Chapter 2
SAM
I’m drunk as shit.
Duke’s little sister’s fine ass is feeding me cake. Is life really even that bad? Not right now, it’s not.
Dollface is looking tastier than she ever has—not that she’s ever looked bad.
I’ve called her sis for as long as I can remember to remind myself that she’s my best friend’s little sister and solidly off-limits.
Keeping my eyes off of her completely has also been helpful in eliminating her as an option.
Both tactics have worked for almost eleven years now, but I woke up at three a.m. this morning in a cold sweat, suffocating in a pit of grief and memories.
I think I’ve been guzzling bourbon ever since.
Her walking through the door with those obsessive gray eyes, thick black hair, wearing a tiny sundress, isn’t exactly a recipe for successful avoidance.
She’s wanted you for a long time. What’s one little kiss gonna hurt?
It’s an unspoken rule that fucking your best friend’s little sister is a friendship-fracturing offense.
Duke is the type to hold a grudge for all of eternity—after beating my face until it’s black and blue.
His older brothers—Holden, Cash, and Sterling—would surely take a turn, too, leaving me in a bloody heap to die on my ranch.
Duke is my best friend. I would never betray his trust. Loyalty is one of my few good qualities.
Now that I think about it, getting my ass beat again might feel better than the soul-sucking depression I’ve been wallowing in for days. I’d be lucky if the abuse stopped with Duke’s fists. Sleeping with a girl with four burly, tough-as-shit brothers is a suicide mission.
But my ability to give a fuck has waned to a hair-sized sliver.
Losing my last living family member, the man who raised me as a son, has had a strange, no-fucks-given effect on me. I want to be alone. I never want to feel this pain again. I never want to love someone that much again.
“I didn’t know women could taste better than cake,” she breathes.
The remnants of cinnamon sugar on my tongue are a stark contrast to the bourbon as I lift the bottle to my lips.
“I’d have to get a better sample to be sure.”
I don’t clarify which taste I want more of, and watching her mind whirl through the possibilities makes my chest tighten.
Duke is going to break every bone in your body before he fucking murders you. And his brothers will help bury your corpse on that big-ass ranch, where it’ll never be found.
Dolly has begged me to fuck her with her eyes for as long as I can remember, but I don’t think even her explicit, enthusiastic consent would be enough to keep the Redford brothers from effectively mutilating my ass. They believe no man will ever be good enough for Dolly Mae Redford.
I wholeheartedly agree.
Hence, every single time she’s entered my general vicinity since we were kids, I avert my eyes and redirect my thoughts. Duke is usually present, which makes it easier and keeps the ass-kicking threat front and center.
Right now, Duke isn’t here, I’m fucking drunk, and this woman’s skin is looking softer than a freshly tanned leather hide.
I’ve never been so horny in my life. Death has had a strange effect on me.
It makes me want to create life, to feel alive.
I’ve felt empty, miserable, bereft, and numb for days now.
I don’t even know how long it’s been since the funeral.
Duke insists on coming to see me, despite me telling him that I don’t want anyone around.
Dolly’s sultry rosebud-pink lips and gray eyes shining with desire aren’t helping the situation growing between my legs.
She’s still holding the cake, the other hand elevated, her fingers shining with my saliva.
I’m still tracing my fingers over the back of her legs.
I pull her toward me, making her knees bend and forcing her to lean into my chair.
She doesn’t fully fall into my lap, but now her breasts are directly in line with my vision.
She smells like cinnamon with a hint of wildflowers. My mouth waters. I take the cake from her before pulling her all the way down onto my lap. She gasps, planting both her hands on my body, one on my shoulder and the other on my bicep.
Bad idea. Dangerous, suicidal, idiotic idea.
Fucking best idea I’ve ever had.
Her scent wafts around me, and I can’t tell where the coffee cake ends and Dolly starts. She’s bound to feel my erection now, but all that thought does is make it grow.
“You want a bite?” I ask. My voice sounds foreign to me.
She tenderly traces her fingers over my shoulder, licking her bottom lip. She nods, thick lashes brushing her flushed cheeks.
How have I resisted her all these years? She’s intoxicatingly drop-dead gorgeous.
Because up until now, you valued your life.
