Take Me Again (The Knight Brothers 1)

In fact, even now, as Ryder stood by the window in the small room, talking to Parker, his gaze drifted to Sierra. Sebastian glanced at his friend, eyebrow cocked until Ryder looked his way. Caught, he smirked and turned away.

Sebastian shook his head and glanced at his oblivious sister, who was talking to one of their father’s old friends.

Alexander had offered to cancel a planned cruise to the Mediterranean with wife number four, but Ethan had insisted he keep his plans. Nobody wanted the drama that came with Candy, the guilt and heavy sighs that would inevitably occur because she’d had to skip the trip she’d been dying to go on. And in truth, the man had sounded relieved.

Sebastian’s mouth was dry and he needed water. The pitcher next to Ethan was empty, and he picked up the silver holder and took it outside.

Sierra joined him, catching up with him by the water cooler near the front office. “I needed some air, too,” she said, fanning herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her brown hair with blonde highlights falling out of a bun and across her cheek.

“Anything wrong?” he asked. “Besides the obvious?” He gestured to their depressing surroundings, really wondering if the blush in her face had anything to do with Ryder’s lingering looks, but he didn’t want to mention the man and risk upsetting her.

She shook her head. “Funerals just aren’t easy, and I feel so bad for Ethan.”

He pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

She glanced up at him and nodded. “Best I can be.”

“I get that.” He filled the water pitcher, condensation dripping to the floor. “Ready to get back?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she nodded. “Let’s go.”

Together, they walked back into the sitting room and excused themselves, easing past a new crowd of people, making their way to where Ethan sat. As he reached his brother, Sebastian drew up short. A blonde woman stood beside Ethan, hand on his shoulder, head bent close to his as she whispered in his ear.

There was a closeness to their contact, and the longer Sebastian stared, the more he sensed something familiar about the female comforting his brother. Familiar but he couldn’t place her. Until she lifted her head and her gaze locked with his, sky-blue eyes opening wide in recognition.

Jesus fuck. What was she doing here?

He swallowed hard, his gaze skimming over her, taking her in. Her face had slimmed down over the years, her cheekbones more sculpted. Her beautiful features were still put together, so striking she took his breath away. And her lips were just as full and kissable – and he ought to know, finding it all too easy to conjure the taste of her in his mouth. When it came to her, his memory was crystal clear.

“It’s Ashley,” his sister said from beside him. “Oh my God, we haven’t seen her in years.”

“No, we haven’t.”

He curled his hands into tight fists, the sight of her stirring up recollections he’d never quite forgotten but wasn’t thrilled to have resurrected. What he’d done, what he hadn’t done… One of his not-so-finest moments. He couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about her over the years, he had, but the thoughts came with regrets.

His father had married her mother when he’d been eighteen, Ashley sixteen, and the attraction between her and Sebastian had been instantaneous. But even at his wildest, he’d known she was too young. Too vulnerable for him to desire with the depth of feeling that he had.

As he watched her with Ethan now, Sebastian realized she hadn’t just shown up out of nowhere. She and his brother were obviously close, which left him reeling with the knowledge of yet another secret kept from him.

At the sight of her, his mind went back to the past. She’d moved into his house along with her mother, another one of the women his father chose who wanted his money. Ashley had been adrift, alone. Often sad and lonely.

He’d taken to sitting up at night, talking to her. They’d gotten along, had a lot in common, both of them lacking real parental figures. But he hadn’t missed how she’d looked at him any more than he could have denied how his body had responded to her curves, the breasts beneath her tee shirts, braless, nipples poking through, and the sweet shape of her ass in her sweats.

His hands had itched to touch as much as his lips wanted to kiss. He’d hadn’t had much self-control in those days, and looking back, he’d been a powder keg—and it had only been a matter of time.

Six months into her living in the house, he’d gone out to a party and gotten drunk, coming home to find Ashley waiting up for him. She’d clearly been drinking herself, informing him she’d taken vodka from his father’s stash, refilling the bottle with water. Clever girl even then. When she’d walked up to him, pressed her supple body against him, kissing him with young abandon, he’d lost all good intentions.