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“There’s too much water under our bridge. It’s dirty, toxic water, Princess.” The memory of his deep voice rumbling those words is a whip lash to my already tender, so very foolish, emotions.
Tav enters the kitchen as I toss the homemade chicken fried rice. When he raises a brow, I mutter, “Comfort food.”
Another body appears in my side vision, and I flinch at the sight of Ian. I’m really not prepared to entertain tonight. Not while I’m feeling all these feelings I’m struggling to compartmentalize. Tav has been touchy when it’s just us, but as soon as we’re in the company of others, he ups his touching game tenfold.
I’m not sure I can deal with that tonight. At least not without exploding.
The thought of the little vibrator that sits in my nightstand, unused, enters my mind with the force of a baseball bat. Hesitant as I’ve been to try my new toy, I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet. It’s that, or I suffer in a state of over-the-top arousal that is surely going to break me.
I squeeze my thighs together as I turn off the stove, turning to face the guys. When my eyes meet Ian’s, he raises a brow. “In the need for comfort food?” His eyes are firm on mine. “Tav mess up?”
Worry flutters through my chest as I hurry to shake my head. “Tav’s great. I’m just feeling off today.”
I can’t miss the way Tav’s dark eyes are pinned to me. His gaze is so intense, I feel as though he’s stripping me bare. No, not just bare. Raw.
His gaze is so intense, he’s flaying flesh from bone to the secrets I’ve buried into the marrow of me, certain no one would ever be able to look deep enough to expose the truth of my pain.
I clear my throat. “So, I’ve made a crap ton if you want to grab a bowl and dish up?”
Ian is the first to move. “I’d love a bowl. That smells delicious.”
I watch Ian as he dishes up, all too aware of how Tav watches me. Making a point of ignoring Tav and his strip-me-raw gaze, I fill my bowl and slide onto a seat at the island. Still ignoring Tav, I ask Ian, “Candace working tonight?”
He nods, shoveling a big bite into his mouth. He makes a noise of approval, already scooping another big bite. “She loves nursing.”
I frown at his words. “She loves you, too.”
His eyes lift from his bowl to mine. A lopsided grin that’s too kind curls his lips. “I know.”
I swallow hard and take a bite of my own food as Tav sets his bowl on the island next to me. His big hand comes around my waist and I fight not to tense as he leans in and presses his lips to my temple, murmuring low, “Missed you today.”
Sparks. They fly through me, threatening to incinerate me from the inside out. I clear my throat. “I—um—I missed you, too.”
A grin curls Tav’s lips as a low chuckle sounds from Ian. My face flames red hot.
Forcing my attention to my bowl, I finish in silence as the guys talk around me. I’m relieved when I finish, not comforted by my comfort food at all, because the entire time I’d eaten it, Tav’s massive hand had rested on my thigh, far too high to be safe. Between my legs, I felt hot and needy with every intense throb I couldn’t seem to stop, even as I tried to think terrible, gross thoughts. Like what worms might taste like.
Shoot, this sucks.
Sliding from my stool and Tav’s touch, I move to the sink. Rinsing my bowl, I place it in the dishwasher before I move to the pan. “Anyone want seconds?”
Two heads shake, so I start piling the leftovers into a dish for the fridge. With my task complete, the guys having finished their bowls, Tav reaches into the fridge for two beers. He tosses one to Ian before he pulls a bottle of champagne from where it sits in the fridge, pouring it into a glass.
He hands me the glass, and commands, “Join us.”
Nodding, I follow the guys onto the patio, taking my place next to Tav. Clearly, I haven’t sat close enough, because he closes the space between us, so I’m plastered to his side, his hand again on my thigh.
The feel of his hot palm against my skin has a shiver rattling through my body and goosebumps rising on my skin.
Tav frowns. “You cold?”
I’m way too aware of the way Ian studies us as I nod. “The sun is setting. It’s taking the warmth with it.”
Placing his beer on the table, Tav rises. He strolls back through the patio door only to reappear with a blanket in his hand. He stands in front of the couch. “Stand.” I do as he says, and he sits, before big hands find my hips and he pulls me down beside him, lifting my legs over his lap, Tav covers me with the blanket. He leans forward to grab his beer from the coffee table, resting it on my knees as his other hand slides under the covers, finding the bare flesh of my thigh, just above my knee, where my little blue dress with the pretty white flowers has risen inappropriately to bunch at my hips.
Thank heaven for the blanket.
The guys start to talk about a new song they wrote and plan to record. I hear a bit about how it’s going to be a hit, but I admit, I’m not really listening. I’m not listening because the bubbles of my champagne are bubbling in my already sensitive belly. And Tav’s thumb is moving slowly in a deliciously wonderful, achingly tempting, back and forth motion on my mid inner thigh.
