I shove my face into my pillow so they can’t hear me laughing through the open door. I keep listening, but all I can hear now is mumbling. This lasts awhile. Then Asher walks into our room, closing the door behind him. His face is blank as he sits down on the bed, takes off his shoes, then stands, and takes his shirt off. After seventeen years, his body is still amazing. He looks at me and I see so much love in his eyes that it’s hard for me to breathe. The pillow is still against my face with my eyes peeking out over the top of it.
“So, what did you say?” I ask in a muffled voice.
“She’s going on a date on Friday,” he grumbles and I fall back in bed, laughing so hard that tears are streaming down my face.
Yes, this is bliss, I think to myself.
Until Trevor
Aurora Rose Reynolds
Prologue
Trevor
“You’re really fucking tight!” I say, sliding through her wetness, feeling her wrap tight around one finger. “How long has it been?” I ask her, while biting down on her earlobe; damn, I love the sound she makes.
“Never,” she whimpers, raising her hips up to meet my hand.
Jolting awake, I look at the time, seeing that it’s just after two in the morning. “This shit is getting ridiculous,” I say, scrubbing my hands down my face. Ever since the night I had my hand down Liz’s pants, this shit’s been plaguing me. The second the word “never” came out of her gorgeous mouth, everything stopped. I couldn’t fuck a virgin, especially one that’s as sweet as Liz.
“You’re awake?” Anna…or Amber—maybe it’s Angie—says from the other side of the bed.
“Yeah, time for you to go, sugar,” I say, sitting up and wondering why the fuck I keep doing this to myself. Fucking these other women is like walking with a bottle of saltwater through a desert. You know it might look the same, but it still won’t fulfill the need you have.
“Can’t I stay?” She whines, running her fingers down my back.
“Nope,” I say, standing and pulling up a pair of my grey AE sweats.
“So you’re just going to kick me out?”
“Nope, I’m telling you it’s time for you to go. Kicking you out would be bad manners.”
“When can we meet up again?” She asks, putting back on her tight blue dress, wondering how the hell she slipped out of it so damn fast last night.
“I’ll call you; just leave your number,” I say, walking into the bathroom, knowing by the time I get out, she will be nothing but a memory.
“Yo, T!” Cash says, sliding into the booth across from me. I smirk; he uses that word at least a hundred times a day. “What are you doing here?”
I raise an eyebrow, shoving another piece of French toast into my mouth, and answering without speaking.
“You’re going to Mom and Dad’s this weekend? Asher is finally lifting the ban on access to July, so Mom’s having a big party,” he says, looking excited.
“Does he know that Mom’s having a party?” I ask, thinking that if he doesn’t know anything about this, he’s going to flip the fuck out. Yep. I’ve only seen my niece twice, and only held her once, after November forced Asher to give her over.
Cash shrugs, looking over my shoulder. “Yo!” he calls, waving his hand. I look back and see Liz standing near the front door. Her long blonde hair is over one shoulder in some kind of messy braid; her strapless summer dress is fitted around her perfect breasts and reaches the floor. She waves, her cheeks turning a pretty pink; then I see red when some guy pulls her in for a hug.
“And who the fuck is that?” I growl, knowing that my brothers are used to my Liz issues.
Cash shrugs again. “Don’t know,” he mumbles, watching them. “Yo, Liz. Come here for a second,” he calls her over. The guy she’s with walks to a different booth and sits facing us.
“Hi, guys,” she says, her voice as soft as the curves of her body; and with me knowing what she feels like and smells like, it still fucks with my head.
“You’re going to Mom and Dad’s for the party this weekend, right?” Cash asks.
She looks at me, her face closing off before she answers, “I’m, um, not sure.”
“Who’s the guy?” I ask. She looks startled by the question for a second.
“Just a friend,” she says, wringing her hands together.
“What’s his name?” I ask, looking over at the guy, who has his eyes pointed right at her ass. He’s younger than me by a few years. His dark blonde hair is a mess, and he looks like a fucking bank teller in his cheap-ass suit.