Trey bolted upright. The long shadows of evening fell across the apartment, the angle of the sun shifting in the sky and glowing a deep orange from the opposite side of the room. A comfortable coolness surrounded Trey and he blinked, attempting to pinpoint what awakened him.
Since Bryson hadn’t returned, Trey had taken the couch to get some sleep, not wanting to disturb Brittany’s rest. Or test his resolve. He rubbed his jaw, attempting to get his bearings. He didn’t know how the hell Bryson slept out here. Trey had to curl up to keep his legs from hanging over the side of the too-small sofa.
The sound of the shower sent hot signals to his groin and he groaned. She must’ve awakened and now she stood beneath the running water, naked and wet, her body slick with soap, just as he’d described to her earlier. His raging hard-on thickened.
The doorbell buzzed again and Trey realized that was the sound that had pulled him from his sleep. The tantalizing aroma of garlic and onion swelled in his head and his stomach growled, his mouth watering at the enticing scents.
The doorbell rang again.
“Shit! I’m coming,” he called then yawned. He flicked on the two lamps, shaking off the last vestiges of his sleep. He’d get rid of his uninvited guest and spend time talking to Brittany before he reported to duty. He didn’t want to find her in the same state tomorrow as he’d found her in this morning.
“Sylvia,” he murmured to the tall, busty beauty in front of him when he pulled open the door. The tank top and mini skirt she wore revealed much of her dusky tan skin. He’d bet she didn’t have anything on under her skirt.
The running water stopped and Trey tensed. He had no obligation to Brittany but they’d gone way beyond the boundaries of friendship. Having another woman at the apartment would be the ultimate insult.
“Aren’t you going to let me in?” Sylvia asked in her husky, smoker’s voice.
A door opened; a second later, another door closed. What the hell was he thinking? It shouldn’t make a difference if Brittany saw Sylvia here…or Elsie or anyone else. Maybe Brittany seeing him with another woman would help drive home the point that they had no future together.
Sylvia was a gorgeous thirty year old. Tall, curvy and meaty. Not fat, just lush and she knew how to wrap her lips around his cock just the way he liked it.
He forced a smile. “Sure I am.”
She sidled next to him, kissing him on the mouth. Her lips were moist and inviting, tangy with the lingering taste of a cigarette.
Her hand slid along the outline of his still-hard cock, grasping him and squeezing his thick length. Although he’d awakened with the erection, it wouldn’t matter one way or the other to Sylvia.
“Close the door,” she breathed, pulling her lips away from his just long enough to speak. “I want to take you in my mouth.”
Trey sucked in a breath, slamming the door shut, trying but not succeeding in pushing Brittany’s exquisite and delicate features from his mind. But he couldn’t make love to her and he needed relief. He needed the edges removed from his lust for her so he could think clearer.
Pulling Sylvia closer to him, he deepened their kiss, rocking his throbbing cock against her. Yes! Sylvia was his type. In her heels, she was over six feet, almost eye-level with him. He liked Amazons not petite, underfed little dolls.
Her mouth was at the base of his throat, licking the pulse point there, her hands manipulating the outline of his prick in a steady rhythm. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Touch me,” she demanded, grinding against him. “I seem to have forgotten my panties at home.”
Touch her. His cock was urging him to accept her invitation. They could fuck in the bathroom so Brittany wouldn’t walk in while he was driving into Sylvia. As appealing as his body found that thought, his brain rebelled. He didn’t want to touch Sylvia or any other woman. He wanted Brittany.
“Fuck!” he snarled, pushing Sylvia away so hard she stumbled back, a startled look on her face. “We need to chill, Sylvia. Bryson’s little sister is here.”
Sylvia’s big, pretty eyes blinked, her surprise floating away, a cat-like smile replacing it. She stepped closer to him and reached for his cock again. “Well let’s go to your bedroom.”
His bedroom? Like hell. Every woman he associated with knew his bedroom was sacrosanct. Everyone except Brittany, which made Sylvia’s suggestion sound all the more sacrilegious.
He walked to the recliner then decided against sitting. Sylvia would be in his lap in a second. “She’s in my bedroom,” he gritted.
