I bit my lip, trying to keep from crying out. Another moment later, he had me stretched out on the couch and was pushing my knees apart. I felt the subtle burn of his stubble when he dropped hot kisses on the inside of each thigh. He finally, finally, brought his mouth to my sex.

  My hips bucked into him instantly. He already knew me well. He knew just what to do to bring me to the edge. He fucked me slow and sure with his fingers while his tongue teased me to near incoherence. A flash of pleasure finally burst in a ray through my body. My mind went blank as I cried out, and the orgasm hit me in deep waves with the pleasure running through so forcefully that I was nearly limp.

  By the time he rose up, I dragged my eyes open, propping myself on my elbows to see him kicking his jeans free of his ankles. His arousal jutted out. He turned, sitting on the couch and murmuring, “Come ’ere. I know you like to ride me.”

  I did. That said, Grant inside me any which way was amazing. But this was just perfect. Somehow, I gathered enough muscle coordination to straddle him. On the heels of a breath, he was filling me. He controlled my descent, and the delicious feel of him stretching me elicited a deep moan.

  My forehead fell to his, and he kissed me, slow and light. He gripped my hips and thrust, filling me completely. The pressure where we were joined created a pleasure so intense, I had to bite my lip to keep from coming again.

  “Sweetheart, you don't have to wait. I'm right there with you,” Grant murmured against my lips.

  One more thrust and the slippery pressure over my clit sent me spiraling again as I cried out. I loved that he said my name on the heels of a ragged shout. The heat of his release filled me, satisfying in a way I didn't even understand.

  I curled against him, and he simply held me there on the couch. I could feel his heart beating against mine. Our breathing slowed together. His fingers sifted through my hair, and I loved it. This was the part I was starting to worry about.

  Oh, the sex was amazing. Beyond amazing. I just wasn't supposed to feel so good being held by him. It felt exactly right.

  As the youngest in my family, I had always fought to show that no one needed to worry about me. I fought to be independent, fought to be strong. As a result, I hated to feel vulnerable. Yet with Grant, I did.

  It frightened me because my usual inclination to fight against it when we were together like this dissipated into nothing.

  “Do you think that was too loud?” he asked.

  I giggled against his neck where my head was tucked. I lifted it, meeting his eyes. “It doesn't matter. Cat’s not here. Is she gone all weekend?” I asked, not even bothering to keep the hopeful tone out of my voice.

  “I don't know. Definitely tonight. Nora dropped her off.”

  “Ah, so we should christen every room in the house while we have time.”

  Grant chuckled. “Well, we've already taken care of the kitchen, now the living room, the stairs, your bedroom, and my bedroom. I'm sorry, but my sister's bedroom is off-limits for me. But there's the bathroom.”

  He waggled his eyebrows, and I giggled again. A teeny-tiny voice, like the kind you hear from a great distance, tried to shout out in my mind that I should be worried. This was supposed to feel awkward, but it didn't. I ignored it.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Grant

  Cat was gone again the next night. We'd already christened the bathroom, so to speak. I’d fucked Harley long and slow against the tiled wall. Twice. She'd also given me a morning blow job in there.

  Things between us were getting dicey, and I knew it. Yet it was just too good. I couldn't not give in to my need for her. I savored the way she was when we were naked. When she had her clothes on, her armor was on, but once we were bare, she let her guard down. I loved every second of it.

  It made me feel like there might be something there for both of us. My cynical mind was all, What the fuck, dude?

  “Dude, you're like seriously zoning out,” Flynn offered a few days later from where he sat on a stool beside me at the counter in the lodge kitchen. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing,” I lied.

  Telling Flynn what I was thinking about was definitely a bad plan. Flynn was my brother, and he was also my friend. And Diego was one of his best friends. All the guys who worked here were his best friends. If Flynn knew what I was doing with Diego's little sister and Diego found out, there'd be hell to pay.

  “Not much, just seriously zoning out,” I added.

