His gaze is heavy on me, demanding and speculative all at once. Heat prickles beneath my skin.
‘I don’t think so.’
CHAPTER THREE
I SHOULD GO. I know I should go but hell, her easy dismissal of me raises every damned hackle I have. Despite the fact she told me she’d want me to go away again, the reality of that is unpalatable. I shouldn’t be here in the first place—a voice has been screaming inside my mind from the minute she started hitting on me in the bar, but I ignored it and I came here, and now that I’ve slept with this long-lost Hart I feel like the damage is already done. But the way she’s trying to flick me away like a bug, because I’ve given her what she wanted, irks me.
It really, really irks me.
And it’s petty and childish but I don’t like that and I intend to show her just how much.
‘Oh?’ She crosses her arms over her chest. Huge mistake—it just reminds me of how freaking perfect her breasts are. ‘Do you think you have any say in that?’
I grind my teeth together. Yeah, this is bullshit. ‘I’m not done yet.’
Before she can get another smart question out, I kneel in front of her, spreading her legs with my palms, my mouth pressing to her beautiful, wet sex. I feel her tremble in response, her exhalation of surprise, and I feel her surrender too, when her fingers start to drive through my hair. Good.
I flick her with my tongue, knowing where she likes it, knowing what drives her crazy, then I suck her sensitive flesh into my mouth, running my tongue over her seam until her breath is rushed and her hands are moving faster. Then I slow down, pulling back a gear, letting my tongue taste her inner thighs, drawing invisible circles there.
‘Please,’ she moans, so I bring my mouth back like the good little sex slave she apparently thinks I am. I drive her back to the brink of explosion. I can taste it, I can feel how close she is to coming, but then I slow down again, moving my mouth upwards this time, to her flat stomach, tracing a circle around her navel so she makes a noise of frustration and pushes at my head a little, trying to guide me down. I dip my head lower to hide my smile.
So much for wanting me to go.
‘What’s the magic word?’ I murmur against her flesh, dragging my mouth sideways to her hips.
‘Please.’ She loads the word with resentm
ent. I bite her hip and she makes a sound of surprise followed by a long, soft moan. ‘Please.’ No resentment this time. Just blind need.
‘Since you asked so nicely.’ I bring my mouth back to her sex and this time, when she’s on the brink of an orgasm, I don’t move my mouth to her thigh or her stomach, I don’t slow down. I pull back completely and stand up, taking my pants from her hands.
Her eyes show complete shock. I ignore it and I have to stifle a need to laugh.
‘This way, you said?’ I gesture down the corridor.
Her expression shows fire and flame. She’s pissed. Okay, she probably has a right to be but so do I!
‘Yes.’ She recovers quickly, too proud to show me how she’s feeling.
She glares at me and I grin, mimicking her words. ‘Thanks. That was great.’
I move away before I give into temptation and finish what I started, driving her over the edge once more using just my mouth. I discard the condom and dress quickly, splashing water on my face and staring at myself for a hard second in the mirror of her bathroom.
Jesus Christ. Guilt stares back at me. I don’t even want to think about what I’ve just done.
You’re like family. You’re the only person we can trust with this, Barrett.
I sweep my eyes shut and see the three Hart brothers, men I’ve known since we were boys together, and feel like I’ve done something completely and utterly wrong.
What the hell just happened? I saw Avery Maxwell and it’s like everything stopped making sense. I acted on instinct alone and, hell, I like to hook up with women—but not like this. I date them. I flirt. I genuinely enjoy getting to know them, and after a few weeks it runs its course and I move on, or they do. But, with each and every woman, I’m open to the possibility that there might be something more there, something worth investigating.
Avery was—so utterly resistant to that. She wanted to be screwed, and as I button up my shirt I come to the realisation that if I hadn’t come back here then any other guy in the bar would have done. She was determined to get laid tonight.
The thought fills me with a strange sense of impatience. She obviously does this a lot and it might be kind of old-fashioned of me but I feel a blade of fear for her—what if I were a complete sociopath? She invited me into her home knowing nothing about me. And her home is—I cast an eye about the bathroom and mentally draw back the details I observed. It’s a townhouse in Noe Valley, beautiful and expansive. She’s clearly financially well set up. Which could make her a target for any kind of bastard looking to use her then take whatever he could.
An irrational anger fills me at the risks she’s taking. I have no business to feel that way—it’s her life and she should live it how she wants but hell, she’s also the half-sister of my friends and...and what? I’ve just come back here and had sex with her. Fantastic sex. Mind-blowingly addictive, I don’t think I could ever get enough sex with this woman sex. But that doesn’t give me any right to go all Big Brother on her.
Big Brother!