I filled a plastic cup from the sink in the attached bathroom and set the flower in it to bob along the surface. I returned and placed the cup beside the bed where Kinleigh was sleeping in a starfish position, her nightshirt riding up, her tiny panties twisted over her sexy hips and thighs. On the lacy material, a small spot of wetness taunted me, and I had to fist my hands to not yank down her underwear and wake her up with my mouth.
Blowing out a breath, I pushed a hand through my hair. I should just go. Let her sleep it off and see how she felt tomorrow.
She cracks open a door and you’re just going to let her slam it shut again?
The door she’d cracked was having a child. It wasn’t as if she’d asked me out for ice cream. This would be a lifetime commitment.
And to get there would involve lots and lots of fun practice…
My cock jerked against my zipper. I couldn’t help it. Much as I tried to be a gentleman, I still thought with my other head at least part of the time. Seeing Kinleigh sprawled out the next thing to naked with that stupid phrase about having Irish inside her stretched across her tits was not helping me think straight.
I frowned. Was that my sister’s nightshirt? Had freaking Lucky Charms bought her that?
Pervert.
Yeah, and he got the girl. While you’re standing around thinking about right and wrong and being prudent, LC just impregnated Ivy and worried about details later.
Not that I would ever take life advice—mental or otherwise—from my brother-in-law. The guy still called me Auggie and smirked every time as if it was the funniest joke ever.
But my sister loved him. He treated her well. He adored her and their baby. Really, I had nothing to complain about there.
That didn’t mean I wouldn’t fuck with him every chance I got. It was practically a rite of passage.
I stared down at Kinleigh’s long, wavy hair spread across the white and pink bedspread. Uncontained fire, that was her.
I wanted to be in her world. Wanted her to be even more a part of mine.
Already, I knew we were good together. I just had to convince her.
Besides, if she truly deep down wanted a baby, then what? She’d go hook up with some other dude and let it happen then? If it was meant to, of course. There were no guarantees.
I could guarantee there was no way in hell I was going to let some other dude slip into the role of her child’s father. No way.
And if she woke up tomorrow and decided she really didn’t want a kid yet, well, that was fine too. I’d try to forget she’d mentioned it.
Even more, I’d try to forget how much the idea had scared me—and excited me too.
But that wasn’t for tonight. I turned toward the door. She needed her rest.
“August, don’t go.”
I glanced back to find her sliding her arm across the bed, fingers outstretched.
“Come to bed with me.”
Fuck, how was I supposed to say no to that?
“You’re drunk.” My voice sounded like broken glass, and depending how she responded, she would leave me bleeding.
Not the first time either.
“Some. But I know what I want. Just too scared to say sometimes.” A faint smile tipped up her lips and she wiggled her fingers. “An orgasm or two would knock me right out.” Her eyes closed for a moment before opening again. “It’s hard to stop thinking so much.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and fingercombed her damp, gorgeous hair all the way to the ends. On the next trip, I let my fingers sink in deeper to massage her scalp, just so she’d
keep on making those little purring sounds in her throat.
She smelled like a strawberry sundae. Sinful as fuck.