“Are you cold?” Brady asked as she was pulling her headphones from around her neck.
“A little,” she admitted, feeling a bit nervous now that they were really doing this. It was one thing to be spontaneous about it, something else entirely to have to sit and wait to get to his house so he could ravish her.
Brady reached over and pressed a button on the dash. “Seat warmer.”
Reilly grinned. “Not sure how much warmer it needs to get down there.”
His slight inhale pleased her. She wasn’t above teasing him.
He waited until they were off her street before he said, “How long have … uh … Donovan and Tate…?”
“Since tonight,” she told him, shifting in her seat so she could look at him. “Why?”
“No reason.”
“Tate’s had a thing for him for a long time.”
Brady nodded as though that made sense.
Unlike Tate, Donovan wasn’tflamboyantlygay, as Tate liked to say. He was out and had been since Reilly was a kid, but she’d never known her brother to date a man like Tate. His tastes leaned toward men like him. Brooding alphas. Tate was the farthest thing from it, and that was probably why Reilly loved him so much.
Not that Tate and Donovan were dating. She hoped they were, of course. For Tate’s sake. But she also knew that Tate was convinced that one night was all he needed with the big, brooding alpha male who’d struck his fancy a long time ago.
“Does it bother you?” she asked, more to make conversation than anything.
“What? Donovan and Tate?”
Reilly nodded.
“No. Should it?”
She shrugged. “You seem to have all these reservations about weird shit. Just thought I’d ask.”
Brady shook his head and grinned. “I don’t have reservations.”
“My apologies. I guess when you said”—she lowered her voice to mimic his—“‘Donovan’ll kill me,’you were referrin’ to somethin’ else.”
“Reilly…”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Mr. McCord,” she teased. “I’m just givin’ you shit.”
He reached for her hand but not to link their fingers. Brady tugged on her arm until she leaned toward him. When she did, he pressed her hand to the hard ridge that was becoming best friends with his zipper.
“You keep callin’ me that, and we’re gonna have a problem.”
To prove she wasn’t scared of him, Reilly rubbed his erection through his jeans. “Doesn’t feel like a problem to me,Mr. McCord.”
“Just wait, little girl.”
Oh, man. Nowthat… that she could totally get behind. Reilly’d been on an age-gap kick for a while now, reading all the books she could get her hands on. The filthier, the better. And the ones with that whole daddy kink really did it for her. Not so much using the term daddy, but that authoritative dominant male thing revved her engine like nothing else.
Not that she wanted to tell Brady that. After all, he was the reason she had that particular fetish, and the last thing she wanted was to point out their age difference. He was already hung up on her being Donovan’s little sister. He didn’t need another excuse not to follow through.
Brady pressed his hand over hers, urging her to rub him harder. She leaned into him, resting her head on his arm as she ground her palm against his cock.
“I guess you haven’t reached the age when you need that little blue pill, huh?”
Brady choked on a laugh, releasing her hand and shifting his arm around her. “Jesus, girl. You’re gonna be the death of me.”
