay. He’s right,” Quinn informed her. “I was drinking but I was also hoping to pick someone up. I’m on vacation. Gotta live a little.”
“Oh.” Tori blinked, then she shifted her eyes between the two of us again, settling on me. “Well, it was still a rude thing to say,” she mumbled under her breath.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?”
Her eyes hardened. “That’s pretty rude, too. I’m beginning to see a pattern.”
Jesus. Always with the attitude. I didn’t need this shit right now.
“Babe, appreciate what you did in there, straight up, but you need to stay outta this,” I told her. “She’s my sister. If I gotta problem with somethin’ she does, I’m expressin’ that problem. I’m not gonna sugarcoat shit to spare feelings. That’s not how I operate.”
“What’s wrong with her going out to meet someone?”
“Nothin’, as long as she’s got eyes on her in case shit goes south, which is the whole fuckin’ reason why we’re here. You forgettin’ that?”
Her lips pressed together. I watched her agitation slip away.
Tori had forgotten why I’d dragged her out here in the first place, but she was appearing to remember now and maybe even understanding my reaction.
Seeing that and not feeling the need to argue further, I turned to Quinn.
“You shouldn’t be coming to places like this by yourself lookin’ for ass. Bring a wingman next time,” I ordered.
Quinn chuckled. “I don’t have a wingman.” She leaned back to peer around me and flashed a smile. “Can I have yours?”
My eyes narrowed. Quinn saw it.
“Or not,” she quickly added on a shrug, straightening up.
“I’m not his,” Tori threw out, not wasting time squashing that remark.
I sliced my eyes to hers.
Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not,” she stated, as if it was crazy for anyone to assume any different.
“I’m thinking he’s in disagreement with you on that,” Quinn offered, laughing a little. “Wait. What does he call you again?”
“Legs.”
“Huh.” She paused. “Wait a minute. Legs.” Quinn glanced at me and then looked back at Tori, raising her finger to point. “Aren’t you the girl who ran him over?”
Tori’s face burned hot and contorted with rage.
Shit.
Forgot I told Quinn about that when she called and said she was coming to visit. Legs was now back to looking pissy.
I didn’t want that. Especially since I planned on sharing a meal with her when we got back to her place and wasn’t in the mood to fight my way inside.
Time to clear the air.
“I may have been exaggerating when I said that,” I confessed, looking at Quinn and watching her shake her head disapprovingly while fighting a smile. I met Tori’s eyes again. “Though contact was made. You did hit me.”
“Barely,” she snapped, bringing her hands to her hips. “And I apologized immediately for it. God, what else do you want?”
A smile pulled across my lips.
Tori’s eyes lowered to my mouth, then quickly cut away. “Forget I asked,” she mumbled.
I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.
Tugging the car keys out of my pocket, I directed my sister toward the Volvo and hung back to walk with Legs.
“Didn’t say shit to anyone else about it,” I informed her, reading her mind and figuring she’d think that.
Tori gave me a sideways glance. “Fine,” she replied. Her voice was unbothered, but I knew better.
Layers of bullshit. This was just another layer.
We reached the car and piled in.
Quinn talked up Tori the entire ride to Chante’s house, asking her questions and handing over information Tori didn’t ask for, just giving it because Quinn liked her and thought she was cool for putting on that performance back at Hammerjacks. She was talking fast and easy, oversharing a little, which Tori didn’t seem to mind. Legs paid attention, glancing in the back frequently, and commented when Quinn would take a second to breathe.
She even agreed to come out to celebrate Quinn’s birthday when it was insisted by my sister she show up. That surprised me considering the venue. Didn’t think Legs was into that shit.
“Ni
ne o’clock! Wednesday. Don’t forget, okay? And wear something hot, like those pants you got on!” Quinn hollered out as she was climbing from the backseat.
The door shut behind her.
I watched Tori tilt her head down. “Really? They’re just leggings,” she argued to herself.
“Babe, ain’t nothin’ on you ever gonna be just anything. When you gonna learn that?”
She blinked, then her eyes slowly lifted to the dash.
“Later, Jamie!”
I looked through the windshield and brought my hand off the wheel, letting Quinn see it after she called out.
She spun around and ran up the driveway, climbing the porch. When she got inside the house, she stuck her hand out the door and waved once more.
“She’s sweet,” Tori stated as I was backing us out of the driveway. “Is her birthday party really going to be at a strip club, though? Was she serious?”
Laughing, I started down the road. That was the only response I gave her.
When we got back to her place, Tori didn’t say shit to me about not coming inside or getting gone and not wanting me there. She didn’t even seem to mind when I took it upon myself to get us set up with a movie to watch while we ate, choosing a free one On Demand after plopping down on the couch and grabbing the container of chicken and broccoli, minus the broccoli.
Tori didn’t say a damn thing to me about what I was doing.
It was weird. A good weird, but still…weird.
She sat on her end of the couch, knees bent and bare feet propped up on the coffee table after kicking her flip-flops off, shrimp fried rice and mango chicken containers in her lap, still warm, so we didn’t bother reheating them, and watched Mad Max with me while alternating bites of food between the two meals and sipping on the Cherry Coke I gave her.
She didn’t talk. She ate.
I was liking this side of her, the non-bitching-at-me side and the one who seemed to not only tolerate my presence, but possibly enjoy it, so I didn’t talk either and chowed down.
And I was absolutely enjoying it. Every fucking second.
When Legs was finished eating, she put the half-empty containers next to the other ones on the coffee table, grabbed the tattered green quilt off the back of the couch, wrapped it around her shoulders, tucked her knees up against her chest, and continued watching the movie.
She didn’t dismiss me. She didn’t get up and sprint upstairs again since I was hanging around, finished eating myself.
Tori sat there, not saying a word, and gave me more of her time.
I thought that was weird, too, really fucking weird, but I wasn’t about to shed light on this side of her she was showing me, figuring if I did that, she’d pile on more layers for me to peel back and become more aware, putting up a stronger guard in response.
I couldn’t have that. I was liking this version of her too much.
I liked the other version, too. The mouthy, giving as good as she gets version, but I wanted it without the bullshit.
And I was gonna get it.
A bet was a bet. And last I checked, we were still playing.
When the movie was over, I made it look like I was leaving, heading out with the leftovers she didn’t want while she used the bathroom down the hall.
I stood in the entryway and told her I’d see her tomorrow.
She called out, “Please don’t,” from behind the bathroom door.
I smiled.
Then I pulled my dick out and waited.
Chapter Seven
TORI
“I’m out, babe. See ya tomorrow,” Jamie hollered from somewhere inside my house.
He was leaving. Good.
“Please don’t!” I hollered back, head turning toward the bathroom door I was behind as I washed my hands in the sink.
I really needed him to leave. And I really needed to go a day without seeing him.
Things were starting to feel a little too familiar.
And when things started feeling familiar, stupid people started letting things happen, like sharing meals and watching movies together after going on a family rescue mission like some cozy duo.
I had no business meeting his family, ever, because Jamie and I weren’t a duo or cozy in any way.
But I had gone with him. And I didn’t just meet his sister. I liked her. She was sweet, easygoing, and talked my ear off like we’d been best friends for years.
Not many girls were that friendly off that bat.
Then Jamie and I came back here, shared a meal, and watched a movie together while sitting on the same piece of furniture. Looking like a duo. And looking cozy, considering I hadn’t smashed myself up against the armrest again to put as much distance between Jamie and myself as possible.
I sat on one cushion. Comfortably.
He sat on one-and-a-half cushions, stretching his body and taking up more room than I was doing, even without stretching out his body. Jamie was absurdly fit but he was still a big guy. Tall. Broad shoulders. He took up space.
Leaving us with just a half a cushion between us.
Not enough. Not nearly enough.
But I had let it happen, meaning I was acting like a stupid person. Thought like one the other day at the tiki bar when I was putting meaning into what he was saying and now I was taking it a step further.
This was not good. I needed him to leave.
And I seriously needed to win this bet already so I could stop putting myself around him and showing him my goods.
