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A fucking liar.
Jordy, too. With his Wizard of Oz bullshit.
Lying was the one thing Breanna couldn’t tolerate in a person—especially one she considered a friend.
One day, many years from now, she might look back on all this and laugh, but ripping the ruined tights from her legs, Breanna was fuming. The audacity of that sonofabitch. If Sinjin thought he was getting into her pants ever again, he was sadly mistaken.
Sadly enough for her, too, considering he’d given her the most amazing orgasms of her life. A taste of what she wanted—no, what she needed—from a man.
Didn’t I tell you, Bree? Quit wasting your time with fumbly-bumbly, idiot fuckboys.
Yeah, Kayleigh, you did. You sure did.
Sinjin wasn’t fumbly-bumbly, though, dammit.
After taking a quick shower to wash off the dried-up havoc the asshole wreaked between her thighs, Breanna got dressed in the last clean pair of pajama pants she had. Praying the predicted dusting wouldn’t delay her expected delivery from FedEx, she figured becoming acquainted with the laundry room would be wise in the event it did.
Breanna left the ensuite, slipping a bralette over her head. Pushing her arms through, she slid the ultra-fine Merino over her breasts and looked up. “Jesus, Derek, you really need to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” He grinned, stalking his way toward her.
She turned around to adjust her breasts. “Sneaking in here.”
“I told you I was coming up to see you.” Wrapping his arms around her from behind, smooth fingertips brushed across her middle.
“Well, most people knock,” she said. Admonishing him, Breanna pushed at his hands. “It’s disturbing, quite frankly. I was naked and…”
“And I didn’t mind.” Derek turned her around.
“Oh, I just bet you didn’t.”
“I don’t think you did, either.” Holding onto her hips, his head dipped to her ear. “I’m not afraid to admit I liked what I saw, and I’d love to see more.”
“Derek, please, I…”
“And I’m not afraid to tell you, I want you, Breanna.” Lips skating along her neck, he whispered, “In my bed. We’d be so good together.”
Somehow, I don’t think so.
“You’re a little bit wicked, aren’t you?” Walking her backward, fingertips sinking into her ass, his plain brown eyes turned black. “I think you must be, because I can’t get you out of my head. You keep me up at night, Breanna. I think about you all the time, and I want you to think of me while I’m gone.”
Caged between his body and the wall, he smashed against her, the buckle of his belt digging into her skin. She shifted but pressed against the wall she couldn’t get away from it.
That fucking hurts. Get. Off. Me.
“Don’t resist, now, sweetheart.” His hand went to her throat. “Let me kiss you goodbye. If that storm hits Monday, I won’t be able to come back until the pass gets cleared.”
And closing her eyes, Breanna prayed for snow.
“I…” Trying to get a word in, her lips parted to speak.
But before she could, her face in his hands, Breanna felt Derek’s lips on hers.
…don’t want to kiss you.
His hand falling to her breast, he plundered his way inside her mouth with his tongue. Derek squeezed the small mound of flesh, rubbing her nipple with his thumb. With a mind of its own, her clit zinged awake, ready and waiting for his fingers to make their way between her legs. Noooo. Fuck. Why was her body betraying her like this? She didn’t want him. Her heart wasn’t on board, anyway, but it seemed like her vagina might have other ideas.
He pressed the erection trapped inside his plaid pants into her belly. Nope, this is so not going to happen. Her lungs ready to explode, gasping for air, Breanna turned her head to break off the kiss.
