“Bloody menace,” is all he says as he bolts out of the car and glares at me, his eyes shooting daggers my way.
“What? I just gave you the ride of your life, big guy.”
Chapter Three
Dev
She’s just as cute as she always was. At thirteen she’d been a slip of a thing, following Grey and myself around and getting into as many scrapes as possible for such a clumsy girl.
She’d been mischievous and awkward and naughty as hell, hence the name ‘imp’. At sixteen I’d had to warn her off and rip the stars from her eyes, effectively killing the schoolgirl crush she’d had on me since the first time she’d seen me and stammered her hellos.
Not that I hadn’t thought her beautiful, even then, but at twenty-two I’d been loath to encourage her sixteen-year-old heart, lest I do something to break the fragile gem.
Now she’s well past the age of consent and all woman, believe you me. I know, since I’d had a hell of a time hiding my all too eager dick cramped within the confines of the little box she calls a car.
Besides being damn near horrified at her driving—something we’ll be talking about soon, as she’s way too reckless and enamored of speed—I’d been forced to breathe in her jasmine scent for over an hour while my erection endeavored to crawl out of my trousers and into her lap, quite ready to do her bidding.
Bloody traitor.
Not that I don’t want imp, I really do, have since I’d gone to that bloody engagement party the year she turned eighteen and seen her in that little yellow dress that hugged her plumpness just right.
But Becky Slade can never be mine, not if I want to keep her brother as a friend. I’ve known this for years now, after he’d caught me staring slack-jawed at her and warned me off. I resented it then and managed to stay away, not wanting another episode like the one we’d had, but I’ve known the man almost ten years now since we met in college and shared an apartment, and I have no intention of ruining that friendship for a night between imp’s thighs.
Because that’s all it can be, one night. I never go in for seconds, not after Gia and what she’d taught me, no matter how delectable the woman is.
I have a feeling that one night with the little firecracker wouldn’t be enough, so I’ve resolved to keep things just as they are between us: as platonic as possible, with the way my boy is chomping at the bit to get in there and stake a claim.
Shit.
“You coming or what?”
And that smart mouth of hers isn’t bloody helping. I’m too used to her stammering and blushing when she talks to me. This mouthy piece is doing terrible things to my already raging lust, and I’m not sure I like it one bit.
Where’s my cautious, starry-eyed little imp? I’m not sure what’s happened to change her, or if she’s just having a bad day, but I want my sycophantic imp back, not this scornful baggage who’d rather not look at me at all.
“Rebecca—”
“Hey, Becks!”
I’m stopped from an apology—whatever it is,she needs to look at me again—when Lila comes bounding out of the house, her midnight black tresses blowing behind her as she skips over and launches her lanky frame at a much shorter Becky, all arms and legs, like an enthusiastic puppy.
“Hiya, baby doll. You look even skinnier than usual! Stop making me feel fatter, you bitch!” she laughs, just managing to right herself before they can both go crashing to the ground in an inglorious sprawl.
The way she says it—jokingly—comes out on a chuckle, but it pisses me off nevertheless. She’s perfect just the way she is, and the fact that she doesn’t think so makes my jaw ache. I clench it so hard my ear pops.
That bloke at the airport seemed to have liked her just fine, I think, steeling myself against the anger that thought provokes. Strangely, I am not pleased at the thought of another looking at imp and seeing what I see: a desirable woman ripe for the taking.
“Oh shush, girl, you look fabulous! Oh, Dev!”
I smirk when the leggy chit jumps my way and seizes me in a rib-cracking hug, her skinny frame belying her strength.
“Hi, Lila lips, you’re not having cold feet yet? Run away with me,” I tease, like I have since the day I met her and told Grey she’s way too good for his ugly arse.
“Never. My heart is taken, evil man,” she smirks, lightly punching my shoulder and looking at the car behind me. “So how was the drive?”
“Bloody harrowing. The woman has never met the brake pedal in her bleeding life! And that’s after I had to watch some wanker practically try to crawl his way down her chest.”
I don’t mention the hard on or the fact that I’d tried to engage in conversation at least four times and been rebuffed each and every time, my efforts met with a silent pursing of her lips and a raised brow.