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“Right.” Sweeping her hair over her shoulders with the backs of my clean hands, I ran my thumbs up and down her neck.
A little twinkle formed in her eye. “You know, Mama K even said she’d come to book club with me.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Oh boy.”
“What?”
“You wanna talk about sex with my mama in the room?”
She tsked. “No, but I’d love to talk to her about books.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sex books.”
She swatted my arm. “They’re romance books, Frank.”
Using the voice she liked, I said real low, “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
“Kids!” Mama yelled from the kitchen. “Hurry up. What’s takin’ so long?”
Samantha chuckled. “She sounds just like you.”
“She knows I ain’t a kid, right?”
“You’re her kid, no matter how old you are.”
“S’pose you’re right.” Wrapping her legs around my waist, I slid my hands under her ass and lifted her, and she locked her feet together behind me. “Time for supper.”
“You can’t carry me to the dinner table. How would it look?”
“It’ll look like I love you, which I do.” I kissed her nose. “And it’ll look like I don’t wanna stop touchin’ you, which I don’t.”
“I’m going to kiss you now, and then you’re going to put me down. You can hold my hand, but we’re not cave people.”
“Oh no?” I teased. “So when I took you from behind this mornin’, ruttin’ into you like a Neanderthal, that didn’t do anything for you?”
She blushed, lowering her head and looking up at me through her black lashes. “I didn’t say that.”
“Mm,” I grumbled low. “Thought as much. Wanna try that again tonight?”
“Yes, please.” Her blush was crawling down her neck now, kissing the tops of her breasts under her V-neck sweater.
“Good girl,” I whispered, lifting my hand into her hair, twisting it in my fist, and pulling a little, and her head fell back so I could kiss her. And, oh, I did. Who needed food? Her mouth was the only sustenance I required. Her tongue was soft and pliant. She let me kiss her and take her any way I wanted.
“Kids! You comin’?”
She winced. “We better go.”
“I ain’t through with you yet.”
“Your mom’s been talking about feeding you all day. If you don’t get out there, she’ll be mad at me.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” I said, stepping back and lowering her to her feet.
“I thought you were sick of chili,” she said, fitting herself under my arm and draping it over her shoulder. She twined her fingers through mine.
“No.” I opened the door, pulling her through it. “I said I was sick of Abey eatin’ chili. Besides, it ain’t really chili if it’s got beans in it. You’ll see what I mean when you take your first bite. Mama K makes the best damn chili in the whole state of Texas, and she serves it over baked potatoes. It’s one of the only things I remember lovin’ about livin’ there.”
“Is it weird that I’m kind of excited to see you eat unhealthy food?” she whispered.
