Free Cannon (A Step Brother Romance #3) by Sabrina Paige Page A

turned on, wired somehow, on a cellular level.
    I lean against the door, my breath still caught in my throat, my chest rising and falling.  My nipples are hard, so sensitive, that the normally soft cotton fabric of the t-shirt I'm wearing feels more like sandpaper.  I close my eyes, picturing Hendrix's hand in my hair, feeling the rough way he grabbed me, the twinge of pain that rocketed through me as he yanked the hair by the roots.  When I slide my hand over my breast now, heat rushes between my legs, and I can't imagine anyone's hand there except Hendrix's.
    Hendrix should be the last person on earth I fantasize about.  I should be picturing anyone else -- one of the movie stars I know, any one of the myriad gorgeous male country singers I'm friends with, or hell, someone I've dated.  Even that jerk-ass ex-boyfriend of mine.
    Anyone but Hendrix.
    But Hendrix is the only one I can picture, the only one I want to imagine.
    I run my hand up the inside of my leg and between my thighs, finding my clit.  My fingers roll easily over it, aided by my wetness, and I exhale heavily as arousal courses through my body.  I imagine Hendrix's hands on me, roaming my body, Hendrix's hands in my hair.
    Hendrix's lips on mine, his tongue finding my tongue.
    His face buried between my legs.
    When I slide my finger lower, finding my entrance, I'm already close to the brink.  And when I press my palm firmly against my clit, my fingers lodged deeply inside me, I crash over the edge almost immediately.
    It's Hendrix's face I see.
    And Hendrix's name that escapes my lips, less of a word and more of a moan, when I come.
    A minute later, the throbbing between my legs still hasn't subsided, and I open my eyes.  The realization of what just happened overwhelms me.
    I just came thinking about Hendrix.
    It's not like that's the first time it happened.  But it's the first time it's happened in years.  It's definitely the first time it's happened with him right in the other room.
    "Addy."  Hendrix speaks my name, his voice low and gravelly, from the other side of the door.
    Shit.  
    He wasn't even in the other room.  He was on the other side of the door.  Embarrassment washes over me like a tidal wave, and I swallow hard.  Surely he didn't hear what I just did.  Surely he didn't hear me moan his name.
    "Open the fucking door," he demands.
    I don't move.  "No," I say, my voice softer than I intend.
    "I know , Addy," he says.  He doesn't push open the door, the way he so easily could.  Do I want him to?   A few weeks ago, I would have vehemently answered no to that question.  After what he did to me, what he said...he could rot in hell as far as I was concerned.  When he left, I never wanted to see him again.  Except that I never could get him out of my mind.
    "There's nothing to know," I say.
    "I'm not deaf, Addy-girl."  His voice is lower now, more gruff.  Insistent.
    Heat rushes to my face.  He didn't just hear me.  He couldn't.   "I don't know what you're talking about."
    "My name -- Hendrix," he says, his voice softer.  "You said my name."
    "I -- " I start.  Crap.   He was listening.  Why would he stand at my door and listen to me?
    "Open the door," he says.
    I want to let him in.
    I can't.
    "No," I say.
    "Goddamn it, Addy," he says.  He pauses and for a minute, I think he's gone.  I want him to be gone.  I don't want him to be gone.  Shit, I don't know what the hell I want.
    "Hendrix?" I ask.
    "Addy-girl."  The way he speaks the word, formerly a platonic term of endearment, sounds a lot less fucking platonic now. 
    "You didn't hear what you thought you heard," I lie.  How am I going to face him now?
    "What did I think I heard?"
    "Me..."
    "You what, Addy?"
    I'm silent.  I can't say it.
    His palm hits the door, and it makes me jump.  "You coming , Addy.  Say it."
    "No."
    "You were thinking about me."
    I don't answer. If I answer, this goes somewhere else, somewhere I didn't see things going between us.