Chapter Twelve
West
Ileave the bedroomwith fire in my veins and need pulsing low in my balls.I’m hard as a fucking rock after smelling her arousal in the air, seeing her sex toy still glistening with her juices.Fuck.That about killed me.I haven’t dared move since she threw me out, because I’m not sure I can.If I move from the wall, I’ll follow her in there, bend her over the bed and use that damn toy on her myself.So I breathe deeply, squeeze my dick through my jeans—that suddenly feel two sizes too tight—and throw my head back against the wall.
I’m trying real hard not to picture her in the shower, soap covering those fucking luscious tits and sliding down over her pregnant belly to pool in the nest of curls between her legs.Is she a natural blonde, does she shave or wax?Fuck.I cannot be thinking of my best friend’s pussy.Oh, but I am.The scent of her in that room?Fuck me.I could come in my pants just inhaling her.And now I’m harder than ever.
I clear my throat, let out a deep breath and walk to the front door, sticking my head around the doorjamb so my brothers can’t see my boner.
“What’s the hold up?”Wyatt says.
“Daisy is ...indisposed.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Yeah, come on, brother,” Wade frowns, bouncing impatiently in the backhoe seat.“We don’t got time to sit around here all day while you play house with the pretty blonde inside.”
“Just give her a damn minute,” I snap.“Just give us all a damn minute.”
“What the hell happened inside?”Wyatt asks.
“Nothin’.”
“Sure don’t sound like nothin’.”Wade waggles his brows.
“Shut the fuck up,” I gripe, and head back to the hallway.Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and concentrate on my breath, but I feel like jumping out of my skin just to get to her.I’m so focused on breathing, I don’t notice her opening the door, or coming down the hall until she’s right next to me.
“It’s all yours,” she says nervously.Her gaze meets mine, I can feel the yearning from both of us.I dart out my tongue to wet my lip, because I’m fucking thirsty after what I just saw and smelled, and goddamn do I want a taste.I want to take her in my arms so fucking badly it hurts, but I can’t.Instead, I push off the wall, certain she can see my rock-hard dick, and I turn to face her.
“Thanks.”
“I’m ...mortified.”
I lean in, a little closer than I should and her fucking strawberry shampoo makes me want to rip her clothes off and fuck her right here.I’d start by dropping to my knees and eating her greedy little cunt until she’s gripping my hair and squirting in my mouth.But I don’t do any of that, because we’re friends.Just friends, and friends don’t fuck.
I tuck a loose strand of wet hair behind her ear.My voice is thick with gravel when I say, “You shouldn’t be.We all got needs, darlin’.Knowing you touch yourself, knowing you use whatever the fuck that thing is—it’s hot as fuck, Dais.”
I walk by and push into the room, my eyes scanning the newly stripped bed and the spotless nightstand.Fuck.I’ll need a little playtime when I get home, and it won’t be with Ham in the yard.I head to the window and unlock it, sliding the sash up.My brother’s wait outside the room, Wade still seated in the backhoe and Wyatt stands on the ground below.He’s already roped up several tree limbs so we can easily remove them.
“Oh my god, finally,” Wyatt says.
