Page 10 of Craving Consequences

A moment of blind desire isn’t going to taste the same in the harsh light of day when Everly is sober and realizes what I did to her.

Sure, Lachlan was there. He participated. But I had my fingers inside her. I made her cum. I licked her pussy off my skin and wanted more.

I still do.

Sitting in the front seat of Lachlan’s truck with a barely dressed, barely awake Everly wedged between us, I have to resist the need to push her thighs apart and do it again. To hear that sound she makes right before cumming. The helpless little whimper that begs me to end her torment.

But I can’t. I shouldn’t. Again. She’s Lauren’s best friend. My stepdaughter’s only friend. The line is solid and reinforced with electric wiring. Lauren would never forgive me. She’ll look at me with disgust, betrayal. She will never understand how hard I tried, the years I fought my own demons to keep from draggingEverly into my lap, to keep from kissing her smiling mouth before taking her to my bed.

Lauren won’t care that I hadn’t meant to lose control. It won’t matter that Everly’s filthy confessions are burned into my skull, imprinted on my soul. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s hers. Her and that fucking dress and her red, lace panties with the wet crotch. Visible even in the dark parking lot as I helped her into the truck and she bent to crawl across the seat to the center like a cat.

Now, she’s nestled into my side, head pillowed on my shoulder, resting peacefully with my hand on her warm thigh. High up. Too high. And her skin is so soft. Smooth. It’s taking all my efforts not to trace circles into the flesh just inside. To not drag higher.

I didn’t put my hand there. I had no say when she burrowed into my side, looped her arms around mine and dragged the limb to her chest. I wasn’t going to push her away. I wouldn’t. Ever. I’d just as soon cut my damn limb off.

“We can’t do this.” Lachlan’s mumbling diverts my attention to the bleached knuckles fisted around the wheel.

I don’t think he’s talking to me, but I cock my head in amusement watching him fight himself.

A good friend would agree with him and support his sound reasoning because a good friend would be an adult withrational common sense. I am not that friend. While I fully agree this has taken an insane and dangerous turn...

I peer down at Everly’s dark head resting peacefully on my shoulder. Her scent, a wild musk filling the cabin. I brush a palm over all that gorgeous hair like I’ve wanted to do from the moment she stepped into my life without warning.

I’ve ached for this. For her. She is the Everly-shaped hole in my heart. Every day that passes without her has become bleaker, a stifling box I can’t escape. The fact that I can’t even tell my best friend she’s the cause of my spiraling depression only tightens the band of loneliness around my chest.

But now ... she’s in my arms. She’s right here, pressed into my side where she belongs, and I can finally breathe. The weight is off my lungs. It’s ridiculous and a lit match ready to burn the bridge connecting me to Lauren, but I can’t let her go.

My tiny bundle of light shifts against me. Her face turns into the curve of my shoulder like a kitten nuzzling into warmth. Her thighs squeeze my fingers as they rub together. She makes a noise of discomfort and lifts her head.

“Cold, baby?” I ask when she blinks unfocused eyes and pushes upright.

“No,” she grumbles sleepily.

Then, like she hasn’t already fucked with all our heads, she arches her back as far as the belt across her lap will allow, reaches beneath her skirt and drags her panties down her thighs.The red scrap continues the journey down her legs and snags on her heels. She fights them unsteadily until the lace is freed and she’s dropping back against her seat with the offering successfully gripped in her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Lachlan demands, the panic in his voice almost comical.

My little demon casually reaches over and presses the soaked fabric into his hand before returning to me. My arm is snagged and drawn to its rightful place snuggled against her chest like a favored teddy bear. She makes no protest when I settle my palm on her thigh. Instead, she drops her head on my shoulder.

“They’re too wet,” she mumbles with a sigh. “Uncomfortable.”

Goddamn it.

I hazard a glance in my best friend’s direction. Even in the dark cabin, the muscle in his jaw is a rapid heartbeat beneath his skin. The passing highway lights flicker in the brown of his eyes as they dart between the road and the wad of sin clutched in his grip.

I look away when he casts a sideways peek at me. I pretend not to see him bring them to his nose. Or when he tucks them into his pocket.

At least I won’t be alone in hell,I think.

But even as the thought flickers through me with razor focus, something quieter hums beneath it. Something I’ve beenavoiding thoughts of until the silence is all encompassing, and it will no longer be ignored.

I am a jealous, possessive man. I own it with the same pride as the medals I wear on my uniform and yet, it’s not clawing up my throat, burning my chest, ripping me apart watching another man touch what’s mine. And Everly is mine. Always has been. Always will be. Maybe even more now that I finally have her.

Yet, I watched her melt against Lachlan back at the bar. I watched her hold him to her while he sucked her nipples. I watched him kiss her soft mouth and claim her panties like they belonged to him now. I watched him hold her like he was made to do it, like she’s something scared in need of protection.

And the jealousy never came.

There is nothing but the heavy quiet of knowing deep in my gut that this is right. He is my brother and there isn’t another soul alive I would want holding her in my place. No one else I would ever let this close to her.

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