Page 65 of Into These Eyes

Jamie

S ilencing my phone’s alarm, I continue to stare at the ceiling like I’ve been doing for the last hour. With so many things swirling around in my head, I have no idea how I managed to get any sleep at all.

I’ve decided to take a sickie today. I know it won’t look good, not right before the firm officially breaks for Christmas tomorrow, but I can’t summon the mental capacity to care.

Finding Mum’s letter is far more important.

From what my father said in his video, it sounds like it’ll hold the answers I’ve desperately craved for so long.

But first, I need my Gavin Lake fix. Oh, and some coffee.

As I clean my teeth, I replay that crazy stunt I pulled last night.

I’d felt like the worst person on earth when Gavin left the house while I dealt with Anika.

Then to top it off, the poor guy had to agree to her ridiculous no-sex terms. He’d given me the best orgasm of my life—well, half-orgasm due to a rude, cockblocking interrupter—and I’d desperately wanted to return that favour.

If the number of times I’ve caught him sporting an erection is anything to go by, he’s been dealing with a lot of wrist action over the last few weeks.

I’d actually stunned myself when I devised a plan to make it up to him.

Something else surprised me, too. I’ve never thought of a penis as beautiful, but when I saw his, held it and stroked it, and witnessed the pleasure it gave him, that’s what came to mind. Along with thoughts of kneeling before him and taking him into my mouth while he watches.

I don’t even know who I am anymore.

Spitting toothpaste into the sink, I clench my thighs against the torture of that warm, heavy ache. I really need to clear my mind and make room for more important thoughts.

Like Mum’s letter.

Like Gavin’s tattoo.

When I saw it up close last night, before he hid it, my heart nearly broke. His reaction left no doubt it holds significant meaning. But it’s also clear that I need to be significant to him before he opens up and explains that meaning.

Slipping on my robe, I hurry along the hallway toward the sound of grinding coffee beans, eager to lay eyes on the man who makes me feel alive and special.

When I pass the hallway wall, I stop. There he is, making his coffee, wearing his usual tight t-shirt and thin trackpants.

Trackpants that now cover areas I’ve been privileged enough to lay my greedy eyes upon.

Like those amazing glutes that, for some strange reason, I’d really like to sink my teeth into.

Padding silently up behind him, I slide my palm over one tight arse cheek and squeeze as I press my body against his back.

“I don’t think your big sister would approve of that,” he says in a low, gravelly voice. I freeze, not sure if I heard him right. Then he glances over his shoulder at me. And jerks a little, like I’ve surprised him. “Oh, it’s you.”

Mouth agape, I glare at him.

I’m not sure where it comes from, but I draw my hand back and slap his butt.

He doesn’t even flinch, yet my palm burns from the sting. Chuckling, he turns and grabs my hips as I bring my arms up between us in a useless effort to push him away.

“So easy to tease,” he says, eyes sparkling with mischief. “And boy, are you going to pay for that slap.”

“You deserved it. I don’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. If you get to slap me because I teased you with words, then I most certainly get to punish you for that teasing little strip show you put on last night.

” As my arms soften, he places his mouth against my ear.

“That was so fucking hot, it took every ounce of restraint I possess to stop myself from dragging you to the floor and fucking you.”

“That would’ve been breaking the rules,” I remind him.

His fingertips slide my robe off one shoulder and brush my hair aside.

Kissing my exposed skin, he inhales deeply as he works his way up my neck, sending goosebumps shooting over my flesh when he plants a sweet kiss beneath my ear.

“When I was staring at that perfect little arse of yours, I couldn’t even remember my name, let alone recall rules.

” His teeth capture my earlobe and tug. “Lucky you’d just been a very naughty girl. ”

Flames lick at my face and ignite between my legs.

Giving me a wicked smile, he grazes his thumbs across my burning cheeks. “You’re so adorably sexy.”

“S-sorry?”

“Blushing like that when I’ve made you come with my fingers inside you. When you’ve had your hand around my cock … I think we’re past the point of embarrassment due to a few words.”

I blink at him, amazed I haven’t spontaneously combusted. “Talking to me like that … I—”

“You don’t like it?”

“I think I might like it … way too much,” I admit.

He beams, releases my face and grips my backside in his large hands, drawing me right up against him. God, he’s hard, and I’m wet, and we’re stuck in the twilight zone under my vengeful little sister’s rule.

“How do you like all those extra functions I have compared that toy of yours?” he asks with a satisfied smirk.