  Flynn knew me well enough to know better, but he let me bullshit and simply shrugged. Daphne was pulling a tray out of the oven. A moment later, she was sliding some rolls onto a plate. “Help yourself, guys.”

  “Oh, what are they?” I asked.

  “Guess,” she teased.

  “Are they too hot to eat now?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Flynn said. “I have learned this lesson. We have to wait a few minutes.”

  “Do you know what they are?”

  He shook his head.

  “Let’s bet on the guess.”

  “Sure, five bucks to who’s right,” he agreed.

  A few minutes later, Flynn and I both bit into a roll. I spoke first, “Onion, spinach, and I think that's mozzarella.”

  Flynn chewed and swallowed. “My guess is onion, spinach, and muenster cheese.”

  Daphne's eyes were twinkling as she glanced back and forth between us. “Grant is right.”

  “About what?” Diego called as he entered the kitchen from the back door, catching the last comment.

  “Grant guessed the filling,” Flynn replied. “I don't have any cash on me right now. I promise I'll give it to you later.”

  I snorted. “You'll forget.”

  “No way,” Flynn insisted.

  “You probably will,” Diego said as he slipped his hips onto the stool beside me.

  “Hey, I don't usually forget,” Flynn protested.

  “Yeah, you do,” Diego and I said in unison.

  Flynn looked affronted. “I'm going to get some cash now.”

  Daphne grinned as he stood and strode quickly to the back door.

  “Can I have one?” Diego asked.

  “You don't need to ask,” Daphne said as she handed him a small plate.

  Diego snagged one of the rolls from the serving plate in front of us. “How's it going?” he asked.

  “Pretty good,” I replied. “What are you doing out here tonight?”

  “It's yoga night, man.”

  “Oh, that's right. I forgot.”

  “Better not forget. You know Gemma takes that real personally,” he said somberly.

  “She does not,” Daphne countered. “Although I expect everyone to show up. I love yoga class with Gemma.”

  I shifted my shoulders. “I always get tension right back here.” I reached up and patted below my neck, just between my shoulder blades.

  “Well, if you go to yoga enough, you can actually reach down there,” Diego offered dryly.

  Daphne went into the pantry to get something, returning and busying herself at the stove. “Where's Cat?” I asked.

  “She's going in for a tryout with the theater in town,” Daphne replied.

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yep. She said she'll probably spend the night with her friend because the tryouts run late.”

  “Oh, wow. I think that'll be fun for her. What will you do if she gets a part?” I asked.

  “She said that practice is only during the week until they have the show. The show is scheduled for three weekends. We’ll survive without her.”

  Of course, my brain immediately realized if that happened, I'd get more freedom with Harley on the nights that Cat wasn't home. I kicked those thoughts to the curb swiftly. I did not need to be fantasizing about Harley with her older brother sitting beside me.

  “Thanks for telling me what happened with Harley by the way,” he offered. “She talked to me about it the other night.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Sounds like it's gonna be okay. She went to the doctor. She said Quinn will prescribe her some medication and that it's pretty minor,” Diego explained.

  “Well, good.” I was relieved myself.

  What are you doing, dude?

  As it was, I didn't want to worry about her. It was enough to be hiding this secret.

  “What's going on with Harley?” Daphne asked.

  “Minor heart condition. I guess she occasionally has an irregular heartbeat,” Diego replied.

  “Is that a big deal?” Daphne pressed.

  “She says it's not. I guess one of our aunts has the same issue. I only know because Grant let me know she fainted. She’s still a little pissed about it,” Diego offered.

  “People are kind of private about health stuff, and Harley doesn't like people worrying about her,” Daphne said.

  “Yeah, for God's sake, don't tell her I mentioned it,” Diego said with a shake of his head.

  Just then, Harley walked into the kitchen, glancing around. “Are you guys talking about me?”

  “Oh, fuck,” Diego muttered.

