“You can’t hear—”
“I know,” he snarled. “I fucking know what you’re doing, dammit; I can feel it. Just like I always know what you’re doing over there. Every fucking time you masturbate, I swear I can hear those breathy little moans you make, and if I hear it one more time, Eve—”
She disconnected the call.
Jumping from the bed, she grabbed her clothes and rushed into the bathroom, dressed, and hastily applied the necessary makeup before pulling her hair into a ponytail. Moving quickly back to her bedroom, she pulled on her sneakers, tied them jerkily, then rushed to the door.
She peeked out the door to the hall, saw no one, then hurried from the room before closing her door carefully behind her.
She was certain she had managed to escape.
She knew she had.
As she moved to pass Brogan’s door, it opened with a snap and his arm jerked out, gripping hers with fingers of iron and pulling her into his arms as he turned and lifted her, pressing her against the wall inside his room as he pushed the door closed, trapping her there with his more powerful body.
Before she had time to do more than gasp, his lips covered hers, bold, heated, hungry, and demanding. He took the kiss she’d been dreaming of and instilled an urgency she’d never imagined in the erotic daydreams she’d had.
She couldn’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, her fingers pushing into the strands of hair that grew long over his nape and clenching to hold him to her.
Her lips parted, feeling his tongue lick over them before he took a quick, hungry taste. Tilting his head, he slanted his lips over hers as the kiss became deeper, harder. Dazed desperation filled her, the need for more of him growing in her, clawing at her senses until she was shaking with the surging force of it.
“Fuck!” His head jerked back.
The gray-blue color of his eyes was more blue now, gleaming with hunger, with lust as he glared down at her, his expression accusing as they both fought to just breathe.
“What the fuck are you doing to me?” His head lowered, his lips brushing against hers again, then immediately returning to the deep, hungry kisses of moments before.
That was fine with her, because she couldn’t get enough of them.
The simple act of lips meeting should never explode through the senses and render self-control a thing of the past, she thought hazily. There should be some measure of control, right?
A hard knock at her bedroom door beside his had them jerking apart again.
The world was conspiring against her.
First his cell phone, now some moron at her bedroom door.
“Eve, are you there?”
Her eyes widened. Swallowing tightly, she jerked her gaze to Brogan’s, certain disaster whipping through her senses at the sound of her brother Dawg’s deep voice.
Brogan laid his finger against his lips, then, catching her hand, pulled her to his patio doors.
Opening one side, he stuck out his head, looked around, then pulled back.
“Go,” he ordered, the softly voiced command harsh as he stared down at her with naked lust. “Get the hell out of here before it’s too late. ”
She could hear Dawg knock again. His calling out her name a second time, his voice impatient, spurred her to do just as Brogan ordered.
Glancing back at him one last time, she rushed to the porch before turning away from her room and heading quickly to the front entrance. If Dawg was there, then her mother had opened the front doors.
Turning the corner to the main porch area, she saw she was right. The front doors were thrown open, the glass storm door revealing the hardwood entryway and the wide, curving staircase that led upstairs.
Stepping inside, she glanced to the entrance to the back rooms on the side of the foyer and watched as Dawg strode from the entryway.
“There you are,” he growled as he turned and moved quickly toward her. “I need to talk to you a minute. ”
“Anyone dying, dead, or in need of emergency care? For God’s sake, Dawg, it’s five o’clock in the morning. What could you possibly need?” she asked.