“Hmm, well, I suppose they’re okay. Though, you forgot to ask if my toy is as big as you are.”

“That’s because I already know the answer.”

Then he kisses me, his lips gentle and sweet, his rapid breaths telling me he’s holding back. And I don’t want him to. Fisting my hands in his t-shirt, I swipe my tongue across his lower lip and am rewarded with a deep rumble before his tongue finds mine.

Damn he feels so good, tastes so good, does such wonderful things to my body that I never dreamed I’d experience in my life. Feeling like I’m the one who now wants to drag him to the floor, I release his t-shirt and reluctantly finish the kiss.

“Your coffee’s getting cold,” I remind him.

Refusing to release me, he grins. “Is that your way of saying we need to cool it?”

“If we don’t, I think we might start a kitchen fire.”

He drops his forehead to mine, cups my face and nudges our noses. “Just getting to kiss you is a goddamn miracle.”

My stomach flips at his words, at the intimate way he’s holding me. And I can’t help myself. I kiss him again. His needy growl vibrates against my mouth, the kiss deepening as our hips grind and sway, sending sparks flying all over again.

This time, he breaks away first, his chest heaving against mine as he fights for control. “Well, I suppose we shouldn’t burn the house down just yet. Not while there’s a secret to uncover.”

I huff out a frustrated sigh and step back, hating the cool air that seeps into all the places his body kept me warm.

Just like he does every morning, he moves aside, giving me access to the coffee machine.

“So, what’s the plan?” he asks. “I’m presuming we’ll wait until you get home from work before—”

“Oh, I’m not going to work today.”

He lets out a long, relieved sigh and grins. “Thank God. I was kind of nervous about being alone with that sadistic sister of yours.”

Smiling back, I get my coffee going, then do what I always do. I reach around him to grab a spoon from the drawer. Only this time, I slip my hand beneath his t-shirt and trail my fingertips across his back.

When I return to the coffee machine, he’s watching me with smouldering eyes.

“When can we expect the sadistic one to emerge?” he asks.

I snort out a laugh. “You know, she’d probably get a kick out of it if you called her that to her face.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.”

“Well, she’s still a teenager, and she was up pretty late, so I’d say she’ll probably emerge around lunchtime.”

He nods thoughtfully as I pick up my coffee and lean against the counter.

“How’d you like to give me a hand?” he asks.

He laughs when my eyebrows shoot up.

“I’m talking about another kind of job. Like helping me prep the side of the house so it’s ready for painting.”

Sounds like a great distraction. “I’d love to.”

“We should get cracking before it gets too hot. Put your swimmers on under your clothes. Trust me, you’ll want to dive straight in the pool when we’re done.”

Ten minutes later, after choosing a pair of swimmers Anika won’t have a fit over, then dressing in an old t-shirt and shorts, we make our way around to the side of the house.

With Benny’s help, they’ve already completed the rear and the other side, where Gavin and Anika’s bedrooms are located, so we won’t be disturbing sleeping beauty.

After showing me all the lower parts of the cladding that need sanding back and how to do it, Gavin hands me a pair of gloves.

“You’re not wearing any,” I point out.

“I don’t have exceptionally soft hands to protect.” He gives me a wink, then climbs up the ladder to deal with the flaking paint higher up.

Once we’ve completed all the sanding and we’re both drenched in sweat, Gavin unspools the garden hose and blasts the cladding. Then, with buckets of sugar soap, we wash the wall, ending up covered in bubbles as we step back to inspect our work.

“Hot enough for you?” he asks.

I swipe my hand across my wet brow. “I’m melting.”

I know it’s coming before it happens, but I still yelp as an arc of water hits my hip. When I turn to face him, he’s staring at the wall, arms crossed, the hand closest to me holding the hose nozzle.

Another stream of water suddenly hits me square in the chest.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” As I leap at him, he sprays me with the hose, sweeping it up and down my body without letting up.

Squealing, I turn and flee, his laughter close behind as water relentlessly drenches my hair, my back, my thighs. When I reach the pool, I jump into the deep end and sink to the bottom. A loud splash spins me around. Underwater, I watch as Gavin spears himself straight at me.

His arms wrap around my waist, and we break the surface, laughing as I wrap my arms around his neck and he guides us toward the shallow end until we can stand.

When he tugs at my t-shirt, I raise my arms and let him drag the water-logged material over my head.

Our eyes locked, he tosses it over to the pavers.