Page 30 of Tempting-
A night on the couch didn't do shit to help with my head space.
I'm exhausted. It lowers my inhibitions. Gets me saying all the shit I want to say to her.
Looking at her the way I want to.
"You have everything?" she asks.
I nod and try to keep my eyes off her tits.
Fuck, the way her sun dress is falling down her chest—
I know she doesn't wear this shit to torture me. I know Emma curated half of Kaylee's wardrobe.
But I don't see my sister's handiwork when I look at her. I don't see the kid I'm supposed to protect.
I see long legs, lush tits, soft lips, sweet green eyes—
I want to rip off her cotton panties.
I want to pin her to the table and lick her until she's groaning my name.
She's not going to stay a virgin forever.
Someone is going to be her first.
It should be someone she trusts.
Someone who will make sure she comes.
Someone who will teach her every fucking thing she needs to know.
"You... you ready, Brendon?" She looks up at me with those soft green eyes.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This isn't about my cock.
Or my hands or lips or my tongue.
Kaylee is here because her parents bailed on her. Because her grandma is sick. Because she needs someone to protect her.
That's what I signed up for.
There's no way I'm taking advantage of that trust.
Yeah, this isn't how I imagined my life when I was her age. That guy would kill somebody if he knew he was going to grow up to get his furniture at Ikea.
And, fuck, if he had any idea how much pop-rock he'd listen to on the way—
I'm not proud of what a judgmental shit I used to be. But I did stand for something. Well, against something. Against all the bullshit my parents jammed down my throat.
Now that I am a parent—legally, at least—I get it.
It's hard taking care of someone. Wanting what's best for them. Trying to figure out where to draw the line.
That doesn't excuse my mom's constant reminders that I'd never be good enough.
But it does explain them.