“You’re fucking your best friend’s little sister?” Sylvia asked with a tsk. “That’s low even for you.”
“There’s nothing going on with us, Sylvia,” he snapped. “She fell asleep in my bed while I was at work.”
Without answering, Sylvia sashayed to the couch and sat down. She licked her deep-burgundy-stained lips, obviously hoping to tempt him. But at least a few feet separated them and she wouldn’t jump in his lap when he sat. Relieved, he took his seat in the recliner. The moment he did, Sylvia opened her legs, touching herself, teasing him with the sight of her swollen clit peeping through her mat of fur. She opened her glistening wet lips for him and circled her finger around her nub before popping the finger into her mouth to taste herself.
Trey stretched his neck from side to side then folded his arms, aware of the tension tightening his muscles.
“I just need a few minutes alone with you.” She licked her finger again, moistening it with saliva before swirling it around her swollen femininity. “We don’t have to fuck. Let’s just sixty-nine.”
God yes. Anything to relieve the pressure building in his body. If only she was Brittany.
His bedroom door opened and closed, and Trey shot to his feet. He had no time to ask Sylvia to close her legs and behave. Sylvia was sizzling hot in the bedroom and Trey never knew what to expect from her.
Brittany stopped at the edge of the little hallway, her citrine-colored gaze falling on the back of Sylvia’s head.
Dressed in denim overalls and a white tank top, Brittany looked young and innocent next to Sylvia’s in-your-face seductiveness. Brittany’s hair hadn’t dried and it curled around her face and shoulders in dark, damp waves. Trey started toward her, a feeling he’d never known—but recognized nonetheless—hitting him full force. Guilt. It was illogical but everything about his feelings for Brittany was illogical. One smile from her made him feel ten feet tall; one touch obliterated thoughts of everyone else.
Sylvia came to stand next to him, gorgeous, confident, long-legged and big-breasted. Brittany’s eyes fell to his groin. He was so hard his balls ached, so he knew what she would find—and think.
A brief flash of anger and hurt crossed her features. She threw Trey a dark look but then swallowed hard and schooled her features into a blank slate. “I’m Brittany,” she said with a patently bright smile. “Bryson’s sister.”
Sylvia nodded, her gaze traveling between him and Brittany and back again, contemplative. “Sylvia.”
Brittany pulled in a breath, her shoulders heaving. “I’m preparing oven-cooked chicken.” She looked at Sylvia and raised her chin. “Would you like to join us?”
Perverse satisfaction at her jealousy and her insipid attempts to hide it settled into Trey. He smiled at her like a blithering idiot.
“Well then, excuse me,” she continued when no one answered. “I have to finish up in the kitchen.”
She brushed past him, her eyes promising dire retribution. The smell of her just-washed hair—like freshly picked apples—reached him and right before she left his line of vision, he winked at her. She gasped, obviously outraged, and stepped into the kitchen. She swiveled around, her gaze meeting his before she slammed the revolving door. It flapped back and forth on its hinges before creaking to a halt.
Her feminine pique made Trey laugh. Sylvia cleared her throat.
“I have to talk to Brittany,” he drawled. “I’ll call you when my shift ends tomorrow. Maybe I can stop by your place then.”
Cocking her head, Sylvia studied him long and hard. “Maybe…but the question is will you?”
Trey scratched his jaw. “I don’t know. That’s my intention.”
“But not your heart’s desire,” she said with a wry smile.
“Sylvia, I don’t want Brittany—”
“Please.” She snorted. “Don’t be a dense ass. You have it bad for her.”
Yes he did. And if Sylvia saw it, then Bryson saw it too. That’s why he was acting more like a raging bull than usual. Bryson knew Trey didn’t do relationships.
“You’re a good man,” she continued with surprising wistfulness. “You just have to open up your heart and allow someone in.”
“No, I’ve told you before, I am not interested in a long-term commitment with any woman.”
“Yes, more’s the pity.” She headed to the door. “Which is just going to make your fall all the more satisfying.”
“Witch,” he growled at her smug words.
Her throaty laughter drew a smile from him.
“I say kudos to Brittany. Because whether you’ll admit it or not, you’ve already fallen.”