Chapter 1
“You’re taking forever, Becca. The dinner starts in three hours!”
Mom’s cheerful voice drifted through the door, full of laughter as she chatted with other relatives.The sound only made my nerves twist tighter.
The closet inmy bedroom was painfully small. Sam filled every inch of it. At six-foot-three and packed with dense, battle-hardened muscle, he seemed to steal all the air. The navy bespoke suit clung to his broad shoulders and powerful chest like it had been painted on. He looked dangerously handsome — calm, controlled, and far too aware of the effect he had on me.
And as a tailor, I had to measure my stepbrother to make him a new suit.
Heat crawled up my neck as I stared at the measuring tape in my hands. I tried to focus, but his presence wrapped around me: the dark, expensive cologne, the faint masculine scent beneath it, the quiet power radiating from his body. My stomach fluttered with a mix of anxiety and something far more shameful.
I stepped closer, heart hammering. “Hold still,” I whispered, voice thinner than I wanted.
My fingers tightened around the measuring tape so hard they hurt. I tried focusing on the numbers instead of the growing ache between my legs, but it was impossible with him standing over me like that. The cramped room amplified everything—his warmth, his scent, the sound of his breathing.
To measure his shoulders properly, I had to lean into him. My breasts brushed against the solid wall of his chest through my thin blouse. The contact sent a sharp spark straight down my spine. My nipples tightened instantly. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore how good the brief pressure felt.
Sam looked down at me, dark eyes heavy with quiet amusement and something much hotter. The corner of his mouth curved slightly, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The weight of his gaze alone made my cheeks burn.
I quickly noted the measurement, but every movement forced me closer. My hip grazed his thigh. My arm slid across his chest. The room grew hotter with every breath.
His black suit jacket hung off to the side, leaving him in nothing but a black shirt so thin it was practically translucent.
The lines of dense muscle beneath the fabric rippled slightly with every breath, and the quiet power radiating from his body made the room shrink even further.
“Hold still,” I whispered, keeping my eyes downcast to avoid the depth of his dark, bottomless gaze.
“I’m not moving,” he let out a low, amused huff. “You’re the one who keeps shaking.”
I forced myself to step closer, unrolling the tape to measure his chest, a movement that compelled me to cross into his personal space.
My nose almost brushed against his chest, which radiated a scent of dark, expensive cologne mixed with the crisp coolness of the rain outside and his own burning body heat.
As the tape wrapped around his back, my arms were inevitably forced to encircle his waist.
In that moment, it felt as though I was willingly throwing myself into his embrace.
“Thirty-nine inches,” I blurted out the number quickly, trying to retract my hands, but the backs of my knuckles accidentally slid right over his ribs.
Sam inhaled sharply, his chest muscles instantly tightening.
“Becca,” he murmured, his tone carrying a thrilling, dangerous warning. “Look up at me.”
“I have to work.”
“Look at me,” he repeated, and this time, it was an unyielding command.
My gaze snapped up instinctively, and I tumbled right into his dark eyes—swirling with quiet amusement and a trace of dangerous hunger.
He was too close, so close I could see the heavy emotions churning in the depths of his stare.
“You’re still exactly like you were that summer you turned sixteen,” he murmured, leaning down slightly as his warm breath fanned across the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.
“Blushing the second you’re touched.”
I dropped to my knees to measure his waist, and immediately regretted it.
My face was now level with his belt.
The tailored trousers hugged his thick thighs and the unmistakable bulge at the front.
My mouth went dry.
He was hard.
Heat exploded through my body so fast I felt dizzy.
I froze, pulse roaring in my ears.
“Becca? Everything okay in there?” Mom called.
“Fine!” I squeaked, far too high-pitched.
Sam’s low, quiet chuckle vibrated above me. When I dared to glance up, his expression had shifted—still composed, but his eyes had darkened with unmistakable hunger.
That look made my thighs press together instinctively.
I finished the waist measurement with trembling fingers and stood up, but there was almost no space left.
My body pressed flush against his.
I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore how good the brief pressure felt.
Sam’s large hand settled lightly on my hip, steadying me.
His thumb brushed once, slowly, along the curve of my waist before he pulled it away.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “You keep rubbing against me like that… and this suit won’t be the only thing getting hard.”
I stepped back on unsteady knees, scribbling the final numbers onto the notepad with shaking hands.
“Well, I’m coming in then, just to see if Sam’s shoulders fit properly.”
Outside, the sharp click of Mom’s heels took a sudden step forward, followed immediately by the crisp swish of the velvet curtain being yanked open.
Yet, a mere second before the curtain could be pulled wide open, Sam took a swift step forward.
Using his massive, powerful frame, he completely shielded me, pinning me securely between his body and the wall.
With his back entirely blocking the entrance from Mom’s view.
But he purposely let his fingertips brush against my trembling palm, tracing a slow, taunting line.
“What’s the rush?”
Sam turned his head, offering the mother about to peer in a perfectly polite, unassailable gentleman’s smile.
His voice was utterly steady, devoid of a single flaw.
“Becca is always thorough with her work. Besides… she just got to the most critical measurement.”