Page 50 of The Way We Touch

He exhales a blast of air through his lips, shaking his head. “Oh, shit! Are you okay?”

“I am now, but I almost lost it trying to find the coconut oil. There wasn’t any in our bathroom upstairs or in the kitchen?—”

“Yeah, Craig took that tub we keep in the kitchen last week, and I carried the one from the upstairs bathroom down here.” He presses his lips together, not even questioning my presence in his best friend’s bedroom in only a towel and a T-shirt.

Everyone in my family knows the pain of capsaicin oil.

The door opens behind me, and I feel the heat of Logan’s body enter the room as distinctly as if he’d touched me. “Hey, man, your little sister was in here in a panic.”

“I can believe it! I’ve gotten that shit on my junk before, and I thought I was going to have to go to the hospital.”

“Apparently I had the coconut oil in my bathroom.”

“I searched the whole house.” I wave my hands, like it’s so bananas.

“Well, I’m glad everything’s okay.” Garrett stands at the door, waiting for me to return upstairs.

We all stand around for a solid two seconds before I huff a laugh and turn to give Logan a little wave. “Thanks again,” I say, not daring to meet his eyes for fear I’ll lose it.

“It was my pleasure.” The hint of a grin in his voice makes me spin away before I blush.

Even in a white undershirt and black boxers, he’s the hottest fucking thing—he might be even hotter. I can only assume he had those clothes with him in the bathroom.

“You didn’t do shit.” Garrett’s loud voice contains a laugh, and he has no idea what Logan did and how good it felt.

Still, he’s waiting for me at the door like a great big cock blocker. I guess he is a blocker on the field.

“Okay, then,” I say one more time, stepping into the hall and walking to the stairs like a child who’s been told they have to wait until Christmas morning to play with the gifts they’ve already found.

Garrett follows me, and when I get to the bottom of the stairs, I look over his shoulder to where Logan stands in the doorway watching me. I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing I am. Dammit.

“Night, sis.” My brother squeezes the top of my arm as I go into the upstairs bathroom.

Flicking on the light, I see my scuffed cheeks in the mirror. I gasp when I see the red marks on my neck, thankful the dim light in the hall apparently hid them from Garrett’s sleepy eyes.

My pussy clenches again remembering how they got there, and where else Logan’s beard marked me. Looking down, there’s no mistaking the pink marks on my inner thighs.

I remember his strong hands gripping my ass as I rode his face. I remember his strong arms wrapped around my waist as he kissed me on his lap. I remember my fingers wrapped around his cock, sliding up and down as he groaned in my ear.

If my brother hadn’t walked in when he did, we’d be fucking right now. I’d be boning my brother’s best friend like I told Craig I wouldn’t.

Yet, here I am.

“What am I doing?” I laugh, rolling my eyes.

It’s too late for that question, and I know it. I’ve drunk from the well, and there’s no going back. The cap is off the bottle. The milk is spilled, and I intend to ride this wave to the end.

Grabbing a washcloth, I quickly step into the shower to wash the arousal, the orgasm, the makeup, and the rest of the day off my skin.

11

Logan

Garrett stood there like some giant prison guard leading her away, and it was all I could do not to reach for her. I listened as they went upstairs and the doors closed. I heard the sound of the shower running.

Now I’m in my bed, thumbs flying.

I used to tell your bro he was the best blocker on Earth. He has no idea.