Striding on unsteady legs, he headed for the kitchen, for the bourbon he knew Arlo kept in the cupboard that jutted out over the counter on the far wall and the special heavy crystal tumblers he also kept there especially for the bourbon.

With his forehead pressed into the cupboard overhead and his erection pressed into the cupboard beneath, Tucker splashed the alcohol into the bottom of the glass. A bit spilled onto the countertop, but he didn’t care—he just threw it back, willing his pulse to settle, the hitch in his breath to smooth out, his erection to just fucking die already.

Everything about this was inappropriate.

He was in Arlo’s house lusting after Arlo’s sister. Listening to her masturbate. He was going to go to hell for this. Ninth-circle-of-hell hell.

Peeping Tom hell.

Pouring another glass, he swallowed that down, too, and poured a third glass, drinking half of it before setting the tumbler down and taking a breath. Sliding his palms wide apart on the counter, he dropped his head down between his shoulders and wished he was anywhere but here. It had been hard enough to stop thinking about Della these past weeks without knowing it was his name on her lips as she came.

“Oh Jesus!”

Tucker’s pulse spiked at the shocked gasp behind him, and he raised his head so quickly he smacked it on the cupboard above. “Fuck,” he hissed, a hand grabbing the crown of his head as pain lanced through his skull.

He spun around to find Della standing just inside the kitchen doorway. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was in some kind of silky kimono-style gown that fell all the way to the floor with long, voluminous sleeves. Unfortunately, that was the only place it was voluminous, tying firmly around her waist, the fabric sitting in a tight crisscross across her cleavage.

The hit to his head may have made him see stars, but it wasn’t affecting his night vision. Tucker could definitely see the unfettered swells of her breasts and the puckering of two nipples. Which meant no bra. Hell, he’d bet good money there were also no panties under that thing, but he refused to drop his gaze any lower.

He only hoped his erection wasn’t as obvious, because it was showing no signs of flagging. Hell, if he’d been a dog, someone would have turned the hose on him already.

“Sorry… I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t hear you arrive.”

“I only just got here,” he said with a shrug and then wished he hadn’t when she looked like she was trying to figure out if he’d heard any of her sexy alone time.

She frowned. “Why are you here?”