Sweetest Taste of Sin (Southern Sin) Read online

Page 3


  He went rigid against her, his body straining against her tight hold. It was a rejection, plain and simple, but Logan didn’t care. She was finally touching him, his cedar and spice scent filling her nose, the warmth of his body washing into her like a gentle tide. It was heaven, and when he went to pull away from her, to separate their bodies, she squeezed her thighs on his lean hips.

  “No, I finally gotchu and I’m not letting go,” she mumbled into his chest.

  “Logan.” Devon’s outraged whisper cut through some of the daze and she lifted her head to look over her shoulder at her scandalized sister. “That’s not J.B.”

  She frowned at Devon. “I know it’s not J.B. This is Ant-ony. Anth-ony. Ant.” She slid her hands from his waist to his hips and around to the tight ass she’d watched a million times. “My Ant.” She squeezed the muscles and pressed her cheek to the center of his chest.

  “Okay, I think it’s time for us to go,” Ant said roughly, his hands coming up to grip her biceps, his body pulling away from her all in one smooth move. “Y’all need rides?”

  Logan saw Devon shaking her head, her eyes glued to them. “Ava’s dad is coming to get us.”

  Ant nodded. “Good. We’ll wait until he gets here and then I’m taking her home so she can sleep this off.” This being Logan running her hands over his chest, unable to help herself. He was just so big and muscled, just a little more than J.B., and she found that fascinating. “How much did y’all drink anyway?”

  Devon answered, her words seeming far away. As horny as she was, Logan’s eyes slid closed and she rested her forehead on Ant’s chest, breathing him in, her body relaxing bit by bit until she slid into sleep.

  * * * * *

  God, he was going to hell. Ant looked down at his lap and the golden head resting on his thigh as he drove, his cock an almost obscene bulge in his jeans. Logan’s face was turned toward his crotch, her breath bathing his dick in warmth with every exhalation she made. He should’ve propped her up against the door on the other side of the cab, but he’d worried about her not catching herself when he had to stop and smashing her face into the dashboard. So this bright idea was born.

  He sucked in a deep breath and focused on the road. He wasn’t going to hell. He was getting a fucking medal for this. God, the minute she’d wrapped her arms and legs around him in the bar, pulling him into the cradle of her body, he’d almost forgotten everything that wasn’t meant to be and fucked her right there. She was a cute drunk, all cuddly and sweet and fiery. The heat from her cunt had nearly burned a hole in his jeans. It’d taken all of his will not to rip away her panties and play with her pussy, get her nice and wet so he could ease inside and…

  “Mm,” she moaned softly, stretching across the bench seat of the truck.

  They were almost to the house. Just another five minutes and he could tuck her in J.B.’s bed, run to his room and lock the door before he jacked off. Just another three miles.

  Ant glanced down again to see her watching him, the slightly smeared mascara around her eyes giving her a sexy-as-fuck look. One thing he loved about Logan was that she didn’t get gussied up for nothing. Emily used to dress up to get the mail. Logan was about comfort. She didn’t slap a ton of makeup on her face, saving it for special occasions. Like tonight, hanging with her sisters. They’d all looked great, the Guillory girls each uniquely beautiful, but the only one he’d had eyes for was Logan.

  “I think about you,” she whispered into the darkness of the truck.

  Remembering how she’d called him “my Ant” sent a thrill of forbidden pleasure through him. Then he recalled how drunk she was. According to the helpful Devon, Logan had put away at least six margaritas and a shot at some point in the night. It was only luck that kept her from puking her guts up.

  So no need to get worked up over a few words she didn’t mean. He forced himself to stay quiet and returned his attention to the road. Two miles to go and then bed for Logan. A bed J.B. would join her in when he got home from Lafayette, which should be in about two hours.

  “I think about you a lot more than I should and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Fuck. “Just be quiet and I’ll get you home to J.B.,” he promised, almost pleadingly.

  “I love him.”

  Sucker punch, right to the solar plexus. He sucked in a wheezing breath. “Yeah, I know. He loves you too.”

