He stood on the balcony, hands shoved into his pockets to hide the tent in his pants. His sister's best friend had come over to his apartment with her to visit, and knowing she was in a room down the hall-with very few clothes on-wasn't helping him at all.
He groaned into the night, pulled his hands out his pockets and clutched the railing for control when he felt more blood rush down south. She was ripping his self control to shreds, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Even the woman he was being forced to marry didn't elicit such a reaction, so why was he pinning after a child?
Already scowling, he spun around sharply when he heard the soft patter of feet and glared in the direction of the balcony doors. "Who's there?"
