Finn
Brody: Did the girl with the flat ass quit yet?
The sky is pitch-black by the time I park in my driveway and read my brother’s text. Brody Richards is an idiot. It’s common knowledge at this point. I just didn’t realize he was a blind idiot. The house sitter is a lot of things—stubborn, cunning, feisty—but she’s not flat. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
My fingers type a reply too fast for me to catch up.
Finn: Nope. Still here.
My brother’s reply pops up on my phone immediately.
Brody: I know something that would send her running home to her lying sack of a brother if you’re interested…
Two weeks ago, I would’ve jumped at the opportunity to find out whatever fucked-up secret my brother is keeping. Anything to get this girl out the door, but now…
I’m not even sure it’s worth the effort.
I’m starting to get used to having her around, and no one is more shocked than me, but my dad might’ve been onto something when he hired her.
Her presence allows me to do whatever I want without having to worry about Lexie. I couldn’t have stayed at Theo’s until midnight tonight if it weren’t for her.
The asshole needed me—well, he needed someone—even though he’ll never admit it. Shit is getting pretty bad over at the Coxes’. I know Theo only invited me to hang because he was hoping his parents would get off his case with me there.
And he was right.
They bit their tongue for most of the evening, and Theo did a marvelous job at pretending like his relationship with his folks wasn’t a dumpster fire.
Leaving my brother’s message unanswered, I shove my phone in my back pocket and drag myself out of the car. Lexie greets me at the front door, and I’m a tad surprised to see her there. It’s past midnight, and she always sleeps in Gem’s bed. She’s usually sound asleep upstairs by now.
Unless… Gem kicked her out?
I nearly drop my keys when I hear it.
The faint, distant sound of…
Buzzing?
Am I hallucinating?
I notice my breathing quickening as I stalk up the stairs, tracking the noise to the second floor. I’m at the house sitter’s door a second later, the buzzing clearer than ever.
Her bedroom door is open a crack, and under the moonlight, I see her lying in bed, wearing a lace bra, her lower body concealed under the covers, and her pouty mouth hanging open.
Holy hell.
She’s using it.
She’s using the sex toy I gave her.
I packed a vibrator in a box today and left it on her bed with a note saying to rub one out and fix her mood swings. I was just trying to mess with her—she’s been irritable all week—but I didn’t think she’d actually touch it.
Well, touch herself.
Fuck, I should leave.
But I’m hard.
I’m so fucking hard my cock strains against my pants, yearning for freedom. Her breathing is heavy, her chest hauling up and down as she rotates the toy underneath the blanket and chokes on a moan I’m afraid might kill me.