  “And I love you,” she confessed in a barely-there wisp of sound.

  Everything inside Ant froze at her words, his hands clenched tight around the steering wheel, eyes staring unseeing at the road. At least his body had the sense to ease off the accelerator, the truck slowing on the dark lane that led to his house. Don’t look down, don’t look down. Like a man walking a tight rope, he chanted the words to himself as he depressed the accelerator again, the truck shooting forward. If he didn’t look down, if he didn’t listen, it wouldn’t be real. Wouldn’t be tearing out his fucking chest because, despite her words, he couldn’t fucking have her.

  But it didn’t matter if he didn’t look down anymore because she suddenly sat up on the bench. Good. If she sat on the other side of the truck, he wouldn’t be tempted to do something that’d ruin his relationship with his brother. Like whip out his dick and feed it to Logan inch by inch before he fucked her raw.

  Except she didn’t stay on her side of the truck. No, she scooted over until she sat right next to him, her flowery scent wafting to his nose, the heat of her body pressed along his right side as though she belonged there. She does, a little voice whispered, but he shook it off.

  “You should get on the other side and put your seatbelt on,” he muttered, staring at the road as though it was lined with mines.

  Her hand touched his thigh as she twisted on the seat, leaning into him. “Do you hate me?”

  That was enough to bring his attention around to her and he blinked. “What? Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

  She nibbled on her lip, the shadows of the truck making it difficult to see her expression. “Because I love you and your brother and I want both of you and that makes me a slut, doesn’t it? You hate me now, don’t you?”

  An image, sinful and impossible, eased into his mind and wouldn’t let go. Of having Logan pinned between him and J.B., her body available to him, to his brother, her cries of ecstasy ringing in his ears. Ant had indulged in a lot of wild shit when he was younger, but never shared a woman with another man. The thought should have disgusted him, because he so didn’t want to see another man naked, especially his brother, but with the thought of having Logan there, her body accepting everything he had to give, everything J.B. had to give… It was an intriguing picture and made his balls draw up tight with the need to come.

  But that wouldn’t happen. He’d never be able to ask that of his brother. J.B. worshipped the ground Logan walked on and he was a possessive man, just like Ant. They’d never shared their toys as kids, getting in unholy fights over what they each perceived as theirs. Those fights had torn them up, both physically and emotionally. And that was over material things that could be easily replaced or replicated. It would be a million times more devastating to fight his brother over Logan.

  “You think I’m a whore,” she whispered, in a broken tone that jerked him back to cold reality. She shifted away from him, moving to the other side of the truck where’d asked her to go in the first place. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t hate you,” he bit out, hands strangling the steering wheel. Thank fuck the house came into view. He couldn’t get her out of his truck fast enough and raced up the drive. “And I don’t think you’re a whore. You just had a little too much to drink tonight, that’s all.”

  She didn’t say anything, just kept her face turned away as she opened the door.

  “Logan,” he tried again, but she slid off the bench, wobbling when she landed, and he hurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt and leapt out of the truck.

  He raced around the hood, catching her just as her knees
seemed to buckle, nearly spilling her to the gravel. Without thought, he swept her into his arms, pulling her tight against his chest. She sucked in a shaky breath at the contact and his goddamn heart expanded, only to clench into the size of a golf ball when she struggled to get away from him.

  “Calm down,” he ordered as he carried her up the steps of the house. “You’re drunk, sweetcheeks. I’m just gonna—”

  “Put me down,” she said, in a tight voice. “Put me the fuck down now, Ant.”

  Since they were on the solid porch and she was tense, her body stiff against him, completely unlike the Logan who’d hugged him in the bar, he gently eased her to the ground. He didn’t want to let her go. Even knowing it couldn’t go anywhere, he wanted to keep her glued to him, but she gave him her shoulder, hunching down on herself while he got out his keys to unlock the door. Goddamit. He could never do the right thing around her, fucking everything up when it came to her.

  The second the door was open she darted inside, swaying alarmingly on her heels. “Logan,” he shouted, throwing the door closed behind him and hurrying after her.

