Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(49)

“Blood flow?”

“Yes, and that means you’ll get turned on faster.”

“Oh, God,” Kayla whispers, but for some reason that makes me want to laugh—or go out and buy a peach orchard.

“Exactly, dear. It will help get you primed. That way, my White doesn’t have to do all the work,” she says calmly. Kayla looks around the room. I’m not sure if she’s looking for alcohol to put in her peach drink, or an exit. An exit might be the best option.

“Mom, I think you’ve gone too far.”

“Really, White Hall? Then why was there no action coming from your room last night? It’s a sad day when one of my sons can’t manage to do his duty with his woman.”

Blue and Cyan are laughing like little girls in school. I’m definitely going to wear my fists out on their faces later. Kayla looks up at me, and she might be bright pink with embarrassment, but the smile on her face, even as she’s desperate to get us out of this conversation, soothes me.

“Thanks for worrying, Mom. But I can assure you that my soldiers and I are raring to go. Kayla just didn’t feel comfortable and was quiet. She was afraid someone would hear us.”

“White!” Kayla cries, and I grin.

“Hear you? Why would anyone be listening to you two? That’s just silly,” she dismisses and I have to bite my tongue from pointing out that she obviously was listening last night.

“Let’s just let it drop, Mom. Kayla and I are good.”

“Fine, son. If you aren’t going to have your shake, at least have some watermelon,” she says, putting a large bowl of cut melon in front of me. I’m unsure what watermelon is supposed to do, but at least I know it will taste okay. I look over at Kayla and shrug. Ida Sue sits a bowl of melon in front of her too.

“Here you go, Buttercup,” she says loudly and then bends down between us. She drops her voice down a tone or two, but it’s still plenty loud enough for everyone to hear—especially Blue, who is right beside us. “Don’t worry. Watermelon is like nature’s Viagra.”

Kayla nearly chokes—suddenly looking at the watermelon in her hand as if it has grown three heads. Me? I may never look at watermelon the same again. I plop a whole piece in my mouth and leer at Kayla. I’m foreseeing becoming addicted to watermelon.





CHAPTER 35


KAYLA




"Oh, no. Stay away from me, White Hall," I order White when he comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and a smile.

"No way."

"Yes way! We are not having sex with your mother listening to see if your soldiers make a successful swim."

"Into the lakes of Kayla Graham?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows like a dork, but looking so fine and sexy that he could melt any female around.

"Very funny. Now put on your jogging pants and let’s get some sleep."

Instead of listening to me, he half-jumps, half-falls onto the bed beside me, his stomach down. I try to ignore the curve of his ass and how beautiful it is. I even manage to resist the urge to squeeze it—barely.

"I'm sorry, Kayla, but I can't in good conscience go along with your plan," he says very solemnly, looking at me like he's completely serious, except his eyes are shining. The blue is filled with humor and mischief. This is the White Hall who I fell in love with as a kid and the White Hall who makes my heart smile now. White wears many faces in public, but I like to think that the big kid inside is only revealed to those he truly cares about.

"And why is that, dare I ask?" I question, shaking my head and trying to hold back a yawn.

"If I don't f*ck you so hard that you literally make the neighbors call the cops, my mother will be trying to feed me more of that pea green soup from hell. That cannot happen."

"I am not having sex with your mom's ear pinned to the outside wall. That cannot happen," I counter. "Besides, I really am too tired for sex."

"You've left me no other choice, Buttercup," White says, getting up from the bed and going to the wall. He turns to the side to face the post on the headboard, holding it with his hands. It's hard to miss the way his dick comes out with the head curving down because, well… he's huge. How he ever fit inside me, I do not know. I really do have this voice in the back of my head questioning just how big he is every time I see him. He can't be the normal size of men everywhere. If he is, my past sex life is even sadder than I already thought it was.

"What are you going to do, White Hall? Hump the headboard? That watermelon really did do a number on you," I reply, trying to sound bored, and I'm pretty sure I'm failing—mainly because I'm wondering where I can find a tape measure.

"The only number that watermelon did to me today is keep me going to the bathroom—and not for usual fun. Watermelon is not nature’s Viagra. If anything, it's nature's Ex-Lax."

"Oh, God."

"It's true."

"With bedroom talk like this, I can't figure out why I'm not just raring to go."

"I know right? You should be bowing at my feet and calling me master."

"I think you have the wrong girl for that kind of fantasy."

"Story of my life," he says and then he grabs the post and slams it against the wall.