Book 0.5 - Page 8 (1/2)

Honesty?

No, there’s no way in h.e.l.l she’s ready for that. I slide backwards, carefully pulling my hand out of her hair and my legs away from hers so that we’re no longer touching. Her shoulders slouch, and she stops twisting her fingers together in her lap, relaxing.

Honestly? I want to take you until you beg me to keep you.

I decide to save those words for later, and I say, “Have dinner with me.”

Sienna’s mouth drops open a little, like she’s shocked and doesn’t know that she’s so distracting I’ve not been able to get a f**king thing accomplished since she ran into me this morning. She recovers a moment later, but just as she says my name in a hesitant voice, the door to my dressing room nudges open and Kylie peeks in.

Is she kidding me?

My sister glances between me and Sienna several times before saying, “You’re needed.”

A muscle in my jaw tics. “I’m busy,” I growl.

Kylie c.o.c.ks her head to the side, keeping her face blank. Can’t decide whether she’s holding back a look of distaste or a grin, but I don’t care for either one. “The world doesn’t stop for Lucas Wolfe,” Kylie points out.

“I need to go and work on . . . costume stuff,” Sienna says, and she’s already on her feet. Her body knocks against my legs as she pa.s.ses by. Rubbing her palms down the sides of her tight jeans, she glances over her shoulder at me and a rush of desire speeds through me. I’ve wanted women hours—h.e.l.l, minutes—after meeting them, but never this bad. Sienna turns her gaze from mine and keeps her head down as she rushes to the door. Kylie steps out of her way, giving her a little smile as she leaves.

Kylie leans her whole d.a.m.n body out into the hallway, watching Sienna’s retreating form for a long moment before saying, “She seems like a sweet girl.”

“Yeah.”

She comes inside of the dressing room, shuts the door behind her with the back of her foot, and rests her back to it. I know I’m in for a s.h.i.+tstorm when Kylie crosses her arms tightly over her chest, so I c**k my eyebrow. “Go on. Spit it out.”

At first she seems unsure of whether or not she wants to speak—which is a f**king miracle since Kylie’s got something to say about everything—but then she shakes her head. “Don’t . . . Lucas.”

“Don’t what?”

She narrows her brown eyes. “Don’t be a douche, Luke. Don’t pull your s.h.i.+t with her.”

“You don’t even know her.”

“Neither do you. She looks like a . . .” Kylie’s words trail off and she takes a deep breath, blus.h.i.+ng.

I’m able to mentally fill in her words.

A virgin.