“That said, there’s no shame in stripping, yelling like a banshee, and acting like the floor is lava when it comes to bugs. So don’t go getting all embarrassed with me, okay? Your total overreaction was actually pretty damn normal. I mean, that spider was freaking—”

Right then and there, shirtless in the kitchen, Sloane pressed her lips to Brady’s before he could form another word.

Which was good, because once she was against him, Brady didn’t give a rat’s backside about anything else.

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Sloane hadn’t meant to kiss Brady. Nope. Not one bit.

Sure, she’d thought about it a few times since he’d surprised her at the bar with his own impromptu lip-lock, and not to mention their pecks over the last two days, but thinking about Idris Elba naked in bed with you doesn’t actually mean that Idris Elba will be naked in bed with you. Lady parts weren’t a coven of witches who made every naughty thought a reality.

Yet, the evidence was fairly damning in this instance.

Sloane had been the one to kiss him, but now Brady made her gasp. His hands went from her arms to places of power. One to the small of her back, the other to the back of her neck. The former brought her closer to him; the latter anchored her lips firmly against his.

Then his tongue parted her lips, deepening the kiss, and she nearly moaned right then and there. Stars? Planets? Fireworks and chaos? Sloane wasn’t sure what she was seeing, but her body sure as hell wanted to keep the show going. Her hands didn’t go for power. They became adventurers instead. Roaming across his shoulders and back with their limited reach, searching for something new and more exciting.

He was so tall.

So solid.

So warm.

Sloane wanted more than a kiss. She wanted to keep exploring.

And, judging by the specific hardness she was feeling against her, she suspected the feeling was mutual.

So she decided to keep things moving along.

Sloane brought her hands down to the bottom of his shirt and slipped beneath it with speed. If Brady thought she threw her shirt off fast, he was going to be straight dazzled at her ability to rid him of his. Just wait until she got to his pants.

Homie was about to get whiplash.

“Jesus Christ, Sloane! What are you doing?”

Sloane gasped, and it was nowhere near the pleasurable kind.

She separated from Brady in a flash and felt a full-body cringe sweep over her as she realized the new voice in the kitchen was unmistakably that of her older brother.

Callum De Carlo had his hand over his eyes, but his scowl was easy to see.

“Your room is literally down the hall,” he continued. “It would take you maybe three seconds to get there!”