Jenny Reese has been crushing on her older brother’s best friend for years. Spencer has barely noticed her. And why would he? Hot guys never look at curvy girls as anything but friends. They’d never been even that. But when he discovers her working as a waitress at Randy’s Diner, Jenny fears the news of her questionable employment will reach her conservative family’s ears before she’s had time to pay off her tuition.
Life is finally catching up with Spencer Atkinson. His lack of a career, steady girlfriend, and future prospects has worried everyone but him until his younger brother marries first. Discovering his best friend’s little sister working the bachelor party rocks Spencer’s world in more ways than one. Now the one girl he should never lust after is the only thing he can think about.
Spencer was all thumbs as his fingers worked at the plastic buttons holding Jenny’s shirt around her torso. He’d only meant to unfasten her but not look. She’d been right about his brother’s friends thinking something was up. They would have to appear as if they were having fun or one of them would threaten to take her from him.
He’d not counted on how tight the damn garment had been. Each disc he unfastened sent the cotton gaping wider than the last until he couldn’t see much beyond the creamy skin he’d revealed.
His eyes slipped closed to avoid looking. Sightlessness lasted until she spoke.
“You have to do more than that if you’re going to quiet suspicion,” Jenny whispered into his ear. The puff of hot air whizzed through his ear canal, drawing his balls tight.
He wanted to do much more and none of it to quiet suspicion. That was why he wasn’t going to do anything at all.
But he couldn’t resist just one touch while he had her here. Spencer nudged the fabric aside until he could see her waist. He slipped his fingers within, caressing the puckered white scar where she’d fallen off her bike into a broken fence when she was nine. He’d found her that day bleeding and trying not to cry even as she feared moving.
How could he have forgotten he’d met her first?
Jenny shifted atop him, twisting until she faced him head on. His gaze met hers even as he attempted to ignore her hips straddling his and the sudden jerking of his erection within his jeans. What stared back at him was not Jenny Rees. He’d never seen this woman. This was J—Randy’s waitress. He could easily imagine how she’d made four hundred dollars in an hour. If he’d had that kind of cash lying around, he’d have given it to her simply to keep her where she was for the rest of the night.
“There’s three more buttons,” she said at full volume. “Let me help you with them.”
No. He wanted to do it.
Spencer caught her hands in midair.
No! He didn’t want it done at all!
This shouldn’t be happening. This was Michael’s little sister.
Michael’s little sister lifted her hand until his knuckles reached her lips. She pressed a small kiss to the one above his index finger. That same worldly expression he’d seen a glimpse of a moment ago filled her eyes.
Something had happened to Jenny since she left the homestead.
She lifted her hand and deposited his palm on her shoulder. Caught between her sensual web and his own musings, Spencer let her disengage his grip. He didn’t stop her when she circled the third button from the top.
Mute with need, Spencer said nothing while she worked the plastic through the hole. His silence continued on to the second button from the top. But it didn’t last.
“Christ,” he hissed. His hands once again caught hers. “You’re not wearing a bra!”
Emotion flared in her eyes, anger perhaps. Spencer might have known what it was if she hadn’t shocked him with her next motion. Jenny set one hand above his so she could peel his fingers up, and then when she had control, she shoved it under her shirt. Her digits forced his palm over one generous bare breast. He sat stunned and unable to move—unable to do anything but experience the perfect warmth of her.
Proving once again she wasn’t the girl he’d thought her to be, J pressed her chest against his grip. A quiet gasp emitted from her gently parted lips that woke every primal urge within him.
Spencer struggled not to rip her panties from her to see if he could draw that noise from her again. Instead he tried to pull back. This time her grip remained steady on his.
Pink lips formed words he worked hard to hear. “Just pretend I’m someone else.”
That would be impossible. Even with a worldly alter ego staring at him from familiar eyes, Spencer could never imagine this female was anyone other than who she was.
She stretched forward, pushing herself further into his palm. Spencer tried not to memorize the weight of her breast, the silky texture, the perfect temperature. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should have set her on her feet minutes ago.
But then Larry would have been all over her. His teeth ached simply thinking of that pairing.
“And I’ll pretend you’re someone else too.”
Spencer tightened his grip on the hand he still held. “Why? Am I so old you have to pretend I’m someone hotter?”
She released a shaky, bell-like laugh that was so spectacularly Jenny that his cock strained toward her.
Despite his grip on her hand, Jenny pushed the final button through its hole. The cotton spread wide. Though he’d been awaiting her answer, he couldn’t resist looking down.
Spencer’s mouth went dry at the rosy little nipple perked up at attention atop the full creamy breast. He’d known she’d grown into a beautiful woman but his imagination hadn’t done her justice. He licked his lips without realizing it.
Anya Breton is a web monkey with an obsession for nail polish and rubber chickens. Her fears include Peeps and people who hate clowns. She lives in the Midwest with her significant other.
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