“Now I’m an addict?”
Ryan shakes his head. “Most everyone thinks you’re going behind my back. That you’re either robbing me blind or working for a competitor because Pops left the ranch to me and not you.”
“Jesus, Ryan. You really think that?”
“Nah.” My brother meets my gaze. “At least, I didn’t until everyone got in my head.”
“So, what’s your theory, then?” His is the only opinion I really care about.
His lips turn up at the corners. “A woman. Of course.”
I lift my brows. “You think I’ve gone and settled down?”
“You’ve done some crazy shit over the years, but nothing like this. I figured you went and fell in love.”
Love?Impossible.
“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, but I’m single as ever.”
It’s the truth, technically, but the proclamation doesn’tfill me with the same sense of pride as it used to. Sure, I’m still the same person. This thing with Rosalie hasn’t changed me. I’m not in love. I can’t be.
Then, how come the allure of sleeping with multiple partners doesn’t hold the appeal it did before she moved into my cabin? Hell, sex that doesn’t include Rosalie isn’t even on my radar. Which is weird because there’s never been a time I’ve considered exclusivity. Or been content with the company of one person.
Fuck.Maybe Ryan is right?Did I go and fall for Rosalie?
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m not in love,” I state a little too forcefully.
Ryan laughs.
“I’m not!”
He lifts his brows and gives me a smile that calls my bluff.
“Okay, then, what’s got those gears in that head of yours turning?”
“Just thinking about what I can steal next to fund my sex cult,” I retort.
“Okay.” He pats my shoulder. “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, then back to work.”
“Yes, sir.” I roll my eyes right back at him.
“And Jackson?” He waits until I meet his gaze before continuing. “Without the porn this time.”
“It’s not porn!” I proclaim, pushing to my feet. “It’s cliterature. And it’s actually very informative.”
He slaps my back and laughs, walking alongside me. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, Einstein.”
At the endof the day, I practically race back to Rosalie. When I find her ready and waiting in my home—this time dressed in nothing but a pair of lace panties—my brain short-circuits. One second I’m stripping off all my clothes, the next I’m showered andchasing Rosalie upstairs to my bedroom. It’s like those times when you’re driving home, and you don’t remember anything about the route, you just find yourself sitting at your destination.
She lies back on my sheets, a vibrator in her hands—not Mr. Darcy. She slides the toy between her spread legs—a fucking goddess—and I can’t look away. She moves the thin lace of her panties to the side, and her folds are slick with wetness as she pushes the tip of the vibe inside. “You gonna stay there and watch . . . or join us?” Her teasing wakes me from my lust stupor. It’s the only invitation I need.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I slide a hand up her leg and spread it wider. “Fuck, baby. You look so good fucking yourself.”
She moans, pushing the toy deeper, using it to plunge inside then running it over her clit.
“Show me,” I practically groan my demand. In one hand, I stroke myself, while the other holds her leg wide, giving me the perfect view. There’s a part of the book, toward the beginning, where the alien hero asks the heroine to teach him about human sex. It’s erotic and sexy as hell, and I’m the lucky asshole who gets to reenact it. A shiver runs up my spine, as I lean down for a better view.
