Page 88 of Charming Like Us
I think about Quinn.
When my brother first joined security, he was naïve, not realizing how much unwarranted shit is thrown at the families, and I know he’s more hard-edged now than before.
“He’s seventeen,” I tell Jack. “Our brothers are gonna grow up whether we like it or not. The good thing is he’s here with you, and you’re with him.” I hang my head with a coarse breath. “But let’s be honest, I’m probably thelastperson who should be giving brotherly advice.”
Jack slips me a smile. “No, you’re thefirstperson who should. At least for me. You’ve already been twenty-seven with a seventeen-year-old brother, and not that many people can say that.”
I grin and scrunch my brows. “Are you calling me old, Highland?”
“Would you be flattered if I did?”
“No.”
“Then no.”
We laugh.
Jack smiles more at me. “Turn around, I’ll get your back.”
“I’ll do you first.”
He shifts at my choice of words, his nose flaring. Heat blankets me, and I search his eyes for more understanding but…
I can’t read him that well.
Sadly.
Gladly? I don’t know, it’s definitely addingsomethingbetween us. Can’t say it’s all bad. But a few bricks mortar around my heart.
Don’t get hurt, Oliveira.
He angles his head back, giving me more access to the nape of his neck. I squirt cream on my fingers, dab the patchy spot, and rub small circles with my thumb.
I hear his breath in the quiet. Ragged, winded.
The noise seeps pleasure in my throbbing veins. Alone in a camp cabin, a palpable current of intimacy is strung between me and Jack.
“Is this what it was like?” he asks me. “Back when you were fourteen and had a sexual awakening at summer camp?”
I laugh, a soft breathy one that feels gentle. “Are you feeling sexually awakened, Long Beach?”
He rests a hand on his head, fingers woven in his hair. “I’m feeling something.”Me too, but I can’t say the words, he’s already telling me, “I keep replaying our conversation at your apartment that one night.”
That one night.
Can’t forget any second of his sleepy ass, the blow job from heaven, and me opening up about my family. I gush forth way too much to Jack all the damn time, but I can never find a lever or wrench to help mestop.
I finish coating his poison ivy splotches, and Jack rotates to face me. Bunkbed’s springs squeak beneath his weight. His legs are spread, and his knee knocks into my knee.
We’re bare-chested. Only one piece of fabric away from being buck-ass naked.
My eyes want to track down the ridges and valleys of his muscles. But I hang onto a slat of the bunkbed above us. Like I’m headed for a collision and need to brace myself.
Jack takes the ointment and smears the cream over my bicep. “You said half the fun of fucking is the discovery. I have questions.”
“No surprise there,” I joke.
A charismatic smile spreads across his face. “But after you said that, I realized I’d rather your body answer all the questions, not your words.”
