Hottest Mess (S.I.N. #2)(18)

He just points toward the house.

“How the hell do you expect to pull off your Playboy of the Western World routine without a girl who’s not your sister in your bed?”

“Go,” he repeats. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Fine.” I take a step toward the door. “But we’ll talk when we get upstairs.”

“Sweetheart, talking is the last thing on my mind.”

Oh.

I pause just long enough to take in his words.

Then I do as he says, and go.





Bitch in Satin Sheets

I can’t deny that I’m in a good mood as I head to the bedroom. I don’t know what he thinks he can possibly do, but if he says that he has a way to keep the playboy reputation without getting naked with any of those women, then I’m all for that plan.

I take the back stairs, just as I did earlier to get to my old bedroom. This time, though, I go all the way to the third floor and enter at the far end of the residential section of the hallway.

From this perspective, the master bedroom is on my right and Dallas’s home office is on the left. I consider skipping the bedroom and going to his office—not only because the idea of disobeying him amuses me, but also because the thought of fooling around on top of his desk has a certain appeal—but I decide against it. Maybe one day I’ll suggest we play secretary and boss. Right now, I want to be between those sheets where I belong.

I’m actually reaching back for the zipper of my skirt as I push open the door—and I stop cold when a female voice says, “Hey, baby. I’ve been waiting for—Oh!”

I freeze, confused. But my confusion is quickly being replaced by anger. And humiliation. And hurt. And a whole load of other emotions that I can’t easily identify, but they sure as hell don’t feel good.

“Jane?” From the bed, a woman gapes at me. And as soon as I realize it’s Fiona, I gape back. Because she’s here. And also because she’s naked. “What are you doing here?” she asks, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts.

I realize my mouth is hanging open. I close it, then swallow before answering. I need the time to remember how to form words. “I—I didn’t realize Dallas had anyone with him. I was—I mean, I just got a text from our parents that I need to talk to him about, so I thought I’d wait for him here.”

I clear my throat, thinking the lie sounds pretty reasonable. “I, um, didn’t think he’d be with anybody, but considering my brother’s reputation, I guess I should have known better.”

She doesn’t look offended at being labeled one of very, very many. On the contrary, she just laughs. “Isn’t that the damn truth? But like I told you downstairs, we’ve had our share of good times. Now I’m just waiting for another.” She cocks her head and smiles prettily. “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him. Or are you planning to just hang here. With me.”

She doesn’t look pleased by the possibility. I’m not crazy about it, either. Frankly, I want to get as far from this room—and from Dallas—as it’s possible to get. Because right now, I’m angry enough that my fist might just break that very pretty face of his.

“No.” My voice is shaky, and I clear my throat. “No, I don’t need to wait. I’ll just go back to the city. I’ll call him tomorrow. That’s soon enough.” And maybe that’ll give me time to cool off. Frankly, I doubt it.

I head back to the door, yank it open, and find myself staring right at the man himself.

At any other time, his wicked smile would melt me. Right now, it infuriates me. But before I can say anything, he starts to slide his arm around my waist.

Some sort of self-preservation instinct kicks in and I slam my elbow into his gut, making him both release me and groan.

“Jesus, Jane. What the—”

“Hey, baby.”

He goes completely still, then looks at the bed. Then looks at me. “What the f*ck?”

I’m so tense I think I might shatter. “Actually, I think that’s my line.”

I grab his arm and yank him into the hallway, then turn back to Fiona with what I hope looks like a genuine smile. “Actually, I’ll just talk to him now about that text our parents sent, and then I’ll get out of your hair so you two can have your fun.”

“Take your time,” Fiona says easily. “I’m comfy, and your brother’s most definitely worth the wait.”

I do not race back to the bed and smack her for that. I also don’t punch Dallas in the jaw. On the whole, I think I’m showing remarkable restraint.

What I do instead is drag him across the hall and into his study.

I slam the door behind us, then smack him in the chest with the heel of my hand. “What the f*ck?” I yell. I know for a fact that this office was professionally soundproofed. I can yell as loud as I want and no one will be the wiser.

“You stupid, f*cking son of a bitch,” I rant. “Do you think sex games are going to prove some sort of point to me? Was that just a flat-out lie about not having them in your bed anymore? Or did you mean you weren’t going to have them alone? Is this where you want us to go, Dallas? Is a threesome the kink you need? Is Fiona—Fiona—the dark you’re going to take me down into?”

I see emerald fire flash in his eyes, and know that I’ve pissed him off. Well, good. At least that makes us well-matched.