More Than Lies (More Than #1)(30)

I advance forward, shoving him backwards into the wall. “Touch her and I’ll break you, motherfucker.”

Could I take Mason on? Sure. Could I win the fight? Maybe. Mason and I are almost the same height and weight. He’s an inch or two shorter, but we have the same build.

“Both of you cut this shit out.” Kylie’s voice rings out. She pushes me off, away from her brother. Kylie’s little, but don’t let that fool you. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in brains and mouth. She also knows how to handle Mason and me, and I can assure you, she isn’t the least bit intimidated by our size. Kylie has no reason to be. Both of us would do anything for this woman who has her palms on the center of our chests at this very moment.

“I’m done here,” I say, taking a step back, eyeing Mason before turning and going into Trent and Kylie’s room to retrieve Tara’s bag. Once I have it I come back out. Kylie and Mason have cleared out, but Trent is waiting on me.

Fucking A.

I blow out a breath as I shut his door.

“What do you want? I have a drunk girl to attend to seeing how you won’t handle your sister.”

“Are you saying you’re not the man for the job?” What is he talking about?

Trent loves riddles. It’s stupid as hell.

“Look dude, if you have something to say, say it. I don’t need you going around the world to get your point across.” Why can’t people just say what they mean? What is the point in all the other shit?

“For whatever reason, Taralynn likes you, so maybe it’s time you grow a pair and do something about it before someone else does.”

“Did it ever cross your mind that I don’t want her?”

“It did, but then again, you’ve always been a lying little shit.” With those last words, he turns and walks off. Probably the best thing he could have done. I don’t want Tara to wake up and discover that I beat up her brother.

I enter Shane’s bedroom. Tara is still lying on the bed, but she’s rolled onto her side. She would offer me such a fine view of her ass.

Crossing over to the bed, I place her bag down on top of the mattress then I look her over. Man, she has one fine ass body. I’ve got to get it covered before my dick no longer has breathing room inside my pants.

Looking away from her and down into her bag, I move things around until I find a T-shirt and pajama pants. No way am I putting a tank top on her tonight. Holding up the T-shirt I can already tell it isn’t going to be long enough so I toss it back into the bag. Not needing it any longer, I move the bag onto the floor.

I then crawl into the bed with Tara. When I gently roll her onto her back she doesn’t make a sound. She’s out cold. That’s a good thing for me because turning her down, even drunk, is getting old.

I place her pants to the side and pull my own T-shirt over my head. Assessing Tara, I try to decide the best way to undress her and re-dress her without causing myself any more discomfort. I don’t see a win-win here. Even if I don’t see a thing, I have a very vivid imagination when it comes to the woman lying in front of me.

This is going to be one long ass night.

I pull my T-shirt over Tara’s head and proceed to pull her arms through each hole. Her bathing suit is a halter top, so that’s easy. I untie it and then reach under the shirt, with my eyes closed tight, to pull the material down her body. I stop before I breach her center, that’s when I open my eyes. I need to make sure she is still covered.

I may be a dick, an asshole for sure, but I’d never take advantage of her in any way. My T-shirt comes down almost to her mid-thigh, but it’s not covering her because I had my arms under it to pull her suit down. I adjust and then finish taking off her damp bathing suit. I toss it behind me so it lands on the floor. I quickly pull on her pants, lifting her slightly to pull them over her butt.

Once done, I pull the cover out from beneath her body so I can cover her.

I fall onto my back on top of the covers and lie next to her. I don’t know how I’m going to get any sleep being this close to perfection. The smell of Tara is all around me, smothering all other scents. It’s not helping the hardness inside my shorts.

I force my eyes to close.

It’s hours later before I’m able to doze off.





CHAPTER SEVEN





TARALYNN





Two uneventful weeks flew by after we returned from our weekend at my brother’s. Shawn has been acting like a douchebag ever since. Mostly he’s been avoiding me, but when he is home, he’s a brooding dickhead.

He may have saved me from making a major mistake with Mason the night of Kylie’s party, but I’m not about to go telling him that. Frankly, I’d like to forget that ever happened. It’s not that Mason isn’t attractive. He’s more than attractive, in both looks and personality department. I mean, the man is gorgeous, but even more important is he’s funny as all get out. However, Mason and I as a couple? I just don’t see him that way, unless of course, I’ve had a bottle of tequila.

Gosh darn Patron.

If I didn’t need something from Shawn, I wouldn’t be waiting around the studio late on a Friday evening. I was supposed to work tonight at Mac’s pub, but I called in feigning a headache.

Shawn is cleaning up his station when I walk over. The only other person still here is Kenny, and his station is toward the front of the large room, near the receptionist’s area.