“It’s romance. It’s a love story, and sex is a part of life. There is nothing wrong with sex,” she repeats, as she fumbles over her words.
My cock that was only semi-hard for her earlier is hard as steel, and I don’t care that she knows it. Reaching down, I adjust myself, and her eyes grow wide when she sees why.
“My book turns you on?”
“No.”
“Brock, that’s—” She points at my dick. “I know what turned on looks like.”
“It’s not your book.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “You talking about romance and love, and—” I swallow hard. “Sex.”
“Me?” The surprise in her voice is evident.
“You, Joey. This is all for you.” I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. She’s Caleb’s little sister, and that alone makes her off-limits, but I can’t seem to stop myself where she’s concerned.
“What are you guys doing?” Caleb asks from behind me.
I can’t turn to face him, or he’s going to see exactly what I was thinking about doing to his little sister. “Talking books.” I hold up what I know now is a Kindle.
“Did he tell you he’s a closet reader? The guys used to give him shit for it in college.” Caleb chuckles.
“We hadn’t gotten that far,” Joey tells him.
“Oh, yeah. Read all the time on the way to and from games. I know he doesn’t look the part, but this one, he’s smart as hell. Anyway,” Caleb changes the subject, “let’s go grab something to eat. I’m starving.”
“I can make something,” Joey offers.
“Nah, tonight’s on me.”
“Can we order in? I’m not really dressed to go out.” She looks down at her outfit, and I want to say no shit, but I bite my tongue.
“Yeah, we can do that. How’s Chinese?”
“Good,” Joey and I reply at the same time.
“I’m on it,” Caleb says, backing out of the room. His heavy footfalls echo as he makes his way downstairs.
Stepping next to her bed, I hand her Kindle back to her and lean over so we’re eye to eye. We’re so close, it would take minimal effort for me to lean in and kiss her. “You’re gorgeous, Joey, but when you blush like that…” I shake my head, trying to find the words to describe it. “You take my breath away.” Knowing I need to get some distance between us, I stand, turn on my heel, and head back to my room. Sitting on the bed, I run through my stats once, twice, three times before my cock finally deflates. Something definitely feels different, and my gut tells me it’s Josephine Henderson.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Joey
“What the hell is that?”
I stop in the doorway and look down, watching as my cat skirts the outside of the living room before making her way slowly to where Brock sits on the couch. “That’s Hermione.”
“What’s a Hermione?”
I roll my eyes and take the opposite end of the couch, crossing my legs. “That’s my cat. You knew I had a cat.”
“I did not. Where the hell has she been?” Brock asks.
I shrug, watching as my adorable gray and white feline rubs against Brock’s legs.
“My room. She hides under my bed until I fall asleep and then tries to suffocate me by lying on my face,” Caleb grumbles from the recliner.
Brock doesn’t miss a beat. “First time I’ve heard you bitch about a little pussy on your face.”
The pun rolls off his tongue easily, and I can’t stop the bark of giggles that erupts from my mouth. I try to cover it with a cough, but it’s no use. The teenage boy in me found his inappropriate comment completely hilarious.
“Finally! Someone who finds me funny,” Brock declares, waving his hand in my direction.
“That’s because she just doesn’t know you yet. Give it time. She’ll be tired of your sick, twisted jokes too,” my brother states, kicking up the recliner. “Food should be here in ten. Whatcha guys wanna watch?”
“Harry Potter. Obviously Brock hasn’t seen it,” I reply, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye.
“I thought those were for kids.”
“Ugh! They are most definitely not just for kids. I gave the books to Caleb a few years ago for Christmas. I’ll knock the dust off and let you read them. I’m sure they haven’t even been opened,” I say, glancing his way and finding his gaze intently focused on me.
“Thanks. I’ll read them.” Something in the way he states that lets me know he will.
The alarm sounds, letting us know someone’s here. Caleb jumps up, pulls money from his wallet, and heads to the front door. When he returns, he has three bags of cartons and a big smile on his face. “I may have gone overboard.”
“Don’t care. I’m starving,” I say, reaching for the bags to help.
While I lay everything out on the coffee table, my brother retrieves plates and forks. “What do you want to drink?” he hollers from the kitchen.
Brock glances at me, question in his gorgeous blue eyes. They’re not dark like sapphires but more light blue, like the ocean. “Oh, uh, just water.”
“Two waters!” he yells to Caleb, who returns a few minutes later with what we need.
I grab a plate for an egg roll, crab Rangoon, and a spear of teriyaki chicken, and then one of the cartons of vegetable low mein.
When I get positioned on my corner of the couch, Brock asks, “You aren’t even going to share? Just take the whole carton, huh?”
Caleb laughs as I move the food away from his roaming eyes. “Joey doesn’t share food.”
I can’t help but laugh at his Friends quip, but mostly because it’s true. “This is my absolute favorite dish. That’s why Caleb orders two, so he can have some. If you’d like some of this delicious vegetable low mein, you’re gonna have to share his,” I state, pointing my chopstick toward my brother.
Brock gives me sad, wounded eyes. “I’m hurt you wouldn’t share with me,” he says, dumping the contents of several cartons on his plate. He’s loaded up with more food than I could even think about consuming, but it’s honestly no different than my brother’s plate. It’s piled high too.
“You’ll learn to not get so offended when Joey refuses to share. She can’t help she’s cold-hearted,” my brother teases with a huge grin.
“Says the big loser who can’t eat his food with chopsticks,” I mumble, shoveling my first bite of my precious low mein into my mouth.
Brock barks out a laugh. “Don’t hold back, Joey.”
“So Caleb’s the only dummy who can’t use chopsticks?” I ask, watching Brock eat rice and orange chicken without so much as dropping a single piece.
“If you’re going to be mean, I’ll take my food into another room.” Caleb says.
“Then you don’t get seconds,” Brock replies, pointing a stick toward his friend.
“Fine, take her side. Just for that, I get to pick the movie.”