“Taylor,” he growls.
“Hey! Pal! Turn off the fucking meter and get the fuck out!” He laughs. “Unless you want a date with my hot niece here. But I’m getting a cut if you do!”
I cringe, and West snarls under his breath. His eyes narrow at Matt’s back, then they swivel back to me.
“You should probably go,” I whisper, hating each word.
He nods. “Nice to meet you, Taylor.”
“Nice to meet you too, West,” I whisper.
His jaw clenches, and he turns. He grabs his tools and tosses his shirt over a bare, muscled, tanned shoulder. He looks at me once more, and then he’s gone out the door.
“What a tool,” Matt grunts as he steps into the kitchen again. “What’s with the no shirt? He think I’m some sort of fag who’s going to tuck twenties into his ass?”
I frown. “Uncle Matt, it’s like two hundred degrees in here.”
He grunts. “Whatever.” He turns to me, and I hate the way he grins at me.
“Listen, you got plans tonight?”
“Um—”
“I got some buddies playing a poker game tonight, and I bet if you wanted to come by…” Matt grins disgustingly, his eyes sweeping over me. “Well, I bet you’d be a real hit with the fellas,” he purrs.
I want to throw up.
“Oh, I-I think I’ve got something going on.”
Matt rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Well, text me if you want to come over and have some fun with the guys.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” I mumble, mentally sticking a finger down my throat.
“And don’t forget to lock the place, yeah?”
Matt scowls at me before he steps back outside and slams the door shut. I let out the stream of air I’ve been holding inside through pursed lips. I sink against the counter—the very counter where West just made my entire body and soul ache and whimper for more.
I bite my lip, shivering as my core tightens. I squeeze my thighs together, and I gasp a little at the throb of heat between them.
West Farrow just blew into my life hotter than the heatwave outside. He just melted me more than any hundred-degree kitchen has all week.
…And I want more. I want a lot more.