by Liz Fox
I pause and take a sip of beer, trying not to think about the last fire. It was pretty bad. There are times I can’t help going to a dark place in my mind. Especially in the middle of night. I’m doing my best to deal with it, but it’s taking longer than I thought it would. Which is why I’m taking a break from the hotshot crew and taking it a bit easier here in Sugar Hill.
“What did you do the other six months?” Violet asks. Her voice is deeper than I remember. It sounds smooth and cool like silk—appealing to someone like me, a man who has spent a lot of time getting burned.
“Mostly, I kept traveling. It’s pretty easy to find a seasonal job during the winter months, especially if you don’t mind living cheap. I spent a couple winters skiing in Jackson Hole and a couple on the beach in California.”
“You didn’t think to come home?” Violet blinks her big brown eyes at me and suddenly, I wonder why I stayed away so long.
“Yeah, man. Your parents missed you. I swear, they invited me to dinner every week that first year just to have a familiar face at the table.”
I had no idea. Nobody ever told me they missed me that much. “I never thought about it. Too busy having a good time.” Now, I’m back but still not living with them. After the accident, I didn’t want to worry them when I had a bad moment. That’s why I reached out to Rocky in the first place. Oh, I gave him some bullshit excuse about living closer to work, but really I wanted to give myself time.
I didn’t expect my new living arrangements to include temptation-in-a-towel staying just a room away. The dark, hurting part of me wants to keep her. But that’s wrong for so many reasons. My inner demons will consume both of us. Not to mention, the reason that’s sitting next to me on the couch, my best friend.
“Speaking of parents, Grant, I wondered if you could do me a favor,” Rocky says, drawing my attention back to him. “The monthly Blair family dinner is this week and I’ve got a shift. Would you mind driving Violet back to Fairview? My parents told me to invite you, but I forgot to mention it until now.”
“That’s not necessary,” Violet says. “I can drive myself.”
Is it just me or does Violet sound a little defensive? Something about her resistance makes me want to push a little harder. Tease her like she’s been teasing me by sitting here with her long hair, smooth skin, and irresistible curves. I shouldn’t be the only one suffering.
“I’d be happy to take her.” Take her on the coffee table, take her in the kitchen, my bedroom, her bedroom, and anywhere else.
She glares at me and I grin back. Even though I know I shouldn’t—especially with Rocky right here—I wink at her. Violet was always fun to rile up, even as a kid, but now it’s like her blushes bring me back to life, each one a glass of water for the parched desert of my soul.
Her face is warm. Maybe that’s why she takes a long, slow sip from her bottle of beer. Her full lips curving around the tip of the bottle. Delicate fingers gripping the cylindrical thickness. Blazing brown eyes looking straight into mine, daring me not to wait. To take her right now.
And I want to.
Whatever she’s asking, I’m ready for it. My cock feels like a goddamn third leg. Surreptitiously, I move a throw pillow onto my lap. Don’t want Rocky getting the wrong idea, even though every cell in my body is trying to tell me how right it is.
It’s too much. Coping with the accident. Starting a new job. Moving in with my best friend and then lusting after his little sister.
“I’m going to head to bed.” Violet watches as I make my way across the room.
“So early?” Her sassy tone pours fuel on the coals of desire in side me.
“I have something to take care of before I crash for the night.”
“Need some help?” She’s asking for it, I can’t do anything about it. Rocky is right there watching our banter with a look of curious confusion on his face.
“Maybe next time.” I leave the room. If I’m going to get any sleep tonight, I need to take care of this raging hard-on. The idea of having Violet’s help the next time making it even harder.
Chapter 5
Violet
It’s impossible to sleep knowing Grant is in the room next to mine, just a wall away. My mind is full of visions of him lying on silky sheets in boxer briefs, or even better, naked. Not like my cotton tank top and short combo.
I squirm on the bed, rubbing my thighs together, trying to generate some friction. Normally, I’d just take care of the issue by hand, but I’m not sure how thin the walls are.
Screw it. If I can’t make my own relief, I’ll have to read about someone else getting some.
Grabbing my tablet, I climb out of bed and put my slippers on. The hardwood floors in the living room are nice, but they get chilly at night. A minute later, I’m happily ensconced among the throw pillows on the sofa, Tarzan curled into a sleeping circle on my lap.
I open up my reading app and pull up my favorite short story author, C.L. Cruz. I’m not looking for something long and heavy tonight. Just a little something to pleasantly distract me until I can fall asleep, and she has a new story out about a girl who is a tomboy that I’ve been dying to read.
The main character reminds me a bit of Grant when I knew him before. A bit more outgoing and flirtatious. Grant was always a bad boy, but now he’s a little darker. There’s a pain in his troubled blue eyes that didn’t used to be there. He still makes me cream my panties with his very existence, but the changes in him make me wonder what happened while he was gone.
I settle back into the book, remembering my intention to not spend the night thinking of Grant. The story doesn’t exactly help. After reading a particularly steamy scene in the story, I can’t help imagining Grant and me doing it on the island in the kitchen. His strong body moving between my thighs. His thick length filling me. Phew. Is it hot in here? I try to fan myself with my tablet, but it isn’t helping.
