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“Oh,” she gasped as he shoved a strong thigh between hers, bringing a blessed contact against her sex.
    Then as if a switch had flipped, he stopped, dropped her to her feet and stepped away, looking around into the gloom. The noises had only grown louder as the party got a little more drunk, high or whatever. She didn’t care. She glared at him. “What?” She demanded, a little too loudly.
    “I…I can’t do this.” He took another step away. The look in his eyes was alarming, but he’d ignited a fire in her she refused to ignore.
    “I want it, Brandis. I mean…I want you to, you know….” Blood rushed to her face when he grimaced. She’d obviously misread him. “Oh, sorry. I get it.” She started to shove her way past him. He caught her arm, the connection sending a shaft of lust straight through her. “Don’t touch me. I mean it.”
    “No, you don’t,” the sound of his voice made her shut her eyes against the urge to jump him, to force him to take her in the corner of his family’s lawn. “But I won’t do this Mo. At least,” he tugged her close, making her bite her lip to keep from groaning at the feel of his body against hers, “not yet.” He nipped her earlobe, brushed his lips over hers. “And not here. Don’t get me wrong.” He cupped her chin, stared deep into her soul. Her heart did a scary flip in her chest. She made herself look away.
    “About what? C’mon, Brandis, I know you’re an expert at the deflowering thing.” Maureen glared at the tall, handsome guy—once just her brother’s friend, now the star in her most fevered erotic fantasies.
    He frowned, and stepped away from her again, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s all you want?” He stared at her. Her teeth started to chatter, her knees shook but she stood tall, meeting his gaze.
    “Maybe,”. The straight forward young woman in her ached to tell him what she really wanted—his arms back around her, his lips on hers…forever.
    “Fine.” He stepped close once more, looming over her. One hand gripped her neck as he lowered his lips to hers. She trembled in anticipation.
    “Taylor!” Her brother’s sharp voice broke through the lusty fog making them leap away from each other. Mo repressed a nervous laugh at how guilty they must look. “Where the hell is….” He pushed the curtain of the weeping willow tree aside as Brandis  shoved her behind him. “My sister.” Jack crossed his arms, glaring at them both.
    “I’m fine, Jack. Jesus.” Mo stepped out from behind Brandis, wiping at her eyes. “I was just…you know, upset about the jerk in the pool. Brandis got me a beer and, um….” She watched her brother’s eyes narrow at her, then at his friend. Brandis shrugged and handed her a cup he picked up from a nearby chair, trying to sustain the illusion. A wild hysterical laugh nearly escaped her, but she forced it down under a solid layer of angry. She still hummed with need but knew the moment was over. She stomped away, into the house, ignoring all the partiers and hid in the bathroom for twenty minutes; mortified at herself, aggravated at her brother and flat out horny.
    By the time she emerged, the party had taken on a coupled-off vibe. Almost every corner of the Taylor house provided refuge for making out. Blind with lust for the one guy she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—have, she shouldered past a few straggling people in the kitchen and headed for the basement. The extra Gatorade and other drinks were in the fridge down there and she needed to hydrate if she was going to make it to work the next day. She heard Jack’s low chuckle and a corresponding female giggle somewhere near the stairway.
    Her mind still spun with combined embarrassed mortification and overheated libido when her feet hit the basement floor. A sound made her stop dead in her tracks and look to the left where three large leather couches dominated a room stocked with a TV and pool table. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing