Breathless_ Steel Brothers Saga - HELEN HARDT Page 0,47
door. “Be my guest, but they were getting pretty lovey-dovey when I left, so don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.”
She walked down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Well, she’d definitely talked me out of saying anything to Talon.
Joe and Ryan had already left. Why had I stayed again? To say goodbye to Talon? That was such a crock. Talon and I weren’t even that close.
I’d stayed to catch another glimpse of Marjorie Steel.
Damn, I had it bad.
And damn, I had to get rid of it.
The Steel brothers had no idea I’d fucked their little sister. Marjorie wouldn’t mention it to her brothers. I knew that instinctively.
God knew I wouldn’t mention it. All three of them were fiercely protective of her.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
She stood at the refrigerator, eyeing its contents.
How in hell did she look like sex on a stick doing something so mundane? Without thinking, I inched toward her, letting my fingers touch the ponytail that was hanging down her back. So silky. So soft.
She turned abruptly.
I dropped my hand to my side.
Sorry. The word was lodged in my throat.
For one good reason.
I wasn’t even close to sorry.
I dropped my gaze to her chest. Her nipples were hard and visible beneath the cotton of her tank. From the cool air of the refrigerator? Or from me?
“What do you want, Bryce?” she asked.
“This.” I grabbed her to me and crushed my mouth onto hers.
Her lips remained tightly shut as if sewn together. I slid my tongue along the seam, nibbling their full pinkness. Then I trailed kisses to her ear. “Open for me,” I whispered. “Please.”
“I can—”
I took advantage of her open mouth and plunged in with my tongue. She responded, as I knew she would, her velvety tongue whipping around mine playfully. And then not so playfully.
This was serious. A serious kiss. A kiss that would lead somewhere—a place I wanted desperately to go…and just as desperately not to go.
My cock was already hard beneath my jeans. I backed her up against the refrigerator door and then ground into her, deepening the kiss.
Her fingers trailed over my shoulders, up my neck, and she cupped my cheeks. Never had a woman cupped my cheeks before, and it was incredibly sweet and hot at the same time.
Then her fingers threaded through my hair, my scalp tingling from the light massage. We kissed, and we kissed, and we kiss—
Clomp.
Clomp.
Clomp.
The unmistakable sound of cowboy boots. She pushed me away, wiping her mouth. Seconds later, Talon was in the kitchen.
There could be no mistaking our swollen lips and red cheeks. Not to mention the bulge beneath my jeans. I turned away from Talon.
If he’d noticed, he didn’t let on.
“I’m going to go pick up the boys at the bus stop,” Marjorie said.
“Thanks,” Talon said. Then, “You know what? Let me do that today. I’m so rarely home in the afternoons. It’ll be a nice surprise for them.”
“Um…okay.” Marjorie didn’t meet her brother’s gaze.
“What’s going on here?” Talon asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “In fact, I was just leaving. Good to see you.” I walked quickly out of the kitchen.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Why couldn’t I leave her alone? Or why didn’t she tell me to get lost?
This was going to be an issue. A big issue.
I left the house and checked in quickly with my mom. She and Henry were fine. Then I got into my car, the Mustang that had been my father’s. It was only a year old. My father had purchased it shortly before he died. With cash, I’d found out when I’d processed his estate. The title was in a locked file cabinet.
My father had always handled the bills, and my mother, being an old-school wife, had never questioned where money came from or went.
I hadn’t questioned him either.
How had I been so naïve as to not see him for who he truly was?
I could sell this car. Indeed I’d thought about it. But it was brand-new, gorgeous dark highland green, and loaded.
Paid for by…
Yeah, I was definitely selling it. I was surprised the Feds hadn’t confiscated it, but they couldn’t prove it had been purchased with dirty money.
Maybe it hadn’t been, but I couldn’t take the chance.
So why had I held on to it this long?
Not because I loved the car, though I did love it. I could easily sell it and buy another that I picked myself. Or, more likely, I could take the money and buy something cheaper. Or I could drive my own damned car, which I also loved.