When Our Worlds Stand Still (Our Worlds #3)(34)

A sheen of sweat builds on my body from the urge fighting to win over my mind. I ghost my lips over the spot behind her ear but pull away.

“Nice try.” I walk to my room but turn to address her once more. “Blankets are in the hallway closet. Hope you don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”





What the fuck?

I’m in the middle of the hallway in my underwear, and he leaves me here?

I think he’s had a change of heart when the door opens behind me. His head peeks out, and when he locates me, a sinful grin crosses his face.

“Here’s your clothes.” The balled up material hits me hard in the stomach, and I let them fall to the floor. He gazes at my chest. “It gets cold in the house at night.” With a wave of his fingers, he’s gone.

“Goodnight, Graham,” I call through his door, pulling on my pants and shirt.

“Night, Ken.” His quiet laughter is evidence he’s having as much fun as I am.

As I traipse down the steps, taking extra caution to make sure I don’t fall, the dark living room envelops me. The only light comes through the sheer curtains. The soft material of the couch soothes me. I curse the boy upstairs and then laugh because this is typical of us.

We’re a constant push and pull. Still, somehow we work. We’ve always worked. This is who Graham and I are. We challenge and test. We breathe life into each other. The cat and mouse game we play is our way of teasing each other.

Graham has always had this ability to bring me to the brink. This time is no different. He’s attempting to bring me to the edge, hoping I’ll jump, but what he doesn’t know is I’m willing to resist my need to feel him above me to prove my point. A point I’m not sure of yet, but I know, deep down, there’s got to be a reason for this torture. There has to be.

*****

The loud sun streaming through the curtains wakes me. I press my face into the cushion. Soft material slips down my bare arm.

“You looked cold last night.”

Graham’s voice startles me. I roll over and peer at him through sleep-heavy eyes.

“How would you know? If I remember, and correct me if I’m wrong, you slammed your bedroom door in my face.” I yawn and stretch as I plant my feet on the ground. With purpose, I stick my chest out. Graham’s eyes melt over me. When I’m alert enough to really look at him, his bare chest is dripping with sweat. “Have you been running?”

“Graham finds it to be a great release, especially since he hasn’t gotten any in many, many moons,” Rick explains, bursting through the room, but taking the time to grip Graham’s sweaty shoulders. He gives him a quick shake, then runs to the kitchen.

Graham gives a non-committal shrug. “It’s a good way to release some pent-up energy, and since you won’t be helping me in that department anytime soon, I figured I might as well.”

My hand ghosts through the air in the direction of his tight abs. At the sight, my mouth waters. “Explains why you’re in such good shape.” The compliment squeaks out in a bare whisper.

Graham runs his hands over his taut chest. I have to hold myself back from reaching across the table and doing the exact same thing to him.

Graham breaks me from my daydream. “Like what you see, Ken?”

I blink the desire from my eyes, remembering our little bet. His smirk tells me I’m unsuccessful, and he’s aware of my need to touch him. “I’ve always liked what I saw.” I stand and prance over to him, standing behind the high back chair. My arms wrap around his shoulders, not caring about the sweat transferring onto my skin. My hands skim his chest, stopping at his waistband. “Unlike you, though, I have some self-control.”

We both look down at the tightened material of his gym shorts. As I walk away, I grab a throw pillow off the couch and toss it onto his lap, covering the evidence.

“Kennedy.” His chair scrapes against the hardwood floor, and I stop on the stairs and face him. He stands proudly with his hands by his side. My eyes dip below his waist. “He knows what he wants, is all. It has nothing to do with self-control.”

I take a deep breath, fully registering the outline of his dick. He chuckles when my tongue wets my lips. He strides to where I stand on the bottom step, bringing us nearly eye to eye. “Maybe you’re the one having trouble with self-control.” His finger grazes between my breasts down to skim the apex of my legs. “You’re wet.”

“Ugh!” I groan, stomping up the stairs

“Going to change your cute little boy shorts?” Graham leans over the banister to taunt me.

I curse the entire flight of stairs. How does he do that? “Goddammit.”

“I guess you and Graham are still going at it this morning.” Amanda startles me as I turn the corner in the hallway.

“He’s impossible, I swear.” I huff.

He glides by me, making sure to trail his finger over my lower back, and enters his room. The open door gives me the perfect vantage point to his sweaty striptease.

She laughs, following my stare. “What do you expect? There’s a lot of pent-up sexual tension locked in that hot little body. It’s bound to burst out in sarcasm and manipulation.”

“He’s not manipulating me.” I allow the idea to soak in. “Is he?” I lean forward to find his room now empty. The shower runs in the background.