Chapter Four

Curt

I wake up painfully hard.

The past few days have consisted of me trying not to pay mind to London's presence in my house. Yet her every action – hell, her very existence – affects me in the most complicated way. I keep trying to remember the little girl in pigtails that was my sister's best friend. It's a futile way to distract myself from this staggering attraction that I feel towards her. However, there's no reconciling the woman she's become with the girl she was.

Somehow, she's found her way to my dreams every night since the day she arrived: a daring, yet evasive temptress that leaves me with a consuming hunger every morning, one that lasts through the day. It's an endless cycle of torture.

I've never wanted a woman with such vigor… such insistent urgency.

Every morning as she serves my breakfast, I have to hold myself back from getting lost in her luminous brown eyes while I think of the thousand and one things I'd like to do to those luscious lips.

I usually don't eat breakfast, but I find myself showing up at the table every morning. She sits at the chair opposite mine and we eat together, mostly in silence. But sometimes, she'll brave a question or two about the food or my work.

I like talking to her, though. I like the husky timbre of her voice and the way it seems like she almost speaks in whispers. I like the genuine interest in her eyes whenever she's listening to me and that reluctant smile that unconsciously curls at her lips when she finds something amusing.

It didn't take any time at all to realize that I want so much more than that provocative body of hers… I want to know her, to know the story behind that deep sadness that I occasionally glimpse in her eyes.

This feeling is new for me. I've had plenty of women in my bed over the years, sharing what's supposed to be the highest form of intimacy with me, and I've never felt more than passing affection. Nothing I've ever had with a woman went beyond a few nice rolls in the hay.

The way I want London is different. It's raw and primal, pounding in my veins. It's more than lust, more than passion – everything in me screams out for her. I want her body, her heart, her soul.

But there's no way I'm acting on those feelings. Aside from the fact that London is my baby sister's best friend, she's way too good, too innocent for a jaded man like me.

I let out a ragged sigh as I sat up in bed, already thinking of ways to rid myself of the relentless hard-on pushing against my stomach. I briefly consider wanking, but a quick glance at the small digital clock on my bedside table has me discarding the idea.

A cold shower will have to do.

I stand from the bed, stretch lightly, and start to walk toward the bathroom. Suddenly, I hear a loud, jarring sound cut across the room, making me stop in my tracks. I walk towards the window to investigate the sound and I'm shocked to see London wrestling with a lawn mower.

The whirling engine seems to pull her this and that way while she struggles to stay in control. For a second, I stare at the sight in complete shock, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. It takes me a moment to remember that she's the hired help, and seeing her do chores shouldn't feel so strange.

I watch for a while, amused at the unexpected scene unfolding below. She obviously doesn't know what she's doing. I wonder why she's decided to take this task upon herself. Why wouldn't she just ask me for help?

Suddenly, she lets out a loud yelp as the lawnmower jerks out of her grip, causing her to lose balance and fall backward.

My heart skips violently and before I know it, I'm sprinting out of my room.

By the time I got out into the yard, London is sitting on the ground, gently cradling her left ankle in her hands. The lawnmower has stopped whirling and lays quietly a few feet away from her. I rush over to her side, placing my hands on her shoulders as I search her face.

"Are you okay, London?"

She nods her head, her face turning a deep crimson. "Y-yes."

"Why on earth were you mowing the lawn?"

"I just wanted to be of use around the house."

"What does that even mean?" I ask, unable to keep the exasperation from my voice. "Can you walk?"

"I think I might have sprained my ankle," she mutters, her expression chagrined.

"I'll carry you," I say, rising to my feet.

"There's really no need. I can…"

She lets out a surprise gasp as I scoop her up in my arms, bridal style.

"Are you comfortable?" I ask, searching her face.

She nods shyly, blushing harder as she buries her head in my chest. I carry her into the living room and place her gingerly on the couch. I help her to sit up, gently stretching out the injured leg in front of her.

"I'll get an ice pack."

"Really, it's okay," London says, shifting uneasily. "It's just a light sprain; nothing I can't manage."

"We don't want it getting worse," I say, keeping my voice leveled despite the knot of worry in my guts. "Ice will help with the swelling."

"Okay," she mumbles with a timid nod.

I head to the kitchen to prepare an ice pack, then grab a sachet of painkillers just in case.

"Thank you," she says with a grateful smile when I return to the living room.

I bend down in front of her and gently lift her feet onto my lap, then gently place the ice pack on her sprained ankle. "That should make you feel better. Would you like some painkillers?"

I look up when she doesn't answer after a few seconds to see her staring at me with an absently amused smile.

"What's that face for?" I ask, intrigued by the brightness in her usually reserved eyes.

"It's just… I remember the summer when I turned seven. I'd just gotten my hair done in pigtails and I came over to show Amelia. On my way to her room, I was running so fast that I tripped and fell, right outside your door. You came out and lifted me in your arms just like now, took me to the kitchen, and tended to my scraped knees. You were so gentle and warm…" She chuckles lightly, her expression turning dreamy. "I think that's when my crush on you started."

"You had a crush on me?" I ask, surprised.

London goes beet red again, lowering her eyes to avoid my gaze. "It was such a long time ago…" she says with a hesitant shrug. "I couldn't even define those things I felt until much later. I thought I caught the flu with all the butterflies in my stomach every time I saw you."

