There. She’d given him ninety-five percent of the truth. The other five percent? Well, that was none of his damn business.
Jack went quiet, his contemplative expression telling her that he was going over the details of her story in that caveman head of his.
“I believe you,” he finally said.
“Hot dog! Gee, thank you so much. I can live out the rest of my life knowing Jack the Magnificent believes I’m not a liar.” Rolling her eyes, she jabbed a finger at his abandoned yogurt. “I swear to God, if you don’t finish that in the next three seconds, I’m taking it.”
He sighed, drawing her attention to his muscular chest. The black wifebeater he wore was so tight it outlined every last ripple on his washboard stomach, and his bare arms were equally ripped, heavy forearms resting on the counter.
“Fine, it’s all yours,” he grumbled. “I’ve lost my appetite anyway.”
With a broad smile, she snatched the yogurt and polished it off while Jack sat across from her scowling the whole time.
Three more bacon strips and two cups of coffee later, she hopped off the stool, adjusting the bottom of her towel with one hand as she carried her plate to the sink.
She was about to rinse it off when something buzzed. Jack’s cell phone, sitting on the counter next to the sink.
“Oooh, you have a text message from—” she peered at the screen, “—Charlene. Here, let me read it to you in my best Charlene voice.”
Jack raced to intercept her, but Pepper had his phone in her hand before he could.
“Hey, sugar, dinner at my place tonight?” Pepper said in her breathiest voice.
“Gimme that,” Jack snapped.
She held the phone out of his reach. “Charlene sounds real nice, sugar. Is she your girlfriend?”
“No.” His voice was terse.
“Fuck buddy, then?”
“None of your damn business,” he ground out. “Now hand over the frickin’ phone.”
Laughing, Pepper tossed him the BlackBerry. But she’d forgotten about her current attire, and by thrusting her arm out like that, she’d caused the top of her towel to come loose.
A second later, the terrycloth dropped to the kitchen floor.
Very, very naked.
His best friend’s little sister was naked.
In the back of his mind, it occurred to him that he might’ve just penned a very nice haiku, but Jack was too busy seeing Pepper naked to count all the syllables and find out.
Hollywood SFX invaded his kitchen and time slowed down, which was good because he couldn’t decide where to look first. Even as his gaze caressed Pepper’s astonishingly full rack, he knew he wasn’t supposed to be looking in the first place.
Only there didn’t seem to be a way to stop himself. He tried, he really did, but she had nipples. Pale pink ones, like candy floss, with teeny little points rising up that would be perfect for catching between his teeth as her sweetness invaded his system.
And she had hips—his gaze jumped to take advantage before his conscience won the current fight it was waging with his libido—and she was curvy enough to trigger instantaneous fantasies about stroking his palms over the luscious surface before digging his fingers in as he moved her over him.
Between her legs, red curls were trimmed into a heart, the point at the bottom aimed like an arrow toward a clean-shaven pussy…
…and that was the final fucking straw.
Time whooshed back to full speed so rapidly Jack got lightheaded. Something slammed into his chest before falling to the floor with a clatter. He wasn’t sure if he deliberately moved forward, or if it was the head rush that knocked him off his feet. Either way, he ended up damn near diving for the towel, grabbing it the same instant Pepper knelt, her fingers catching hold of his.
His head snapped up, and he came eye to eye with her breasts, her rapid breathing making them move mesmerizingly before him. Like a snake charmer, pulling him nearer and nearer until he was far too tempted to do something very un-big-brotherly.
Pepper jerked the fabric from him, shooting to her feet and tucking the fabric against her torso. “I’m capable of picking up my own towel,” she snapped. “Your phone is behind you. Charlene is waiting for an answer.”
He wasn’t going to allow her to distract him. Jack’s mouth had gone dry, but now that Pepper was mostly covered up again he was able to concentrate. And it wasn’t the sexually tantalizing assault on his system that had sent all his instincts into overdrive. “Stop right there,” he ordered.
“What? I’m going to get dressed. Thanks for breakfast.” Pepper clutched the top of the towel with one hand, the other behind her back, probably trying to keep a bit of the material over her ass.
Her very fine ass—far finer than he wanted to admit, but right now?
“Let me see,” he snapped, closing in on her.
She pressed the towel harder to her chest. “Didn’t you get enough of an eyeful already? Jerk. You could have looked away or something.”