We wrestle ourselves out of polyester hell. We’re a mess—her hair wild, my dragon tail discarded, both of us breathless as I gaze down at her.
She’s laughing when I catch her face in my hands, but the second our mouths meet again, laughter turns molten. Her lips soft, but her mouth hungry.
With my costume discarded, I’m in joggers and a t-shirt, but able to move a little easier and feel the heat between her thighs as I grind my erection into her.
A moan vibrates into my mouth, and she lifts her hips, meeting my thrust despite the fabric of her tights still clinging to her.
“My foot,” she whispers.
I shift my weight above her on the sofa, making sure I’m not touching the cast around her ankle.
“We can’t do this, Drake, my foot.”
“I don’t plan on fucking your foot. Relax, you can be a pillow princess while I eat out my pumpkin.”
Paint smears, green on her cheek, orange on mine. I don’t care. All I can think is how right it feels to have this fiery, chaotic woman pressed against me.
And how badly I want more.
“My brother.” Her voice slices through the haze, body tensing.
I groan against her lips. “He never has to know.”
She jerks back, eyes wide. “No, Drake. He’s here.”
Chapter Ten
DRAKE
Her lips are still wet against mine, her breath caught somewhere between her throat and my mouth.
“Em?” A familiar voice calls.
My stomach drops like a hot stone.
Flint.
Shit.
Ember freezes under me. She’s down to nothing but her knickers and the flimsy top she wore under her costume, hair wild, cheeks flushed. She clings to my t-shirt, my costume and dragon tail abandoned somewhere on the carpet.
“This better not be what it looks like, dragon boy.” His voice is deep and authoritative, as if I’ve just breathed fire over the town.
I drop my head, my eyes glued to Ember’s bright green ones, almost fluorescent under her living room light.
Boots thud closer, but I daren’t move, not wanting to expose Ember in her half-dressed state.
“Drake,” he shouts, cutting through the thick atmosphere like smoke filling the room and making it difficult to breathe.
Time stops. The pumpkin suit discarded on the floor like a crime scene, and I’m caught in the act.
For one insane second, I brace for him to rip me off her. But as I turn, still shielding her modesty behind me, Flint just stands there, his jaw tight, his gaze heavy.
“It’s… not what it looks like,” I stutter. My Adam’s apple bobs as I swallow the thick air and scramble off the sofa.
He crosses his arms over his chest as he glares at me. “It better not be. It looks to me like you’re taking advantage of my sister.” He takes off the overcoat covered in fake blood from his zombie costume and hands it to Ember.
She wraps it around her as she steps out from behind me. “Flint, what are you doing here?”