  Daphne cast her a warm smile. “Don't worry. He was just thanking Grant for letting him know you fainted.”

  Harley narrowed her eyes. “It's fine. It's not a secret. Not anymore. Thanks to Grant and now you,” she said pointedly.

  “Hey, what did I do?” Diego countered.

  “Well, I know Grant wouldn't bring it up again,” she retorted.

  I was actually relieved she said that. “I didn't, I swear.” I held both of my palms up.

  Harley’s cheeks were flushed when she sat down at the counter at an angle across from me. I ignored the jolt of awareness. So much for the stupid idea that this would burn out between us. Not even close. The chemistry between us was on a repeating circuit, burning hotter by the day.

  “Most everyone has something going on with their health,” Daphne offered.

  “What’s your deal then?” Harley countered. She sighed when Daphne shrugged. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

  Diego glanced at his sister, his brow furrowing. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.”

  “It's okay. It's all out in the open now. You know, Gemma knows, Daphne knows, Grant knows. It's not a big deal. Can we change the subject, please?”

  “Sure, have a roll,” Diego said, sliding the plate by with the savory rolls closer to her.

  She grabbed one just as Daphne set a small plate in front of her. “Oh my God, these are so good,” she said after a bite.

  “They're so good. We all talk with our mouths full,” Diego teased.

  Flynn reappeared with a five-dollar bill in hand. As he slapped it down in front of me on the counter, he asked, “Do I owe you anything else?”

  I shook my head. He looked at Diego, who did the same. “You finally paid me after losing at poker a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Oh, are we having girls’ card night soon?” Harley asked, gesturing in Daphne’s direction.

  “Just the girls?” Diego asked as he looked at Harley.

  “Yes, you guys did guys’ night for a while, so it's girls’ night because there are more women in the staff house now.”

  The door to the hallway opened again, this time with Gemma appearing. “Girls’ card night,” Daphne called over.

  “Where?” Gemma asked as she walked over, stopping between Harley and Diego and leaning over to press a kiss on his cheek.

  He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Can I come?”

  “No,” Gemma replied with a smile.

  “It's at the staff house whenever we do it,” Harley offered. “Cat’s been practicing with Grant.”

  “I'm good at poker,” Daphne said.

  “You are?” Diego asked.

  She nodded. “Oh, yes.”

  “Let's just play for fun,” Gemma interjected.

  “Why don’t you invite the guys?” Diego persisted.

  “No,” Harley said, narrowing her eyes.

  He rested his forehead on Gemma’s shoulder as she chuckled. He lifted his head and gave her a lingering kiss. I looked away. The intimacy and closeness between them were so obvious. My heart clenched as I reflexively glanced toward Harley. She was looking down at her plate. Her eyes lifted, colliding with mine, and I experienced a jolt. It felt as if the air between us sparked. She looked down quickly, and I grabbed another roll, taking a big bite.

  Fuck me. It was getting harder and harder to be around her in front of our friends.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harley

  The following evening, I got back to the staff house before Grant, which wasn't unusual. I usually got here first. Sometimes I had dinner at the lodge, but I often came back and worked after eating a little early. I needed the quiet to focus.

  I was in the kitchen making some tea when my heart felt funny. I ignored the sensation, pouring a generous dollop of honey into my tea and taking a swallow. As I turned to walk across the kitchen, I felt light-headed and fuzzy and knew what was about to happen. I felt myself slipping.

  I came to a few minutes later. I glanced up at the clock. Eight minutes had passed since I walked into the kitchen. I felt shaky and wanted to rest on the floor, yet I was galvanized to get myself up. Grant might arrive at any minute.

  On unsteady legs, I scrambled to my feet, scanning the floor. My tea had fallen. The mug was broken, and tea had spilled on the floor. Blessedly, I hadn't landed in the spilled tea or

  any of the shards from the mug. I hurried to the sink, grabbing the paper towels from the corner of the counter. A moment later, I was sweeping up the glass when I heard the front door open.