  She went straight to J.B.’s room, closing the door on him a split second before he heard the rough sound of a sob. His heart rending in two, Ant didn’t bother trying to stop himself. He’d hurt her in some way and it just about killed him. He entered the room to see she’d stopped just inside the door, arms wrapped around her waist, shoulders heaving as she cried, and he stopped fighting it, stopped trying to tell himself he could walk away from her.

  He opened his mouth to say something but snapped his jaws shut again because every time he spoke he fucked things up. Instead he gripped her shoulder, spun her around on those fucking heels and jerked her against his chest. Her makeup was ruined from her tears, her lips swollen, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care that this was wrong, that she belonged to his brother, loved his brother. She was fucking his.

  She was straining against him, but the instant he lowered his head and kissed her, fusing their lips together, her hands clutched his shirt. Ant groaned at the contact, his arms wrapping around her to keep her in place as he finally—fucking finally—tasted Logan. Sweet and tart with a hint of the alcohol she’d consumed, she was an addictive flavor he knew he’d remember the rest of his life. At first she didn’t kiss him back, her fists pushing into his chest to put space between them, but Ant didn’t give up. It was wrong, so wrong, but he loved her and if this was all he’d ever have, he’d take it.

  After a few seconds, she softened against him, her body relaxing into him and her lips parting on a sigh. He groaned again, couldn’t hold it down, as his tongue swept into her mouth to tangle with hers. Fire raced through him, consuming all common sense and morals. She kissed him, her hands clenching into his shirt, bunching the material, her fingernails scoring his skin through the fabric, and each scratch shot straight to his dick.

  Ant angled his head to the side for a deeper taste, devouring her, rocking his hips into hers. One of her long legs came up, wrapped around his hip to align his dick with her pussy and rub it against him. He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hand down her back to cup her ass, gripping it hard, kneading the soft globe as they humped each other like horny teenagers.

  His cock hurt, trapped as it was in the material of his jeans. He wanted nothing in the way of his hands, mouth and dick, and pulled away from her with the intention of tearing clothing away, of finally diving into the lush body he’d admired for so long. His hands were on the hem of her skirt, their mouths inches apart, sharing breath as they panted for air and—

  Ant’s cell buzzed in his pocket and he leapt as though he’d been poked with a cattle prod. Knowing who it was helped dampen some of his lust, but it was knowing why J.B. would be calling at this hour, to let him know he was coming home—coming home to his woman—that shot Ant full of guilt and self-hatred.

  He didn’t know what his face looked like, but imagined it wasn’t good, because Logan flinched away from him as he reached into his pocket. She lifted a shaky hand to her mouth, her eyes filling with tears, and spun away from him to run for the bathroom. Ant squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his teeth hard and answered his phone, doing his best not to think what would have happened if J.B. hadn’t called at that moment.

  Chapter Three

  J.B. braced his elbows on the kitchen table, his coffee mug cradled between his hands, but his eyes were on Ant. His brother moved like an old man, shuffling to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup and, instead of coming to the table, leaned against the cabinet, keeping a lot of space between them. There was something significant in that, but J.B. was too fucking scared to ponder it for long. Scared that something inexplicable had happened that would ruin everything he’d carefully arranged.

  Coming home last night, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see. He knew what he’d hoped for. That Logan’s tipsy state would have pushed the two people he loved most together, that he’d come home to see them cuddled together, the fierce attraction between them having reached its natural conclusion. Did he consciously decide to enter into a threesome with his twin and the woman they both loved? Not really. But having spent the last six months watching them circle each other like adversaries, seeing the love they each tried to hide had led him to a lot of thinking.

  He loved Logan. What he thought he’d felt for Emily had been familiarity and habit. What he felt for Logan was a million times more powerful, and he knew his twin felt the same. He’d known his brother since the womb and, though Ant tried to hide his feelings, J.B. could read him like an open book. The teasing, the almost sharp bite of wit he displayed to Logan was a means to keep his distance from her. But when he thought no one was looking, when he thought he could get away with it, there was no disguising the pained love on his brother’s face.

