More Than Possess You

Damn. Rose was her best friend for decades. “I’m so sorry, Gramma.”

Suddenly, my salty, tough-as-nails grandmother who’s outlived both a husband and a worthless son bursts into tears.

Quickly, I mute the call and stand. “Sorry. Charge dinner to the room. I need to talk to Liddy. She’s upset.” I glance Echo’s way. “I’ll be upstairs.”

Then, with a meaningful glare at Xavian, I leave.

Thirty minutes and a lot of shared memories later, I hang up, hopeful that my grandmother will bounce back to her spicy self soon, and splash some water on my face. I look like shit. I’m jet-lagged, my body thinks it’s three a.m., and I’m wondering where the hell X and Echo are. Can they really still be in the restaurant?

As I set the hand towel aside, the latch clicks and the door opens. I head in that direction. “Echo?”

When I round the corner, she looks gutted. Tears spill down her cheeks.

Seeing her hurt is a visceral pain.

“Shortcake, what is it? What’s happened?”

If Xavian touched her, I’ll kill him. No ifs, ands, or buts.

“You made sure Xavian couldn’t spend last night with me?”

X must have spilled. And she sounds crushed. “For your own good. He’s a player. I wanted to protect you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. I wanted to lose my virginity on my terms with someone who knew what he was doing and would make it all right.” More tears fall. “Why would you take that from me?”

Is she serious? “Because you deserve more. I know you want that.”

“And who’s going to give it to me?” She looks me up and down. “You?”

Since she’s slung her ugly cardigan carelessly over her arm again, flashing cleavage, it’s easier for me to imagine being her first than I’d like.

“Shortcake…”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not a little girl anymore. But you keep treating me like I am. You mean well, but I’m a woman.” She tosses her sweater on the nearby chair, storms across the room to me, and grabs my face in her hands. “Damn you.”

Then Echo stands on her tiptoes and yanks my mouth down to hers.

Her kiss is graceless and angry…but it’s impossible not to notice how soft her lips are and how perfectly they mold to mine.

Lightning zips down my spine as she opens her mouth and nudges my lips apart. I’m frozen and shocked beyond rational thought. Why else would I let her tongue in my mouth? And why else am I closing my eyes, grabbing her dress in my fists while my tongue surges inside, and kissing her like my life depends on it?

Then, holy shit…tingles. Everywhere. Head-to-toe. They spread through my body. Fire follows, razing across my skin and scorching my veins. And that something mysterious I smelled last Sunday at her place above the delectable scent of the French toast? That’s Echo. She fills my nostrils again. Her skin. Her body. She’s igniting my blood.

Son of a bitch. I’m harder than hard. What the hell is happening?

Your best friend is blowing your mind.

Suddenly, she wrenches free with a gasp, pressing a hand to her swollen mouth and staring at me in horror. “I’m sorry! I’m so… Oh, my god.”

Before I can stop her, Echo turns and runs out of our room, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter Three

I stand in the middle of our hotel room, blinking. What just happened?

Echo kissed me. Like a lover.

It blew away every notion I had about her. About us.

Heaving a breath, I stumble back to the bed and sink down. Now what do I do…especially about the fact I’m aching to kiss her again?

The better question is, what happens if you do…and you turn out exactly like your father? You’ll break her heart, and you won’t have a best friend anymore.

That can’t happen.

But she’s out there alone, probably confused. She kissed me to demonstrate how ridiculous the notion of us in bed together is…but instead she proved we have blow-the-top-off-my-head, make-my-cock-bust-out-my-zipper chemistry.

I said it before, but it bears repeating. Holy shit.

My first instinct is to charge after her. Then my brain kicks in. If I drag her back to our room now, I doubt there will be much talking. Before I see her, I have to cool down. I have to think without my body throbbing.

Sitting isn’t working. I stand. I pace. But no, my lips still burn. My heart pounds. My blood sears me as it races to my cock.

It would be easy to take her sweetness, but she wants things I can’t give her. Love. Devotion. Forever.

But Xavian wasn’t going to give her those things, either. He hasn’t suddenly decided he’s head-over-heels with her in the last week. So why did she choose him?

I need to know. And before I find Echo and figure out how we proceed given the fact I can still taste her lips against mine, I have to find out what X is really thinking.