“I want you, Gia. I’ve wanted you from the moment you first bounced into that New Year’s Eve party.”
We were so close, I felt her lick her lips. The wet brush of her tongue against my mouth went straight to my dick.
“I don’t bounce,” she said primly. The breathy quality of her voice made me even harder.
“Of course, you do.” I smiled, though I had a feeling the expression was more feral than friendly. “I like that you bounce.”
Then I put my hand straight on my favorite bouncy part of her, lifting her breast and molding it with my fingers while my nail scraped across her nipple.
“You’re trying to distract me with sex,” she said.
I was. And it was working.
So I kissed her again, this time with more demand. She succumbed to the thrust of my tongue. Since this was my kitchen, I maneuvered us so I could trap her in the corner between the counter and the refrigerator. Then I rolled in front of her and thrust against her belly while a bonfire lit in my blood.
Her hands were on my head, her legs weak as I pushed a knee between hers. I planned to let her ride my thigh while I stripped her shirt off her and worshipped her breasts. I could tell she wanted it as much as I did. Her tongue pushed against mine with a feverish intensity. And her left leg was dragging me closer. Hotter. Hungrier.
Knock. Knock.
I heard two quick, hard raps before the front door opened and my sister’s voice rang clearly through the room. “Hey! It’s me. You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked. Anybody could walk in.”
Her tone was joking, and I had to leap across the kitchen in a way that jarred my psyche as much as my body. My left knee screamed at the sudden torque, and I took a limping step around the door to block Gia from view.
“Cassie,” I breathed, trying to force my voice into sounding normal. I failed. It came out rasping and too high-pitched, and I prayed my sister didn’t notice. “You, um, you made it.”
She frowned at me and then peered over my shoulder, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Gia,” she said, her voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”
“Trying to get an interview with your brother,” Gia answered, her tone perfectly professional. I turned to stare at her. Her hair was in its usual messy knot, and her clothing was exactly in place. She’d folded her arms across her front, probably to hide her erect nipples, and though her cheeks were slightly flushed, there were no obvious signs of what we’d been doing. Geez, you’d think she often kissed guys then turned around and gave interviews on CNN.
Then again, what did I know? Maybe she did.
“And I’m not giving one,” I said, my voice sour.
“Why not?” Cassie asked. “Isn’t she on your side?”
Gia snorted. “That’s what I asked. And you know what he said?”
Cassie frowned as she looked at me. She was wearing her usual jeans and T-shirt. Her golden blond hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were bright. She looked…solid, and my breathing eased at the reassuring sight.
“I’m guessing he just grunted,” Cassie said.
“Yup,” Gia answered.
Well, a grunt and a kiss that still had my dick throbbing. That was when a disturbing thought filtered through my disorganized mind.
“How do you two know each other?”
Cassie dropped her backpack on the floor before she leaned against the back of the couch and folded her arms. “She came to one of my games last year and introduced herself.”
“What?” I demanded, my voice sharp. “I’ve made it absolutely clear that none of the press talks to my family. None.” My fury was directed at both of them. Cassie for talking to Gia, and Gia for finding my sister in the first place. No one was supposed to know Cassie even existed. That Gia had violated that order made me livid, but I didn’t get a chance to say more as Gia raised her hands in surrender.
“I know. That’s why I gave her my card and told her to call me if anyone else ever contacted her, for any reason.”
“She can call me!” I snapped. Then I looked at her. “Why didn’t you call me? You know I’m here for you, no matter what.”
Cassie read the subtext between us. I could see it in her eyes. She knew how awful I felt because I hadn’t been there before. Three years ago, I’d been too busy with my own stuff and had completely missed the fact that she’d had a problem…until I found her on the bathroom floor, an empty pill bottle beside her. That wasn’t going to happen again. But I couldn’t protect her if she didn’t tell me what was going on.
She stepped forward. “And I would if you didn’t completely freak out every time. I’m doing fine. Stop being such a worrier. Besides, Gia’s not the media, she’s the Bobcats’ publicist—”
