The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (55)

Josh squealed with delight, and the puppy barked from downstairs. We froze, our labored breaths the only sound for several seconds until we heard laughter and more barking. That was just enough to let reality and some goddamn common sense slide into the forefront of my mind.

I stepped back several steps and quickly zipped and buttoned my jeans. That almost happened.

Shit.

Had Josh not screamed, I would have mindlessly thrust my dick into her without a condom or another thought. I wanted her that much.

After she pulled up her jeans and fixed her bra, she lifted her unblinking gaze to mine. The truth was in her expression. She, too, knew what nearly happened.

And instead of apologizing or making some excuse, I chose not to acknowledge it. I was too rattled by the close call. So I cleared my throat. “Thanks for making everyone dinner,” I murmured.

She nodded a half-dozen times, seemingly content not to talk about it either, as she squatted to retrieve the ladle.

“When they ask why you’re flushed and out of breath, tell them a bear chased you on your return trip with the ladle.”

She continued to nod her head before she caught my subtle humor. I was cracking a joke as if I hadn’t just dodged a bullet.

Eve smirked, cheeks red. “Shut up.” She started to open the door and then stopped. “Can you be vulnerable with me again for like five seconds?” she asked. “Tell me you were a little jealous when you heard Drew talking about me.”

Was she serious? I was on the verge of potentially changing our lives forever because a cocky seventeen-year-old punk made me see red when he talked about Eve. And I couldn’t wait to prove that I was the only one who was allowed to touch her body.

Her unexpected vulnerability flabbergasted me, but I gave her what she needed. It was the least I could do. “I wanted to break all ten fingers and bust out his teeth.”





CHAPTER TWENTY





ERIC CARMEN, “HUNGRY EYES”





Eve

While everyone sipped soup, laughed, and talked over each other, I stared at Kyle’s hands as he gripped the spoon, held the napkin to blot his mouth, and clutched his water glass. His rugged, masculine hands had calluses, and those hands had touched me intimately.

We were a tinderbox, and every touch and look sparked an uncontrollable flame. He was desperate to have sex with me, and that made me feel so powerful.

“Are you okay?” Mom rested her hand on my lap. “You’re not eating.”

I returned a slight headshake and sat up straight, bringing Kyle’s attention in my direction.

“Your face has been flushed since you got back from our house. Are you feeling okay?”

A bear chased me.

I started to giggle but disguised it by clearing my throat. “Yes. No. Actually, I’m a little tired. Would it be okay if I went home to lie down?”

“Of course,” she said.

I pushed my chair back.

“Feel better,” Anne said. “Maybe we’ll see you tomorrow.”

I bobbed my head several times and found a fake smile to give everyone as I stood.

“Can you walk home?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, I should be fine. I’ll take Clifford.”

“No!” Josh protested.

“The dog can stay for the night,” Kyle said. “And I’ll drive you home real quick. Just get in my truck.” His words were slow and calm, like an afterthought. He did a much better job of pretending I wasn’t anything or anyone more than the girl next door who babysat for him.

“Thanks, Kyle,” my dad said as if God offered to escort me home.

I set my bowl in the sink and headed straight outside. It took Kyle a little longer than expected to meet me and climb into the driver’s seat.

He started the truck and shoved it into Reverse. “Are you feeling okay?”

I smirked. “Of course.”

“Then take off your jeans and underwear.”

“W-what?” I laughed.

“Just do it.” He didn’t look at me. Instead, he stayed focused on driving down his lane, leaving a plume of dust behind us as we fishtailed onto the gravel road to drive a hundred or so yards to my lane. He took a sharp right while I wriggled out of my jeans and underwear.

The second he stopped and killed the engine, he undid his jeans and plucked a condom from his front pocket.

That’s what took him so long. He didn’t have to say another word. As soon as he had the condom rolled on, and the seat was adjusted as far back as it would go, I straddled his lap. Despite the urgency of our time restraint, Kyle smiled at me like he had done in his bed. Sexy and vulnerable, as if he knew it was wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong.

I thought about it for a moment. He always smiled right before he kissed me.

Our lips sealed, and we moved together.

I thought it was just me—a boy-crazy freak who started thinking about sex years earlier and spent the better part of my high school days and nights dreaming of being the woman I was with Kyle. But it wasn’t just me; it was him too. It was us.

It was hell-bound, lustful sex. Screwing like rabbits.

An undeniable attraction.

An unavoidable scandal.

By the time we finished, the windows were foggy from the cool evening temperature.

“I’m not even a little sorry,” he murmured in a winded whisper while he nuzzled his face in my neck, both hands still up my shirt, cupping my breasts.