Love In Secrets (Love Distilled #3) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,28
to get familiar with, stat.
So, sure. He’d done what any other guy would do when faced with a raging erection, backed-up pipes, and the perfect naked visual of a woman who seemed to occupy his thoughts.
He’d jerked off in the shower while thinking about dropping to his knees and parting the towel so he could taste her. Then he’d imagined her letting go of the towel before dropping to her knees in front of him. Perhaps sucking him off, deep like he liked, those pale blue eyes of hers looking up at him, telling him she loved everything he was giving her.
And then he’d come all over her tits.
When he came harder than he’d done in months, he let the daydream continue. He’d offer her his hand and she’d take it, letting him lead her into the shower where he could clean her off and kiss her some more.
When he realized he was enjoying the thought of kissing her and running his hands over her soapy body more than actually getting sucked off by her, he’d reached for the shower and turned it off before he gave himself a mental slap for being such a pussy.
But as he’d dried himself off, he’d heard sounds from the bedroom. Whispered groans of pleasure. He’d pressed his ear to the wall, then quietly wrapped the towel around his hips before stepping out into the hallway. Sure, it was a violation of her privacy. The polite thing would have been to go to his bedroom, turn some music on and ignore the whole thing. Instead, he’d thanked God he’d never gotten around to replacing the old doors that didn’t quite fit properly into their frames. The gaps allowed the sound to travel a little bit further, and, yep.
“Oh, God,” she’d cried.
Oh, fucking, God. He was doomed.
Because the fact she hadn’t called his name out frustrated him. The fact she’d orgasmed in his spare room instead of in his bed, with him, pissed him off. And the sound of her cry had him hard all over again with no time to do anything about it.
He’d hurried to his room and repeated his current mantra as he’d gotten dressed.
She’s just a friend, who’s going back to New York tomorrow.
She’s just a friend, who’s going back to New York tomorrow.
He mentally repeated it intermittently over breakfast. And in the truck.
But one look at her side profile, and he no longer cared about either of those limitations.
Now she knew he knew. Now she knew he wanted to do something more about it. Dancing around each other all day would either be highly entertaining or have him Googling whether it was medically damaging to maintain an erection for ten hours.
“Jake,” Emerson cried, flinging herself at him for a hug. “Surprise.”
He wrapped his arms around his sister for a moment and shook thoughts of Cassie from his mind. “What are you doing back? I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow. How was Cabo?”
“Cabo was five days of perfection. Sun, sea, and the best guacamole I’ve ever tasted.”
“Good guac is priceless.” He thought of the burrito Cassie had made for breakfast . . . after she’d—shit, he had to stop thinking about that. “Why did you leave early? You were supposed to be gone a week.”
“Cassie. Olivia called me to let me know she was having a rough time, filled me in on everything that has happened, and told me she might be heading back tomorrow. Connor knew I was worried and offered to find us a flight out of there yesterday. We got back last night so I could spend time with her today.”
Playfully, he tugged his sister into his side, part hug, part headlock. “You’re a good friend.”
“Stop, you’re messing up my hair. Where is she today? The hospital?”
“No. You’re in luck. She’s here, over at the events hall. Did Liv tell you Chris asked her to stay and help him turn things around?”
Emerson nodded. “We know how it feels, right? To be torn about the right thing to do for an ailing family business.”
Jake looked at his sister. The confident CEO she was now was miles away from the nervous eldest Dyer sibling who’d been reluctant to wear that mantle fourteen months earlier. “It’s been good for us though, right?”
His sister eyed him in return. “Has it, Jake? I was lying on a sun lounger drinking a mid-morning Prosecco, and it occurred to me it’s been better for me than it has for you, by far.”