Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

Henry eyes my tattoos with an appraising gaze. I’m not sure he approves, but I don’t particularly care. I pull the sleeves of my thermal shirt up so he can see the rest. He may as well get a full picture before he decides if I’m worthy of being with Emily or not. I’m a hard-working man who loves art, and I love this girl. That’s the only thing he needs to know.

“Thank you for the help,” I say. I let Emily pull me toward the elevator. She waves at Henry, and he waves back, blushing at her.

I lean against the wall in the elevator and cross one foot over the other. “Why don’t you want your father to know about me?”

She blushes. “I want him to know everything about you, dummy,” she says, then grins. “I just don’t want him to know you’re sleeping with me.”

“Sleeping?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at her. “I doubt we’re going to be doing much sleeping.”

The doors open and she steps out, pulling me behind her. She looks at me. “Would you be all right with meeting my parents?” she asks. “They’re still in town.”

I stop as she opens the door, reaching to tag the top of the doorframe as she walks into the apartment. “You want me to meet your parents?” I wasn’t certain she would want that.

She drops her keys on a table by the door, locks the deadbolt behind her, and then puts a security code in the keypad by the door. Her hair hangs down to cover part of her face, and I brush it back. “Em,” I say softly. “You want me to meet your parents?”

She heaves a sigh. I can feel it blow across my chin. “I want my parents to meet you. I’m just not sure if I want you to meet them.” She blows out a frustrated breath. “My dad can be a little…condescending. I’m afraid of what he’ll say to you.” She shakes her head. “That’s all.” She looks directly into my eyes. “It’s all about him. Not you.”

“So you don’t want me to meet them.” I let my hands drop to my sides.

“No,” she rushes to say. “I want you to meet them.”

“When?” I need to know.

She shrugs and grimaces. “Tomorrow?”

A grin tugs at the corners of my lips. “Really?”

She smiles. “Really.” She pats my shirt. “You’re wet. You should take this off.”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I reach back behind my head and pull my shirt off the way guys do. I don’t have anything on under it.

Emily freezes, staring at my chest. “Goodness, would you look at that.” She licks her lips.

“If you think these are nice,” I tease, gesturing to the tats that cover my chest and shoulders, “just wait until you see the one I put on my ass. It’s all yours.”

“You got a tat on your ass for me?” she asks.

I nod. “Want to see it?” I tease.

“Hell, yeah.”

Emily

Instead of taking off his pants so I can see his ass, Logan stalks toward me, his eyes narrowing as he sucks his lower lip between his teeth and bites down. His hands land firmly on each side of my head, and he leans close to my face, so close that I can feel his breath brush across my ear. He presses his lips to my forehead tenderly and takes a deep breath, his eyes closed.

I reach for him, exploring his naked chest with the tips of my fingers. But he groans and lifts my hands over my head, pinning them against the wall. “You’re trembling,” he says, threading his fingers through mine.

A big rush of breath escapes me, and he laughs.

“Why trembling, Em?” he asks softly. He bends his head and leans down. His teeth catch the top button of my shirt and gently tug it free of its buttonhole. My shirt gapes open, exposing the lacy edge of my bra. His teeth work their way down my shirt until it’s hanging open all the way down, and I suck in my stomach as he dips his tongue into my belly button. He looks up at me and grins. “Why trembling?” he asks again.

“Because you’re here,” I admit. I lay my head back against the wall, and my hands still pinned above my head, although he moves one hand closer to the other and takes my wrists in one his palms. He dips the forefinger of his free hand into the cup of my bra and tugs it down, my breast suddenly free and pushed high with the help of my bra cup gathered beneath it. My nipple beads in the cool air, and he licks his lips.

“Please,” I breathe, arching my back toward him. But he doesn’t tongue my nipple. I’m not even sure he knows how much I need for him to touch me.

With a quick tug, he unbuttons my jeans, and my zipper tracks slowly southward, the tines loud, our breathing and my heartbeat the only sounds in the room until the click, click, click begins.

Logan has always been able to play me like I play my guitar, and that hasn’t changed. He keeps taking me higher and higher, until I get frustrated and take over.

“Em,” he says as I position myself on top of him. He tips my chin up. “Do we need a condom?”

Oh God. He would think of that. He’s just that good. “We didn’t use one last time,” I remind him. Or the time before that.

“You said we were okay those times,” he reminds me. “Are we okay now?”

“I can’t think when you do that,” I tell him, trying to count the days. My period just ended a few days ago, but then I remember that I’m on the pill. My mom took me to the doctor as soon as I went home. I don’t want to think about my mom right now. I tap his shoulders and bounce in his lap. “We’re okay,” I say.