Chapter Nineteen
We spend the next couple of hours driving around. Rowdy takes me back to the candy store and I get more sour gummy worms since they ended up being my favorites. It was a lot of fun hanging out with my brother.
“Wild must’ve gone to see Talia or something. His truck’s not here,” Rowdy says as he shuts off the vehicle. “Want to come to the RV for a little while?”
A flash of heat ripples through me.
Being with him alone might be a bad idea. Every time, lately, things escalate to weird quickly.
“Yes,” I breathe, because apparently, I have no self-control.
Aunt Eve won’t like this.
Anger flares in my chest. He’s my brother. I refuse to let her past be a comparison to my brother’s and my relationship. We’re just close, is all. Besides, I’m dating Weston.
He slides out of the truck and moves aside for me.
Then he rustles around after I’m out to grab our bags full of loot for Scout.
The sound of Scout running grows distant as he races away, no doubt needing to pee.
I follow Rowdy’s crunching footsteps, using my cane to keep me from falling over anything.
Once inside the RV, Rowdy starts noisily opening, rummaging, and slamming drawers.
“Found it,” he says with a grunt. “Where’s the sweater?”
I locate it in one of the bags and toss it in his direction. He snaps off the packaging and tags and then I smell the familiar scent of a Sharpie marker.
“Are you writing on it?”
“Yup.”
“His name?”
“Nope.”
I arch a brow at him. “Are you going to tell me?”
Scout barks outside the RV door. I get up and make my way over to let him in. He bounds up the steps and then loudly drinks from a water bowl on the floor.
“Time to put your uniform on,” Rowdy tells Scout. “Come here, dude.”
Scout barks and then they spend the next couple of minutes wrestling to get his sweater on. Once it’s on, Scout comes to sit next to me. I reach down and feel it on him. A smile tugs at my lips.
“Is he so cute right now or what?”
“He’s something.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I coo to my dog. “You’re the cutest dog ever to live.”
Scout barks happily.
“What’s his sweater say?”
“Service Animal - Mind Your Business.”
I snort out a laugh. “You had to add that last part?”
“Necessary.”
“Want to listen to my audiobook?”
“I don’t know. Books are kind of boring.”
“What?” I demand, eyebrows furling together. “Are you crazy? You just haven’t read the right ones yet. This one is about a wolf shifter. You’d probably like that.”
“Fine, but can we listen in my room?”
“Bring the candy,” I instruct. “And Scout.”
Rowdy grumbles about having Scout in his bed, but he doesn’t outright say no.
A few minutes later, we’ve shucked off our shoes and are stretched out on his bed, listening to the audiobook.
Scout scoots around until his head is resting on my thigh where he can get plenty of scratches behind his ear.
Rowdy’s body, though not touching mine, burns with heat.
“I think I like this one best,” I say to Rowdy, turning my head and opening my mouth so he can see the half-chewed sour gummy worm. “What color is it?”
“Half green, half orange. The flavor is orange lime.”
I nod as I finish chewing and swallowing. The next one I try is different. “I like this one too. What color is this one?”
“Red and blue. Strawberry grape.”
“Ooh, this one is yummy. What’s this one?”
“Red and yellow. Cherry lemon.” His hands brush over mine as he takes the bag from me. “There are only three different variations. Which one is your favorite?”
“All of them.” I grin at him. “Do you like them?”
“Kind of grossed out seeing them half chewed.”
I cram a handful in my mouth and playfully chew them with my mouth open to taunt him.
“Don’t be disgusting,” he growls.
All my shifting around has Scout grunting and moving away. I roll toward Rowdy and open my mouth to show him my worms.
He covers his hand over my mouth. “Chew and swallow.”
I laugh but obey him. When I finish, instead of moving his hand away completely, it slides along my cheek to the side of my neck. The sudden change from us being silly to this has my heart pumping wildly. His touch feels too intimate, but I don’t hate it.
His thumb strokes over my jawline so reverently it makes my head spin. I reach up to touch his wrist, intending to pull him away because it makes me dizzy, but end up just holding on to him.
We’re both silent, but the roaring in my ears is so loud. This closeness feels wrong—like we shouldn’t be doing this—but I selfishly don’t want to end the moment. My body throbs with forbidden need.
He slides his thigh between mine and it settles against my pussy.
Memories of Jace, face buried between my thighs, try to steal away my happiness.
He was always so desperate to “get me off” but never could.
Rowdy moves his leg, rubbing against my pussy, and I let go of a sharp breath.
Pleasure zings from where he’s touching me through every nerve ending in my body.
Why isn’t he saying anything?
Why am I so quiet too?
It’s as if we’re both afraid to speak. Like we both want to pretend this touch isn’t inappropriate. I mean, we could chalk it up to just cuddling. Regular sister brother stuff.
Rowdy’s hand grips my neck like he’s claiming me. My heart hammers and butterflies flutter like crazy in my stomach. I part my lips, aching for more. Of what? I have no idea.
“Dez,” he hisses, voice filled with so much pain, it cuts me deep. “Why?”
Such a loaded question.
I don’t know why. I also don’t know why not.
