“Mmm, guess it’s a good thing I finally gave in to you.”

“You guess?” Gray teased.

“Well, you were so persistent. Coaxing me no matter how many times I said no…”

Gray grinned and lifted his head, staring down at Melissa Peachtree spread out beneath him on his bed. He’d been trying to get her there for so long that he wasn’t about to speed up the process, even if his mom was due home soon from work. Maybe he could make time stand still if he stared at the clock long enough.

Nah, scratch that. He’d rather stare at Melissa’s tits.

“I think it turned out to be worth your while.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” She lifted her shoulders off the bed. “Do that again. Harder.”

“Your nipples are already red enough to match your lipstick. Sure you want more?”

“You know it, baby.” She tugged on his hair, walking the fingers of her other hand up his chest to toy with the chain around his neck. She was a toucher, and he couldn’t say he minded. At all. “Though there’s something even better you could do for me with that mouth.” Her dark eyes lit up with her suggestive smile.

His favorite thing. Some guys hated going down on a girl. He thought they were idiots. If he had his way, he would’ve been happy to eat pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner. From the tiny pink string bikini stretched between her narrow hips and the dizzying scent of her arousal, he had a feeling this one would be particularly delicious.

“Is there?” He thumbed her nipples. “I think you’re going to have to be a little more descriptive. Tell me what you really want. And don’t play coy like you used to do.”

She laughed, all throaty seduction, and leaned up on her elbows to study the movement of his mouth over her breasts. She wasn’t some high school chick who was too young to understand what he craved, never mind want the same thing.

Melissa was a freshman in college, one of his friends’ older sisters, and she’d drawn out their flirtation so long that his cock pulsed between his legs, thick and hard. He’d unbuttoned his jeans to give himself room, but he might as well not have bothered. There would never be enough room in his pants when Melissa was beneath him.

“So you want me to talk dirty.” She fisted his hair to drag his mouth to hers. “Before you do me dirty.”

His fingers continued working, unable to keep still. “Sounds about right.”

“I want you to use those wicked-fast fingers to make me come. Then when I’m coming, I want you to replace them with your tongue.” She bit his lower lip, dragging it between her sharp white teeth. “Slide it way deep inside my pussy until you lick me dry.”

His heart kicked hard. “I like the way you think.” He smiled and turned his head, burying his face in the thick ribbons of her blonde hair. She smelled like strawberries and sex. He didn’t want to forget a single detail about having her this first time.

“Oh, and don’t worry,” she purred. “I always return the favor.”

“I’m not worried.” He shimmied down her curvy body. “All I want is that sweet pussy on my mouth.”

A movement in the connected bathroom caught his eye and he shifted his gaze to the doorway, his hand fisting in the sheet beside Melissa’s hip. Jazz stood just inside the threshold of the other doorway, utterly still. With her pigtails, cutoffs and bare feet, she looked like a kid. All she needed were scuffed knees. But her eyes weren’t young. They watched him with an understanding way beyond her years.

Dull horror and embarrassment and something else, darker and edgier, coursed through his veins. He waited until Melissa turned her head and mouthed the word, “Go.”

She held her ground. Not moving. Barely breathing from what he could tell.

Obviously she needed a nudge to get the hell out of where she had no business being. Short of getting up to shoo her away—which would be bad on too many levels to count—he had no choice but to continue and hope she got the hint. Fast.

Melissa flicked her tongue over her teeth. “Do I need to draw you a roadmap? Go south.”

“I know right where I’m headed. No detours.” Bracing his hands flat on the mattress, Gray ducked his head and caught the eager tip of her breast between his lips. He sucked harder than he had before, more than a little off-center from the knowledge that they had a spectator.

Fuck, if he closed his eyes, he would swear he could smell that watermelon-scented lotion Jazz was always smearing all over herself. She’d sat on his bed last week and he’d had to run his sheets through the wash twice to get every last trace of the scent out. Now she was filling up his bathroom with that same damn smell.

Whose bright idea had it been to move her into Brent’s old room? He couldn’t share a bathroom with a spy.

A spy who was still standing there, head tilted, eyes narrowed, as he slid down Melissa’s body and yanked at her panties. He rolled them over her uptilted hips and practically attacked her pussy, so pissed off and turned on he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

Jazz shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be getting harder from knowing she was.

She was too young, a girl who’d seen and survived way too much. She wasn’t ready for this. If he wasn’t some kind of pervert, he’d get up and slam the door he’d accidentally left open.

Even though he knew she liked to come into his room that way. Even though he’d never locked a door to keep Jazz out in the months she’d lived in his—their—home.

Even. Even. Even.

Melissa moaned as he speared his tongue deep, completely without skill. He’d lost the rhythm. The beat to their movements was gone. He raised his head, not to seek his lover’s expression, but Jazz’s.

Their gazes locked. And held.

She fumbled behind her for the doorknob and stumbled into the room at her back. She looked for all the world like a doe who’d crawled off into the bushes to die after being hit by a car she’d never seen coming.

Fuck.

Shutting his eyes, he lowered his head to finish what he’d started.