Page 51 of Spur of the Moment
Reed held his beer up in the air, a finger pointed at me. “No. I live on theirproperty.That is entirely different.”
Bailey nodded. “Yeah, same here. Our houses aren’t even attached to theirs.”
Callan rolled his eyes and turned away from the conversation, grabbing tongs off the counter to help my mom toss the salad she’d thrown together in a large bowl.
“Which means,” Lennon announced, “that you’re the only one living with your parents.”
“I moved away for five years, so this doesn’t count,” I defended myself.
“Pretty sure it does,” Beck said.
“I had nowhere else to live for the time being.”
“Give her a break, guys. Lettie’s just used to the special treatment, is all,” Bailey joked. Yet it didn’t hit me as a joke. It hit me like he knew I was babied. They all did.
“I forgot something in my room.” I excused myself, walking back down the hall. Once inside, I closed the door behind me and stood in the middle of the room, counting my breaths.
Once my brothers slowly moved out of the house one by one, they’d stopped hounding me as much, but with Callan and Reed always around the ranch, they had the ability to keep an eye on me. I appreciated it at times, I really did. But other times, it was too much.
Brandy and I couldn’t run off and do our own thing without one of them trying to join and make sure I was okay. Brandy was well aware of my health and the signs to look out for, but Reed didn’t trust her to pay close enough attention. That’s what Iloved about being alone with Brandy: she could care and show her concern, but she didn’t try to control the things that I did.
My parents took the protectiveness down a notch after I made it clear when I was a teenager that I could handle myself. My brothers took that as their cue to step up their game. Bailey knew this. He also knew that I hated it.
A light knock sounded on my bedroom door before it opened behind me, but I didn’t bother turning around. “Please get out.”
Two steps, then the click of the door, and a sigh.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Huckleberry.”
I whirled around, my hands fisted at my sides. “Stop calling me that.”
He took one step toward me, gauging my reaction. I stayed put, unwilling to let him see how he affected me. Another step, and we were only a foot apart. “And if I don’t?”
Frustration built in my chest, aching to get out. But I wouldn’t give Bailey the satisfaction of taking it out on him. He wanted me to come undone, and I wouldn’t give that to him.
He closed the distance and I arched my neck to look up at him. He brought his hand up, his fingertips grazing my cheek before he pushed my hair behind my ear. God, I hated how that sent shivers down my spine.
“Hmm, Lettie? What are you going to do?” His green eyes searched my face for any reaction. He was so close I could see the small ring of hazel around his pupil. Were his eyes always this damn beautiful?
He wasn’t wearing his cowboy hat tonight. Instead, his hair was messy, the top just a little shorter than the sides. My hands in his hair when his face was buried between my legs flashed through my mind and I pushed it away. Now was not the time to think of that moment in the hotel. I could think of that later tonight when I was alone. Right now, I needed to imagine him standing in front of an ax throwing target, if only to keep my hands off of him.
“I see that war raging inside your head,” he said, his voice husky. “Which side is winning, Lettie? Your head,” he brought his finger to my temple, tapping it twice, “or your body?” His other hand settled on the curve of my waist before sliding around to my back. He tugged me closer to him, to the point our chests touched.
My breath hitched, but I stayed silent. It was fucking hard not to give in when his hard chest was pressed against my breasts. I felt my nipples pebble under my bra, my body betraying me.
His tongue ran over his bottom lip. “Get on your knees.”
Was he fucking crazy?
No, I was fucking crazy, because next thing I knew, my knees hit the sheep skin rug on my hardwood floor.
“Bad girls who leave the room mid-conversation deserve to get punished, don’t you think?”
He traced my jaw until his finger stopped under my chin. He angled my head up toward him, and the second our eyes met, I saw his burn with need. I nodded in response to his questionand reveled in the fact that he loved how I looked kneeling before him, completely at his mercy.
After a minute passed, I realized he was waiting for me to make the next move. I bit down on my bottom lip, my body screaming at me to take, but my mind yelling at me to stop. I was quickly losing control when it came to Bailey, and I couldn’t bring myself to hit the brakes.
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