“Ronnie,” he murmured as he kissed a tender path along my jaw to my ear. “I want you.” He bit down on my ear lobe before sucking it into his mouth.
Damn. He’s hot. Blazing hot. Literally. My temperature had skyrocketed in a matter of seconds. My lips were tingling, my heart was racing. My skin… My eyes popped open. Itching?Oh no. I bucked up and slid my ass right to the ground. Jumping up, I frantically, scratched my neck. Then, my arms. And my legs. Oh, and my stomach. I lifted up my shirt.Hives.
Juke stood, concern in his brown eyes. “Ronnie, are you okay?”
I blinked.Oh shit. Clapping a hand over my mouth.Please no. I prayed my lips wouldn’t swell up because I was having an allergic reaction to something. Was it him?Please don’t let me be allergic to him!I need an orgasm. Stat.
He stepped forward.
I held my hands out to stop him. “Don’t move.”
“Ronnie, what’s wrong?”
Maybe I’m panicking for no reason. I took a few calming breaths. Nope, I’m still itchy and hot and…Dammit.
“I get it. It was too fast.” He backed up—all the way to the other side of the couch. “You’re not ready? I understand.”
I shook my head rapidly. “It’s not you.” I refused to move my hand from my mouth. “But… What was in that drink?”
He frowned. “Apples, cinnamon, cloves… And strawberries.”
My eyes widened. “Strawberries? Oh no. I’m allergic.”
The first time I’d eaten a strawberry, I was three-years old. My mom told me she had to rush me to the hospital because my entire face swelled up. The second time, I was thirteen. I’d decided to test the waters again because I wanted to eat the chocolate-covered strawberries my friend’s mother had sent to our class for her birthday. I found out the hard way that strawberries...Are.Not.For.Me. And I learned that lesson after my entire class made up a new nickname for me.Mrs. Potato Head.
After that day, I vowed to never eat anything strawberry again. I didn’t even use strawberry flavored lip gloss or burn strawberry scented candles. Oh, and raspberries? Too much like those devil strawberries. And I’d been careful about putting new things in my mouth. Until now. Until Juke had slipped me some of his cider.
Despite that hot ass kiss, this birthday officially sucked. I had to get the hell out of there before he saw my version of Mrs. Potato Head live and in full color. “I have to go. Good kiss. Thank you.”
Then, I raced out of the sunroom.
“Ronnie?”
Shit, he’s following me.
“Let me help you. I’ll get you some Benadryl.”
“No!” I yelled, now moving at a fast clip down the long hallway toward the bathroom. “Send Brooklyn. Please.”
He caught up to me quickly. “I’m sorry, Ronnie. I didn’t know you were allergic.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”Don’t look at him. I kept my eyes straight ahead. “Brooklyn. Can you find her?”
Parker rounded the corner at that moment. He frowned, eyeing Juke suspiciously. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” I assured him.
“She’s allergic to strawberries,” Juke said. “I use them in my cider.”
My big brother rushed over to me. “Need anything?”
“Brook. Lynn.” I grumbled. Once I reached the bathroom, I opened the door. “Now.” Before they could say anything else, I slammed the door, effectively shutting them both out.Oh, God, make it stop!
Chapter Four
Suffering Bastard
JUKE
