Especially when he’d explicitly ordered her to stay out of it.
She was about to turn around and abandon the plan when she heard a loud thump, as if something—or someone—had slammed into a wall. Fighting a flicker of apprehension, she crept forward. All the lights were off, and the house’s layout was still unfamiliar to her, making her feel disoriented as she tiptoed her way back to the main entrance. She rounded a corner, peered at the shadowy doorway—and froze.
Holy fucking shit.
Claire’s jaw fell open. Eyes widened. Brain kicked into overdrive, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Clearly she was hallucinating.
Right. She had to be. Because no way was she witnessing Dylan kissing another man.
She blinked a few times, but the scene in front of her didn’t disappear in a puff of hallucination smoke. There he was. Dylan Wade, her fiancé’s infuriatingly sexy, self-absorbed brother.
Kissing another man.
Claire blinked again, focused on the dark-haired guy whose lips were glued to Dylan’s. She couldn’t see his face, but his body was equally hard and incredible, and the two men were going at it like they had one minute left to live and they planned on making every last second count.
The punch of lust that hit her was completely unexpected. But…oh sweet Lord, shock and confusion aside, this might actually be the hottest thing she’d ever seen in her life.
“You sleep with anyone else this summer?” The question came from Dylan’s visitor. Or, Dylan’s…lover?
Her thighs clenched at the thought.
“Yes.” Dylan’s raspy voice sent a shiver running through her and shot Claire up to a new level of arousal.
She shrank back into the shadows, ordering herself to walk away, to respect their privacy, to duck into her room and make herself come like right now, but she couldn’t tear her gaze off the two men. Their voices lowered for several moments, making it difficult to hear, so she studied their body language instead. The stranger had one hand on Dylan’s broad chest, the other behind Dylan’s neck. Dylan’s right palm rested on the other man’s shoulder, his left one idly stroking the man’s hip, and when they kissed again, the flash of tongue she glimpsed made her bite back a moan.
That moan damn near slipped out when the man spun Dylan around and pressed his groin against the SEAL’s ass.
A second later, Claire’s entire body went up in flames as she watched Dylan reverse positions so the dark-haired man was the one facing the wall now.
Her senses went on overload. She had no idea what to focus on. Their words? Their mouths? Their bodies?
She was so close to exploding she could barely think straight. She couldn’t believe she was watching her fiancé’s brother making out with another man, and suddenly a hundred questions started buzzing through her head.
Was Dylan gay?
Did Chris know?
Why was she so turned on?
The sound of a door clicking shut jarred her back to the present.
Dylan’s friend—lover?—was gone. The blond SEAL flicked the deadbolt, then turned around with a grin on his face.
A grin that dissolved the second he spotted Claire.
Their gazes locked. She could see the wariness swimming in his eyes.
Claire gulped. “I…”
Her gaze swiftly dropped to her feet. Oh man. What did one even say in a situation like this?
She opened her mouth and tried again. “I…” After a beat, she raised her head and met his gaze head-on. “I won’t say anything to Chris.”
Then she darted away before he could respond.
I won’t say anything to Chris?
She wanted to kick herself as she hurried back to the guest room. That was the best she could come up with?
In her defense, she was still too stunned to hold any sort of coherent conversation at the moment. Her heart continued to beat in a frantic rhythm, her mouth was drier than the Sahara, and her clit was actually aching. Pulsing. One touch away from orgasm. If she brought her hand between her legs right now, she would literally self-combust.
The bad girl in her wanted to let it happen. To picture Dylan’s tongue in that hottie’s mouth, slide her hand inside her panties and enjoy the results, but she forced herself to derail that train of crazy.
This was Chris’s brother. Chris’s gay brother? The same questions flashed through her mind again, but there was one in particular she couldn’t seem to let go of.
Why didn’t she and Chris have that? The passion. The intensity. That need to consume each other.
Dylan and his dark-haired stranger had craved each other on a primal level Claire had never experienced—or dreamed possible.