white walls with portraits of famous chefs. I’m a grown woman. A grown woman who is more than capable of deciding who she wants to kiss. And by the way, you were kissing me back.”
“I’m not denying that.”
“You said I’m beautiful and glamorous. You’re attracted to me.”
“I’d have to be blind not to be attracted to you.”
Good. Now we were getting somewhere. I wasn’t asking him for anything more than a kiss. I smiled.
“Your brothers…” he began.
“My brothers love you, Bryce. All three of them.”
“Maybe so. But they don’t want me kissing their baby sister.”
I smiled again, in what I hoped was a seductive manner. “It might surprise you to know that I don’t ask my brothers’ permission before I decide to kiss someone.”
“In Jamaica, they didn’t like it when…”
“When what?”
“I made a comment about how attractive you were. They all looked like they were ready to set hellhounds on me.”
I sat down on my bed with a plunk. “My brothers are protective. Not a big surprise there. But you kissed me back, Bryce, so what is this really about?”
He paced around the room, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. “It’s about that. It’s about a lot of things.”
“I’m not asking for forever. Just for a kiss. A kiss we were both enjoying. Or did I read you wrong?” I tensed. What if he said I had read him wrong?
“You didn’t read me wrong.”
Thank God. I relaxed my muscles. “Then what’s the problem? And if you say pink and yellow unicorns or my brothers, I’m liable to punch you in the nose.”
He laughed. God, he was gorgeous when he laughed. He had a dimple on his left cheek. Just one. A perfect imperfection.
“The unicorns and your brothers are definitely a consideration, but there’s a bigger and more important thing.” He raked his fingers through his sandy hair. “You deserve better, Marjorie.”
“Seriously? You’re Joe’s best friend. You’re one of the best men I know. My brothers love you.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m a mess right now. I can’t give you what you deserve.”
He was a mess? So was I. I wasn’t looking for anything permanent. “All I’m asking for is a kiss.”
His eyes burned into me. “What if I can’t stop at a kiss?”
My nipples hardened, pressing against my bra. “What if you can’t? What if I can’t? We’re both adults here.”
“You’re not someone I can just fuck.”
“What if I’m okay with that?”
At the moment, I just wanted him. Wanted to feel his kisses, his lips all over my body, his teeth tugging on my ultra-hard nipples, his tongue probing my most private places.
“I’m not okay with that, and I’m not ready to give more than that to you or anyone else right now.”
My mouth dropped open. He might as well have stabbed me in my heart. He wanted me. That was clear. He wanted me as much or more than I wanted him.
But he didn’t love me. He couldn’t love me. And he wasn’t willing to just fuck his best friend’s sister.
I understood.
I didn’t love him either, though I was feeling something big—bigger than I’d ever felt. Still, this was only the beginning of whatever could be between us.
But he was saying nothing more could happen. There was no beginning. Just a fuck.
Just one fuck.
I did deserve more. I knew that objectively. But I was fighting my own demons, and I wasn’t ready for anything more than a fuck either.
All I knew was that I needed those lips around my nipples. I needed them so badly.
I lifted my T-shirt over my head.
“Marj…”
I paid no attention. I unclasped my bra quickly and tossed it over a chair. Then I trailed my fingers lightly over my hard nipples. A sigh escaped my throat. “Please. Please, Bryce.”
“Fuck. Why are you doing this to me?”
“My nipples are so hard. They need you. I need you.” I gave one a quick pinch, and a jolt arrowed straight between my legs.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Please. The word was again at my lips. But I’d begged enough already. He needed to make the next move. And if he walked away? I’d be embarrassed as all hell. But I had to believe he wouldn’t do that.
He didn’t.
He walked toward me, reached out, and lightly swept his fingers over one nipple. I drew in a quick breath.
“I won’t be able to stop,” he said gruffly.
“Who’s asking you to?” I stood and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Damn,” he said. “Damn it all to hell.”
“Nothing worth damning here.” I undid another button.