My dick is definitely poking her ass, and her cheeks grow pinker with each passing moment.
“Just ignore that,” I say, winking at her.
She visibly swallows, her eyes moving down to stare at my lips.
“Fuck.” I lick my lips and reach for a chunk of the coffee cake. “You deserve another award for this cake.”
I pull off a generous piece and hold it up to her lips. “Be a good girl and open up.”
She obeys, lips parting for me. I groan, wishing I were putting something else in her mouth right now. She bites down, chewing slowly.
“Mmm.” She lets out a soft moan. Her wet tongue darts out to softly brush across the pad of my fingertips.
Blood rushes down to my groin, my thoughts spiraling to dark places with it.
I need that mouth somewhere else.
I set the cake down on the side table, littered with empty cups and paper plates. I take another bite, the mix of cinnamon and bourbon the best thing I’ve ever tasted. My free hand reaches out to wrap around her mid-thigh, right near the hem of her sundress.
She intakes a sharp breath, her body tensing. I have no idea what kind of experience she has. Her brothers scare off everyone, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t done things behind their backs. Her fingers dig into my shoulder, drawing a deep groan from the back of my throat.
“Fuck.” I close my eyes, leaning closer to brush my lips against the base of her neck.
My hand curls around her throat gently before I grip tighter, pulling her toward me.
“Does your brother know you’re here?” My voice is a low growl against her soft skin.
Her body goes rigid, but she shakes her head. Her pulse jumps under my thumb. I’m hard as a rock now, my erection pressing into her ass cheek. I don’t want to stop now that I’ve started touching her.
I tilt my head up so that we’re eye level, reaching the hand that isn’t wrapped around her throat up to brush her hair back from her face.
“You’re playing with fire, Dollface.”
A car door slamming outside makes us jerk apart. Dolly scrambles off of my lap, nearly crushing my balls in the process. I groan, bending forward as my head swims from the pain.
She’s gasping for breath like she’s about to have a panic attack. Thankfully, the pain in my nuts causes my erection to subside faster than normal. I heave out an exhale before sitting up straighter.
“Oh my gosh, it’s Duke.” She scurries back toward me, eyes wide. “Where should I hide?”
“Hide? Why would you hide?” I take a swig of the bourbon, feeling my stomach roil from the pain still reverberating up from my balls.
She grabs the cake and spins around, looking for somewhere to go.
“Just take the cake into the kitchen,” I suggest.
She nods, bolting in the direction of the kitchen.
Right as the front door begins to swing open, she runs straight into the wall.
Cinnamon cake explodes around her, decorating the wall and floor.
I jump up from my chair, rushing over. My dick is still half-mast but going down quickly, so I turn to face the wall.
“What the hell?” Duke exclaims from the foyer.
I get to her first, gripping her elbow to help her stand. Her cheeks are bright red. Cake is mushed into her dress and coating the front of her cleavage.
Now it looks ten times more delicious.
Do not get another erection.
“What happened? How did you not see that wall?” Duke scolds her, tilting her head back to inspect her face. “You might have a bruise. Why aren’t you wearing your glasses?”
She sighs, jerking her chin from his fingers. “I’m fine. I couldn’t find them this morning, and I wanted to bring the cake over while it was still warm.”
Duke chuckles. “You could’ve just given it to me to bring.”
“You would have eaten it.”
He shrugs. “Sam prefers bourbon anyway. He doesn’t eat much sugar.”
She whips her head to face me, eyes narrowed.
I shrug, lifting the bottle up to my lips. “Thanks anyway, sis.”
I turn back around, a practiced act of indifference.
“You have a broom somewhere? Shit, you need a full-time maid service, not just Lolita once a week. I thought Keely was gonna come clean up over here,” Duke says. “Just go home, Dolls. I’ll take it from here.” His voice drops lower as he continues speaking to her at a volume I can’t hear.
I collapse into my chair, wishing I could take back the cake-feeding incident already.
Now I have to be the dickhead who ignores her again after sending mixed signals about how I really feel.
I’ve spent over ten years as Duke’s best friend, effectively ignoring Dolly Redford.
Now, she’s going to go get ideas in her head about what the hell just happened here.
She’s just gonna have to accept that it was a stupid onetime fuckup that will never be repeated.