A noise in the hallway catches my attention. I don’t have the lights on, using the tablet for light. Grant doesn’t see me cocooned on the couch in the darkened living room. But I see him.
Something is wrong. I could probably identify Grant from fifty feet away with his back turned to me by his body and posture alone. As he walks into the kitchen, he almost looks like a different man. There’s a tired slump to his shoulders that I’ve never seen before. The pain he’s been hiding is evident in the dark of the night when he doesn’t know anyone is watching.
The urge to soothe him compels me to upset Tarzan, leave my nest of pillows, and follow Grant into the kitchen. He leans over the sink, both hands braced on the counter with his head hanging down. His back is bare, exposing intricate tattoos over powerful muscles. My fingertips tingle, desperate to trace the dark lines and smooth skin.
Unwittingly, I take a shuffling step toward him. His head turns in my direction at the sound of my slippers on the linoleum.
“What do you want, Violet?”
I halt at the venom in his voice. “I saw you walk by me in the living room, and thought—”
“What did you think?” He cuts me off.
I don’t know how to respond to this aggressive version of my high school crush. He seems angry or maybe hurt. If I could see him better, more than just his shadowy form in the darkness, I’d know what to do.
I’m about to flip the light switch when his hand covers mine, keeping us both in the dark. I never saw him move. A moment ago, he stood halfway across the kitchen. Now, his body heats the air just inches away from mine.
“You wanted to help me, Violet? Is that what you thought?” His breathy whisper rustles the tendrils of hair at my ears.
Grant stands over me, so close the tips of my breasts barely touch the firm muscles of his torso, the light friction causing them to tighten. Barely breathing, I struggle not to move, completely unsure about what’s happening.
“Do you have nightmares? Painful memories that torture you every time you close your eyes?” He runs a finger down my bare arm, goosebumps follo
wing in its wake.
Unable to speak, I shake my head.
“No, you don’t.” His whisper turns hard, like an open window slamming shut. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t know what keeps me up at night. You’re just my best friend’s younger sister. A little girl who—as far as I can tell—spends her life reading books instead of going out and actually experiencing life.”
A tiny spark of indignation flares up. He doesn’t know me. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. I’m not just a baby sister anymore. I’m a grown ass woman who has a life he knows nothing about. He’s only been back one day, and he thinks he knows who I am and what I’m capable of. We’ll see about that.
“You’re right. I don’t know what you’ve been through.” I keep my eyes wide and innocent as I return his caress, running my finger softly down one of his arms.
His breath shudders in reaction to my touch. Satisfaction flares through me at his physical response.
“But I do know what keeps this ‘little girl’ up at night...” I lean forward, forcing my breasts to flatten against his chest as I bring my lips closer to his. “And it isn’t nightmares,” I whisper.
I can feel his muscles tighten until they’re like a wall of warm steel. Smirking in gratification, I go to step away from Grant. But before I can move, his body forces me backward until I’m smashed between him and the wall. His hands clamp onto my wrists, pulling my arms over my head. He locks me in place with his hips, a heavy bulge pressing into my stomach.
“You’re playing with fire, little B. You sure you want to do that?”
I roll my curves against him in response.
“Fuck. You asked for it.” Without wasting another moment, Grant’s lips land on mine.
I’ve been waiting for this moment for most of my life, and it’s even better than I imagined. The dichotomy of stimulation overwhelms my senses. The smoothness of his lips versus the light scratching of his stubble. The firm grip of his hands versus the sweeping invasion of his tongue. The power of his body versus the subtle scent of masculinity and spice.
I’ve been waiting for this for years. I won’t allow myself to be a passive participant. With my hands locked above my head, I may not be able to touch him, but that’s okay. I nip at his lips, then soothe the sting with my tongue. My body undulates against his, rubbing my tight, swollen nipples against his solid chest. Every inch of my skin tingles with pleasure and anticipation.
My willingness doesn’t go unnoticed. Grant attacks my mouth with violent fervor. His hips rhythmically thrust against me.
“Goddamn, you’re like fire. The only bright spot in a dark world.” He releases my wrists, but only so he can grab handfuls of my ass. He lifts me against the wall so my core lines up with his thick length. Only two thin layers of fabric separate us. He grinds his hard cock into my moist heat, while I run my hands through his thick, tousled hair. “You feel so good, Violet. I need more. I need you.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say yes when I hear a door open and shut down the hallway. Grant freezes and I look at him with wide eyes. Within half a second, Grant stands by the kitchen sink filling a glass with water. I run my hand over my hair, trying to hide any evidence of our kisses.
After a minute, no one appears and I breathe a sigh of relief. It must have been Rocky going to the bathroom. I’m not ashamed of what just happened with Grant, but I have no desire for my brother to find me flushed and ready with his best friend.
Before I get too relaxed, Grant’s soft voice cuts through the air. “That should never have happened.” His gaze is hooded and hard, determination evident in the square set of his posture.
Hurt splinters through me, but I refuse to let him see it. “Didn’t you like it?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That doesn’t matter. It was a mistake. You’re my best friend’s little sister. I would never betray him like that.”
