Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 70(@200wpm)___ 56(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
I don’t bother reading her string of messages with Perrie. Her university friend is very sweet and would never intentionally lead Kayla into trouble. But whoever this Justin is, he sounds as if he needs a fist in his face. I’m convinced he does the moment I open his message.
The photo he sent doesn’t merely make me mad. It makes me anxious. It makes me violent. And dear god, it makes me sweat.
I don’t know what the devil Kayla has been up to or how Justin got this photo, but I intend to find the fuck out. I may nearly be out of strength to guard Kayla’s body without defiling it, but no other man will put his hands on her as long as I’m still here.
And I intend to make that clear to Kayla—now.
Chapter Two
Kayla
I’m arranging my hair around my shoulders when Oliver stomps down the hall and uses his body to block the doorway, trapping me inside the bathroom. He’s seething as he clutches my phone, looking red-faced and infuriated.
“What’s wrong?” I’ve never seen even-tempered Oliver this agitated.
“Your phone dinged, so I picked it up to bring it to you and got quite a shock.” His expression turns hard. “What the bloody hell happened last night?”
“Nothing,” I croak. “Since spring break is almost over, Perrie and I went to a party.”
“A party, was it?”
“Yeah. Just a get-together with some friends and—” I frown, trying to remember what happened. I was a little tipsy, and I vaguely remember this game of—
“A mere get-together? What’s this, then?” He shoves my phone in my face.
The image on my screen makes my eyes widen in shock and a wild flush of embarrassment heat up my face. Shit. “It’s, um…a picture of my breasts.”
“Indeed. Your naked breasts.” Oliver doesn’t seem merely disapproving or disappointed, like Shane would have been. Those two were always my watchdogs in the past, keeping players and losers alike at bay. Probably why I’m still a virgin. But Oliver’s reaction now is totally different. He’s beyond furious.
“So? I don’t love that this picture is probably making the rounds on social media, but I wasn’t the only one topless last night.”
“Some wanker named Justin texted this to you. Who the fuck is he?”
A jackass I can barely tolerate. He keeps trying to hook up with me; I’m not interested. “No one.”
“Clearly, he’s someone since he’s seen you half-naked and I haven’t.”
Is Oliver saying he wants to?
He rakes his stare over my tank. “Did he touch them?”
“No.” I shake my head in emphasis. With his stare on my nipples, they’re so sensitive that the caress of my hair across them nearly has me gasping.
He shoves my phone on the bathroom counter. “Did anyone touch them?”
“No. Why does it matter?”
Oliver ignores my question and clenches his jaw as he gathers my hair in his fists before pushing it behind my shoulders to hang down my back. His gaze fuses to my breasts once more, barely covered by my old tank. My nipples draw up even tighter. There’s no way he doesn’t notice.
I swallow. What is he thinking?
“Are you lying to me?” he demands.
I shake my head. “A group of us played strip poker. You know I’m terrible at cards. I had a little too much wine. I wasn’t the only one who lost her clothes. Perrie got all the way down to a thong and…” I toss my hands in the air. “Justin must have snapped that picture when I wasn’t looking.”
My answer doesn’t calm him at all.
“Take off your shirt. I intend to check you for bruising and whisker burn.”
“What?” I rear back. Show Oliver my bare breasts?
“Take. Off. Your. Shirt,” he growls. “Now.”
“If someone touched me, why the hell do you care? I’m a big girl. And you’re leaving.”
“Do it, Kayla.” He doesn’t sound at all like my second big brother, but a jealous lover.
I wonder… Is he demanding to inspect me simply because he thinks someone else manhandled me, or because he wants to see my breasts for his own pleasure?
That notion has my pussy clenching.
Clandestinely, I walk my stare down Oliver’s body—wide shoulders, a muscled chest, lean abs, narrow hips. A thick erection bulges between his legs.
Holy shit!
If I show him my breasts, will he stop seeing me as a sister and finally see me as a woman? If he likes it, is there any chance he’ll be tempted enough to stay?
I’ll never know if I don’t try.
Heart pounding, I cross my arms over my middle and grab the hem of my tank top, sweeping it off my body.
Gaze glued to my breasts, Oliver lets out a rush of breath. “Kayla…”
“Yeah?” I pant.
He swallows, then seems to recover his wits and holds out his hand. “Give me your shirt.”
With shaking fingers, I place my tank in his upturned palm. My mounds feel heavy under his stare.