Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 51484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
“He’s the one who attacked me, baby sister.”
“Really? That’s your defense?” I shake my head, fighting tears. “What happened to you, Jamison? You used to be my hero. Now, you’re someone I don’t even recognize. You’re someone I don’t even like.”
He’s quiet for a moment, the only sound is his breath rasping down the line. “You don’t mean that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I say sadly. “I absolutely mean it. Don’t call me again until you’re ready to be honest with me.”
“Goddammit, Sutton. He’s just using you to get back at me. Use your head and don’t fall for it.”
“Just because that’s what you would do, doesn’t mean he’s capable of it. But you never really knew him at all, did you?” I hang up on him, dropping the phone onto my lap as tears well in my eyes. I want to cry, but I’m not sure I have any tears. Just…frustration. And disappointment. This version of my brother sucks.
Hell, maybe he’s always been this version of himself, and I was just too blind to notice. Our parents died when I was fourteen. Jamison could have sent me to live with the great aunt who never really liked us, but he didn’t. He took custody of me. He took care of me. And I idolized him for it. He could do no wrong in my eyes after that.
Did I miss signs because I was too grateful to look for them? Has he always been this self-serving person willing to sacrifice and hurt the people closest to him just to save himself?
A little part of me can’t help but wonder if he only took me in, not because he loved me, but because it made him look good. I hate thinking that way, questioning his motives. But I can’t help it, either. He was in love with Vanessa, and he did something awful enough to her to cause all of this pain and turmoil. Could he really use me just to get ahead?
I hate that I don’t know how to answer that question.
My phone rings again.
I growl, jabbing the button to answer without even looking at the screen. “I told you not to freaking call me until you were ready to tell me the truth!”
“Don’t recall having that conversation with you, princess,” Jordan rumbles into the phone.
“Jordan!”
“Expecting someone else?” he asks, a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, my idiot brother,” I huff, flopping back against the pillows. “Judging by his attitude when he called, I’m guessing the two of you talked at some point tonight.”
“Shit. He called you, causing problems?” Jordan asks, his voice a deep growl that grits against my insides.
“Yeah,” I whisper, wrapping myself around my pillow again. “But he’ll get over it. You told him about us?”
“Not exactly, but he knows enough.” His heavy sigh sends static down the line. “It’s a long story. I don’t really want to rehash it tonight.”
Not talking about my brother sounds absolutely perfect to me.
“What do you want then?” I ask, my voice soft…teasing.
“To hear you moaning my name while you fuck your fingers,” he says bluntly. “You going to give it to me?”
“Maybe.” I press my legs together, fighting a moan. “What are you going to give me if I do?”
“My cock. As soon as our plane lands.”
“What if I want it now, Jordan?” I ask, flipping onto my back. One hand drifts down my body, pinching one hard nipple between my thumb and forefinger. A jolt goes straight to my clit, and I barely manage to stifle a whimper. “What if I want you fucking your hand while you listen to me?”
“Fuck,” he groans, his voice low and gritty. “You think I won’t be, Sutton? I’m mad as hell that I’m not inside you, fucking you raw right now. So slide that perfect hand down your body and fuck yourself with your fingers until I let you come. Let me fall asleep dreaming about something beautiful.”
My heart flutters even as heat rushes through me in a powerful flood. How is he sweet and filthy at the same time? I don’t know, but I love it. The combination on his tongue is addictive.
I kick my pajama shorts and panties off, not really caring where they land. This time, when I pinch my nipple, I don’t fight the whimper climbing up my throat. I let him hear it, let him know that I’m doing exactly what he wants.
“Christ, that sound, baby,” he growls as rustling comes down the line. “What are you doing to yourself?”
“Pinching my nipple.” My hand slips down my stomach, hovering over my pussy. Of course I’ve touched myself before. A million times while thinking about him. But I’ve never done it with anyone listening. It’s different. New. Thrilling in a way I didn’t expect.
And maybe that little thrill racing through my veins is what makes me bolder than I’ve ever been in my life. I pause long enough to hit the switch on the lamp, casting light into the room, and then stack up pillows at the foot of the bed before adjusting my phone so it’s pointed toward me. Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit the button to turn the simple phone call into a video chat.