Page 42 of Wrecked Rose

I shift uncomfortably on the bed, willing my raging hard-on to simmer down. My breath comes fast as I stare at her, and she stares right back at me.

Slowly, her lips curve into a smile, and she playfully asks, “What were you watching, Griff?”

“Nothing,” I huff, raking my hand through my hair.

“You lie! Lemme see. I bet it was porn. The ones with the bad music like that one crack me up.” Before I realize what she’s doing, she darts across the space between us, climbs onto the bed, and has her hands on the laptop.

“Noooo.” I half-laugh, half-growl at her. I still have one hand on it, determined not to let go. “You definitely won’t be interested in this.”

Lyla is a cagey one, though. She gives me a saucy smile, then pounces, her free hand shooting out and poking me in the ribs. And because she’s lunging way too close to my still-softening dick, I let go of the laptop in order to hold her back.Ah, fuck.

She grins smugly, sitting down at my side against the pillows, her prize hugged against her chest. She gets a funny expression on her face as pivots her head to the side so she can study me. “Griff, do you really not want me to look?”

I take in several measured breaths as we stare at each other.

Finally, I blow out a breath. Lyla’s been watching me for quite a while. I’m pretty sure she’s not clueless, she just hasn’t directly brought it up to me.

“I have a feeling I already know what this is.”

“Go ahead. Look.” I gesture that she can proceed.

Biting her lip, she flips it open, and my eyes slam shut. I don’t want to see the expression on her face when she has confirmation of what I have a feeling she’s already thinking.

She’s quiet for several seconds. On an exhale, she breathes out, “Griff …”

Heat infuses my cheeks. My eyes flicker open and meet her gaze. “Say it.” My words sound like gravel in my throat scraped over glass.

She blinks a few times and purses her lips. She shakes her head and rests it on my shoulder.

“Hey, what are you guys—” Beau stops in the doorway eyeing us, huddled on the bed together.

Lyla’s fast. She clicks the trackpad once and slams the computer shut. “Griff, next time warn me when you’re going to show me another of those nasty Dr. Pimple Popper videos. That was barf-inducing.” She wrinkles her nose, climbs off my bed, and strides swiftly out the door.

My brother tilts his head to the side. “Tell me what I walked in on.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before opening them to his stormy expression.

He exhales what sounds like a painful breath. “Are you interes—?”

Frustrated, I shout, “No!” Then more quietly, “Hell no. I’d never do that to you. Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Then what was that?”

“Not what you think, obviously.”

He stalks toward me, hands on his hips. “Griff. Answer me truthfully. What the fuck is going on?”

I eye him as I drag a hand over my cheek. I grit out, “Porn. I was watching porn, and she walked in on me.”

Beau stares, mild shock sliding over his features. “She caught you jerking it?”

“Well, she didn’t actually see anything because I covered up right as she burst in here like the hurricane she is. But yes. That’s what I was doing when she came in.” I have no idea what he’s going to say to that.

Beau looks serious for a moment, but then his face morphs into an amused grin. He snickers and points at the laptop. “Lemme see.”

“No. What the fuck is with the two of you wanting to see my porn?”

“Bro, if you can ask what it is I do to make my woman moan, I can ask to see your favorite porn site.”

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