Under an Endless Moon: Chapter 19

What in the ever-lovin’-fuck did I think I was doing? Jacking myself when she was just on the other side of the door and doing it with her face imprinted behind my squeezed eyes, no less?

Motherfuckin’ treachery.

But this solution was a whole ton better than giving into what I’d really wanted to do. I had never been so tempted in my life than when she’d been on her hands and knees on my bed.

Nearly crawling to me, desire carved into every crease of that gorgeous, stunning face.

The bare morning shining around her, that black hair a tumbled mess, the outline of her nipples just showing through the thin fabric of my tee.

She looked like a fuckin’ goddess.

A moonflower.

A morning glory.

No better sight to ever behold.

I knew she’d been drenched, girl giving off this floral scent that was doused in arousal.

But it was the plea in those dark, dark eyes that had nearly been my undoing.

And it was the memory of those eyes that had me tightening my grip around my cock, pumping myself hard and fast as I replayed the need that had thrummed between us as if it was music rather than utter blasphemous temptation.

Because that’s exactly what this was.

Blasphemous.

I had to support myself with my free hand on the shower wall as I came so fuckin’ hard that I bent in two. Thinking about her this way. Wanting to say fuck it and walk straight back out to that bed and crawl back into it with her.

It’d make me nothing but a liar and a traitor.

I’d promised River.

And I’d promised myself.

Groaning through the blissful agony, I let myself relish in the ecstasy for one second more before I forced myself to tuck it back in the tight box where I kept it locked.

I blamed my weakness on the fact I’d had to sleep tangled with her last night. The way protectiveness had bound me in a fist when I’d heard those cries. The way old rage wanted to come barreling back at the sight of her scars this morning.

And that tat. Fuck. It did too many things to me all at once. Gutted me and lifted me, pride swelling so high all while I’d felt like I was on my knees.

Baby sister.

Baby sister.

Chanting it never seemed to make it any truer, though. But I couldn’t give into this. Only thing I could do was go back out there and act like it’d never happened like I’d told her we had to do.

I washed myself then turned off the spray, climbing from the shower as I grabbed a towel and dried off.

Clicking open the door, I peeked back out into my room to find the bed was empty.

I didn’t know if I was disappointed or relieved.

I tossed the towel to the floor, then pulled on clean underwear, jeans, and a tee.

Then I cracked open the door to the scent of fresh-brewed coffee filling the air.

It was still early, the morning just beginning to fully take to the sky, the sound of the woods coming alive around us.

But the real light was in my kitchen. The woman was still wearing my tee like a dress. That black mass of hair piled up high on her head.

Legs and feet bare.

Fuck me.

She was nothing but a fantasy. A wicked, tormenting fantasy because I couldn’t allow myself to go having thoughts like this. It was hard enough on the daily. But with her staying under my roof? It was already proving to be torture.

The best kind of torture because she didn’t act shy or weird after what’d happened.

She just tossed me one of those mischievous grins as she poured a mug of coffee. “Thank God you have fresh beans from Morning Dew Brewhouse.” She groaned. “This girlie cannot be expected to start her day without it. How did you know it’s my favorite?”

I took the three steps down to the main floor, my feet bare on the cool tile. “Know most of your favorites, Raven. It’s my job.”

I tugged at an errant piece of her hair as I passed, and I casually strode for the refrigerator like I hadn’t told her fifteen minutes ago that I’d be the luckiest bastard alive if I got to touch her.

I opened it and pulled out the Italian Sweet Cream creamer and waved it between us. “Like this.”

Letting go of a feigned gasp, she touched her chest. “You really do know me, Otto Hudson. I’m honored.”

“That’s right, I do.” I set it down in front of her.

“But why do you have it?” she asked with a quirk of her brow. “I thought you take your coffee black?”

Like a fool, I reached out and touched that little freckle near her left lip. “Keep it in case you drop by.”

I wondered how much that revealed. Because softness instantly infiltrated the playfulness, affection ridging that stunning, striking face as she gazed up at me.

Clearing my throat, I stepped back. “You heard from your brother?”

She rolled her eyes. “He only texted me twenty-five times.”

A light chuckle rolled out of me as I drove my fingers through my still damp hair. “Think I’m going to go have a chat with him. Let him know you might be staying with me for a bit.”

She doused her coffee with the cream and stirred it as she glanced my way. “I want to be the one who tells him I’m moving out.”

“Ah, I see your chicken tendencies are waning.”

With a giggle, she swatted at me. “What are you talking about? I’m as brave as they come.”

Yeah, she was.

“What time do you need to get to the shop? I’ll be sure to get back in time to give you a ride.”

“I need to be there for my morning delivery at eight.”

“That works. I’ll be back in a split,” I promised her.

“I’ll be ready.”