“Did she know you were bi?”
“I’m not bi.”
Orla’s dark brows twitched. “What?”
“Come here.”
She did without question, straddling my lap still wearing those sinful leggings from this morning. It had been such a day it was hard to believe this was the sight I’d woken up to. Her beautiful face. Her knockout body, all wrapped up in wet-look whatever and lace.
I let my hands trace her round hips, then ghost higher, giving her every chance to stop me before I reached her full breasts.
She didn’t, and they were so heavy in my palms that I couldn’t keep my thumbs from skimming the lace that contained them. “It’s not these that make you attractive to me. They’re beautiful because they’re yours. And it’s the same with Nash’s big dick. I don’t care what’s under anyone’s clothes. If I want to fuck you, it’s because of what’s inhere.”
I tapped two fingers to her heart.
On her knees, Orla gazed down at me, her hair escaping the knot on top of her head, spilling into her face, hiding her from me.
I brushed it back and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
Fuckin’ hell. For the hundredth time that day, the millionth in my lifetime, Logan’s voice echoed in my head.
“You don’t just fuck people, Locke. You never have.”
I never just kissed people either. But I kissed Orla now. Or maybe she kissed me. As we collided, it didn’t seem to matter. Nothing did, except the surge of her soft body against mine and the ever-present warmth of feeling like Nash was right here with us.
It was a kiss that could’ve burned the world down. Her clothes were thin, her tits already more than I could handle, and her lush mouth became her inked neck, her sweet-scented collarbone, and the valley between the mounds in my hands.
I breathed her in, the same fire I felt for Nash igniting in my veins, and it was all I could do not to throw her down on the couch, to pin her with my body, and rip every scrap of fabric from her until she was as bare to me as Nash had been this morning.
Nash.
Thinking of him and kissing Orla was fuckin’ bewitching. But it also reminded me that we weren’t done with a conversation that couldn’t wait.
I fought for control, butfuck, it was hard. Her lips were soft. Addictive. Her scent melted my brain, and I needed her naked almost as much as I needed him here with us.
Almost.
A tiny word, but it held the power of the small army I needed to pull me from Orla.
To stop kissing her.
I drew back, a rueful chuckle shaking us both. “Sorry.”
Orla kissed my temple. “For what?”
“For derailing what we were talking about.”
Beneath the tats, there was a flush to Orla’s pale skin, a heat in her gaze that let me know she was spinning as much as I was. But Nash, man. None of this could happen until I understood the tick in his brain that had wrenched him from me earlier.
Can’t hurt him.
I’d rather fuckin’ die.
We simmered down. I settled back into the couch and Orla curled up on my lap.
Her hair was in my face.
I could’ve moved it.
