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He stands at the end of the bed, basked in the moonlight streaming in from the sliding door, a predatory gleam in his gaze. It’s so unlike him, so vastly different to the relaxed Kellan the rest of the world sees, and my body heats thinking it’smehe looks at like that, like he can’t get enough, like he’ll combust if he doesn’t have me.
He leans over me, crawling over my body, a wicked gleam in his eyes, and it’s a struggle not to profess my love for him right then and there. Instead, I settle for bunching his white T-shirt in my hands and lifting it over his head, leaving him gloriously shirtless. It lands somewhere on the floor, and my shirt and shorts soon join it. His eyes trace my body, clad in nothing but my bikini, something he’s seen hundreds of times over the years and every day of this trip, but still he drinks me in like it’s the first time. I shiver when his finger delicately traces the hollow at my throat, down my sternum and between my breasts.
His eyes are on mine when he says, “You are so fucking beautiful.”
I can’t take it anymore, being so close but so far from him.
My fingers tighten in his hair and tug him down to me, drawing his lips to mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to eliminate all that space between us until I can’t focus on anything except his skin against mine. My heart is pounding so loud in my ears it’s like the sound fills the entire room.
Kellan pulls away from me, his lips hovering a fraction of an inch from mine as we catch our breath. “Is that Lori?” he asks, and I’m too confused to process his words.
“Lori?”
A pounding resounds through the room, and I realize it wasn’t my heart earlier, but someone at the door.
“That can’t be Lori,” I say as Kellan sits up, “she knows we’re in here.”
There’s another knock on the door, and all the blood drains from my body when a voice calls out, “Faye! Open up.”
In my haste to get up, I practically shove Kellan off the bed.
“Shit!” I hiss, throwing my shorts and shirt on as fast as humanly possible. Kellan’s sprawled on his side on the bed, and I toss his shirt at him as he stands.
“Why is Adam here?” Kellan asks, his voice low as he slips on his shirt.
The knocking stops, but I doubt my brother gave up. Does he know Kellan’s here? Is he aware of what’s going on between us? My heart’s pounding just as hard as before but for a totally different reason. Dread creeps up my spine.
“Hide!” I order Kellan as Adam calls out, “I know you’re in there, Faye.”
Shit shit shit.
Kellan looks around the hotel room dramatically. “Really?
Where, Faye? Maybe we should tell hi—”
“The bathroom!” I interrupt him, grabbing his hand and rushing him to the only available hiding place. It’s way too close to the front door for comfort, but there’s no other option. For some reason Adam’s intent on getting into this room, and I’ll be damned if he finds me with his best friend with our pants around our ankles. I won’t be able to face his anger, his disappointment, his betrayal, his validation for hating me more than he already does. No. This is our only option.
“Faye . . .” Kellan protests, and I pause. He scans my face and must see the sheer desperation there, because he relents and steps into the small bathroom, drawing an imaginary zipper over his lips and giving me a wink. His playfulness calms my nerves somewhat, and I mouththank youat him before I shut him in the bathroom. With Kellan concealed, I take a moment to compose myself and straighten out my hair. I try to calm the wildness of my pulse as I pull open the door, but the sight that meets me freezes the blood in my veins.
There, on my doorstep in the middle of the hallway for all to see, is my brother, his hands gripping Lori’s waist, her arms thrown around his shoulders.
And they’re kissing.
SIXTEEN
Night Four of Cuba
Lori
Faye disappears as soon as she pushes me into Dean, and I’m too busy being embarrassed to seethe over her antics.
“Sorry about that,” I say, my waist still tingling from the memory of his hands when he prevented me from falling over.
“That’s just . . . Faye.”
He sends me a good-natured smile. “Yeah, I’m getting how Faye operates.”
I haven’t seen him since last night, and my memory hasn’t done him justice. He looks devilishly handsome with his sharp jawline and his ruffled wet hair. A memory surfaces of Faye pressed up against him last night, but I push it away just as fast.
