006: TOO CLOSE AGAIN

Ciara's POV

I gulp. My legs are trembling. I'm breathing too fast. I can't look at him and not remember last night how I shamelessly came alive and gosh... My panties are sticky to my inner thighs.

He puts his hands around my waist to settle me as he lowers his face to my chin, trailing his lips down to my neck and slowly sniffs in. "You smell different."

"No way you could have mastered my scent in just one night." My voice comes out too husky. I'm standing in the middle of my husband's dining room with the entrance open while his twin touches me like I'm his. In a house filled with maids, anyone could walk in... Anyone!

“You smelled like roses yesterday,” he murmured. “I liked that.”

"Well, my husband didn't, so he changed my body wash." I stressed the word husband to pass my message through.

"Ahh, what a thoughtful brother. You smell like strawberries now, and I love to suck them."

"I'm your brother's wife."

"The same husband who used your connection to get a promotion at Redford's partners and doesn't appreciate you for it?"

"He's done a lot for me himself. He didn't need to appreciate the little I did." I defended Simon once more.

"The little you did, Ciara? That was supposed to be your promotion. You're smarter than that. Don't let anyone belittle your efforts."

I say nothing.

"Or the time he stood you up at your well-planned congratulations party for him in the office, since he's always there, but that one night he wasn't."

"How — how did you know that?" I stutter, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

That night, I had taken extra steps to look seductively irresistible. I spent my entire profit from the biggest art fair I've ever organized to make that party a hit. I sniff in. I want to cry now. I had invited family and friends, but Simon didn't show, didn't even pick up his calls.

He came back home drunk and exhausted, barely able to walk because he'd been solo celebrating, and I forgave him because I loved him, and he loved me too.

Cain is scared. How did he know these things I never discussed with anyone? Could someone have told him? No, from what I gathered, they never get along. The two brothers never get along.

“When I came back two weeks ago, I started paying attention,” he simply says. "And it makes one wonder if he's truly always in that office as often as he claims."

I freeze and watch him step into my space, move my hair from my shoulders and his eyes drop to my chest again in a very slow, agonizing manner as he notices how hard my nipples are straining against the fabric. He brushes his hands against my shoulders, sending a thousand volts of electricity as he adjusts my jacket. "You’re shaking." There's a rough edge to his voice.

"I'm not!" I snap through gritted teeth, because I am terribly shaking.

Instead of pushing him, I challenged him. "Do you make a habit of seducing your brother’s wife?"

"Only the ones who look back."

A footstep startles us. I gasped and turned around to find the cook in the room with us. She flashes a judgmental gaze between us before bowing her head and silently moving to the cooker.

I fidget, unsure whether to defend myself or keep silent. I reach for a glass. Cain grabs it too and our hands linger one second too long.

The cook glances at us again, and I'm the first to pull away, leaving the glass. "I don't want it anymore."

Cain smirks at me with no trace of remorse or shame.

"Miriam." I call the cook. "Serve breakfast in my room." I don't miss the distant look in Cain's eyes as he watches me walk out on him again.

I don't know if he's fallen already. I've noticed he looks at me like he would ruin the world whilst my husband doesn't even touch me. “Why do I want the wrong brother when the right one chose me?” I mutter.

I decided to fight this attraction by avoiding and shutting Cain down. I leave to my design studio.

When I returned, the loud noise from the garage assaults my ears, causing the entire house to vibrate with the noise. My feet twitched toward there, but I stopped because, before I left for work, Cain became distant and that distance unsettled.

I should ignore him too, but the noise is unbearable. I tell myself I'm only going to ask him to lower the noise.

The garage is filled with gear, spare parts, machines. The floor is greasy, and it looks really hot in there. I strain my neck to look around. I can't find Cain in this packed-up mess. "Can you put down..."

The words die in my throat when I catch sight of him rolling out from under a huge bike he's probably trying to fix. He's wearing only a jogger that's hanging too low on his waist, revealing the cut of his V-shaped abs and his dick print is very visible.

I want to look away, I really do, but Lord, I'm enjoying the view.

He has goggles and boots on, but his chest is bare and sweaty, showing off scars and tattoos that I'm itching to trace my fingers through and know the story behind them.

He strides towards me, and I refuse to notice the way his cock slaps against his thighs.

I finally tried to step in, but he blocks the entrance. "What do you want?" Cain leaned closer until I could feel his breath. "You came here to stop me…or to see me again?"