Page 88 of Just a Little White Lie

Skimming my hand up his back, I’m toying with the idea of wriggling them under his shirt. I wouldn’t mind exploring the planes of Jack Akana. They’d be hard and smooth. Exploring his power with my fingertips would definitely take this thing to the next level, but before I can, he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine.

“As much as I want to keep doing this with you…” He skims his lips across my cheek, and I squeeze him against me with my leg. He groans like what he’s about to say is painful. “You are so edible.” He nibbles the sensitive spot below my ear, and I giggle, turning into him, but he pulls away. His hands keep painting up my side—slow brushstrokes that make me want to yank him back on top of me. “And I could devour you right here.” His eyes are lit with desire, and my insides thrill with the very idea of what we could get up to on my bed.

But then he kills it.

“You really need to go and clear the air with your brother. I’ll need to talk to him too, but I’m wondering if we should do this one at a time. I was going to go first, but then came in here to check on you and got completely distracted by your luscious bod.” His eyes drink me in, his lips curling like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever had the pleasure of studying.

I’m his Mona Lisa, and the emotion I capture in that one look is enough for thoseI love youwords to swirl through me again.

“I hate to break this up.” He cringes. “Please know that I seriouslyhateto break this up.”

I let out a soft giggle. “Me too, but… you’re probably right.” I tip my head back with a groan. “Living with the guy will be impossible if we don’t clear the air.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to protect you. He loves you.”

“I don’t need protecting from you.” I grunt and sit up on my elbows. “But I suppose I love him too.”

He grins at my serious lack of enthusiasm. “He has taken you in when your parents wouldn’t. He’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

Skimming my fingers up Jack’s arm, I squeeze his bicep. “You’re not a bad thing.”

“Oh, I know that. And I’ll tell him so. I think he just wasn’t expecting it, you know? I’ve been keeping my feelings locked up tight for so long, he probably thought I didn’t even like you.” Jack snickers and shakes his head. “The guy must be blind. I thought he had me figured out years ago. I used to watch you whenever you were in a room. He was oblivious to my feelings, and I guess that’s what I wanted him to be. I couldn’t lose my place in your family.”

“And you never will.” I lean forward and kiss him.

It takes every ounce of willpower to pull away and get off my bed. “I’ll go first. Use a little of my sisterly charm to soften him up for ya.”

I wink and he laughs, although looks pretty grateful too.

As much as I hate that I’m walking away from the slab of handsome lying on my bed right now, Jack’s right. How can we dive into complete ecstasy when my brother is no doubt cooking up an angry storm in the kitchen? When Jack and I do finally go all the way, I want it to be romantic, magical.

I glance over my shoulder. Jack’s still lounging on my bed, and I know for a fact that when it happens, it will be all those things and more.

It’s my turn to drink him in. I take so long, I nearly climb back on the bed, but he wags his fingers at me and points to the door.

I groan and tip my head back. “Fine, but you owe me.”

“And I will pay you back with interest. Believe me. It will be my pleasure.” He wriggles his eyebrows and then hits me with a smoldering smirk that has ripples of want spreading through me all over again.

Walking out my bedroom door right now is seriously one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

LAUREN

Ihear the angry chopping before I walk into the kitchen. The poor celery is getting massacred. The pop and sizzle of meat frying in the pan adds to Luke’s chaotic, wrath-filled cooking dance. I walk over to the fry pan and give the chicken a little stir.

“Where’s Mallory?” I ask.

“She left. She doesn’t like me in this mood and told me I can call her when I’m calm.”

“Huh.” I nod, not quite sure what to say next.

How close to calm is he?

Should I bail and try again later?

I really don’t want to incite World War III in this pokey little kitchen.

My brother sighs and looks over his shoulder, raising his chin toward the fry pan. “That’s pretty much done. Can you tip the chicken into that white bowl, please?”

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