I laugh, surprised by her sense of humor. London joins in, the tinkling sounds of her laughter meshing perfectly with mine. It's the first time I've heard her laugh, and I can't help but be mesmerized by the vibrancy in her face. At that moment, she looked so much younger. Freer.

She stops laughing, her expression morphing into a perplexed frown. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's just… You're adorable," I reply with a slight chuckle, standing up to sit beside her.

Her expression dims a little. "You make it sound like I'm still that little girl in pigtails."

"Oh, you're so much more than that, London," I say with a self-derisive laugh. "You're a damn gorgeous woman, one that's been giving me sleepless nights for days. You can't imagine the things I want to do to you."

"W-why don't you?"

Those words make my breath catch in my chest. "London…"

She clears her throat. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

I press my mouth to hers, seizing her lips in a hard, almost punishing kiss. Her lips remain unmoving beneath mine, her body frozen in shock. I wrap an arm around her waist and jerk her body roughly against me, then pull back with a cruel smirk at her dazed face.

"I'll hurt you, baby girl," I say, keeping my voice deliberately cold. "Can't you see that?"

"You won't," she says, shocking me with the conviction in her words.

"And how're you so sure, love? I've dreamt of doing nasty things to you, plunging into you over and over again until my name becomes your very breath. I want to fuck you out of senses... but that's it. I'm not sure what I want beyond that… Don't you get it now?"

"I want you too, Curt," she says, holding my gaze despite the furious blush spreading across her face. "I've wanted you for a long time. It doesn't matter what happens after… I'll never regret it."

I don't know if it's the way she said my name or the staggering desire in her beautiful brown eyes, but I suddenly find myself leaning in against my better judgment. I kiss her again, this time more gently. She sighs softly, her body melting against mine as she wraps her arms around my neck. Her body feels warm and soft against mine, her sweet, flowery scent crowding my senses. I press her even closer to me, wanting more of her… of this unfamiliar, yet invigorating warmth that seems to emanate from her core. I crave it all.

I lift my mouth off hers to kiss her jaw and down the elegant curve of her neck.

"Are you sure about this?" I ask, my hand hovering above the neckline of her dress.

"Yes, Curt. I want you."

I cover her left breast with my palm, squeezing gently while I tease her lips with soft kisses. "Can I take off your dress? I need to see all of you."

She nods shyly, blushing. She sits up and lifts her dress by its hem, over her head, and carefully places it on the arm of the couch. My breath hitches and my mouth suddenly goes dry at the sight of her lacy white bra and matching panties.

"W-what's wrong?" she asks, wrapping her arms around herself. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're so damn gorgeous, London…"

I kiss her again, gently sliding my tongue into the heat of her mouth, melding her lips with mine and drowning myself in her sweet little moans. Then I slide my mouth down to her throat, letting my fingers graze the curve of her left breast before squeezing gently.

She moans, arching into my palm as I fondle her breast through the lace. I reach behind her, deftly unhooking her bra to reveal full, perky breasts with the most perfectly rounded nipples.

"Damn," I mutter, reaching out to cover the luscious mounds with both of my hands. They fill my hands, soft yet firm. I squeeze gently, watching her reaction. Her eyes are tightly shut, her expression caught somewhere between nervousness and excitement.

I push her back gently so she's lying on the couch. "How's your ankle, honey? Is it troubling you?"

She shook her head. "It's all better."

I kiss her again, gently, loving the way she instantly melts into me. The kiss is short, and I chuckle at the little whine of protest that she makes when I pull away, one that quickly turns to a needy moan the moment my mouth descends on her left breast. I swirl my tongue around her hardened nipple with a deep groan, enjoying her little throaty sounds of pleasure. I can feel myself growing harder, my cock pushing against the restraint of my pants.

Ignoring my hard-on, I continue to suck her breast, gently running my thumb over her right nipple, matching the rhythm to the stroke of my tongue. My mouth begins to explore, trailing kisses across her stomach and down to her pelvic area. The scent of her arousal hits my nose. Strong. Intoxicating.

"You're already so wet," I murmur, staring at the damp spot on her panties.

I bury my nose between her thighs, breathing in her scent, intentionally driving myself over the edge. "I want to taste you so bad," I growl, lightly scraping my teeth over the lace.

I raise my head to look at her face. She's breathing hard, her lips slightly parted. Her face is flushed, and her dilated brown eyes mirror the overwhelming desire pulsing through my veins at the moment.

"Can I?" I ask, searching her eyes.

I didn't think it was possible for her to grow any redder, but she does, her head bobbing in a shy nod. "Y-yes." She clears her throat. "Yes, you can."

My heart starts a low thrum of excitement as I slide the lace panties down her legs. I kiss my way up her creamy thighs until my lips graze her entrance. I swipe my tongue over her pussy lips, humming softly at the delicious taste of her. She lets out a soft cry when I capture her clitoris between my lips.

"Oh…" she mutters breathlessly when I close my mouth over her pussy, sucking greedily. She buries her hands in my hair, grabbing on tightly as she writhes beneath me. I continue my sweet assault on her, teasing and thrusting until her moans become breathless whimpers.

Just when I feel her climax coming on, I slide a finger inside her. I freeze, shocked at the tight resistance that meets my intrusion and the quick realization that follows the moment I see her guilty expression.

I sit up slowly, my stomach tightening with an indecipherable emotion. "You're a virgin."