She stands, dripping wet, clutching a towel. A towel. Tiny droplets of water trail down her body. I’m at war with myself. The need to rip the towel off her, throw her against the wall, and fuck her hard almost takes over.
Almost.
“Why would you answer the door in a towel?” She blinks at me as if my harsh tone has only now alerted her that she’s naked and wet.
“Oh. I… was in the shower, and Gia is on the pho—” She points behind her as her voice trails off.
Gritting my teeth, I watch the water trail down her flushed neck to her breasts, which are barely concealed by her black towel.
“Get dressed,” I snap, causing her to jump and the towel to slip. One juicy tit with a pink, hard nipple stares at me and I almost put my fist through the wall.
“Christ, Julianna.” I force myself to take a deep breath.
“Oh my God,” she groans, her face beet red.
My patience is now officially gone. My cock is so hard it’s painful, and my head is pounding. Still, scaring her will not help either one of us.
“Put some clothes on. You’re coming with me.” It’s an order, and for a moment she stands there staring at me, then nods. She spins around, giving me a prime view of her toned legs and perfect ass. I can hear Gia inside on the phone, arguing with what I assume is her mom.
Bringing the bottle of Jack to my lips, I pound it back, needing its poison to quench this madness that’s taken hold of me. I shouldn’t be here. This is wrong on so many levels. The first being I have zero control around this one. And that makes me dangerous.
“I’m ready for you.” Julianna rushes out of the bathroom wearing a dress that has to be Gia’s—it actually shows off her figure.
“I mean, not ready for you… I’m just read—” I hold up my hand to stop her mad rambling. The more she stumbles and stutters, the more I want her. Her awkwardness calls to me. I want to build her up, unleash the real Julianna.
She uses the wall for support, slips on a pair of white Converse tennis shoes, and straightens.
“Do I need anything?” Her face is still flushed, but at least she’s dry.
“No.” I reach for her.
She looks back at Gia. “I should tell her I’m leaving.” Her voice sounds breathy.
I take another deep breath and try to ignore that I’m acting like a fucking teenager—I’m thirty, for fuck’s sake.
“Gia,” I say. “I’m taking Julianna to learn how to shoot a gun.”
Gia either doesn’t hear or doesn’t care and continues arguing on the phone.
“Wait. What?” Julianna jerks her hand away and that scent of hers, magnified by the shower, is not making me happy. To be honest, nothing has put a smile on my face the last week, but looking at Julianna stare at me like I just asked her to eat dog shit is not improving it.
“I can’t shoot a gun. I’m a pacifist,” she declares, as if everyone is.
“You’re a what?”
“A pacifist.” She raises her chin, eyes defiant, and I can’t help but shake my head and crack a smile. Now she’s not tongue-tied or awkward? “It means I don’t believe in war. I believe in pea—”
“I know what it means,” I grumble, taking her hand as I march us down the stairs.
“Ryder, I’m serious—”
“Julianna, you’re gonna learn how to protect yourself, because all I see when I look at you is victim, not pacifist.”
“But—” She stops talking as we pass Ox fucking Zara on the pool table, his white ass like a flare. A bunch of brothers are watching or getting off on one of the bunnies as they watch. The smell of booze and weed already permeates the air. When I stop to hold the screen door open for her, Julianna almost barrels into my back.
“Oh my God.” She clings to me and I look down into her horrified eyes. Her perfect mouth forms a small O.
“What?” I arch a brow. “You want to watch Ox fuck her in the ass? I’m sure that’s what’s coming next.” It’s a shitty thing to say, when she’s clearly mortified. This kind of behavior is beneath me. But the way her eyes bugged out at seeing my brother fucking pissed me off.
I’m wound up too tight. Lack of sleep and jerking my cock while thinking about her rather than plunging into a wet pussy is to blame.
That stops now. I’ll teach her to shoot, then I’ll escort her back to Gia. Have a prospect send whoever isn’t taken up to my room, fuck, and sleep the rest of the day.
“I… I’m not like that. I haven’t even had—I mean…” Great, she’s back to the awkwardness. I stop at the bottom of the porch steps. A slew of Harleys are lined up outside. Last night’s fire pits are still smoldering. The sun is out, but the morning is still chilly.