After turning off the water and drying my hands on the towel, I flipped the light off, opened the bathroom door, and stepped back out into my living room with a plan in mind.
Lock up. Head upstairs. Get ready for bed. Maybe redo my toenail polish if I didn’t start yawning once I was up there, allowing for sufficient drying time. Check my phone for any missed messages since I’d left it here to ride with Jamie to rescue his sister. Then crash.
It was a good plan, and one I was looking forward to.
But that plan went right out the window when I saw Jamie was still here and standing in my entryway. I froze. Then my gaze lowered.
And kept lowering…Holy…shit.
My hand flew up to my mouth. My eyes widened, then widened further when I saw a shiny metal barbell.
I gasped against my fingertips.
Jamie chuckled like the devil himself, but I didn’t react. I couldn’t focus on clever comebacks or even the little concentration needed to lift my head and deliver a scowl.
I was startled, rightfully so; I wasn’t expecting him to still be here, but my shock and paralyzing fascination weren’t deriving from Jamie’s mere presence in my house when I’d trusted him to be gone.
Shorts unbuttoned and opened at the zipper, Jamie had his hand wrapped around the base of his dick.
This was what had me startled.
This was what had me paralyzed with fascination.
And this was what I had been dreading since the day Jamie McCade stepped foot inside Whitecaps.
He wasn’t hard, not fully anyway, but God, he didn’t need to be. Honestly, I was grateful he wasn’t.
Two of my greatest fears were being realized without the influence of a full erection.
The first fear being that Jamie had the goods to back up his arrogance, which he clearly did, bastard, and the second being I’d somehow, even with all the hard work and dedication I was putting into avoiding seeing this evidence for myself, come to learn this to be true.
Well, I’d learned all right. And there was no unlearning this.
Stomach clenching and skin tingling, I stared at his beauty. At all of it. Transfixed. Awestruck. You name it. I probably looked mad.
He was long. He was thick. Perfectly formed. Manscaped nicely but not overly done. Adorned in jewelry that looked both intimidating and oddly fascinating.
So fascinating I wanted to get a closer look, but I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
I could, however, continue to stare from my sa
fe distance away. I could also tilt my head in further captivation when tempted to do so, this happening when Jamie slid his thumb over the one barbell at the top of his piercing.
God…
I wondered how that felt when he—
“Jesus, babe. Knew you were hungry for it, but didn’t realize you were this fuckin’ starved. Shit. Look at you,” Jamie said, interrupting my train of thought and finally speaking after God knows how many minutes had passed since I’d first stepped out of the bathroom. His voice dripped amusement and victorious payback.
Awareness flooded me.
Payback…
The tiki bar. The flashing.
That stupid bet.
I lowered my hand and met his eyes. My cheeks were burning. His were dimpled and lifted with his knockout smile. Seriously wish his face didn’t look like that.
“Know what you’re thinking,” Jamie stated.
I swallowed, then I shook my head. “You don’t.”
“Wonderin’ how it’ll feel when it’s movin’ inside you,” he continued, not missing a beat.
My toes curled against the hardwood floor. Crap. He did know. “No,” I vowed.
My voice was firm. Resolute. But my body was my tell-all, and Jamie wasn’t missing the signs I was showing. I had hungry eyes apparently.
Ain’t that just terrific.
Jamie’s smile relaxed into a smirk after hearing my lie. Then, to my surprise and possible disappointment, though I’d never admit to that either, he tucked his award-winning dick back into his shorts, drew up the zipper, and shared as he was fastening the button closure, “Know that beg is sittin’ right on the tip of your tongue, Legs, and straight up, I want that, can’t fuckin’ wait to hear it, but I think I wanna make you ache a little first, so save it for me. Keep that lie goin’, babe.”
I blinked, bringing my hands to my hips. “Excuse me?”
I was in no way close to begging. He was absolutely wrong about that.
The aching part? Spot on. And it was only getting worse.
Jamie put his back to me to grab the bag of leftovers off my console table, then he took the step separating him and the front door, saying as he went, “Don’t know how often you take care of the needs you got, but I’m bettin’ those urges just doubled.”