Too Sweet (Hayes Brothers #3)(5)

Instead of a drunk guy or a couple in the act, a pretty little blonde lies on her side, facing the door, wavy hair framing her calm face. Her eyes are closed, her cheek pressed into a pillow she flipped vertically and used for cuddling.

She looks even smaller on the California-King-sized bed, her tiny body curled under the white sheets in an almost fetal position. The soft, orange glow of the night lamp bathes her skin, and long eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. I guess she was reading in bed because a worn copy of some book lays on the floor as if she dropped it when she fell asleep.

Why is she in the guest bedroom instead of Cody’s room across the hall? Either he’s ashamed of the mess he made there since the maid came round yesterday, or Mia’s too shy to sleep beside him.

Neither sounds right...

Maybe she’s afraid of snakes. Logan’s python came to live with me when Cassidy moved in with him, but the huge vivarium didn’t work in the living room, so Cody happily relocated it, and the fifteen-foot monster, to his bedroom.

I lose interest in pondering the question when Mia stirs, nuzzling her nose deeper into the pillow.

I stand perfectly still. If she wakes up, I’m fucked.

Thankfully, she doesn’t.

I should leave. I read somewhere that the brain keeps a watch during sleep. It’ll be better if I’m not here if it detects my presence and wakes her up.

I flick off the night lamp, setting her book—“Alice in Wonderland” by Lewis Caroll—on the side table.

Ten seconds later, I’m out the door, leaving it cracked open like it was before I barged in like I own the place.

I do, but that’s beside the point.

Three steps away from the bedroom, I freeze again. My breath stalls as a loud gasp pierces the silent air; followed quickly by the ruffling of bedsheets, a quiet whimper, and frantic tapping of what I think is Mia’s hand against the bedside table before the night lamp flickers back on.

Music from the garden fills the house. Different music plays in my left ear, but my senses are suddenly so agile I hear every deep breath she takes before the sheets ruffle again, and the room falls silent.

Shit. That was close.

With a deep breath of my own, I take light, silent steps to the second floor. The sweet scent of artificial smoke from the club and the nauseating perfumes of the brunette who hung on my arm whenever I went to the bar lingers on my clothes and hair.

No way I’ll fall asleep smelling like cheap perfumes.

I strip, throw everything in the hamper, and step into the showcase shower. Hot water hits my back, relaxing my bunched muscles and steaming the glass. I rest my arm on the tiles, hanging my head low.

Instead of the tall, slim sex bomb with sleek, liquid chocolate hair I met at the club tonight, my thoughts loop around my brother’s little girl.

My guards are lowered in the comfort of my house, but when Mia’s lips flash before my eyes and my dick turns hard in no seconds flat, I’m beyond confused.

What the hell?

She’s blonde. I don’t care much for blondes.

She’s in college. I don’t deal with college chicks since I graduated college myself.

She’s short, shy, dainty... not my type, but here I am, sporting a raging hard-on.

That’s bad.

Very fucking bad.

Inappropriate.

I can’t think about her that way. She’s Cody’s. Out of my reach and—should be—off my radar.

My dick disagrees, twitching when more arousing images flicker on the edge of my consciousness: flushed cheeks, big, green irises, the inch of collarbone peeking above her blouse...

I fight my instincts for a few moments before I give in and grip the base of my cock, pumping up and down, every tight stroke painfully slow while I picture Mia lying on the piano stool, long hair cascading to the floor.

I pump faster, imagining her pink heels with little bows resting on my back, my face between her thighs, under her pink tulle skirt. I almost hear her moan in that soft voice, feel her skillful fingers tugging on my hair while she squirms on my lips until she cries out my name as she comes, satisfied and trembling.

“Fuck,” I groan, shuddering with release and shooting my load on the tiles, the orgasm so intense my knees buckle.

That’s not good.

Not good at all.

◆◆◆

The house is quiet when I descend the stairs around ten in the morning, ready for a workout. It didn’t slip my attention that the guest bedroom Mia occupied last night stood open, the room empty.

“Good morning,” Cody says, switching on the coffee maker. “What time did you get back?”

“Where’s your girl?” I counter, resting against the island. “I saw you put her in the guest bedroom last night.”

The only reason I say your girl is to check if he’ll correct me. It doesn’t seem likely, considering the love-sick puppy look is back. It’s odd. Mia’s not the triplets’ usual type. I’ve seen the girls they bring home. They’re nothing like Mia. They’re confident and chatty.

“I took her home an hour ago. I should’ve checked with you if she could stay the night, but it—”

Conor interrupts his monologue, entering the room, and rubbing sleep from his eyes, his curly hair a disgraceful mess. I use Cody’s sudden inability to finish a sentence to dismiss his upcoming apology with a wave of my hand.