Conflicting emotions race through me. Part of me wants to jump on him and finish what we started. The other part of me wants to smack him upside the head. Only one part of me feels absolutely certain—like fuck am I going to let him have the last word.
Thrusting my own shoulders back, I head back to my bedroom. I pause in the doorway of the kitchen on my way out, toss my hair and look at him over my shoulder.
“You’re right. It wasn’t even that good. Definitely not worth repeating.”
With that, I leave him standing alone in the dark shadows of the kitchen.
Chapter 6
Grant
It’s been a few nights since my encounter with Violet in the kitchen. Fortunately, our schedules haven’t lined up since, and I’ve been able to avoid running into her again. Unfortunately, it’s time for us to drive to Fairview together for the family dinner. Rocky asked me to drive her. There’s no reason for me to back out now, not without raising suspicion.
“I’m ready.” Violet climbs into the passenger seat of my truck, slips her earbuds in, and opens up her tablet. I guess it’s going to be a quiet ride.
I start the engine and begin the trip. Cursing inwardly, I realize part of me feels a little disappointed about the lack of interaction. There’s something about Violet that infuriates and inflames me, and I’m someone that loves fire.
Forty minutes later, her parents welcome us into the backyard with engulfing hugs. Mr. and Mrs. Blair have always been some of my favorite people. Good parents and decent human beings, plus Mrs. Blair makes a mean bread pudding.
“Grant! Surprise!” A crowd of familiar people rush me—my mom, dad, and two younger siblings, Abby and Brandon. It isn’t until Violet touches my forearm that I realize how tense I am. There’s a reason I decided to stay with Rocky instead of my family. I love them and they love me. That’s why I didn’t want to worry them with my nighttime struggles.
At least ten minutes of greetings and hugs continue before we make our way to the backyard where the Blairs have set up a barbeque. People spread out to continue catching up, grabbing seats and drinks. Violet stands in a group that includes her dad, some guy that I think is a neighbor, Damian or Derrick or some other completely douche name. He’s tall, handsome, and clean cut.
And if he keeps smiling at her like that, I’m going to rearrange his face.
I end up sitting in a lawn chair next to my brother, while Abby brings us some bottles of beer. The shock of that is enough to rip my attention away from Violet and her admirer.
“Aren’t you too young to drink?” My voice is full of brotherly consternation.
“I’ve been twenty-one for eight months.” No one can roll her eyes like Abby. She hands a beer to Brandon and takes the seat next to me. “Just because you left for five years doesn’t mean I stopped growing up.”
“Guess what big bro? I even have a boyfriend.” Abby leans forward and gestures for me to come closer so she can whisper in my ear, “And he’s older than you.”
My head whips around to glare at her, but she’s already leaning back in her chair, taking a long sip of beer.
“I heard you’re living with Violet.” Abby deftly changes the subject and redirects my attention. “You know, she always had a crush on you.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, stunned.
“Duh.”
Brandon, who never talks much but is constantly observing, nods his head in agreement.
Abby side-eyes me, presumably watching my reaction. “I’m sure she’s over it now. I mean, you’ve been gone for five years? I’m not the only one who grew up while you were gone.
“Derrick seems to appreciate how well she’s grown up too, don’t you think?” I swear, Abby knows exactly what she’s doing with these taunts. Even knowing she’s purposely pushing my buttons doesn’t stop my temper from flaring.
I know I shouldn’t, but the rest of the evening I watch Violet like a hawk. Every time Derrick the Douche puts his hand on her shoulder or refills her glass of wine, my jaw clenches a little tighter. It doesn’t matter that I don’t have any right to her. Even
if she wasn’t my best friend’s little sister, I still wouldn’t have any claim on her. She isn’t my girl. She isn’t even my date. She’s completely off-limits, and that fact makes me want to rip her pretty-boy neighbor to shreds.
It's nearly nine o'clock at night when dinner is finally over and and everyone has said their goodbyes. I feel like a caveman claiming my woman as I keep my hand on Violet’s lower back while I guide her to my truck. With my hands around her waist, I lift her into the passenger seat. I close her door and make my way around the front of the truck. The douche glares at me from the front lawn, and I give him a wink in return. She’s mine now, asshole.
We’re five minutes into the return drive before she finally speaks to me. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut because everything I want to say sounds inappropriately possessive, even to me.
“Did you have a good time?”
“It was nice to see my family,” I reply.
“Abby told me she has a new boyfriend, but she didn’t say much about him. Did she tell you anything?”
“He’s too damn old for her.”
The sound of Violet’s light laughter fills the cab. My cock throbs in response. “Good for her. Maybe an older man will appreciate her the way she deserves.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that sometimes younger guys don’t appreciate what they have or what’s right in front of them.”
“Am I a younger guy?”
“Well, you are certainly lacking a certain maturity and willingness to take responsibility.”
She’s referring to that night. The night we made out in the kitchen. The night I’ve been jacking off to three times a day since then. I know it. Even thinking about it now—her lush curves pressed against me—has my dick hard as a fucking rock.
“Are you saying I don’t appreciate you, Violet?” I could set a limbo dance record with how low my voice is.
