Page 56 of The Perfect Wrong

Here.

Delia comes sailing down the wide marble stairs about a minute later, and my eyes pop out of my fucking skull.

Gone is the sleek, conservative crap I’ve seen her dressed in before. She’s traded it for a short pomegranate-red dress, cut low in all the right places to show off skin.

Perfectly grabbable tits foaming out of her top like cream on a latte.

An ass crafted to fight over.

Honey-brown eyes so bright and nervous.

My dick throbs, begging for release in her tight, wet warmth.

For a split second, I don’t know whether to throw on the only suit I’ve got and take her out or just rip that shit off so I can fuck her right here in our parents’ entryway.

She lights up with a smile when she sees me staring too long.

If I was a robot, right now I’d be stuck on a blue screen error with steam shooting out my ears.

When she finally stops next to me, I can’t help it.

I reach out, grab her around the waist with a spin, and fling her against the wall.

“You said you want to talk?” I growl, breathing on her neck.

“Um, yes?”

“And you come down here looking likethat?Fuck. You’re not dressed for conversation. I think you know it, too, princess,” I rasp, slowly inhaling her, trying like hell to pull myself away from her hair.

She whimpers with surprise before I let up, and then she shimmies out from under me, an annoyed look on her face.

“Dude. I don’t even know what you mean. Would a hello kill you?” she asks.

I shrug.

“Would it? I’m giving you fair warning right now, Miss Delia—head games and cockteasesdo notjive with me. So unless you want to head upstairs and let me shred that dress into confetti, you’d better start talkingnow.That’s the only reason I’m still standing here and I’m not already in my room.”

She flushes cherry-red and holds up her hands.

“I’m not that kind of girl and you—you know we can’t.”

“Yeah?” I shoot her a dirty look. “If it’s so wrong, why can’t I peel my mind off it? And judging by the way you’re dressed, neither can you.”

She’s not entirely wrong.

I just wish I knew what she’s up to.

“Oh, please. I don’t just jump into bed with anyone. Definitely not you,” she insists.

Liar.

Devious, honey-eyed sex-on-a-stick liar.

“Whatever, sis. You want to talk? Maybe drop the paper good girl act first. I see right through it even easier than I see your tits through that thing.”

We stare each other down, silent for several seconds.

My eyes drop to her chest and soak in the view. I don’t even try to hide it.