  At first he’d wanted to deck Ant for even looking at Logan. But his possessive rage had calmed when he realized his brother wasn’t going to attempt to go after her. Then he’d started watching them when they weren’t aware of it, doing so for the last five months, only to see how much it hurt both of them to deny what they felt for each other. And they denied it because they both loved him and didn’t want to hurt him. It was fucked up, and he was aware most men would’ve just taken their woman and gone elsewhere.

  But this was Anthony. His brother, his twin, the one person who’d always been with him. The man who’d supported him through Emily’s bullshit. Even knowing Emily wasn’t right for him, Ant hadn’t said a word against her until she’d made it impossible to hold back anymore. J.B. had been aware of Ant’s attraction to Logan because it’d pissed Emily off. His ex-wife was probably the one who’d originally planted the idea of being in a threesome with his twin in his head, because she’d wanted Ant. Almost desperately. But it hadn’t been love on her side. She’d seen a chance to have both Calhoun men dangling on a string but her attempts to integrate herself in Ant’s life had been met with repulsion.

  Logan wasn’t doing that. When she saw Ant, J.B. saw the hunger and need on her face, the shy affection for Ant that she hid, and he knew it wasn’t about sex for her. Well, not much about sex. There was no denying every time Ant came around, when he and Logan went head to head about something, Logan’s arousal always burned hotter. There had been times he wondered if she was thinking about Ant while fucking him, but no, her love for him burned bright as the sun.

  For weeks J.B. had sat back, passively waiting for that tension between them to snap, to bring that attraction to its natural peak, part of him concerned they’d fulfill it and leave him out in the cold. But time passed and nothing happened, so he’d taken matters into his own hands and left Ant with Logan when her inhibitions were low and her arousal high. Only to come home to a Logan who’d cried herself to sleep and a brother whose face looked as though he’d aged twenty years overnight.

  “I can’t stay here anymore,” Ant said, bringing him back to now, and his gaze snapped up from his mug to his brother. Eyes solemn and face tigh
t, Ant didn’t shy away from a direct stare. “Last night…” He paused and shook his head, sorrow and pain and love tearing at his expression. “I was…I kissed Logan last night.”

  J.B. sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, fingers tightening around the mug in a reflexive grab. “Did you hurt her?” Anger flashed in Ant’s eyes, but J.B. shook his head. “Her face is streaked with tears, man. I have to ask.” Because brother or not, planned time together or not, if Ant hurt Logan…

  Ant raked a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands hard enough to make J.B. grimace, before he blew out a breath. “She said some stuff. She was drunk and I was just tryin’ to get her home because I didn’t want her to regret talkin’ to me and—Fuck, man. I kissed her and I would’ve fucked her in your bed if you hadn’t called.” He said the last words on a rush, his words harsh and his breathing ragged with self-disgust. “I didn’t say anything to her after that, but she must have thought…I don’t know…that I blamed her for me losing control, but I don’t. I don’t.”

  J.B. lounged back in his chair. “So you can’t stay here anymore because you kissed Logan?”

  His brother barked out a laugh. “That isn’t enough? You can’t kid me, Jimmy,” he rasped, using J.B.’s childhood nickname from before they both decided it was too nerdy. “I know how much you love Logan, how much she loves you.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, but he soldiered on. “What I did was unforgivable. You’re my brother and I love you and you fuckin’ deserve somethin’ good after all the bad you’ve had with Emily. I’m not gonna fuck that up.”

  He had to be careful with this, because Ant on a tear was a wild man. His brother tended not to listen if he was feeling passionate about something, and his love for Logan, a woman he thought he couldn’t have, would make him pretty goddamn wild. J.B. lowered his gaze to stare at the table, carefully mulling over everything and searching for the right angle to take. The one that would get Ant to agree to sharing Logan. Even if it was wrong, against everything society said a successful relationship should be, it was right for them. For him and Ant, and especially for Logan.