That was why, seeing her so haphazardly clothed, even if she was in a ratty pair of sweatpants and a worn-out camisole, was really turning me on.
I’d just shoved my hand down the front of my sweatpants to readjust my dick when she turned around and locked eyes with me.
My hand down my pants froze, fingers wrapped around my cock to position it better down the length of my thigh.
Her eyes took me in, hands down my pants, dick hard and straining the gray fabric, and a look of torture on my face.
Her eyes went from my torso to my hand, back to my face, then back to my hand.
I pushed my dick down, which didn’t really work, and removed my hand from my pants.
“You know,” she said softly.
I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.
Which had me so goddamn curious that I put my food onto the counter and leaned a hip against the granite.
“Know what?” I pushed, making no effort to hide my hard-on even though I probably should have.
I couldn’t have her.
I’d made Searcy and Doc promises when they helped Calli find a home. I’d promised to always watch out for her. And somehow, I didn’t think fucking their sister was on the list of appropriate things they’d wanted me to take care of.
“I don’t know.” She licked her lips, her eyes once again trailing down the length of my exposed chest.
If this were any other person, I’d think they were staring at the scars. But with Calli, I didn’t think she even saw them.
It was like they were there, but they didn’t affect how she saw me.
Sometimes, when I’d catch her staring, I’d just know that she was looking at something other than my imperfections.
Her cheeks would always heat, and she’d look away.
For the longest time I’d told myself it was because she was uncomfortable around me. Uncomfortable around everybody.
But the more I stood there thinking about it, the more I realized that it was literally just me.
She always fought with me.
She always competed.
She always watched me.
She watched me like I watched her.
She competed with me like I competed with her.
Honestly, fighting with her never ceased to make me fucking ache for her.
Was that what it was doing for her, too?
I suddenly straightened, unsure what the hell I was going to do, but knowing I was about to do something.
Or I would have had she not come to the same conclusion at the same time.
With one swift move, we both reached for each other at the same time.
I had her in my arms and up on the counter among the discarded Chinese food containers in the next breath.
