Page 84 of My Fiancé's Brother

“Jackson, I'm sorry,” I yanked open the door and hauled my ass out of there. I ran to my bathroom and slid down the wall, my face in my hands. I was breathing hard, even more tingly than when he kissed me. I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Flashes of his body kept replaying in my mind. Jackson, in all his glory. Aroused. Erect. It was so big. I had no idea how something like that would even fit into a woman. That wasn’t even normal, was it?

Jackson was gorgeous, but Jackson naked and aroused, that was something that would ruin me for all other men. OMG. I would never be able to think of anything else when he was in the room.

Matt was never around. I didn’t even care. Because I was in so deep with how I felt about Jackson, I couldn’t even think straight. Did I try and end it with Matt? No. Did I try and fix things? No. Did I try and end our engagement? No. Because in my mind I was still planning on marrying Matt.

I told myself lie after lie. We were going through a rough patch. This was just wedding jitters for both of us. None of this was real. My feelings for Jackson were not real. I needed to get a grip. I needed to get my facts straight. One, Jackson was so out of my pay grade it wasn’t even funny. Two, he did not want me. Most of this situation was my overactive imagination. Three, if the world was ending and for some bizarre reason we decided to cross that line, it would destroy his relationship with Matt and Irene. Four, he had a dangerous job, and he didn’t want marriage, and he didn’t want children. I did. Five, there was zero chance of any future between us.

Now I needed to go downstairs and act like nothing was wrong. I needed to face the music.

I mademy way down the stairs. Jackson was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. His hair was damp. He was wearing jeans and at-shirt that clung to his hard chest. With his long legs crossed, he scrolled on his phone.

I sat down at the island and took a deep breath and avoided his gaze.

“I ordered some pizza,” he finally said.

“Okay, thanks,” my voice sounded weird.

He stepped forward and with exaggerated care, placed my iPod on the island in front of me. Neither of us spoke. I traced my finger over a pattern in the granite. Not awkward at all. I thought about his huge erect member in his big hand. I turned bright red. I covered my face with my hands and moaned.

He laughed. “Em.”

“I'm very sorry about that."

“You got yourself a little-unexpected peep show.”

“Jackson, stop,” I pleaded. “I didn’t know you were home.”

“The look on your face,” he baited. “It’s like you’ve never seen anyone do that before.”

My eyes, against my stern permission, flew to his face. He was staring at me with the most intense look.

“You have seen a guy jerk off before, haven’t you?” he asked slowly.

I shook my head. The words were coming out of my mouth like someone had injected me with truth serum. “I haven’t seen a naked guy before. At least not in real life.”

Desire flickered to life in his eyes as he held my gaze. “Emily, what exactly have you done?”

I licked my lips. “Why?”

“Curious.”

I told myself to think of this as a friendly sex-ed talk with an older guy friend. “I’ve kissed.”

“And?”

I shrugged, dropping my eyes.

“Have you ever had a guy go down on you?”

My eyes flew to his face. “Like with his mouth?”

“Yes, with his mouth.”

“No!”

“Have any of your little boyfriends ever coped a feel.”

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