He moves his thigh again and I gasp. It feels good. His touch isn’t innocent, and I can’t pretend it’s anything other than intentional.
I wish it were like the other night when we were both hardly dressed. I’d felt his cock against me, large and thick and pulsating. How good would it feel to have that rubbing against my pussy instead of his leg?
His breath tickles over my face. I close my eyes and pray he’ll press his lips to mine. The grip on my throat tightens, sending a thrill down my spine.
“I want…” He curses under his breath. “I want what I can’t have.”
I think I want that too.
Scout barks, flying off the bed and toward the door. As if we’ve been caught doing something awful and terrible, Rowdy and I scramble away from each other. I sit up and reach for my gummy worms, then cram more into my mouth.
“It’s me, psycho,” Wild says to Scout when he enters the RV. “Don’t eat me, fucker.”
Scout’s barks turn to happy yelps.
“Hey,” Rowdy calls out.
“What does your sweater say?” Wild asks Scout. “Stay still.” Then he bursts out laughing. “No fucking way. Mind your business.”
“What?” Rowdy demands, sliding out of the bed and walking toward the front of the RV. “People need to know.”
“Your,” Wild says, cackling. “You spelled it wrong.”
“Y-O-U-R-E. I put the apostrophe in there and everything.”
“Wrong!”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t whatever me. You always do them backward in text too. Who taught you to read? My mom?”
Rowdy must punch him because Wild grunts in pain. “Fuck off, Wild.”
I’m amused at their antics. Sliding off the bed, I make my way over to them, hoping I don’t look guilty for whatever that was between me and Rowdy.
What was it?
One thing’s for certain: it feels like fire when we have those moments. It’s unlike anything I’ve felt before. Jace tried to create fire when I was nothing but an icy tundra. Weston creates sparks, but the chill is still there.
Rowdy makes me burn.
This is bad. He’s my brother.
“I should get back to the cabin,” I say quickly. “I need to get up early tomorrow.”
I can feel Rowdy’s gaze burning into me. Despite wanting to throw myself into his arms, I manage to give him a wave instead.
The trek to the house is quick thanks to my cane and Scout, and soon I’m out of my coat and boots, sprawled out on top of the covers on my bed where I belong. I even call back Weston, hoping to distract myself with something normal. He’s funny and keeps me entertained.
“Something’s off,” Weston says after a good hour of chatting. “You’re distracted.”
Guilt swarms through me like a bunch of angry bees.
“What? No, just thinking about the training Scout will need. Sorry. I’ll do better.”
We talk another hour longer, but I feign sleepiness to get off the phone with him.
It’s then I get a weird feeling. Scout growls and hops off the bed. I hear his claws on the wood floors as he makes his way over to the window. Then he whines. I cock my head to the side, listening to see if the window opens, but nothing happens.
I’m definitely being watched, though.
And since Scout isn’t freaking out, it has to be Rowdy.
Why is he watching me? What is he expecting to see?
I pretend I don’t know he’s there and walk over to Scout to pet him. Then decide I’ll change into my pajamas now.
Yes.
Right now.
With my audience of one.
My heart thunders so hard my chest hurts. I’m shaking with nerves to do something so bold and wrong, but I’m buzzing with a high that has me aching to go through with it.
Just do it.
I unzip my jeans and shimmy out of them, revealing my bare legs to anyone who can see. After stepping out of them, I pull off my sweater. Goose bumps tickle over my flesh and my nipples are hard beneath the lace of my bra. I reach behind me and unhook my bra.
Am I really doing this? Stripping for my brother, who’s watching through the window?
It could be my imagination.
There might be no one there.
I pull away the bra and let it fall to the floor. Cool air kisses my breasts. They slightly jiggle as I walk over to the dresser. Then I fish out an oversized T-shirt and slowly pull it over my body.
Everything burns hot, especially my clit.
The urge to massage it is overwhelming.
There were times when Jace was close. Not usually with his tongue, but with his fingers, he could get me close. I never tried to recreate the zinging sensation. Now it’s all I want to do.
I slide into bed on top of the covers and let my thigh fall off to the side. Then, because I’m desperate to feel good, I slip my hand down to my panties. My fingertip barely brushes over my clit and I jolt.
Ohhh.
Gently at first, I rub at it through the material. It feels so good I have to bite on my bottom lip to keep from whimpering. I move my fingers faster, loving the delicious vibrations dancing through my body.
I bet it would feel better if my fingers were slick.
With cheeks burning hot with embarrassment, I pull my fingers away and bring them to my mouth. I suck on them and then slide them back to where I want them, this time beneath the material. My fingertip, wet from my saliva, rubs against my buzzing clit.
“Oh,” I breathe.
I quickly learn what speeds and pressures are the most pleasurable.
And, as if my body detonates, I explode with the most wonderful sensation I’ve ever felt in my life.
As my body shudders wildly and I stifle a moan, I can’t help but imagine Rowdy’s fingers or tongue doing the work.
This extends the pleasure even longer. I rub until my hand aches and I’m no longer thrashing in bliss.
I need to hear his voice.
To know this is real and not some cruel dream.
Fumbling for my phone on the end table, I snatch it up and demand that it call Rowdy.