Page 3 of Too Hot to Handle

When I open my eyes again, Layla is bent over with her sweet ass in the air again.

Fuuuck.

two

Layla

“What are you doing?” Uncle Jay's voice barks at me.

I straighten and hold up the ring clutched between my fingers. “It was my mother's.” I show it to him. “It’s too big for me, so it keeps sliding off my finger, but I couldn't leave it behind.”

He grunts by way of answer as he marches over to me and opens the passenger door of his SUV. He's standing so close to me, I can smell the spicy scent of his cologne.

My eyes travel up to his firm jaw. His big chest is heaving up and down. “Are you sure you're okay, Uncle Jay?” I ask him again.

His nostrils flare, and he visibly swallows, but instead of answering, he tells me, “Get in the car, princess.”

Princess. I instinctively clench my legs together. I don't know why that word from his lips affects me. All I know is it causes a pulsing at the apex of my thighs.

My legs are shaking as I step up into the SUV. Jay stands behind me the whole time. I can feel his eyes on me. When I’m seated, he leans into the vehicle, pulls the seatbelt over me, and clicks it into place. I stare at the stubble lining his jaw.

When he looks up, our eyes meet. His eyes are a beautiful stormy gray. They’re unlike any color I’ve ever seen before. His minty breath fans across my lips, and my nipples pebble in my tank top. Good lord, Uncle Jay is so hot. Well, he's not really my uncle, but it’s what I called him when I was a little girl.

I haven’t seen him for years, but I know he and my father talked on the phone occasionally. I remember him being big and tall, but I never noticed just how gigantic he is. He straightens out of the vehicle, and I stare at him in awe, watching his muscles flex with each movement.

He throws my bags in the trunk before he walks around to the driver's side and slides in. My eyes flick down to his thighs. They’re built like cannons, big and meaty and just oh my god, the man is huge everywhere. This SUV is huge, yet he seems to take up the entire space. There’s no way he’d fit in a sports vehicle. At barely five feet tall, I’m tiny in comparison and don’t even reach his chest when standing. He’s big enough to crush me with one hand. I don't know why the thought excites me, but it does.

My breathing quickens, and more moisture pools between my thighs. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe Uncle Jay is surly because he doesn't want me living with him.

My stomach drops at the thought. I don't want to be a burden. I'm eighteen, so technically, I'm an adult. I can live on my own. Yeah, I'm a senior in high school, but I can still go to school and find somewhere to live. Can’t I? I chew on my lip.

“You know, you don't have to do this, Uncle Jay.” I give him an out. “I'm eighteen, so I can live on my own.”

His head whirls to look at me. “Absolutely fucking not!”

I should probably be offended at his authoritarian tone, but it causes liquid heat to pool deep inside me. I like it when he takes that tone with me, though I don't know why.

I clench my thighs tighter. Uncle Jay’s eyes cut down to them before he shakes his head and curses under his breath, frowning deeper.

His behavior confuses me. “You seem to be mad at me or something.”

His big chest heaves up and down again like he can't suck in enough air, and he sends me a look I can’t decipher. “Not mad at you, princess. That's not it at all.”

“Well, then, what is it, Uncle Jay?”

His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and he grits, “Don't call me that.”

My brow furrows. “What?”

“Uncle Jay.” He speaks from behind clenched teeth. “I’m not your uncle, Layla.”

I pause. Is that what has him so upset? “What do I call you then?”

“Call me Jay.”

“Jay.” I test out his name. It might be my imagination, but I think I see a shudder pass through his big frame.

And that fills me with a rush of feminine power.


Tags: Emma Bray Romance