Page 75 of Unwrapping Deviance

Her skin glows a faint, delicious pink. I hadn’t seen enough of her earlier on the bed, but I’d seen enough that seeing her now in that tiny black top held over her perky tits by the sheer grace of two thin straps tied behind her neck and a metal o-ring, I ache to pull them free again. I ache to shove her jean shorts down, bend her over my bike and fill one of her holes while Daniel takes her mouth on the other side.

Her hair is down, a glistening wave of rich caramel that had looked so good fisted around Daniel’s fist. The strands bounce around her shoulders and frame her flushed face.

That warmth deepens when she turns her face and our eyes meet.

I have to bite back my smirk. I have to restrain the urge to let my eyes roll over her with intention.

This is exactly the shit I don’t need to feel when she’s never going to be mine.

“We’re going to the hardware store after breakfast,” Daniel yells across the space between us. “We should take the truck.”

Fuck no.

I am not sitting in the back while he gets to sit next to Mira the whole time with his hand in her lap.

“My bike is fine.”

I grab my helmet off the bench for emphasis and shove it down over my head. I glance up for a second to find Mira watching me, her plump bottom lip caught between her teeth with an anxious snag. I’m half tempted to tell her to get on, but I’m already so fucking over my head, so deep that I know I can’t trust myself with her.

Daniel helps her up into the truck and shuts the door, but her blue eyes continue to watch me as he rounds the back to the driver’s side.

They pull out first and I give them a minute to not get caught in the kicked-up dust from their tires before following.

I’m going to leave,I decide as the dirt path turns to paved highway.

As soon as we get to the diner, I’m going to tell Daniel the house is his, good luck and farewell. Then, I’ll get back on my bike and go home.

He and Mira can figure that mess out. He’ll have her and she’ll have him, and I have the six pack in the fridge back at my apartment. Everyone will be happy. It’s a great idea. A rational one.

A sane one.

I think of the night before watching Daniel break down Mira’s door to get to her because she’d had a nightmare. Would I do that?

Yes,the answer is immediate and without falter. I would walk through fire to get to her.

It’s not love. I don’t love her. Love at first sight is for children andDisneycharacters. I’ve had too many women in my life, too many encounters to believe anyone can make you fall for them on sight, or in twenty-four hours.

I don’t know what my feelings are, exactly, except that I would protect her. Maybe that just makes me a regular human with a modicum of decency, but I would have killed Brewer and Walton for her. I would kick down any door to protect her from her nightmares. I would do a lot of things that I shouldn’t because she’s not mine.

We arrive at the diner and get the same booth. I sit across from the pair and keep my face averted to the menu over the counter, but there is no missing the lack of distance between the two, or the arm Daniel has over the back of her bench. She’s practically nestled into his side, her small hand a pale bird on his thigh.

I’m not jealous.

Seriously.

I just don’t like being a third wheel unless I’m part of the damn tricycle.

Mabel is not pleased to see us back. On a normal day, I would meet her snark with my own, but I’m done with everything and I only stare at her until she shuts her stupid mouth and fucks off.

“You’re not hungry?” Mira asks once we’re alone again.

I flick my gaze from Mabel’s retreating back to the tiny addiction watching me like she’s braced for me —me!—to break her heart. “I didn’t work up an appetite this morning, I guess.”

It’s a low, shitty thing to say. I know it even before Mira flinches and drops her gaze.

I’m ready to apologize when I catch Daniel’s hard, level stare. I know my brother well enough to know he’s pissed. Rightfully so. I would be too if I let him watch the woman I love only for him to hurt her.

“I’m going to head out after this,” I tell them, deciding to just get that over with. “You already know what you want to do with the place. I’ll sign whatever papers you want, just send them to my email.” I drum my fingers anxiously on the tabletop and search for the damn waitress with my coffee so I can at least hold something. “I’ll pay half of whatever owing bills there are if you need—”

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