  “Fuck!” I hissed to myself.

  “What?” Grant called.

  “Oh, nothing,” I called in return.

  Of course, the man had long legs and crossed from the living room area into the kitchen in maybe one second. He stood in the archway between the rooms, surveying the kitchen floor. I had the dustpan in hand. His eyes landed on the shards of the mug.

  “What happened?”

  “I dropped my tea. I walked too quickly, and it sloshed over. It was hot, so I dropped it,” I lied.

  Grant looked at me suspiciously, but he nodded. “Okay.” After a beat, he pressed, “Tell me the truth.”

  “I am. I swear.” I felt a pinch of guilt, the sting sharp in my heart.

  He was quiet for a long moment. “It’s not like you owe me anything, but my mom died from a heart defect that we didn't know she had.”

  That stinging sensation burned more deeply. Grant’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a moment. I reflexively crossed the kitchen to him, still holding the dustpan.

  “I'm sorry,” I said.

  His eyes opened. “It's not your fault.”

  “I know. That’s not how I meant it. I'm sorry in general that she died. I didn't know how she died.”

  “We all got tested for it after that,” he added. “None of us have it.”

  “I have SVT,” I blurted out. I quickly explained what it was to him, ending with, “Just a weird heart thing. Sometimes my heart skips a beat or gets irregular. That's why I faint sometimes. I'm following up with Quinn next week to discuss medication.”

  Grant nodded slowly before his eyes shifted down to the dustpan. “You should put that in the trash.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I will.” I quickly brushed the remaining shards from the mug into the dustpan and dumped it in the trash before walking to the closet in the corner of the kitchen and pulling out the mop. “There was honey in my tea,” I explained over my shoulder.

  After I mopped, I asked, “Where’s Cat?”

  “I guess she's staying in town.”

  I bit my lip as I felt heat race into my cheeks. My pulse vroomed faster. “Are you sure she's spending the night in town?”

  “Yes. Nora dropped her off. She's at practice tonight.”

  “Should we watch TV?” I asked.

  “Sure.”

  This was all for show. We were just going through the motions. I knew, in a matter of minutes, we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off each other. In a way, I wanted the tease of it. The anticipation itself was becoming addictive with Grant. Hiding it from Cat was almost overwhelming. The secrecy created this undercurrent of need and the thrill of the forbidden every night. By the time the coast was clear—meaning Cat had been in her room long enough that we could guess she had gone to sleep—Grant would open his bedroom door. He would go into the bathroom, wait a minute or two before flushing the toilet, and fake opening and closing his door again. Only then would he stealthily enter my room.

  We would lose ourselves in each other. Sometimes it was rushed, and sometimes it was slow. We were always quiet.

  A little while later, I was sitting a few feet away from him on the couch. He glanced over, reaching for my hand and placing it over his arousal. I was wet, and I couldn’t help but bite my lip and let out a little moan as my channel clenched with need.

  “Tell me how wet you are,” he murmured, low under his breath.

  I shifted my hips before unbuttoning my jeans and shimmying them down with one hand just far enough to give him access. “Why don't you find out?”

  He moved closer to me on the couch. My eyes fluttered closed, and I whimpered when he slipped his fingers into me.

  “Fuck me,” he murmured.

  I was soaked, slippery wet. He slid two fingers inside, stretching me before sliding them out. I whimpered in protest. He lifted his hand, sucking his fingers into his mouth. His eyes were locked to mine when he drew them out. “I fucking love how you taste.”

  In a flash, we were frantic, tearing at each other’s clothes. My climax couldn't come fast enough as I straddled him, sheathing him inside me swiftly. I came in a noisy burst just before he thrust upward one final time. The cords in his neck were standing out as his hands gripped my hips tightly. He came with my name on his lips in a husky whisper.

  I collapsed against him. He held me tight to him for a few breaths before he tensed. Lifting my head, I saw his eyes go wide. “I hear someone.”