Page 56 of Gorgeous

In another life I would demand she come over here and fix the situation she’s teasing in my pants. A slow, aggressive blow job underneath my desk would definitely be better than thinking thoughts of my grandma in a bikini to solve the tenting going on right now.

“He seems pissed.”

Wait, what?

“Who seems pissed?”

She tips her head, indicating the person in the hallway. “Kane.”

Right. Kane Kurtzman. A new recruit Anniston scouted in New York during a Mavericks baseball game. Recently wounded and honorably discharged from the United States Marine Corps three months ago. Anniston said he was having a hard time adjusting to civilian life and thought we could help him.

Her text asked me to feel him out and see if I thought he would be a good fit for the family. Apparently, he intrigued her enough for her to hand him a bus ticket to the plantation. Normally, we like to take guys from our own community. God knows we have enough homeless veterans in this small town to last us a lifetime, but we have to be selective since we aren’t able to take veterans with too many psychological needs. Anniston sends all of us to a psychologist occasionally but we don’t have one here on staff.

Theo’s text went a little differently. His said, “What an asswipe. I hope you hate him as much as I do.”

Although Kane’s file is impeccable—he’s a highly decorated soldier and had just become a Gunnery Sergeant before he was injured—there are several memorandums by his superiors, most of which are for not following orders and being aggressive with his teammates. I like to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, like Anniston, but after Theo’s text and reviewing this guy’s file, I’m not sure he’s right for us.

“Tell him I’ll be with him in a minute,” I tell Breck, trying not to look at the cheerleader shorts she has on today.

“Okay, I’ll let him know.” She closes the door behind her and I hear her relaying my message.

I flip through his file one more time before raking my hands through my hair and willing myself to focus. I’m trying not to think about Breck dancing in the kitchen this morning, humming out some rap song she didn’t even know the words to. She kept inserting the wordwatermelonwhen she didn’t know the exact phrasing. I don’t know why I find it so endearing but I do. I stood there like a total stalker, watching her sway her hips before dropping into a squat and popping her butt in and out in those goddamned gym shorts that make me think inappropriate thoughts.

I wanted to stand behind her. I wanted her to grind on me and stop the ache in my jeans. I wanted her to build friction until I came inside my pants. But I did none of those things. I watched her until the song ended and she took a bow to the stove, stirring the grits she was making, then I bolted to my bedroom and jerked my dick twice to the image of me sliding in between those delicious cheeks that hung out of those tiny pink shorts of hers.

I’m going to hell.

And now my dick is hard again, a constant reminder that Breck is still here and not at the orchard where she belongs.

Giggling pulls me from my self-loathing and I stand, heading for the door. This motherfucker better keep his hands to himself. We have a strict policy on women in this house. It’s not upheld most of the time, but we still have one, damn it. Kane hasn’t even been accepted, and he’s already on my shit list. Maybe Theo is right this time. I think I already hate him for making Breck laugh.

Get a grip, Cade. He made her laugh, he didn’t fuck her against the coat rack.

I wrench open the door anyway, already annoyed. “Gunnery Sergeant Kurtzman, you can come in now.”

My first impression of Kane as he pulls his head back from Breck is: No.

No, he will not mesh well with us.

No, he will not be around Anniston and Breck, or just Anniston when Breck goes home for good.

He’s trouble, the cigarette behind his ear and the angry glare he sends my way all but spelling it out for me. Never mind that his entire body, save for his face, is decorated in tattoos. He looks like special forces but I don’t recall seeing that in his file.

“It was nice meeting you, B,” he says, winking playfully at her like they share a bond or something in the five minutes they spent together. Breck fucking giggles when he takes her hand and kisses it.

Oh, hell no.

“That will be all, Brecklyn.” I dismiss her like I’m the master and she’s my submissive.

Stop thinking sexy shit, Jameson!

The sharp intake of breath and the hurt in her eyes makes me instantly feel like a jackass. Why did I say that? She’s not my secretary or my servant. She’s become my friend, and I let jealousy really fuck up the progress we’ve made.

Breck gives Kane a sweet smile before curtsying and spewing sarcasm back at me. “Yes, sir. As you wish.”

Why does it feel like I’ve been shot?

I open my mouth to apologize, but she turns away and sprints off without another word. Kane, on the other hand, looks as though he could punch me in the face and not feel bad about it at all.

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