Page 4 of Tempt Me

“Bro, she’s a person, not an object, and she’s not my territory. Besides, she’s like my little sister.” I figure if I say it enough, I can make it the truth.

As Isaac stands, he cuffs my shoulder. “But you’ve never wanted to fuck your sister.”

“Enough, asshole.” I launch off the sofa, and Isaac backs up, placing his hands up in a self-defense stance. “You know I don’t have a sister.”

“That’s not the point.”

Fuck it. Fighting him isn’t going to solve my problems. I march across the room. As I approach the kitchen doorway, Xavier laughs at something Bella says and squeezes her shoulder.

“You’re the best.” Bella’s gaze darts to mine and then back to his. “Unlike certain other people.”

Do. Not. Engage. It won’t do you any good anyway. I shift to move past them, but neither of them budge.Jesus. When I brush past Bella, my arm grazes her breast, and heat floods over me until the tips of my ears are burning.

“Sorry,” I mumble without acknowledging her, nearly sprinting into the kitchen like I’m attempting to avoid a fire.

If I veer from my destination, I’m liable to yank off my shirt and shove it over her head so that no one else can see her and then drag her to my room. Except if I did that, I’d get punched in the jaw by Bella and tossed out on my ass by Ben and Sam.

Not to mention, I haven’t taken off my shirt around them for years.

Ben grins at me over his shoulder while stirring a wooden spoon in a pot on the stove. “You hungry?”

Yeah, I’m starving for a taste of your sister so I can officially save my place in hell. I straighten my shoulders and cough, “Starving. It smells amazing in here.”

“Thanks.”

My mouth waters. I thought the ‘Freshman 15’ was bad. Luckily, I was on the football team and could combat it by bulking up on muscle versus gut. But living with Ben is a different story. My roommate is a chef at a 5-star restaurant in the city. And when he’s not cooking there, he’s fattening us up at home by using us as guinea pigs for new recipes.

Ben narrows his eyes. “I thought it was hot in here, but I assumed it was the stove.” He walks to the thermostat and adjusts the temperature. “That should do it. We can’t have you looking like a tomato in here.”

There’s no way I’m telling him the reason I’m burning up is because all I think about is the different ways I’d love to defile Bella. In the kitchen. On the stairs. Her on top. Me on top.

I yank open the refrigerator, causing the condiments to clink together, and grab a pint of beer. There’s no use wishing for something to happen between us. I snap the lid off, toss the cap into the trash, and guzzle half the contents.

Xavier rubs her shoulder and walks away, leaving her alone by the door. She wouldn’t choose me even if I wanted to lose both of my best friends. I should’ve never stopped seeing her as a younger sister. Back then, she wasn’t a problem. She’s four years younger than me and spent most of her timeplaying Barbies while we were playing football or video games. Everything was fine then.

Granted, I always came to her defense when her brothers gave her a hard time. I hated seeing her sad and would include her in whatever we did when I could. But as she got older, she spent more time in her room and hanging out with her friends, so I didn’t see her as much. And then, I was busy in college.

But everything changed when she turned eighteen, and we all came together for a BBQ at their house. When I walked outside her parents’ house to see her carrying a tray of Kansas City-style barbeque ribs, the world tilted on its axis, and I’ve never been the same.

She was wearing a skin-tight white T-shirt with a pair of cutoff denim shorts and pink shoes made with some glittery stuff. Her long dark blonde hair looked like she’d just returned from the beach. And those ‘fuck me’ lips…. Jesus.

When her green eyes caught mine, my heart squeezed in my chest so hard I thought I was having a heart attack. She looked like a Victoria’s Secret model with the longest legs I’d ever seen. And I’ve wanted them wrapped around me ever since.

“What’re you making?” My stomach growls as I inch closer to the stove.

“Au jus for prime rib.” He grabs a bottle of red wine and pours a steady stream before easing up and returning the bottle to the counter.

I groan as my eyes close. I won’t be able to fit through the front door in a few months. A regular Sunday dinner is not supposed to be this good.

“How’s work going?” Ben asks. I reopen my eyes and watch as he stirs the aromatic sauce.

“Great. I love it. Rob is the best boss I could ask for, and the rest of the team are top-notch artists. And Rissa….” I chuckle as visions of the pintsized pixie who rules the tattoo shop with an iron fist takes front and center in my brain. “She’s amazing. I’ve never seen anything like her.”

“Pretty?” Ben turns to face me.

“Yes, she’s pretty. Pink hair and lots of attitude. But that’s not it. She’s intelligent and one hell of a business-minded woman.” I drain the remaining beer and toss the container in the trashcan. “Later this month, she has an art show in New York.”

Bella’s jaw is tight as she leans against the door jamb. She stretches her neck from side to side and shoves away from the door. Ping. Ping. Her back goes rigid as her phone notifications kick-off.

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