Page 36 of Playboy

She rolls her eyes, the action one I’ve seen at least a thousand times since I’ve known her. “You know too much.”

As if it’s routine, I hover over her and press a kiss to her mouth. No second-guessing, no hesitation. Her lips are soft against mine, and fuck, I forgot how good she tasted. She moans as I lick at her lips, cradling her head, needing more. With a knee on one side of her, I adjust my weight, ready to straddle her and make this morning even more perfect.

Before I get any farther, she pushes back, face flushed and lit up with sleepy joy. “Breakfast, Baby Hall.”

I dart in and bite her lip, then soothe it with another kiss. “Fine. But take the test. And do the one that estimates how far along you are.”

She laughs. “We only slept together that one time. I can do the math.”

“Do you have a smart-ass comeback for everything?” I call as I open her bedroom door. Her raspy, happy laugh follows me out, lighting me up from the inside as I head for the front door.

I’ve just disengaged the dead bolt when a male voice behind me has my heart thundering. “Hey, Han. Now that your boy toy is gone, are you hungry?”

I spin, chest tight, and find Noah walking toward Hannah’s bedroom in nothing but a towel.

“The fuck?”

Noah freezes, his back straightening, and tilts his head. “Hall?”

“Harrison.”

With a laugh, he rubs a hand down his face. “I’m going to go put on clothes. When I get back, I’m guessing you’ll be gone.” He nods and spins on his heel. “See you on the plane.” With that, he’s gone, disappearing into the second bedroom.

Hands clenched into fists, I stomp right back into Hannah’s room.

“Please tell me you don’t live with fucking Noah Harrison,” I grit out as I throw the door open with a little too much force.

Her room is empty and the bathroom door is closed.

“Hannah.” I say her name again, because apparently, I’ve lost all control.

She steps out of the darkened room in nothing but a purple silk robe and frowns. “That was quick.”

“Are you dating Noah Harrison?” I grit out.

Her face pinches. “Ew, no.”

My chest squeezes tighter. Shit. Is this what a heart attack feels like? “What do you mean ‘ew, no’?”

“I mean, ew, no. He’s like my brother.”

I clutch at the front of my shirt, my pulse haywire. “You fucked your brother?”

She stomps across the room and plants her hands on her hips. “No. He’s my stepbrother. We’re not blood related. And I never fucked him.”

My stomach churns. “Oh my god, that’s so much worse.”

“How is that worse?” She tilts forward, eyes narrowed in a look that should have me cupping my balls and backing away.

Instead, I glare right back. “Now I’m a brother fucker.”

Her brows knit together, her arms falling to her sides. “You fucked my brother?”

“No.” I pull at my hair. “I fucked your brother’s sister.”

“You fucked—” She tilts her head, lips pursed. “Wait, Noah doesn’t have a sister.”

“No.” I cough out a strangled sound. “I fucked you. I’m a brother fucker.”

---