Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 155(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 103(@300wpm)
“Sierra, is that you?” he calls through the door.
“How do you know my name?”
“Sierra, it’s me, Slater.”
I pause and stare at the door for a long moment, my mind spinning. I couldn’t have heard what I thought I heard.
“Slater?” I call.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“What’s your last name?” I ask suspiciously.
“Kirkland. I’m your brother Derek’s best friend. I’ve known you since you were six, and you were living in the house over on Ash Street. You had a dog named Biscuit—a Jack Russell Terrier.”
I was honestly so startled when he stepped into the bathroom that I didn’t really get a look at him. But everything he said is correct. I haven’t seen Slater in a few years, but it seems kind of silly for me to think somebody would have memorized all that information just to fool me. Especially given that if he were really a stranger there to do terrible things to me, he wouldn’t have stepped out of the bathroom when I told him to.
“Do I pass the test?” he calls through the door with a laugh.
“Well … yeah. I guess,” I say. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to work on the bathroom. Derek told me—”
“Well, I’m using it right now,” I cut him off.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
Now that I’ve had a minute to get my head straight, I realize I did, in fact, recognize him as Slater Kirkland. I stifle a giggle as my face grows warm, and I take a quick peek at myself in the mirror, cringing when I see the unnatural shade of red in my cheeks. He saw me naked. I cannot believe Slater Kirkland saw me naked. Not just that, but that he stood there staring at me for way longer than I was comfortable with. I mean, he got a full-frontal view of my naked body … and lingered. The thought of it makes my face grow even warmer, and as uncomfortable as it makes me, a faint smile curls my lips.
I wipe the smile away and stuff all the emotions surging inside of me down. The fact of the matter is that right now, I’m naked. I’m naked, and a man I haven’t seen in years is standing on the other side of the door, and all my clothes are in the bedroom across the hall. I can’t get from here to there without him seeing me in nothing but a towel. He’s my brother’s best friend, and that’s just not appropriate, like, at all.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Well, I didn’t jump out the window.”
“That’s good to know,” he replies with a chuckle.
“But you need to go. I’m not dressed.”
“Yeah, I noticed that too.”
The heat returns to my cheeks, as does the smile, making me silently chastise myself. I can’t help it. Slater is every bit as hot as I remember. Six-two with broad shoulders and a lean, fit, and chiseled body. He looks like he was sculpted from marble. His ash-blond hair is stylishly wavy and falls to his shoulders, and his intense silver-blue eyes still send ripples of delight through my body. His beard, slightly darker than the hair on his head, is short and trimmed, making him look even more amazing. I was a pre-teen when I developed my crush on him and, over the years, have apparently done nothing to diminish it.
“You need to go, Slater.”
“You sure? I can get your clothes for you.”
I laugh to myself. “I’m sure. But thank you for the offer.”
“All right, well, I’m in unit one if you need me for anything,” he says. “I’ll come back later to work on the bathroom.”
“Call first.”
“I’ll do that.”
His deep, rumbling laughter echoes down the hallway as he goes. I hear him say something, probably to Monty, and a couple of moments later, the front door closes. Smiling to myself, I lean against the bathroom door and bury my face in my hands.
“Oh my God,” I say and laugh.
3
SLATER
After grabbing a beer, I sink back into my chair, flip on the tube, and quickly find a ballgame. Not that I’m really paying attention to the TV. I just need the background noise to distract me from my current train of thought, which, of course, is Sierra Kelly. She is definitely not the same little girl I used to know. That little girl has grown up into a goddamn sexy woman with a round, squeezable ass and full tits I’d kill to have my hands and mouth on.
Five-two and petite but with curves for days, she’s got a college sorority girl-slash-cheerleader look that turns me on, with green eyes that sparkle like emeralds. I close my eyes and think about having those full, heart-shaped lips pressed to mine—not to mention on other parts of my body—and feel my cock stiffening almost immediately.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself.
I know I should put a pin in these thoughts. Like right now. She’s my best friend’s kid sister. Shit, I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about her simply because I knew her when she was literally a little girl. Granted, I’m only ten years older than she is, but given the fact that I’ve known her since she was like, basically in diapers, makes it kind of creepy. At least, it should. Probably.